“Will you think twice about abusing your power now?”
My gaze shifted from my mother’s peaceful shape to the harsh, black-covered lord. He stood beside the bed, his elbows akimbo, his legs slightly parted. He awaited an answer.
I had more than a few choice words to give him, but I couldn’t speak. I did what I thought would rectify that situation and nodded.
My eyes still betrayed some of my intentions. The lord nodded, and one of the specters’ hands released its grip on my arm and removed the muzzle. However, he stood holding it beside my head, ready to slap it back on at a moment’s notice. And his other hand wouldn’t release his painful grasp.
I said nothing. Nothing was to be gained yet until I knew what was going on.
The lord had no qualms about filling the silence. “We should have had the Returning today. And the wedding. I would have let your father and sister come to see her.” He paused. “I gave you almost a year to get over that boy you thought you loved. But, as ever, you prove too stubborn.”
It was difficult to bite my tongue and not respond to his comment about Jurij. I forced myself to remain calm. “What’s going on? You said you wouldn’t help me.”
“I said I would do what I could.” The lord stirred slightly, seeming to fight something within himself. Then he relaxed. “Her survival was to be a Returning present.”
“What?” So much for calm.
The lord crossed both his arms tightly across his chest. “I would have told you, but only upon the Returning.”
“But since I refuse the Returning, why did you tell me anyway?”
“Because you have acted so imprudently. You are taken with the power you have over me!”
“The power I have over you?” I gave a pointed look first to one of my trapped arms and then to the other before glaring in the lord’s direction.
He must have nodded, if only slightly. His shiny metal hat tipped forward and caught a small sparkle from the firelight.
The specters released me but remained close. The one holding the muzzle tucked it into his front coat pocket. I had the feeling that even though they had set me free, it would take only a slight wave from the lord and I’d find myself ensnared again.
The lord’s voice was hard and cold. “You know of what I speak.”
I laughed. I was his goddess, but the thought didn’t make me rejoice at my power over the lord. It was a mere illusion, like the power of my choice.
My mother was alive and the lord had her in his grasp.
I crossed over to her and felt her cheek. Ice cold, like the rest of this dreaded castle. I wished against all hope that I could turn back time and listen to her and the other villagers. That I had never so much as looked at this place.
I ran a finger across her golden hairline, noticing the touches of gray that framed her face, and watched the barely noticeable twitch of her nose as it took in and let out the frigid air around us.
I faced the lord, one hand still resting atop my mother’s head. “How is she alive?”
The lord moved closer, the hollow echoes of his hard-tipped boots reverberating across the room. Without even thinking, I jumped up, sliding between the bed and the wall and clutching the headboard tightly with both hands. Although thin, the lord was more broad-shouldered than I. He wouldn’t be able to follow me.
He almost tried it regardless, but he paused and walked slowly in the other direction. He ran a black-gloved hand along the length of the quilt covering my mother and stood opposite me at the foot of the bed.
“I expected to be thanked,” he said.
Forget the lost blade Elgar. I wanted a few of my chisels and gouges. Perhaps I could carve him a new face so I could stop directing my anger at an empty black void.
“Explain,” I uttered slowly, “why my mother is here.”
“I had her brought here,” replied the lord, “after you asked for my help.”
So Father was right. He could have done something. But what had he done?
The specters snapped back into imitating statues.
He was careful with his words, this one, saying not a grain more than bidden. I had never seen a man not yet Returned so reluctant to obey his goddess. But he wasn’t like the other men at all; the power he went great lengths to hold over me was more than enough to prove that.
I couldn’t help but think the men I’d met in my dream were a warning, something my subconscious had picked up on the few times I’d met the lord.
The lord moved casually now toward the fireplace, the fingers on one hand running over the edges of the footboard.
“I would be careful,” he said before pausing. “Just how freely you use that power.”
He faced the fireplace now, folding his hands behind his back. One finger pointed outward briefly and the four specters flew in, two on each side of the bed. From their coat pockets, they each removed a small blade and held it out over my mother, ready to strike.