Page 3 of The Shadow of the Count
“I am. I was in Paris studying. I have learned many things. Paris is a huge place with so much culture.”
“It is. I wish I had taken time to explore.” Instead, he had arrived from London and gone straight to the train, his disposition much soured by Don’s refusal to come with him. He’d dreamed such romantic dreams, which was silly considering he was the one who was leaving.
“You are a solicitor?”
“A librarian and archivist,” Peter said proudly. He knew that would bore many people, but he loved what he did.
“Oh, you have a love for the books then?” Now Yvgeny leaned toward him, elbows on the table.
“I do.” He warmed to the conversation. “Everything from torrid novels to history tomes.”
“I feel the same about art. I would have stayed in Paris for an eternity, had my father not called me home.”
“Oh, I hope he’s not unwell.” That would be awful for this young man.
“He has fallen from a roof and needs help with the animals. His neighbors help, but it is my place as his son.”
“That’s awful! I’m so sorry.” He had very little family himself, but he understood why Yvgeny had to go home. “So where is your home?”
“I live outside Bistritz, in Romania. It is near the Borgo Pass in the mountains.”
“I’m going near there, I believe.” He pulled out his leather-bound notebook. “Yes. Castle Pollidorus. I hear it’s an ancient family home.”
Yvgeny’s eyes went wide, the man obviously horrified, from the rictus his face had become.
He blinked. Had he made some sort of cultural faux pas referring to something so old, or maybe an aristocratic family? Peter knew there was unrest in the area. Perhaps this man was opposed to the old ruling class and he’d stepped into a political mess.
“My friend, what is at the castle for you?” Yvgeny asked, shaking his head. He didn’t seem to think there could be anything where Peter was going that was good.
“I’m going to catalog the library there. It’s never been done. Can you imagine?” He smiled, trying not to bounce.
“No. No, I cannot. No one goes up to the castle, my friend. No one.” That dark gaze burned into him, leaving him a bit shaken.
Now Peter frowned, wondering why Yvgeny was so pale and dramatic. “Is it very isolated?”
“It is high. Alone upon the side of the mountain. There is no way to get help except to come back into the village.”
“Well, I’m not afraid of solitude.” In fact, it would give him time to reflect on his life, on whether making his name was worth the pain in Don’s eyes. “And I don’t expect to need help.”
“Are you afraid of demons?” Yvgeny asked, clearly in all seriousness.
“Demons?” His frown deepened. “We all have our own, I suppose.” There. A leading answer.
He could have said he didn’t believe in demons, but he knew better. He’d seen evil. The desert of Egypt had shown him that terrible things existed, lurking just beyond the shadows. There they called them afreets, but they were all the same at the core. So, yes, he believed in them, but surely there was nothing to worry about on this trip. The job posting had come through a scholarly journal, pointed out by a trusted colleague.
“My friend, please turn back before it’s too late. That castle… It holds evil. Corruption.” Yvgeny spread his hands, appealing to Peter, his whole body evincing worry and no small amount of fear.
“Corruption?” He didn’t understand. The count was an elderly man, the countess long gone, no children to leave the castle to. The old man was probably lonely, and wanted his legacy preserved in some way. Peter was looking forward to the challenge.
“It has centuries of death and destruction contained inside.” Yvgeny put a hand on his arm, the grip far too tight to be polite. “Please do not go.”
“The count seems very kind, actually. And he gave me plenty of colleagues to check with about his collection. I feel quite safe.” A chill did run down his spine, though, didn’t it? Once he would have been able to deny such claims as fluff, but now… Yvgeny seemed so sure. So like some of the men in Egypt who had warned them about the afreets and what they could do. About curses being real.
Yvgeny gave him a searching look, dark eyes full of fear and sympathy mixed. “I understand a man must make his way in the world, but you put yourself at terrible risk.”
“Well, I—We have time before we arrive for me to think on it, yes?” He couldn’t turn back now, not and win his Donald’s heart. How could he go back with his tail tucked between his legs and say he’d been afraid?
“We do. I will do my best to convince you.”
