Rose screamed. She sat up in the bed, jerking her head first to the right, then to the left. Was it still in the room?
Frau Geruscha burst in. “What is it?”
“Do you see it?” Rose’s terror was so strong she could taste bitterness in the back of her throat. “It was just here. Did you see it?”
“What, Rose? See what?”
“Something was here, right here by my bed. I saw it!”
“What did it look like?”
Rose shuddered. “It was a small, white man, and I could see right through him. It was here. It looked me straight in the eye.”
“Were you dreaming? Because nothing is here now.” Frau Geruscha searched the room as she spoke. “And your door was closed.”
A dry sob escaped her. “I know not. I only know I was terrified. Oh, I’m so tired of these nightmares.”
“It’s time we took some stronger action.” Frau Geruscha narrowed her eyes, looking ready to do battle. “Hold my hand and say these words with me. ‘In the name of Jesus, I command all evil spirits to leave this room and never return.’”
Rose took her hand and repeated the words with Frau Geruscha. After saying them, she felt a measure of peace. She told herself that Jesus was more powerful than any demon. But her skin still crawled at the thought of being alone in her room again. “Can I sleep with you, in your bed tonight?”
“Yes, my dear. In fact, tomorrow I’ll find a servant boy to come and move your bed into my room.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Moncore waited in his dark, dank cellar for night to fall. He cursed and gnashed his teeth at the voices in his head. Now that he had been seen, his plans would have to be moved up. He couldn’t wait. Lady Salomea would be brought out of hiding in two weeks. He had to act sooner, before he was found out and captured.
You’re a failure if you don’t get this right.
Sometimes he hated the voices. But they were always there for him, always supporting him in his goal of revenge.
No one respects you. If you don’t want to be a blighted failure, you must kill Duke Wilhelm.
Moncore didn’t argue with the voices, as he knew they were right. After all, the spirits of darkness were in a position to know everything, weren’t they?
He remembered the monk, Gustav, who had befriended him and given him a place to sleep when Moncore was a boy. Gustav told Moncore that his voices were lies, of the Devil. But Moncore felt the voices had chosen him, an orphan with few prospects for the future. They helped him learn to place curses, to enforce his will on those he didn’t like. They gave him power. So he gave himself over to them. In turn, they helped him ascend to a level of respect in the household of the Duke of Marienberg when the old man was still alive. But his son piously cast Moncore out.
It was that Geruscha’s fault. She convinced him my services were evil.
But finally revenge was in sight. He’d located Duke Godehard’s only daughter, had even fooled that simpleton family she’d been living with into leading him straight to her. Very soon, he would send powerful demons to possess her and completely destroy her sanity. Then he would kill Geruscha and Wilhelm, taking special pleasure in exterminating the annoying man who had kept him on the run and hiding these last seventeen years, interfering with his work as a conjurer to the rich nobility.
The bells began to toll, announcing curfew. Moncore waited, to make sure no one in the house was likely to hear or see him emerge from the tiny cellar. Finally, he crept up the steps.
A spider’s web caught him across the mouth. He angrily clawed it away, cursing the spider under his breath. He moved silently, bending down to keep from bumping his head on the low ceiling as he crossed the floor toward the front of the house. He peeked out the window that faced the street and immediately saw two guards. They looked to the right and left of them, peering down the alley between the buildings across the street. One of them rested his hand on the handle of the sword at his hip.
Moncore ducked away from the window as they came closer. He smiled maliciously. He could wait a few days, until the watchfulness of the guards began to slacken. Then he would make his move, and no one in either the Duke of Hagenheim’s family, or the Duke of Marienberg’s, would ever feel safe again.
Chapter 26