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Still, it was the first time I stopped fearing the Nightmare—the voice in my head, the creature with strange yellow eyes and an eerie, smooth voice. Eleven years later, and I don’t fear him at all. Even if I should.
My magic moves, he said. My magic bites. My magic soothes. My magic frights. You are young and not so bold. I am unflinching—five hundred years old.
“There once was a girl,” he murmured, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”
The Shepherd King had made seventy-eight Providence Cards in descending order. There were twelve Black Horses, held exclusively by the King’s elite guard—the Destriers. Eleven Golden Eggs. Ten Prophets. Nine White Eagles. Eight Maidens. Seven Chalices. Six Wells. Five Iron Gates. Four Scythes. Three Mirrors. Two Nightmares. And one Twin Alders.
“I have your father’s permission, Elspeth.” “But not mine,” I said, more forceful this time.
Plausible reasons are but a shadow at the gallows. The highwayman meets the hangman, one way or another.
What’s the old adage, my dear? Something about ladies and protesting far too much?
“I’d call an admission of treason exceptionally forthright for one day, Miss Spindle,” he whispered.
Weariness was king, and I his servant.
“You and I already carry strange magic. We’re the very things the book warns against, Miss Spindle.” He smiled, gesturing away from the house into the garden. “We needn’t be afraid of a little salt in the air.”
I stomped out of the thicket like an ogress, wild and weary.
“Call me Elspeth,” I said. “We’re about to commit treason together, after all.”
“Of all the things I pretend at,” he said, his thumb drawing small, gentle circles along my waist, “courting you has proven the easiest.”
“Hauth broke your wrist, Ravyn mangled his hand. Balance.”
“I’ve heard, if used too long, the pain is excruciating.” Elm feigned a gasp. “No one told me—I’ll stop using it at once!”
“Be safe,” I whispered to the wind as Ravyn Yew disappeared beyond the gate. Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.
