She sat down on the stool in the dark, occasionally leaping up, convinced a snake had got in from under the door. Without any light at all, it was not possible to see even her hand in front of her face. Nothing. Except the sound of dripping damp.
After a while time ceased to exist, and a deep chill permeated her skin, sinking into her lungs, muscles and organs. Once or twice, she toppled from the stool with fatigue and lay curled in a tight ball on the freezing cobbles. And it was during this fitful, uncomfortable sleep that the lessons learned over the past twelve months began to replay. In a cinematic reel some were shown more than once, others slowed and then repeated with increasing lucidity – a theatrical show of moments missed and clues overlooked. It was as if someone or something was pinching her awake, determined to point out hurtful yet significant moments. Look… look… did you not see? You have been blinded, look, look again!
She moaned in her semi-consciousness. How her stomach cramped and her head ached. Nausea swelled and rose, and once the visions came, they piled in, one after the other. This had not happened in such a long time… why… why now…?
What was that? What did the whispers say?
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to blank out the images. No, it could not be true. Had she been sleepwalking? Blind? Certain interchanges, glances and references not previously noticed, much less acknowledged, were now quite clear. Painfully so.
Suddenly, any notion of sleep became impossible. In fact, never in all her life had she been so awake. Why had she been sleepwalking all these months and not seen this? Dutiful, she had been a model pupil and enjoyed every minute. The house was luxurious, the clothes beautiful, the reading surprisingly interesting. It was vital to be healthy, Sophia had told her, and, as such, she had eaten everything provided and happily downed the healthy drinks Sophia made each evening. Every lesson had been absorbed, every test passed. Always she applied herself fully, longing, yearning to be admitted to the Order and begin travelling the world. Indeed, she had hardly left the house or seen another soul!
Sitting upright now, on the small stool in the underground prison, her mind sparked alive with information. All of this had been on show, all of it… yet she had seen nothing. Why?
Show me… show me…
The spirits that had been kept at bay with tricks taught by Sophia…
Show me!
Memories crowded in – Heinrich and Sophia laughing together, an exchanged conspiratorial glance, his hand on the small of Sophia’s back, distant chatter as Lenka drifted into sleep… a drugged sleep?
Had they lain together? Were they man and wife?
A gold ring on her dressing table, one which Sophia had quickly slid out of sight…
My God, they were man and wife!
And the house, it was theirs, yes?
A document flashed before her.
Image after image, truth after truth, was shown to her. Those milk drinks Sophia had brought in after studies in the evening… Yes, how quickly Lenka had fallen asleep, how dreamy the mornings… And now, here without the sedation, without the hypnosis he’d exerted and the diversion of intense studies, the situation was clear! Her powers of clairvoyance were back. He’d been right on that night he’d walked her home this time last year – keep people distracted and they noticed nothing. No wonder the house had been ready so quickly. There had not even been time to pack. Instead, she’d been taken straight there to a fully furnished home.
The pain when it came, delayed by denial and shock, was immense, the wound searing, all dreams for the future and realities of the past a lie. Her heart squeezed into a fist, her throat constricted, and tears streamed down her face. Sophia and he were lovers, husband and wife. But she’d thought… Oh no, oh God no, the pain was terrible, terrible, like nothing ever in her life, not even Oskar. Heinrich and herself had been together so intimately, night after night after night!
Like a wild animal she howled, tilting back her head and roaring, screaming with soul pain.
He had not felt the same, had not even cared. All illusions lifted now, veils obscuring truth after truth removed. For him she had been nothing more than a job, a recruitment. It seemed odd, though. If she was nothing more than a task, that meant he was a puppet. So who, then, was the puppet master?
All tears dried. So what was really happening, then? If all she had been told was a lie and everything was an illusion, what the hell was going to happen now? Had nothing been true, including what would take place at the initiation? It was supposed to be one day, yet already it was two more… A cold wind blew against her face as if a door had opened somewhere. Yet the air was still, damp dripped, and silence hissed.
Who were der Orden der schwarzen Sonne? How had he found her and been in touch with her mother, a man like that?
We knew your great-grandmother, the baroness…
Why had she never even thought of this before, so blinded by desire and the wonderful thoughts he had projected for her future? Panic now gripped her. She’d been cornered.
While all concept of time had dissipated, it was at the precise moment she realised her clairvoyance had been suppressed while they’d indoctrinated her that day two in the prison became day three.
I could turn this around, I am more powerful, he’s lured me here for…
Footsteps clicked in the corridor outside, cutting off all further thoughts. And on the strike of one minute past midnight, a visitor arrived.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The man sat on the opposite side of the cage, observing Lenka through the bars. She screwed up her eyes in the glare of his oil lamp. He had on a black woollen suit, a fedora pulled low over his eyes, was clean shaven and very old, with an ashen, deeply etched complexion. As ancient as one of her grandmother’s crones, there was an odour of decay about him that seemed oddly familiar, although she couldn’t place it.
Evidently, the man did not want her to see his eyes, but there was no disguising the wide set of his nose or the jagged teeth when he spoke.
“Good day, Lenka.”
Her jaw had become rigid with cold, and it felt strange to speak. “Sir.”
“May I say what a pleasure it is to meet you? I knew Baroness Jelinski personally. It was too bad she frightened the priests. But now, look, you are here!”
His voice had an edge of malice, an undertone of amusement.
“I did not know her, sir.”
“Of course not, she died before you were born. However, we are immensely pleased to have tracked you down. Your grandmother, Olga, was a bitter disappointment and unfortunately not of the same calibre as the baroness. She would not comply – not a worthy successor at all. But thanks to your mother, we now have you!”
Lenka frowned. Ah, so it had not been Heinrich alone, had never been a chance connection or a lead followed – her mother had been in league with der Orden der schwarzen Sonne all along.
“I do not wish to continue with this. I want to go.”
The bottom row of spiky teeth, his smile that of a catfish, faded. “Ah, I understand you are nervous, but there is no need. No need at all.”
Shivering, she regarded him more closely now her eyes had adjusted. There was something so strange about this man, the bridge of his nose unusually wide and only the lower teeth showing, the outer ones larger and spikier than the others. The backs of his hands, too, were not simply veined and crinkly but scaly like a lizard. He really was extremely old.