The guard grabbed the young man’s shoulder, spinning him back around. “Do not take the Countess’s wishes so cavalierly, Horsemaster. She does not endure informality.”
“And I do not endure brutality!” said Janos, shaking free of Guard Kovach’s grasp. “What the devil did she mean sending me that horsewhip?”
Guard Kovach started to answer and then clamped his mouth shut, looking over his shoulder. He saw the stable boys’ eyes grow large with fear as they listened.
“Go bathe, Szilvasi. You stink of horse piss,” said the guard. He turned and walked out of the pool of light cast by the lanterns into the dark of the cobbled courtyard. “You have yet to grasp the ways of Čachtice Castle.”
Chapter 7
ASPEN, COLORADO
NOVEMBER 28, 2010
It’s a few weeks late for Halloween,” Jane said, looking up from her Vogue magazine. She threw a contemptuous look at Daisy’s shredded crepe dress and white Goth makeup.
“Ha, ha,” Daisy said. “That kills, Mother. You should be on Comedy Central.”
“You’ll scare the neighbors,” snapped Jane. “And they’ll think I’m a bad mother, letting my daughter traipse around in a torn dress in a howling blizzard.”
“Screw the neighbors,” Daisy said, fastening the buckles of her boots. “You think too much about other people’s opinions, Mother.”
“And maybe you should think more about what people think. Just a little.”
“Why? Besides I’m not going to walk around this neighborhood anyway. What’s to see but big stupid mansions and greedy men with wives younger than their own daughters. They are disgusting.”
Jane glowered at her daughter.
“What?” Daisy said.
“You know, Daisy, you have gotten awfully bitchy lately,” she said. “I might just call your father to let him know what a pain in the ass you are.”
Daisy’s breath caught, and she coughed.
“Are you all right?” said Jane, anger vanishing from her face. “You shouldn’t be going out—”
Daisy threw on the long black wool coat she had bought at the thrift shop.
“Where are you going?” Jane asked, her hand on her hip.
“Wherever I want.”
Daisy slammed the door, making the snow slide off the porch roof.
She drove the BMW down Red Mountain, sliding around the first corner and nearly crashing into the guardrail. The car stalled and when she got it started again, she crept down the hill in first gear.
She parked at a pull-out at the bottom of Red Mountain Road along the Roaring Fork River. She set off along the river on the Rio Grande trail, earbuds wedged tight in her ears. She smiled, listening to a Doors’ song, over and over again.
People are strange when you’re a stranger…
It was snowing hard, as if it were January. Snow gathered thick on every branch, shaking loose the last yellow leaves from the aspens. She trudged down the snowy path, looking at the river. There was ice along the shore but then the water broke out, running fast and dark between the snow-blanketed rocks.
The snow was falling heavily now, coating her eyelashes, blinding her, despite her hood. Jim Morrison and the Doors were blasting through the earphones.
Faces come out of the rain
When you’re strange…
Oof!
She hadn’t heard him racing down the path. She sprawled on the ground, cursing in the snow. Her legs were tangled up with a sweaty, cross-country skier who had slammed into her.
T.N.T. oi oi oi!
T.N.T. oi oi oi!
His earphones dangled from his neck, blasting out AC/DC.
I’m Dy-na-mite!
“Oh, shit! Are you OK? I didn’t expect anyone,” he said.
“Couldn’t you see me?”
“It’s a freakin’ blizzard. You were in the middle of the trail.”
“What an idiot!”
“Are you hurt?”
“Get off me!”
The crash had knocked the wool hat off the skier’s curly blond hair.
Daisy recognized him from school. He was a snowboarder. One of those extreme guys who competes in the X-Games, she thought. I had to go to pep rallies for him. There was nothing a Goth despised more than a pep rally.
He crawled off and pulled her up, despite the fact he was still on his skis.
“God damn it!” she said. “Now I’ve lost my earbuds.”
Daisy could still hear his music blasting from his earphones, a final insult. Hard rock. Booming.
“Here they are,” he said, digging them up out the snow. He gave her a crooked smile. “Wow, you are sassy, Goth girl.”
“Go to hell, asshole!”
He wrinkled his nose, laughing at her.
“What’s so funny?”
“Enough with the drama, OK? Jeez.”