The tips of a glove ran smoothly across my finger and reminded me of the delicate softness of bird down. When I’d played with my friends by the livestock, we’d often tickled one another with the down left behind by farmers’ chickens, but this elicited so much more aching and none of the giggles. And there was something more, a warmth mixed in with the chill of the leather. Leather. Leather, like in the cavern pool.
I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened and my palm was locked firmly in his grasp.
“It’s fine, thank you,” I said, a little more sternly than I’d intended.
He let my hand free. I stumbled, a bit off balance, and he steadied me at the shoulders.
“Let me get a needle,” he said, “and I can remove the splinter for you.”
“You needn’t trouble yourself.”
“It is no trouble at all, I assure you.”
“I’m sure I can get it myself later, thank you.” I cradled the finger protectively against my shoulder, lest he try to wrest it from me again.
“But you would not forbid me from treating it?” His voice seemed odd. Tentative.
“Uh, no,” I mumbled. I didn’t know whether or not giving in would end the embarrassment sooner.
“Wait here a moment.”
The echoes of his footsteps reached my ears, and he was gone. I stood, wondering if it would be more foolish to stay or to go. You came here for a reason. But you’re risking your life! What is life without Jurij? The dilemma was meaningless, as I hadn’t made even a blind step forward when I heard his echoing footsteps again. A bottle clanged against the floor in front of me.
“I brought some ale to numb the area and bandages with which to wrap it.”
I laughed before I could stop myself. “It’s just a splinter.”
He made a sound that I thought to be laughter as well, although it echoed throughout the chamber in a tone both sweet and melancholy. “Yes, well, I will do all I can to help you.” The leather feathers cradled my injured hand that still rested atop my shoulder. “May I?” he asked. His speech was warmer and more confident.
“All right.” It was my turn to speak tentatively.
He took my hand in his and pulled on it a little as he bent down to retrieve the bottle of ale. The cool liquid didn’t sting as it should have and reminded me of nothing more than water. A rustle of leather and the hand touching mine became as cold as ice, as smooth as marble. He’d removed one of his gloves and now the icy fingertips grew warm. Somehow, I felt both comforted and violated. The pain from the splinter vanished.
“What is your request?” he asked as he began poking my fingertip with the needle. My heart soared a little at the idea that he might be able to ask the goddess to help me after all, that she might actually be out there somewhere, watching. My finger throbbed, but I felt that it should have hurt more than it did, that he was taking great pains to minimize my soreness. The needle pricked just a little harder than previously. I squeaked a little in shock.
“Did I hurt you?” The man’s hand stiffened.
“Uh, no,” I responded. Better to finish this sooner rather than later. Heat rose on my cheeks. “No more than anyone could help.”
The man’s grip loosened slightly. “But I should do better than anyone else.”
My muscles weakened from being held aloft for so long, but I gritted my teeth and refused to let my limb waver. Speak your mind, Noll. Tell him why you’ve come. Now that the opportunity had presented itself, I couldn’t make myself voice the foolish thoughts inside of me. The man went back to work, prodding the needle into my skin even more gently than before. At rare moments, the needle or the splinter made my finger ache considerably more, but I bit the inside of my bottom lip and made no more sudden movements.
“You must need something very important,” said the man after a bit of silence. “You are aware of the penalty for a woman setting foot in the castle?” The man gave one final thrust with the needle. “I have it!”
This is it. I flinched. The splinter gone, I hoped I’d be free to pull my hand back, but the man gripped harder. “Wait a moment,” he said. Then he added, “Please.”
What choice did I have? I wasn’t about to win a bout of strength against him. I relaxed my pull. “I … ” I straightened my shoulders, doing my best to act the queen. “I was willing to risk death.”
“Were you?” The trickle of the stingless ale fell over my fingertip again, and what followed was a gentle patting with what felt like cloth. Then the iciness of his fingers burned warmly again, and I felt no trace of pain. “That seems foolish. To risk such a treasure.”
My face flushed, and I was almost glad that my eyes were closed so I could imagine he didn’t notice. I felt exposed and vulnerable.
“I came to free my friend from the curse that binds him to a woman.”
He laughed. The sound made me go cold. “Who has the power to do that?”
I bit my lip, but I couldn’t give up now. “Who else would, but the first goddess?”
“And why would she ever break her own law?”