He gave me a sharp glance. “What do you mean?”
“You win, I lose my sister. I win, I condemn the world above to eternal winter. Is that not the true outcome of our game, Mein Herr?”
He could not deny it.
“Then I propose we call a draw. Then we both get what we want. I, my sister’s freedom and you”—I swallowed—“will have me. Entire.”
He was silent for a long while. “Oh, Elisabeth,” he said. “Why?”
I looked at where K?the lay, still senseless on the floor. “For my sister.” I pulled her into the circle of light. “For my brother.” I looked from K?the to the hollow above us. “For my family. And the world above.”
The Goblin King moved closer, slowly and haltingly, as though in pain. “That is not enough, Elisabeth.”
“Is it not?” I asked with a dark laugh. “Is the world not enough? Could I condemn everyone to an eternal winter, spring and life never returning?”
He hovered on the edge of the circle of light. I could see the figure of his body outlined in silver and black, and the slim shape of his hand just beyond the circle’s edge.
“Always thinking of others,” the Goblin King murmured. “But that’s still not enough. Don’t you ever make any wishes for yourself, Elisabeth?”
What would be enough? He had an answer he wanted to hear, but I withheld it. Games and more games. We would always be dancing with each other, the Goblin King and I.
“All right, then,” I said. “For love.”
It was a while before he spoke. “For love?” His voice was rough.
“Yes,” I said. “After all, we all make sacrifices for love.” I leaned over and kissed my sister on the forehead. “We make them every day.” I lifted my eyes to where his shadow stood beyond the edge of light. The two-toned eyes gleamed at me and while I could not see the rest of his face, the hopefulness in them moved me. “You called me selfless,” I said. “So I claim selfishness. Because for once, I want to love myself best, instead of last.”
He said nothing. He was silent so long I feared I had made a mistake, but then he opened his mouth to speak.
“Think well on this, Elisabeth.” There was a fervor in his voice I could not quite discern. “Your choice, once made, cannot be unmade. I am not so generous as to offer you your freedom again.”
I hesitated. I could fight him. I could force his hand, make him bring K?the and me back to the world above. I’d defeated him before and I could do it again.
But I was too tired to fight. Moreover, I did not want to fight. I wanted to surrender, because surrender was the greater part of courage.
“I offer myself to you.” I swallowed hard. “Free and of my own will.”
“For yourself?”
“Yes,” I said. “For myself.”
The longest pause of all. “All right.” His words were scarcely audible in the large cavern. “I accept your sacrifice.” By my feet, K?the began to murmur and moan. “I shall bring your sister to the world above and then”—his breath caught—“will you consent to be my queen?”
I turned my face away.
“Elisabeth.” The way the Goblin King said my name made my heart flutter. “Will you marry me?”
This time, it was a long time before I replied.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I will.”
Part III
THE GOBLIN QUEEN
My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perish’d thing; Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King.
—CHRISTINA ROSSETTI, A Better Resurrection
CONSECRATION
The Goblin King took K?the away without another word. She was in my arms one moment and gone the next, gone before I could say goodbye, before I could tell her I loved her.
I do not know how long I sat there in the oubliette. My mind was blank, devoid of any sorrow or thoughts or music. I should have felt grief. I should have felt fear. But instead I felt nothing but immense weariness, an exhaustion so profound it was like death. Hours, or days, or minutes passed before I felt the light touch of a hand on my head.
“Elisabeth.”
A young man looked down at me, his mismatched eyes soft, the tilt of his mouth tender. It was the tenderness that undid me, undid the strings I’d bound about my heart. Longing, fear, grief, resentment, and desire came tumbling out. I began to cry.
The young man reached out to wipe my tears away, and in his touch there was nothing but kindness. I wanted to take his compassion and wrap it about me for comfort.
An apology hung in the space between us, though he did not speak.
I’m sorry, Elisabeth.