As I walked back toward the castle, I looked around, sure I would now see tracks in the snow. Sure enough, a set of large indents led from the stable around the main building and disappeared off toward the front entrance. They clearly belonged to the Beast, a name which fit my betrothed much better than Dominic.
No other prints appeared, however—as if the Beast and I were alone in this well-kept place. I frowned. Something was even more wrong with this kingdom than I had imagined. While I tried to find a way around the block preventing me from projecting to Lily, I wouldn’t forget my original goal. I needed to find out what had happened here, and how to reverse it. And, hopefully, while doing that, I would find a way to break my engagement. The sooner I could leave the Beast behind forever, the better. I certainly had no intention of ever letting him touch me. I shuddered at the thought of being that close to him.
I followed the footprints, confident the Beast would be long gone to whatever lair he usually frequented. For the second time, I trod the shallow stairs and paused in front of the huge doors. The castle lacked the cultivated feeling of the magical garden. Instead it felt dark and ominous, even in the bright morning light. I felt sure that every crevice in this cavernous place must be full of dust.
The doors didn’t swing open for me this time, and I pushed at the small door cut into one of the bigger ones. It swung open reluctantly, and I sighed before entering the entrance hall. The garden still made me nervous, but I found it less repugnant than I had expected. The open air turned out to be preferable to the gloomy castle.
Inside, I faced a broad staircase that rose upwards before splitting into two. I had already decided to follow the stairs as high as they would take me. It seemed too simple to hope that height would allow me to bypass the mysterious wall blocking my projections, but I had to try everything. Just in case.
As I stepped forward my stomach twisted, reminding me that I still hadn’t eaten. As if on cue, a door in the far corner of the entrance hall swung wide, allowing me a glimpse of a long, dark dining table. My feet turned toward it, following the instructions of my stomach over my mind.
Sunlight streamed through a row of tall windows that faced onto yet more gardens to the rear of the castle. The oversized room contained the longest table I had ever seen. It looked particularly out of place in this empty land, and the food that had been laid out at one end looked small and lonely.
But when I approached the single seat that had been set for a meal, I realized the size of the table had been deceiving. There was actually enough food for a miniature feast, it was merely dwarfed by the expanse of empty wood. More food than I could possibly eat had been laid out in gleaming bowls and platters. I paused. Was this the Beast’s meal? Surely even he could not eat this much.
I peered around the room but could see no one. After a moment of deliberation, I sat. As much as I regretted it, this was my home now, and I had to eat. If the Beast disliked my actions, perhaps he would finally be roused to speak to me.
The food tasted so delicious it was hard to limit myself to only a small portion of each dish, but I wanted to try everything. I wished I could let Lily know that at the very least I had a warm bed and a full stomach. Loneliness crashed over me. I had never been without a built-in best friend before.
Several tears slid down my cheeks, and for the first time I felt grateful I was completely alone. At least there was no one to witness my grief. As I reached to wipe the moisture away, the rustle I had heard earlier in the corridor swept through the room. It sounded so much like whispering that I twisted, searching the room with my eyes. I was still alone.
I stood up abruptly, and my chair crashed backwards onto the floor. Feeling foolish, I picked it back up before hurrying from the room. I had eaten too much already, and I needed to find a way to communicate with my sister.
Chapter 5
I wandered through the castle for a long time before I managed to find the tallest tower. The invisible whispers followed me. At first, I got hopelessly lost, wandering through an endless maze of interconnected corridors and rooms. The castle had clearly been expensively and elegantly decorated at some point. But, unlike my room, the majority of it had fallen into dusty disrepair.
The contrast indicated that someone had clearly prepared for my arrival. I remembered the line of lights that had led me to my room. What sort of strange curse was this? Was the castle itself responsible for its own care? I shook my head at the fanciful thought. How could a magic building have fed and groomed my horse?
But the gloomy, shadowy castle, combined with the whispers all around me, fed the mad imaginings. Perhaps it had not been the curse that had warped the Beast’s mind; perhaps living here for so long alone had done it.
I shook my head. No. The Beast wasn’t mad—he had written coherent letters, after all—he was evil. He must be evil to have brought down such a curse upon himself. And I had seen the evidence myself in the cruelty of the events of the Princess Tourney. The Tourney he had called and that had, therefore, been magically shaped to fit him.
The darkness he had brought to these lands had nearly overtaken Marin—and all the other kingdoms still stood in danger. And yet here he sat, holed up in his strange castle, carelessly destroying the lives of innocent girls he had never even met.
If the castle was dark and terrifying, it had been he who had made it that way, and not the other way around.
What did the Beast do to curse himself and his kingdom? I wondered for the thousandth time. I shook off the thought. Filling my head with horrifying theories wouldn’t help me fix my projections or find the truth. I needed proof, and I had a whole castle in which to search for it.
After a while of aimless wandering, I remembered again that the lights had led me to my room. Perhaps a friendlier power dwelt here alongside the Beast. He had certainly shown no effort to see to my comfort.
“I’m looking for the tallest tower. Could you show me the way?” It felt foolish to speak the words aloud to the empty air, but it could hardly hurt.
I had no immediate response, and no candles sprang to life to lead me. But I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. When I moved toward the whispers rather than away from them, I seemed to find more open doors and staircases. I began to listen for them, and soon I found myself in an enclosed staircase that spiraled upwards.
As I climbed stair after stair, I caught glimpses through a series of small windows of what appeared to be a second staircase, somehow twisted around mine. And every time I passed the openings, I heard the whispers.