Ashes of Iris Read online

  Immediately, she felt as though she had stepped into another era. Eighteen-foot high stone walls surrounded her. A sweeping staircase took up almost the entire wall opposite the front door and light danced about the room, falling from the wrought iron chandeliers that clung to the ends of long chains. Above the sound of Aunt Marilyn's gasps of awe, Sophie could hear her parents arguing as they walked ahead.

  “How can you be so selfish? My daughter is getting married. Don't you think I deserve this?” Carol whispered fiercely, the hiss of her voice echoing through the room.

  “We are already spending enough money on this wedding,” Tim replied, “I'm not sure that adding the expense of a trip to Paris is the wisest decision.”

  “Pull your wallet out of your ass, Tim. I want a vacation,” Carol stomped ahead of her husband, turning left at the staircase and disappearing through a small archway. A tall, dark-haired man in a vintage-looking suit watched her pass as he leaned against the stone wall next to it, seeming unconcerned. Sophie started as the man turned and caught her eye, and she averted her gaze, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  A handsome young man stood at the base of the stairway, gesturing to them with a smile.

  “Welcome to Isa Caecilia,” he said in a thick accent, not unpleasant but deep and welcoming. She nodded in response, while Aunt Marilyn cooed in appreciation and gripped her arm.

  Tim led the way through the same archway Carol had stormed through moments earlier. Sophie let her aunt walk ahead, careful to avoid the glare of the man as she passed, though she could feel his eyes on her. Every few steps, a murmur of voices rose from somewhere in the distance. Up a narrow flight of stone stairs, and down another short corridor, Tim finally stopped in front of a dark wooden door.

  “This is yours, Marilyn,” he said.

  Without waiting for Aunt Marilyn to open her door, he continued on, waving for Sophie to follow him. She glanced back over her shoulder as her aunt waved an excited hand at her.

  “There doesn't seem to be many rooms on this floor,” Sophie commented as they walked down another few yards of vacant corridor.

  Silence answered her. Tim was walking a few feet ahead, lost in thought. Nodding her head once, she remained silent until they reached her door at the opposite end of the long hallway.

  “Alright, we're having lunch at one o’clock somewhere in town. We'll meet in the lobby,” Tim smiled briefly before turning and making his way back toward the stairway.

  Sophie watched him go, wondering at his odd behavior. It wasn't until he reached the end of the corridor and descended the stairs that she turned to the door. It swung open easily and she stepped into what was to be her room for the next ten days.

  It was nothing like she had imagined, and a far cry from the hotel rooms she had experienced before. The room was easily the size of the main level of Aunt Marilyn's modest two-story. She took another step forward and pushed the door shut behind her. Tall columns of windows lined the wall opposite the door, letting in long streams of golden sunlight. The light glanced off of a polished end table, catching her eyes and making them squint. Small pools of dust collected in the beams pouring from the windows, and she watched them swirl and dance in the invisible air currents. She saw, with delight, that the room was furnished mostly in antiques. Her fears were swept from her mind. A floor to ceiling stone fireplace caught her attention, and she moved to examine the wire clock above the mantle. Sophie realized that it had been over an hour since they arrived at the Zurich airport but she still had time to take a stroll around before lunch.

  Peeling off her thin jacket, she turned to drop it on the armchair beside the door when she noticed the king sized bed at the far end of the room. Four thick posts and a draping canopy of cream colored silk enshrouded the mattress. A thick bedspread, the same silken fabric as the canopy, was almost completely hidden by the abundance of throw pillows, all in various sizes and shades. It all appeared foolishly extravagant.

  With a small laugh and a shake of her head, Sophie turned to the door, pulling it tightly shut before proceeding toward her aunt's room. Though she would prefer to wander alone, she knew Aunt Marilyn would be furious to be left out of an opportunity to snoop. After the third unanswered knock, however, she realized that her aunt must have taken it upon herself to wander in solitude or, more likely, to seek out the rest of their family. Her sister's face flashed through her mind and Sophie, with a resigned sigh and a wistful glance toward the opposite end of the hall, made her way toward the lobby to do the same.

  “You told me we would have access to the entire Beyar hall!” A shrill voice met Sophie's ears as she neared the front entrance. She emerged through the archway into the almost vacant castle entrance and a quick glance to her right told her the strange, glaring man had left his haunt, and she felt a wave of relief. Standing at the front door with her hands on her hips and her head cocked to one side, Katie Iris embodied haughtiness. She was staring intently at the poor young man in front of her, who was flipping through coiled notebooks with flurried hands.

  “I'm sorry,” Sophie heard him mumble in a thick German accent. “It is housing storage at the moment, but we will empty it before your scheduled time.”

  “You're damn right you will,” Katie said, sweeping dramatically away from him and spotting her sister. “Sophie!”

  The squeal bounced from the tall stone walls as Sophie watched her younger sister stride gracefully toward her. Katie's waist length hair hung straight down her back, framing a face that had become less and less familiar over time. The wide blue eyes, once filled with wonder and excitement, were lined with thick makeup. Sophie supposed the purpose was to look sophisticated and mature, but the effect came off more like a Vegas showgirl.

  Thin arms circled her neck as Katie wrapped her in a stiff embrace. A hint of the same floral perfume her mother wore floated in the air.

  “Hi,” Sophie said, patting her sister lightly on the back.

  “What do you think?” Katie asked, pulling away and motioning to the vast lobby.

  “It's beautiful, really,” she replied, “how did you find it?”

  Katie, ignoring the question, turned back to the boy still shuffling pages in his notebooks.

  “Try to have the tables set up properly, if you can manage that much,” she said. “I don't want to have to move chairs myself. I think we paid enough for proper service.”

  Turning back to her older sister, Katie smiled sweetly and tilted her head to the side. Lifting her hands in a gesture of exasperation, she reminded Sophie of a stubborn teenager.

  “What a mess,” she said. “I may as well have done everything on my own. These people are so incompetent.”

  “I'm sure they're trying, Kate,” Sophie said, sending a look of apology toward the young man.

  Katie narrowed her eyes, but did not speak. She turned on her heels and marched in the opposite direction, only hinting that she expected Sophie to follow once she reached the end of the lobby and turned back with an expectant glare.

  With a well hidden sigh, Sophie dragged her reluctant feet toward her sister, silently wishing she had gone through with her initial plan of exploring the castle alone. She followed Katie through another archway into a smaller gathering area. Sitting on one of the three high-backed wooden armchairs was their father, his chin in his hands as he gazed out the window, seemingly unaware of their appearance next to him.

  “Daddy,” Katie whined as she plopped into the chair across from him. “I'm not happy with these people. They don't care about my wedding.”

  Tim jumped at the sound of his daughter's voice, his eyes widening in surprise.

  “What was that?”

  Sticking out her full bottom lip in a pout she had perfected over the years, Katie crossed her arms.

  “Nobody is listening to me. I want things to be done properly, but they keep messing it all up.”

  “Oh,” Tim said, rubbing his eyes with his fists and leaning forward, patting his daughter lightly on the kn
ee. “It'll all work out, honey. Don't worry about it.”

  Sophie snickered quietly at her father's use of his favorite catch phrase.

  Don't worry about it. The words had become a sort of mantra in the Iris household when Sophie was young. They had always made her skin crawl then, but now she just found them amusing.

  “Dad,” she said, earning a glare from her sister as she interrupted. “Are we driving to lunch?”

  “We'll drive into town, but your mother wants to see some sights on the way, so we'll park somewhere and walk to the restaurant.”

  “Oh, okay,” Sophie replied, hoping her voice sounded nonchalant, despite her anxiousness to flee. “I'm going to go change my shoes.”

  With a quick wave, she turned and hastily made her way back to her room, thanking her quick thinking for removing her from what she knew would become a dramatic conversation between her sister and father. Making another impulsive decision, she strode past the stairway that would have led her to her room, continuing on instead to a set of wide doors. The wood felt brittle under her hands as she pushed them open, unveiling a huge ballroom. Inside were the same high ceilings as the lobby, but a second story balcony invaded half the room. It looked down upon the ballroom and out the floor to ceiling windows lining the outdoor wall.

  Her footsteps reverberated through the emptiness as she walked to one of the tall, narrow windows. She wanted to discover what part of the castle she was in and thought maybe the view outside would give her a clue. What she saw, however, made her uneasy.

  The forest trees were cut back, creating a wide semi-circle just outside the doors. In the center of the grassed area was a tall statue, looming almost as high as the surrounding forest. The stone chipped and cracked, bleached and faded from the elements. The face of a man looked down upon her, and a long robe appeared to billow from his neck. One hand was raised high overhead. The powerful gesture reminded Sophie of royalty. She was too far, and the window too obscured, to see details in his face, but something about his size and stance made her uncomfortable. The minutes passed quickly as she wondered in silence, until a soft shuffle behind her made her jump. She turned quickly, seeing an elderly man standing near the far wall. His hands were folded behind his back as he stared into a painting, his face turned away from her. She thought maybe he hadn’t noticed her standing there.

  Slowly, he turned in her direction, his eyes widening into huge circles as their gazes met. She could not help but give him a small smile, though she knew her face must have looked more quizzical than friendly. They stood for a few moments, staring at one another, before Sophie finally spoke.

  “You startled me,” she said quietly, hoping her voice sounded confident. It was not like her to strike up conversation with strangers.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice deeper than she had expected. His eyes now looked upon her with polite confusion. She thought he might be a butler, from the look of his old-fashioned tuxedo and tails.

  “No,” she stammered. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't be wandering.”

  “You should,” spoke the man, bowing slightly, keeping his eyes locked on her face. “If it is what you wish to do.”

  His accent was much less pronounced than the man in the entrance, but she caught a hint of it as he spoke. He watched her as she moved to leave.

  “Perhaps, when you return, you might continue wandering.”

  With a nod, Sophie thanked the man and hurried back through the old wooden doors and down the hall. He watched her go, a mask of solemnity on his face. As she rounded the corner, he looked to the balcony above him, and gave a tiny nod.

  Chapter 3

  The drive into town took only a few minutes but to Sophie, squished in the backseat with her aunt and sister, it felt like an eternity. As they drove, Katie gushed about the wedding while Carol sat backwards in the front seat, joining in with her daughter's excited babble.

  Sophie, crushed against the driver's side door, watched the trees rush past with her chin pressed into her hand. Katie and Carol's perfume was already making her head pound. They pulled around the final corner on the narrow gravel road, passing the church and its wide courtyard. When the crunch of loose rocks ceased and smooth pavement wound ahead of them, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Let's park here and walk,” Carol's voice rang as they passed a vacant gas station, “I need fresh air, and we could all use a little exercise.”

  With a smug smile, she turned to look at her sister-in-law. Sophie's insides tightened at the underlying insult in her mother's words, but Aunt Marilyn only smiled in response.

  Pulling into the furthest end of the small lot, Tim pulled to a stop and they all spilled out. Sophie sucked in a deep breath as her feet hit the ground, the fresh air filtering the intoxication of perfume from her lungs.

  The main road stretched out on either side of them, winding its way through the town and out of sight. Cars passed quietly beside them, the bright afternoon sun reflecting from their windows. Sophie could still see the tall steeple of the church as it stretched skywards, but the peaked treetops blocked the rest from view. She was taken with the old-fashioned shops and clustered cottages lining either side of the main street. The quaint homes with their ivy-shrouded stone walls and staggered rooftops amused her and she wondered how old they were.

  An elderly couple passed by, glancing in her direction and making brief eye contact. Sophie smiled, a knee jerk reaction, and was surprised when the man’s eyes widened in shock. He seized his wife’s arm, pulling her forward. She stumbled beside him, but did not protest. He continued to pull her away, glancing only once over his shoulder at Sophie, until they were past the barrier of tall hedges lining the adjacent yard.

  “Odd,” Sophie muttered under her breath, unable to decide what she had done to startle them. “Did you see-” she started to ask, turning to Aunt Marilyn, but stopped when she noticed she was alone. She felt a shock of embarrassment, feeling foolish at having been standing by herself without knowing it. She thought maybe that was why the couple had acted so strange.

  A few steps forward allowed her to see past the line of hedges and there she saw them strolling leisurely, half a block from where she stood, seemingly unaware that a member of their group was missing. A small voice in the back of her head whispered something about being dispensable. Ignoring the depressing, albeit familiar, thought, she half-ran to catch up and sidled up to Aunt Marilyn.

  “Whatever you want, Katie,” Tim was saying. “Let's just decide, here. What's it going to be?”

  “It's not that simple,” Katie whined, clapping her hands together with a loud snap.

  She kept silent as they walked, catching bits of the conversation between her father and sister. It did not sound as though Katie was getting her way, and Sophie was surprised by her father's adamant refusal to pay for whatever it was she was demanding. It wasn't until they stopped before a large cottage turned restaurant that she finally spoke, and only in an attempt to soften her sister's sour look.

  “You made such a great choice, Kate. This town is perfect for your wedding.”

  “I suppose,” Katie answered with a sniff. She brushed her long hair away from her shoulders. “I just wish the people here weren't so snobby.”

  “That's my daughter,” laughed Carol, running a thin hand down Katie's hair. “Always wants the best of everything. You get that from your mother, sweetie.”

  Sophie ignored the comment, frustrated by her family’s unforgiving judgment of others, and resigned herself to follow silently as they entered the restaurant. Upon being seated, however, their waiter did nothing but validate her sister’s opinion. His cold behavior remained constant throughout their meal and Sophie noticed that, on more than one occasion, he cringed at the possibility of an accidental brush of hands. While handing Katie her large bowl of spinach salad, he clutched only a tiny portion of porcelain, keeping his fingers a safe distance from her sister's perfectly manicured nails. Once they had all been served, he did not retu
rn.

  After some time, they were full and quiet, and only then did he approach the table with a worn, leather folder. He did not smile, and ignored Tim's outstretched hand, placing the folder on the table with a snap. Watching him walk away, Sophie noticed several heads turned in her direction. Making eye contact with a middle-aged woman, she gave a weak smile and was not surprised when the woman hastily turned her head away, holding up one hand to shield her eyes.

  Tim threw a few foreign currency bills into the folder.

  “This one is on me, ladies,” he said with a smile. “But next time, it's your treat.”

  The others laughed and Sophie forced a smile, knowing her father was not entirely joking.

  She had cleared out much of her savings in order to attend her sister's wedding, despite her reservations. Had it been entirely up to her, she may have skipped the trip altogether. Her parents had been adamant she attend, but made no mention of assistance, and she had been too proud to ask. Sophie had learned early on to expect no more than the basic necessities from her parents, despite their wealth, and as she grew she began to sense an inequality in their treatment of her compared to her sister.

  Uncle Gus had driven the thought from her mind.

  You are stronger because of it, she heard his familiar words in her memory.

  As she thought back to her job at the small, used-book store that Uncle Gus had found for her, she fought back a deep sadness. He had wanted her to save up, go to college, and she had managed to accumulate a generous amount before having to spend so much on the trip. Regret nagged her at the thought.

  She forced it from her mind, feeling utterly selfish, and shook her head. It was her sister's wedding, after all, and well worth the money. She had no right to feel entitled to anything, and she knew it.