“Violet,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “We need to get you inside. Please just trust me and we can talk once you get changed.”
I looked over my shoulder at the pavement stained with my blood, then turned back to him. I nodded in submission and he slid his hand down my arm to my elbow. He never loosened his grip as he led me back to the house.
As we walked up the path I thought I heard him mumbling something. I was about to ask what he was saying when he suddenly turned to the left, leading us around the side of the house and away from the still in-progress reception.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking over my shoulder toward the front of the house.
He didn’t answer. Instead he stopped and reached into the thick, ivy-covered ground and opened a door, revealing several stone steps. He nudged me through the door, down the stairs and the door slammed shut behind us. He followed behind me with his hand on my lower back, guiding the way. I could feel the warmth of his hand and tried not to focus on the way his touch made me anxious with anticipation. As I walked through the hall I felt like I had walked back in time.
The corridor in front of me looked like it was a hundred years old. Plain, dark sconces spaced about ten feet apart on the walls lit the way. The corridor was about five feet wide and a foot or two taller than me. The floor was concrete and the walls were made of some sort of crude-looking stone. Our footsteps echoed against the walls and my heavy breathing filled my ears as we continued briskly through the passageway.
“Where are we?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I swallowed back the dread my surroundings conjured.
“This corridor leads to the basement and up into the house,” Robert answered.
“Why do you need an underground corridor to get in and out of the house?” I frowned. First I’m miraculously healed and now I’m in an underground tunnel that’s probably hundreds of years old. What was going on?
“Well we can’t have you traipsing around a wedding with the bloody mess you are.” He shook his head at my disheveled appearance.
We rounded the corner and after about ten feet reached stone steps leading up to a door. We walked up the steps and through the door into a dark basement. The room was huge, from what I could see of it. There wasn’t much light in there compared to the corridor we’d just come from. The floor still looked concrete but the walls were no longer made of the crude stones that lined the corridor. The pillars holding up the house were massive and must have been at least ten, maybe fifteen feet tall.
Robert led me toward the stairs against the wall in front of us. As we walked by one of the pillars I let my hand graze its smooth, wooden surface. We walked up the stairs and through another door leading into the back of the house. I could hear the music of the reception again and it brought me back to reality. It still surprised me how beautifully the house was furnished and how light and open everything seemed, despite the dark color palette running through the house. Everything was very modern looking and it was obvious the Maxwell’s spared no expense.
“I still can’t get over how beautiful everything is,” I said, looking around the house.
“It’s over the top,” Robert noted as he rushed me up the main staircase.
“Your house really is amazing.”
“It’s not my house.”
“That’s right, you don’t live here normally. Why is that?”
He sighed. “Can we just get you changed before we play twenty questions?”
“Fine.”
At the top of the staircase we turned to the right and he led me down the hall toward the bridal suite. The floor was carpeted up here, unlike downstairs. Family pictures hung all along the walls but one photo caught my eye. It was a black and white of a young boy standing on a cliff and looking out over the water. The setting sun made the water glisten, giving the picture a sort of magical quality. I paused at the picture for just a moment before Robert guided me down the hall and through a door on the left side.
“I was eight in that picture,” he whispered into my ear, noticing my interest.
I blushed slightly at the feel of his breath on my neck and opened my mouth to answer him, when I noticed there was someone else in the room, someone I recognized from the bridal party.
“What happened?” she asked, not looking at me. The tone of her voice was calm but her bright blue eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at Robert.
He moved from behind me toward her and they walked over to the window at the far end of the room.
“I had to save her,” he said under his breath.
“You used your powers on her?” she asked with an ambivalent tone.
“Brett, she’s The Waker.”
“It’s her? You’re sure?” Her expression suddenly changed from annoyance to curiosity as she shot me a quick glance.
Their voices became almost inaudible whispers as they tried to conceal their conversation. I moved closer as quietly as possible, trying not to draw any attention to myself.
“Think about it, the prophecy said her name would be Violet and look at her necklace.”
Brett looked in my direction, “her bloodline,” she gasped.
“You think it’s a coincidence she got involved with our family?” Robert gave his sister a meaningful look.
“You know I don’t believe in coincidences. But we have to be sure before we move forward with this,” Brett replied.
“It’s her. I could feel it when I saved her, she’s the one.”
I was trying so hard to hear what they were saying that I didn’t pay attention to where I was walking and bumped into the armoire. The dull thump of my body running into solid wood drew their attention back to me.
Brett uttered something to Robert in a language I didn’t understand and then walked toward me. “Let me get you something to wear so you can get out of those clothes,” she said, motioning with her hand for me to follow. Robert didn’t move from the window and kept his gaze on the floor.
“Robert, why don’t you leave us be, so that she can change?” Brett suggested.
“Right, I’ll go talk to the rest of the family and make sure we don’t have any other visitors,” he said, walking across the room and carefully keeping his eyes averted from me.
“Please be discreet. There is a wedding going on downstairs,” she called after him as Robert closed the door behind him.
“I’m Brett by the way,” she said, extending her hand.
“I remember from earlier,” I replied, forcing a smile. “I’m, Violet.” Brett stiffened and an odd sort of intensity rolled off of her as I introduced myself. “I’m sorry about the inconvenience.” I rubbed my hands against my shoulders, self-conscious now that Robert was gone.
“It’s no inconvenience at all,” she said and walked me over to the closet.
Brett was absolutely beautiful. She had long, flowing hair that was the same dark brown as her brother’s. She wore the red silk dress that all the bridesmaids wore. The dress accentuated her slender curves and smooth, tan skin. I think she was about my height but she looked much taller in her black pumps.
I felt like a woodland creature standing next to her. My hair had been in a tight ponytail earlier but now it was falling out, throwing stands in unnatural directions. Plus it was matted with blood where my head hit the trunk. My shirt was torn to pieces and my clothes were soaked through with blood that was rapidly drying an ugly brown.
“I think this should do,” she said, handing me a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt.