Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 24

From a distance, concealed among the gnarled trees of the forest, Madame Katia sat in her sleigh, her fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. The sleigh was drawn by a magnificent six-headed serpent, each head hissing and flicking its forked tongue, their scales shimmering in the pale winter light. The air around her crackled with dark energy, mirroring her own malevolent spirit.

She had been observing the scene unfold before her for some time, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in the three figures: Charlotte, Alastor, and Vagatha. The laughter that floated through the air was like a bitter poison to her ears, igniting a surge of irritation at the sight of their camaraderie. Yet it was Alastor and Vagatha who truly captured her attention.

The other night, when she had seen Charlotte skating on the lake, radiating happiness, she felt an irresistible urge to shatter that joy. In a moment of reckless ambition, she had attempted to kill the girl, but the young man had sensed her presence just in time and thwarted her plans. How had he detected her? As she scrutinized him further, a nagging familiarity tugged at her memory.

Then, earlier that afternoon, she had spotted him again, this time accompanied by another woman who also seemed strikingly familiar.

"Who are they?" she muttered to herself, her voice low and laced with suspicion. "I know I've seen those two somewhere before. But where?"

Madame Katia leaned forward, her gaze piercing as she examined Alastor's playful demeanor and Vagatha's vibrant energy. They were no ordinary humans; there was a spark about them that hinted at something deeper. But what could it be?

As the serpent followed its mistress's gaze to the three youthful figures, all six heads began to hiss with ravenous hunger.

"Yes, yes, Toomas, I know," she said, stroking each head affectionately. "They do look delicious, don't they? A fine supper indeed. But patience is key; I don't want to feed them to you just yet. Not until I uncover why those two resonate so strongly with me. But fret not, you shall have not one or two, but a three-course meal—an appetizer, a main dish, and a dessert."

The serpent, Toomas, hissed in pleasure, nuzzling its heads against her palm in gratitude.

"Yes, you are good to me, aren't you?" she smiled. "It makes me wonder why on earth Rosamund and Carmilla would ever want children; pets are far more useful and obedient."

With that, she pulled on the reins, and her serpent slithered away, taking her home—unaware that she, too, was being watched by the two women in question.

"We prefer children because, unlike you, we want to love someone and be loved in return, not raise a slave," Mother Rosamund muttered.

As soon as the sisters discovered Vagatha's note the morning after her departure, their first instinct—after ensuring Vagatha was safe, of course—was to check on Madame Katia and monitor her every move. They had to do so from a distance; if she sensed their presence and realized they were watching her, she would start asking questions and snooping around.

"I tell you, sister, that woman knows nothing of love or any genuine feeling," Mother Rosamund continued. "I bet she doesn't even realize that pets aren't meant to be slaves; they're supposed to be companions and helpers. Even the farmers who raise dogs to tend their flocks treat their animals like family members."

But Mother Carmilla couldn't respond with her usual banter or words of wisdom. She was still overwhelmed by the terrifying realization that Vagatha had left to become a human woman, now vulnerable to Madame Katia. It was a fear she hadn't felt since the heartbreaking days when her daughters, Odette and Clara, were suffering from scarlet fever.