Anna and the Castle of Death

About the Author

Some people call the ones like her a witch, others - sorcerers and magicians, but no one really knows what it means to be born with the gift to see the past and the future, the ability to change someone else's destiny according to their own desires. What is a magical gift - luck or a curse? Read about it in Lana Sinyavska’s books.

Other Books by Lana Sinyavska

Books are not just bloody horror and thrillers, but a meeting of ordinary people with mystical powers. One of the main ideas is that people’s flirting with the magic leads to the enslavement of man: at first you use magic, and then magic starts using you.

All books are published and republished many times in hardcover and paperback.

Witch Anna series:

- Anna and the Necklace of Satan (Search for an ancient enchanted treasures)

- Anna and the Black Magic (Homicide investigations at the damned place)

- Anna and the Well of virgins (Treasures Hunt in Jungles)

- Anna and the Witches of Salem

- Anna and the Moonlight web (Anna against werewolves and the Ghost of a Little laundress)

- Anna and the Shadow of Shakespeare (Anna is looking for Black Diamond and Necronomicon in England. Shakespeare and the 5th Earl of Rutland)

- Anna and the Castle of the Death (Anna struggles with an ancient Evil in Europe)

Lisa-Foxy series:

- Horror attraction (Detective story, action)

- Ghost girl in a red (Based on a true story of girls missing. Lana Sinyavska was involved in the investigation as a psychic).

Outside the series:

- Engaged to Lucifer (Search Templar treasures in an old castle in France)

- Ticket to a horror film (The shooting of the film about vampires)

- Monastery of forgotten souls (Mirror from the antique shop brings death)

- Sorcerer’s Granddaughter

- Bride from the devilish place (Murder in the house of a collector. Doll is also able to love!)

- Night scream (Editor Vic investigates the death of a famous actress. She will have to solve the puzzle or die…)

- Curse of Rotten Farm (Summer adventures of students who are looking for the Ghost’s treasures)

Lana Sinyavska

ANNA and the CASTLE of DEATH

Never gamble with the Devil – you always lose. The influential tycoon nicknamed Black Spider thought that it did not apply to him.

All Anna wanted - just to make some money. But her new job turned into a nightmare. One by one her colleagues dies a horrible mysterious death.

The owner of an ancient castle kidnaps Anna to use her gift. Who knew that this was only the beginning!

She will need all of her strength to get out of the spider's lair to save herself and her son. -But will there be enough strength? Woe to anyone who tries to fight the infernal souls, because they will kill again and again.

Copyright 2016 by Lana Sinyavska

All Rights reserved. All rights belongs to the Author.

Cover design 2016 by Vadim Advaitor

All of the characters, names, events, incidents, organizations, places appearing in the novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is possible only by accident.

CONTENTS:

Prologue

Chapter 1 ANNA

Chapter 2 SINISTER BOX

Chapter 3 THE FIRST DEATH OR HOW DANGEROUS IT IS TO READ SOMEBODY’S MINDS

Chapter 4 DEADLY RENDEZVOUS

Chapter 5 DEAD WOMAN’S STORY

Chapter 6 YELLOW-EYED DEVIL. CRACKED EMERALD

Chapter 7 MADAM OROS. INVISIBLE SLAYER

Chapter 8 BLACK MAN

Chapter 9 THE ONE WHO IS BEHIND THE GLASS

Chapter 10 FOUNDLING. NICK IS IN DANGER

Chapter 11 DEATH LIVE

Chapter 12 BLACK SPIDER’S LAIR. KIDNAPPING

Chapter 13 PORTRAIT

Chapter 14 PLAYING WITH FIRE

Chapter 15 SPIDER RELATIVES

Chapter 16 THE TOMB IN THE PARK

Chapter 17 THE MISSING GOLD. BLOOD AND ASHES

Chapter 18 ROMOLA SPEAKS

Chapter 19 HEIRESS. CHAMBER OF SECRETS

Chapter 20 BEAST IN THE DUNGEON. TERRIBLE DISCOVERY

Chapter 21 NIGHT VISITOR

Chapter 22 DISAPPEARED CASTLE

Chapter 23 MIRROR IN THE LUMBER-ROOM

Chapter 24 NOWHERE TO RUN

Chapter 25 SHOT IN THE WOODS

Chapter 26 SKULL IN THE ATTIC

Chapter 27 GUARD. 2 RINGS

Chapter 28 GHOSTS OF THE PAST

Chapter 29 GORDANA. CAPTIVE OF THE CASTLE OF DEATH

Chapter 30 13 MIRRORS. RAISED FROM HELL

Chapter 31 ANCIENT EVIL. LAST BATTLE

Chapter 32 OLD WELL. MAGIC CIRCLE

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

From the Author

About the Author

Other books by Lana Sinyavska

PROLOGUE

She felt herself to be a bird.

She wanted to sing. Or to shout at least.

Why not?

Letting the wheel go, the woman spread her arms to the sides, laughing, pumped the air into her lungs and yelled: I am free!

Free, free? the echo responded hesitatingly and she burst into laughter again.

The car veered off on the wet asphalt of the narrow highway spiral, but the woman aligned it easily and masterfully and then speeded up. She wanted to fly and the car obedient to her will was ripping along the winding road at full speed. The nightmare, she survived, was already looming far behind and looked like a dusty ghost not scary at all.

It had been raining non-stop all the last week and the clouds faded away only today. The clean washed sun was looking at her sympathetically from above.

The woman looked into the rare window as though accidentally to make sure again she was still pretty and rather young to start everything again from the beginning. Then she glanced at the passenger seat and frowned slightly, having found a clean white bundle nestling right close the backrest. Another trick of the old pretender – she thought with disgust. When did she manage to shove her treat into the car?

The woman sniffed suspiciously. Seems to be tuna sandwiches again. Gosh, they will stink the whole car out! She decisively stretched her hand to throw out the disgusting gift. She could not have a bite of her detestable cooking anyway.

The car windows were all the way down and the wind, having swept in, seized a bunch of her long hair and slapped her in the face. She recoiled in a start of surprise, lost her clutch and the white bundle fell on her knees softly. Too light for sandwiches – she noticed blindly, - nearly imponderable.

Ahead there was a dangerous part of the road as it narrowed cuddling up to the rocks and made an abrupt turn. Having her eyes glued to the wind shield and holding the wheel tightly with one hand, she tried to get rid of the bundle. Badly knotted bundle became loose when she pulled it and the whole lot spilled out just on her.

Crap! – she swore already fancying a horrible fatty spot on her favorite skirt, quickly looked down to assess the damage and squealed piercingly: on the hem there was a big clotted cob of web, with a huge hairy spider getting quickly out of it. Having got out, it started climbing up purposefully to her face.

Continuing to squeal, the woman jerkily flirted her hand with splayed fingers, trying to shake herself free from the ugly insect. One of the blows hit the target. The spider flopped over in the air, thwacked down and she immediately crushed it down with her heel. The hairy belly burst as an overripe gooseberry, having spattered her ankle with yellowish spider guts and she nearly threw up.

Trying to calm down, she kept saying: It is over, over , but her heart was pounding like crazy and her eyes were blurred with tears. All this is stupid: soon she comes to the motel, takes a room and will wash all this filth away with soap in the bath. No, not with soap, with scrub and certainly by a harsh shower puff. I wonder – do they sell harsh shower puffs in the motel?

She again tried to concentrate on the road but noise in her ears distracted her. It was a strange sound - something in between whisper and murmur. It seemed to be coming from somewhere above.

She desperately did not want to raise her head but she told to herself that she had to. In the same passive way a victim puts her head on a scaffold, exposing her naked neck to the heading axe.

A cry stuck in her throat. Her eyes shaded. Or did she imagine it because of a carpet of black, hairy moving bodies which completely covered the roof of the car? As if having felt her moving, the insects hissed threateningly and clattered, raising their front legs up.

She failed to yell when the car was thrown up into the air and kicked across the shoulder. The car managed to flip in the air twice before hitting the bottom of the rocky ravine. Strong metal crashed as foil, dashing pieces of glass colored with blood around and above.

An explosion came a second later. Fire and smoke mounted up so high that they were seen from the city, but before the city rescue cars came to the accident site, a small boy in a blue suit with a ship on the front got out of the heap of hot and crumpled metal. The kid was crying desperately, smearing dirt, tears and soot all over his face red with strain and was looking around perplexedly as if not understanding how he got here.

The wailing of sirens scared him even more. Having stopped to cry, the little boy tore off and disappeared slipping through dense brushwood of wild roses and blackberries.

CHAPTER 1

Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… On air!

- Good evening, dear audience! You are watching program The Prophet and me, Anna Bright, - a striking brunette with specific appearance, dressed in black and laden with musically jingling charms from tip to toe, habitually smiled into the camera. The expression of intellectual superiority on her face was balanced by merry sparkles in blue-green eyes resembling the river slough and by light smile. Were she not sincerely kind and generous as an idiot, there would be quite a few people hating her.

In the nearest hundred and twenty minutes Anna had to convincingly play the role of a mysterious all-seeing witch and answer endless questions from those who had insomnia in this evil hour. Hating herself for this disguise, the girl meticulously followed the script and obeyed commands of the director whose voice had already drilled a hole in her head.

- Please, introduce yourself and ask your question, - Anna said lovingly and stretched out for a pencil to write down incoherent rambling pouring from the speaker. Large green emerald mounted in old gold, which was so large that everybody thought it was imitation jewelry, flashed angrily on the middle finger. On the contrary, everything else was imitation jewelry, but only Anna knew it as well as she knew that she was a witch not only in the script.

Common people have a vague understanding of who the witches really are. Well, they have a broom, black robe, silver love beads in the form of an inverted star or a smiling skull and a peaky had - in the perfect world. Pops, in a nutshell. Well, certainly among witches there are those whose wardrobes fall apart from different occult junk, but true witches can perfectly do without it. Bygone was the time when Anna, having assiduously lolled out her tong, was diligently writing magic hierograms on the plastic handle of a bladed article, bought strictly on a certain day and hour and definitely on Waxing Gibbous, which had the honor to become a magic dagger. Now she knew that a simple kitchen knife could do the same. Moreover, it can be used to cut sausage when needed.

- Tell me, do you fly to the Sabbath? – thoughtfully asked falsetto in the phone handset obviously warmed up by something hotter than boiled milk with butter cookies. Yeah! Right! Naked dances in our climatic zone? I am not that crazy.

The miracle ointments were quite the other matter moreover as Anna was coming close to the age when creams and ointments were appropriate in the daily use. You can hardly fly from them but the morning reflection in the mirror stops causing depression.

You just ask me about demons we worship, - Anna thought tired. Well, the demons exist of course – she has seen a lot of them – but having learned those creatures closer… No, no worshipping demons. God forefend!

Of course, she did not say this loudly and masterfully pulled the wool over the curious viewer’s eyes so that not to scare him very much but to put him off from calling where he is not wanted and asking stupid things. He will have something to think about till morning as he will not be able to sleep anyway.

The program director did not approve Anna’s independent action and gave her a long lecture in her ear, but she did not care a damn. She was long ago sick from this job and she stayed there only because among bored, drunk and sex-crazed night-birds there were something people who really needed her help.

However Anna’s patience was nearly exhausted.

Barely having stayed till the end of the program – and where can you go from the live broadcast? – and having patiently listened to usual dose of compliments about high ratings, Anna managed to go home. Man can get used to anything.

It was the time of the day Anna liked most. Her home was only in five minute walk and she could afford not to hurry breathing fresh chill of empty streets with delight. And why should she hurry? Nick has been long dreaming under the safe custody of Casper and nobody else was waiting for her.

Restless predawn wind was carefully sweeping the sleeping city. Anna’s heels tramped on the pavement. A night taxi beeped far away, she could hear someone’s illegible cry. Street lights were fading in the dawn and the street looked delusory silvery like a Christmas tree toy. The proposal to move here was unexpected but timely. She was just looking for a place where she could hide from her sad knotted thoughts. She practically knew nothing about the cinema company and had rather vague ideas about this country but she gave her consent without a second thought.

The country appeared to be rather small and the cinema company big and rich but she found this out only later. Anna was still glad she did not have to regret about her sudden behavior.

The girl stopped by the entrance door and got a cigarette trying to prolong minutes of quiet solitude. It was absolutely still. From the sloping roofs over her head came scratching of small feet, sleepy fuss and velvet cooing – those were pigeons waking up.

Max… Well, yes, they parted. No, none of them was unfaithful to each other and love was still smoldering somewhere under a thick layer of ashes. It happens sometimes: it went wrong, did not knit, it burned out. That which seemed to be the only right, eternal thing, suddenly became inessential and – which was worse – boring.

Anna for the umpteenth time remembered their last conversation:

- Going away?

- Yes. It will be easier.

- Then why is it not easier for me?!

A question, which has no and cannot have an answer.

After Max returned to his jungles, Nick changed a lot. He carefully pretended that everything was all right not to disappoint his mother, but Anna did not need words to understand everything.

That was why she took him with her.

And Casper as well.

Casper was used to illegal trafficking abroad. In fact Anna did not like sending hocus-pocus to people but otherwise Casper would have to stay alone for long time and he was strongly against it. Of course, Anna’s friend guaranteed the cat a comfortable living during her absence but he had his own understanding of comfort, and Anna knew it quite well. Casper would have turned her friends’ life into hell just in retaliation for the fact that his mistress dared to think that he could do with nice food and a cozy bed to put up with her absence.

The customs lady did not even turn a hair when a pretty cat’s small skeleton appeared on the monitor. Even when the skeleton waved her its leg as Casper, who was tired of sitting in a bad, decided to scratch his ear, the lady did not move a muscle. She came to life only after the bag was in its owner’s hands and politely wished a passenger with the kid a safe trip.

- And what did she see, mom? – Nick asked interestedly, slinging his heavy hand luggage.

- Nothing, - Anna shrugged her shoulders. – She saw an EMPTY bag.

Nick giggled in sleeve.

Hiding on the bottom of the large travel bag, Casper went through long-distance flight stoically and even did not do a job. Moreover, when he fell out of the bag on the threshold of their new home crushed and rumpled, one could clearly see deep satisfaction on his whiskery face.

* * *

Turning the key carefully, Anna tip-toed into the one-room flat. In fact they had two rooms, but in Europe the sitting room was thought as normal state of things and the number of rooms was counted according to the number of bedrooms. There was one bedroom and her son was having sweet dreams in it.

Anna flipped the switch. Casper, who managed to leak into the lobby, narrowed his huge yellow eyes uncomfortably. Pulling off her shoes by the entry, Anna crept into the kitchen. Casper followed her yawning studiously, but this did not make an adequate impression on his mistress and he settled by his bowl, showing by all his appearance that very soon, practically now he will die of hunger. And he, poor thing, would stay lying frozen by the platter licked clean.

- Extorter, - reprimanded Anna in whisper, but she poured fresh food anyway. Casper immediately started crunching enthusiastically as if supporting his version of a poor starving animal.

Quite often, especially in the presence of strangers, Casper managed to play convincingly a simple stupid cat, who was thinking only about stupid things like mice, nice food and neighbor lady-cats. However, all this was complete pretense. Casper was a huge, coal-black oversized Persian, with unlimited vitality under his clotted hair. Despite the use of the best cat shampoos and conditioners, his hair more resembled one big tangle. His face looked as if at least a mammoth stepped on it. In fact, this was a breed characteristic, and Casper never forgot about it and also about belonging to a witch: when he was walking along the street even fierce mongrels hid into the bushes whimpering.

Anna drank a large mug of strong and very sweet tea, got rid of thick theatrical makeup with relief, went into the bedroom and stretched delightedly on white bed sheets. Nick was wheezing in the bed nearby. Was not it what she was dreaming of? A sleep in a soft bed of a comfortable flat in one of European capitals, the smell of leaves rushing with fresh wind into wide open windows and quietness of the night city occasionally broken by noise of cars.

Maybe this is her materialized dream. But what can she do with this weird feeling of a coming disaster ill placed in this paradise? Anna looked at her sweetly sleeping son and smiled in the dark. Probably everything will turn out all right. Probably.

Casper softly jumped up on the bed, walked along its edge and chafed against her face, softly crooning a lullaby. He kneaded her with his clawed paws a little bit and then tightly wormed his way to her armpit quite sure that it was time for all descent cats to sleep and one could think his thoughts in the morning.

She was awakened by a peal of bells floating above the city. Nick mumbled something clearly disapproving into his pillow and turned his nose to the wall. Anna jumped out of the bed effortlessly, stepped to the window to close the leaf and stood admiring.

Far away ahead, among trees and red tiled roofs, the church spire caught first rays of the sun and started shining as a thing gold needle. Birds flushed from the tower bell, clapping their wings loudly. Sweet was the smell of the flowering linden under the window.

Anna looked at the clock – it was only half past seven. She did not sleep long but felt herself bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Having taken her clothes from the chair, she sneaked out of the room quietly. Casper was busily trotting track behind her ready to follow anyone who was going to the fridge. His mistress really went to the kitchen and Casper rightly hoped to have full breakfast as there were no other amusements here.

He was forbidden to go out. No one doubted his ability to defend himself, but in this country they were very strict about pets: descents cats and dogs were not allowed to wander around by themselves. Casper would immediately be caught by special services and sent to the dog shelter for identification and this meant sheer complexity.

- You will have to be patient, - Anna said sympathetically and put additional piece of fresh chicken as compensation.

Casper was not against chicken and immediately hid his face in the bowl so that his mistress would not see leery glistening yellow eye of the wooly bandit. He thought she did not have to know that he had already got his liberty twice, using the old linden under the tree as the main staircase. Of course Nick knew this but he did not give the cat away in solidarity.

That is not to say that Casper was mad keen on the city. Rather on the contrary. He rummaged all neighborhood trying to find a love affair or a good fight at least, but failed to find any stray animal. Those who were on leash were good for nothing; they were accompanied by vigilant masters. Bored, he crawled in scrap-heaps a little bit and it again was a real bummer: trash bins of these nerds shone with virgin cleanness and smelled disgustingly of detergent.

Bored to death, Casper managed to find a small herd of large dogs, sat in front of them inviting to play tags and smiled them a long time. But the dogs were scared for some reason and ran away into the main entrance hallway.

No, there was definitely nothing to do in this city.

* * *

Nick was still sleeping and Anna decided that she had time to buy something delicious for breakfast, moreover there were two days-off ahead, and they reverenced the labor code in this country: none of the shops worked on Saturday and Sunday.

First of all, the girl made a dive into a tiny bakery sweet with odors of freshly baked bread. Its owners quickly remembered the new customer and always gave her the same welcoming smile as they did to other local residents. They were generous for smiles here. At first the total sincere politeness made Anna to feel uncomfortable, but she quickly felt herself at ease and now also smiled to anyone not being afraid that she could be misunderstood.

The girl filled a special paper bag with hot crusty sesame buns and added two sandwiches with smoked turkey – they made them perfectly here. In the next shop she bought yogurt, thick sour cream and fresh cream and also a piece of tender pink ham for Nick and several packs of mozzarella for herself. Anna’s favorite cheese cost peanuts here, three times cheaper than at home, and she dug it in with tomatoes and smelling basilica to her hearts content three times a day.

Even though the other fashionable product in Russia, which cost here as cheap as potatoes, disappointed Anna. She picked juicy, snow-white asparagus fresh from the garden – they did not have the different one though – cooked it following all recipes but could not eat it. The delicacy tasted like stale beetroot. It was only to be surprised by enthusiasm of Russian supporters of healthy life. Well, but tastes differ…

To buy vegetables she had to cross the street. She was embarrassed of riches and wanted everything and at once, but at first Anna decisively went to a tray with tomatoes and sweet bell pepper. It did not seem possible to learn the local language, but fortunately nearly all shop assistants understood English.

- More broccoli, please, - asked Anna. The shop assistant nodded and started tearing off elastic external leaves covered with dew from the head before putting it on the scales.

- Aren’t you tires of cooking in this heat? – someone asked her lazily from behind in her native language.

- No, - Anna smiled peacefully, having recognized Vivien’s voice. – I love fresh vegetables.

- I see, you are on a diet, - the woman smirked understandingly, - and I everything I want and prefer meat. – She patted her rather round frame with pleasure.

Anna did not explain that it had nothing to do with diet as Vivien did not need any explanation. Despite the early morning her colleague was all tricked out: thick make-up smeared from the hot sun her high fluffed up discolored hair resembled products of a walk-mill during the deep stagnation. The tinseled acid color dress much shorter than she should wear in her age – and she was older than fifty – looked really terrible. Passerby turned around but Vivien with self-assurance took their squeamish curiosity for admiration.

- Russian whore? – The shop assistant gave Anna a wink passing her the bag with her buys and change.

- No, no, thank you! – She shook her head.

-What no, no? – said indignantly Vivien, who did not speak any other language except her native one. – What did he say?

The truth Anna wanted to say but lied:

- Nothing, just said thank you for shopping here and invited to come again.

- Really? – asked suspiciously the blond who thought the phrase of the foreigner was too short for such a long sentence.

Anna nodded her head with confidence.

In her turn Vivien seductively – as she though- smiled to the shop assistant, fished out the largest strawberry from the woven basket and licked it meaningfully.

What the shop assistant called after them, even Anna could not understand, but she guessed that it was better for her to find another green grocery.

CHAPTER 2

According to her passport, Vivien’s real name was Masha. Little could be said descent about this person so that girls would not blush. There were persistent rumors in the TV centre that the lady spent all her free time in a bed of her another casual lover, whom she was looking for in hot spots with perseverance worthy of a better cause. However, even such characters did not stay long with her. But Vivien was not giving up. Her colleagues were already tried of telling jokes about gallant adventures of a poor man-eater, and Anna suspected that most of tattles were spread by the heroine herself. In the same way Vivien lied passionately about her violent concert activity and having slashing success with the great and the good. Foreigners believed her while Russians seriously thought about where they could get a piano for a large-scale debunking.

Deep in her heart Anna felt sorry for the poor thing. How many of them, such soft fancy old girls with hair looking like whipped cream, are turning sour in Russia? Exactly! Vivien was lucky to get into the right place in right time and from that luck she slightly went nuts.

The television administration took a relaxed look at their employee. Vivien was a usual quack from the magic but nevertheless she had high ratings as her eyes could shoot fire demoniacally and she could twist her manicured paws with proper amplitude.

With all her due sympathy and loyalty Anna hoped very much that Vivien would go farther all by herself, but the latter suddenly wanted a company. Understanding that she should better wrap up her shopping so that in the future she did not go to shops on the other part of the city, Anna decided to go home.

Vivien was stubbornly following her. By the entrance she seized Anna’s sleeve but somehow hesitatingly and that made Anna turn round in surprise.

- Look, let’s drop to my place right now? – dumfounded Vivien. Anna did not think the idea was rather good.

- Something has happened? – she guessed, surprised not by the proposal itself but rather by the tone it was said.

- Not yet, - Vivien clucked but she did not feel joyful. She understood herself that she was overdoing and said frankly: - I think I got into trouble.

In fact she regularly got into trouble but now Anna understood that something extraordinary had happened and asked without enthusiasm:

- How can I help you?

-Let’s go to my place and I will tell you, - Vivien tried to rouse her curiosity.

- Maybe it is better here? –Anna asked with a glimpse of hope, putting the heavy bag into the second hand.

- No, not here. I will not only tell but also show you something, - the dame equivocated, but Anna was not impressed. However there was no backing space as it was clear she would not back off. To argue with Vivien was the same as beating a downy pillow: you are already exhausted and it doesn’t give a hoot. So Anna recognized her defeat and promised to come in person after she gave breakfast to her son.

- Gosh, kids! I hate them, - the old beauty made a wry face, languidly moving her breast tightly packed in the bra. It was a weird statement from a mother of three charming baby-dolls, who were peacefully growing at their grandmother in the village. The heroic old lady definitely deserted a medal as she had recently tuned eighty.

Vivien was lucky as she lived not in a condominium but on the villa. In fact she owned just one room there but the picturesque garden was at her full disposal. It was a pity that Vivien would rather have different amusements than nature’s beauty and could not enjoy her situation in full. She was always complaining of a nosy landlady who lived here in the rest – and rather big – part of the house.

Auntie Vidonka returned like for like to her tenant and hated her. She had already regretted hundred times that she rented a flat to this Russian. Of course she paid a handsome sum of money and it would not be out of place in any home, but not a single profit could pay back for discomfort of endless visitors with fishy appearance and sleepless nights – and I say who could sleep quietly when everything was shaking, creaking and groaning overhead till the morning?

Having opened the gates answering the bell, Auntie Vidonka prepared to face off another unexpected visitor, but seeing modestly dressed girl without make-up and a pony-tail, she was at a slight loss. She thought that the stranger must have come to the wrong address, but the girl mentioned the tenant’s name and freely walked in.

Auntie Vidonka was dying to know why such a princess came to this slut, but, alas, the guest closed the room door tightly.

Anna was not in the mood. Vivien’s stupid whim cost her unhappy eyes of her son, who had been waiting for the weekend for the whole week to go for an excursion to the palace together. Anna had difficulty to make him smile, having promised him to have an evening walk in the city and to visit all ice-cream cafes they would see. It goes without saying that it spelled sore throat but the kid would not agree for less.

- Well, what happened to you? – Anna asked impatiently, sitting on the very edge of a wide untidy sofa with Vivien lying on it in transparent acid-pink night rail.

Were it not a complete mess, the room could be called cozy. Candy wraps on the powder table, dark banana peels and cheap woman’s weeklies scattered on the floor created picturesque but not the most pleasant landscape, which the room owner did not even notice. The only thing in this room, which was in complete order, was Vivien’s wardrobe. All clothes were neatly on the hangers on very thing nails hammered right into the wall, making a picturesque panel painting which could cause an esthetic shock of an unprepared onlooker.

Having jerked her foot in a plush sleeper with pompon, Vivien proposed, trying to delay the conversation:

- Want to have a drink?

Anna had already guessed that the problem could not be solved without hot drink, but replied wisely:

- I would rather have some water. It is too hot. Do you have water?

- In the fridge, - her host wound her curly head round. – Help yourself. I do not want to get up.

Anna took a bottle, unfastened the cap, took two gulps of water and again started at the host questioningly.

- Well? Are you going to tell or I will leave? – She asked with secret hope that she would be proposed the second option. It could be seen with a naked eye that the upcoming conversation was getting Vivien down and she had not decided yet whether she really needed. It seemed that the topic was rather sensitive.

Anna already began to hope that they with Nick would be able to make an excursion, but at this moment Vivien spoke with complete abandon.

- Just promise you will not rat on me, - she warned aiming her threatening scarlet claw into her guest’s forehead.

- Unless you are preparing an attempt for life of the countries president – I swear. – Anna put her arm on her heart playfully, still thinking that she had to untangle another Gordian knot of a love affair with dense sexual implication, but she hoped in vain.

Twisting her ass as a caterpillar, Vivien backed up slightly, remaining of the sofa, stretched to the bedside table and got a small thing wrapped into a piece of clean sackcloth from a drawer.

- Here, admire, - she shoved the bundle into Anna’s hands.

After a slight pause, Anna unfolded the cloth and whistled:

- Where did you get this horrible crap from?

-A present, - Vivien shot quickly.

-Really? – Anna asked doubtfully looking at a small casket which smelled of rust, fresh ground and big troubles from far off. – And if you tell me the truth?

Vivien kept silent stubbornly.

At first glance, the casket had at least had its four hundred’s anniversary and looked really threatening. Beneath the thick layer of rust one can read the characters which did not raise tenderness: snakes, spiders and other creatures in great numbers. Their tightly tangled bodies covered the whole lid sometimes going to the sides and this looked as though the imp lived its own life and was better not to interfere into this life. The handle of the casket looked like an amputated extremity of a skeleton, manufactures with all anatomical details, and did not cause a desire to touch it. Anna had an urge to throw this medieval masterpiece through the small window, but from her childhood she was taught to respect other people’s property and she just put the thing on the edge of the table.

- Well, so what? Will you confess? – Anna repeated her question.

- All right, I will tell you, - sighed Vivien. – One woman brought it to me.

- And did this woman explain you how she got hold of this thing?

- More or less. She found it in her garden, right on a garden-bed when she was planting marrows. Or were they pumpkins? Well, some kind of seedlings, anyway. The thing made an impression on her and seemed valuable, but before taking it to the local antiquarian to have it evaluated, she wanted to discuss it with an independent expert. While she was contemplating she happened to watch our show program. The lady decided that this was a sign, learned my address and came directly here. But at first she tried to open the casket thinking that there were…

- Gold and diamonds? – Anna smiled