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I awoke each morning with dread in my heart. Behind the safety of the bed curtains, I clung to Ranulf. He remained vigilant although the tension between von Helfin and his ward grew thicker with each passing day. However, he could not remain with me constantly. Often, in the night, he ventured into the castle and returned with food he stole from Mrs. Balan’s kitchen.
Although I ate hungrily, Ranulf did not touch a morsel. When I urged a plate of goulash on him, he roughly pushed it away.
Please eat something, Ranulf,” I coaxed, replacing the plate before him. “You grow thin, and I can see your veins through your transparent skin.”
Dolefully, he shook his head, his eyes full of sorrow. I urged the meal on him again, but he continued to refuse.
“You don’t eat human food,” I finally remarked. “You need blood. Why don’t you take mine? We’re together day after day yet you never try to nourish yourself on my blood.”
“It is difficult for me to refrain, Norah,” my companion responded. He strolled toward the window slip and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Mournfully, he gazed out into the far distance. “Instinctively, I want to—I need to. It’s difficult to restrain my urges, but I love you.” He turned to me pleadingly. “I cannot hurt you.”
“I appreciate your efforts, my love,” I responded, relief flooding me. “You are starving.”
“Uncle and the children are starving too,” Ranulf stated, worry filling his voice. “They could burst in at any moment. They could overpower both of us and… But they don’t. I cannot understand it. Why is Uncle playing this cat and mouse game with you?”
The days passed one after the other without a movement from the Baron. I remained in the turret, never setting foot beyond the oaken door at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Von Helfin and the children stayed in the cellar and Ranulf patrolled the ground floors. Finally, my companion erupted into my bed chamber with an announcement.
“Uncle has postponed his hunting trip for too long,” Ranulf remarked, grasping my hands firmly. “We depart at midnight.”
“We…?” My heart sank.
“I must,” my companion stated, lowering his hooded eyes. “I cannot delay any longer. I promise I will return as swiftly as possible.”
“I…I understand,” I answered, a lump growing in my throat. I hated to lose him even for a brief time.
Ranulf said his goodbyes shortly before midnight and the von Helfin menagerie departed. Although I missed my lover, I breathed a little easier following the Baron departure. Nevertheless the terror remained. Aimlessly, I wandered about the castle. Reveca Balan watched me, pitifully. She cooked lavish meals, hoping to draw me out of my lassitude. I thanked her but ate little.
One day, I wandered in the cellar. I stood in the empty schoolroom and my depression deepened. Longing for my mother, I whispered her name. It sounded empty in the hollow space. I returned to the corridor and headed for the stairs.
The Baron’s departure provided me with a means of release. However, I could not depart without my mother. Somewhere within the dank castle she reposed—dead or alive. I had to locate her. Then, I could consider my escape plan.
“You miss your Mama,” Helga meekly stated. She joined me on the garden bench one dismal afternoon.
Mournfully, I nodded. Although I had previously avoided the young maid, I turned to her for companionship. It helped to have someone close to my age nearby. Fighting back my tears, I spoke to her of my fears.
“My granny will know where she is,” Helga offered, eagerly rising to her feet.
“If she knows, why hasn’t she told me?” I questioned, imperiously. Surely, Reveca Balan understood my longing for my mother.
“Not that granny. My other granny,” my young companion exclaimed. Grasping my hand, Helga dragged me toward an ivy covered wall. Thrusting aside the growth, she revealed a solid oak door. “My gypsy granny.”
Beyond the egress, we stepped into the dark, gloomy forest beyond the castle precincts. Hastily, I trotted behind Helga. The little chambermaid navigated the hidden paths with familiarity. We traveled a great distance before emerging into a wide clearing.
Six gypsy caravans stood in a rough circle around a fire. A black cauldron hung over it. The scent of lamb stew filled the area. I paused to peer inside, but Helga urged me forward. An old woman sat on the stoop of a faded red painted wagon. Her thin mouth grinned toothlessly when she espied my friend.
“Granny!” Helga exclaimed, rushing into the old woman’s arms. Gently, she kissed the wrinkled cheek.
“Welcome, Granddaughter,” the ancient gypsy woman greeted. “What brings you all the way out here?”
“Tell Norah’s fortune, Granny, quickly,” Helga shouted, dancing in anticipation. “Tell her where she can find her Mama.”
I held back in dismay when the old gypsy cackled merrily. I did not believe in fortunetelling. Prentiss called it a scam—declared the ancient wanderers heathens. However, my desperation concerning my mother’s whereabouts drove me forward. Helga and I entered the caravan.
The Granny Woman lit a candle and plunked down in front of a crystal ball. Crooning softly beneath her breath, she waved her gnarled hands over it. A mist rose inside the crystal, and she leaned closer.
“The bell in the well in the dell,” the gypsy sang, her cracked voice becoming melodious. Again and again, she repeated the incantation.
“Nonsense!” I exclaimed, breaking the eerie stillness surrounding us. “Utter nonsense.”
Spinning, I raced from the caravan and plunged into the forbidding forest. The gypsy’s cackling followed me, echoing amongst the black trees. Helga grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop.
“Cross the gypsy’s palm with silver, Norah,” she cried, terror escalating her voice. “Cross it with silver otherwise you are cursed.”
“Cursed? Nonsense!” I shouted, charging through the dense forest. Dried leaves crunched beneath my heels. Helga did not follow me.
Finally, I emerged. The forbidding castle loomed above me. I sucked in my breath and strode toward the oaken door in the wall. Before I entered, Helga appeared behind me.
“I did it, Norah. I gave Granny the silver,” she announced, pushing the door opened. “You are safe.”
“I still don’t know where Mama is,” I sobbed, spinning upon my companion. “The bell in the well in the dell. What does it mean?”
Helga shrugged and rushed toward the kitchen. I watched her retreating back disdainfully.
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