Immanuel's Veins by Ted Dekker Page B

Russians? Toma and me? The priests? Or those hyenas in the Castle Castile?”
    â€œThe last. They’ve been here only a short time. No one seems to know much about them.”
    Natasha gazed out the window, to the west. “If Father Petrov knew, he’d be up to burn the witches already. He turns a blind eye to Mother’s doings only under threat of reappointment.”
    Toma returned and joined them for a lovely dinner, just the five of them, with Mother at the head, Alek and Toma on one side, and the twins on the other. They’d laughed at Natasha’s jokes about the boar’s head, which Kesia had put on salt and set at the far end.
    â€œThere he is, the dead pig who seduces the dead.”
    Why it was so funny, Lucine wasn’t sure, but they could not stop after that.
    It felt good to have Toma back. He’d learned nothing at the church, he said. The man he’d met with was a stuffed turkey. This coming from Toma was also hilarious. It was a perfect evening that would have led to a perfect night if Alek hadn’t been such a man.
    He burst into her room an hour after she’d retired. “Lucine! She’s gone! We have to find her!”
    Lucine bolted up, fully awake in body but still dead in her mind. “What?”
    â€œNatasha!” He rushed to the side of her bed. “Have you seen her? I’ve looked everywhere. Her bed is tossed and the doors to her balcony are open.”
    â€œWhat?” Lucine threw her covers off and ran from the room, up the hall, into Natasha’s bedroom.
    The sheets were on the floor with the bed cover. And the doors leading out to the balcony were open to the wind, which lifted the billowing curtains.
    â€œShe’s gone!”
    â€œYou weren’t here?”
    â€œNo. I left her two hours ago.”
    â€œThen how did you discover that she was gone?”
    â€œI couldn’t sleep. What does it matter?” He paced, frantic. “Heaven help us, if she’s gone up there . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    He placed his hand on his forehead. “She said it. She said she would go, but she was drunk and we were laughing and I thought she was only toying.”
    â€œUp where?”
    â€œTo the Castle Castile. To that cursed ball!”
    Lucine was too shocked to reply. By herself? At night?
    â€œWe have to tell Toma!”
    â€œNo! This isn’t his mess. I’ll go.”
    â€œWe don’t know for sure that she’s gone!”
    â€œI’ll find out. The stables, the tracks—I’ll know. And I’ll take care of this.” He brushed past her, now intent on his course. “We’ll tell Toma in the morning.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œIf I’m not back by then, tell him to come for us.”
    And then he was off, leaving Lucine standing in Natasha’s bedroom with a parted mouth and a hammering heart.
    She paced and eventually returned to her room, and then, hearing nothing but the wind and her own turning under the sheets, managed to find some sleep.
    Lucine woke with the sun in her eyes, late again, for the second day in a row. She pushed herself up and was halfway out of bed before she remembered the night’s fear.
    â€œNatasha!” She tore from her room, nightgown flying behind her.
    Natasha’s room was empty. The bed was as she remembered it, unmade and sheet on the floor. Her sister hadn’t returned!
    â€œNatasha!” She flew out into the living room and pulled up sharply.
    They were all there, Natasha, Alek, Mother, and Toma. Lucine rushed to Natasha, who sat smiling with pale lips, hair a nest for spiders, and eyes dark for lack of sleep.
    â€œThank God you’ve returned!” She hugged her sister. “What happened?”
    Natasha offered a short chuckle and shrugged.
    Lucine turned to Alek. “Well?”
    â€œShe went. All the way up there, if you can believe it.”
    â€œAnd?” Mother asked.
    â€œAs I told