The Scythe and the Blade

Chapter Three: A Fool's Trade

Through the grand hallways of the castle's Eastern wing, George and Aldrea walked arm in arm. Aldrea's dress of emeralds waded through the sunlight along the polished marble floors, lighting the room with green glimmers. She stood only a hair taller than him, though still a year younger. Her posture was impeccable; she walked like a proper lady. George, on the other hand, was handsomely dressed and held his composure the best he could, yet he held his head down just a little too far. Nevertheless, he acted gentler now, and she, happier. Each wanted to better their first impression, embarrassed by their parents' introduction.

"I'm sorry for the way my father acted," said George. "I had asked him to let me show you the castle, to welcome you to the Cardinal. He shouldn't have sent me out and left you with Frankie."

"You don't need to apologize," Aldrea replied earnestly.

George nodded, but his lips pressed together as though he did not wholeheartedly agree.

"Our parents do not speak for us," she continued. "Besides, I know what your father's been through. All those men refusing to bring back his daughter... it would take a toll on any man."

"It isn't just that," contested George with a sigh. "It's not a simple spell, or so I've heard. The last men who tried were among the greatest necromancers in the world, certainly the greatest in the city. The poison still runs in my sister's blood, so bringing her back is a near impossible feat. That's why—" He stopped himself. He knew the story all too well, and had fought too hard to forget it. George wanted nothing less than to think of his father in that manner.

"I know. It was an awful time."

"What was?" interjected Frankie. Neither one of them had noticed where she'd come from, yet she acted as though she'd been there all along.

"Nothing important," assured Aldrea. "Only a story."

Frankie persisted. "I'd quite like to hear a story."

"Not this one, you wouldn't," said George, placing his hand on Frankie's shoulder. "Perhaps when you're older."

"I'm nearly as old as you are, so what makes you so special?"

"Trouble is, I wish I'd never heard it either."

This response seemed to satisfy Frankie. She shrugged. "So, where are we headed?"

"Nowhere in particular," George told his sister. "I just thought Aldrea deserved a proper tour of the castle." He turned to Aldrea as though for confirmation, and she welcomed his gaze with a friendly smile.

"And so you took her to the quietest, dullest hallway in the whole kingdom?" Frankie asked with a shade of skepticism.

George looked at her for a moment, not saying anything, stopping that string of conversation in its tracks. "Shouldn't you be in the garden right now, taking care of that cat of yours?"

"Ethyl," Frankie corrected. "Father says I spend too much time with her. I'm not supposed to see her anymore."

"And when has that stopped you?"

Frankie grinned. "Would you like to meet her, Aldrea?"

"I'd be delighted," replied Aldrea, clasping her hands together.

"Come with me. I've got a shortcut."

Frankie led them to one of the many decorative carpets placed along the hallways. She lifted the corner of it, revealing a wooden trapdoor which opened up to a long spiral staircase.

"Frankie," said George, "are you taking us through the catacombs?"

"You really should go down there more often. It's the quickest way to get anywhere in the kingdom.