Escort For The Witch: The Mystery of Psyche's Ruby

“Jack! I don’t know what I’ll do to myself if Derek doesn’t show up!” whispered my wife-to-be, gripping my hand tightly. “Promise me that if he disappears on us, you’ll find him for me, so I can kill him!”

Well, I tell her he would?! Why does this girl never listen to me?

“You know, darling, even if he doesn’t show up—which, by the way, I’ve warned you about more than once—there’s nothing to worry about! What do you even need Derek for? We’re in the fashion capital of the world, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you think there are enough dresses to choose from here? I’m certain we can find one so stunning that Derek himself would drop dead – pun intended – at the sight of it. And that he’s quite good at.” I finished my impromptu rant under Sabrina’s scorching glare.

“Are you saying my dress, and what I want to look like on my wedding day, doesn’t really matter?” she hissed, not taking her eyes off me.

“Oh, did I imply that? No, my dear. That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying I can’t wait till this damn circus is over!” I snapped, not holding back anymore. I freed my hand from hers abruptly and rummaged around in my pockets for a cigarette. “Come on, did you really pack all my cigarettes in our checked luggage?” I exclaimed angrily, finding my pockets empty.

“I hate you so much right now, Jack. You have no idea!” Sabrina hissed furiously, heaved a sigh, and headed toward the exit, where cars sent by the Order were awaiting us.

“Yeah, things are spiralling out of control,” stated Brenda, who always showed up at the ‘right moment’ to rub it in. I glared at her and silently trotted to the exit.

The entire ride to the De Manshand castle, Sabrina and I played the quiet game. I stared blankly out the window, struck from time to time with pangs of remorse. We were lucky—France greeted us with beautiful sunny weather.

“They say September is going to be unusually warm this year,” Brenda broke the silence. “The weather forecast for your wedding day is also looking good.”

I heard Sabrina heave a sigh in reply to Brenda’s comment. I didn’t turn my head either and kept staring out the window. Brenda was right. The weather was glorious. Rays of golden sunshine were making its way through the red, yellow, and, in places, still green trees, dancing on the brown grass, scorched by the summer heat. Nature was valiantly sharing its beauty with us, but this mesmerizing sight only deepened the sorrow in my heart. What am I doing? What’s happening to me?

“Nearly there!” Brenda said cheerfully, apparently still keen to lighten up everyone’s mood.

I stole a glance at Sabrina, who was still silent and oblivious to everything around her. I looked out the window again and was stunned to see a line of parked cars stretching from that point all the way to the castle gates.

“Holy crap,” I muttered, swallowing a lump in my throat. The gates stood wide open, letting our car drive through to the inner courtyard. I clambered out of the car and looked around. Where did all these people come from? Who are they?

“Eric!” Sabrina’s cry made me turn around quickly. She rushed toward the castle steps and literally threw herself into the arms of a young man in dark sunglasses. The man gave her a tight hug and laughed.

“God, Sabi, sis! I’ve missed you so much! You look stunning! Absolutely stunning!” Eric was beaming, his wide grin revealing a pair of the habitual sharp fangs. “How are the happy bride and her hopeless groom doing?”

“We’re fine. But right now, I hate him,” Sabrina declared, shooting me an icy look. “He’s driving me crazy!” She turned back around, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed her brother on the cheek. “I’ve missed you too,” she added, then let go of him and disappeared through the imposing, medieval castle door.

“Same old, same old, huh? What is it this time?” Eric the-now-vampire asked, clearly amused. “Good to see you, by the way.”

“Likewise,” I replied, clapping Eric on the shoulder. Finally, I was reunited with my best friend, my partner in crime, my rock, who I knew wouldn’t lecture me or preach proper etiquette. The friend I’ve been missing so this past year. “What the hell are you doing out in the sunshine? You can barely see anything during the day.”

“Because I’d rather be out in the sun than inside, with Derek running around like a headless chicken, trying to make everything ‘perfect’. Can’t take this anymore!” Eric grumbled.

“Derek’s here?”

“You bet! And he’s been driving us all nuts for days now. And it’s not just him… So, what’s up with you two?” he deflected, sitting down on the wide marble slab at the bottom of the steps running up to the castle doors.

“Eric, is that… a ponytail?” I asked, eyeing my friend’s new hairstyle in disbelief.

“Renee thinks it suits me,” the vampire smirked and rummaged around in his hoodie pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “Old habits die hard, right?”

“Weird to see a vampire smoke. But then again, Derek managed to get plastered, so I guess nothing surprises me anymore,” I said, sitting down next to Eric.

“At least I won’t die of lung cancer,” Eric chuckled, handing me a cigarette. “So, what happened? Second-guessing the whole getting married thing amidst all the chaos, and she realised that?” Eric persisted, glancing at a party of newly arrived guests making their way in – people that we were seeing for the first and, likely, last time in our lives.

“How do I put this? You know your sister hates it when I voice my dissatisfaction, also known as opinion.”

“That’s her signature stance. But sometimes, brother, you’ve got to put her in her place.”

I smirked, remembering how Eric used to tease Sabrina back when he was still human and living in New Orleans. Ah, those were fun times!

“You’ve spoiled her,” Eric concluded, taking a drag on his cigarette.

“Oh my God, Jackie! I’m so happy to see you!” boomed someone on my left. I jumped up in surprise and turned my head, but no one was there. “What a wonderful occasion!

Your wedding! I can hardly believe it! Are you excited?”

Now the voice came from my right. What the hell was going on?

“Endlessly,” I replied to the invisible speaker. “Though I’d love to know who I’m talking to.”

“It’s me, Stella, a relative of Sabrina’s,” the voice chimed in cheerfully from somewhere above me. “I lived in the twenties of the last century, but that’s not important! Just look at how many people have come! And it’s only noon!”

For a moment, the air around me sort of rippled and shimmered, and I could make out the faint silhouette of a woman in a simple, flowing beaded dress.

“So much to do! See you later, boys!” the phantom made a kissing sound and vanished, leaving behind only a light breeze.

“For a ghost, she’s way too lively,” Eric muttered. “Let’s head inside, buddy! And smile! The day after tomorrow, you’ll be married! And to whom? My own sister!

Never thought I’d live to see the day!” Eric clapped me on the shoulder and let out a raucous laugh. I forced a crooked smile and trudged after him.

We entered the main hall with the grand fireplace, also known as the “Crimson Room.”

Inside, there was complete aesthetic chaos. Everywhere you looked, there were huge vases with hydrangeas and roses in pastel pink and beige. The flowers were everywhere: on the floor, as if growing out of the soft pile crimson carpet; on the massive antique table; and even on the tall chairs. The sweet fragrance filled the entire room, mingling with the scent of old wood and history. To the left, on a small, gilded bench upholstered in crimson satin, were sitting the ghosts of Alex and Vivienne, my grandfather and the first witch of the De Manshand clann. The ghosts were whispering to each other and exchanging furtive glances.

“Did I not make myself clear enough zat we still need peonies and lots of greenery?

The keyword is lots, Derek! And I also requested carnations for ze ballroom. And what did you bring? Roses and hydrangeas!” came a high-pitched female voice with a subtle French accent. I couldn’t see the speakers, as they were in the adjacent hallway, but judging by the woman’s tone, we arrived just in time for the start of a heated argument.

“And I think roses and light blue hydrangeas will look far more dramatic when reflected in the tall mirrors. Carnations don’t belong here at all! But if you insist, we can add some deeper shades,” retorted the familiar, irritated voice of our prodigal designer.

“Derek! Don’t push me!” the woman snapped back resolutely, stepping into the drawing room. Before us stood a petite young woman with chestnut hair styled in an intricate updo. Her skin was pale, and her deep brown eyes, framed by thick lashes, were sending sparks flying in every direction. She ran a slender hand through her hair and tilted her head slightly in resignation.

“Alright, we’ll figure something out,” she mused, before finally noticing Eric and me.

“Mr. Cornell! Finally! I was starting to think Eric was keeping you away from us on purpose,” the stranger chirped, flashing a friendly smile that revealed a pair of sharp, perfectly shaped pearl-white fangs.

I was genuinely surprised by the turn of events. Never before had I met such a charming-looking vampire. And, judging by her demeanor, even she seemed annoyed with Derek today, meaning I needed to make quite an impression on this delightful lady—and fast.

“My name is Angelica Timmons,” my new acquaintance introduced herself, extending her hand in greeting.

“You must be Felix’s wife?”

“Exactement,” Angelica replied in her native tongue, smiling still. “Jack, I understand that most men don’t care about festive decor. Trust me when I say it… centuries may change, but men never do. And yet… What do you think?”

“I back your choice fully! Carnations should look perfect here,” I assured her and paused, involuntarily recalling the events that took place in this very ballroom only last year.

Eric tugged at my sleeve and gestured for me to look at the door, through which appeared the familiar head, adorned with dishevelled hair to which a multi-colored shoelace was attached.

“Carnations are so last century,” Derek grumbled, stepping into full view.

“Your suit is last century!” Angelica retorted teasingly. “What flea market even sells zis stuff anymore?”

“I bought it in the early forties, in Glasgow, Scotland. But that’s not the point. Cornell, are you for real about the carnations? Weren’t you the one telling us you couldn’t care less about wedding preparations and wedding theme?”

He was right, of course. Awkward. I scratched the back of my head and looked Derek straight in the eye, nodding silently.

“You disappointed me, Cornell,” Derek said pompously. “And by the way, roses are known for their vibration-raising and space-cleansing frequency.”

“For what?”

“Roses can purify the energetic field, also known as aura. You know – that invisible thing around them that all living humans have? Except you, buddy. You live shrouded in thick nicotine fog.”

“Well, then keep your nose out of my fog, go sniff some flowers, cleanse your chakras, and leave me alone!” I snapped.

Derek shot me an angry glance but didn’t argue further.

“I’ll go ask Sabrina if she liked the dress,” he changed the subject, casting another pitiful look at the hydrangeas that Angélique started removing from the vases to make space for carnations. With a theatrical roll of his eyes, he left the hall.

“Poor guy. He’s having a tough time,” Vivienne murmured with a gentle smile.

“Believe me, sometimes you just have to tell him to stop. Otherwise, trying to do everything at once, he’ll either accomplish nothing or create complete chaos… You should have seen what he had got himself into in the early seventies of the last century,” Angelica giggled, carefully tying a ribbon around a flower bouquet.

I tried to match the festive atmosphere, beaming smiles left and right and shaking hands with constantly arriving guests whom I’d never seen before in my life. Everyone rushed to congratulate me on this marvellous, life-changing occasion, inevitably asking where my better half was hiding. Each time I would just shrug innocently and blame her absence on the hectic last-minute preparations. Though, in truth, I had no idea where my beloved had disappeared to.

Lost in gloomy thought, I wandered through the long corridors of the old castle, mentally rehearsing the upcoming conversation with my bride.The longer I tried to focus, the heavier my heart felt. I didn’t know how long I had spent wandering around, but it seemed like eternity. Suddenly, I came across a tall oak door with a heraldic lily carved into it. I grabbed the gilded door handle and found the door unlocked. A moment later, I was in a spacious, dimly lit library. Wooden shelves laden with antique books were faintly illuminated by the twilight streaming through the tall French windows.

I stepped out into the garden, passed a small decorative fountain and sat down on an ornate cast iron bench, hidden from view by the thick branches of an old pine tree. I lit a cigarette. Memories of my first visit to the castle flooded my weary mind.

Last year when we left Eric here and flew back home to New Orleans, I was genuinely hoping to never return to this cursed place. And yet, despite all the promises I’d given myself, I ended up caving in to Sabrina’s and my parents’ relentless pleas to have the wedding here. What the hell was I thinking?

“Hi, Jack,” a soft voice came from the direction of the library. I turned to face Angelica. She smiled gently, stepping into the garden. “Escaping the chaos?” she sank gracefully on the bench next to me.

“Honestly, I’d been tired of all this long before we even got here,” I muttered, resting my head in my hands.

“This isn’t what you wanted, is it? It’s written all over your face. And Eric’s not too thrilled either, although he’s crazy keen to find out what the cake tastes like.”

“You know, Angelica, I just wanted us to get married. At home, by the Mississippi. No crowd, no pomp and fuss. Neither me nor Eric can remember any one of these ‘guests’, because we never met them before! And – surprise, surprise – my parents seem to know everyone,” I sighed heavily and looked at my companion, who seemed lost in deep thought.

“You really don’t know anyone?”

“My bosses don’t count.”

“Over a hundred people,” Angelica said thoughtfully.

“What?” I could not believe my ears. “Good Lord, where did they all come from? Did Derek hire film extras to make everything look exactly how he had envisioned it?”

“And that’s not counting the ghosts of the long-deceased relatives who simply couldn’t stay away.”

“Holy hell,” I mumbled, dropping my head back into my hands. Yeah, I’m going to need a miracle to get through the next two days.

“Seems like I really hurt Sabrina this time.”

“Then maybe you should apologize?” Angelica smiled.

“Simple as that?”

“Trust me, I know,” the vampiress nodded, standing up from the bench. “In our three hundred and four years of marriage, Felix and I have been through so much that you mortals would be needing a live-in mental health specialist.”

“Three hundred and four years?”

“Yes. Quite a lot, isn’t it?”

“How do you do it?”

“Jack, are you doubting your choice?” Angelica asked suddenly, her gaze riveting me to the spot. I froze for a moment, the painful memories of last year resurfacing once more.

“No, not at all,” I replied firmly.

“Then you should apologize and leave the past behind. The day after tomorrow is a big day. You shouldn’t start a new life with a heavy heart.”

“You’re right. I’ll talk to her right away.”

“Just think carefully what you’re going to say. It’s more important now than ever,”

Angélique whispered, then smiled warmly and disappeared into the shadows of the shaggy pines.

After a moment’s hesitation, I walked around the fountain and onto a narrow path that wound its way between the fluffy fir trees. Soon, I emerged onto a big lawn that housed elegant, ornate gazebos, adorned with white chiffon and fresh flower garlands. At the farther end of the lawn, away from a small stage, my father was sitting on a white limewash Chiavari chair. He was chatting animatedly with a woman I didn’t recognize and laughing loudly. Trying not to draw their attention, I quickly turned around and headed toward the castle’s main entrance. I had barely made a few steps when I nearly ran into the pensive Felix Timmons who suddenly appeared in front of me. He seemed oblivious to my presence, his eyes riveted on an old envelope with a dark wax seal that he was holding.

“Good evening, Felix,” I greeted my new acquaintance. “Did you just arrive? I haven’t seen you today.”

“Hello, Jack,” the vampire replied, raising his tired eyes to meet mine. “I was in Paris for an auction. Look what I bought,” he handed me a time-worn wax sealed envelope, and on the seal were peculiar lines, barely visible now, that looked to me like sun rays.

“It’s a royal seal,” Felix declared proudly. “Dating back to King Louis XIV’s court at Versailles.”

“So what’s so special about it?” I asked, out of politeness rather than interest.

“Look closer,” Felix said softly, his long, claw-like finger pointing at the perfectly preserved seal. I lifted the envelop to eye level and squinted at it in the dim light of a nearby lantern. I could now see the faint outlines of a smiling face styled as the sun sitting inside a rose.

“Wow! That’s the emblem of our Order!” Now it was me turning the strange envelope over in my hands and staring at it, puzzled. There was no address written on it – just a single word – or to be more precise, – a name.

“Why, Felix, curiosity won’t kill you!” I exclaimed, noticing that the envelope hadn’t been opened. “Don’t you want to know anything about this Armand guy?”

“You’re mistaken, my friend,” the vampire replied, pointing at the seal yet again. I followed his finger carefully and this time I noticed a small crack running through the center of the seal. Someone already broke it once to read the letter and then tried to stick the seal parts back together with glue.

“So, what’s it all about?” I asked, assuming it was Felix who had done it.

“No idea,” was his reply. “What interests me more is how the Order comes into all this, and what ties it could have had with the King or his court.”

“Well, that’s something to spice up your immortal existence. A bit of mystery to solve, huh? Now I’m curious too. Will you tell me when you find out?”

Felix ignored my question and pulled a gold ribbon-tied black velvet pouch from his pocket.

“You know, Jack, I’d be very grateful if you could deliver this letter and this ring to Monsieur Armel Dumourier. He’s arriving in Île-de-France tomorrow morning.” The vampire untied the pouch and produced an old-looking gold ring with a massive ruby in the center. “Just look at this symbol of power and grandeur! A totally unique piece of jewellery. A genuine masterpiece.”

“I’ll bet it was stolen from some cardinal…” I muttered under my breath.

“What?” Felix looked hesitant, clearly second-guessing his choice of trusted courier for the delivery of such a valuable item.

“Sorry, it’s just this ring evokes certain associations. You know, the ruby reminds me of a French cardinal’s hat… and I just can’t help but imagine one, with an arrogant, perpetually dissatisfied face, and his hand adorned with a ring like this one, stroking an equally dissatisfied cat while waiting to be bribed…”

I noticed Felix become slightly worried and suspicious at my rant.

“I mean, of course, I’ll deliver it,” I hastened to reassure him. “However… You’re the curator of the ancient letters department. Shouldn’t you be handling such ‘correspondence’ yourself? And who is this Dumourier anyway?”

“You see, Jack, the reign of Louis XIV is a rather controversial and ambiguous period in French history. The letter itself isn’t that important. But if my hunch about this ring is correct, we might make another groundbreaking discovery.”

“I don’t mean to sound like a bore, but, coming back to my question – why can’t you deliver this to him yourself? And… who is he, really?”

“He’s one of the leading experts on French history and has been studying the legend of the mysterious ruby Psyche for many years.”

“What does this ruby look like then?” I asked, examining the ring again. “Do you think this could be it? I remember reading something about it, but honestly, I can’t remember the details now.”

“Ah, Jack, I so wish I could answer all your questions. But alas, it’s beyond my power.

All I can say is: for as long as I can remember, the hunt for Psyche has been ongoing.

Why? That is the question, my friend! Perhaps, Armel knows and might shed some light on this mystery for us.”

“And you?”

“I won’t be at your wedding, as I must leave for Rome immediately. The matter can’t wait. In fact, I came here to deliver the envelope and the ring to Armel myself, but as it turns out, his flight has been rescheduled for next morning. Angelica is busy with wedding preparations, and keeping Derek’s creative juices in check, so I didn’t dare approach her with this. So, Jack, I want to apologize for not being able to attend such an important day for you and Sabrina. Nevertheless, please accept my best wishes. And once again, I ask for your forgiveness.”

“No problem. You can count on me,”

The vampire nodded to me curtly and turned to go, but hardly made a few steps before stopping suddenly.

“And, Jack,” he added, “make sure the ring doesn’t end up in Brenda’s hands.”

I smirked. Everyone knew Brenda was a trouble magnet. She couldn’t leave the house without falling into some sort of adventure, mostly unpleasant. I turned around and rushed back to the castle. Ahead of me lay a conversation with my future wife, who has been more distant today than ever, and not even trying her usual tricks of ‘accidentally’ running into to start an argument. Usually, she would try to appear extremely hurt over my actions and make me go crazy with guilt. I have learnt now to keep my cool and ignore her antics. But in the end, I always cave in to her mind games and start apologizing, causing yet more tears and complaints that I don’t love her and like to drive her to hysterics. She would eventually accept my pleas and promises to do better in future and would be all hugs and smiles again – for a few peaceful days. Today, however, we seemed to have set a new record in not talking to each other. I haven’t even glimpsed her once since this morning, when she told Eric I was annoying her. But, as Angélique rightly said, I needed to pull myself together and leave all grievances behind.

I had to talk to Sabrina.

I put the letter and the ring into my jeans pocket, gathered what little willpower I had left, climbed the massive staircase, and set off in search of my bride.

“You’re not lost, handsome, are you?” a playful voice came from somewhere on my right. I turned around, but no one was there. “Definitely lost,” the same voice now sounded in front of me.

The air shimmered and sort of rippled, and there appeared in front of me a slender silhouette of Stella in her vintage, embroidered, beaded beige dress. The phantom was lounging on a small sofa, its legs elegantly crossed, a glass of Martini in the ghostly hand, as transparent and shimmering as the phantom itself. I shot Stella a sideways glance and walked on, not thinking it the best time to socialise.

“Ah, how I loved parties,” Stella sang thoughtfully, suddenly appearing beside me.

“Where are you off to? Maybe you’ll keep me company?”

“I’m looking for Sabrina,” I replied quietly, trying to make it clear I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, let alone drinks.

“Oh, Jackie, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you! You’ll survive one night without her,” Stella drawled, taking another ‘sip’ from her transparent glass.

“What was that?” I asked, not getting her point.

“She’s talking about the old tradition of not seeing the bride before the ceremony,”

Alex’s ghost interjected, suddenly materializing before us.

“Oh! Mr. Venters! Punctual as ever! I’m already on my last legs!” Stella giggled and dissolved into the air like a wisp of smoke.

“Can you imagine how much idle noise that lady made in her lifetime?” Old Venters grinned at me warmly. “You could use some sleep, Jack. The day after tomorrow is a big day, and you look terrible.”