Sypha entered the church and went for the church pews in the middle: close enough to watch what happened, but far enough from the front ones to avoid unwanted attention. She took off her hood to get in. Thank goodness I'm not poorly dressed. She looked down to her shirt, borrowed from Alucard, She also wore a sand-colored scarf, that she pulled up a bit to cover some of her face. A family sat by her side, one with five children of various ages, pretty silent ones in comparison to what she expected. She looked around. Nothing's out of the ordinary so far… Except for a Speaker in a church. She avoided laughing.
The mass began with the rite of songs she recalled from books. The choir was on tune and well rehearsed, and, some songs later, the austere priest started the sermon. He spoke of family, protection, and care, with a voice that went up and down as the Mother's chant, and a fixed, piercing stare. Sypha felt like snoozing on the pew when she heard one of the boys from the family asking his mother some sort of question, followed by a request of silence. She woke up against her will to hear the priest.
"Because, in times like these, one needs to be wary. The Devil works, and, many times, it works quietly. Therefore, suspect what the world offers you, and keep your faith in God."
Sypha squinted her eyes to see him better. The priest did not gesticulate much, and also walked very little on the altar. The sermon went on with the same tone of an alert, up to the final readings and the communion wafer. She had the chance to face him closely and see his serious semblant, that already had some wrinkles, but she did not hear more than a "may God bless you" and did not taste more than flour in her mouth.
A hint of disappointment hovered over her when she left the church. Well, at least, there were beautiful glass panels. Under the Tree, that did not resemble the riot from the previous hours, she saw Alucard sitting on a root, looking at the passing time. He noticed her approach.
"How was it?" He asked.
"It was fine… But weird," she scratched her head.
"Wait, how?" He laughed.
"Let's go back and I'll explain," she noticed the notebook in his hands and could not hold herself back, "What are you writing?"
"Nothing, right now. Let's go," he stood up.
The afternoon came to an end and a cold wind hit them outside the tavern. Inside it, the lit fireplace attracted the customers, and it was pretty crowded. She saw Trevor on one of the tables in a corner, with his foot on Rosa's lap. The rest of the troupe was also there, even the younger ones, occupying the rest of the tables around. The singer looked at Trevor with an attentive curiosity, that had none of the flirtation with which she courted Sypha earlier.
"And we also had a sort of beacon that…" Trevor stopped speaking and turned to see the newcomers, "Hey. Pull some more chairs."
They bothered customers from other tables to find empty chairs and stools, and Trevor made sure to sit Sypha by his side, holding her under an arm and kissing her with no shame at all. When she could breathe again, Sypha noticed a small blonde dot by Rosa's side, with a mug in front of it. Huh? Katrina was hidden from most of the passers-by, but she was a visible fish out of water in the rowdy tavern. However, she carried a laughter of someone who was having lots of fun.
"You should be home," Alucard spoke to her, with a light reprehension tone.
"I won't take too long," she dragged her mug on the table, "Look, they gave me wine with tea."
She did not raise her mug to drink, with her trembling hands, and had to drink from the edge of the cup.
"It might be sweet, but be careful, or you're going to have a bad time," Sypha warned her, half joking.
"I think everyone already said the same," Katrina shrugged.
The things we do when we're sixteen. Sypha ordered a cider to a waitress and listened to Trevor's excited stories about his family and the Hold. Rosa buried him in questions, just as enthusiastic and maybe just as drunk as he was. Sypha left aside scolding Trevor for it; he usually spoke nothing of the past, and it was even rarer that he did it with a smile. I don't want to ruin the moment. Sypha corresponded his gallantry and pretended not to notice his occasional indiscreet pinches. The tavern table ended up becoming a long lecture on the Belmont family tree, among other details and hitches on the clan's history.
Before it was dark, the members of the troupe got up and organized for a departure. Sypha noticed the poorly hidden held hands of Rosa and Katrina, and the evident smile, looks, and awkwardness of both. Rosa bowed to say goodbye.
"We're stopped by the exit to Targoviste, and, in the morning, we'll be already far from here," she poked Katrina on the cheek, "And this fair lady will be home, in her warm bed at eight sharp, right?"
"Yes, ma'am," the girl laughed.
They're way too calm about it… They all left on foot, waving back, and the three stayed in the tavern, going back to their seats.
"So, the church," Sypha let out a tired sigh, "It looked like a mass, just like any other. But the priest… Something was off with him."
"Something?" Trevor frowned.
"He did not move much, and he spoke like… Like he was reciting a poem, or if he was singing. And he was serious, as well as any other priest, I guess."
Sypha remembered when she approached him in the moment of the communion wafer. His face…
"Wait," she felt a shiver down her spine, "He didn't blink."
All three went quiet.
"What are the chances that he's cursed?" Trevor dared to say.
"What are the chances that he's dead?" Alucard replied.
"Let's see what's in that church," Trevor took his leg off of the chair with a pain grunt and bended it under the table, "Actually, you two go there. I still need a ton of that arnica thing. Now, I'll accept that you carry me upstairs."
"Who, me?" Alucard pointed at himself with a smug, "I hope you're kidding."
"I was never this serious. Do it, and I won't kick you. I promise, this time."
"Really?" Alucard got up.
"I give you my word."
Alucard laughed and crouched to pick him up. "Be careful."
"Tell me about it," Trevor replied.
He carefully raised Trevor's weight, who complained anyway. Sypha and the whole tavern stopped anything they did to look at it.
Alucard stepped forward. "Get a hold of yourself."
"Get a hold of me, too," Trevor wrapped an arm around the other's neck.
Sypha sprinted on the stairs with the keys and opened the door as they arrived. Alucard let him fall on the bed like a potato sack.
"Ouch," Trevor moaned, "Thanks." He stretched. "Sypha, can you deal with the bandages?"
She lit up a candle and approached to remove them from his knee, cleaning the arnica remains and making a new plaster, the way the female tavern owner taught her to do. Trevor sighed in relief and spread himself onto bed after she finished. He also asked someone to bring him hot water for the willow tea, and Sypha went to find a waiter downstairs. The tavern keeper himself brought her the mug, cordially asking how they were. It's very mindful of you, but we'll have to lie a little bit. As he closed the door, Sypha kissed Trevor on the cheek and told him to rest.
"It's what I want to do since I woke up," he replied, conformed.
Alucard, this time, remembered to pick up his sword. And I really think we're needing it. They looked outside the window a last time to certify of the lack of traffic and descended onto the ground.
Trevor wrapped himself up with the blankets. It was colder in the bedroom than around the fireplace, in the full saloon. He drank the tea in sips, looking at nothing specific. Still, his thirst got to him, one that he could get rid of easily paying the price of pain in his knee, climbing down the stairs. It was quiet enough upstairs; a fertile ground for thinking. And I don't want to think. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, leaving the mug on the floor and lying down on the bed, turning from position to position until he gave up seeking for comfort. Little by little, his leg hurt less, but his rush to use the tavern for what it was made was already gone. I don't want to think. But it was hard to stop himself.
The first thing that occurred to him was a voice, then a face; his father's, a safe haven, a rock, but with a heart. Then, his mother, whose mood changed like the weather. His siblings, the eldest and the middle, each of the three with a toy replica of the weapons they would use someday. All of them arrested, taken wherever they were, and he never saw them again. I couldn't even bury them. The fire, that ate everything on the surface of the majestic Hold with it, turned to ashes every concrete memory of his, except for what was underneath. The days he spent left on the ruins, digging up a burnt animal to eat, without knowing where would he go next. Sohodol would not accept him, not even as a beggar, then he wandered and wandered until he did not know where it was anymore. He stored the things he could gather from the wreckage in a roof gap, like a treasure the world could not rob, and he slept dreaming of the day he would wake up on his bed after some strange nightmare. When he was aware there was no more traces of the presence of the other two in the bedroom, he had been crying for long.
"You're sad all the time. You don't even notice it now." It was easier when I didn't. And it was also easier when Sypha was there to listen, or to hold him until the sensation was gone. She knew a lot already, and one day, she would know everything; it was not like he would save her from the truth. But I don't want her to understand me. And would someone? He grudgingly remembered Alucard. He does, I guess. He cleaned his face with his hands, what was of little use; he still sobbed. He grabbed the pillow until his fingers became bloodless, and only let go of it when he did not feel them anymore. He breathed through his mouth, his chest swirling in pain, until his energy was gone, and, in the end, he slept.
Sypha turned around the church to illuminate the way towards the priest's housing and the graveyard, and Alucard followed her. The residence was attached to the back of the building, and it had elongated, narrow windows, too shut and too stuck. The main entrance is also locked. There's only… Alucard looked up to the bell tower, then to Sypha.
"Do we climb there?" He asked.
"Why not?" She shrugged.
They both levitated up to the top, near the big bell. The trapdoor opened with a small effort and some noise, in the absolute silence there was before. They climbed down the stairs side by side. Alucard saw Sypha misstep on a broken corner covered in sludge and almost roll down the spiral; he was fast enough to hold her by her waist.
"Be careful," he whispered, letting her go without further ado.
She thanked in the same tone and grew the flame that guided them. On the ground floor, the door was unlocked, and it opened to a small, dusty hall, which exit might have been to the back of the altar. Alucard could see his own footprints on the floor.
"This place is in need of some cleaning," he scratched his nose. "And this smell…"
"Fantastic, huh?" Sypha sneezed.
"No, I'm not talking about the dust."
He headed to one of the three doors, lightly stepping on the wooden floor, that would creak a lot, and signed for her to approach in the same silence. He opened it and they walked up to the found bed. There was a body lying on the white sheets, dressed in a cassock, with its head on a big, dark spot. The bedroom started to smell like putrefaction.
"He was dead," Sypha stuttered. "He was already dead in the lecture."
She stepped back and dimmed the flame. The corpse left the bed and jumped onto them with its stretched arms.
Alucard was fast enough to draw his sword and parry the blow. The body corresponded by grabbing the blade with both hands and making an unexpected force to its front. Alucard felt like being pushed, and he brandished the sword with a careful spinning slash. It avoided Sypha and threw the corpse on the bedroom door, shattering the wood and giving a chance of an escape to the altar to the enormous shadow controlling it. The body remained at the doorstep, thrown as a ragdoll, moveless.
"I'm growing fed up of this," Alucard complained.
He sprinted to the altar and Sypha followed him.
In the hall of the church, she projected a broad seal on the main entrance with a hand. The light was enough for him to see the shadow once. Now, I've got plenty of space. He charged onto it and took a blowing kick he had to block with an arm. Another slash, and the shadow dodged it kneeling and disappearing into the darkness. Sypha increased the radius of the flame, but he could not see it yet. Then, she set fire to the great cross in the altar. The shadow laughed like a maniac.
Alucard found the creature on the ceiling and charged against it another time. They jumped from a corner to another with a blow after another, avoiding stepping on the glass panels, while the shadow ran from him in a high speed.
"Sypha, freeze!" Alucard shouted.
With the remaining hand, she began to chill the air around them. Alucard hit a slash and its strength threw the shadow to the floor, right on the church pews. He propelled himself from the ceiling to the floor with his sword pointing at the apparition's head. When he pierced it, the shadow did not cease laughing a wall-shaking laughter until it disappeared.
The fire on the cross started to spread, and Sypha attracted some icicles that formed on the roof to throw them onto the flames. It did not extinguish them, and she manipulated the holy water near the door to put them out at once.
"Do you think we drew any attention?" Alucard asked, panting.
"It doesn't matter," she shrugged. "They're finding it out tomorrow anyway."
They left through the same passage and floated from the bell tower to the window of the tavern. As they closed it, Trevor woke up in a scare, looking around. When he saw them, he let himself fall onto bed again.
"How was it?" Trevor asked.
"The priest was dead," Alucard sighed. "He wasn't too rotten."
"Damn. What else?"
"I also set fire to the whole church," Sypha put out the flame and laid down to rest. "What about you?"
"I did as I told you, and I intend to keep going," Trevor stretched and turned to his side.
"Let us all rest, then," Alucard sat on the straw pile.
Trevor felt his head hurt and opened his eyes against his will, without a clue of what time it was. Is that sun outside? He smiled alone, and heard rough knocks on the door, getting up to unlock them. A mean-looking guard and two of them behind him examined him, and he felt a shiver down his spine. From the corner of the eye, he saw Sypha and Alucard waking up with the commotion.
"Are you the Belmont?" The guard inquired.
"It's me. Any problem, sir?"
"Come with us. The three of you."
Trevor stepped forward and the guard barred him with an arm. "Leave the weapons behind, pal."
Trevor sighed, removing the Morning Star from his belt and dropping it onto the bed. The other two stood up and Trevor did a head motion so that they followed him. They climbed down the stairs, observed by customers and workers alike, and went outside, surrounded by the guards.
"Hands in the air," the guard raised his voice, "You're all under arrest."
I can't fucking believe it. The other two guards tied their wrists with a strong knot of thick ropes. They walked up to a building that Trevor believed to be the city hall, turning around it. In the back, one of the guards opened a trapdoor and told them to go dowh the stairs, in an almost complete darkness.
The corridor was broader than the one in the small prison of Sohodol, but not any less suffocating. Each guard directed one of the three to an empty cell, leaving them with tied hands and under the watch of another guard, sitting on a stump not far from them. The cells were locked, and each one of them fell seated on the floor with their own distaste. Sypha tried to say something that no one had time to understand; the guard demanded silence.
The hours went by all the same, counting the bricks on the wall, until Trevor heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and identified the first guard under the little light of the prison.
"On your feet, Belmont," he unlocked the cell. Trevor obliged and stepped out of it, "Walking ahead of me. Go."
"Am I a free man already?"
"No."
Following on the opposite direction from where they had come, he climbed another set of stairs and the guard opened another trapdoor, which took them to the inside of the city hall. In a more amicable room, full of papers that the guard probably was not able to read, he was also told to sit down. The other two guards were by the door, on standby.
"If you interrogated everyone like this, instead of using red-hot spikes, maybe you could get better confessions," Trevor smirked.
The guard did not laugh. "Where were you three days ago?"
"On the road to Ploiesti, sir."
"You, as well as the other two?"
"Precisely."
"How about last night?" The guard asked.
"I slept like an angel, on the same bed you found me earlier."
The guard stared at him with reprehension. "What did you do the last few days, then?"
"Oh, a bunch of things. What should I tell first?" Trevor told him of the shadow hunting, since the episode with the Mother up to Leo, leaving aside the endeavor of the night before.
"We know of such shadows. The people saw them," the guard sighed, "By any chance, did any of your friends down there do some sort of work in the church?"
"It's pretty possible, sir."
"We think so. The priest's dead."
What a surprise. "And what do I have to do with the priest if I was in the tavern at night, under the sheets, sir?"
"The priest was seen walking and speaking by half of Ploiesti yesterday."
"And I believe he was dead all along, as my friends told me, and as you may have noticed already. It's the kind of thing the supernatural does, you know? The people would know more about it if my family wasn't just a tale to tell."
The guard looked at him as if he was a mouse on the corner of the room. "The young girl you mentioned. What's her name, Katrina?"
"Yes, sir. She was one of the victims of the curse."
"Do you know where she is?"
Trevor felt a hint of worry. "I have no idea, sir."
"So, back to the cell. On your feet."
They walked back to the basement without talking anymore.
When he began seeing the end of the tunnel to the dream world for the thousandth time, Trevor heard a metal clang and footsteps from some corridor. It was short until the unpleasant guard appeared, not escorted by the two big men from before, but escorting a small person.
"A visitor, Belmont," the guard murmured before he left.
In the dark of the cell, his eyes took a while to identify Mother Bethania, who was facing another way. He called her and she looked for the sound, turning her head carefully.
"How have you been, Mother?"
"I already tripped five hundred times. But the thing is gone. It didn't torment me anymore. Are the other two here? The boy and the girl?"
"They're in other cells."
"If they left you together, you would've already burned this building to the ground," the Mother laughed, "You, in the corner. Why did they arrest him?"
The guard in the corner, who was supposed to watch them, was snoring like a pig, but did not reply.
"Don't even try, Mother," Trevor laughed as well.
"I know you're there. Don't pretend you can't speak," the nun stomped with a foot.
The guard gave them both a stinky eye. "What's wrong, Mother?"
"What are these three accused of?"
"Killing the priest, vandalizing the church, and the disappearance of a young girl."
"Disappearance of whom?" Trevor frowned.
"Did you do this, Belmont?" The Mother turned to him.
"Me? No."
What the hell? Trevor connected the dots on the detail the guard let out about Katrina. He looked at Alucard, who shrugged. It was your doing, wasn't it?
"How about the church, was that you?" The mother inquired.
"I'd like to, but I'm afraid I didn't do it."
"I heard the priest is also dead."
"I haven't even seen him before, Mother."
"I think you've got the wrong man," she spoke to the guard, who said nothing.
Trevor sighed and laid back on the wall. The guard started snoring again. Wait.
"Mother, how's that chant again?" He asked, as if he wanted nothing from it, "My memory ain't good anymore."
"You forgot it already?" She put her hands on her waist, "These youngsters from today. Listen closely and remember it this time."
From the corner of his eye, Trevor looked at the guard at each new verse, until he saw him let his head down forward, with a drool thread dripping out of his mouth. That's it!
"Mother, grab the keys," Trevor whispered, "Walk two steps to your left and get them on the guard's belt."
As soon as she turned towards the sleeping guard, Trevor heard the sound of the trapdoor opening. The Mother also turned her head in the direction of the noise and froze in place as a statue. The guard that interrogated him approach and told them to stand up. The guard on the end of the corridor was properly poked to be awaken and to handle him the keys to set them free.
"Could you do us a favor and untie us?" Trevor asked, showing his tied wrists.
The guard ignored him, pushing him forward with the other two and guiding the Mother by the hand. They were only untied after going through the trapdoor from which they entered. One of the big guards waited by the exit with a fabric bag and a rolled paper, handing it to the chief guard.
"Can you read, or should I call the registrar?" The chief asked.
"Gimme that," Trevor stretched his hand and unrolled the document.
"Through this document, the city of Ploiesti thanks the three travelers for avoiding the conflict of the people and the itinerant troupe, as well as the freeing of Sister Sofia from the cursed shadow that controlled her, an event testified by the public eye. It also thanks for the discovery of the death of Father Ivan; it was investigated in journals of his handwriting that he stated to be under the same curse. The city solicits that the travelers set free how many citizens are within their capacities.
However, the church on the Tree square finds itself deteriorated by suspected action of the same three travelers, and the paid amount corresponds to the initial intended value, subtracted the amount required for restoration of the church.
May God bless and protect you,
City Hall of Ploiesti."
God damn it, how come? When Trevor took his eyes off of the document, the huge man put a fabric bag in his hands with little care. It weighs a lot less than I expected.
"And now you're a free man, Belmont," the chief guard chuckled.
Trevor bid farewell to Mother Bethania with a hug and a whispered "thanks" for her attempt. He gestured at the other to so that they followed him. They wandered until they found themselves by the Tree once again, then heading to the doors of the tavern. Trevor stretched his neck before he came in, looking up hopelessly to the sky a last time.
The male owner received them, leaving a full dish on a table, then approaching them. "Is everything fine, sir?"
"'Fine' isn't quite the word," Trevor shrugged, "Is everything fine around here?"
"Thank God it is. I confess that the people here weren't talking about other than you," the owner came closer and started whispering, "You three have a gift of getting into trouble…"
"Let's say it's intentional," Trevor laughed, "The bedroom awaits."
"Suit yourselves," the owner went away.
They climbed upstairs. Inside, Trevor gave Sypha the letter and Alucard approached to read as well. Trevor sal their faces turn into the same one he made behind the city hall. Sypha, however, burst out in a confounded laugh, apologizing for it. She folded the paper and put it in the middle of a book on botanics that he saw her read in more than one occasion.
"I actually want to throw it away, but paper is paper," she sighed, "I suggest that we get the hell out of here as soon as possible."
"It was exactly what I was going to propose," Trevor got back the Morning Star and tied it to his belt once again, "Let's leave before they start asking us to work for free. Let's just go downstairs. A willow tea and the bill wait for us there."
After a knock on the door, the owner of the stable was finally home. He asked them if they were there for horses, as he would do with any customer, taking a second to recognize them. He told them to come in, more lively than in the first time, and his wizen wife, keeping the stove lit, also received them with the joy her manners allowed. The man almost begged for them to sit by the table and split among all the remaining cabbage rolls from dinner. None of them dared to refuse, after a whole day fasting in the cell.
"I've heard the news," the owner said, "We are in eternal debt with you all."
"Is Katrina all right?" Alucard asked.
"She is, thank God. I don't even know how to thank you. But…" The man hesitated, "I think she's entering that phase."
"What do you mean?" Alucard laughed up his sleeve.
"She spent the night outside. She's never done that before, and doesn't want to tell us where she was."
"A good grounding will solve that," Trevor shrugged, speaking with a full mouth.
Something tells me that grounding made you no good boy. Alucard continued eating quietly. And shall my trickery not be found out. Concentrated on the cabbage, he heard over the conversation where Trevor negotiated saddling horses for discount, despite the nightfall. The owner denied it.
"You can go wherever you want, and that will be on me," he smiled affably, "For my daughter."
As they got up, Trevor went to help with the horses in spite of the refusal. They left the kitchen to meet the cold outside, in a wind that foreshadowed rain. While he looked around the movement of lanterns and saddles, Alucard heard a side window of the house opening and a figure jumping out of it, running in his direction, and hugging him.
"How are you?" He asked.
"Are you leaving already?" Katrina said, "At a time like this?"
"To your room, Katrina," her father ordered.
"They saved me, Dad. I'd like to say goodbye."
Alucard noticed that she was still shaking by holding her hand, and felt a heartache. Maybe it'll never leave you. He let go of her, and she stared at him with a gaze a thousand times more vivacious than the time he met her. No wonder. He heard the girl's father tell her to go back to her bedroom, what she did not bother answering.
She requested that Alucard crouched to whisper in his ear. "Rosa will come back next year. She'll take me away."
Sorry?, he thought of saying, as well as "don't do that", but he swallowed his own words. "Be careful," he ended up choosing.
She disguised it by kissing his cheek and he got up again.
"What about the embroidery you were working on?" He asked.
"It's hard to finish like this, so I took a break. But look," she got up the hem of her dress to show a detail of orange flowers, "I was pretty good on it when I wasn't trembling."
"It's very good. What about the chant?"
"It's a beautiful song, sir. Oh, sorry. Drop the 'sir', isn't it?" Katrina laughed, "But it is indeed beautiful, and it helps me sleep."
"I'm glad it's working. It was taught to me by a Mother in the convent. She sings it way better than me, in case you want to learn it from her someday," he chuckled.
"I think I've seen a Mother in the church before."
"Quite probably," Alucard looked over his shoulder and saw the work finishing, "Go back to your room, before you get in trouble."
"Katrina, go call your brother," her father asked her, loud and clear.
She left him behind and got back inside through the same open window. Soon, turning around the house, a slender young man showed up, dressed for the cold, with the same light blonde hair as the rest of the family. Alucard inspected the ready carriage and saw in it a rustic beauty, one made to ride with four horses. The young man sat on the coachman's bench, and the three found their places in the back, finally putting away the bothersome baggage.
"I'll take you to the city exit, gentlemen, and milady," the young man looked back, "Where are we going?"
"To the hospital," Alucard said, before he missed the chance.
"What for?" Trevor frowned.
"I'd like to have a word with Leo before we leave."
The other three agreed, not caring much. Alucard leaned with his back on the side of the wagon and watched the house as they left. On the door, he saw Katrina's figure waving, and he waved back with a smile.