Deceptive Appearances

Something shook me by my shoulder. The air was freezing cold and cut through my lungs, while my body was wrapped in heavy blankets that robbed me of movement.

When I fell asleep, it was still summer, I thought idly. Midsummer even. The day was already unbearably hot, and even a brief evening rain shower was not going to cool me down. I had opened the window wide and was lying on my bed in my shorts, there was no other way to sleep. Now it was suddenly cold. My buttocks and back ached from an uncomfortable wooden bench that I must have sat on a long time ago.

“Domnule,” a deep male voice spoke. “Wake up, Domnule Dian. We have arrived.”

I opened my eyes and looked around. It was night. The full moon was high in the sky and illuminated a bleak, mountainous, snow-covered landscape. I was sitting in a horse-drawn carriage, wrapped in thick furs that were already shimmering bright white from the frost. The horse in front of the carriage was steaming in the cold as it cooled down from what had obviously been a long trot.

The coachman got down from his coachman’s seat. He was wearing a thick fur coat to protect him from the cold. His fur cap was pulled low over his head and was as white as his full beard. Only his eyes, tanned by nature, were still visible.

Our carriage was parked next to an old, large house. The first floor was made of rough rubble stone, with another floor of dark wood and an attic on top. The shutters were closed, but the warm light of a fireplace blazed through a few cracks. A muffled babble of voices emanated from the interior.

A wolf howled in the distance. The echo of the mountains made its song sound even lonelier.

“Domnule, please wake Doamnă Miray,” the man urged. “You can warm up in the inn.”

On the seat opposite of me, I saw another bundle of animal skins, under which a person seemed to be lying. I shook it carefully.

“What’s going on?” mumbled a sleepy voice.

“A new adventure, Miray. Come in, it’s far too cold out here.”

Dazed, she rubbed her eyes and sluggishly began to peel herself out of the furs. I got out and walked around the carriage to help her out.

“Will you carry me in?” she mumbled, sounding like she was about to doze off again.

I laughed. “What do you have two feet for?”

She looked down at herself, as if she had only just noticed her legs, and rocked them back and forth a little. Then she looked at me. “Oh, it’s you, Dian.”

“You really did sleep deeply, didn’t you?”

She nodded slowly, stood up, took my hand and got out. The man had picked up our suitcases in the meantime and went ahead. We followed him into the inn.

“Florica!” the man shouted loudly. “Florica, come here!”

He took off his thick fur hat and stroked his thinning hair.

“You have the two guest rooms under the roof,” he explained, “the one on the left for the Domnule and the one on the right for the Doamnă. I’ll take your luggage upstairs.”

The door to the taproom opened and a young woman stepped out. She was wearing a light-colored blouse with the sleeves rolled up slightly, and over that an apron in a subtle shade of brown, which, in addition to embroidered floral patterns, also had a few stains. Her oval face showed traces of a busy life, yet she was attractive. She had long auburn hair that she had tied back in a plait, with a few cheeky curls falling onto her face.

She looked attentively at the man who had called her.

“Take care of our new guests, Florica,” he ordered. “They are freezing, give them something to drink and a good hot meal.”

She nodded and glanced at Miray, who was still standing next to the door, drowsy. When she noticed me, she smiled shyly and blushed for a moment. She unconsciously adjusted her apron and hastily tidied her hair.

“Yes, Alexandru!” she replied curtly, without taking her eyes off me. Then she led us into the taproom and took us to a free table near a large stove, in which a strong and warming fire was blazing.

At first, I was impressed by the hospitable welcome we were given. But when I took a closer look, the façade crumbled. The other guests in the taproom gave us a suspicious look, started whispering or fell silent altogether.

Florica didn’t appear to be troubled by any of this. After we had taken our seats, she disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with two mugs and two steaming bowls. She had put on a fresh apron and re-tied her braid. The sleeves now reached to her wrists, but the top two buttons of her blouse had undone themselves.

“This hot Ciorbă de Burtă will do you good,” she said and served us a steaming, milky yellow broth that smelled aromatic. “In this cold weather, there’s nothing like a hearty soup with fresh tripe, is there?”

She leaned over the table as she placed my mug in front of me and looked me shyly in the eye. “The warm mead will quickly drive the frost out of your limbs. There are still Sarmale that I will warm up for you right away.”

She continued to stare at me wordlessly. Then she quickly looked to the side and went back to the counter.

Miray grinned broadly. “It looks like you’ve made quite an impression on her.”

“You certainly don’t often see strangers here,” I said sheepishly and shrugged my shoulders. I took a deep sip of the mead and looked at the starter. I had never tasted tripe soup before. It tasted creamy, intensely garlicky and slightly spicy. And I could actually feel a pleasant warmth spreading from my stomach through my whole body.

Miray also ate a few spoonfuls of the soup. Then she began to search her pockets, but they were empty.

“Do you have any clue why we’re here?” she asked me.

I patted down my clothes and found an object in the inside pocket of my vest. It was a letter, written on thick, old-fashioned handmade paper. The sender had folded it carefully and sealed it with a thick red wax seal, which was now broken. Dog-ears and stains revealed that the document had suffered from the long journey.

I waved the message happily. Then I unfolded it and quietly read the contents to Miray.

To Doamnă Miray and Domnule Dian,

Your reputation as capable investigators extends far beyond the borders of this country and has also reached my ears. There are certain circumstances, the nature of which I will not detail here, but which make it imperative that I invite you to my humble estate, the venerable castle of Castelul Întunecat.

Your help is of the utmost urgency, for some truths can only be brought to light with the mind. I am firmly convinced that you alone are up to the task of dealing with this matter with an unclouded mind and the necessary discretion.

I entreat you to accept this invitation without delay and make the arduous journey to me. Do not be misled by the rumors that may circulate in the village. Appearances are often deceptive, and the truth lies beyond what the eye can see. You will soon understand why you are so urgently needed.

In anticipation of your imminent arrival,

Count Bezos

I gave Miray the letter. She skimmed it and turned it over in her hands once, as if she was expecting more text on the back. Then she handed it back to me. “It won’t get us much further,” she said. “Let’s pay the Count a visit tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll find out what our task is there.”

Florica came to our table and served us several cabbage rolls and a corn porridge on the side, which was so yellow that it seemed to glow. She wished us a good appetite and added, looking at me: “I think Sarmale taste even more handsome when warmed up.” She paused. “Uh, delicious. They taste even more delicious when warmed up.”

Miray cleared her throat. “Florica, would it be possible for the innkeeper to take us on the carriage to an appointment tomorrow?”

“Alexandru? I suppose that’s possible, Doamnă,” Florica replied, “but Stânca Întunecată is a small village. You can reach everything you need on foot.”

“How far is it to the Castelul Întunecat?”

A log cracked loudly in the stove, causing the flames to flare up. Florica’s shadow deepened for a moment and danced ghostly on the wall. Her rosy color completely vanished from her face. Startled, she stared at Miray.

“To the Dark Castle? By the Almighty, what do you want there?”

“We have an invitation from the Count,” I explained, holding up the letter.

She backed away as if the paper would burn her. Then she looked at me in horror and tried desperately to keep her composure.

“No one in their right mind would take you anywhere near the castle,” she murmured at last. “And you shouldn’t go there yourself! Just burn the letter! Alexandru will drive you back to town tomorrow.”

Miray shook her head. “I’m afraid we can’t refuse the Count’s invitation.”

She was right. The task that awaited us in this place was obvious. We would not be able to wake up until we had paid the Count the desired visit and listened to his request.

Florica nodded silently and went to the bar. She leaned towards the innkeeper and whispered something to him. He froze. A beer mug slipped out of his hand and smashed on the floor. He cursed quietly. Then he looked at our table, adjusted his vest and came towards us with determined steps.

“So you want to go to the Castelul Întunecat?” he asked impatiently, his words like thunder. He was startled by the power of his voice and looked around furtively. Almost whispering, he continued, “You must be crazy. But all right, so be it. I’ll take you to the foot of the mountain tomorrow, but you’ll have to make your own way up to the castle. It is treacherous, especially in winter, and who knows what you will encounter on your march there. God be with you.”

With these words, he turned around and returned to the bar.

“Well, this promises to be an exciting adventure,” Miray murmured and looked after him.

Time passed and the taproom gradually emptied. When we had warmed up and finished our generous portions, Florica came and brought three cups to the table.

“This is a hot spiced wine,” she explained, “prepared by the innkeeper’s wife, Alina, according to an old family recipe. One last drink, wonderful for a good night’s sleep. It’s on me.”

With a wry smile, she put the glasses down, sat down next to us and clinked glasses with us. Then she pointed to the empty plates and bowls. “Did you like the Sarmale, Domnule Dian?”

“They were delicious,” I replied. “Did you prepare them?”

She laughed briefly and shook her head. “No, that was Alina, too. She can’t walk very well anymore, so she’s not much help in the taproom, but she’s an excellent cook.”

“You’re a fantastic waitress for that! You didn’t seem to mind that it was so busy.”

Her eyes lit up as if a fire had just been lit inside her. “It’s nice that you noticed!” she replied sheepishly. “I’m trying really hard to make you feel at home here.”

I nodded. “It’s clear that not only the culinary well-being of your guests is important to you.”

“Especially the male ones,” Miray grumbled quietly.

Florica sipped her wine, but her eyes kept on me. Then she leaned over towards me and sighed softly. “I have rarely met someone like you! So attentive and gentle.” Absent-mindedly, she turned her cup around on the table. “I like that. I like it very much!”

Miray cleared her throat. “Dian, we still have to prepare for the visit to the Count before we…”

“Oh yes, your trip to the castle!” Florica interrupted her. “Are you still determined to pay a visit to the Count? It would be such a shame for you if something happened to you!” She clasped my hand, gently at first, then dug her fingernails into my skin. Her voice purred like a cat on my lap. “Just leave tomorrow. And tonight you will spend a nice night at the inn… With me.”

Miray placed her hands on the table and slowly leaned on them. “It looks like I’m superfluous here,” she said with a forced smile. “A good night to you both. Have fun with your new girlfriend, Dian.”

She stood up and left the taproom with purposeful steps. But the controlled, almost tense casualness with which she moved betrayed her true feelings.

Florica stared at me in horror. “I’m sorry, Domnule Dian,” she said in a hoarse voice and lowered her gaze. “I didn’t know that you and the Doamnă…”

I looked after Miray as she closed the door behind her without looking back.

“What, Miray?” I asked in disbelief. “Do you really think so?”

Florica sighed softly. “If you are wise, Domnule, then you had better follow her before it is too late.”

I realized that Florica was right. When I stood up and looked at her, her eyes were distant, empty, as if she had just woken up from a beautiful dream. “Now go!” she finally said, turning me out with her hands.

The wood-burning stove in the taproom provided a cozy warmth, but it also consumed the oxygen, leaving a stuffy, stale atmosphere. When I reached the hallway, I took a deep breath of the freezing, fresh air. Then I slowly went up the steep wooden staircase, thinking about how I would best start the conversation.

When I reached her room, I still had no plan. I took a chance and knocked tentatively. “Miray?” I asked quietly. “Can we talk?”

Nothing moved. Had she not gone to her room at all, but left the house? She was undoubtedly able to take good care of herself, but it was dark and freezing outside. And then there were the wolves, whose eerie howling could be heard in the distance.

I was getting worried about her and wanted to hurry down the stairs to look for her when the door opened a crack and Miray looked at me.

“What do you want?” she asked quietly.

“Let me in, please.”

She opened the door and ushered me into her room with an overly inviting gesture. There she looked at me impatiently.

“What was that all about?” I asked her cautiously.

“Nothing, why?” She shrugged her shoulders innocently, but her tension was clearly noticeable. “Go back down to Florica! She’ll have all the time for you when the inn closes. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Surprised, I stared at Miray. I could hardly believe that Florica’s assumption was correct.

“Tell me, could it be that you’re jealous?” I asked freely. “I can put your mind at rest, Miray. Florica is nice, but she’s not the woman of my dreams. That’s you!”

“Me?” she exclaimed in amazement. “You only know me from your dreams! What do you know about the real Miray?”

“I can’t imagine she’s that different from the dream Miray standing in front of me right now.”

She looked at me without saying a word. Her eyes jumped nervously back and forth until a tear ran down her face. I sighed deeply and embraced her. She hesitated for a moment before she too wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly.

“This is not fair,” she murmured quietly.

I brushed a strand out of her face. “What’s not fair, Miray?”

She swallowed. “Oh, never mind!”

Reluctantly, she let go of me and looked at me sheepishly. Then a broad grin crept across her face before she threw me over onto her bed and jumped onto my lap. Her eyes sparkled as she took off her knitted sweater and then started to unbutton the buttons on my vest. I slipped my hands under the linen shirt she was wearing and felt the warm, soft skin of her waist against my fingers.

Suddenly she stopped, horrified. “Tell me, what are we doing here?”

“Would you like me to explain it to you?” I asked sarcastically.

She gave me a nudge on my shoulder. “That’s not what I mean, dumbass!”

Then she got out of bed and stood next to me.

“I mean, how are we supposed to go on? In the worst kind of long-distance relationship, where we can’t even decide when we see each other? Can we even be sure that this isn’t our last dream together?”

“Isn’t that why we should make the most of the time we have together?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No! I mustn’t… I won’t fall in love with you. Not under these circumstances!”

I nodded sympathetically, wiped my face with my hand and stood up. “So tomorrow, bright and early?”

She nodded back in relief. “Tomorrow, bright and early, Dian!”

When I was back in the cold hallway, I could hear the sounds from the taproom below. The murmur of conversations, the clatter of plates and glasses, a loud laugh – perhaps Florica’s? I could just go back down the stairs and go through the door. My place by the stove would surely still be free. But I knew I wouldn’t find what I was really looking for there. Besides, I had lost my appetite for the evening.

I retired to my room, which was right across the hall. It was a little smaller than Miray’s and also only furnished with a bed, a wardrobe and a washbowl. A thick comforter lay spread out on the bed, under which I snuggled up before turning off the light.

The moon shone coldly through a small gable window. In the distance, the hoarse barking of a lone fox could be heard. I turned on my side and thought of the Count, who had invited us so politely to his home and asked us not to pay attention to the gossip in the village. Then there were Florica and Alexandru, who warned us so urgently not to visit the castle. Who was right? What would await us tomorrow?

At some point I fell asleep. I dreamt of Miray. She was sitting far away on the crumbling wall of a castle ruin, waving to me in panic. “Help me, Dian,” she called in a ghostly voice, “help me, I don’t have two feet!” She demonstratively raised her legs, which ended in goat hooves. I tried to rush to her side, but a dense, thorny thicket of dead undergrowth blocked my way. Behind Miray’s shoulder, a claw-like hand with long fingers suddenly appeared. I tried to scream and warn her, but my voice failed me.

After that, I sat at a table in the castle that seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions into the dark depths of the walls. The Count, an old, pale, gaunt man with thin gray hair, was sitting across from me. He nodded at me kindly and raised his glass, which was filled with blood-red wine. Then he smiled and bared his set of fangs.

The sound of footsteps startled me. I opened the door to my room and looked out into the hallway, but there was no one there. The inn was closed by now and all its residents had retired for the night. There was deathly silence in the house.

“It’s going to be a long night,” I sighed and crawled back into bed. There I dozed half asleep until it got light outside.

I freshened up at the washbowl with the ice-cold water and went into the dining room. Miray was already sitting at the table, warming her hands on a cup of fragrant herbal tea. Embarrassed, I sat down next to her. I felt guilty and didn’t even know why.

She looked at me briefly and said, “You look like you’ve had a busy night.”

“Not what you think. I had nightmares.”

Miray smirked briefly. “So much for Florica’s wonderful bedtime drink!”

She blew the steam from her cup and took a sip.

“Did you hear footsteps in the night too?” I asked.

She shook her head. “You should eat a bite. Alexandru is already hitching the carriage, we’re leaving for the castle in a few minutes.”

Florica came out of the kitchen with another cup of tea. When she saw me, she stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and walked slowly to our table. She put the cup down in front of me with a blank expression and held the handle for a while, as if she could delay our departure.

“Do you really have to go to the castle?” she asked me in a trembling voice.

“I’m afraid we have no other choice, Florica.”

Her mouth opened and prepared to say something. But she knew there were no words that would change our decision. Suddenly she turned around and ran back into the kitchen.

Shortly after, Alexandru entered the room. “Domnule Dian, Doamnă Miray, we should leave now.”

I hastily took a deep gulp from my mug and grabbed a thick slice of bread before we threw on our coats and left the inn.

A blanket of clouds had settled over the village overnight, making the dreary snow landscape appear even more desolate in the dim light of day. The mountains and hills surrounded us like a cauldron. In the distance, at the top of a high rock and surrounded by dense forest, the castle rose up, a dark colossus of stone.

The vehicle that had brought us here during the night was parked in front of the house. Only now did I notice the large runners on which it rested. It was a sleigh! The horse that was harnessed to it snorted and pranced restlessly on the spot.

Alexandru swung himself wearily onto the coachman’s seat, reached into his pocket and pulled out a braid of garlic. He threw it onto the seat next to him and shook his head. “You’ve got yourself into a mess, prostule!” he grumbled to himself.

After we had taken our seats in the back, Alexandru crossed himself. Then he spurred the horse on with a short command and the sledge set off with a jerk.

We glided silently through the snow. We passed a few houses and a small church before leaving the village and driving along a road that only Alexandru seemed to recognize under the thick blanket of snow. After a while, we passed an old barn, after which the castle lay alone in the distance in front of us.

After we had gone a long way from the village, the horse suddenly shied and stopped abruptly. “From here, you have to go on alone. Can you see the path back there?” Alexandru pointed into the distance to a small opening between two conspicuously large spruce trees at the edge of a forest. “That will lead you to the castle.”

“When are you coming to pick us up?” Miray asked after we got out of the car.

“Pick you up?” Alexandru shouted, laughing disparagingly. “Doamnă Miray, it was bold enough to bring you here. Only a fool would tempt fate a second time.”

“Then how do we get back to the village?”

“Well, you just need to follow that creek, it flows that way. Provided you can make it away from the castle.”

He pulled his cap over his ears, nodded goodbye to us once more, then spurred his horse on and drove off.

Miray put her hands on her hips and watched the sled disappear. “Maybe we should have discussed this better before we left,” she remarked dryly.

Stunned, I stared at her. “How can you stay so calm?” I exclaimed in horror. “We’re stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, in the snow and cold, without food! What are we supposed to do now?”

“Now?” Miray pointed to the castle at the top of the hill, whose battlements stood out like shadows from the treetops. “Now we pay the Count a visit.”

The path led us into a forest. After a few meters, it took a sharp turn and then began to wind steeply upwards. The dense trees swallowed up the already sparse daylight, but they also held back some of the snow, so that the path was relatively easy to see and walk on.

When we had already gained a little height, the forest cleared for a moment and revealed a view of the snow-covered valley. The village lay at a respectful distance from the castle. You could clearly make out the barn in front of it, the church tower and a few houses with smoking chimneys. From this perspective, you could also make out the creek that led away from the mountain and past the barn into the village.

We stopped to take a break and get our bearings. Even Miray, who was more athletic than me, had to catch her breath.

“Tell me, Dian,” she asked abruptly, “do you really exist? Or are you just a figment of my imagination?”

I looked at her in surprise. “I could ask you the same thing,” I replied indignantly. How could she doubt my existence?

“Of course you are convinced that you exist, just as I am with myself. But how can we be sure about each other?”

“That’s easy to find out. You give me your phone number and when we wake up from this dream, I’ll call you. Then we’ll know.”

Startled by our conversation, a crow flew away with a loud protest, making us jump in fright.

Miray paused for a moment, then waved her hand. “Oh, it’s not really important. Let’s move on!”

After half an hour’s walk, the gradient finally eased. The path led us around a slope. The first loose fragments of a former wall appeared, indicating that we were approaching the castle. We reached a plateau. Shortly after, we left the forest and entered a clearing.

The Dark Castle now lay directly in front of us. It was a huge structure that must have been a fortress of enormous proportions in its heyday. However, a large part of it lay in ruins. The thick wall that once protected it had been destroyed. All that was left of many parts of the building was the substructure, from which decayed and charred wooden beams protruded like the broken teeth of a dragon.

Only one house was still intact. It was a stone building with several floors and a high tower on the side, the battlements of which we had seen at the foot of the mountain. The smoking chimney on the roof revealed that our host must be at home.

We reached the portal, a huge, heavy oak door. Hanging from its wings were door knockers, large rings of wrought iron held by massive wolf heads.

“Are you ready?” Miray asked me. I nodded. She was just about to reach for the door knocker when the gate opened with a loud creak and groan. An old, gaunt man with a bony skull looked at us with his sunken, lifeless eyes.

“Count Bezos?” I asked cautiously. “You had invited us to your place.”

He just growled and waved us in.

We stepped into a once magnificent entrance hall, which now looked dark and very neglected. A gray runner stretched through the cross vault up to a large staircase. There was dust everywhere and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like cloths. A musty smell crept through the room with the draft.

The staircase led us up the icy cold stone steps and ended in front of a heavy wooden door with wrought iron fittings. Behind it was the knight’s hall. On the left, a fire blazed in a huge fireplace. Hunting trophies hung on the walls – strangely shaped antlers, oversized boar heads and the head of a wolf, whose gaze stared almost reproachfully in my direction. Below them were paintings from a gallery of ancestors whose canvases, blackened by time, only allowed the eyes of the people portrayed to shine through. Through the narrow but tall windows on the opposite side, the dull daylight was reluctant to enter.

The center of the hall was dominated by a long table made of almost black oak wood, surrounded by chairs with high backrests carved with wolves’ heads. The figure gestured quietly for us to take a seat. Without a word, he slipped out and closed the door behind him.

“The Count doesn’t seem to be very talkative,” I grumbled as I sank into one of the heavy, uncomfortable chairs. “How are we supposed to get him to tell us what our task is?”

Impatiently, I drummed my fingers on the gnarled wood of the old table. My gaze wandered to Miray, who was walking slowly through the hall. She stopped in front of one of the paintings and looked at it as if there was actually something to see.

The door opened and a lean, balding, middle-aged man walked in. His suit would have looked almost regal if a few hungry moths hadn’t already attacked the fabric. The last time he had worn this fine piece seemed to be decades ago.

He gallantly greeted my companion with a kiss on the hand. “Doamnă Miray, Domnule Dian, I, Count Bezos, welcome you to my humble castle. I am honored that you accepted my invitation and were able to arrange a visit. I hope my servant Egor has not frightened you. We rarely expect visitors here.”

He moved Miray’s chair closer, then took a seat opposite us, cleared his throat and began to explain the reason for his invitation.

“I do not wish to take up your precious time unnecessarily, Doamnă Miray, Domnule Dian. But there is an urgent matter that has prompted me to summon you here. The Bezos family has lived in this castle for generations. And for just as long, the slightest whisper of misfortune has turned the suspicious eyes of the villagers towards us. Be it a bad harvest, a violent storm, even a lunar eclipse was once enough to drive them outside the gates with torches. There is no room for reason in these valleys when fear and superstition reign.”

“And now it’s that time again?” asked Miray.

The Count nodded thoughtfully. “I have learned that a certain Mariana, the blacksmith’s daughter, has disappeared in the village without a trace. I fear that the villagers will once again conjure up their old superstitions and turn their wrath against me. Should they storm these walls again, I will not have the means to rebuild the castle a further time.”

He looked at us with a pleading expression, and I suddenly felt sorry for him.

“I assure you that I am innocent, just as my ancestors always were. That is why I implore you for your help. Prove my innocence and find the girl! You are the only ones who will act with a cool head and an open mind.”

Miray nodded in understanding. “But how can we be sure that the Mariana we’re looking for isn’t hidden here in the castle?”

For a moment, the Count frowned and his eyes narrowed into slits, before he regained his composure. “As much as I am offended by your question, Doamnă Miray, I understand that you have to ask it. You see for yourself the deplorable state of these once-proud walls. There is just enough space for my loyal servant and me. In winter, provisions are already scarce for the two of us, let alone for another resident. And what would I do with a young, possibly even lively woman? I appreciate the peace and solitude of these walls.”

Miray thought for a moment, then nodded. We rose and she thanked the Count. “I think we should return to the village and begin the search.”

She had barely uttered the sentence when the door opened and Egor entered. Without a word, he led us down the stairs and through the vault back to the portal. When we emerged from the darkness, we were blinded by the daylight. It was only after a few steps that I noticed it had started snowing.

We crossed the clearing and looked back at the castle one last time.

“You know,” I said quietly, “I would have expected anything, but not this friendly welcome and a Count who almost served us tea and cookies.”

Miray nodded. “The Count wrote that appearances are often deceptive.”

We entered the forest and began our descent into the valley. It was quiet, that special, cotton-wool-like silence that one only perceives when snow is falling. The calm allowed my thoughts to wander. How ironic, I thought, at the castle that everyone feared so much, we were given a friendlier reception than in the village to which we were now to return.

When we reached the valley and stepped out of the forest, the snow had increased. We returned to the spot where Alexandru had dropped us off. The tracks of his sledge were only faint indentations in the fresh white, and it wouldn’t be long before they had disappeared completely. If we followed them, we would get hopelessly lost in this wilderness.

So we set off in search of the creek and made our way back from there.

The snowfall turned into a veritable storm that robbed us of our visibility. I was freezing. The cold crept under my clothes and the dampness clung to my skin.

“Just thinking that it’s summer at home…” I grumbled.

Miray nodded. Then she pointed to a box-shaped object that could be dimly seen in the distance. “That’s probably the old barn! We can shelter there and wait until the weather improves.”

We trudged through the deep snow for another half hour until we reached our shelter. The barn was a simple wooden house with a porch that had already partially collapsed. The gate was closed but not locked. Miray pushed it open a bit and we went inside.

The building appeared to have been abandoned for some time. Daylight fell through milky, cloudy windows, but also through the cracks in the rough wall construction. In one corner was a large pile of hay. Two hay carts were parked, one of which had a broken wheel. It smelled of old grass and mouse droppings. At least the roof was tight and kept the interior dry and free of snow.

“And now?” I asked Miray as we looked around. “How are we supposed to find Mariana? We don’t even know what she looks like yet.”

“We could find out who saw her last. But the villagers probably won’t tell us much, suspicious as they are.”

I nodded. “What else can we do? I mean, Mariana is hardly going to stumble across our path and wave at us.”

My foot got caught on something in the hay. I stumbled and fell into the heap. When I looked back, I saw an arm sticking out of the hay. Panicked, I called for Miray. She rushed over and immediately began to uncover the rest of the body. Then she paused.

“It seems that Mariana has just done that.”

A young woman lay in front of us. Her dead body was already frozen from the cold. She was wearing a thick fur coat and a colorful dress underneath. Miray searched her pockets and found a note, which she handed to me.

“Dearest Mariana, meet me at the barn this afternoon. R,” I read aloud. “Who is ‘R’?”

“Maybe her murderer,” Miray replied. “It certainly doesn’t look like an accident to me. Take a look here!”

She had pushed the collar of the coat to one side and pointed to Mariana’s neck. There were two holes on the carotid artery that looked like bite marks. She held her index finger next to them before examining the area thoroughly.

“I knew it!” I shouted. “The Count led us by the nose! He lured Mariana into a trap and attacked her. Then he brought us in so that we would clear his name. He probably hoped we’d never find her here.”

Miray laughed out loud. “Don’t tell me you think the Count is a vampire!”

I pointed to the wound on the victim’s neck. “Isn’t that proof enough? We should call the police immediately!”

She waved it off. “What would that look like? Two strangers arrive in the village, pay a visit to the Count, and a little later find the missing woman dead with bite marks on her neck in an abandoned barn, well hidden in a haystack.”

“But if it is the truth?”

“They wouldn’t believe us, but would think we were accomplices of the Count and lock us up. I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life here in jail, having to put up with your lovey-dovey behavior with Florica when she brings us food.”

Even if the side blow was unnecessary, I realized that Miray was right.

“And now?”

Miray thought about it. “As soon as the weather improves a bit, we’ll go to the village and tell the blacksmith that we found his daughter. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

We found some old horse blankets and put them around us. Snuggled up warmly, we sat down on one of the hay wagons and waited. The snow fell incessantly, thick flakes against a gray, impenetrable wall.

Miray was lost in thought while I played with the hem of my blanket. Suddenly, she held out her index finger to me.

“Bite it,” she said. Her tone was serious, which only made her request more peculiar.

I looked at her, confused.

“Come on! Last night you still wanted to nibble on me.”

Hesitantly, I bit her finger gently. I looked at her like a dog that had just stolen a piece of meat from a plate.

“I knew it!” she said, nodding with satisfaction.

“Knew what?” I mumbled.

She pulled her finger out of my mouth and let her arm disappear under the blanket again.

“You’re not a vampire!” she said with a laugh.

Then she looked outside again, as if nothing had happened. I stared at her, worried. Had the cold affected her so badly?

At some point, the snowfall subsided. We left the barn and could see the church tower of the village in the distance.

“It’s time,” said Miray, “let’s move on!”

On the outskirts of the village, we came across a woman struggling through the snow. In her thick fur coat and with a huge hat on her head, she looked like a bear at first. Miray stopped her and asked for the blacksmith.

“To Constantin?” she replied curtly and showed us the way with a quick wave of her hand.

A few minutes later, we reached the smithy. It was impossible to miss. The dull clanging of metal on metal guided us through the narrow streets like a beacon. We entered the courtyard and went into the workshop.

The fire in the forge heated the small room and provided a little light. A tall, strong man was standing at an anvil, working on a horseshoe that was glowing orange-red. When he saw us coming, he nodded to us. He then finished his work, held the iron briefly in the embers once more, and finally threw it into a bucket of water, where it cooled with a loud hissing sound.

He put the hammer aside and came towards us. His face was dark with soot and the heat, and his expression was marked by worry and far too little sleep.

He eyed us suspiciously. “What do you want?” he finally growled.

“You’re Constantin the blacksmith, aren’t you?” Miray asked.

The man looked around. “Do you see anyone else here who might be?”

Miray closed her eyes for a moment and tapped the tip of her nose several times with her index finger. Then she looked at Constantin.

“I’m afraid we have some bad news! We found your daughter outside in the barn. She’s dead.”

Constantin sat down on a stool, but he remained surprisingly composed. “Dead, you say? I was afraid of that. No one could survive alone in the wilderness for days at this time of year. Very well, I’ll see to it that Mariana is brought to the village.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “In the old barn! What on earth made her go to this deserted place?”

“We found this message with her.”

Miray handed the note to Constantin. He read it and murmured the individual words to himself slowly, as if he were reading it to himself. When he had finished, his face turned red with rage.

“The note must be from Radu, the innkeeper’s useless brat!” He crumpled the note in his fist and threw it at our feet. “Oh, I swear to God, if that skirt-chaser was involved with my daughter… I’ll kill him!”

“Maybe it wasn’t Radu at all,” I quickly interjected. “We found bite marks on your daughter’s neck!”

Miray kicked me in the shin and gave me a fierce look.

“I knew it!” Constantin shouted, before finally bursting into tears. “The Count! First the Almighty took my wife, and now this spawn of the devil is taking my only child!”

He slumped down completely. Miray hurriedly picked up the note, then grabbed my arm and pulled me outside.

“The reference to the bite was unnecessary, don’t you think?” she grumbled as we stood outside the door again.

“What was I supposed to do?” I protested. “He was about to run off and kill someone!”

“You’re just fanning the flames of superstition! We’re supposed to exonerate the Count. Instead, you’re putting him to the sword.”

She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

“Let’s go back to the inn,” she finally said. “At least we finally have a hot lead!”

This time we reached the inn from the back. An elderly woman was locking the door of a small outbuilding that was almost completely buried under a blanket of snow. Then she slipped the key into her pocket, grabbed a basket and, leaning on her stick, made her way back to the inn. When she noticed us, she gave us a friendly nod.

“You must be Alina,” greeted Miray.

She nodded again and said in a hoarse voice: “And you must be the strangers who wanted to see the Count. The Lord has blessed you, you have returned safely!”

“That’s how it looks,” Miray replied. “Can you tell me where we can find your son?”

“Radu?” Alina pointed to a window on the first floor. “He’s in his room. He hasn’t been well since the blacksmith’s daughter disappeared. Alexandru doesn’t think much of the blacksmith, but Mariana is a good girl. Hopefully she’ll return soon.”

Miray sighed. “I’m afraid she won’t be. We found her dead in the old barn.”

Alina dropped the basket and hastily crossed herself. “Dead, you say? It was the Count, wasn’t it?”

She gestured to the solid oak door of the outbuilding, which she had just locked.

“Just the other day he broke into our storage shed and bit into a pig’s head. And now poor Mariana! The loneliness in his castle must have finally driven him out of his mind!”

“Everyone has their own theory on that, it seems,” Miray growled and looked at me reproachfully.

We went into the house and knocked on Radu’s chamber door. A young man’s voice invited us in. The room was furnished in the same way as our guest rooms, and probably served as such on busy days. Radu sat on the bed, tired and haggard with worry, and looked at us questioningly. Miray introduced us and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Radu, we’ve found Mariana,” she began.

His face brightened for a moment and he looked at her with hope in his eyes. When she didn’t make a face, he suspected that his hope was in vain.

“She’s dead?” he asked, his voice quivering.

Miray kept her calm composure. “I’m sorry, Radu,” she said quietly, pausing as if to give him a moment to process the news. “You loved her, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “But no one must know about this, because of this old feud between my father and the blacksmith. Mariana’s mother died when she was born. Later, Mariana took care of her father. She came to the inn almost every day to get food. That’s how we got to know each other. Since she disappeared a few days ago, I’ve been worried sick. What has happened?”

“I’m afraid she was murdered.”

Radu’s eyes widened. “Murdered? Was it the Count?”

Miray dropped her shoulders for a moment before she took out the message and held it out to him. “We found this on Mariana.”

He read the note, then shook his head and looked at us in irritation.

“I don’t understand. The message is not from me!”

“My son has nothing to do with it!” Alexandru’s voice thundered behind us. He must have been overhearing us for a while. “So Mariana is dead? That’s just what that Constantin deserves! And if the Count is behind her death, it’s better that this poor soul is now at peace. But my Radu has nothing to do with it!”

“How would you know?” Miray retorted.

“On the day Mariana disappeared, Radu and I were in town to buy meat and supplies. We didn’t come back until after sunset, when there was already a lot of commotion in the village. If you don’t believe me, ask the merchant in town!”

He looked at us with fierce eyes. “And now get out! We have welcomed you kindly into our home, and you have shamelessly abused this right of hospitality by accusing my son.”

Miray stood up in front of Alexandru. Her gaze could have cut steel. She clenched her fists, ready to strike. But then she grabbed my hand. She pulled me out of the room without saying a word.

The restaurant was deserted and the stove that had provided warmth that morning was extinguished. We collapsed into the chairs at our table. Miray rested her head on her arms, closed her eyes and was lost in thought. “It seems our hot lead was a dead end,” she grumbled softly and sighed deeply.

I shook my head. “Maybe Radu was lying when he said he didn’t write the note.”

“I think he’s telling the truth. Why would he kill the woman he loves? Besides, he wasn’t even in the village the day Mariana disappeared.”

“That’s what his father says!” I protested. “Of course he wants to protect his son. And he knows we can’t get into the town to ask the merchant without his help.”

“We have to manage to check the alibi. Until then, we should be more careful and not give anything away. People are already suspicious enough.”

“Don’t you think we should look for new tracks outside?” I asked.

“The only thing we’ll get outside is a cold.” She shook her head. “No, I believe we have almost all the pieces of the puzzle. We just haven’t put them together properly yet.”

I sighed and drummed my fingers on the table. “So we’re just going to sit here?”

“Sit and think!” she corrected me.

Sitting around was perhaps in Miray’s nature, but certainly not in mine.

“Can’t we at least play cards?” I whined.

She laughed briefly. “You’d lose anyway.”

Miray leaned back, crossed her arms behind her head and stared into space. I watched her for a while, until my eyes fell shut.

“Just what I needed,” Miray murmured suddenly. Her face twisted as if she had bitten into a lemon.

I turned around and saw a broadly grinning Florica coming towards us with three jugs in her hands.

“Maybe she’s come at just the right time,” I whispered to Miray. “Trust me!”

When Florica reached our table, she put down the jugs and sat down with us.

“You’ve returned safe and sound!” she exclaimed delightedly. “So you thought better of it and didn’t pay the Count a visit?”

“Oh yes, we were at the castle,” I replied.

Florica looked at us, puzzled. “So the Count wasn’t there?”

“He even welcomed us!”

Florica grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. “I knew it! If anyone manages to return from the castle alive, it’s you. What was his request?”

“The Count simply asked us for a favor, nothing more,” I replied evasively.

Florica took my hint. “I’m too curious. Forgive me, please.”

She clinked glasses with us and we took a sip. Then Florica gave me her undivided attention again.

“I envy you,” she purred. “You must be traveling a lot and experiencing exciting things while I’m stuck here in the village.”

I smiled at Florica and looked her deep in the eyes. “Oh, Florica, it’s not that exciting. And I’m sure it’s not that boring in the village either. I heard that just the other day a young woman disappeared without a trace. I’m sure everyone was in a tizzy!”

Florica rolled her eyes dramatically and sighed. “Oh yes. That day was a real commotion. Half the village was here, gathered and discussing eagerly.”

“Of course,” I agreed and took another sip. “But I can imagine, as hard-working and skillful as you are, it was no problem for you to serve the many guests. Besides, I’m sure you had help from the innkeeper and his son.”

Florica looked sheepishly into her cup. “You won’t believe it, Domnule Dian, but they were in town that very day. I had to serve the guests all by myself!”

I nodded appreciatively. “I knew you could do it, Florica!”

At that moment, the door to the taproom opened. The innkeeper and the blacksmith entered, talking in loud, agitated voices. They were followed by Alina and Radu, and behind them a man we didn’t know. The group sat down at the large table next to ours, paying no attention to us.

“Look, we have a distinguished visitor!” Florica whispered to us. “Even the mayor has come. And Alexandru together with Constantin, without them going at each other’s throats! Something important must have happened.”

She apologized, had a quick chat with Alexandru and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Miray grabbed my hand, and I flinched involuntarily, bracing myself for a scolding. But instead of a reprimand, she gave me a satisfied smile and whispered: “You did well, Dian! Maybe even a little too well. You have Florica wrapped around your little finger using every trick in the book. You’re a real Casanova!”

I grinned proudly. “And just like that, the alibi is confirmed! So it could only have been the Count.”

Miray shook her head. “The pig is the key, I’ve been convinced of that all along. And now everything is falling into place.”

The sparkle in her eyes was all too familiar: she had cracked the case. I looked at her curiously. She thought about it for a moment and was about to explain, but then she hesitated. “Not now!” she said quietly.

Florica brought jugs to the neighboring table and served platters of cheese and smoked sausages. Then she sat down with us again.

“The missing woman was Mariana, the daughter of Constantin,” she whispered to us. “He has now found her. Dead, with a bite on her neck. Such marks… they are unholy signs! The Count will soon receive his deserved punishment!”

Miray cleared his throat and spoke loud enough for the neighboring table to hear: “That’s very interesting that the blacksmith claims to have found Mariana.”

Alexandru fell silent and looked at her angrily. Then he stood up and shouted: “Domnule Dian, Doamnă Miray, this is a matter for the village. Your presence is no longer wanted here. Go to your rooms and pack your things! I will take you to the town and the train station today.”

Miray also stood up and replied: “You forget that we are not here at your request, but at the Count’s invitation. And I am convinced that the Count is innocent.”

Alexandru laughed mockingly. “What nonsense! You are the Count’s henchmen, nothing more. But the signs are all too clear. Poor Mariana had two marks on her neck! Supernatural powers are at play here.”

Miray crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on the innkeeper. “There was almost no blood on the wounds! That means they were inflicted on Mariana after she died. What’s more, they were inflicted by hand, not by a bite.”

“Nonsense!” scolded Alexandru. “How do you know that?”

“The distance is not right! The puncture marks are two finger joints apart. I measured it myself.”

She pressed her index finger against her teeth.

“Do you see? That’s way too far apart for the canines of a human bite! Only a needle, guided by the murderer’s hand, could make these punctures.”

Stunned, I stared at Miray. Indeed, the canines were closer together. She must have noticed that in the barn. She let me bite her finger to confirm her suspicion.

“No, the Count is innocent,” she pleaded. “Poor Mariana’s murderer is here among us. And I know who it is, too.”

The innkeeper’s face turned a deep red. “Are you still accusing my son Radu? Don’t fall for this written nonsense, it’s only meant to deceive you.” He raised his fist and swung it. “Shut up, it’s none of your business!”

The mayor pulled Alexandru’s raised arm down. “No, the Doamnă should be allowed to speak. What she says is hard to dispute.” Then he turned to Miray. “Do you mean that someone from the village murdered Mariana and is trying to pin the crime on Radu?”

“It couldn’t have been Radu either. He and Alexandru were in town the day Mariana disappeared. Good Florica has just confirmed that. They’re out of the question as suspects.”

Alexandru stared at Miray, speechless. He hadn’t expected her to exonerate his son. But then who was it? Suddenly his eyes widened. In a flash he reached across the table and grabbed Constantin’s throat. “You devil! You even sacrifice your own daughter to take my Radu from me!” he roared.

Constantin pushed him away. “Are you out of your mind? I would never do that!”

“It wasn’t Constantin either!” Miray shouted. “I’ll get to that. Alina mentioned that a few days ago a pig had similar bite marks. I only now understand the connection. It means the culprit had access to the storage shed. He must belong to the inn.”

Alexandru laughed out loud. “You’re talking nonsense again! Who could it have been, my dear Alina?”

Miray shook his head. “No. Alina depends on her cane. In this snow, she would hardly have made it to the barn, let alone finish off a young and healthy woman there.”

Radu realized that Miray had ruled out every person present as a perpetrator. All but one. “You!” he gasped, jumping up and pointing at Florica with a trembling hand. “You killed my Mariana! Why? Why on earth?”

Florica burst into tears. “You whispered sweet words in my ear. Tender words. You swore your undying love for me! But then your attention waned. I saw you secretly passing notes to Mariana when she brought food for Constantin. One day I followed you to the old barn where you met in secret.”

Miray continued: “And so you made a plan to get rid of your rival. You were able to enter the storage shed without arousing suspicion. There you practiced making the bite marks on the pig’s head with a needle. When Alexandru and Radu went into town, you took the opportunity. You slipped the false message to Mariana, luring her to the barn. There you smothered her and stabbed her in the neck with the needle. You knew that everyone in the village would immediately assume that the Count had done away with her. But you made two mistakes! You forgot to get rid of the pig’s head, and you didn’t take the message back from her.”

Silence reigned. Everyone stared at Florica in horror.

Suddenly she jumped up and tried to run to the door, but the mayor reacted immediately and held her down. She collapsed in despair.

“Let them work out the rest between themselves,” Miray whispered to me. She pointed to the green circle on her wrist. “It’s time we got out of here.”

We slipped out of the bar and quietly closed the door behind us.

“What an adventure!” she said as we climbed the creaking stairs to the attic. “I’m sorry I had to convict your girlfriend, though.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I snorted quietly. “But how did you come up with Florica in the first place?”

Miray gave me a quick glance. “Actually, you gave me the idea. After you flirted with Florica to confirm the alibi, I called you a Casanova. Then I remembered that Constantin had called Radu a skirt-chaser and wondered: Could Radu have been involved with Florica before he turned his attention to Mariana? All of a sudden, all the pieces of the puzzle fell perfectly into place.”

I had to laugh briefly. The explanation was so simple that I was annoyed not to have thought of it myself. “But why did Florica flirt with me then, if she was still in love with Radu?”

Miray shrugged. “Maybe she felt rejected, and you gave her the attention she so desperately needed.”

We reached the top floor and Miray opened the door to her room. She stood frozen.

“What’s that?” she stammered, pointing to her bed. There lay a letter, written on thick handmade paper, carefully folded and sealed with a thick red wax seal.

She took the letter and turned it carefully in her hands. Then she broke the seal and read the message to me.

Doamnă Miray, Domnule Dian,

I am pleased to say that the reputation that preceded you was fully justified. You have brought the light of truth into the darkness, unmasked the true culprit and freed me from the devastating accusations that weighed so heavily upon me.

I would like to express my deepest gratitude for this service! You are always welcome as esteemed guests at my castle.

I wish you a safe and pleasant journey, wherever your common path may lead you.

Count Bezos

We stared at each other. Even Miray, who always had a sharp remark ready, stood there with her mouth hanging open for a moment.

“How can that be?” I finally asked. “We only solved the case a few minutes ago! How could the Count find out, put the letter on your bed and then disappear from here without meeting us on the stairs?”

Miray shrugged her shoulders and pointed to her wrist. “We can wake up, so let’s just leave it at that.”

She smiled, took a step towards me and threw her arms around my shoulders. Her icy blue eyes looked deep into mine.

“Tell me, Dian, did you mean it when you said I was the woman of your dreams?”

I nodded sheepishly.

“Then give me your cell phone number. I’ll call you as soon as I wake up.”

With a satisfied grin, I gave her my number. She murmured the sequence of digits softly to herself several times before finally nodding.

“Are you ready?” she asked me.

I placed my hand over my tattoo. Then I cast a brief, suggestive glance at the bed. “Last chance?”

She gave me a sly grin. “Barely has your girlfriend landed behind bars, and I’m next? You sure don’t waste time, Dian!”

Before I could say anything back, she gave me a quick wink and placed her hand on her tattoo. The endless nothingness wrapped itself around me like a black cloak and stole my consciousness.

The bang of a backfire startled me. I lay bathed in sweat in my bed in the much too warm room. I got up, went wearily to the open window and looked out at the street. An old motorbike drove off with a loudly rattling engine.

I looked at my cell phone. It was half past three and – more importantly – I hadn’t missed a call. “How am I supposed to get back to sleep?” I moaned quietly and threw myself onto my bed.

I tossed and turned restlessly on the mattress all night. But it wasn’t the heat that kept me awake. It was the worry that I would fall asleep and miss her call.

But the call never came.

I didn’t take my eyes off my cell phone all morning. Maybe she lived in a different time zone and wouldn’t wake up until a few hours later, I tried to reassure myself.

By evening, I had accepted that she would not call back. I was annoyed with myself for not asking for her number as well. That would have doubled our chances in case one of us got the number wrong. I resolved that if I had another opportunity, I would follow up.