The curse of Kalaan by Unknown Page A

astonished.
    “There is a person on the isle who can help me.”
    “Who?” Salam inquired, his interest piqued.
    “The guardian of the standing stones,” Kalaan replied as he took the ship’s helm in hand.
    “That old madman?” Lil’ Louis’ eyes widened in surprise.
    “He is not as mad as you think. Now that I know magic exists as well as curses, the guardian is exactly the person to come to my assistance.”
    “ Ya ,” Lil’ Louis agreed. “We know an abundance of legends and incredible tales. Yer right, let’s go home.”
    Kalaan set sail for the straits of Gibraltar, and began to tell the tale of what happened to him and Jean-François in the strange edifice, and the story of the harpies from hell. His heart was beating with joy for soon he would see the wild coast of his Brittany He missed the wind beaten scenery and the seas of his homeland. There he would find a remedy. He was absolutely convinced.
    Unless he lost his mind before they reached destination!
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 6
    The storm
     
     
    Isle of Croz, northern Brittany coast — night of January 10th 1829
    “ C ome mother, we cannot sleep and there is little else to do; perhaps it is time to open Kal’s letter.” Isabelle of Croz, Kalaan’s younger sister, sounded annoyed.
    “Isabelle,” sighed Amélie, the dowager countess. “I do not have the heart.”
    “Come mother! Your son is a good for nothing self-centered man, who arrives in Paris one day laying down his law, turning the household topsy-turvy and leaves the following day. We had no news for months. Don’t you agree? But of course we love him in spite of his behavior.”
    “That will be enough, Isabelle! Please hold your tongue. There’s no reason to put our family’s problems on display before our guest!”
    “Come mother, you exaggerate! Virginie is not just a guest. She is a sister to me and like a second daughter to you, right Ginny?”
    Ginny nodded, barely hiding a yawn. Her fatigue brought tears to her eyes, which she managed to brush away discreetly. She sat up straight in the Empire style mahogany wing chair where she had been sitting for the past hour. Amélie was on her right, facing the fireplace sitting on a banquette. Isabelle was seated across from Virginie in the other wing chair. The ladies were only separated by a small low table. Virginie was the only one who seemed uncomfortable. Isabelle and her mother continued to gently squabble, while Virginie gripped the arms of her chair to keep herself from slipping, once again. She was beginning to get cramps in her arms and hands.
    Why on earth did I accept to borrow this silk dressing gown! She scolded herself . The delicate fabric was uncomfortable and did not protect her from drafts. If only she could lie across the chair with her legs over the arms, or at least be rid of the cursed gown! She managed to restrain herself, for she was not at home in Paris, and above all, she was not alone.
    The young woman left Paris three months ago after giving in to Isabelle who implored her to spend winter with them on the Isle of Croz. She did have her own reasons for leaving Paris, but she could not tell anyone, not even Isabelle, for she was fleeing from a man.
    When they arrived on the isle, things were not very easy. It was mainly Kalaan’s domain, while Amélie and Isabelle had spent the last two years living in Paris. Croz Castle had been sorely neglected, as well as all the out buildings. Everything needed to be cleaned from top to bottom and put back into working condition as well as possible, with only the women of the nearby village to help. There was a prevailing smell of mold in all the rooms due to lack of heat and ventilation; the rooms had been closed off for so long. The roof, in a sorry state of disrepair, had many leaks. Carpenters and workmen were called in the renovation was well under way. However it was always cold in the old 16 th