The Impaled Bride (Vampire Bride 3)

“Are we to live here now?” I ask with some distaste. Though I wish to live on a grand estate, this one appears beyond repair. “It is a ruin.”

“No, no, dearest Erjy. We came here because Viorica created a spell that only an Archwitch can use and left it here where it would be safe.” Balázs settles his gaze on Ágota. “Only Ágota can use the spell and that is why we have traveled here.”

“What sort of spell?” one of the male witches named Radu asks.

“One of the most powerful ever concocted. It was only used once before when the castle we were so rudely ousted from was created by Viorica.”

“That does not seem right,” one of the female witches says. “I remember the castle was gra

nted to you by a voivode for your loyalty long ago.”

The murmurs of agreement bring a sorrowful smile to Balázs’s face.

“You do not remember for erasure of your memory was a part of the spell. Viorica spelled the castle out of the very air, but everyone—including the coven—believed it had stood there for centuries. She wove the castle and its history into every aspect of this world so none would question its appearance.”

I am astonished by this announcement. I had seen my mother create our cottages out of earth and tree roots, but never imagined the full breadth of her power.

Balázs wisely allows the witches a moment to accept this truth. They whisper among themselves, stunned at the revelation.

“I am confused, for the witches were separated after we left. We did not live in the castle. My parents died. I was orphaned,” Henrietta says. “Why did you not create a safe haven immediately after departing here?”

“What you say is true.” Balázs nods, a sorrowful look upon his face. “At first, we thought it best if we spread out among the mortals so we could live normal lives. Unfortunately, some of our kind did not adapt well and were exposed. The mortals eventually learned how we could be killed. After a time, word reached Soffia and me that the witches were in danger. We called upon Viorica and she agreed to summon forth the castle. We came here and Viorica cast the spell. The castle was to be a safe haven for our people. And it was for a time.”

“And now you wish to summon forth another safe haven for us?” Henrietta asks. “Is that why we are here?”

“Yes, and the new one will reside alongside the Danube near Buda. It will be a great estate with one grand house, many cottages, and a vineyard.”

“A vineyard? Why make a vineyard? Why not replicate the castle and town again?” I ask.

Ágota answers this time. “I will not be creating the new haven out of thin air. Both the castle and estate originate in the Witch World. Spells were cast before the last exodus to preserve and hide them from our enemies, the destroyers. The Archwitches died before they could draw them through the Veil. My mother was able to pull the castle through with the help of Balázs and Soffia, but it left her bedridden for nearly a decade. If I am to bring forth the estate, I will need your assistance or I will endure a similar convalescence. I can do this without you, but I will fare better if you help me.”

“There is more to this,” Radu mutters.

“Yes. To bring forth the estate, we will drain the last of the magic stored in these relics from our world,” Balázs replies.

Silence greets this proclamation.

“Will the new estate be imbued with magic like these ruins?” I sense the answer will not be to my liking.

“In the Witch World, all magic was drained from the estate so it would not be detected by our enemies,” Ágota explains. “We will lose the last of the Witch World magic.”

“Other than what is in your veins,” Henrietta adds gloomily.

Ágota bows her head solemnly. “Yes.”

Radu sweeps his silver hair back from his high brow and lifts his eyes skyward. “Here I feel strong. Like my true self. Not weakened and disconnected from magic.”

People bob their heads in agreement and utter similar sentiments.

“What if we rebuild the ruins? Make our lives here?” Henrietta asks.

Other witches chime in. The swelling raucous stirs up the cats, who yowl with disapproval.

Staring through the archway into the icy night, I think of Albrecht and my dreams of being his wife that I will lose if I stay here. I understand why it would appeal to the witches to stay on top of this mountain, hidden from a world that has not been kind to them. But the world is not particularly kind to anyone. I have witnessed that truth with my own eyes.

“If we stay here, we doom ourselves,” I say loudly.

“How so?” Henrietta asks.