The Overture of Fear & Passion (The Daemonica Symphony Series Book 1) Page 10

  “Could I ‘ave a look at those?” She asked, smiling innocently, and holding out her hand.

  “Nay lassie. Trade secret, she says. Ye ken hoo it is wi’ ye’ Witches an’ yer secrets.”

  Fiona nodded, pouting slightly.

  Juliet looked around and noticed that the pub had gotten even busier, large groups of people gathered around, some Juliet assumed were locals, but it seemed that everyone from Livingstone was now here as well, including the Vampires. She saw Clarissa approach Niko and a small hiss escaped her lips.

  “Fiona do you think you could make something like that pill, but the opposite? One that makes it easier for Demons to get drunk?” Juliet asked, she’d always hated that she could never really drown her sorrows. It took a litre of strait spirits just to get her tipsy.

  Fiona shook her head, “Dat’s not my kind o’ magic.” She said. Juliet hadn’t been serious but was now curious.

  “What, you mean there is a kind of magic that does that.” She asked and her eyes widened when Fiona nodded.

  “But it’s kinda like the Otherworld equivalent of the black market. I’ve ‘eard rumours but to the covens, it’s considered taboo. We’re naht supposed to profit aff our spells ‘n th’ like.”

  She looked at William and Sean for confirmation. William just shrugged his shoulders, but Sean’s eyebrows had narrowed.

  “There's a place I've 'eard of in Dublin, they're usually in the bigger cities y’see; London, New York.” He said.

  “What is?”

  He shook his head, “It’s complicated.”

  Juliet looked from Fiona and Sean, raising her eyebrows while she waited for more information.

  Fiona sighed, “It's usually a bar, somewhere seedy, like in a dark alley or somethin’ an' its exact location is a closely guarded secret. You 'ave to know someone who knows where it is, or you'd never find it.”

  “But it’s not just a bar, it’s some kind of gateway.” Sean interjected.

  “A gateway?” Juliet asked.

  “To the Underworld.” Fiona answered.

  “What, Hell?”

  Sean nodded but Fiona shook her head.

  “It’s not Hell, it’s the Underworld, Hell and Heaven are beyon’ the Underworld.”

  “Isn’t that purgatory?”

  “No purgatory is where you go before you go to the Underworld, that’s like the waiting room.”

  Juliet shook her head, wondering if maybe she was a little bit drunk after all.

  Fiona rolled her eyes, “The Underworld is where the trials take place, to decide which domain you go to after you die.”

  Juliet nodded, some of this was beginning to make sense. She’d heard of the stories of the Underworld, through books and movies. She’d just never realised it was all real and more complicated than she’d imagined.

  “So, you can get to the Underworld by going to one of these bars?” She asked.

  Fiona pursed her lips, “Not exactly.”

  “It’s more like a place where ‘dose in ‘de Underworld can meet the livin’ who seek ‘dem.” Sean added, “But you ‘ave to pass some kind o’ challenge ‘fore you can make contact.”

  “What kind of challenge?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and Fiona explained.

  “No one knows. Dose dat ‘ave done it never talk abou’ it.”

  Sean laughed suddenly and Juliet waited for an explanation.

  “I just realised why ‘dey all ‘ave ‘de names ‘dey do.”

  Fiona looked at him with a raised brow.

  “De one in Dublin is called Bhfreagra.” Juliet blinked at the unfamiliar word that sounded like ‘Vreegra’.

  “It means ‘puzzle’ in Gaelic.” Fiona explained.

  “An’ I’ve ‘eard ‘de one in New Yark is called Labyrinth.” Sean continued.

  “Oh Aye.” William said, joining in. “There’s a place Bucharest called Enigmă. Th’ doc sends me there tay pick up supplies every noo an’ then. Seedy devil runs the place.”

  Juliet’s eyes bulged before she started laughing almost hysterically.

  “Casse-tête” She said, trying to catch her breath, “It’s a bar I’ve been passed a hundred times but never gone in. It means Brainteaser.”

  Everyone joined in with Juliet’s laughter although it was obvious from their expressions that they were laughing at her a little bit more than with her. She was starting to get used to being the only one at Livingstone who hadn’t grown up in the Otherworld and she was beginning to see the humour of it.

  Sean continued to elaborate about the mysterious bars, but Juliet had become distracted again and foolishly looked over to where Niko was standing. He’d been watching her and instead of looking away, he had continued to stare, his lips pursed and eyebrows slanting inwards. Despite his vexed expression, Clarissa was still laughing and chatting away, her hand finding its way onto his arm.

  “So, besides bein’ a kind o’ gateway to the Underworld, ‘dey’re also a hub fir ‘de oder kind o’ underworld, the less literal one. Where folk can get connected to Witches who practice dark magic, or ‘dey can buy ‘tin’s on ‘de black market; drugs, weapons, you name it.” Juliet looked away from Niko and Clarissa and tried to focus on what Sean was saying but her head was no longer in it.

  Checking the time on her phone, she was surprised to see how late it was.

  “What time does the bus go back, William?” She asked. He checked his watch.

  “You’ve missed the nine o’clock. Patty took that one. Mine’s next, it’s not ‘til two.” He frowned at her expression.

  “What’s wrong, do you want to go?” Fiona asked, looking at Sean before returning her eyes to Juliet and pouting slightly.

  Juliet shook her head, “No it’s O.K. I was just getting a little tired.” She lied. The way Niko was looking at her and the way Clarissa was throwing herself at him, left a bitter taste in her mouth that the Whiskey was failing to wash away.

  She caught William watching her from over the rim of his glass as he downed the last of his drink. He stood and pulled out his vial of pills, taking one out and swallowing it dry.

  “C’mon girly. I’ll take ye’ back.” He said, patting his pocket to find his keys.

  “No, really it’s O.K. I’ll stay. I just need some caffeine.”

  “An’ then ye’ll be up all night. Nope, can’t ‘ave that.” He winked at Juliet before making his way around the table.

  “Ye’ alrigh’ te’ stay ‘ere an’ look after this one?” He asked Sean, nodding at Fiona. Sean nodded and smiled into his beer. Fiona blushed and kept her eyes on her own drink.

  “Righ’. I’ll be back.” He said and nodded for Juliet to go ahead of him.

  THEY MADE THEIR way back to the castle in relative silence. William asked her questions about her life back home and took a special interest when she mentioned playing the violin.

  “Me Da played th’ fiddle. I think I still ‘ave it, tucked away somewhere.” He said.

  “I’d love to see it, if you wouldn’t mind showing me.” She said, she always loved examining old instruments. They told her stories; where the lacquer had worn away from use, where scratches and nicks created valleys and planes. Every tiny detail told her so much about the piece.

  She noticed William watching her from the corner of his eyes, careful to keep a close eye on the dark road as well. She got the feeling he would be going hunting for that violin as soon as he got back to his home, which stirred her curiosity.

  “Where do you live? I mean, do you have a room in the castle or how does it work? I’ve never even thought about it before. But are there apartments or something where all the staff get to live?” She asked.

  “Aye, there are. They all keep to themselves mostly. The Witches share adjacent apartments on the ground floor ay the sooth-east wing. The Vamps all stay in the sub quarters. The others are scattered aroun’ here an’ thar.”

  “And you, where do you stay?” She asked. Again, he focussed his eyes on her f
or a little bit longer, a smile forming beneath his orange beard.

  “I’ve go’ a place in the woods. Not far from the lake.”

  She laughed a little bit.

  “Why’s tha’ funny?”

  “Oh, it just sounds too perfect. You’re so woodsy and you have a place in the forest. Is it a log cabin, with a fireplace and veranda?” She asked, smiling.

  He chuckled. “Aye, righ’ cosy ‘n’ all.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” She smiled, imagining him drinking his whiskey by an open fire. But something troubled her, and she couldn’t help frowning.

  “Wha’s th’ matter noo?”

  “Nothing. I was just thinking that it must get lonely. As nice as it sounds.”

  He nodded and they continued in silence for the remainder of the drive.

  As they pulled up to the entrance of her wing, William brought the bus to a stop and scratched his beard.

  “If yer’ not too busy tomorrow, maybe I can find that ol’ fiddle an’ we’ll see if ye ken any Gaelic songs, aye?” He said, his eyes twinkling.

  Juliet smiled and opened the door, “Sounds perfect. I’ll meet you somewhere?” She asked, stepping out of the bus but holding the door open.

  “Aye. Here’ll do. Two O'clock?”

  She nodded with a smile and shut the door. She waved as William drove off, the whiteness of his teeth clearly visible as he grinned in the darkness of the bus.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A startled rabbit hopped by in a flash, causing Juliet to startle and grab for William’s arm. He bellowed with laughter and patted her hand as she blushed and smiled with embarrassment.

  Warm sunlight drifted down through the trees as they made their way through the woods. It was the warmest part of the day, but the shade of the overhead branches protected them from the worst of the heat.

  She’d dressed comfortably in baggy, cropped jeans and sneakers. Fiona had even approved of her outfit, probably because her white t-shirt was skin-tight and was cropped just above the navel.

  She hadn’t been trying to look sexy since she didn’t think of this as a date, but she liked William and got the feeling he liked her as well. The way his eyes had fixed on her belly piercing definitely suggested he did anyway.

  She liked that she could relate to him, since William was a human and she had grown up thinking that she was too. And, even though she’d never really taken much of an interest in guys before, she’d found herself more interested lately. The combination of William’s rugged good looks and cantankerous personality made him particularly intriguing.

  “Is it much further?” She asked, not wanting to whine but also thinking that if they had to walk much further, she’d start to need a dip in the lake to cool off.

  “Jis’ roun’ this bend.” He said and she looked up as they turned a corner. He was right, the cabin was only another short distance away.

  The clearing allowed a huge pool of sunlight to shine down through the canopy, illuminating the cabin in a warm glow. It was even better than she imagined; it’s sloping, shingled roof and weather-worn log walls gave it the appearance of being part of the forest itself. It reminded her of fairy tales, and she wondered if William had built the cabin himself, his enormous physique definitely suggested he could have. William was watching her reaction and seemed to be pleased by her smile.

  Drawing nearer, the cabin looked small but inviting. She noticed a little garden that surrounded the veranda and she recognised lavender and rosemary, there was even echinacea and marigold. She found it all so remarkable that this man, who seemed to have such a rough exterior, clearly had many layers.

  The interior was not what she was expecting. She looked around the single room, surprised to find it neater than she would have imagined for a bachelor living alone. There was an old style cooker next to the fireplace and from the mantle hung copper pots and pans. Piles of logs made up almost one entire wall next to it, the other side was cluttered with waist high stacks of books and shelves adorned with liquor bottles; mostly whiskey she noted, reading the labels. On the other side of the room sat a small table with a single wooden chair. The ‘kitchen’ consisted of two small cabinets placed beneath a large window. A sink sat atop one of the cabinets and a toaster on the other. She lastly noticed the large bed in the corner, neatly made with fresh white sheets and a multi-coloured quilt. She looked away, the realisation that she was standing in a man’s bedroom left her feeling suddenly nervous.

  “No bathroom?” she asked, hoping William hadn’t noticed her reaction.

  “Out back” He said, nodding in the direction of the door close to the bed, his lip curving in a smile mostly hidden by beard.

  “Can I get ye’ a drink?” He asked “I’ve only got water or whiskey, or tea. But seems a bit hot fur tea.”

  Juliet smiled, “Water’s fine.” She said and he went over to the fridge.

  “Make y’self comfortable.” He said, nodding at the armchair by the fireplace.

  One armchair, she thought to herself, and one dining chair. She mused again over the loneliness of William’s life.

  He handed her the water, its coolness causing the glass to fog before he half disappeared underneath the bed. She watched with fascination as he rummaged and muttered, pushing out boxes and suitcases before he finally bellowed “Ah-ha” and reverse crawled his way out.

  He brushed a layer of dust off the wooden case, which in itself was a thing of beauty, and turned it over in his hands.

  “So, from what I remember, me Da had this ol’ fiddle handed doon tae him from his teacher from when he was jist a lad. Th’ teacher himself had it fur a long time an’ had it handed doon tae him from his father ‘n so on. But since he had nae kids of his own, he gave it tae his favourite student instead.”

  Seeming satisfied that it was clean enough to hand to Juliet, he offered it to her. She placed the case in her lap and inspected it carefully. She was relieved to see that there was no sign of rust or water damage of any kind on the latches or woodwork. She pursed her lips and gently opened the lid, letting out a breath.

  Considering it clearly hadn’t been maintained for several years, it’s condition could have been worse. The sound post and fingerboard both required replacing and she didn’t dare touch the three remaining strings which were as stiff as dry twigs. She presumed the missing G must have been wound with silver and would have been removed intentionally, possibly even sold. The hair on the bow was in a sad state, but otherwise the instrument was in very good condition. It was beautifully made, the precision of the craftsmanship noticeable in the incredibly smooth finish. The wood still shined brightly which told Juliet that it had been cared for by someone who knew what they were doing, who hadn’t cleaned it with chemicals which would erode the varnish.

  She looked inside one of the F holes, trying to see if she could make out the name of the luthier.

  “Cleddyf.” She said, pronouncing the name phonetically. She didn’t recognise the name and there was no year. William smiled and corrected her pronunciation. She hadn’t been far off, but his Gaelic tongue and throat were more used to forming the word.

  “It’s what me Da called it.”

  “What does it mean?”

  His head tilted to one side, “It’s a hard sword or blade.”

  Juliet’s lips puckered as she frowned.

  “I suppose that makes sense. Guitars are often called axes.”

  It was a shame it wasn’t in better condition so that she could hear its sound.

  “It’s a good one then?” William asked, standing over her with interest.

  She nodded and lowered the lid with a sigh.

  “It’s lovely, William. It needs a little bit of love though. There’s a man I know in Paris who restores old violins. Would you like me to have it sent to him?”

  She was hopeful he would say yes, it seemed like such a shame to leave such a beautiful instrument hiding underneath a bed.

  “Nah.” He said, sitting on the edge of t
he hearth.

  “Wouldna’ be much point. Me not knowin’ how to play ‘n all.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll have a child who might want to learn how to play.” She suggested.

  He nodded, “Aye, maybe.”

  The silence hung in the air like a fog of unfulfilled hopes and forgotten dreams.

  “So, you’ve been here a long time then?” She asked, hoping to lighten the mood again as she set down the case.

  “Aye, since I was a lad.” He nodded, still looking away.

  “That must have been hard.”

  “Nah. Me parents were nomads before we settled here. Travelled all ‘roun th’ highlands, never stayin’ in one place too long. Then this letter comes from the doc, tellin’ them ‘is old caretakers had died and would they like tae come ‘n live an’ work at Livingstone. Me Da figured it would be alrigh’ tae come an’ stay fur a bit. Didn’t plan on stayin’ too long mind. Just long enough tae make a bit o’ cash ‘fore he decided it was time to move on again.” He leaned against the mantle, the sight of his muscles bulging beneath his shirt momentarily distracting Juliet as he continued his story.

  “We were ‘ere abou’ a year before they were killed. I was fourteen by then. I’d bin helpin’ Da wi’ his work, so I already kent most’ve it. Doc Livingstone gave me a choice; I could stay ‘ere under his care or I could go off on me own. He’d look after me financially either way. I’d already ‘ad enough o’ the wonderers’ life by then y’see, so I stayed put.” He laughed and scratched his beard.

  “I had a couple of years muckin’ abou’ ‘fore it got borin’. The doctor tried tae get me tae learn the ‘istories, see if ‘e could make me inta some kind of professor or sumin’. Bu’ tha’ wasn’t fur me. I’ve got t’ be outdoors, in th’ muck. Aye?”

  Juliet nodded, understanding what it meant to know your calling even at a young age.

  “So, you’ve never thought to leave in all this time?” She asked.

  “Aye, a wee bit. Over ten years doin’ th’ same thin’, day in, day out. Gets old, it does. But where would I go?”