《Girls and Monsters》


 Chapter 1

    The best lilies stood at the far eastern edge of the castle, near the abandoned church. The pond had flooded the church, warping the stones and causing the building to sink. In the morning sunlight, the water gleamed. Seri, with her garden shears and basket, sat along the edge of the pool, cutting flowers for her mother¡¯s grave.


    She was alone. She¡¯d asked her father to come, but he was busy poring over lists of castle genealogies, trying to figure out where best to find himself a new bride. Seri¡¯s grandmother, Gertrude, said her father ought to be looking for a husband for Seri¡ªshe was seventeen now, and it was high time she was married. But Seri was happy for her father to take his time. She hoped for a husband of quality. Not a man she loved¡ªthat was too much to ask for. But someone she respected and who would respect her. Someone she might grow to love.


    Just not right now. Her little sister¡¯s death had only just started to harden into a dull ache in her chest. Mina had died last summer, a tragic accident, and before that it was Seri¡¯s mother, and before that, her younger brother, Ehren. Now it was only Seri left, and her father often looked at her with glazed, distant eyes, as if he expected her to die, too.


    Still, life kept on. Seri did the rituals, hollow, though they were. She cut the lilies, arranged them in a bouquet. It was nearing the anniversary of her mother¡¯s death, and Seri wanted the grave to look nice. She put the flowers in her basket, along with her garden shears. Seri had just stood up, when she felt a prickle at her neck like she was being watched.


    She spun around.


    A man stood behind her.


    At first glance, he seemed like a harmless wandering minstrel. He carried a lute in one hand and had a rolled rug near his feet. He had the appearance of a man in his late forties or fifties, his black hair streaked with white, with wrinkles across his face. He was tall, but with a slightly slumped back and shabby clothes. When he smiled, Seri saw that he was missing a tooth. It was friendly sort of smile, but Seri¡¯s guard was up, because this was not his true face. He was wearing an illusion.


    ¡°Good morning, Mistress.¡± The man doffed his hat. ¡°Would the Lady of the Castle care for a song? I will gladly roll out this rug for you¡ª¡± He pointed to the worn, if still beautiful Persian rug. ¡°¡ªand you may sit and hear my tune.¡±


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    ¡°No, thank you,¡± Seri said stiffly. Her hand moved into the basket, clutching the garden shears.


    Anyone with magic was not a mere minstrel, but a threat. Seri¡¯s own uncle was a powerful sorcerer. Although Seri carried magic within her, she was not trained in the art. It was forbidden for women to learn magic.


    This man, however, fairly pulsed with magic. Even disguised, his body moved too fluidly, too confidently. He was powerful. Who was he? How did he get over their wall? Small though it was, their castle was protected by spells. Most of all, why was this man in disguise? He meant mischief, that much Seri knew.


    Her heart beating fast, Seri walked past him, quickly, trying to make it toward the castle keep. But the man set his rug down and followed her, holding out a lute.


    ¡°Please, Mistress, one song¡ª¡±


    ¡°Go away!¡± she yelled.


    And because he was matching her stride for stride and overtaking her, Seri broke into a run. She dropped her basket, lifted up her skirts, and sprinted.


    There was a wretched twang of lute strings breaking. Seri turned to see them flying toward her. They caught at her ankles, wrapping them tight and twisting. Seri tripped and fell forward. Her basket fell beside her. Seri grabbed her shears.


    The sorcerer dropped his broken lute and walked over to her.


    ¡°You saw through my disguise, didn¡¯t you?¡± he said. ¡°You must have magic.¡± He stroked his chin. ¡°Strong magic.¡±


    Seri wriggled around and cut the strings around her ankles. She stood up, holding out the shears like a dagger.


    ¡°My family comes from a line of powerful sorcerers,¡± she said.


    ¡°A line that is dying.¡±


    ¡°My father will tear you apart!¡±


    ¡°Your father has no magic. Besides he is not here. There is only you.¡±


    Suddenly, more strings filled the air. They were clear colored, like glass, visible, but only barely. They coiled and writhed, so many and so alive. These magic, invisible strings shot at Seri, and wrapped her wrists, binding them. They wrapped her legs and waist, pulling her to the ground. She struggled and screamed, but she could not move.


    The sorcerer regarded her. ¡°Strong you may be, but unskilled, if you cannot break a simple binding. These great men never teach their daughters anything, do they?¡± He loomed over her. ¡°Maybe for the best. You girls are not as innocent as you seem.¡±


    Seri struggled. ¡°Whatever you do to me here, I will be avenged. You may be sure of it.¡±


    ¡°What can I do here? There are so many protection spells in place. Even my binding breaks.¡±


    It was true. Seri felt the strings fray and loosen. She wriggled free, but the sorcerer seemed unphased. With a quick tug of his fingers, he summoned the rug. It flew toward her and wriggled underneath her.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to my tower,¡± he said.


    The rug rolled Seri round and round until she was caught in its squeeze. She tried to scream, but her voice was muffled by the thick threads. Suddenly, the rug began to rise. They were soaring through the air, Seri realized, away from her home. She was being abducted.

 Chapter 2

    The flight was torture. Seri squirmed, but she was wrapped so tightly in the rug she could hardly breathe. The heavy, dusty threads crushed her. She screamed, but it did no good. They were high enough for the air to turn cold and thin, speeding so fast she could feel the wind whipping her face. No one would hear her, and even if she managed to wriggle out from the carpet, she¡¯d only fall to her death.


    There was nothing she could do¡ªnot until he brought her to wherever he intended to take her. Seri clutched the shears in her hand. They were her only weapon, paltry as they were.


    They flew for hours, until Seri¡¯s cramped limbs grew numb, and her stomach soured with dread. Finally, they descended. The rug unraveled her, and Seri fell dizzily to the floor.


    By now it was sunset, and her legs felt like jelly. Seri lurched up, reaching for the first piece of furniture she could find. She realized that it was a bed, and she shuddered.


    ¡°Please, make yourself comfortable,¡± the man said.


    He had taken off his minstrel disguise and now wore the form of an old man: a great and powerful sorcerer with a white beard, hard eyes, and ancient, but rich clothes from days long past. This, too, was merely an illusion, one cloak exchanged for another.


    The man shut the window and lit a candle. It was not the kind of room she had expected. It was small, colored in blues and whites and gold¡ªvery feminine. There were no shelves or a desk, but instead a large wardrobe, a chair, and a dressing table.


    Seri tucked her shears into the long sleeve of her dress.


    ¡°You must be tired from the trip. Have a drink,¡± the man said.


    He indicated a small bedside table where a tray had been set up with two decanters of wine, a goblet, and a pitcher.


    ¡°Water or wine, whatever suits your palate. But once you are finished, kindly lay down on that bed.¡±


    Seri pulled herself up.


    She walked over to the table. Not because she had any intention of drinking anything he offered, but because she wanted to delay for time. And to get closer to him. She pretended to examine the wines, all the while watching him out of the corner of her eye. He ignored her and pulled a sheet off a gold-framed mirror, which hung upon the wall. A sheen of enchantment coated the glass.


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    The sorcerer¡¯s back was to her.


    This was as good a chance as she was going to get. Seri ran at him, shears in hand. Before she could stab him, magical coils sprang from the air, binding her once again. Seri thrashed.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try it,¡± the sorcerer said. He slowly turned around. ¡°This is my tower, and the spells protect me. You¡¯ll find they are much stronger than the ones at your castle.¡±


    He plucked the shears from her hand.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± she yelled. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    He set the shears on the tray and looked at her with a cold expression.


    ¡°For now,¡± he said. ¡°I want you to lie on the bed and be still.¡±


    He flicked his hand. The invisible strings pulled her onto the bed. Seri tried to resist, but the strings wound around her and pulled her tight, pinning her to the mattress. It felt as if her arms and legs were tied to the bedposts. She knew then that he was going to rape her and that there was nothing she could do. She screamed and thrashed as best she could, which was not very well at all.


    ¡°Stop that,¡± he said. ¡°It will only hurt more.¡±


    And then he thrust something into her stomach. It felt like a cannonball going through her. Seri howled in pain, but a moment later, the pain had gone, leaving a dull ache and a feeling in her body that something was wrong. Like she had swallowed a lump of iron.


    ¡°There,¡± he said, and the bindings loosened. ¡°No need to be so overdramatic. This sting is but a little. The real pain comes later.¡±


    Seri rolled to her side and rubbed her stomach.


    ¡°What did you do to me?¡± she asked in a shaky voice.


    ¡°I put a curse on you,¡± he said. ¡°It will transform you into a dragon. Not all at once. Slowly, over many months. First, your body will change and then your mind will disappear. You will become a mindless beast¡ªone obedient to me. At my order, you will burn towers and kill and eat those within them, even your own kin. Unless, of course, I chose to break the curse and set you free.¡±


    Seri pressed her hand into her stomach. That was the wrong thing¡ªa spell, rooted deep inside her.


    ¡°Why?¡± she asked.


    ¡°If you want to be free from my curse, you must give me something I want. Something only you can give.¡± He stood over her. ¡°I¡¯m curious as to what you¡¯d offer.¡±


    ¡°And if I refuse?¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll have new pet,¡± he said.


    He walked over to the wardrobe and opened it to reveal beautiful dresses of satin and lace.


    ¡°Have a drink, wash up, get dressed,¡± he said. ¡°This is your room now, and everything here is at your disposal. You will meet me downstairs for dinner.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry,¡± she said.


    ¡°But the other girls are,¡± he said. ¡°And we all eat together.¡±


    ¡°Other girls?¡± she asked.


    He stood in the doorway, his back to her.


    ¡°Dinner is at seven,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t keep us waiting.¡±

 Chapter 3

    As soon as he left, Seri fell off the bed¡ªright onto the rug he¡¯d used to abduct her, now spread on her floor, looking perfectly innocent. Seri tried to stand up, but she couldn¡¯t get her legs to move. She curled into herself on the ground, breathing hard, wanting to cry, but unable to. Her mouth was dry and parched, but she would not touch the drinks he¡¯d left her.


    The room hummed with magic. She felt it, as she had in her castle, but there it had been comforting and here it was oppressive. Everything was beautiful and everything was dangerous. She was afraid.


    Seri took a deep gulp of air. She was at his mercy, powerless in many ways, but she still had her mind, and she still had her soul. She refused to yield either of those things to him. No matter how afraid she was, she couldn¡¯t act on fear. She would be herself. She would strive to do what was right, no matter what.


    It would be all right. Her uncle Englebert was a powerful, if reclusive sorcerer. Her father would find him and shake him from his decades¡¯ old stupor. They would storm the tower, duel this evil sorcerer, and rescue her. Help would come. All she had to do was wait.


    Seri stood up shakily. She saw her reflection from the great gilded mirror, but there was an enchantment upon its sheen, and so she threw the sheet back over it. He would not spy on her. She glanced at the wardrobe, at the dresses made of satin in blue and gold and white. The thought of his dresses touching her skin made her flesh crawl. She closed the door. She would not dress for him. The dress she wore now was a simple red wool with mud and grass stains¡ªbut it was her own.


    Seri went to the water bowl and washed her face¡ªnot to look pretty for him, but to clear her mind. She did not know what his plans were for dinner, but she was determined not to eat the food. She would eventually need to eat and drink or else she¡¯d die¡ªbut tonight, at least, she planned to keep her wits about her. She was going to learn all she could about him and the other girls and this place she was in.


    With that in mind, she opened the doors and stepped outside.


    Her door led directly to a long staircase. She was in a turret, she supposed. Seri walked down the stairs as best she could. Her legs were shaky, and once she tripped, but the magic coils leapt out and caught her, before she could fall. So the enchantments would not let her come to harm, either.


    At the end of the stairs, there was a door, and the door opened to a large waiting room. There was nothing there but gray marble floor, polished so brightly it shone like glass, and a large chandelier, burning bright with candles. Mirrors were everywhere¡ªsilver, not gold, but with the same enchantment as the one in her room.


    Four strange girls milled around the waiting room They were all dressed up, in wispy ballgowns so delicate they seemed like fairies, their hair pinned up with pearl combs. They were young, Seri thought, with a sickening lurch. None of them bore any signs of turning into a dragon.


    ¡°She¡¯s out,¡± said one of the girls, and they all turned to look at her. Their eyes contained pity, but some wore the same glazed expressions Seri had so often seen on her father.


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    ¡°But you¡¯re not dressed?¡± a young girl blurted.


    ¡°I¡¯m wearing what I came in,¡± Seri said. Her voice sounded raspy. ¡°If he¡¯s mad, he is mad. I¡¯m not here to please him.¡±


    The girls exchanged looks. One came up to her. She was the oldest of the bunch, perhaps twenty, and she had brown hair and a plump, pale face with a pointed chin.


    ¡°I am Rilla of Castle Lune. Who might you be?¡±


    ¡°Seri,¡± she said, then cleared her throat. ¡°I mean, I am Serihilde of Castle Staghome.¡±


    ¡°Welcome,¡± Rilla said, clasping her hands. ¡°I am sure this is very upsetting. We¡¯ve all been captured, taken from our home. I am sure this must come as a terrible shock but let me assure you that all is not as dire as it seems. You may even find your stay pleasant. There is much amusement at this tower.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure there is.¡± Seri looked into the mirror. ¡°For him.¡±


    She could feel him staring back at her. That was the purpose of the mirrors, she¡¯d guessed¡ªto spy on them. Watching them, as if they were his collection of pretty dolls on display.


    Seri turned back to the captive girls. ¡°What does he want?¡±


    No one answered. One cleared her throat.


    Seri looked at Rilla. ¡°What does he want?¡± she asked again.


    Rilla looked away. ¡°We are required to dress and have dinner with him at seven o¡¯clock, every night, unless he is traveling,¡± she said, as though reciting house rules. ¡°After dinner, he selects one girl to sit with him in the backroom. The rest of us are dismissed to our rooms.¡±


    ¡°And what does he do to girls there?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Talks, mostly,¡± Rilla said. ¡°Sometimes, he asks about our health or our families, sometimes he talks about himself, sometimes he speaks of nothing. But sometimes, he speaks of¡­ of what we might do in order to go back home.¡±


    ¡°Which is what?¡± Seri asked.


    The girls looked away.


    Seri felt queasy. ¡°Does he come into your beds at night? Does he rape you?¡±


    ¡°No, he never touches us¡­ not unless we say so,¡± Rilla said quickly. ¡°When we¡¯re ready to give him whatever he wants, he takes the girls aside, breaks the curse, and sends them home.¡±


    ¡°Or he murders them,¡± someone piped in, the youngest of the girls, who seemed barely fourteen.


    ¡°Lotte, you know that isn¡¯t true,¡± Rilla chided.


    ¡°It might be. No one actually knows what happens to them,¡± Lotte said. ¡°Because no one ever sees them again. He says he¡¯ll take us home, but we don¡¯t really know.¡± She looked at Seri. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to frighten you, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not frightened,¡± Seri said. ¡°I want the truth.¡± She turned to Rilla. ¡°Do you actually know what he does to the girls, once they¡¯ve given him what he wants?¡±


    Rilla looked down. ¡°No. But he tells us they¡¯re safe.¡±


    And they were supposed to trust this liar, this mad man? Seri looked around the room. The girls were drenched with fear. They were afraid of doing what he asked and afraid of not doing what he asked. So they shuffled about, in limbo. Seri looked in the mirror again. What did he want? He had them all at their mercy, but that wasn¡¯t enough.


    ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡± Seri asked.


    At if on cue, the double doors clattered open. The sorcerer stood in the doorway. He was impeccably dressed in all black, with white gloves and polished boots. Along with his clothes, he was wearing a new face, one of a handsome and tall man of thirty or so. He stepped into the room, and the girls stepped back, except for Seri, who stood her ground.


    ¡°My name is Brandeis Louis Arnwolf of the Secret Tower of Abnoba. But you may call me Brand, if you prefer,¡± he said, with a bow.


    Seri did not move. ¡°Is that your real name?¡± she asked. ¡°Or another disguise, like the illusions you wear upon your face.¡±


    ¡°I leave that to you to figure out, Lady Serihilde.¡± He stepped closer to her, and his eyes flickered over her body. Seri folded her arms across her chest. She wondered if he¡¯d do something to her for failing to dress, but he decided to ignore it.


    ¡°You¡¯re early,¡± he said. ¡°You must be hungry. Luckily for you, dinner is ready.¡±

 Chapter 4

    The dining room was cavernous. Like the waiting room, it had polished marble floors and a chandelier. The chandelier could hardly light this room, however, which was mostly dark. At the center of the room, under the chandelier, there was a long, brown table, already set. The girls walked directly to their place. Seri didn¡¯t know where to go, but the sorcerer walked beside her.


    ¡°I will show you to your seat. May I have your hand?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said.


    ¡°Very well,¡± he said suavely.


    He did not touch her, but he did lurk near to her, as near as he could, it seemed, without touching her. Seri marched in silence. She wanted to scream and push him away. She wanted to punch him or slap him. Her fingers curled into fists. She knew she wouldn¡¯t. She was afraid of what he¡¯d do to her, and the spell would probably prevent it. Besides, it was not what she needed to do tonight. Tonight, she was supposed to observe.


    He held out the chair for her, and Seri sat down stiffly, numbly. He¡ªBrandeis¡ªwalked from girl to girl, greeting them, smiling at them, sometimes brushing past them and grazing their shoulders with his fingertips. Like they were his property, she thought. Like his wives¡ªand yet not his wives, since as soon as they yielded to him, he got rid of them. What did he want? She still did not know, but the question was pressing on her, clawing to get out.


    Brandeis took his seat at the head of the table, and servants came in with wine and food. They were real people, which was brazen of him. As one came near her, she whispered to him, ¡°I¡¯m Serihilde of Castle Staghome. I¡¯m a prisoner. Tell my father, Lord Ekhard, that¡ª¡±


    The servant left before she could finish.


    The girl next to her shook her head. ¡°The servants are all deaf or blind or foreigners who cannot speak our language. They will not help you.¡±


    Seri looked at her plate and said nothing.


    Brandeis was at the head of the table, with Rilla on his left, and a blond girl on his right. He was chatting to each of them on and off. Seri, being furthest from him, was not in his clear line of vision. This was good. She did not want him to see how even this small setback made her spirit slump.


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    She wanted to be strong and to be calculating, but she was tired and hungry and afraid, and right now she hardly seemed able to move. Trays of food were put on the table, but she did not take them.


    ¡°Serihilde.¡± Brandeis¡¯ voice echoed across the hall and made her jump. ¡°You are not eating.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry,¡± she said, truthfully.


    There was a long pause.


    ¡°I understand that tonight has been rough,¡± Brandeis said. ¡°But do not think you can starve yourself. You will eat.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± Rilla said smoothly, putting her hand onto his. ¡°She will eat tomorrow, I promise you. The flight here has unsettled her stomach. A good rest, and her appetite will be restored.¡±


    Brandeis looked at Rilla and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll take good care of her.¡±


    The whole display sickened Seri further. She did not want anyone else coddling this man on her behalf. She wanted to tell him that she would eat, but not for him. However, a lump had grown in her throat, large and sticky, and she had trouble talking.


    The meal continued, and it felt like a blur. When it finally ended, and the plates had been cleared, Brandeis stood up.


    ¡°Thank you for the pleasure of your company. Tonight I require Lady Serihilde to join me in my private room.¡±


    ¡°I will not,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°That was not a request.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not well.¡±


    ¡°You are well enough,¡± he said. ¡°You will join me. Everyone else is dismissed.¡±


    The other girls rose and began to leave the room. Their shoes clattered on the polished marble. Seri wanted to join them, but she was glued to her chair. She didn¡¯t know if it was magic or fear or if she was truly sick. She felt dizzy. Her stomach throbbed and her head spun.


    As the last girl left, the double doors slammed shut. Brandeis rose from his chair and walked over to her. His feet made an ominous tap, tap, tap on the floor. Still she did not move. He prowled behind her.


    ¡°I¡¯m not an unreasonable man,¡± he said, and he was close enough that she could feel his breath. ¡°In fact, I¡¯m quite lenient. I don¡¯t tell girls what to wear or what to eat or what to do in their free time. But what I require, I require. You will not defy me, do you understand?¡±


    Seri looked at him. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I want you to come to my room.¡±


    ¡°And what will you do to me there?¡±


    ¡°We will talk,¡± he said. ¡°Relax. I am not going to attack you.¡±


    ¡°You attacked me before.¡±


    ¡°And that part is done. Now we can be civil.¡± He walked by her. ¡°Take a few breaths. Drink some wine. Collect yourself. And when you¡¯re ready, come inside to meet me.¡±


    He trailed past her. A single door opened, spilling light into the dim room. He strode through the passageway, leaving her in the dining room alone.

 Chapter 5

    Seri took a few breaths. She took a sip of water. She had to go into the room with him. Not because he said so, but because she needed to understand him. That was all she had to do right now. Learn. Learn so she could make a decision¡ªso she would know the right way to act.


    Seri staggered to her feet and walked into the room.


    Brandeis¡¯s private room resembled a salon. There was a fireplace that glowed warmly, and a number of chairs, including a rather large sofa, so wide and long, it might be used as a bed. Seri avoided this and sat in the plainest chair she could find. There were tables with board games and books and rugs and windows with curtains¡ªand, best of all, not one mirror.


    Brandeis was relaxing on a chair, drinking a small goblet of wine and looking through a book of pictures.


    ¡°Good evening, Seri,¡± he said. ¡°Do you mind if I call you that? Serihilde is so long and difficult.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± she said. Her mother called her that. Her father called her that. People she loved called her that¡ªnot him.


    ¡°Do you have a name you prefer?¡± he asked. ¡°No? Seri, it is then.¡± He turned to his book. ¡°Such beautiful, detailed drawings. Want to see?¡±


    He held it up, and she cringed, half expecting some pornography.


    ¡°Birds,¡± he said. ¡°From around the world. Not interested?¡±


    He threw it away.


    ¡°What do you like?¡± he asked, standing up.


    ¡°Honest answers.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°How boring.¡±


    ¡°Only a dishonest man would think so.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t lied to you.¡±


    ¡°You only wear different faces.¡±


    ¡°Is there a question you want answered?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, then, ask,¡± he said. ¡°That is why we are here.¡±


    Seri¡¯s hands gripped her skirt, wrinkling the fabric. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Why, the pleasure of your company.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Why did you bring me here¡ªall these girls here? What do you want from us? Why have you imprisoned us and threatened us and forced us to act like a haram of doting wives. If you want a wife or a mistress or a whole brothel, why not go about getting them the normal way? You have wealth and power enough. What is the point of this?¡±


    She stood up and stared him in the eye. Not his real eyes, but it didn¡¯t matter. His disguise was nothing more than a mask. Somewhere behind it was his real face, his real mind. A cracked, mad, devious mind, no doubt. It might be she could not even understand it. But she had to try.


    He gazed back at her for several long moments, then blinked and looked away. ¡°You have too many questions for a first meeting,¡± he said, drinking another swallow of wine. ¡°How about we start with one question each? A simple yes-or-no question. I ask one of you, you ask one of me, and we get to know each other.¡±


    She shook her head.


    ¡°What¡¯s the harm in it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m honest. You are not. You¡¯ll answer whatever suits you.¡±


    ¡°As I said, I haven¡¯t lied.¡±


    ¡°Yet.¡±


    He looked at her. ¡°All right,¡± he said, coyly. ¡°How about this? I¡¯ll do a truth binding. One simple question from each of us, requiring a yes or no answer. Does that suit you?¡±


    ¡°You can force me to speak?¡±


    ¡°Not force,¡± he said. ¡°You have to agree to it. This binding requires the consent of both parties or it doesn¡¯t work. You consent to speak the truth to me¡ªthe magic enforces it. I agree to speak the truth to you¡ªand the magic enforces it.¡±


    Seri licked her lips. ¡°But I don¡¯t know this spell. How can I be sure it works?¡±


    ¡°Because you can sense magic,¡± he said. ¡°Not many can. You¡¯ll know. Now do you want to have answers or not?¡±


    Seri ground her jaw. Yes, she wanted to know. But she did not want him to have power over her. And she was afraid if she gave him permission, he might use it against her in some awful way.


    ¡°What do I need to do?¡± she asked.


    It was not an agreement, but he took it as one. He snapped his fingers, and she felt these threads go inside her, into her mind and her lungs, like tiny little hairs. It felt odd. At the same time, she could feel the threads going up to him.


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    ¡°Say, ¡®I, Serihilde, consent to answer truthfully yes or no to one question Brand asks.¡¯¡±


    ¡°You say it first.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°I, Brandeis, consent to truthfully ask one yes or no question Serihilde asks, in this room tonight, provided she answer one of mine¡¯s first.¡±


    His wording, she noted, was rather more complex. ¡°I, Serihilde, consent to answer one yes or no question Brandeis asks.¡±


    She felt the magic lock, the hair-like fibers turn to steel.


    ¡°There, it¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°You gave us your real name,¡± she said.


    ¡°The world is drowning in names. Mine isn¡¯t worth much.¡±


    There was a touch of irony and more than a little bitterness in those words. She hadn¡¯t recognized the name, so she assumed he must be obscure¡ªbut to have all this? What did it mean?


    ¡°My question¡ª¡± she began.


    ¡°No,¡± he cut her off. ¡°I ask first. Are you a virgin?¡±


    She jerked up and felt a blush rising to her cheeks. She wanted to ask him how dare he presume to ask that of her, or maybe not answer at all, but she found the words forming in her throat and her mouth opening against her will.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she spat out.


    ¡°There,¡± he said. ¡°Not so hard.¡±


    ¡°Why would you ask me that?¡± she said.


    ¡°That is not a yes or no question, and I am not required to answer. But since you want to know, I will tell you. You see, as much as you women may pretend to be honest and innocent, I know many ladies who will lie to men¡¯s faces when asked this very simple question. Congratulations on holding onto your virtue for so long. Many girls do not.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said, ¡°though not always by fault of their own. But I don¡¯t presume to think you follow up your purity test with the question of whether they gave their virginity away or had it forcibly removed. Nor do I suppose you care one way or the other. To men it is always the woman¡¯s fault.¡±


    Brand grimaced and looked sideways. ¡°What is your question?¡±


    ¡°Do you kill girls after they yield to you?¡±


    His head shot back toward her. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not a murderer.¡±


    The tendrils of magic faded into thin air. Seri breathed a sigh of relief, both to be rid of the spell and to know at least that these pleasantries were not a prelude to murder.


    ¡°So what do you do with them, after they give you want you want?¡± She was aware that the truth part was over, but she to ask.


    ¡°I break the curse and send them home. Like I promise,¡± Brand said. ¡°I am a gentleman. I would never hurt an innocent woman.¡±


    Seri uttered a nervous laugh.


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe me?¡± he asked.


    ¡°How could I? Such blatant lies. You plucked me from my home, smothered me in a carpet, tied me to a bed and forced some sort of curse into my body. On what basis do you think you did me no harm? Or am I supposed to be grateful you didn¡¯t rape and murder me.¡±


    He stood up, and Seri could see she¡¯d gotten a reaction from him. He stalked over to her, and she braced herself. There was something about his eyes, a very deep and smoldering anger.


    ¡°You presume you¡¯re innocent?¡± he asked softly.


    ¡°I told you I¡¯m a virgin.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care that you¡¯ve managed to keep your legs closed up until now.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you ask?¡±


    ¡°Because I wanted to see what sort of person you are?¡±


    ¡°Based on that?¡±


    ¡°You said you¡¯re honest. But you women create your illusions, too. Don¡¯t pretend otherwise. I merely want to see through them.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re judging us?¡± she asked. ¡°You, who wear a mask. You, with all the power at your disposal, have nothing better to do with your life than to steal women, put them in a cage, peel back the layers of their soul, and judge their virtues like some self-righteous god?¡±


    He stepped back.


    Seri drew a breath. She was shaking again. She sank into her chair. Her head was spinning, and yet fear mingled with a morbid sort of thrill. It felt good to tell him what was on her mind, even if she realized she was putting herself in danger.


    ¡°This has been an interesting conversation,¡± he said. ¡°Perhaps, we should continue it some other time. But you¡¯ve had a long day. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re ready for bed now. I will escort you to your room.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Do you know your door?¡± he asked.


    She blinked.


    ¡°I thought not.¡± He picked up a candelabra. ¡°Take my arm and I will show you.¡±


    She did not take his arm, but he did lead her out to the waiting room and point out the door to her room. Once she knew the door, she turned so that she was facing him, watching to see if he tried to follow her up. Instead, he tilted his head, smiled, and bowed.


    ¡°Good night, Lady Seri. Sweet dreams.¡±


    * * *


    Needless to say, Seri did not have sweet dreams. She hardly slept and when she did, she was haunted by images of Brand¡¯s many faces, by the feeling of invisible cords pinning her down and dragon fire burning her from the inside out. She threw up twice during the night, mostly water and bile. But when she finally woke, late in the morning, she had an epiphany.


    She understood him. Or at least, she knew what he wanted.


    Brand had power, that was clear, but the way he used it was subtle. Last night, after she refused to join him in his room, he could have bound her in magic and pulled her in. Instead, he spoke softly and waited for her to join him. Similarly, he might have forced himself upon the girls, but he didn¡¯t. They said as much. He never touched them. Instead, he waited for them to reach out to him, to take his hand. And though he might have raped each and every one of the girls as soon as they arrived, instead he waited for them offer their bodies.


    He wanted the girls to choose to submit to him.


    To bend, not just their bodies, but their wills to him. It was his desire to prove women were not these pure and innocent creatures¡ªhe¡¯d told her as much last night. Why he wanted to do this, she did not understand. Nor did she need to. Suffice it to say that him being subtle did not make his actions any less evil. It only made the truth of the situation harder to see.


    But now that she saw it, she knew what she needed to do. To resist him. To choose not to submit her body or her will to him.


    Seri gnawed her lip. Granted, if she did resist him, it would anger him, and he might then use his power in an overt way. He might strike her or beat her. Tie her down and rape her. But that was his intention anyway, she decided. It was just a matter of whether she would play into his mad delusion or not. She would not. He would hear the truth, no matter the consequences to her, because that was the only right thing to do.


    With that, she went downstairs and ate breakfast. Bread, fruit, and sausage were arranged on the long table, though only a few girls were awake and eating. Seri drank down several glasses of fresh water and devoured her food. She no longer feared being poisoned, because what would be the point of that?


    ¡°You seem better,¡± Lotte said.


    ¡°Much better,¡± Seri said. ¡°Last night was enlightening.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°He¡¯s not so bad once you get to know him.¡±


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s a monster,¡± Seri said. ¡°A complete and utter monster, but one I now understand. Believe me, I have no intention to bowing down to any of his whims.¡±


    Lotte blinked. ¡°He has magic. He¡¯ll make you do it.¡±


    ¡°Then let him make me,¡± Seri said. ¡°If he wants to use magic, he is more than able. But he will not make me choose to give him anything. Not my time, not my voice, not my supplication.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy.¡±


    ¡°It is he who is crazy. I just refuse to be caught up in it.¡± She shoved a piece of bread into her pocket. ¡°Now can you show me around this place. I want to test some boundaries and see just what holds.¡±

 Chapter 6

    From afar, Seri had looked no different from the many other young women Brand had captured. More rustic than some. Her long dark hair had been tied up loosely, her red dress was simple, her boots sturdy. When he¡¯d flown over the wall and seen her from behind, cutting lilies by the pond, she seemed the picture of a pretty, provincial maiden¡ªnot the worst kind of lady, he supposed. She would fight¡ªat first. But once she arrived at his house, with every luxury thrown her way, she¡¯d relent. He¡¯d seduce her, as he did with all the other girls.


    Brand¡¯s first clue that she might prove difficult came that first night, when she point-blank refused to come into his study and then spent the whole time arguing with him. Some women did act this way. A few¡ªnot most, but some¡ªdecided to push against his courtesy. He wondered if she¡¯d be that way. If so, he¡¯d educate her on manners.


    Not that Brand was overly strict.  In general, he let the women do as they liked. He woke late, long after most of the girls had finished breakfast, and walked through the tower, checking on them. The first girl he ran into Ida, the quietest of the girls, and she confirmed that Seri had eaten that morning. Good. He did not want another starving woman on his hand.


    Brand made his way to the gardens and was startled to see Seri midway up the brick wall, her legs and arms tangled in vines. Startled, but not all that surprised. He assumed she was trying to scale the walls. The vines had sprung out, binding her, preventing her escape.


    ¡°Would you like a hand?¡± Brand offered.


    Seri glared at him and pointedly turned to the young girl near her.


    ¡°Lotte, there are a pair of garden shears in my room. Please get them for me.¡±


    Brand chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re only making things harder for yourself. Say the word, and I¡¯ll let you down.¡±


    She looked away.


    ¡°Suit yourself.¡±


    It was not unusual for new girls to try to escape. Some tried harder than others. But the magic here was strong. Seri would not get out.


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    Brand walked on and found Rilla in the library and asked her to sit with him for a board game. Rilla was keen to oblige. She was here the longest; her three months grace period was nearly up.


    They went to his private room, and Brand brought out his backgammon board. For the first few minutes, they were absorbed with throwing their dice and moving their pieces. Then Rilla spoke.


    ¡°The new girl said you did a truth-binding with her,¡± she said.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you offer it to me?¡±


    ¡°Because, my dear, you couldn¡¯t sense it. Besides, I thought you trusted me. Do you not?¡±


    He smiled. Brand was wearing the illusion of a young man, twenty-five, blond, tan and muscular. He had learned that the type appealed to Rilla. He did try to change his guise to the girl¡¯s preference.


    Rilla rolled the dice. ¡°Lotte thinks you murder the girls who leave.¡±


    ¡°She is very young, is she not? To believe such tales.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve not really talked about my fate,¡± Rilla said. ¡°What you require to send me home.¡±


    ¡°You wish to leave, Rilla? But my dear, I¡¯ve grown so fond of you. How could I part with my favorite girl?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be a girl much longer. I feel the changes coming.¡±


    ¡°You are still in the grace period.¡±


    ¡°But I feel it,¡± she said. ¡°In my nightmares, in my dreams. I cannot stand to think of becoming a dragon. Please, end this curse.¡±


    She took his hand, something she¡¯d become very comfortable with. He pressed his fingers lightly to her cheek, and she didn¡¯t flinch. She was ready, he thought. Willing to be seduced. He did like her, though, and would be sad to see her go. She was one of the older girls he¡¯d brought, and she kept the other girls in line. But it was time.


    ¡°You know, I would not see you harmed,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°What will you give me?¡± he asked.


    Rilla looked down. ¡°You spoke very fondly of my castle¡¯s jewel. If I help you to retrieve it, will that be enough?¡±


    ¡°A jewel is a poor replacement for my beautiful Rilla. I will accept it, of course¡ªbut what shall I have to remember you by?¡±


    She gazed up at him. ¡°One night together,¡± she said. ¡°A shared moment of passion to look back upon fondly and keep you warm during the cold nights.¡±


    ¡°I think that would suffice.¡±


    He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. He felt a brief twinge of affection. Not love. He wished he could feel that toward her, but perhaps three brief months was not time enough for love to grow. Still, he liked her and found her desirable, and he would miss her once she left. Some girls, who whined and gossiped, lied and complained, grinded on his nerves. Making love to them was more a chore than a reward.


    He would take Rilla tonight, send her home in the morning, and still have four girls left to juggle, including the newest one who would probably be a handful.


    He had no idea.

 Chapter 7

    Seri refused to come down for dinner, which took Brand aback. Often on the first night, girls didn¡¯t want to leave their room. Sometimes, a few weeks into their stay, a girl would suffer a fit of hysteria and lock themselves in. No one had refused to come down on the second night. This, Brand thought, was not simply nerves. This was an act of defiance, a test of his will.


    So be it. Still in the dining room, Brand signal a mirror to show his face across the waiting room. The dim light cast his face in shadow.


    ¡°Berta,¡± he said. ¡°Bring Serihilde down now.¡±


    Berta had been here second longest after Rilla. She had green eyes and blond hair and often seemed younger than her fifteen years. She was very nervous, as she scampered up the stairs.


    Brand shifted the view from the glass and focused on Seri¡¯s room. She had covered her mirror so that he could see nothing, but he could still listen in on her conversation.


    ¡°Seri,¡± Berta said in a quiet voice. ¡°It is past seven.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know.¡± Seri¡¯s voice was clear and steady. ¡°If he wants me to come down, he can fetch me himself¡ªbut if he does so, he¡¯ll need to use magic, for I will not be coerced with words.¡±


    Brand cracked his knuckles. There were always some girls who took his civility for weakness. Some girls who tried to test him.


    ¡°If you do not come down, we¡¯ll all starve,¡± Berta said.


    ¡°You won¡¯t starve,¡± Seri said. ¡°I brought food from the kitchen. It is humble, but filling. If the girls get hungry, tell them to come upstairs. There is plenty of food for everyone.¡±


    That little minx, Brand thought, more astonished than angry. Oh, she was devious, trying to turn the other girls against him. Leading a rebellion after one day.


    ¡°Would you like some bread?¡± Seri said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do this!¡± Berta said, in a high-pitched shriek. ¡°He¡¯ll get angry. This is the one rule you can¡¯t break. You¡¯ve seen what he can do.¡±


    ¡°I know very well what he can do. Let him do his worse.¡±


    ¡°He told me to fetch you. He¡¯ll punish me, too, if you don¡¯t come down. He¡¯ll punish us all.¡±


    Punish? Brand thought sourly. I¡¯ve never punished any of you. What is she babbling about? Granted, he ought to punish Seri. He couldn¡¯t let her defiance stand. And maybe Berta was lying to get Seri to come to dinner. Still, it irritated him that the girls should be here so long and not know him at all.


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    He passed his hand over the mirror and watched it turn to glass. He could storm into Seri¡¯s room in a rage and throw magic around, but he hated to use force. It made him feel like a tyrant. It made him feel weak. Instead, he adjusted his illusion to the face of his grandfather (the most intimidating man he knew) and threw open the double doors.


    The three remaining girls jumped in surprise.


    ¡°Brand, what¡ª?¡± Rilla began.


    ¡°Seri has invited us all to eat at her room. We will dine there.¡±


    He threw open the door to her turret and ascended the stairs. Brand burst into Seri¡¯s room. Berta, who had clasped her hands and looked to be begging, gave a yelp and dove behind a chair.


    ¡°Please,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt me. I¡¯m sorry, I tried.¡±


    Seri crossed her arms.


    She was sitting on the bed. She¡¯d pushed the various wines off her table and had used her tray to hold grapes, breads, cold sausages, and cakes. One of her pitchers was filled with stew.


    ¡°How nice of you to steal food from my kitchen,¡± Brand remarked coolly. ¡°A feast indeed.¡±


    He took the chair, placed it right up to Seri, and sat down inches across from her, staring her in the eye.


    ¡°Berta, serve the food to the other girls.¡±


    The room grew silent, except for the shuffle of Rilla, Lotte, and Ida entering the room. Brand waited for Seri to look away, but she did not. The silence grew. Brand leaned forward. He was not going to let her win. This was his house, not hers. And for all her bravado, he knew she was scared. Her shoulders and chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.


    ¡°I understand,¡± Brand said quietly, ¡°that there are women who like when men are rough with them. When they yell and curse and strike them. Is that the kind of men you favor? Brutes?¡±


    Seri¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°No, I like good men. Honest gentlemen. You seem to think that¡¯s what you are. You are not. You are the brute.¡±


    ¡°And you want me to display this for you?¡± he said. ¡°Is that your plan? To provoke me into screaming and yelling and throwing you to the ground. Would you derive some smug satisfaction from that scene?¡± He stood, looming over her. ¡°I won¡¯t lose my temper over you. I have other ways to deal with troublemakers.¡±


    She did look down then, but only briefly. Much to his surprise, she rose to her feet.


    ¡°I imagine it¡¯s too early for you to lose your temper,¡± she said. ¡°You will, eventually, and then you¡¯ll hurt me. Or maybe you won¡¯t, but still you¡¯ll hurt me. That is a guarantee. That has been set in motion, by you.¡± She jabbed her finger at him. ¡°That¡¯s why you are a brute. You may think you are not a rapist, because you do not tear off women¡¯s clothes. But if you hold a knife to their neck and tell them you will slit their throats if they do not sleep with you, is that not rape? For you that knife is magic. It doesn¡¯t make you any less evil.¡±


    Brand was speechless. He was actually sort of shaken. Did they really see him that way? His eyes flickered to Berta, who was hiding among the other girls, mouth agape. She¡¯d been scared of him, certainly. He looked at Rilla. Her face was blank. His gaze traveled to Lotte and Ida. They were staring at him. Waiting for him to respond.


    Brand squared his shoulders. ¡°You are a Lord¡¯s daughter,¡± he told Seri. ¡°Spoiled and selfish and na?ve. You have never felt a knife to your neck. I have given you a room, food, dresses, anything you desire. All I ask is for you sit with me politely for an hour in the evening. If you cannot do this, I will take away what I have given you. It is as simple as that.¡±


    ¡°What do I care for these things?¡± she said. ¡°You can take everything from me, but you will not take my soul. I will not yield it to you.¡±


    ¡°Get out of this room,¡± he said. ¡°You may stay in the kitchen while the rest of us dine, and sleep on the floor tonight.¡±


    ¡°It would be my pleasure,¡± she said and walked down the stairs.

 Chapter 8

    ¡°Rilla,¡± Brand asked quietly. ¡°Do you want me?¡±


    He had already taken her to his room and told her to undress. She had, and she was standing naked before him, waiting for him to touch her. She was beautiful, and he did like her, but Seri¡¯s words were starting to press into his ears, over and over. What she said about him being a rapist, holding a knife to girls¡¯ throat. He didn¡¯t like that image.


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± Rilla said. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for this moment all day.¡±


    ¡°Because if you don¡¯t want to do this¡ª¡±


    She pressed a finger to his lip. ¡°I do,¡± she whispered. ¡°I want this.¡±


    She kissed him, and he stopped asking after that. Rilla, at least, was not a virgin, which somehow helped absolve him of his guilt. It also meant she knew what she was doing. She peeled off layers of his clothing, but she did not peel off the illusion, which he wore no matter what. He appeared as what she liked best. To please her, to make her happy.


    Afterwards, as they lay in bed together, his right arm encircling her stomach and his left hand brushing the curls off her neck, he thought to himself that this was not rape. Of course not. It was seduction, something a country virgin clearly knew nothing about. He never told the girls he required them to sleep with him. They offered.


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    ¡°Rilla,¡± he murmured, as he stroked her neck. ¡°You¡¯re so lovely in the moonlight.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°Will you break the curse now?¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± he said tiredly. ¡°Oh. Yes.¡±


    He raised his left hand and made a twist in the air. Simple thing really, breaking a one-sided binding. Anyone could do it¡ªanyone with the slightest knowledge of magic. He felt the curse collapse, dissolve into air. The magic left Rilla¡¯s body. He put his hand back onto her neck.


    ¡°Is it done?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t turn into a dragon?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm.


    ¡°And tomorrow,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll take me back home?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to stay?¡± he asked, brushing his hand through her curls.


    There was a long pause.


    ¡°But the jewel¡­ how could I bring it to you, if we stay here?¡±


    His hand dropped from her hair.


    ¡°I¡¯m kidding, my darling. We¡¯ll leave first thing tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°You promise?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He rolled to his side, away from her.


    He shouldn¡¯t have asked her to stay, even in jest. One night together, and then it was done. It was like a contract, a bargain, a temporary binding. Conditions fulfilled and both parties left. That was how he wanted it. That was how he meant it to go.


    He¡¯d learned his lesson after Ailis.


    After she had¡­ after she had said¡­


    You liar! You said you¡¯d take me home. I did everything you told me to, and you still won¡¯t let me go! You ruined my life, you monster, you¡ª


    Brand shut his eyes.


    No.


    He wasn¡¯t repeating that.


    It wasn¡¯t good to keep girls too long. The longer they stayed, the more they ended up hurting him.

 Chapter 9

    God, he missed Rilla. She was so calm and level-headed, and as soon as she left, the whole damn place fell apart.


    There was a power void among the girls. In theory, the girl who had been here longest or perhaps the oldest girl ought to fill it. But Berta was a nervous, fluttering dormouse, and the oldest girl was now Seri. And she did fill the power void, but not in the way that Brand had wanted.


    Seri acted like being a servant was an honor. She slept in the kitchen near the fireplace, drew the water, worked the garden, made breakfast with the cook, learned all the servants¡¯ names, washed every single window in the castle, and sewed her own clothes. Which he learned about when he discovered her wearing a new apron out of his old tablecloth.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked angrily. ¡°You can¡¯t just tear up my things.¡±


    ¡°It was an old tablecloth with holes in it,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯d have thrown it out.¡±


    ¡°You could ask for new clothes,¡± he said. ¡°Or new material to make them, since you¡¯re so fond of sewing.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t require anything of you,¡± she said. ¡°And it is Ida who is fond of sewing, not me. She did the embroidery work.¡±


    This got under his skin. The fact that Ida, the quietest of the girls, had helped her only served to emphasize that Seri was gaining influence over the group. Also, it irritated him that he didn¡¯t know Ida liked sewing. She¡¯d been here a month and a half and had never asked for so much as a needle and thread.


    Of course, Lotte was the one who was most infatuated with Seri. She was always by her side, helping out in the garden, sneaking her books from the library (as if Seri couldn¡¯t have just gone in and picked one out). They were always outside together, presumably because there were no mirrors, and he couldn¡¯t listen to them as easily.


    Brand did, however, walk in on their conversations from time to time.


    ¡°But if they don¡¯t rescue us¡ª¡± Lotte was saying.


    ¡°They will. My uncle¡ª¡± Seri stopped as she saw him. She bristled, then resumed, ¡°My uncle is a great sorcerer. My father will rouse him, and he will find this tower and tear it to bits.¡±


    ¡°I have been doing this for years,¡± Brand pointed out. ¡°No one has come.¡±


    Seri ignored him. ¡°You see, Brand is not so powerful as he appears. He is young. I can tell by the way he disguises himself. This tower was built was by an ancestor of his, and he uses its spells. But by himself, he is just one man, with a few paltry tricks. He has little power.¡±


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    ¡°Says the girl whose father was born without magic,¡± Brand said. ¡°The girl whose castle is rotting because no one can maintain the charms. Whose supposedly powerful uncle hasn¡¯t been heard of in years. If he¡¯s even alive, he¡¯ll be old and senile and unpracticed in the art. Is this who you¡¯d place your faith in?¡±


    Finally, Seri turned to face him. ¡°I place my faith in God and in my family,¡± she said tartly. ¡°I place no faith in you.¡±


    She was so infuriating. Every time he tried to say a single word to her, she turned it into an argument. And since she would not follow him into his private room, they were arguing right out in public, where all the girls could hear.


    ¡°Who do you think you are to give orders in my house?¡± he yelled.


    ¡°I live here, too.¡±


    ¡°You live here at my expense!¡±


    ¡°I live here because you abducted me!¡±


    ¡°Here we go again.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. You prefer to ignore that fact. Because it¡¯s inconvenient to the lie that you have erected for yourself. That we are all your happy little wives, meant to smile and clutch your hand¡ª¡±


    ¡°If you were my wife, I¡¯d divorce you!¡±


    ¡°Then do it. Send me back.¡±


    He said nothing.


    ¡°No?¡± she said. ¡°Then I will continue to live as rightly as I can in the trying circumstances presented to me.¡±


    ¡°Trying circumstance?¡± he snapped. ¡°You have no idea what the world is like! Everything you ever needed has always been provided for you, and all you ever had to do was ask. This place is no different from the place you came from, and no different from the place you¡¯ll end up.¡±


    ¡°You keep me in captivity, and you think¡ª¡±


    ¡°You have never been free!¡± Brand shouted. ¡°Never! All your life, you¡¯ve lived at your father¡¯s pleasure and did as he said, and one day, your father will give you to another man, a strange man, who will take you his house and there you will live at his pleasure and do as he says. Your whole life is moving from one cage to the next, and you will never have a say in what cage you live in or who keeps you locked there!¡±


    Seri sucked in her breath and drew her arms into her chest. She tucked in her chin, looked to the side, and walked away.


    Brand realized he was shaking and a little out of breath. He¡¯d stung her with that remark, and for a moment, he felt triumphant. But he¡¯d also lost his temper, and he hated that. It made him feel out of control. Why was he arguing with her at all? Why did he keep arguing with her? All he wanted was for her to come down to dinner with him, like all the other girls did. Why was it so hard to get her to do something so simple?


    * * *


    Only Berta and Ida stood in the waiting room when the clock struck seven. Berta was jittering her leg and biting her fingernails, and Ida had a tense look on her face. Brand cast his reflection onto the mirrors and glared at them.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Lotte?¡± he said.


    Berta bit her fingers and murmured something into her hands.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not coming,¡± Ida said.


    Brand burst through the doors. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not our fault,¡± Berta cried. ¡°Seri¡ª¡±


    ¡°Lotte wants to be a servant like Seri?¡± Brand said. ¡°Is that it?¡±


    He was mad now. Seri was undermining everything he¡¯d built. She was going to have his whole tower working against him before long. He looked at Ida and saw a noticeable change her, too¡ªsomething challenging in her eyes. Well, no more.


    ¡°If you all want to act like servants, you can all be servants. There will be no supper tonight.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Berta said.


    He slammed the doors shut.

 Chapter 10

    The next morning Brand dismissed the servants and left the tower. The girls could run the place on their own. Let them figure out how to start the fires, draw water, kill livestock, chop wood, tend the garden, and cook. He knew them; they were soft ladies. As soon as they were deprived of their comforts, they¡¯d throw up a fuss. Then Seri would have to deal with her own rebellion. See how she liked that.


    Revenge felt good, he thought as he flew from his tower. He¡¯d forgotten the feel of it. Kidnapping these girls had gotten so routine, he almost forgot why he did it. It wasn¡¯t for the company. Female companionship was easy to find.


    At the nearest free town, Brand dropped his illusion and let his true form show. He was not unattractive to look at¡ªone might even say handsome. More than that, he knew how to talk to ladies, when it suited him. He had been well-taught, he thought bitterly. But he was tired of women and their cattiness. So instead, he visited taverns and sought the company of men.


    He didn¡¯t talk much, but he was happy to be around them and hear them complain about the women in their lives. It was good to have a few days away, to drink, to relax, to clear his head.


    Revenge, he mused. It had grown stale. But why?


    The first few years, his targets had been personal. He¡¯d revisited all the places he and his mother had begged for help and been rejected. He took the daughters of those who had wronged him and used them to gain access to their castle¡¯s sacred treasures (for only ones of the bloodline were immune from protection spells). He¡¯d felt good robbing them of magic. And if the lord¡¯s daughters turned out to be whores, well, he felt a secret delight in that as well.


    But eventually, he¡¯d run out of those targets and now he was just looking for any girl whose family tree was questionable. Any girl who might harbor a secret lineage. The number was surprisingly high. But that¡¯s what made revenge so complicated. He didn¡¯t know who he was seeking revenge against.


    The heir of Willmarr of Castle Elbe-Antona.


    Brand could hear his grandfather¡¯s voice in his head. It pulsed like a migraine. Brand took another swing of his beer. How often had he heard his grandfather repeat the name, beating it into his memory, so that Brand couldn¡¯t forget it if he tried.


    You must find Willmarr¡¯s heir.


    All well and good, if the whole family hadn¡¯t gone into hiding. Abandoned their castle, forged new names, married into castles with pristine lineages. Even his grandfather, after years of trying, hadn¡¯t been able to root them out.


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    It will only take one girl; and then we shall be able to find the entire family.


    The dragon curse would reveal his target, sooner or later. Until then, there wasn¡¯t much for Brand to do except wile away his time and sort out the good girls from the bad.


    And to be fair, most of the girls he stole weren¡¯t really bad. Some were annoying. Even Seri, for all her pride and stubbornness, was at least honest and stuck by what she said. Under different circumstances, he might have liked her.


    Brand sighed. Why was it that most of the bad girls, the worst ones, came from his enemy¡¯s lands, early on in his quest for revenge? Had he and his mother just been unlucky? Had his judgement been skewed by anger? Brand ordered another beer. Maybe he was too lenient now, too quick to forgive the girl¡¯s faults and let them have run of his castle. He ought to be like his grandfather, ruthless and iron-fisted.


    No. Brand drank down his beer. He¡¯d never be like that man.


    His grandfather had kept Brand and his mother locked in an invisible tower in the Abnoba Woods for the first thirteen years of his life. They were hidden from the world, his mother¡¯s name blotted from the family tree and Brand¡¯s name never written upon it. His grandfather, Lord Arnaud, visited them infrequently. When he did, it was only to drill Brand on magic and lecture him on revenge. If Brand failed in his studies, his punishment would be swift and painful, for his grandfather did not hesitate to use bindings and force.


    But worse than his grandfather¡¯s punishment was his neglect. There were no servants, no doctors, no help whatsoever, and the supplies that came every three months were often inadequate. Once Lord Arnaud died, the spells that kept them rapped in the tower lifted. Brand thought it would get better. It did¡ªbut not by much. He and his mother had nowhere to go, and Brand had no notion of how to interact with people, no concept of how the world worked.


    Brand had survived. His mother had not.


    I should put flowers on her grave, he thought. He¡¯d missed the last anniversary of her death. Four years now. He thought about her less, but it still hurt whenever he did, a needle in his heart.


    What sort of flowers should I bring?


    His mother loved flowers. All flowers¡ªwild or cultivated, it made no difference to her. Brand typically went with tulips, because they were rare and expensive, but for some reason, he was thinking of white lilies. He didn¡¯t know why, until he remembered that Seri was picking them. The last thing he¡¯d seen before he¡¯d lifted her over her house was a bouquet of them, fallen from her basket and sinking in the mud.


    Lilies would be nice, he thought.


    But it was too far to visit his mother¡¯s grave right now. He¡¯d go in September¡ªby then, the last of the girls would be gone. So would the lilies. He¡¯d buy his mother whatever flowers he could find and head back to the Abnoba Woods. Back to hiding in his tower, back to researching family trees, back to repeating the cycle of kidnapping and curses.


    Unless, of course, I find her. Willmarr¡¯s heir.


    The only one whose curse I can¡¯t break¡ªat least not in the usual way.


    Brand downed his beer and settled his tab. He doubted he¡¯d be that lucky.

 Chapter 11

    Brand had thought he¡¯d stay away two days, three at most.


    He had not thought to be out ten days. But he¡¯d run into a bounty hunter, one of those foreign magicians for hire. No doubt some kidnaped girl¡¯s family had wanted revenge. Fortunately, Brand had spotted him first and flooded the area with illusions. Few people could see through his magic, and fortunately, this bounty hunter was not one.


    Unfortunately, the bounty hunter continued to show up, even as Brand was buying supplies and trying to interview new servants. Brand had no intention of leading an assassin to his tower, so he had to run from town to town, leading the assassin away. The last few days, he¡¯d laid low, until he was sure it was safe to return.


    Brand was worried about the girls. He¡¯d left them without any servants, and he knew before he left that food had been running low. It might have run out by now. To top it off, Berta¡¯s grace period was up. She was going to start transforming into a dragon, and he hadn¡¯t even discussed terms with her.


    He arrived home late in the afternoon, flew the supplies over the walls, and re-strengthened its defenses, just in case. He had no idea what state the tower would be in when he arrived. Brand was tired and hungry and hoped the chaos would be minimal.


    He rolled out his rug and hovered over the walls. As he peered over, he noticed the girls had opened the crates and were bringing some of the supplies into the kitchen. Berta, however, saw him and uttered a cry. As soon as he landed, she threw herself at his feet.


    ¡°You¡¯re home. We missed you so much. We¡¯re sorry for any ways in which we¡¯ve been obstinate or disobedient. Seri will listen now, and I will do whatever you say.¡± She clutched his legs. ¡°Please, do not leave us again.¡±


    Brand stifled a sigh. Of course, it would be Berta to break down¡ªthe one who was most broken to begin with. He glanced at Seri, but she looked away.


    ¡°Get up,¡± he told Berta, as gently as he could. ¡°We¡¯ll talk at dinner tonight. It might not be much of a dinner,¡± he added, looking at Seri, ¡°but it will be food. How long since you¡¯ve eaten?¡±


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    ¡°The stores ran out two days ago,¡± Seri said quietly. ¡°We killed all the chickens.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll buy us more. Leave that alone,¡± he told Ida as she reached for a heavy sack of flour. ¡°I¡¯ll bring it in. Go¡­ go get ready for dinner. And help Berta compose herself.¡±


    He lifted the dry goods (via magic) into the cellar and stacked them. He brought out sausage, cheese, rolls, and mustard, as well as some wine for their dinner, but as he came into the kitchen, he found Seri in the kitchen kneading flour on the kitchen table, her sleeves rolled up.


    ¡°Why am I not surprised to find you not getting dressed?¡± he said wearily.


    ¡°I have to get tomorrow¡¯s bread ready. It needs to rise before I bake it.¡±


    ¡°You learned to cook quickly.¡±


    ¡°I knew before I came here.¡± She wiped sweat from her brow with her arm. ¡°I was expected to manage a household and that meant filling in wherever help was needed. I know how to do everything. I just can¡¯t do it well.¡±


    He nodded and looked around. The kitchen was clean, with herbs drying, dishes scoured, and the fireplace at a nice glow. It was a hard thing to manage, he knew, and he was sort of impressed that she pulled it off.


    ¡°Are you still sleeping in the kitchen?¡± he asked.


    She hesitated, and then said, ¡°I moved back to my old room in the turret while you were gone. But I can move back¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Stay in your room. Please. I wish it.¡±


    Seri thumped on her dough. She didn¡¯t refuse him outright. She didn¡¯t argue with him. Brand took it as a good sign.


    ¡°Will you join us for dinner?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°I will join you and dress and speak to you in your private room, as you require.¡± She ground her teeth. ¡°But that is all. The girls convinced me that such a small compromise is no mortal sin. And I can¡¯t conscience them all going hungry on my account.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± he said, but felt the need to add, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to be so late. I wasn¡¯t trying to starve you into submission. Circumstances delayed me, that¡¯s all.¡±


    She said nothing but began to cut the dough into loaves.


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe me?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t leave me to finish this bread, I won¡¯t have time to dress.¡±


    He left her. He also had to get ready.


    As he washed and combed his hair, he thought about what a waste it was. No one would see him, not the real him. Still, he did it, more out of habit than anything else. Brand thought about different faces to wear, and decided to be an old gentleman he¡¯d admired, his old master, the one who¡¯d instructed him in art. His master could be strict at times, but he was always fair.


    When Seri came inside the dining room that night, Brand almost didn¡¯t recognize her. She was wearing a white gown and had her hair clumsily put up with pearl combs. He absolutely hated how she looked in this delicate, flouncing dress. It didn¡¯t suit her. She looked uncomfortable and unhappy. But he saw that she¡¯d missed a smudge of flour on her brow, and he smiled.


    He¡¯d bring her new dresses soon.

 Chapter 12

    All throughout dinner, Berta had been shivering and sucking in long breaths and drinking more wine than was good for her, especially given how little of the food she ate. Fortunately, dinner was short. No servants, no fancy courses, just bread and meat. Simple. Everyone was pretty quiet. Brand drank several goblets of wine, but it did not make him feel like chatting.


    ¡°All right, you¡¯re free to go,¡± he said at last, waving his hand. ¡°If you¡¯re still hungry, take something upstairs with you. There¡¯s more in the pantry. Tonight, I¡¯m going to talk to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Can I speak to you tonight?¡± Seri asked. ¡°I have something pressing on my mind.¡±


    Well, that was a surprise. She volunteered?


    ¡°No,¡± Brand said. ¡°I need to speak to Berta tonight. Her grace period is up.¡±


    ¡°Grace period?¡±


    ¡°Three months of grace, and then the dragon transformation begins.¡±


    Seri was silent for a moment. ¡°Can I speak to you tomorrow then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s fine. Good night, everyone. Berta come with me.¡±


    He helped her from her chair. He¡¯d drunk a lot, but she¡¯d drunk more and was visibly wobbling, so he took her by the shoulders and steered her into his room.


    It was dark and cold and rather dusty. Brand had locked his private room before he left, and no one had been in it for several days. Brand sighed. He brought the candelabra in from the dining room and set it on a table, but the room was still dim.


    ¡°Sit down, please,¡± he told Berta. ¡°I¡¯d offer you some wine, but I think you¡¯ve drunk enough. I¡¯m going to start the fire.¡±


    It bothered him that he couldn¡¯t just snap his fingers and start a flame, but combustion was entirely different from moving objects, and sadly, he¡¯d never learned it. He¡¯d have to light his hearth the old-fashioned way, which he hated to do in front of the girls. It made him seem so¡­ well, mundane.


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    ¡°Here we go,¡± he said, when he¡¯d gotten a flame going. He took a reed and began lighting more candles around the room. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about the state of this¡ªBerta! What are you doing?¡±


    Berta was already halfway undressed. Her gown was on the floor, and she was in her undergarments, fumbling at the laces of her bodice and sniffling and shaking the whole time.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Berta gulped. ¡°You said¡­¡±


    ¡°I said to sit down. Here. Cover up.¡±


    He threw her a blanket.


    Berta sank into the couch, pulled the blanket to her chest, and burst into tears.


    Brand rubbed his head. Well, this was going great. He took a few deep breaths, pulled out a handkerchief, sat down beside her, and offered it to her.


    ¡°Berta,¡± he said, as gently as he could. ¡°Why are you crying? We¡¯re only going to talk.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she sobbed. ¡°No, I don¡¯t want to talk. I want you to take me. I¡¯m ready, I am, I¡¯m just¡ªI need more wine.¡± She reached out with her hand.


    ¡°No wine.¡± He pushed down her hand. ¡°You¡¯re already sobbing¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, wiping her tears.


    ¡°¡ªand we haven¡¯t even spoken about what I want.¡±


    ¡°I know what you want. You want the amulet in my castle. The one that holds our magic. If I sleep with you tonight, you¡¯ll undo the curse. Once I get you the amulet, you¡¯ll let me go, right?¡±


    Brand stared at her. He blinked.


    ¡°Berta,¡± he said softly. ¡°Did someone tell you this?¡±


    He was trying to keep himself calm, to not scare her, but apparently it didn¡¯t work, because her eyes went wide and then she let out a wail and toppled in on herself. Brand took a deep breath and stood up, walking around the room. Patience, he needed patience.


    ¡°Who told you?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve messed it all up, I¡¯m so sorry¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop apologizing. Stop crying. Pull yourself together and answer my question. Who told you all that?¡±


    It took several minutes, but Berta managed to choke down her sobs.


    ¡°Rilla,¡± she said. ¡°She said that¡¯s what you want. But¡­ but she said it has to look like our idea. That we want to¡­ to be with you.¡±


    The wine lurched inside his stomach. Brand stood up and leaned against the wall.


    Rilla? She¡¯d told Berta to do this? Rilla, who had come to him and held his hand and kissed him. That was just an act? She just wanted to get away. Of course, she wanted to get away, he knew that, but he had asked her, he¡¯d specifically said she didn¡¯t have to¡ªor he¡¯d tried to say that. Had he said that? No, because she¡¯d kissed him. She¡¯d undressed him. He hadn¡¯t made her do any of those things. If she didn¡¯t want to be with him, all she had to do was say so.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Berta said.


    ¡°Rilla told you this exactly?¡± he asked. The sound of her name was like a thud inside his stomach.


    ¡°Well, not like that, but¡­ I mean, it¡¯s not like she could, there are mirrors everywhere. But I figured it out. That is¡­ that is what you want?¡±


    Brand squeezed his hands into fists.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said. ¡°Go to your room, Berta. Get some sleep.¡±


    ¡°But the dragon¡ª¡±


    Brand waved his hand. ¡°The curse is gone. I will bring you home tomorrow. Now go to bed.¡±


    Berta sniffled. She gathered up her fallen clothes and left the room.

 Chapter 13

    Brand didn¡¯t sleep that night. He tossed and turned in his bed, all the while getting angrier and angrier. At Rilla, at all the other girls who seduced him¡ªagainst their will, apparently. If they didn¡¯t care for him, why not tell him so?


    All women are liars, he decided. They smile and they lie, and they make you into fools.


    And this, inevitably, brought up all the bad memories of Lady Genoveva and how she had smiled and lied and said time and time that she loved him, that she never would leave him¡ªand then discarded him as soon as his mother died, as soon as he stopped being ¡°charming.¡± He¡¯d sworn this would never happen again, that he¡¯d never let a woman bind him and toy with him and destroy him. But here he was, and he set the rules, it was his house, his magic, and still somehow, they made him feel terrible, used and foolish.


    He raged and raged, until he fell asleep. He woke early and took Berta back¡ªalmost forgot to take the amulet, his brain was in such a fog¡ªand on the way back from his treasury deposit, he passed Rilla¡¯s castle.


    He nearly stopped.


    He didn¡¯t. That was a rule he gave himself. Never go back. Never. It was stupid and dangerous, and he shouldn¡¯t even be thinking of it, but he desperately wanted to ask her, ¡°Did you really kiss me and hold me and let me inside you, all because you thought I held a knife to your throat?¡±


    And why did it matter if she thought so or not? He shouldn¡¯t care what she thought about him¡ªwhat any of them thought. God, even under these circumstances, girls still wreaked havoc on his mind. He had all the magic, all the power, all the control, how did they always make him feel so damn helpless?


    Brand stormed back inside, only to realize he hadn¡¯t hired more servants or bought more chickens or done any shopping at all. He had no intention of doing so today. Instead he stomped by the kitchen and, glancing through the window, noticed that the girls were making pies. Ida was cutting the dough and Lotte was whispering some joke that set Ida giggling. Then Lotte saw him and nudged Ida. She stopped laughing and went still.


    Just like that, all his anger turned into smoke, and in its absence came this deep, sucking void, a gaping hole. Brand shut his eyes. Nobody wanted him, and now it seemed like nobody needed him, either. He was a stranger in his own home. Brand went into the kitchen and saw Seri opening the oven.


    ¡°Check the pies in a half an hour. Not before, or they won¡¯t cook.¡± Seri glanced at Brand. ¡°You took Berta home?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said.


    ¡°Good.¡± Seri closed the oven. ¡°Did you want something from us?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t buy chickens.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Or hire servants.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve survived this long without them.¡±


    ¡°Is that for dinner?¡± he asked, indicating the oven.


    Seri looked away. ¡°We didn¡¯t know when you¡¯d be back.¡±


    ¡°I told you I¡¯d speak to you tonight, did I not?¡± Brand said. ¡°Despite what you think of me, I do keep my word.¡±


    * * *


    ¡°I didn¡¯t touch her, you know.¡±


    It was after dinner, and they were in his private room. The pies had been delicious. Brand was surprised Seri had offered him any at all, given how sullen and quiet she was. Even now, she sat rigidly in her chair, jaw clenched, saying nothing, though she had been the one to request this meeting. The way she looked at him was a mixture of hatred and disgust.


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    ¡°Berta,¡± he clarified. ¡°She was shaking and crying, and I¡¯m not in the habit of bedding frightened, sobbing girls. I¡¯m not a savage, you know.¡±


    Her expression didn¡¯t change.


    Brand took a sip of wine.


    ¡°What did Rilla say about me, the first day you met?¡±


    ¡°That dinner was at seven and you expected us to be there.¡±


    ¡°And after that?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see her much the next day.¡±


    Brand put his goblet down and stepped closer. ¡°What do the other girls say about me?¡± he asked.


    Seri gritted her teeth. ¡°Right now, they tell me that you can be kind when you are pleased, and that I should try harder to please you.¡±


    ¡°And what did they say pleases me?¡±


    ¡°In my case, shutting my mouth.¡±


    He laughed, but only briefly.


    ¡°Anything else?¡± he asked darkly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure there are other things, but silence is all I¡¯m prepared to give you.¡±


    ¡°What do they say I want in exchange for their release?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask. It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m not going to do it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d rather be a dragon.¡±


    ¡°Better a dragon than a whore,¡± she shot back.


    He winced.


    She pressed her lips together.


    Brand put his hand upon the game table. ¡°I didn¡¯t tell the girls they needed to sleep with me. I never said it was a condition of their release.¡±


    ¡°You implied it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the same thing!¡±


    He swung his hand, knocking over the game table. It crashed into the floor with a loud bang. Seri sat very still upon her chair, clenching her skirt. Her chin was tucked down, her lips pressed together in a hard line.


    Brand rubbed his hand against the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, he felt very tired.


    ¡°Is everyone afraid of me?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Except you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid,¡± she said.


    He didn¡¯t believe that. If she believed he ¡®d hurt her, why did she provoke him? You didn¡¯t poke bear, unless you knew the bear had no teeth. He stared at the fallen game table. All show, no force, that was him. He wondered if the other girls saw it, too.


    ¡°What did you want to talk to me about?¡± he asked.


    ¡°We ran out of food,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°You came to scold me?¡±


    ¡°You said you didn¡¯t mean for it to happen. That you were delayed.¡±


    ¡°I was.¡±


    ¡°We were trapped in here.¡± Seri looked down at her hands, knotted atop her skirt. ¡°What happens to us, if you leave and don¡¯t come back? If you get delayed again? If you get killed?¡±


    ¡°If I get killed, the tower¡ª¡± He almost said that the tower¡¯s defenses would drop, letting them escape. But he didn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t want to have more people trying to kill him.


    ¡°I have plans,¡± he said. ¡°I promise, I will take care of you.¡±


    ¡°What plans?¡± she pressed.


    ¡°Plans.¡±


    She tilted her head and stared to the side, like she didn¡¯t believe him. She stood up.


    ¡°Good night, Brand.¡±


    ¡°Seri, don¡¯t leave.¡±


    ¡°I said my piece, and now there¡¯s nothing more to say.¡±


    She headed for the door, but Brand tugged on it, and the door swung shut.


    She whirled on him. ¡°I have nothing to say to you!¡±


    ¡°Well, I do,¡± he said. ¡°You are rude and self-righteous and stubborn, and I can already tell you plan to fight me the whole time you¡¯re here. So before we get too far into this war, can we discuss the rules of engagement?¡±


    She crossed her arms. She didn¡¯t sit, but she didn¡¯t turn her back on him, either.


    ¡°What terms do you have in mind?¡±


    He stepped up to her, looking her in the eyes. They were very dark, almost black in this room, and specks of candlelight glittered in her pupils.


    ¡°You¡¯re honest,¡± he said. ¡°And brave. The other girls admire you. They see you as a leader. I want you to tell them the truth about me.¡±


    She scoffed and rolled her eyes. ¡°Truth? You care about the truth?¡±


    ¡°I want them to feel safe.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say that we are. Right now, the only thing I can tell the girls for certain is that you haven¡¯t murdered anyone¡ªyet.¡±


    ¡°You can get to know me. I¡¯ll place a charm on this room. While we¡¯re in here, we both agree tell the truth.¡±


    ¡°Like before? You¡¯ll force me to answer every question you ask? I won¡¯t consent to that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll modify it, so that we¡¯re not compelled to answer. But any answers given will be true. That way we can trust each other.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you, and frankly, I don¡¯t want to. I am not going to be your spokesperson. I do not work for you.¡±


    She turned toward the door.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked her.


    She turned. ¡°I want you to end the curse and let us go home.¡±


    ¡°Well, if¡ª¡±


    ¡°No ifs. No conditions. Just let us go.¡±


    He sighed, walked past her, and opened the door for her.


    ¡°Think about my offer,¡± he said. ¡°Think on it as you sleep, Seri. It will be a lot easier for everyone if we learn to get along.¡±

 Chapter 14

    Principle was one thing. Hunger was another.


    Two days without food, and before that, nothing but vegetables from the garden, bone broth, and whatever barley, flour, and rye they could scrape from the pantry barrels. Seri had never known hunger like she had in those last few days of Brand¡¯s absence. She had fasted before, but it was not the same. Here there was no feast awaiting her at the end of the day, just endless hours of uncertainty. Was Brand to return? Would he bring food for them to freely eat? Or would he deny them until Seri apologized and did as he commanded?


    ¡°If he¡¯s ever coming back,¡± Ida said. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s been killed.¡±


    They were sitting in the garden, looking at the vegetable garden with glum impatience. They¡¯d eaten the last of the spring onions and were waiting for something to grow. A sparrow darted over the wall. Seri stared at it enviously. It was so easy for the bird to fly away.


    ¡°If he¡¯s dead, are we stuck here forever?¡± Lotte asked. She was lying on her back, chomping on a sprig of rosemary.


    ¡°He¡¯s not dead,¡± Berta said, arms wound tight across her chest. ¡°He¡¯s watching through the mirrors, waiting for Seri to apologize, to tell him how wrong she was. Meanwhile, we¡¯re all being punished because of you.¡±


    She glared.


    ¡°He¡¯s the one at fault,¡± Seri began. ¡°A good man would never¡ª¡±


    ¡°A good man?¡± Berta yelled, and quickly covered her mouth. ¡°He is a good man,¡± she said, lowering her head. ¡°An excellent man. But you test him. He must act in a way that goes against his inclinations, because you are being stubborn and rude, like a spoiled child.¡±


    Seri shook her head. Brand wasn¡¯t even here, and Berta was defending him, justifying his actions, praising him. He¡¯d completely conquered her mind, and it had only been a few months. Did he do this with every girl he kidnapped? Reshape them, like a sculptor with clay, not with rough, violent blows, but with a soft hand and constant, relentless pressure?


    ¡°He took us,¡± Seri reminded her. ¡°He¡¯s at fault. What have I done to him? He¡¯s angry because I don¡¯t obey him. He¡¯s not my father or my husband or a minister¡ªno man that I owe obedience to.¡±


    ¡°We know you won¡¯t sleep with him, Seri,¡± Ida said tiredly. ¡°No one¡¯s asking you to do that.¡± She sat in the shade, embroidering, but her hand was slow. ¡°But you could join us for dinner. Grant him one little concession¡ª¡±


    ¡°I am not going to concede him my principles,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°So we all go hungry for your principles?¡± Ida asked.


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    ¡°If I yield to him one thing, it will be another, and another, and another, until I become¡­¡± She wanted to say like Berta, but she kept her mouth shut. ¡°¡­until I¡ªuntil we all¡ªbecome pretty little pets, to sit on his lap and dance for his amusement and beg for scraps at his table.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind being a pet, right now, if it gets us food,¡± Lotte muttered.


    ¡°We are not animals!¡± Seri yelled. ¡°We have souls. We have to choose what is right, to live in a way that is good. He is a thief. He wants to plunder our houses and our bodies. Not only that, he intends to make us act as accomplices. To corrupt us, body and soul. I won¡¯t become like him! I won¡¯t praise this evil man and say that he is right. I will not besmirch my honor¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Ida put down her sewing. ¡°So say nothing. Hold your tongue and be quiet. Sit with him at dinner, not because you approve of what he does, but because you want us to eat. We¡¯re all hungry, and we¡¯re all tired. Go fight him, if you must, but don¡¯t drag us into it.¡±


    ¡°He dragged you in, not me.¡±


    ¡°But we have no say in it, regardless,¡± Ida shouted, startling her. ¡°He says, ¡®You must,¡¯ and you say, ¡®I will not,¡¯ and you pit your wills against each other, but neither of you care what we want or how we suffer for it.¡±


    This made Seri pause.


    She hadn¡¯t thought of herself as being selfish. She¡¯d been trying to do what was right. But was it right to sacrifice these girls as well as herself?


    ¡°Berta,¡± Seri said. ¡°Do you suffer for my stubbornness?¡±


    Berta looked at the wall. ¡°I had a beautiful home, with a garden of roses, and a new dress for my wedding day, which I have never tried on. I have five sisters. I have never spent so much as a day apart from them. I have a father and mother who love me. I want to go home! I knew how to get home, until you ruined it! I¡¯m turning into a dragon now, because of you! Because you won¡¯t shut your mouth and say you¡¯re sorry!¡±


    ¡°Ida?¡± Seri whispered.


    ¡°You know what I think.¡±


    ¡°Lotte?¡±


    Lotte rolled on her stomach. ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± she said. ¡°You say it¡¯s wrong to steal and lie and give your body to a man who is not your husband, and I agree. But there is nothing wrong with sitting with him at dinner. Or smiling. Or dancing. Or staying quiet. We have souls, but we are not so different from animals. I¡¯d rather be a pet than be led to the slaughter.¡±


    Despair flowed through her. Seri knew, in this moment, that he had won, for he had put her in a situation where there was no right choice, only two wrong ones. She could stick to her principles and act as a tyrant to her friends. Or she could yield to him. And maybe yielding was no terrible thing¡ªnot yet¡ªbut to give in once, made it that much easier to give in again. If only she could make them understand.


    ¡°The longer we stand silent in his presence, the more we lose our will and fall prey to his.¡±


    ¡°Seri, you have a strong will,¡± Ida said tiredly. ¡°You, more than anyone else. can sit a single hour with Brand and not fall prey to his will.¡±


    But that was what they didn¡¯t understand. It was not a single hour, but every hour, every day. The tower, the rooms, the gardens¡ªall tainted by his presence. Her dreams¡ªtainted by his presence.


    She was not as strong as they thought. If she bent once, she could bend again.


    And yet, for their sake, she had to bend. Because it was not right to let them suffer for this. Seri hated that she had to make this decision, but she had no other choice. Because she did not act for herself. There were others to think of¡ªnot only her soul to worry about, but theirs as well.


    And not just souls. Her stomach roiled and ached. As stubborn as she was, she did not want to die. She did not want to be a martyr, not if she could avoid it. She had to live¡ªlong enough to see him defeated.


    So she¡¯d give him a concession. One, simple concession.


    In her heart, she knew it would not be her last.

 Chapter 15

    ¡°Think about my offer. Think on it as you sleep, Seri. It will be a lot easier for everyone if we learn to get along.¡±


    His words echoed in her brain that night, as she paced her dark room, biting her hands and trying will her heart into slowing down. He wanted honesty? For them to sit in his private room and speak truthfully whenever they were together. It was a strange offer¡ªmore of a concession from him, rather than from her. She was always honest, and he knew it. So why force himself to tell the truth?


    Of course, one might tell the truth and still deceive. But why make things harder for himself? Why bother with the spell at all?


    Why single her out?


    Why did he want her¡ªmore than any of the other girls¡ªto trust him?


    Trust him? It was a repulsive notion. Her whole being revolted at the thought. She wouldn¡¯t trust him now that she understood he wanted it. Anything he wanted, she would refuse, as much as she were able to. She would plant herself against him, at every opportunity she could. Her mind, at least, was free of him, and she intended to keep it that way.


    It would be nice, though, to know the truth.


    It would make it easier to understand him.


    Did he want her to understand him? Why? Seri bit her knuckle. Maybe it was another way for him to get under her skin, to manipulate her, to twist her and break her. Maybe he wanted her to always be thinking of him, constantly trying to figure him out.


    It was working.


    She kept thinking about statements he¡¯d made¡ªthat he hadn¡¯t meant to leave them for so long, that he hadn¡¯t slept with Berta. Was it true? Part of her wanted it to be true, because then she would feel¡­ not secure, not by any means. Just not terrified, every moment of every day.


    Could Brand really have some speck of human decency in him?


    * * *


    Brand went out the next morning and did not come back until noon. Seri had been looking through shelves in the small library, trying to find something in a language she could read, when Lotte sprang through the door.


    ¡°We have chickens again!¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Seri said. She drew up a thin green volume, and found it filled with carefully drawn plants and letters all in Greek. She put it back.


    ¡°And a maid. And a cook.¡±


    ¡°He must be tired of burnt bread.¡±


    ¡°And gifts.¡±


    Seri paused. ¡°For who?¡±


    ¡°For us, silly! Come and see.¡±


    Lotte grabbed Seri by the hand and pulled her into the hallway.


    Brand had set the gifts on the dining room table, like it was a feast. Or perhaps a merchant¡¯s stall. She noticed several bolts of rich cloth, spools of fine thread, and buttons. Ida ran her hand over the textiles, as Brand prattled on about the region and cost. Ida beamed at the gift. She even touched Brand¡¯s arm as she thanked him. Seri rolled her eyes.


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    ¡°Hello, Seri,¡± Brand said. ¡°Come to join us, I see.¡±


    ¡°Lotte¡¯s doing,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Thank you, Lotte. I have a new set of combs for you and some beautiful slippers. They¡¯re yours. You can bring them home with you, when it¡¯s time to leave.¡±


    Home. Seri thought of her own things as she looked over the presents. She did not have satin gowns or silver brushes, but what she had was her own. Quilts her mother made, furniture passed through the generations, her own private diary, a small portrait of her sister. She wondered if she¡¯d ever see her small treasures again.


    ¡°I have gifts for you, too, Seri,¡± Brand said. ¡°Some new dresses.¡±


    ¡°I really have no need¡ª¡± she began but stopped as he lifted them from off the table.


    They were not the elegant gowns he preferred them wear, but simple, modest dresses, rather like the one she wore. Except newer and of higher quality. She moved forward to examine more closely. He¡¯d bought her three dresses: one forest green, one midnight blue, and one ruby red. And with them were headdresses, bead jewelry, and boots.


    It was strange how the dresses affected her. They shouldn¡¯t affect her. He had money¡ªprobably from stealing¡ªand to buy these things were no great hardship. But they were beautiful. They were dresses she wanted to wear. Why would he get these for her? Was he rewarding her for her compliance? Persuading her into his latest scheme?


    ¡°I hope you like them,¡± Brand said, and there was a slight note of uncertainty in his voice. ¡°If not, feel free to modify them, as you like. Or tear them up as rags. But you do tend to wear the same dress over and over, so I thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why now?¡± she asked.


    He blinked. ¡°Because I didn¡¯t go shopping until this morning.¡±


    ¡°These aren¡¯t freely given. You want something.¡±


    ¡°Men with gifts always do,¡± he said. He leaned his head toward her, and whispered conspiratorially into her ear, ¡°Typically, men give women gifts in order to get the girl to like him.¡±


    ¡°But you aren¡¯t typical.¡±


    ¡°How nice of you to notice.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wicked and evil,¡± she clarified.


    ¡°You¡¯re full of compliments today.¡±


    Seri sighed. ¡°Are you trying to get me to agree to the truth spell?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see. You think this is a bribe. No,¡± Brand said. ¡°I intended to get you these gifts before then. Partially to apologize for my exceedingly long absence. Partially because I¡¯ve come to hate those ballgowns I picked out for you. You don¡¯t look like yourself in them, and yes¡ª¡± he added, as she began to open her mouth, ¡°¡ªI do realize the irony in me saying so.¡±


    He, of course, was wearing an illusion, dressed in the face of a plump older man with red cheeks. She still had no idea what he really looked like. At this point, it didn¡¯t really matter. The shifting visages were his appearance.


    Seri looked back at the gowns. ¡°If I must dress for dinner these dresses are¡­ fine,¡± she conceded.


    ¡°Good.¡± He smiled. ¡°I have one more surprise. It¡¯s outside.¡±


    He offered his arm. As usual, she refused to take it.


    Seri had no idea what she¡¯d see. The new chickens, perhaps? He opened the door, and Seri blinked into the sunlight. A gasp escaped her.


    In a cart propped up against the wall, were pots and pots overflowing with lilies. The lilies were of all shapes and colors: yellow and white and tiger-striped. Some were in full bloom, and some were merely fronds, but they were lilies, all.


    ¡°I remembered you were cutting lilies when I met you, and the garden needed some new flowers, so I thought¡ª¡± Brand stopped talking and peered at her. ¡°Seri? Are you crying?¡±


    Warm tears were trickling onto her cheeks. She couldn¡¯t help it. Lilies were her mother¡¯s favorite flower, and every time she saw them, she thought of her mother¡¯s grave, the one she tended every day. Seri hadn¡¯t thought much of her family¡ªshe couldn¡¯t¡ªbut now the memories flooded her. She¡¯d lost so much, even before she was kidnapped. Seri covered her face with her hand and stifled a sob.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Brand said in a low voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to upset you. I assumed you liked lilies, but if they cause you pain, I can remove them¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she yelled.


    She sniffed and tried to compose herself. As she removed her hand from her face, she noticed that Brand offered out a handkerchief. She took it from him and wiped her eyes.


    ¡°The flowers are beautiful,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Please don¡¯t take them away.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it.¡± He paused and added, ¡°I know this isn¡¯t your home, Seri, but I want you to be comfortable here. I want you to have something of your own. These are yours now, for you to enjoy.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Thank you,¡± she managed to say.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± he replied.

 Chapter 16

    Although Brand had hired a gardener, Seri decided to tend the lilies herself. She liked gardening. It gave her something to pour her energy into, a welcome distraction. If I can get something to grow, she thought, everything will be all right. I¡¯ll be all right. She¡¯d thought so as even a child and it still held true today.


    She wore her old dress in the garden, to work. It was nice to have a dress to wear when she wanted to get dirty and still have clean gowns to change into afterwards. She wore the forest green dress or midnight blue dress around the castle during the day and saved the ruby red one at night. That was the fanciest of the dresses he¡¯d bought her, made of velvet rather than wool. She suspected he liked the color on her. She was the only one of the girls to have a red dress.


    Brand didn¡¯t ask her to his private room much anymore. Instead, he asked Ida, who was getting near her three months, or else Lotte, who had been here longer than Seri. It was a relief to be able to withdraw peacefully into her chamber at night without speaking to him. But it wasn¡¯t as if Seri could avoid Brand completely. It was still his tower.


    He watched her. A lot. Today, for instance, when she was gardening, he sat on a chair only a few feet away, paging through one of his books. He wasn¡¯t really reading, though. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time, like a cat watching a bird.


    ¡°You like to garden,¡± he remarked.


    She sighed and stood up. ¡°And you like to watch me work.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m studying,¡± he said.


    ¡°Not from this book,¡± she said, and took it out of his hand.


    It was a bold thing to do, but he said nothing. Seri glanced over the pages and saw, as usual, few words, but painstakingly detailed drawings. The subject of the drawings disturbed her. It was eyes¡ªhuman eyes¡ªnothing but eyes, floating in paired rows along the page. There were marks and numbers beside them.


    ¡°What is this?¡± she asked.


    ¡°My studies,¡± he said, taking the book back from her. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s easy to create illusions? Humans are not easy to fool. Mess up a single detail, and even men with no magic will see that something is wrong.¡±


    ¡°So, when you create the illusions, you draw inspiration from these books?¡±


    ¡°I draw inspiration from real life. The illustrations help me understand the different pieces.¡±


    Seri studied Brand¡¯s face more closely. He¡¯d taken on the guise of a young scholar, pale and gaunt, with sunken cheeks. But there were other marks of individuality in the face. A crooked nose, a slight overbite, spots of acne on the chin. This could be a real person.


    Seri blinked. All the faces he¡¯d worn so far had been men. Could he conjure women as well?


    ¡°Do you make illusions of us?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°Want to see?¡±


    And before, she could answer, he cast his illusion.


    Seri jumped. He did not project the illusion onto himself, as he normally did, but sent it out, so that a woman appeared right in front of Seri. The woman smiled, with a slight spark in her eyes, and silently walked around Seri. She paused once, and looked at Brand from behind her long neck, a serene smile playing on her lips. The woman seemed solid, real¡­ and familiar.


    ¡°Rilla,¡± Brand said. ¡°Calm and graceful. Easy to get right.¡±


    He flicked his wrist and Berta appeared, biting her lip and wringing her hands, before folding her arms across her chest. Seri felt the hairs along her arm stand up. The resemblance was uncanny, and not just the facial features, but the facial tics, the body language.


    ¡°Berta was trickier,¡± Brand said, standing up. ¡°She had this constant nervous energy humming from under her skin. Always seemed to be moving. Now Katherine¡ª¡± A dark-haired beauty with a cat-like smile danced and swayed. ¡°¡ªshe was fun. She actually posed for me, which made it easier to capture her movements, but harder to capture her essence. Whereas Helga¡ª¡± A dull-looking girl with a frown blinked at Seri. ¡°¡ªI just never really figured out.¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± Seri said.


    The girls had begun to make a crowd. They continued to dance and blink and squirm, doing the same gesture over and over. And sometimes they laughed or moved their lips to talk, but they never made a sound. They were like dolls come to life, perfect in every detail and going through all the motions of life¡ªbut not alive. Not real.


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    Brand swished his hand and the illusions disappeared.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like them?¡± He sounded disappointed. ¡°I think they¡¯re good.¡±


    ¡°Do you do this with all the girls?¡± she asked, and her voice came out shaky.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And with me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m working on yours,¡± he said. ¡°I have your motions down, but not your expression. I can show you once I finish¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see it.¡± Seri balled her hands into fists. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be part of your collection.¡±


    Brand¡¯s eyes grew hard. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said, in a voice that sounded far from apologetic, ¡°but that¡¯s not up to you. I create what I want to create.¡±


    ¡°But why? What¡¯s the purpose of this?¡±


    ¡°Purpose? There is no purpose. I just like to do it.¡± Brand sat back down. ¡°Illusions, I¡¯ll admit, are not a popular form of magic. They require a good deal of skill and do not inspire much awe. But I like creating them. I¡¯m good at it, and I intend to get better. One day, I may even fool you.¡± He smiled.


    Seri rubbed her arms. ¡°I don¡¯t like you creating this¡­ this false image of me.¡±


    ¡°Most men create false images of women. The difference is you can see mine. All my memories squeezed into a single illusion¡­¡± His eyes went distant, and he sighed. ¡°Of course, real women change. That¡¯s why I never go back to see them again. One reason, anyway.¡±


    * * *


    Brand wore illusions like the richest of men wore clothes, changing them multiple times a day, according to mood and function. During the day, he favored older, wise-looking men, or scholarly faces, when he was reading. Every now and then, he¡¯d wear the face of a teenage boy, a sign he was feeling more playful.


    At dinner, he had a series of ¡°handsome men¡± that he brought out, typically between the ages of twenty and forty, with hair ranging in colors from black to silver. He had men with beards and men without, men who were broad-figured and men who were slender, men who had foreign look and men who were home-grown. In spite of the great diversity faces, Seri started to find them rather tiresome.


    Instead, she paid attention to what remained the same. His voice, for example. All his art was focused on what the eyes might see, but he could not control sound. The voice Brand used was probably his own. It was not a particularly remarkable voice¡ªnot deep, nor high, nor nasally¡ªbut it was articulate and energetic, and the more emotional he got, the quicker he spoke. When he spoke slowly, it was a warning of danger.


    She also noticed that, whatever disguise he wore, his height remained the same, about 5¡¯8¡±, or about four inches taller than her. This, she guessed, was his real height.


    The third thing that never changed¡ªand this was the hardest thing to recognize¡ªwas his body language. The way he tilted his head, how his eyes roamed, the tapping of his fingers, how he clicked his tongue against his teeth. The way he carried himself. Granted, as an old man, he would affect slower, more ponderous movements¡ªbut only when he stopped to think about it. Get him talking and he¡¯d move quicker, add expressive flourishes, hold his head high with jaunty confidence.


    Seri guessed that he was in his mid-twenties and in good health. He was too energetic to be older than thirty, and moreover, there was something about him that was not quite secure. He drew confidence from his actions, not from deep within, a mark of a younger man. Seri also guessed, that if she were to see his face, it would not be hideous or deformed or very much remarkable.


    ¡°It¡¯s not really much to go on, is it?¡± Lotte said. ¡°Five-foot eight man of twenty-five years with an ordinary face¡ªif he ever chooses to wear it. We don¡¯t even know his hair color. How will your uncle ever find him?¡±


    Brand was playing a card game with Ida, leaving Seri and Lotte free to conspire over their escape. Seri was weeding her lilies while Lotte attempted to sketch Brand¡¯s various faces. They looked crude and far from accurate.


    ¡°We have more information than we think,¡± Seri said. ¡°We know he¡¯s from a powerful family.¡±


    ¡°But which one?¡± Lotte asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Who specializes in illusions? Anyone?¡±


    Lotte shrugged.


    ¡°He can do bindings¡ªwhich anyone can do¡ªand truth spells, which I also think are fairly ordinary. But the dragon transformation curse seems like it could be a family signature spell.¡±


    ¡°Transformations seem notoriously difficult,¡± Lotte admitted. ¡°If the spell is real. Do you think that he¡¯s making it up, tricking us?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Seri said. ¡°He put some sort of curse on us, I know that much.¡±


    She could still feel it, sitting in her stomach, like an egg about to hatch.


    ¡°What else do we know?¡± Lotte asked, looking over her list.


    ¡°Not a lot that¡¯s useful.¡± Most of what Seri had learn had to do with preferences and tastes. That he preferred silver to gold, sweet wines to dry, board games to dice. Hardly useful in helping her family track him down and save her.


    And more and more, it dawned on her someone would have to track him down. As powerful as her uncle was, breaking through an ordinary sorcerer¡¯s tower was terribly difficult. But Brand¡¯s castle, she guessed, was an ancestry tower, infused with magic from previous generations. She did not know what spells they contained, but they¡¯d be strong and tied to his bloodline. And Brand, while probably inexperienced, was at least competent. There was a reason he was never attacked.


    It would be easier for her uncle to confront Brand when he was out roaming the world, as it were. But the disguises he wore, these illusions, were an excellent form of protection. How could her uncle find him? No one even knew what he looked like.


    This was why she was trying to piece together his portrait, frustrating though it was. Any detail she could root out might be important. The more she could learn, the more clues she could hand to her rescuers.


    ¡°How do we get this list to them?¡± Lotte asked. ¡°Do we tie it to a bird¡¯s leg and send it over the wall?¡±


    ¡°The bird wouldn¡¯t know where to take it.¡± Seri chewed her lip. ¡°I hate to say it, but the best chance we have is if one of us gets out. That girl who escapes can deliver a message to the other girls¡¯ families. Then we can be rescued.¡±


    ¡°Do you think he actually keeps his promise?¡± Lotte asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Seri said.


    You would, if you agree to the truth spell, a voice in her head chided her, but she pushed that thought away. She did not need a truth spell. She could puzzle him out on her own.

 Chapter 17

    ¡°Tell me about your uncle?¡± Brand said.


    ¡°My uncle?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°The one you claim is going to tear me to pieces.¡±


    It was night and they were in his private room, playing one of his foreign board games, one she was terrible at. It was easier than having a conversation. They had not spoken¡ªaside from remark on the game play¡ªuntil out of the blue, this question. Seri felt her stomach twist into knots.


    ¡°My uncle is powerful,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s all you need to know.¡±


    ¡°Maternal or paternal uncle?¡± he asked.


    Seri glanced at him. Brand was looking at the board, making a show of contemplating the pieces, as if the game enraptured him. She knew it did not. He could beat her in his sleep; she was pretty sure she was already losing. This conversation was the real game. Seri swallowed and looked back on the board.


    ¡°I feel I¡¯m going to lose,¡± she said. ¡°Though I don¡¯t see how.¡±


    ¡°My trap is sprung. You¡¯ll see it soon enough.¡± He clinked the pieces. ¡°You know, I had a powerful uncle, too. Several, in fact. All on my mother¡¯s side. And my grandfather was more powerful still. I never knew my uncles, but my mother assured me they could do wonderous enchantments. It didn¡¯t help. They all died, anyway.¡±


    Seri stared at him. His voice was flat. She tried to read the intention in his eyes, but it was so hard, with that strange face.


    He was no longer feigning interest the board, but rather watching her reaction very carefully. His face this evening was a man about thirty with a thin brown beard and brown eyes. One of the ¡°handsome men,¡± she¡¯d thought, but less handsome than most. Yet also, more detailed. One eye drooped slightly and there was a faint scar across his lip, well hidden under his mustache hairs.


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    The face looked vaguely familiar. Not that she had seen it before, but that she had seen another close like it. That face he wore when he was angry, the face of the old man with the white hair and dark eyes. There was something sinister and powerful about that old man. But the two faces¡ªthe old man and this one¡ªcould be related. Father and son.


    Or uncle and grandfather.


    The revelation hit in a flash of inspiration. Of course. He modeled his illusions after real people. Why not his family? The knots¡ªmore like snakes at this point¡ªcoiled in Seri¡¯s stomach. Why was he showing her this? Why hint at his true identity?


    Brand squinted. ¡°What are you thinking?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°No. Something has changed. You realized something. What?¡±


    His voice had slowed. He wasn¡¯t angry, but he did sound insistent, and if she didn¡¯t answer, he would get angry¡ªand forceful. Brand was stubborn. Not about everything¡ªnot about most things. But when he insisted, it was hard to say no.


    So Seri answered. ¡°Do you wear the faces of your ancestors? Are they part of your collection?¡±


    Brand blinked and smiled. ¡°Ah. So that¡¯s it. You wondered if I somehow was able to craft a perfect illusion of my dead uncle¡¯s face, despite the fact that I¡¯ve never so much as seen a portrait of the man.¡± He leaned back haughtily. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ wait, if you¡¯ve never seen him¡­ you¡¯re lying,¡± Seri said uncertainly.


    ¡°Am I?¡±


    ¡°You need to be lying about something.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to lie about anything. I can keep things hidden, which is not quite the same.¡±


    ¡°What are you hiding?¡±


    ¡°I leave that to you to figure out.¡±


    He was trying to confuse her. Make her doubt. Frustrated, Seri went back to the game. Lying, hiding, telling the truth. Trying to figure him out was like seeing through a fog, with every partial reveal creating more mystery.


    ¡°At any rate,¡± Brand said softly, ¡°my family was murdered, my line wiped out¡ªor nearly wiped out. If this powerful uncle of yours took part in the slaughter, I shall be glad for him to come after me. It will give me a chance to have my revenge.¡±


    ¡°If it was him,¡± Seri asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t alive when it happened.¡±


    ¡°So you could be seeking revenge on the wrong person.¡±


    ¡°Possibly,¡± Brand said. ¡°I¡¯d rather punish the right person, but it¡¯s so hard to get anyone to own up to the deed. Who likes to call himself a murderer?¡± He moved a piece and suddenly, without Seri quite realizing, put her in a trap. ¡°Do you happen to know if this uncle of yours killed my family?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t do it or no, you don¡¯t know.¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer.


    He cleared the board. ¡°I will find the perpetrators sooner or later. Of that, you may be sure.¡±

 Chapter 18

    ¡°Brand is a surviving heir of Castle Satyros?¡± Ida whispered.


    ¡°Of what?¡± Lotte asked.


    It was breakfast the next morning, and Brand was not yet up. Seri was telling the other girls about last night¡¯s strange conversation with Brand, and she was halfway through his claims of revenge, when Ida dropped her spoon in her porridge and went pale.


    ¡°You have not heard of the breaking of Castle Satyros?¡± Ida asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Seri said, feeling irritated.


    Although some sorcerer families were very proud of their deeds, others, Seri¡¯s included, kept their history a secret¡ªparticularly from its women. Oh, there was, doubtless, some vault with ancient family histories buried among the mold, but Seri did not know where these histories were, nor how to access them. Her father saw no value in teaching history to women, and even her mother told her, she¡¯d be happier if she were ignorant.


    This ignorance was causing her a fair amount of trouble at the moment.


    ¡°Castle Satyros,¡± Lotte mused. ¡°The name sounds familiar. Isn¡¯t there a poem about it?¡±


    Ida looked around the room. ¡°Not in here.


    They grabbed rolls and fruit and went out to the garden, where there were no mirrors to spy on them. Seri¡¯s lilies were fragrant and blooming. Sitting among the flowers, Seri felt safe¡ªas safe as they were ever going to be. Ida hunched low amid the green stalks, as if trying to hide. She played with her hands and licked her lips.


    ¡°Castle Satyros was the home of one of the most powerful bloodline of sorcerers. It was a pure magic house, meaning that they drew their power almost exclusively from magic, rather than from land or armies or wealth. Of course, they had some lands and monies, but they were not, you understand, a worldly family. As the saying goes, powerful men cast long nets or dive deep. Castle Satyros dove deep into the secrets of magic.¡±


    ¡°So they were knowledgeable,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°And powerful,¡± Ida added. ¡°The men married well, and magic ran strong in their veins. However, in recent years, a change came across the family. They had mastered magic and now wished for earthly rule. As they seized resources, other families became concerned. And so it was decided that the Castle must be broken.¡±


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    ¡°Decided by whom?¡± Seri asked.


    Ida shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Men, I suppose. At any rate, it is no easy thing to break castle. It is not the walls you need to topple, but the people. Those of blood can access the power of previous the generations. To break a Castle, you must kill off any who carry that bloodline, no matter their age or their sex.¡±


    ¡°You mean assassinate them?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ida said. ¡°Away from the castle, if possible. And once broken, it¡¯s never spoken of again. The house is dead, the family forgotten.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Lotte asked.


    ¡°Because no one can say for sure if the line is wiped out,¡± Ida said. ¡°One bastard child from some obscure corner of the globe can resurrect a broken castle. Better that the history be forgotten, that the secrets never come to light.¡±


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t forget?¡± Seri said.


    ¡°No. I couldn¡¯t. This was not the suppression of a minor house. This was a war. It could not be done in secret, as it was usually done. They tried but¡ª¡±


    She sucked in her breath.


    ¡°The first blow destroyed all but the master of the castle. To kill him required another decade. Even now, there floats rumors of secret sons, bastard children, who lie in wait to enact revenge. My father¡ªI¡¯m not supposed to know this¡ªbut he is one of those dedicated to finding and extinguishing any potential offspring.¡±


    Seri was silent.


    This was shocking¡ªin its bloodiness, in its cruelty, but mostly in its secrecy. Could such terrible deeds happen and be forgotten¡ªburied by time and silence? Could her family have taken part? Seri knew her father could not have, as he had no magic, but his brother, Seri¡¯s uncle, a powerful sorcerer¡ªhe would have been of age to fight. Had he killed Brand¡¯s family?


    Seri didn¡¯t know much about her uncle. He was her father¡¯s elder brother. He was meant to be the master of Castle Staghome, and Seri¡¯s mother was originally engaged to him. But something had happened to him, long before Seri was born, and he¡¯d relinquished his claim on castle, fianc¨¦, everything. He¡¯d abandon them to wander the earth as a hermit. Seri rarely saw him. The last time was at her mother¡¯s funeral. Uncle Englebert crackled with power, but his clothes were shabby and his face haggard. He said nothing to her and disappeared shortly after the hymns were sung.


    Could this sad, lonely stranger be a ruthless assassin?


    She shook her head.


    ¡°We don¡¯t even know if Brand is an heir of Castle Satyros,¡± Seri said. ¡°When did this happen?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Twenty years ago, perhaps.¡±


    The timeline fit with the age she guessed.


    ¡°It¡¯s still possible that Brand heard these rumors and latched onto them,¡± Seri argued. ¡°Men have done so before, claiming some mythical ancestor, for fame and notoriety. The chance that he is a survivor is very slim.¡±


    ¡°He could be lying, of course,¡± Ida said. She didn¡¯t sound convinced.


    ¡°Surely, if he were a survivor, he would know who to enact revenge upon.¡±


    Ida shook her head. ¡°These things are done in secret. Nobody is going to admit to slaughtering a bloodline. It was not one family who waged this secret war against him, but many¡ªand my family participated. My grandfather, my great-uncles, even my father all helped break Castle Satyros.¡± Ida sank low into the lilies. ¡°I fear, he wants his revenge on me.¡±

 Chapter 19

    That night, Brand called Ida into his private room. This was not unusual; Ida was close to the end of her grace period, and he¡¯d been speaking to her often. But the timing left Seri ill. Ida had just found out her family had possibly killed Brand¡¯s. What would he do to her if he found out? The feeling grew worse the next day, when Seri went to breakfast and found that Ida was gone.


    ¡°What did you do to her?¡± Seri demanded, as soon as Brand reappeared.


    ¡°I took Ida home,¡± Brand said flatly.


    ¡°In exchange for what?¡±


    ¡°That is none of your business.¡±


    ¡°Did you hurt her?¡±


    Brand gave her a long look. ¡°Of course not,¡± he said and walked off.


    Seri had no idea whether to believe him or not. Honestly, she was scared. He shouldn¡¯t be able to listen in on their conversation in the garden. He couldn¡¯t have heard Ida¡¯s confession. This was just a massive coincidence. Wasn¡¯t it?


    Seri didn¡¯t know, anymore. But with Ida gone, there was only the two of them left, and Lotte¡¯s three months were coming to an end.


    ¡°What do I do?¡± Lotte asked.


    ¡°If Ida is home safe, she¡¯ll tell them what we know about him,¡± Seri said.


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    ¡°Unless he¡¯s ripped out her tongue,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Lotte¡ª¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t say how he returns them.¡±


    Lotte had a disturbing imagination, but she wasn¡¯t necessarily wrong. And when Seri looked at Brand and thought of him being from a broken castle hell-bent on vengeance, it wouldn¡¯t surprise her if his methods were a lot bloodier than he let on.


    He didn¡¯t murder girls. That much she knew.


    That was all she knew.


    Not knowing was worse than making concessions, so at last, Seri decided to swallow her pride and do something that had been on her mind for a while now. The truth spell, he mentioned. Was that offer still good?


    * * *


    ¡°You want me to do the truth spell?¡± Brand asked, looking at her in surprise.


    ¡°You made me the offer a few weeks ago,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°A month ago.¡± He cut into his roast. ¡°I¡¯d almost forgotten.¡±


    Seri took a sip of her water. With Ida gone, she¡¯d been asked to take her seat, at Brand¡¯s right hand. The room was so empty, with just the three of them. The darkness and the silence surrounded them.


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to consent to it now,¡± she said. ¡°Would you be willing to cast the spell?¡±


    He might not be. He¡¯d offered when she was at her most rebellious, when they were constantly at each other¡¯s throats. Now that the situation had calmed, would he have any reason to go through with it? She looked at him.


    Brand chewed on his meat.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, at last. ¡°I think I would. On one condition.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Seri asked, feeling dread sour in her stomach.


    ¡°If we¡¯re going to talk honestly, then we¡¯re going to talk,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to have you interrogate me, while you stay sullen and silent. I don¡¯t need to know all your secrets, Seri, but I do want to get to know you. Are we agreed?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said.


    She felt tense and shaky, but it was not an unreasonable request. It was another concession¡ªa small one, to be sure, but a concession nonetheless. She was starting to wonder if she¡¯d conceded too much. At what point did she start to give away her conviction?


    ¡°We¡¯ll do it tonight, then,¡± Brand said.

 Chapter 20

    That night Brand wore the face of a handsome man with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes¡ªnot a face that looked related to him and so one she chose to ignore. The spell took a little time to set up, and he hummed as he got it ready.


    ¡°This will be like last time,¡± he said. ¡°You and I must both consent to the spell, or it will not work. However, there are a few things I must tell you.¡±


    ¡°What are they?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°First the enchantment is limited to this room. That¡¯s one of my stipulations¡ªit makes the spell easier to control. Outside this room, you and I may lie our heads off. But in here, we will be honest.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    ¡°The second thing you need to know is that the truth spell is subjective.¡±


    ¡°Subjective?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s tied to what we believe.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s not actual truth?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Well, here¡¯s the thing. If the spell were tied to the actual, unquestionable truth, then anyone who used this spell may well be God. You can ask me, for example, about what happens to our souls after we die, and I will answer as I think to be true¡ªbut that doesn¡¯t mean it is true. My answer is subjectively true, but not factually true. Does that make sense?¡±


    ¡°So there isn¡¯t really any way to be certain?¡±


    ¡°Nothing in life is certain, my dear,¡± he said. ¡°But in general, the more direct the question is, the more truthful the answer. Yes or no questions are pretty accurate, whereas open-ended philosophical questions will get you, at best, a truthful opinion. Keep that in mind.¡±


    Seri nodded. It just meant she had to be very careful what she asked. She had to be clear, precise, and direct. She straightened in her chair and folded her hands neatly over her skirt.


    ¡°All right. The spell is set. You are going to say, ¡°I, Serihilde of Castle Staghome, do swear and consent to tell the truth, to the best of my knowledge, to Brandeis of Tower Abnoba, as long as we are in this room.¡±


    ¡°You go first,¡± she said.


    ¡°No,¡± Brand said. ¡°I need to make sure you say the words precisely. Shall I repeat it?¡±


    She nodded and he said the phrase again. She repeated it. He stated, ¡°I, Brandeis of Tower Abnoba, do swear and consent to tell the truth to Serihilde, to the best of my knowledge, as long as we are in this room.¡±


    Seri felt the magic go through them and lock. She felt both relieved and a little nervous.


    ¡°Now what?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Now we can relax and talk.¡± Brand walked over to his tumbler of wine. ¡°I know you have questions. Go ahead and ask them.¡±


    ¡°All of them?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I may not answer all, but you may ask. Would you like some wine?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Are you really a surviving member of Castle Satyros.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, pouring the wine.


    The answer so startled her that for a moment she was speechless.


    ¡°How did you survive?¡± she asked at last.


    ¡°My mother was declared dead.¡± He sipped his drink. ¡°My birth was concealed.¡±


    ¡°Did you kidnap us for revenge?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But why us? We didn¡¯t hurt you. What do you hope to gain?¡±


    ¡°That is a complicated series of questions.¡± Brand drained his wine. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like answering them. Ask your next question.¡±


    Seri clenched her hands over her skirt, crushing the red velvet. ¡°Did you hurt Ida?¡±


    Brand opened his mouth but stopped. He poured himself another glass of wine.


    ¡°Aside from capturing her, I caused Ida no physical harm.¡±


    ¡°Did you make her sleep with you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Did you make her steal?¡±


    He thought about it. ¡°Yes and no. The item she offered belonged to my family.¡±


    ¡°Did you return her home?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you return all the girls you capture?¡±


    ¡°So far, yes,¡± he said. ¡°Once they agree to terms.¡±


    ¡°You keep your word to them?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you hurt their families?¡±


    ¡°In what sense?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Do you attack, maim, stab¡ª¡±


    ¡°I do not physically assault individuals. Not in their own castle.¡±


    ¡°Will the spell actually turn us into dragons?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you undo it before you return the girls home?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°If you die, does the spell break?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Can someone beside you break it?¡±


    He thought. ¡°That depends.¡±


    ¡°On what?¡±


    His eyes narrowed. ¡°Next question.¡±


    Seri swallowed. ¡°Did you sleep with Berta?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Did you sleep with Rilla?¡±


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    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you intend to sleep with Lotte?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Do you intend to sleep with me?¡± she asked softly.


    Brand leaned against the mantle place. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say no if you offered.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not offering.¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡±


    Seri looked down. So he meant to have her, then. Her whole body felt hot and stinging, and she was short of breath. It was not a pleasant feeling. His eyes were on her, watching, always watching. She hardly dared imagine the thoughts that ran through his mind.


    ¡°Any more questions?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°Not at the moment.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°So now that we¡¯re being honest, I have a question for you.¡±


    Her stomach knotted. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Do you like the face I¡¯m currently wearing?¡±


    She blinked. ¡°That¡¯s your question?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Do you like it?¡±


    ¡°Not on you.¡±


    ¡°I can change it, if you like.¡± Brand set the goblet on the mantle. ¡°Tell me your preference. I¡¯ll try to accommodate you.¡±


    ¡°I have no preference. These illusions are all masks. Pick whichever one you like.¡±


    He tilted his head and peered at her for a long moment. Then he smiled.


    ¡°How about this?¡±


    Seri uttered a cry.


    The man before her was a clean-shaven youth, with brown hair, long and wavy, neatly combed. He was fair-skinned, but not pale, and he had a strong jawline, a long, thin mouth, and a nose slightly rounded at the end. Mostly, though she noticed his eyes. They were a plain brown with nothing remarkable about the shape, but they were fiery and intense. They drew her to them, and she could not stop staring.


    It was not an illusion. This was his true face.


    ¡°You seem shocked,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ is that really you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Good God, you¡¯re pale.¡± His smile widened, showing a flash of teeth, but his eyes lost none of their intensity. ¡°Trembling, too. Am I so horrifying to behold?¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯re¡ªno.¡± Seri squirmed. ¡°Why show me what you look like?¡±


    ¡°Why not? You¡¯ve decided to be a dragon.¡±


    ¡°No. My father will find my uncle. He¡¯ll tear you apart.¡±


    ¡°Either way,¡± Brand shrugged, ¡°knowing what I look like won¡¯t make any difference.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± she said in a shaky voice.


    Seri took a short breath. Brand had meant to disarm her, and it had worked. But now that she knew his true face, she felt more curious than anything. Standing, she stepped over to him. His skin was clear and had a glow of health. He looked young. He had faint furrows in his brow, but few wrinkles beside that.


    ¡°How old are you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Twenty-two.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d guessed twenty-five.¡±


    He put his hands behind his back and leaned over her. ¡°You¡¯ve been guessing at my age?¡±


    ¡°And your general appearance.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± He took a step closer. ¡°Do I look as you imagined?¡±


    He was too close now, his bearing, his attention too much to take. Seri was forced to look to the side and glance at him from the corner of her eye.


    ¡°In some ways, yes. You resemble your ancestors, but you¡¯re also different. I¡¯d guessed you would have an ordinary face, maybe even handsome, but¡ª¡±


    She stopped. She¡¯d said too much.


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m handsome?¡± he asked.


    No, she wanted to say.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said out loud and felt her face heat.


    ¡°Thank you for the kind compliment.¡± She could hear the smug smile in his voice.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to compliment you.¡±


    ¡°Of course not. To do so would be fundamentally against your code of conduct.¡± He took another step forward and her shoulders tensed, but he stepped around her and put a hand to the board table. ¡°Admit to one good quality and you might have to admit to others. And if you admit to too many, who knows? You may even start to like me.¡±


    Seri said nothing. She burned. This remark cut too close to her own thoughts, her firm decision to mark his every action as malicious. For him to read her so easily, so flippantly, made her feel small and foolish. She crossed her arms.


    ¡°Why do you care if I like you or not?¡± she asked.


    She heard him draw a breath as if to speak, but the words didn¡¯t follow. Seri risked a glance in his direction. Brand frowned. He opened his mouth and quickly shut it. He did this once more. His eyes flickered around the room, and his fingers idly tapped the back of his neck.


    Brand sighed. ¡°Because I like you,¡± he said at last.


    Whatever Seri was expecting, it was not that. Such a short, simple answer¡ªsurely, that couldn¡¯t be it. Most likely, the truth was a complex web of ill-intent. He wasn¡¯t going to tell her his machinations and manipulations. Hence the pauses. Hence the careful word choice. What had she expected? Even when he told the truth, he lied.


    Brand tilted his head. ¡°You don¡¯t believe me, do you? Even with the spell. Incredible. I¡¯ve never known anyone quite so stubborn as you. You are dead set on hating me, aren¡¯t you?¡± A flicker of hurt went through his face, and his voice softened. ¡°Nothing I do will be good enough for you.¡±


    Was the pained expression real or just good acting? Brand had a theatrical quality about him, so she felt sure he could put on a show. Still, it was one thing seeing illusions react¡ªanother to see his real face. It was easier to believe his expressions might be real.


    ¡°How can I believe you?¡± she asked. ¡°You kidnapped me. I don¡¯t trust. I don¡¯t know what your true intentions are.¡±


    ¡°Then ask.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t tell me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I will.¡±


    ¡°Some, perhaps. Not everything. You¡¯ll hide the truest part.¡±


    Brand let out a sigh. ¡°Everyone hides the truest part of themselves, Seri. You hide yours from me all the time. If I were to ask your favorite color, you¡¯d hem and haw and ponder how I might possibly use the answer against you. Yes, I kidnapped you, and I might have done worse¡ªbut I haven¡¯t. I¡¯ve given you what you need, I¡¯ve kept my promises, I¡¯ve been honest. Why is it so hard for you to talk to me? What are you afraid of?¡±


    Where to begin? That he would hurt her, use her, force her into bed with him? Seri had several retorts, but when she tried to answer, she found her tongue unable to move. She kept opening her mouth and nothing came out. Because it wasn¡¯t true, she realized. Yes, she was afraid of all those things¡ªbut it had nothing to do with why she wouldn¡¯t talk to him. That answer was far simpler.


    I¡¯m afraid I might like you.


    She did not say it out loud, though, for the answer, plain as it was, was somehow too big, too weighty, and she couldn¡¯t process it. Of all the things to be afraid of, it was this that frightened her. Why?


    She looked at him and realized that without his illusions, it was hard for her not to see him as, well, human. He was a young man¡ªpowerful, it was true, with evil deeds to his name¡ªbut still, just a man. The shifting masks of illusions had obscured this fact, made it easier to see Brand as a demonic presence, his every action calculated to break her spirit and corrupt her will. But now she couldn¡¯t be sure. Maybe he was planning her soul¡¯s destruction. Or maybe his motives were much simpler.


    ¡°Brand,¡± she said quietly, ¡°was all this¡ªthe truth spell, answering my questions, showing your real face¡ªwas it to get me to like you?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± he blurted. ¡°Did I not make that clear?¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you want me to like you because¡­¡± Seri swallowed. Her heart was thumping. ¡°¡­because you like me?¡±


    Brand nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not so complicated, really.¡±


    But it was. Seri leaned against the board table. The room was spinning.


    Every action he took, she¡¯d judged as though he were a master manipulator, skillfully demanding one concession after the other, until he broke her. Knowing this, it was her duty, her moral obligation, to resist. And as hard as it was, at least it gave her clarity. At least she knew what was right.


    But this new way of thinking, seeing him as a young man trying to impress a girl¡­ it only confused the matter. Brand wanted to be liked because¡­. well, he wanted to be liked. Because it was the nature of people to crave the approval of those they respected, those they admired. Did he respect and admire her? What was happening?


    It shouldn¡¯t matter, and yet it did. He¡¯d kidnapped her. The act was evil. But was he? Because if not, then did it make it right to defy him? Should she expend so much energy being sullen and silent and trying to understand the nefarious intent behind his every advance? Or was such thinking only obscuring the truth?


    ¡°Seri,¡± he said, and his voice was low. ¡°Do you like me?¡±


    She stared at the board and could not look at him. But she could hear him breathing, shallowly beside her. He was standing so close her skin prickled. She could not answer. She did not know. Two different interpretations, and she did not know which to believe. Which was right? Which was true?


    ¡°Seri?¡± he said again, and there was a tremble at the end of his voice.


    Her head was spinning. ¡°I need to leave.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a simple question.¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± she said. ¡°I feel ill.¡±


    She felt like she was going to faint or throw up, but she knew it was not the fault of her body, but of her mind. The thoughts, the emotions, bearing down on her, became a relentless pounding in her ears. Brand was speaking, but she could not hear. She tried to step away from him, tried to get back to her chair, but her knees wobbled. She swayed and grabbed his arm.


    He caught her and held her upright.


    ¡°You¡­ you really aren¡¯t well, are you?¡± Brand said.


    ¡°No,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you to your room.¡±


    She let go of his arm, but he did not go of her. He took her arm firmly in his as they made their way through the dining room and up the stairs. She found she needed to grip his arm as they climbed¡ªif he wasn¡¯t there, she felt sure, she would have fallen down the staircase. It was humiliating. To have held up for so long and then fall apart over this. Seri was furious at herself. Why did she have to break down now?


    He opened her door. ¡°Good night, Seri. I hope you feel better in the morning.¡±


    ¡°Good night, Brand.¡±


    She had avoided looking at him up until then, but as she turned to close her door, she could not help but see his face. He looked¡­ sad. Almost wistful, actually. Like he wanted to say something, like there was a question building in his lungs, and he was holding his breath. She closed the door. From the other side of the wooden frame, she heard him sigh, his footsteps tap down the stairs.


    Seri pressed her forehead to the door.


    Two interpretations, and she knew which one was true¡ªand that was the problem.

 Chapter 21

    On the one hand, Seri didn¡¯t say no. Maybe that was a good sign. Brand walked down the stairs, raking his hand through his hair, trying not to sigh so loudly she¡¯d hear him through her door. On the other hand, a girl getting physically ill over the question was never a good sign. What possessed him to ask.


    Do you like me?


    Of course, she didn¡¯t.


    She hated him, and he knew it, but apparently that didn¡¯t stop him from taking stupid risks trying to change her mind. Why had he shown his face? Just to get a reaction out of her? Any reaction?


    He¡¯d gotten one. For one moment, that mask of haughty disdain had cracked. Seri looked shocked. Not just by his appearance, but the fact that he¡¯d actually done it. Though she did like my appearance. He smiled. So maybe it was worth it.


    Telling Seri he liked her had also gotten him a small reward. Brand put a hand to his arm, where she¡¯d clung to him, leaned on him. It was the first time she touched him. Granted, it was because she was on the verge of fainting. Still, he¡¯d take what he could get.


    Is this really what your reduced to? Giving away secrets in the hopes of getting one lowly girl to look at you?


    Brand rubbed his forehead. The voice in his thoughts sounded suspiciously like his grandfather. He pushed it aside. He could do whatever he pleased. What was the point of power if he always had to do what was expected? If he wanted to do stupid things to impress a girl, that¡¯s what he¡¯d do.


    And the consequences?


    He didn¡¯t care.


    Brand was already knee-deep in consequences. Kidnapping girls, robbing family vaults, declaring his lineage. The debt was growing. He was never going to pay it off. So why bother to worry about one more thing?


    You will have to deal with this.


    Then I¡¯ll deal with it in the morning.


    * * *


    Morning hit like a hang-over.


    Brand rose from his bed at the crack of dawn, a sudden sharp fear jolting up his spine. He¡¯d told her his lineage. He¡¯d told her his age. He¡¯d told her his plans. She knew what he looked like. She knew he liked her. What the hell was he thinking? Why not undo the protection spells, hand her a knife, and turn around so she could plunge the blade into his back?


    Brand went to the basin and splashed water on his face. There would be consequences. Fine. Once he released her, he wouldn¡¯t be able to show his true face in public, not for a long time. But frankly, he shouldn¡¯t be doing that anyway. Not until after his revenge was complete.


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    No, the real consequences would come from inside the castle. How impossible would Seri be to live with now that she knew he was fond of her? Now that she knew she had power over him? And to top it off, Lotte was going to hear about it, and then he¡¯d have two girls running all over him. Brand wanted to go back to bed and sleep the rest of the day. But waiting would only make it that much worse, so he got dressed, put on an illusion, and went to the dining room for breakfast.


    The girls weren¡¯t there. Breakfast wasn¡¯t there. Brand sat at the table, drumming his fingers. He never met the girls for breakfast; he preferred to sleep in. How long would he have to wait? Would they come in together or separate? What would he say to them?


    He found himself staring at a vase filled with wilting blooms. A single bee had flown in through the open window and was nosing for pollen. Brand stared at it. He created the illusion of a second bee. It was easy, with the model so close. He made a third bee, and a fourth. By the time the cook set the porridge in the center of the table, he was up to fifteen. Three dozen bees swarmed over breakfast by the time the dining room door creaked open.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Lotte said.


    Brand dropped the illusions and stood up.


    ¡°Good morning, Lotte.¡± He saw a dark-haired form standing beside her. ¡°Good morning, Seri.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Brand,¡± Seri replied.


    Her voice sounded¡­ cautious. Like she wasn¡¯t quite sure how to act around him. Seri was wearing her blue dress and her black hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. He¡¯d never seen her hair down and realized it was thick and wavy. She eyed him as she stepped into the room.


    ¡°Did you sleep well?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°You were a bit sick last night. I hope you have¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said quickly. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She seemed embarrassed. He relaxed. She had called him handsome and swooned into his arms. He could always tease her about that.


    ¡°Join me for breakfast,¡± he said.


    Lotte stepped up to the table first and took a roll of bread. Brand stood by the plates, taking his time in pouring a glass of small ale. Eventually Seri came up and took a bowl for herself. She had to come quite close to him to reach it, close enough, he thought, that he could reach out and push a stray hair off her neck before she could do anything to stop him. He didn¡¯t, of course. They weren¡¯t there yet.


    He took a bowl for himself. Seri stepped to the side and began ladling porridge into her bowl. He stepped near her, and she flinched. No, definitely not there. Her body was stiff, and her breathing was slow and deliberate.


    ¡°Seri, would it bother you terribly if¡­¡± He let his voice trail off.


    ¡°If?¡±


    ¡°If I borrowed Lotte for the morning?¡±


    Lotte dropped her bread. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°I feel I¡¯ve been neglecting you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not being neglected,¡± she said.


    ¡°But I hardly know you, and it¡¯s been months¡ª¡±


    ¡°Is this about her grace period coming to an end?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said.


    Seri bit her lip.


    ¡°Do you want to go home?¡± he asked Lotte.


    ¡°I do,¡± she said.


    ¡°Then we need to start talking about it.¡±


    ¡°Alone?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s how I always do things.¡± Brand tilted his head at her.


    He waited. He hadn¡¯t really intended to make this the issue, but it seemed to be one, and he was curious as to how she¡¯d react. Would Seri insist upon coming? Go silent and sullen? Try to use her newly won knowledge against him? What would that look like?


    Seri sighed and shut her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt her,¡± she told him.


    ¡°You know I¡¯d never.¡±


    ¡°You play mind games, Brand. Just be nice. Please.¡±


    He stared at her. Was her new strategy to¡­ talk to him like a regular person? And was it working? Something stirred in his chest. Guilt? He hadn¡¯t done anything yet. He pried his eyes away from Seri and turned to Lotte.


    ¡°After breakfast,¡± he said. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind.¡±

 Chapter 22

    His private room looked different in the sunlight. Gloomier and a bit pretentious. Brand tugged open the heavy curtains and a cloud of dust puffed in the air. He should have told Lotte to meet him in the library, even if his private room was his choice place for negotiations.


    ¡°Do you like wine?¡± he asked her, gesturing at the tumblers.


    ¡°Not after breakfast,¡± Lotte said.


    ¡°I suppose it is a bit early.¡±


    He glanced at Lotte and saw that she was sitting in the chair Seri usually preferred. The way the small girl sat, crossing her arms, also reminded him of Seri. Brand clinked through the wine tumblers for his water carafe. Lotte was a good mimic, but he doubted she¡¯d be anywhere near as much trouble as Seri.


    ¡°Water?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    He poured a glass for her anyway. He put the glass onto the game table and sat down across from her. Even sitting down, he felt much taller. His illusion, he realized, was that of his Uncle Arnwolf¡ªa scholarly man, not intimidating, but authoritative.


    ¡°So, Lotte,¡± he said, ¡°have you enjoyed your time here?¡±


    She rubbed her hand across her belly. ¡°Um¡­ well, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s a very pretty castle.¡±


    ¡°But you miss home?¡±


    She nodded. She took a sip from the water cup. When she sat back against the backboard, she seemed to shrink. Already, her mimic of Seri was crumbling.


    ¡°Are you nervous?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    She looked down. ¡°You¡¯ll be angry with me.¡±


    ¡°Why would I do that?¡±


    She didn¡¯t reply.


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m going to ask you something you can¡¯t agree to, and you¡¯ll have to say no? Is that why you think I¡¯ll be mad?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s not how this works. I¡¯m not the one making the offer. You are.¡±


    She looked up. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°You want to go home? You want me to break the curse?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But I¡¯m not¡­ I don¡¯t want to steal.¡±


    ¡°So what would you be willing to do?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Do you have something you can give me?¡±


    Lotte shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Nothing you¡¯d want.¡±


    Everyone had such limited imaginations when it came to what he might want. Sex or power or occasionally money. No one ever tried to dig deeper than that. No one ever tried to figure him out. Brand pressed his fingers together. Fortunately, he knew what he wanted, and in Lotte¡¯s case, it was actually quite simple.


    ¡°Do you know why I kidnapped you, Lotte?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said.


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    ¡°It wasn¡¯t personal. Your family is rich, but not especially powerful. Did they help destroy my family? I don¡¯t know for sure. You don¡¯t know, either. Is there some way we could find out?¡±


    ¡°I could ask my father.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d have to let you go first.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ there are record books,¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°Family histories. In our vault.¡±


    He tilted his chin up.


    ¡°But that would still be stealing.¡±


    ¡°If I read a few books and put them back, would that be a crime?¡±


    ¡°Well, no, but¡­ but then what would you do?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t hurt your family, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re afraid of,¡± Brand said. ¡°I¡¯m not out to avenge myself against every person who might have played a role in my family¡¯s destruction. Your family lost you for a time, and that¡¯s punishment enough. But I wouldn¡¯t have to kidnap so many girls, if I knew who my true enemy was. If I could enact my vengeance precisely upon them. That¡¯s why I need information¡ªthe kind of information everyone keeps secret.¡±


    He gazed at her. He wasn¡¯t trying to intimidate her, but her eyes dropped straight to the table. She began playing with her fingers. Brand said nothing. He let her think. It was not the worst thing to do. It was not immoral. It wouldn¡¯t hurt those she loved. They wouldn¡¯t even have to know.


    ¡°If¡­ if I let you into the vault,¡± Lotte said, ¡°would you promise not to steal our family¡¯s magic? You would just read what you needed to read and leave.¡±


    ¡°I have my own magic. I don¡¯t need to take yours.¡±


    ¡°If I help you, would-would that be enough? Would you let me go?¡±


    ¡°I would.¡±


    Lotte looked up. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really.¡± Brand smiled. ¡°See, not so bad.¡±


    Lotte let out a breath.


    ¡°Of course, there would need to be enforcements,¡± he added.


    Lotte went stiff. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that I need more than just your word,¡± he said. He took a deep breath. This was the hard part. ¡°Here¡¯s what would happen. I consent to break this curse and send you home, if you consent to let me into the vault long enough to see the records and safely return to my castle. Should you fail to complete your end of the bargain, the curse will be locked.¡±


    ¡°Locked?¡± Lotte¡¯s eyes grew wide. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°No one can break it. Not even me.¡±


    Lotte went pale. ¡°So if you die¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be stuck as a dragon, yes.¡±


    She swallowed.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to die,¡± Brand said. ¡°It sounds risky, I know, but I have broken into family vaults before. If you help me, everything should go smoothly. You¡¯ll be home safe. You¡¯ll never have to worry about being a dragon again.¡±


    Lotte clutched the armrests of her chair. She was breathing hard, gaping with her mouth wide open. God, she looked young. Brand clenched his fists. Young, yes, but old enough to be married by the laws of the land. She¡¯d make tougher decisions than this.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°You understand why I have to do this. Returning you is risky. I want to make sure that you get home, safe and happy. But I have to protect myself, too.¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Do you still want to do this?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice.¡±


    ¡°You always have a choice,¡± he said. ¡°You can make me another offer.¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t make any difference. Going home would still be risky.¡±


    ¡°No riskier than staying.¡±


    She took several more breaths.


    ¡°All right,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°You agree to this bargain?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Are you ready to swear your oath now?¡±


    She closed her eyes. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to, you know,¡± he said gently. ¡°You can think about it, if you want.¡±


    ¡°No, now. Before I change my mind.¡±


    Brand stood. ¡°All right.¡±


    The spell was already inside her, and he knew it well. It only took a few moments to alter it from a curse to an agreement. He spooled the binding, not to his will, but to hers, where it would be stronger, unbreakable.


    ¡°Repeat after me,¡± he said. ¡° ¡®I, Lotte, of Castle Norhorn¡ª¡¯¡±


    ¡°I, Lotte, of Castle Norhorn¡ª¡±


    ¡° ¡®¡ªdo hereby vow of my own freewill¡ª¡¯ ¡±


    ¡°¡ªdo hereby vow of my own freewill¡ª¡±


    ¡° ¡®¡ªto take Brandeis of Tower Abnoba¡ª¡¯ ¡±


    ¡°¡ªto take Brandeis of Tower Abnoba¡ª¡±


    ¡° ¡®¡ªsafely to my family¡¯s vault¡ª¡¯ ¡±


    ¡°¡ªsafely to my family¡¯s vault¡ª¡± Lotte¡¯s voice broke.


    ¡° ¡®¡ªto let him read the books he wishes¡ª¡¯ ¡±


    ¡°¡ªto let him read the books he wishes¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªand depart the premises unharmed.¡¯ ¡±


    ¡°¡ªand depart the premises unharmed.¡±


    Brand took a quick breath. ¡°If I should break this vow, may this curse strike me down.¡±


    Lotte repeated the words. Brand tested the spell. Her promise seemed fragile, and if it were not freely given, the whole thing would collapse. But it held firm.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said.


    ¡°What about you?¡± she asked.


    Brand waved his hand and broke the curse. He felt the magic seep away. He knew there was a grain of it still inside Lotte, a seed ready to germinate, but once she completed her vow, that, too, would die.


    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± he said.


    ¡°What is?¡±


    ¡°The curse. I broke it. And tonight, I¡¯ll take you home.¡±


    ¡°Tonight?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Any reason why not?¡±


    Lotte shook her head.


    ¡°Then pack your things. Oh, and don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    He was going to say don¡¯t tell Seri, but he realized it was pointless. If Lotte didn¡¯t tell her, he would. He wanted Seri to know he hadn¡¯t hurt Lotte. He wanted her to see that he¡¯d been reasonable and kind.


    ¡°Go enjoy your last day here,¡± he told Lotte. ¡°Go tell Seri goodbye.¡±

 Chapter 23

    In Brand¡¯s bedroom, in the highest turret, sitting unprotected on his desk, was the item of power he¡¯d retrieved from Ida. It was a silver medallion on a chain with a diamond at its center, a heavy, cumbersome, and frankly out-of-style piece of jewelry. But it contained a potent store of raw magic, and so Brand slung it around his neck. He always took extra magic when preparing to rob a vault.


    Lotte¡¯s family was rich, but not particularly good with magic. Between the medallion, Lotte¡¯s blood, and Brand¡¯s illusions, he¡¯d be fine. Brand put on a dark cape and heaved the rolled carpet over his shoulder. He walked down to his private room, where Lotte was waiting. She wore the dress he kidnapped her in. She carried nothing else with her.


    ¡°Where are the things I gave you?¡± he asked. ¡°Your dresses and combs?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want them.¡±


    The words stung. Brand shrugged them off.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    They flew high in the air. It was a clear, bright night. Brand summoned illusions of clouds to cover them. Lotte shivered, so he let her wear his cloak. He¡¯d donned it more for disguise than comfort. Even at night, it was still the hottest part of summer.


    They stopped near the wall of Lotte¡¯s castle. He could feel the barrier magic, stronger this time. Repairs had been done since the he¡¯d last visited. Pressed against his chest, the medallion hummed with magic. At a word, he might summon fire and destruction, destroy the walls and tear up the magical charms.


    But there was a much easier way to get in.


    ¡°Give me permission to enter,¡± Brand said to Lotte. ¡°Do not shout, but say, in a firm voice, ¡®This man, the sorcerer Brandeis, is my guest. He may freely pass through my castle walls and practice his magic within it.¡¯ ¡±


    Lotte repeated his words.


    Brand felt the barrier ease. He was a guest. Lotte¡¯s castle was protected by blood magic, and blood took precedence over all other charms.


    ¡°Which place would be least guarded?¡± he asked.


    ¡°There¡¯s a grove in the southeast corner.¡±


    Brand dropped down. He hid the carpet amid the trees and took Lotte by the hand. He cast an illusion about them, him a young stable hand and her a pretty maid. He hoped that if anyone saw them, they¡¯d look like a young couple out for a tryst. Hopefully Lotte wouldn¡¯t make any surprise movements. It was very hard to align an illusion to someone else¡¯s body.


    ¡°Take me to your family¡¯s vault.¡±


    She led the way.


    Most family vaults were unguarded. Family¡¯s preferred disguise and blood magic spells to secure their treasures. But it seemed that Lotte¡¯s family had heard news of the thefts, because there were four guards posted around the vault and a small metal bell hanging from a scaffolding beside the.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t guarded like this before,¡± Lotte whispered.


    ¡°Families are catching on,¡± Brand said softly. ¡°Maybe Ida¡¯s family warned them.¡±


    This would complicate matters. Still, Brand was confident. He could take the guards out and get inside the vault. But to do that, he needed silence.


    The quickest way, of course, was to bind the tongues of those he wished to be quiet, but that was testing the limits of the Castle¡¯s hospitality. As a guest, he was permitted to do magic; he was not allowed to do harm to those within its walls.


    Instead, Brand drew upon the magic of the amulet and created a dome out of compressed air. This invisible force would muffle the sounds of noise. It was a complicated spell, and it took a lot of magic. Brand drew power from the medallion as he erected the dome of silence. Fortunately, the rest of the plan would be easier on him.


    Brand gripped Lotte by the arm. ¡°We¡¯re going to walk toward the vault,¡± he said. ¡°You in front, me following at your heels. Walk slowly, and don¡¯t speak.¡±


    ¡°But won¡¯t the guards¡ª¡± Lotte began.


    ¡°Hush. Do as I say.¡±


    Lotte stepped forward. Brand, right behind her, put an illusion over both of them. He chose the face of his great-grandfather, Alemannus, who, with his flowing hair, sharp nose, and wild eyes, was the very picture of a sorcerer.


    The guards saw the illusion immediately and raised the alarm. The chime of bell rang sharp through the air¡ªat least, here, inside the dome. Outside, it would sound like nothing more than a low, whistling wind. No one would hear and no help would come.


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    Brand and Lotte continued to walk toward the vault. Two guards raised their spears; the other two aimed crossbows. Not good enough. The guards needed to attack.


    ¡°Lotte,¡± Brand said in a low voice, ¡°lift your arm.¡±


    Lotte trembled. Her arm slowly moved up. Brand amended the illusion to include a glowing orb, sparking with lightning bolts, forming in the palm of the sorcerer¡¯s raised hand.


    A guard shot.


    A crossbow bolt whizzed through the air. It stopped, frozen, a mere inch from Lotte¡¯s face.


    Lotte whimpered. Brand smiled.


    Got you.


    The magic of Castle Norhorn rippled through the air indignantly. Someone had shot at its daughter. Brand seized his chance and grabbed the now-awakened magic. He was a sorcerer and a guest; he would stop those who tried to hurt a child of Norhorn blood. Having commandeered the castle¡¯s defenses, Brand shot it back at the guards, binding them: hand, foot, and tongue. They seized up, like poles, unable to move or cry out.


    At this, Brand dropped the dome of silence.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he told Lotte. ¡°Quickly now!¡±


    The entrance to the vault of Castle Norhorn looked like a regular wall, built of brick, with ivy covering it. But it had one feature that signaled its true purpose. A little metal thorn stuck out from the mortar.


    ¡°Press your finger to the thorn and draw blood,¡± Brand instructed.


    Lotte did as she was told. Her blood triggered the spell. The bricks slid apart and an entrance appeared, a dark tunnel in the stone wall.


    ¡°Say that I am your guest and may freely enter,¡± Brand instructed.


    ¡°He¡¯s my guest and may freely enter,¡± Lotte said, with a tremble in her voice.


    Brand stepped through the doorway with Lotte in tow.


    The vault was dark. Brand spent several minutes fumbling with flint and striker to light a candle. Damn that he couldn¡¯t use magic to start a fire. When he finally got a candle lit, he ran through the vault, tearing through the volumes of journals and books. Family history was of no use. He had no time for spells. Ah, here it was. The debt ledger.


    Lotte¡¯s family were moneylenders, and money lending required names. Brand was going to find out who had ordered the destruction of his castle, once and for all.


    ¡°Willmarr of Castle Elbe-Antona,¡± his grandfather said. ¡°Or whatever the hell he¡¯s calling himself now.¡±


    Willmarr of Castle Elbe-Antona had betrayed and murdered Brand¡¯s uncle Arnwolf while he was a guest. At the same time, their allies had struck at Castle Satyros and slaughtered those within. In one day, Willmarr had murdered most of Brand¡¯s family. But they had failed to kill Brand¡¯s grandfather, Arnaud, the Lord of Castle Satyros. And so, fearing Arnaud and his vengeance, Willmarr and his family had gone into hiding.


    They had abandoned Castle Elbe-Antona, changed their names, and disappeared into foreign lands or the ranks of obscure families. His grandfather had spent many years tracking them down, to no avail.


    Brand needed a name. One name, and he could hunt them down.


    His eyes pored through ledger.


    There!


    Willmarr of Castle Elbe-Antona.


    So he had been indebted to Castle Norhorn. How much? Brand checked the principle, and began to run his finger down the page, looking for the same number. What was his new name? What was his new name?


    Clovis of House Elmfield.


    Brand sucked in his breath. That was his enemy¡¯s new name.


    He should have felt triumphant. For a moment, he did, but it quickly dissolved. Brand looked at the name and felt¡­ nothing. He was almost disappointed. Three years searching for this name, and here it was: a name, like any other.


    A name that sounded familiar.


    Brand tilted his head. In the years spent researching his enemy, he had pored through so many Castle and House genealogies that the names blurred together. But he thought¡­ he thought he had read this name before. Hadn¡¯t he? House Elmfield. Wasn¡¯t that one of his leads that sounded promising but had fizzled out?


    Frowning, Brand continued through the ledger, following the name.


    House Elmfield destroyed. Debt in suspension.


    Destroyed?


    Now, Brand remembered why the name sounded familiar. He had noted that House Elmfield¡¯s line had ended abruptly and had needed to be reforged. But, of course, that happened all the time. Men went to war and died. Bloodlines ended, only to be reforged by a distant relatives or bastard sons. But there was something odd about when it happened.


    Brand checked the ledger.


    He saw the year.


    That was why.


    The year he turned thirteen.


    The year his grandfather died.


    Brand had never known how Arnaud died. He would not have known he was dead at all, except that the spells that bound him and his mother to the Tower of Abnoba fell away. Brand had assumed that Arnaud¡¯s enemies had ambushed him one day, overpowered him, and slit his throat. But maybe it wasn¡¯t that simple. What if his grandfather had died fighting the man who had killed his family?


    What if he had won? Had Arnaud, with his last spiteful breath, actually succeeded in killing Willmarr? And he must have killed his sons, or else the House and the debt would have transferred to them.


    But even if it wasn¡¯t Brand¡¯s grandfather who had killed them, his enemy¡¯s line was broken. There was no one left to take revenge on. That feeling of disappointment, of nothingness grew. All these years, Brand had been searching for one girl, one name, one clue to lead him to his enemy. All these years, had he been chasing a ghost?


    ¡°Did you find what you were looking for?¡± Lotte asked.


    Brand looked up from the ledger. In the candlelight, Lotte¡¯s face was pale, shade and shadows deepening the lines of her young face.


    ¡°Brand?¡±


    He shook himself. No. The line was not broken. Willmarr was dead. His sons were dead. But his daughters¡ªthey had almost certainly survived. By now they¡¯d all be married, mothers, matriarchs of other castles. The blood was hidden, but alive.


    And he still had the dragon spell.


    It would be long and messy, but he¡¯d find them.


    ¡°I¡¯m done, Lotte,¡± Brand said, closing the book and putting it away. ¡°Walk back with me to the grove. Once I pass from the Castle walls, you¡¯re free to do as you will.¡±


    They came to the forest, and he rolled out the carpet. Lotte stood and watched him. As he rose above the walls, Brand said, out loud, ¡°Lotte has fulfilled her oath.¡± He felt the last of the spell melt away.


    He did not see Lotte run for help. He did, distantly, hear castle bells ringing behind him, but by then, he was too far gone.

 Chapter 24

    By the time Brand returned home, it was past noon. Seri was in the garden, but he didn¡¯t say hello to her. He raided the kitchen, dragged himself up the stairs, peeled off the medallion, and tossed himself into bed. So much work, for nothing. He fell asleep, and when he woke, it was dark again. He checked the clock. Past eight. Dinner would be over.


    He thought about flopping back into bed and sleeping some more, but he was hungry again, and thirsty, too. Magic tended to work up an appetite. Brand glanced in a mirror and saw that his appearance was ghastly, his face pale and drawn, his hair sticking up. He half-heartedly tried to press it down, but he realized he didn¡¯t care. He stomped down the steps and threw open the dining room door.


    Seri sat at the table, reading.


    ¡°Good evening, Brand,¡± she said.


    He stopped.


    She was leaning into the candles, the light shining in her face. Her hair was pulled back in a beaded headdress and she was in her red velvet evening gown. Though she dressed like this every evening, there was something about how she looked tonight that made his breath stop.


    ¡°You¡¯re very late,¡± she said.


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d have left by now.¡±


    ¡°I brought a book.¡± She showed him the volume in her hand.


    He stepped forward, uncertainly. He felt rumpled and under-dressed and kept nervously patting his hair back. He thought about summoning an illusion to make him look polished and dashing. But what was the point? He stepped to the head of the table and took his seat. He noticed that her plate was clean.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten?¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°You could have eaten without me.¡±


    She said nothing.


    The food was cold. Brand wanted to put on good manners and wait for the food to be reheated and make polite conversation with Seri¡ªbut he was too hungry. He heaped great portions on his plate and wolfed down the food. For a few minutes, the room was silent but for the sounds of his chewing.


    ¡°Did you learn what you¡¯d hoped?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± he said.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means I learned my enemy¡¯s name. I also learned the family¡¯s dead. The menfolk are dead,¡± he quickly amended.


    ¡°So you¡¯re going to avenge yourself against the women?¡± Seri asked.


    When she said it like that, it did sound rather pathetic. Brand wiped his mouth and reached for his wine glass.


    ¡°I will figure out my revenge, once I figure out who¡¯s left.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡± she asked.


    He sipped his wine. ¡°One thing at a time.¡±


    They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Since it was already late, Brand considered allowing Seri to retire to her room. But he found he didn¡¯t want to be alone. The castle seemed too dark, too empty, and without Seri, it would be emptier still.


    ¡°Would you care to accompany to my private room tonight?¡± he asked.


    ¡°If you like,¡± she said.


    He offered his arm, but as always, she didn¡¯t accept. And after he had lit the fireplace, and she had lit the candles, they stood together in the room, and he had no idea what to say. Even something as simple as asking her for wine or asking her to have a seat seemed to elude him. He didn¡¯t really want to move away from her or for her to move away from him.


    Brand took a step closer. Not close enough to make her flinch. But close enough that he could, if he wanted, reach out and take her hand. Her hand was placed on the mantel, near a candelabra, as if to hold it steady.


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    ¡°It¡¯s quieter without Lotte,¡± he said at last.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°She seemed to take to you. Like a sister. Do you have sisters at home?¡±


    ¡°I had a sister.¡±


    ¡°Had?¡±


    Seri looked away. ¡°She died.¡±


    ¡°My condolences.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know what else to say. He¡¯d had no family of his own, except his mother. Visiting the vault had reminded him of his revenge, but the empty castle reminded him of what he had lost. He thought of his aunts and uncles and cousins, faces he¡¯d seen, but never known.


    ¡°Do you miss them?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Who?¡± Brand asked, coming out of his daze.


    ¡°The other girls.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. That¡¯s why I craft illusions of them.¡±


    ¡°Can I see?¡±


    He peered at her. ¡°You didn¡¯t like my illusions last time.¡±


    ¡°I know. I want to look again.¡±


    He threw out the three she would have remembered: Berta, Ida, and Lotte. They were not his best work¡ªcareless, uninspired. Still he hoped Seri might appreciate the craftsmanship. Brand studied her face. She wore a neutral expression, but she rubbed her arm, as if she had goosebumps. At last she turned away.


    ¡°You still don¡¯t like them?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The likeness is good,¡± she said. ¡°But I can¡¯t help but find it¡­ disturbing. Seeing my friends reduced to a smile and a pose.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not meant to be substitutes,¡± Brand said. ¡°No more than a portrait on the wall. People who are departed are gone. You can¡¯t replace them. You can only remember.¡±


    He threw out the image of his mother. She sat on a chair near the fireplace, painting. Always when she painted, she held her body very still. Yet her eyes were alive, flickering back and forth, sparked with imagination, in a world beyond what he could see.


    ¡°Who is she?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°My mother.¡±


    He glanced at her, half-expecting that same disapproving look. Instead, Seri stepped closer to the image, squinting, staring at it from different angles.


    ¡°This one¡¯s different.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t disturb you?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s¡­¡± Seri paused. ¡°You loved her.¡±


    ¡°Of course. She was my mother.¡±


    ¡°No¡­that¡¯s what¡¯s different.¡±


    She could be right. His illusions were all technically good, but none were as inspired as this one. Brand had crafted several illusions of his mother, but this was his favorite. He¡¯d captured her before she got sick. Before the long, drawn-out illness. Before she withered away into nothing. Brand wondered, for a moment, what would have happened if she had lived, how different everything would be. How different he¡¯d be. He sighed. He waved his hand and the illusion melted away.


    Seri blinked. ¡°How did you learn illusions?¡±


    Brand almost told her but stopped just in time.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked cautiously.


    ¡°I¡¯m curious. There¡¯s a lot of artistry in your work. It must have taken a good deal of time to master. But it¡¯s more than that. They mean something to you.¡±


    Brand stood very still. Did Seri guess? She must have guessed. He stared at her but saw no shock or disapproval, just a quizzical quirk of her lips and the wrinkle of her brow. Like she was trying to figure something out. Trying to figure him out.


    ¡°It¡¯s a family secret,¡± he said, walking for the wine tumblers.


    ¡°Illusions?¡±


    He poured himself a glass of wine.


    ¡°Something else then?¡± she asked.


    He took a sip. ¡°Would you like some?¡±


    ¡°No. Do you have any other living family?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know of.¡±


    ¡°I just wonder who you¡¯re protecting,¡± she said.


    He put his glass down. ¡°You think because I won¡¯t tell you a secret, I¡¯m protecting someone.¡±


    ¡°In this case, yes.¡±


    She looked so certain. He almost wondered if she was right.


    Brand cleared his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t have a family now. I might¡­ someday.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°You mean¡­ children?¡±


    ¡°And a wife.¡±


    ¡°You want to restore your family line?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I wouldn¡¯t phrase it quite like that, but¡­.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡ª?¡± She stopped.


    ¡°Why what?¡±


    ¡°Why do this?¡± Seri asked. ¡°Why kidnap us? Why seek revenge? Won¡¯t it put your legacy at risk?¡±


    He looked away. He hadn¡¯t thought about it.


    To be honest, he hadn¡¯t thought about having a family until right at this moment, and he hadn¡¯t expected the idea of it to prick at him. Like he¡¯d swallowed a needle and it was scraping at his guts. Did he actually want this? To have a house full of people who loved him?


    ¡°You know,¡± Seri said quietly, ¡°if you want to have a wife and children, maybe¡ª¡±


    ¡°My mother,¡± he blurted.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the one who taught me illusions.¡±


    Seri blinked. Her eyes went wide, and a hand went up to her mouth. Shock. Just what Brand had expected. There was one rule among sorcerers, never-spoken, but iron-clad and unquestioned. Never teach magic to women.


    ¡°Who taught her?¡± Seri whispered.


    ¡°Her mother did.¡±


    ¡°And your grandfather permitted it?¡±


    ¡°He expected it,¡± Brand said. ¡°All the women in our family knew illusion. That was the only magic taught to them, the only magic allowed. Mothers and daughters acted as the family memory-keepers, recording the faces of our ancestors and their most powerful spells. We kept it a secret, not because we were ashamed or we feared what others might do, but because the secrecy gave us power. Who would suspect the most powerful family secrets were being held, not in our vaults, but in the minds of our daughters?¡±


    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± Seri asked.


    Mostly to distract her from the real question¡ªthe one that was starting to cut too close. Brand contemplated his wineglass.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you know,¡± he said in a casual tone. ¡°If I ever rebuild my family line, it will not be like the one my ancestors created.¡±


    And she could interpret that statement however she liked. Probably Seri thought that if he ever had daughters, he¡¯d raise them to be lawful and ignorant and good. But Brand had no intention of doing that. If he had daughters, he¡¯d teach them every spell he knew, because he¡¯d be damned if he¡¯d ever let another man simply walk into his castle and take them¡ªthe way he had done so often before. It was not hypocritical. It was common sense. If you didn¡¯t want your daughters to get hurt, you didn¡¯t teach them to be helpless.


    But this was all hypothetical. He didn¡¯t have a family. And probably he never would.


    ¡°So,¡± Brand said to Seri, ¡°what game would you like to play tonight?¡±

 Chapter 25

    ¡°What are all these chess pieces for?¡± Seri asked.


    She¡¯d been looking through his game cabinet, opening drawers and examining their contents. Brand was pleased that she was feeling comfortable enough to start exploring the room. She¡¯d even asked for a little wine tonight¡ªa rarity for her.


    ¡°For chess, obviously.¡±


    He touched her lightly across the back. She didn¡¯t flinch¡ªmuch.


    ¡°Your wine.¡± He held the glass to her.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She took it carefully out of his hand. It was a small glass, and he was hoping that in taking it from him, her fingers would accidentally brush against his. But no such luck. She pried the glass away without touching him, and pulled it in, close to her chest. Brand gritted his teeth. It had been two weeks since Lotte left, and he¡¯d been testing the boundaries of touch. So far, he hadn¡¯t had much luck.


    ¡°Do you play chess?¡± he asked her, going back to the wine tumblers.


    ¡°I used to play with my father,¡± she replied.


    ¡°Hm.¡± He poured himself a glass.


    ¡°Do you play?¡±


    ¡°Not in the usual way,¡± he said.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    He turned to look at her. ¡°In my version, the game doesn¡¯t stop until all your opponent¡¯s pieces are gone or the other player surrenders. Every time a king crosses a board, you get another rook. And at the start of each game, both players make up one new rule.¡±


    Seri frowned. ¡°How is that chess?¡±


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    ¡°It¡¯s the way I was taught. Truer to life, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    She took a sip of wine.


    ¡°Do you want to play?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see a chess board.¡±


    Brand gestured. The top of the game table flipped over, revealing the black and white chess board on the other side.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it sounds,¡± he said. ¡°It moves quicker than a normal game. You might enjoy it.¡±


    Seri looked at the drawer of chess pieces and took it out of the cabinet.


    ¡°What sort of rules can we make up?¡± she asked, putting the pieces on the table.


    Brand was a little surprised she agreed. He¡¯d assumed that Seri would be insist on playing the proper way. He walked over to the table.


    ¡°Anything is permissible,¡± he said.


    ¡°So I could say that I get two moves each turn?¡±


    ¡°And I could say I get three.¡±


    He was standing quite close to her, close enough to observe the way the candlelight flickered across her cheek. Her eyes were on the chess pieces, her hands busily sorting the black from white. He reached in to take a piece, carelessly bumping her hand as she did. She froze, pulled her hands out of the box, and moved away.


    ¡°Not a fun game,¡± she said, ¡°if both sides are trying to see how much they can get away with.¡±


    ¡°Well, we can make it fair.¡± Brand continued to sort through the pieces, tossing her the black ones and keeping the white for himself. ¡°The rule applies equally to both sides. If you get two moves per turn, so do I. Is that the rule you want?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve always hated how immobile the king is. I want him to have the same power as the queen.¡±


    ¡°Does the queen have the same power as the king?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Can she make castles?¡±


    Seri thought. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°This is going to be a brutal game,¡± he said. ¡°Kings and queens can¡¯t kill pawns. That¡¯s my rule. It will balance out the power, I think.¡±


    Seri sat down. ¡°This will be interesting.¡±


    ¡°Are you good at chess?¡± Brand asked, sitting down across from her.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to lose.¡±


    He slaughtered her. He knew he would. People who played chess the traditional way could not seem to grasp the new rules. Their minds were still bent to protecting the king. Same with Seri. She tried to adapt, but she fell into old patterns. He watched her as he wiped out piece after piece. She ground her teeth and fisted her hands. And when she finally lost, she folded her arms and let out a puff of breath.


    ¡°Well, that was embarrassing,¡± she said.


    ¡°We can play the traditional way, if you like.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll play your way.¡±


    He grinned. ¡°You don¡¯t like to lose, do you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I love to lose. Every time I lose, I learn something. Before long, I will beat you at your own game.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± he said, pushing the pieces toward her. ¡°Not any time soon.¡±

 Chapter 26

    Seri was beautiful by candlelight.


    Her skin, illuminated by the soft glow, as she leaned over the chess board. Her hair, blending into shadows, wayward curls reflecting the light. The curve of her neck. The way she bit her lip, twisting it under her teeth.


    Brand idly played with a chess piece. He wondered what it would be like to touch her. Not just with his hands either. With his lips. To kiss her from her cheek down along the curve of her neck, to her throat.


    ¡°Brand?¡±


    She was staring at him.


    ¡°Your move.¡±


    Her dark eyes shone in the candlelight. She had such dangerous eyes. It made him want to blurt out all sorts of secrets. It made him want to lean over and kiss her full on the mouth. Not softly, either. He wanted to crush her body to his and kiss her until she couldn¡¯t breathe, until her knees gave out, and they were on the floor, tumbling together.


    Brand swatted a piece off the board.


    ¡°Your turn,¡± he said.


    * * *


    It was all well and good to fantasize. But that fantasy was never going to happen. Four weeks since the truth spell, twenty-eight evening playing games in his private room. Every evening, Brand offered his arm to Seri, and every evening, she refused it, walking to the door alone. If he couldn¡¯t get her to touch him, how on earth was he going to get her into bed?


    He wasn¡¯t. It was as simple as that.


    He wanted her, but he wasn¡¯t going to have her.


    And that was fine. She was one girl. She would leave, and his lust would die once he stopped seeing her. He¡¯d dealt with this before.


    So Brand finished his illusion of her¡ªwhich he hated, because he couldn¡¯t seem to capture the quality that made Seri, Seri¡ªand he ordered a dinner of her favorite foods, which he now knew, because he¡¯d asked her. Quail and rice and chestnut stuffing, blueberry tarts and chocolate cake. And brandy, though she didn¡¯t like to admit it. He thought about buying her a chess set as a gift, but he decided against it. She wouldn¡¯t take it, and it would sit in a corner of his room, reminding him of her.


    ¡°What is all this?¡± Seri asked, when the desserts were brought out.


    ¡°It¡¯s a special occasion,¡± Brand said. He¡¯d dressed in his finest clothes, pressed and laundered, and had gotten his hair to stay in place. He wasn¡¯t wearing any illusions. He¡¯d stopped putting them on. She preferred his real face.


    Seri helped herself to a slice of cake. ¡°You know, my birthday isn¡¯t for another two days.¡±


    He jolted. ¡°Your birthday?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°August 17<sup>th</sup>. I¡¯ll be eighteen.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°But that¡¯s not what this is about, is it?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    ¡°So what is this for, then?¡± she asked, tapping her fork against the plate.


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    ¡°Be sure to try a blueberry tart.¡±


    ¡°Brand.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s been three months since I kidnapped you.¡±


    Her face darkened. ¡°We¡¯re celebrating that?¡±


    ¡°We are celebrating what could be your last night here. And your birthday, I suppose, since I won¡¯t be around to see it.¡±


    He poured a glass of brandy for himself.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to sleep with you,¡± she said.


    ¡°I am aware,¡± he said.


    ¡°And I¡¯m not going to steal my family¡¯s magic, either.¡±


    ¡°We will talk about what you will and won¡¯t do later.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Later,¡± he said loudly. ¡°We¡¯re having dinner. Let¡¯s enjoy it. Please.¡±


    Seri said nothing, but she did not touch her chocolate cake. Brand looked down at his liquor and realized that he didn¡¯t have much appetite, either. It was like celebrating a funeral. He put his cup down.


    ¡°All right.¡± He stood up. ¡°Let¡¯s adjoin to the private room then. Get this over with.¡±


    He did not offer his arm. He knew she would not take it.


    Brand walked over to his drink cabinet and poured two glasses of water. Most of the time, he came to bargain knowing what it was he wanted from each girl. But he didn¡¯t know what he wanted from Seri.


    He¡¯d kidnapped her because her famous uncle might have helped with the massacre of his family. But he¡¯d since learned that uncle was a recluse, hiding from the world. Punishing Seri for his supposed crimes seemed petty, at best. Seri¡¯s family had no money and limited power. Even if they did have some magic stored away in the vault, he didn¡¯t want that. He wanted her, but she¡¯d never offer that.


    Brand put the water glasses on the chessboard. Seri was still standing. One hand was holding onto the edge of the table, while her other arm wrapped around her stomach. She looked like she was bracing herself. She needn¡¯t be so worried. He was in a generous mood.


    ¡°You want to go home, I take it,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°You know I do,¡± Seri replied.


    He nodded. ¡°I know you won¡¯t sleep with me. I know you won¡¯t steal. I know there¡¯s a lot you won¡¯t do, but I¡¯m curious. What are you willing to do in order to go home?¡±


    Seri looked him in the eye. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    He rolled his eye. She probably still thought he had sex on his mind. He did¡ªbut that wasn¡¯t what he was asking.


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to seduce you, Seri, really I¡¯m not. I want to know what you have to offer.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not offering you anything.¡±


    ¡°Start with something small. You might be surprised¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not listening, Brand. I¡¯m not saying I have nothing to give you. I am saying, I am not going to bargain with you.¡±


    He blinked.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to go home?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± she said. ¡°More than anything.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡ª?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to pay you a ransom. You kidnapped me. You threatened my life. You¡¯ve done these things. I want you to break the curse and send me home, but not because I give you something. I want you to do it, because it is the right thing to do.¡±


    He stared at her.


    She stared right back.


    He felt he should laugh. He felt he should rage. He felt he should throw on his grandfather¡¯s face and shake the tables and remind her that she was a prisoner, his prisoner, and had no right to demand anything of him.


    He took a step toward her. ¡°What makes you think I would do this for you?¡±


    Seri¡¯s hand tightened around her stomach. She didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m a good man?¡± Brand said.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re capable of doing the right thing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I asked.¡±


    She looked down.


    ¡°No,¡± she said at last. ¡°Not particularly. But you could become one.¡±


    Something in him snapped.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to change, Seri. Not for you, not for anyone. I am who I am, and my choices are my own. I act in accordance to my desires. Not what is expected of me, not what is lawful, not what is right. What I want.¡± He leaned over her. ¡°Staking your body and your mind on me changing is a supremely foolish proposition. I suggest you re-think it.¡±


    She looked up.


    ¡°I have thought about it. It is foolish. And I don¡¯t expect you to change. But I don¡¯t care. You can do what you want, Brand. You have done what you want, and in your head, you¡¯ve justified it. But it is still wrong. I will come to dinner with you. I will play chess. I will answer your questions. But I will not sell my soul to make you feel better about yourself.¡±


    She was breathing hard. He could see her chest rise and fall, and her cheeks were flushed. Brand realized his mouth was dry. He picked up his glass of water and took a sip. There were no thoughts in his head, nothing he thought he should say or do. If he had any strong emotions, he could not yet discern what they were.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, after a long pause. ¡°Since you¡¯re going to be staying here¡­ it seems I¡¯ll have to get you a birthday present, after all.¡±

 Chapter 27

    Three new saplings, eight pots of chrysanthemums, a heavy jacket, and a book on fall plants. That¡¯s what Brand got for Seri birthday.


    He probably shouldn¡¯t have gotten her anything. It felt like he was rewarding her for her defiance, for her willfully naivety. But if Seri was going to stay for the fall, he wanted her to be comfortable.


    Her grace period was up. The changes would start kicking in.


    Slowly, though. Brand knew this from experience. Seri could stay through fall and still be fine, but by winter, the curse would start to hurt. So he had three more months with her. Maybe.


    He¡¯d never had a girl stay through autumn.


    He shouldn¡¯t be happy about it.


    He wasn¡¯t happy. He was miserable.


    He still watched her garden and played her at chess and spoke to her at dinner and fantasized about sleeping with her and kept his hands to himself. It was torture. He shouldn¡¯t want her, but he did. Badly.


    He tried to distract himself.


    He went into a tavern, one day. He saw a girl with curly hair. It might have been brown, but in the dim light, it looked black. She had eyes that shone in the candlelight. She laughed, when he flirted with her. She touched his shoulder. She probably wouldn¡¯t sleep with him, but she might let him kiss her. Along her neck. On her lips. So hard she couldn¡¯t breathe.


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    Because she didn¡¯t know what he did to other girls.


    She didn¡¯t know he kidnapped them and held them prisoner.


    Brand smiled at her and bought her a drink and told her he had to go home to his wife. He didn¡¯t have a wife. He probably never would. That was fine. He didn¡¯t want a wife. He didn¡¯t want a woman to sleep with him out of obligation and raise his children with a perpetual frown on her face. He wouldn¡¯t marry a woman who didn¡¯t love him. All of him. The good parts and bad. The sound decisions and the mistakes.


    God, he made a lot of mistakes.


    Brand paced through the town. What was he going to do? He couldn¡¯t lust after Seri all autumn. He was going to lose control. He wished he could find some other girl to obsess over, but his desires didn¡¯t work that way. He might find a girl pretty, but it took him weeks, maybe even months to decide he wanted her. Spending one evening with a girl, no matter how pretty or charming or witty, was not going to do the trick.


    If only there were other girls in the house¡­.


    Outside the tavern, a group of townsmen clinked their mugs.


    ¡°What shall we drink to now?¡±


    ¡°How about the health of our lord¡¯s newly betrothed?¡±


    ¡°May she give him many warm nights in the cold days to come.¡±


    Brand donned a disguise and walked over them.


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± he asked, ¡°but what is the name of the lady?¡±


    ¡°Mistress Gretchen of Castle Aurich.¡±


    He knew the name of the castle. It was on his list of possible places his enemy¡¯s bloodline could be hiding. Not high on his list, but even so.


    Normally, Brand didn¡¯t kidnap girls in the autumn. He spent the colder months researching and planning. But there was nothing to plan now. The male heirs were dead, the female heirs were hidden. Only the dragon spell would tell him, and that relied on luck. Trial and error. The more girls he¡¯d kidnapped, the closer he¡¯d be.


    So why wait?


    Gretchen of Castle Aurich.


    Not a powerful castle. But close. He could probably breach it tonight, without much work. It seemed like fate. And if he was very lucky, Gretchen would be beautiful and witty and charming. She would smile at him and laugh and make him forget all about Seri.

 Chapter 28

    Brand was not lucky. Lady Gretchen of Castle Aurich was a child.


    By law, she had to be at least thirteen to be married, but she looked closer to ten. Gretchen stood, at most, 4¡¯ 11.¡± She was pale and thin, with no curves to her body and seemed as fragile as a dove. It made Brand angry. Why were girls married off so young and getting younger all the time?


    Gretchen had not struggled when he kidnapped her. He did not want to fly for miles with her cramped in a rug. So, a few minutes past her castle, Brand stopped at a ruined mill, unwrapped the rug, and let her out.


    She crawled slowly onto the creaking boards of the mill. Sunlight streamed in through the holes of the roof, and he could see that Gretchen had black hair, so black it was almost blue. She pulled her knees into her arms and stared up at him. Her eyes were blue and weary, with dark circles underneath them. She uttered no sound.


    ¡°Lady Gretchen,¡± he said. ¡°You are my prisoner now.¡±


    She did not react. It felt pointless to tell her not to scream or cry or run.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡± Brand said. ¡°But¡ªyou need to listen to me and do as you¡¯re told. Do you understand?¡±


    She nodded.


    Brand unrolled the rug. ¡°Get on.¡±


    She didn¡¯t stand. She crawled on her hands and knees, and when she was in the very center of the rug, she curled up into a ball again, hiding her head. Brand sat down next to her. As they pulled into the sky, he noticed she was shaking, so he took off his cloak and laid it on top of her. He didn¡¯t think it was that cold; it was a beautiful, crisp September day. But they were flying high and her dress was thin.


    Gretchen did not cry the whole trip. She might have been a bundle of clothes under his cloak, for all that she moved. And yet, the more he stared at her, the more his throat tightened and his body heated and he felt sick. Had he always felt so guilty about kidnapping girls?


    He tried to think of the last girl he¡¯d stolen.


    Seri.


    He hadn¡¯t felt guilty, then.


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    Seri was in the garden. He saw her as he flew over the wall. He hoped she did not see him, but she probably did. He opened the window to what had once been Lotte¡¯s room. He hadn¡¯t prepared it, so the room was dusty, but Lotte¡¯s old dresses hung in the cabinet.


    Brand locked the doors and windows and set the rug gently on the floor. Gretchen was still curled up in a ball, so quiet, he thought she might have fallen asleep. But she was not asleep, he realized as he lifted the cape. Her body was stiff and rigid, and her breathing was erratic.


    ¡°This is your room, Gretchen,¡± he said. ¡°For the next few months, at least.¡±


    She didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Stand up,¡± Brand commanded gently.


    Very slowly, Gretchen hobbled to her feet. She did not look at him or at the room. Her head was down, and she stared at the floor. Brand thought to offer her a drink, but there was nothing in the room.


    ¡°Lie down.¡± He motioned at the bed.


    With the tiniest steps, she made her way to the bed. Gretchen crawled up onto the covers and lay on her side, curled into a ball, like a little pill bug.


    ¡°I need you to lie flat on your back. Please.¡±


    She uncurled herself. She was shaking very hard and sniffling softly.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to¡ª¡± he started to say, but stopped. What was the point? Just get it over with. Brand summoned the dragon curse and forced it into her body. It was over. The worst was done.


    ¡°Sit up,¡± he commanded


    She sat.


    ¡°I¡¯ve put a curse on you,¡± Brand explained. ¡°In three months, you will turn into a dragon, unless I release you from it. I will release you, but only if you agree to give me what I want.¡±


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Gretchen asked in a hoarse whisper. It was the first thing he¡¯d heard her say.


    ¡°We¡¯ll discuss it later.¡±


    Actually, Brand didn¡¯t know what he wanted. He¡¯d considered not cursing her at all. But if he did that, Seri would think he¡¯d gone soft, that she was getting to him¡ªwhich was the last thing he wanted her to think.


    Brand walked over to the dresser and pulled out a handkerchief.


    ¡°For now,¡± he said, handing it to her, ¡°dry your eyes, wipe your nose, compose yourself. When you¡¯re ready, go downstairs and meet the other¡­ Seri. She¡¯s also my¡­ prisoner.¡± The word seemed to stick to his tongue. ¡°She¡¯ll explain what¡¯s going on. Dinner is at seven. Please, dress for the occasion.¡±


    He unlocked the door, picked up his cloak, and walked downstairs. He thought about removing the illusion he wore, but he decided against it. He didn¡¯t want Seri to see what he was really thinking.


    * * *


    Seri was at the bottom of the staircase. Her boots were muddy, and her gardening gloves were still on. He glanced at her face and saw a look of horror in her eyes.


    ¡°What have you done?¡±


    Brand fixed his gaze on the door of his tower.


    ¡°We have a new visitor,¡± he replied, brushing past her. He found, to his surprise, that his voice came out strong and even.


    ¡°Another girl? Why?¡±


    ¡°This is what I do, Seri,¡± he said coldly and heard her draw a breath. ¡°Her name¡¯s Gretchen. Tell her the rules and make her feel at home.¡±


    ¡°You want me to¡ª?¡±


    ¡°She can sit at my left. I¡¯ll see her in my room after dinner.¡±


    He walked into his tower and shut the door behind him, before she could say anything else.

 Chapter 29

    It had been a long time since he¡¯d worn any face beside his own to dinner. Brand stared at the mirror as illusion after illusion flickered by. He hated them all. He hated the memories they brought back, trying to please one girl with this face, seduce another girl with that. He kept flipping through them, because as much as he hated those faces, he hated his own even more.


    ¡°I never promised you anything,¡± he yelled to his mirror. ¡°I told you I wasn¡¯t going to change. I act according to my desire. I desire revenge. Don¡¯t look as me as though you had any hopes for me being a better man. You¡¯re the one who said I was never any good to begin with.¡±


    Consequences.


    This is what happens when you tell a girl you like her.


    Brand put on the face of the man he hated most. A young man, maybe sixteen, with brown hair and brown eyes, soft skin and a perfect smile. A handsome face, women said, though Brand had always thought the eyes too beady, the nose too sneering. It was the face of the man who had stolen his lover away.


    ¡°You¡¯re no fun anymore,¡± Lady Genoveve had told him. ¡°All you want to do is cry and talk about your dead mother. I¡¯ve found someone else. I don¡¯t want you anymore.¡±


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    He¡¯d seen them together. Brand never knew he could hate someone that much.


    There was a moment, when he had the boy tied and dangling over the river that Brand really thought he¡¯d kill him. And maybe Lady Genoveve as well. He thought of their bodies washing up on the shore, all pale and bloated, their limbs tangled together. A romantic notion.


    He decided against it. Brand did not want his mother, now an angel in heaven, looking down on earth to see her son had become a murderer. So he only knocked the boy out and wore his face over his own. He used the illusion to break into Lady Genoveve¡¯s bedchamber, where he proceeded to break, rip, and burn every pretty thing she owned.


    But that wasn¡¯t enough. Her husband would just replace it. Everything was replaceable to her. Instead, he broke into their vault, ripped up their spell books, shattered the magical orbs, and set fire to the ruins. He wanted them to lose their power, their history¡ªeverything. He wanted them to suffer the way he had suffered.


    Looking at the face now, Brand thought it seemed a fitting one to wear it to dinner.


    A lump of lead sat in his stomach. It jostled as he climbed down the stairs to appear before the girls at the stroke of seven. Gretchen wore a pale blue dress that was too big and sagging at the shoulders. She had bruises up her arms. Brand hadn¡¯t given her those. Seri held Gretchen¡¯s hand. She wore her red velvet dress, and her jaw was clenched tight. Her eyes blazed with fury.


    ¡°Good evening, ladies,¡± Brand said. ¡°Shall we go to dinner?¡±

 Chapter 30

    The cook apologized for not making enough food. She had not expected the additional company, she explained. Brand told her it was fine. No one ate much anyway. Brand drank cup after cup of wine but had no appetite for the food.


    After dinner, Seri stood up.


    ¡°Gretchen isn¡¯t feeling well. She will be unable to join you in your private room tonight.¡±


    Brand blinked. ¡°You know the rules.¡±


    ¡°Yes. One girl follows you to your room after dinner. Gretchen has a cold, so if you are going to talk to anyone, it is going to be me.¡±


    Seri glared at him. She was standing and he was slumped in his chair. Brand didn¡¯t like that. He lurched to his feet.


    ¡°Gretchen,¡± he said, ¡°are you sick?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, staring down at her plate.


    She was shivering and pale. He¡¯d assumed she was afraid. And maybe she was. But she¡¯d also been sniffling a lot. Either way, it wasn¡¯t as if he¡¯d planned to have a long and stimulating conversation with her.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Seri, take Gretchen upstairs and make sure she has everything she needs. Once she¡¯s all tucked in, come back down and join me in my room. Not my bedroom, my¡ªyou know.¡±


    God, he¡¯d drunk too much.


    Seri took Gretchen by the hand and led her away.


    In his private room, Brand brewed the strongest tea he had. He needed to sober up when Seri arrived. If she arrived. He wasn¡¯t sure he wanted her to show up. His stomach felt hot and wriggling, as if all his intestines had come alive. His head pounded. Maybe he was catching a cold. Maybe it was going around.


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    He sank into his chair.


    How long should he wait for Seri? And what would he do if she didn¡¯t come? Not mention it and pretend everything was normal. Brand sighed. But if he did, it would set a bad example to Gretchen. He¡¯d have to confront her.


    What would he do, if Seri went back to being the stubborn Seri he knew in those early days, if she decided to defy him on every little thing? Last time, it took starvation and the persuasion of the other girls to get her to sit with him at dinner. He didn¡¯t have the other girls, and he couldn¡¯t stop feeding her. And was it worth all that fighting, just to sit in uncomfortable silence? Maybe he could change the rules, throw her off. Give her no rules and dare her to defy him then.


    No, that was a stupid idea.


    Right now, all his ideas were stupid. He rubbed his face. What was wrong with him?


    His tea kettle whistled. Brand took it off the flame and filled his tea pot. When he turned to bring it to the table, he jumped. Seri stood in the door frame.


    ¡°You¡¯re here,¡± he said.


    ¡°You told me to come back.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d¡ª¡± He stopped. The truth spell was still in effect. ¡°Yes, I did tell you. Come in.¡±


    Seri took a step inside. She didn¡¯t sit, though, but stood by the chair with her arms crossed.


    ¡°How long do you plan to keep doing this?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Doing what?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb. You know why I¡¯m angry.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Brand poured himself a wobbly cup of tea. ¡°But you shouldn¡¯t be surprised. This is what I do. This is¡­ I am¡­¡±


    He overpoured and burned his hand. He winced and put it down.


    ¡°You know the kind of man that I am, Seri. This is the life I¡¯ve chosen.¡±


    ¡°You could have something better than this.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want¡ª¡± any better. He couldn¡¯t get the words out of his mouth. ¡°¡ªto change,¡± he finished, at last. ¡°Though I have changed my mind about one thing. I don¡¯t want you in the room, Seri. Leave.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to deal with the truth?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not feeling well. Maybe I caught Gretchen¡¯s cold. Or drank too much.¡±


    ¡°You did drink too much.¡±


    ¡°Yes. And it¡¯s lowered my inhibitions. I don¡¯t think you want to be alone with me tonight. Not with¡­ in my head¡­ my thoughts¡­ I might regret¡­¡±


    Damn, he couldn¡¯t even sound sinister. Brand blinked and rubbed his eyes.


    ¡°Leave me alone,¡± he concluded lamely.


    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll talk tomorrow,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything else to say on this matter.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡± care what you have to say. ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡± want to talk to you. ¡°Talk all you want, I¡¯m not¡ª¡± going to listen. ¡°Go away, Seri!¡± he yelled.


    Seri shook her head and walked out.

 Chapter 31

    Brand¡¯s head pounded all night long, and his stomach wriggled and lurched. Several times he threw up. Was it the alcohol or the guilt? Brand tossed and turned in his bed, but he couldn¡¯t sleep.


    By morning, he was a mess, unfit to be seen by civil company. He called through his mirror for the maid to send breakfast to his room. Then, he thought about using his mirrors again. He¡¯d built them to check on the girls, make sure they were eating, that they weren¡¯t hurting themselves. He hadn¡¯t used them for a while, but maybe he should. Gretchen was sick. He should check in on her.


    He woke Gretchen¡¯s mirror.


    Seri had told the girls the mirrors were enchanted, and the girls had subsequently covered them up. Right now all Brand saw was the gray shadow of the cloth. But he could still hear out of it. Gretchen sniffed, and the bed creaked when she moved. There wasn¡¯t much to hear.


    Then he heard a knock.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Gretchen said in her hoarse voice.


    ¡°It¡¯s me, Seri.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Can I come in?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He heard the door open.


    ¡°I brought you porridge,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry.¡±


    ¡°I know. But you have to keep up your strength.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just going to turn into dragons.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already turning into one. And I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯d rather become a dragon than steal from my father.¡±


    Brand frowned. He was going to have to look into the patriarch of Castle Aurich. He did not like those bruises on Gretchen¡¯s arms.


    ¡°We still might be rescued,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Who will rescue us?¡± Gretchen asked.


    ¡°My uncle,¡± Seri replied, after a long pause. ¡°He¡¯s a powerful sorcerer.¡±


    Brand¡¯s stomach twisted.


    ¡°More powerful than him?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Seri said softly. ¡°And Brand has made other enemies. There were other girls before you came. Lotte, she was about your age. And Ida, she came from a powerful line. He sent them home.¡±


    ¡°So he says.¡±


    ¡°He told me, under a truth spell. He sent them home. They know who he is. They know I¡¯m here. The families will organize against him. They will kill him and rescue us. We won¡¯t turn into dragons. We¡¯ll be saved.¡±


    Brand turned the mirror off.


    He felt shaken and sick¡ªeven more sick than he¡¯d been a minute ago. Seri wanted him dead? It shouldn¡¯t have been a surprise, but it was. He hadn¡¯t thought her capable of that. Granted, Seri had tried to stab him the first time they met, so she clearly wasn¡¯t opposed to violence. No, it was the hypocrisy that bothered him. That Seri could speak to him of what was good and right, all the while praying for his death.


    Brand took a deep breath. Then another.


    It was a relief. Now he wouldn¡¯t have to struggle with his feelings for her.


    He ate breakfast and felt better. He cleaned himself up and walked downstairs. He saw Gretchen and Seri in the library. Gretchen was sewing, and Seri was paging through her book of fall plants.


    Brand entered the room. Gretchen looked up. Brand took a book off the shelf. Seri turned a page. Brand sat down in the chair across from her. Gretchen picked up her sewing and quietly left the room. Seri kept reading. The sunlight from the window shone upon her hair. She looked beautiful in the sunlight too, but that was inconsequential.


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    Finally, Seri put a bookmark in the page.


    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I can talk, now, if that¡¯s what you mean.¡±


    Ser closed the book. ¡°Let¡¯s go to your private room, then.¡±


    ¡°We can talk here.¡±


    ¡°The truth spell¡ª¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Brand said. ¡°I don¡¯t lie. You don¡¯t lie. We can talk in any room in this house and have the same conversation.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± She folded her hands over her book. ¡°How long are you going to keep doing this?¡±


    ¡°Until I have my revenge.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to punish every single magical family?¡±


    ¡°No, just the right one.¡±


    ¡°And the innocent girls?¡±


    ¡°No one is innocent.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°This again.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Again. My opinion hasn¡¯t changed. I know your strategy. Get me to trust you, then plot behind my back. So Lotte and Ida sent messages back. And you¡¯re all just waiting for me to step outside my tower, so that your families can descend on me, is that it?¡±


    ¡°You were listening in on my conversation with Gretchen?¡±


    ¡°I keep the mirrors for a reason, Seri.¡±


    She looked away, but just for a second. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything I regretted,¡± she said, looking him in the eye. ¡°And frankly, I didn¡¯t say anything you didn¡¯t already know. You¡¯ve made enemies. They will come for you.¡±


    ¡°If you plan to wait this out, you will lose. Your grace period is over. In less than a year¡¯s time, you will become a dragon. I suggest you start bargaining with me, Seri. Swallow your pride and make me an offer.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Brand stared at her.


    ¡°So we¡¯re back to where we began. It¡¯s nice to know these last four months were a waste of time. God, I don¡¯t know why I tried so hard to get you to like me, when you¡¯ve been determined to hate me from the start.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hate you, Brand.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± he said skeptically. ¡°Because all evidence points to the contrary.¡±


    ¡°I thought about hating you,¡± Seri admitted. ¡°But I decided against it. If hatred was the way¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are so self-righteous, you know that.¡± He threw up his hands in disgust. ¡°You decided not to hate me. You decided how to feel.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know what you¡¯re saying! Right or wrong. Black or white. There is never any compromise with you. You have this image of yourself as this perfect, pure-hearted angel¡ª¡±


    ¡°I struggle to do what is right, in large part thanks to you¡ª¡±


    ¡°There you go again! Blaming me. You struggle to do what is right, because you¡¯re human, Seri, because deep down you¡¯re no better than anybody else¡ª¡±


    ¡°I never claimed otherwise!¡±


    ¡°¡ªand you are certainly capable of hatred!¡± he shouted, jumping to his feet. ¡°So admit you hate me. You have every reason to, and I can certainly give you more.¡±


    ¡°You are impossible, you know that!¡± Seri yelled.


    ¡°I¡¯m impossible.¡±


    ¡°You want to hear that I hated you? Fine.¡± Seri rose to her feet. ¡°I did. I hated you when you kidnapped me and for a good month after that. And I justified it to myself. I said that I needed to hate you in order to know what was right. But that way of thinking is wrong. I realized it was wrong, and I stopped doing it.¡±


    ¡°But you still want me to die,¡± he said.


    She blinked. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I heard you. I heard you say how your powerful uncle and his powerful friends are going to find me and kill me. Well, guess what. Wanting someone to hurt and suffer and die¡ªthat is hatred.¡±


    For a long time, Seri didn¡¯t speak. She stood staring at the wall. Brand thought he¡¯d won, and he felt both elated and hollow. Because now he knew she did hate him, and as much as he wanted to throw it in her face, he also wanted to be wrong.


    ¡°You captured me, Brand,¡± Seri said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re turning me into a dragon¡ª¡±


    ¡°As I said, you have every reason¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hate you. I like you.¡±


    He froze.


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± she added. ¡°When you want to, you can be kind and thoughtful and generous. You can also be petulant and argumentative and mean. Regardless, you are not a monster. It would be easier for me to see you that way. But I don¡¯t.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°Even so, I don¡¯t want to be here. I want to go home. You could do it. You could set me free right now, but you won¡¯t. What do I have to hope for? I have to hope for something. I don¡¯t want to hope for your death, but if you won¡¯t do what is right, what else is left for me?¡±


    ¡°You could make me an offer,¡± he said.


    ¡°I told you Brand¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just swallow your pride¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªI am not going to corrupt my soul¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªand grant me one little concession¡­¡±


    ¡°¡ªso that you can feel justified!¡±


    ¡°The spell is not reversable, Seri!¡± He pounded his hand across the table. ¡°Once you are a dragon, I cannot change you back. If you turn into a dragon, what will you have to hope for then?¡±


    Seri looked away. ¡°My death, I suppose.¡±


    Brand stared. She wasn¡¯t serious. She couldn¡¯t be serious. She would die, she would martyr herself over this? All she needed to do was give him something. Anything. He didn¡¯t care what it was. He didn¡¯t want to see her lovely eyes become slitted, her hands turn to claws. He could stand to hear her self-righteous speeches converted to the angry roar of a beast. It would kill him to know that he¡¯d done this to her.


    And she knew it, too.


    ¡°This is all a game to you,¡± he said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a game, Brand,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°An abstract concept, then. Suffering. Dying. Being a martyr. You don¡¯t know what it feels like. When the changes come, when your insides turn to lava and your bones begin to shift, you¡¯ll change your mind.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You will change your mind,¡± he insisted. ¡°You¡¯re not going to die, Seri. You will yield to me and make an offer and I will turn you back. Because that is how it works. Those are my rules, and I will not change them for you.¡±

 Chapter 32

    She was still beautiful in the candlelight.


    Every night Brand thought so. He kept waiting for his feelings to change. To get tired of watching Seri¡¯s hands flutter across the chess board, hovering over the pieces, never quite touching them. To get bored of the way she bit her lip, right before she moved her queen in for the attack. To disdain the way she scowled when he knocked out her king, not a fatal move in this game, but one that annoyed her nonetheless.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to beat you,¡± she said.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±


    He still wanted to kiss her.


    Maybe not a long, passionate kiss. Not right now. The trust between them was too bruised. But he did fantasize about giving her something, a perfect, wonderful gift, and watching her smile. He¡¯d tell her, ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± and she¡¯d say, ¡°It¡¯s all right.¡± Then she¡¯d lean over and kiss him.


    He didn¡¯t say sorry.


    And nothing was all right.


    Because they were locked in this chessboard of black and white, pitting their wills against each other, this night, every night. They argued and fought, he threatened her, she prayed for his death, and still, he wanted to kiss her.


    This night. Every night.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving, tomorrow,¡± Brand said, knocking out her pawn.


    ¡°Oh?¡± she replied.


    ¡°Just for a little while. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Seri said. ¡°You always come back.¡±


    * * *


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    There was a wedding going on. Manservants¡ªor maybe they were relatives¡ªset out a large table out on the courtyard, girls in their best dresses braided their hair, and women made flowers into bouquets. Brand shifted the rug on his back, felt the pressure of the lute¡¯s neck in his hand. Stealing the bride from her own wedding. That was low, even for him.


    Petronille of House Delmen. That¡¯s who he was after. She didn¡¯t even have a proper castle; no blood magic to protect her. It had been easy to sneak in wearing the guise of a wandering minstrel. It would be easy to steal her away.


    Did he need to, though? Brand tuned the strings of his lute. Even if Petronille was the secret granddaughter of his enemy, would he derive any satisfaction from punishing her? What if he turned around and left? Nobody could stop him.


    And then what would he do?


    Go home, to where Seri was, and let her go, too. Send Gretchen back, close up his tower, stop kidnapping girls altogether. Resign himself to his fate. Brand couldn¡¯t imagine stopping. This was his life. Vengeance was all he had.


    He saw her. The bride.


    He¡¯d cast a simple seeking spell, so he knew it was her. Petronille was not dressed in her wedding finery. Instead she wore a simple pale dress. In the morning fog, she seemed a wraith, sneaking out the back door, alone. He followed her. She was slim and willowy, her hair a fine blond. Petronille ran to small orchard by the side of the house, collapsed at the root of an apple tree, and wept.


    Brand approached slowly. ¡°Miss?¡±


    She jumped.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, wiping her eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to intrude. I¡¯ve been looking for the bride, to serenade her with my song.¡±


    ¡°I am the bride,¡± she said.


    ¡°But why are you crying?¡±


    ¡°Because the man I¡¯m to marry¡­ I hate him! He¡¯s cruel and ugly and mean.¡± Petronille cried harder. ¡°But I must marry him. My father says I must¡ªfor the sake of the family. I wish I could run away. I wish I could leave this place, go somewhere far away, be free.¡±


    Brand unrolled his rug.


    ¡°I am sorry for your sad state. Please, let me comfort you with my music. Sit on this rug, and I will play you a song.¡±


    Still sniffling, she sat.


    Brand¡¯s talent did not lie in music. His singing was dreadful, his playing was worse. But Petronille was so lost in her own misery, she didn¡¯t notice. She pressed her hands over her eyes and sobbed so hard her shoulders shook. While Brand warbled a song of two star-crossed lovers¡ªthe only one he knew¡ªhe slowly lifted up the rug and pushed it into the sky.


    He stopped playing.


    Petronille wiped her eyes. ¡°Thank you. That was¡­¡±


    She finally looked around. She blinked.


    ¡°We¡­ we¡¯re flying?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m taking you to my tower,¡± he said.


    ¡°You¡¯re rescuing me?¡±


    Rescue. He liked that word. Brand smiled.


    ¡°Yes. Yes, I am.¡±

 Chapter 33

    In theory, it was a beautiful thing to love thine enemies. In practice, it was like chewing on rocks. Seri saw Brand fly over the wall with a new girl on his carpet and threw down her gardening sheers in disgust.


    ¡°That bastard!¡± she yelled.


    Gretchen glanced at her.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. Then, ¡°No, I¡¯m not! I¡¯m going to kill him!¡±


    She threw off her gloves.


    Every day, he found new ways of testing her patience. Even when he did nothing but play chess. Especially those days. Because every time he acted normal, she wanted so badly to believe that there was some good in him. She tried so hard to get him to do what was right, and it was like bashing her head against a wall.


    He is never going to change!


    And it wouldn¡¯t have mattered if she could still pretend he was a monster, an evil and twisted demon, but that would be a lie. He was twisted, all right, but she understood him too well to think him a demon. He was just stubborn. Like her.


    She left Gretchen in the garden and stormed into the castle. She wished she could storm up to the turret where he flew and interrupt him mid-curse, but she knew the door would be locked. She could do nothing but wait for him to come down. He did so, alone, as usual, wearing the disguise of the minstrel, lute still in hand. He looked unbearably smug. Seri crossed her arms.


    ¡°Another one?¡± she said.


    ¡°Her name is Petronille,¡± Brand replied. ¡°You¡¯ll like her. Tell her what to expect and make her feel at home.¡±


    ¡°Do not make me an accomplice in your schemes!¡±


    ¡°Fine. Say nothing and let her fend for herself.¡±


    ¡°I hate when you do this to me, Brand. You bring in these kidnapped, frightened girls, and leave me to explain to them what you want, whether you intend to rape them or not¡ª¡±


    ¡°You were going to rape me?¡±


    Seri looked up and saw the new girl peering from behind the door. She had a slender body and blond hair. Her face was heavily tear-streaked, but she seemed calm at the moment. Her eyes were dry.


    Brand looked at Seri. ¡°Well, go on and explain.¡±


    Seri clenched her jaw. Brand was infuriating. He kept trying to drag her down to his level, using her own good intentions against her.


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    ¡°No,¡± Seri told the girl. ¡°He¡¯s not going to rape you. But he will turn you into a dragon unless you give him something.¡±


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Petronille asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ll discuss that after dinner,¡± Brand said. ¡°Excuse me while I get dressed.¡±


    And just like that, Brand disappeared through the doors. Seri wanted to strangle him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Petronille said. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to eavesdrop.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. You can do whatever you like here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re mad?¡±


    ¡°Not at you. At him.¡±


    ¡°Is he your husband? Because¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Seri shouted. ¡°My husband?! He kidnapped me¡ªlike he kidnapped you.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t kidnap me. He rescued me. I was about to be married.¡±


    Seri stared.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t love the man I was to wed,¡± Petronille explained.


    ¡°Still, he shouldn¡¯t have taken you,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Maybe not. But¡­ I don¡¯t feel afraid of him. I think he may be a good man.¡±


    ¡°Good?¡± Seri sputtered.


    ¡°I suppose you know him better than I. Is he cruel?¡±


    Seri bit her tongue. She glared at the mirrors. She knew Brand was watching, probably laughing. Why did he stick her in these situations¡ªhaving to talk him up, right after he did something she hated.


    ¡°He¡¯s not intentionally cruel,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s fickle, and he has a temper. But he will not strike you or beat you or abuse you¡ªat least, I¡¯ve never seen him do such a thing.¡±


    Petronille nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll give him no cause to hate me. I¡¯m grateful, you see, to be here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re grateful?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± She lowered her head. ¡°And I won¡¯t get in your way, either. I simply want a¡­ a reprieve. A little time before I¡¯m forced to¡­ to go back.¡±


    Her voice cracked a bit.


    It occurred to Seri that this strange girl, Petronille, was more afraid of her than of Brand. Quite possibly because Seri had done nothing but yell and seethe. She was angry at Brand¡­ but that was not Petronille¡¯s fault.


    ¡°You¡¯re not in the way,¡± Seri said, more gently. ¡°You¡¯re welcome here with us. If you can, you should try to enjoy yourself. Everything you need will be provided for you.¡±


    ¡°Are we¡­ are we his mistresses?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Seri said loudly. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯d like that. But you do not need to sleep with him or touch him or even smile at him. He¡¯s got a few rules he sticks to. Dinner is at seven¡ªeveryone attends. Afterwards, he asks a girl to sit with him in his private room. That you must also do. He will ask you in tonight.¡±


    ¡°You know it will be me?¡± Petronille asked.


    ¡°Any time he brings in a new girl, he requests an audience with them,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°And what must I do?¡±


    ¡°Speak to him,¡± Seri replied. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. He merely wishes to get to know you. If he asks you questions, give him honest replies. He might ask you to play a game with him or look through some books.¡±


    Petronille nodded eagerly. ¡°I¡¯ll try to be charming. But I¡¯m not a very good conversationalist. I¡¯m not very witty or clever, you see. Do you think I shall disappoint him?¡±


    ¡°I do not think you need try so hard to impress him. We are his prisoners, after all.¡± She looked at the mirror.


    ¡°Why do you do that?¡± Petronille asked.


    ¡°He watches and listens through the mirrors,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d cover the one in your room. Shall we go outside, to my garden, where we may talk in private? You can meet Gretchen of Castle Aurich, who is also his prisoner.¡±


    ¡°And what is your name?¡±


    ¡°Serihilde of Castle Staghome. You may call me Seri.¡±


    ¡°You both come from Castles. I¡¯m only from a House¡ªHouse Delmen. We¡¯ve no magic in our bloodline.¡±


    ¡°None?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Not for generations.¡±


    That was odd, because Brand¡¯s whole excuse for revenge had to do with finding this hidden magic bloodline. It made Seri wonder if he even cared about that anymore. Part of her thought the only reason he had kidnapped Gretchen and now Petronille was to prove a point to her¡ªthat she would not change him.


    The man was insufferable.

 Chapter 34

    Petronille wore a dress that Brand had provided, one of those flouncy dresses, this one blue, which complimented her complexion. Petronille had pale, milky skin and blue eyes and her features were, if not exactly pretty, then delicate.


    ¡°My hair is a bit messy. I usually have my sister braid it. Does it seem messy?¡±


    ¡°You look fine,¡± Seri reassured her.


    Brand would surely think her lovely. Seri twisted her hands. She had not yielded to Brand in her all her months here, and he had shown no interest in Gretchen. If he wished to find a girl to warm his bed, Petronille must seem the perfect victim.


    Brand opened the door to the dining room.


    ¡°Good evening, Ladies,¡± he said. ¡°You all look beautiful tonight. Petronille, I¡¯m pleased to see you found the dresses. The color suits you.¡±


    Petronille blinked. ¡°Thank you, kind sir. And who might you be?¡±


    ¡°This is Brand,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°But¡ª?


    ¡°What you saw before was a disguise,¡± Brand explained. ¡°This is how I truly appear.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Petronille said. ¡°You¡¯re so handsome.¡±


    At this, Brand puffed like a peacock. ¡°That is the first compliment I have received in many months. And to hear it from such a beautiful girl. I am honored.¡± He bowed. ¡°But dinner awaits us, and I do not wish it to get cold. Seri, will you take my arm?¡±


    She was surprised he addressed her. ¡°Have I ever taken it?¡±


    ¡°No, but as the senior lady, I felt it only proper to offer. No?¡± He looked at Petronille. ¡°Will you take my arm, Miss?¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± Petronille said, before Seri could say that she didn¡¯t need to.


    Brand and Petronille walked in first, like a lord and lady. Seri stayed behind with Gretchen. Gretchen was wearing a wool dress that Ida had originally sewn for Lotte; the two were about the same size. Brand did not seem to care what Gretchen wore. He did not seem to bother with Gretchen much at all. In fact, when they got to the dining room, Brand sat Petronille at his left hand¡ªGretchen¡¯s spot.


    ¡°Gretchen, I hope you don¡¯t mind,¡± he said. ¡°I know you have been here longer, but conversation seems to tire you. Therefore, I think you would be happier by Seri¡¯s side. Have I offended you with this placement?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gretchen said and sat down near Seri.


    Seri sat at Brand¡¯s right hand, as she usually did. Not that it mattered much to her where she sat. This dinner ritual was all part of his game.


    Lately, though, she¡¯d begun to wonder at the games he played, why he was so intent on playing them. This one was not hard to guess at, for Brand was doing what most lords did, arranging his table according to rank and favor. The bigger game¡ªthe one she didn¡¯t understand¡ªwas the kidnapping and the curse.


    Why had he taken Petronille?


    Seduction was the obvious answer. Throughout dinner, Brand chatted¡ªnay, flirted¡ªwith Petronille. He spoke in low, soft tones, forcing her to bend her head near his just to hear him. He whispered in her ear, and she blushed and giggled. He smiled. He paid her compliments. He stopped just short of touching her, but he came close. His hand hovered near hers all evening.


    Clearly, Brand wanted to sleep with Petronille. As far as Seri knew, he hadn¡¯t bedded a woman since Rilla, which was several months ago. Petronille was sweet and willing. He desired her. He meant to have her.


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    Seri tore into the roast on her plate. What didn¡¯t make sense, though¡ªwhat had never made sense¡ªwas why Brand felt obliged to kidnap and curse the women he intended to sleep with. It seemed completely counter-productive to the endeavor. Why bring Petronille to this tower where Seri could¡ªand would¡ªdo everything in her power to keep Brand from taking advantage of the poor girl? And then why send them back home after three months?


    Then, there was Gretchen. Seri glanced at her. Gretchen was very slowly and stoically chewing on the bones, as if being compelled to finish her food by an invisible force. Brand had no intention of sleeping with Gretchen. He didn¡¯t seem interested in her at all. There was no reason for him to kidnap her, and he knew it, but he brought her here anyway. It made Seri wonder if he had a reason¡ªif she was trying to figure out a riddle, with no answer.


    At the end of the final course, Brand turned to look at Seri and Gretchen (for what seemed like the first time that whole evening), and announced, ¡°Ladies, thank you for the pleasant company. Dinner is now over, and I will adjoin to my private room. I would like¡ª¡±


    ¡°I can accompany you, if you wish,¡± Seri interrupted.


    Brand blinked. ¡°As much as I cherish our time together, Seri,¡± he said, with the barest hint of sarcasm, ¡°tonight I intend for Petronille to join me.¡±


    ¡°What if she¡¯s not ready?¡± Seri asked.


    Brand¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Not ready to talk?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you intend to do with her in there.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you do,¡± he said, growing irritated. ¡°You damn well know.¡±


    ¡°I know what you¡¯ve done in the past,¡± Seri said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re going to do now.¡±


    ¡°I have rules, Seri.¡±


    ¡°And this is a rule?¡± she said. ¡°That you only talk on the first night.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Brand tilted his head. ¡°I would have thought that you, of all people, would appreciate this rule.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I do,¡± Seri said. ¡°But it¡¯s a rule that restricts you, not us. So why have it?¡±


    ¡°There is a reason for my rules, Seri,¡± he said, growing heated.


    ¡°What reason?¡±


    ¡°A reason!¡± he said, standing up. ¡°The rules are there because I desire them to be there. If I did not desire them to be there, I would not have them.¡±


    ¡°You could change them.¡±


    ¡°The rules don¡¯t change. If they changed, they would not be rules.¡±


    That was circuitous reasoning. Also, it was untrue. He did change the rules. That first night he kidnapped Gretchen, he hadn¡¯t required her to visit his private room. Seri thought about pointing this out, but that would only extend their quarrel, and she didn¡¯t feel like fighting. Besides, she noticed that Petronille had sunken into her chair, and was watching them, eyes wide with fright.


    Seri stood up. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, Brand,¡± she said. ¡°I am glad you impose some restrictions on yourself. It¡¯s as close as you¡¯ll venture to a code of honor.¡±


    Brand frowned, clearly unsure of whether to take that remark as an insult or a compliment.


    ¡°Petronille,¡± Seri continued, looking at her, ¡°I¡¯m sorry if our argument frightened you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± she said quietly.


    ¡°Gretchen and I will take our leave,¡± Seri said. ¡°Unless you wish us to stay longer.¡±


    Petronille glanced at Brand, and said, ¡°No. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Good night, Seri,¡± Brand said, in a brisk voice. ¡°Good night, Gretchen,¡± he added, more gently, then he looked at the new girl. ¡°Petronille, shall we?¡±


    Brand offered Petronille his arm. She took it.


    Seri walked out of the dining room, with Gretchen following behind her. And as terrible as it sounded, a small part of Seri was relieved. Relieved that she didn¡¯t have to join Brand in his room. Relieved that, for one night at least, she was not going to have to endure this¡­ this awful heat he threw her way.


    She didn¡¯t know what else to call it¡ªthis tension, this thickness in the atmosphere. Brand was like a storm cloud, changing the pressure in the room. Seri never could tell if he¡¯d be full of thunder or bring in this gasping and choking sort of humidity. Lately, it had felt more like the latter. Every time they played chess, she could feel his eyes on her and all his frustrations pushing up against her skin.


    To have one night, not having to deal with that, with him¡ªit was a reprieve. Seri saw Gretchen up to her room and made sure she had everything she needed. Then she retired to her own room. She fell back against the bed with a sigh.


    She was so tired. Every night, the curse bent and thickened the bones in her body, so that she could hardly sleep. Her belly was a furnace, and her heart pumped so hard and heavy, she feared it would burst. It hurt. Often in the day, but mostly at night. Enduring the transformation was one of the hardest things she¡¯d had to do, but to endure him and his moods and his lust and his temper on top of all that¡­.


    It was too much.


    Petronille would be fine. Seri could rest¡ªfor one night at least.


    Seri undressed and did her nightly toilet. She said her prayers. She prayed for rescue; she prayed for strength; she prayed for the girls that had left the castle and for the girls still trapped within its walls. And she prayed for Brand. She prayed for his soul, which was squished and bent and not quite right¡ªbut which was a soul, nonetheless.


    Then she wriggled into the covers, braced for the cold coming from outside her body and the heat coming from within it, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.

 Chapter 35

    Before she was kidnapped, Seri had loved mornings. She had loved the scent of dew and the lifting of fog, the way early sunlight softened colors and made the plants look new. She loved waking up to a promise of a new beginning.


    Not anymore.


    Waking hurt. Dragging herself out of bed was a chore. There was nothing to look forward to. Morning was a reminder of another day in which rescue was not coming. She looked outside, and the fog was not beautiful. It was murky and cold.


    Still, she dressed. She brushed her hair gently and tried not to wince as chunks of it fell out. Small bumps had broken out over her belly, and day by day they spread. She hated the sight of them. They scared her.


    She shoved the fear down and went down the stairs, to the dining room.


    Petronille had beaten her to breakfast. Seri found her lifting the lid of the bowls, exclaiming at the meats and fruit, but not touching the food. She almost dropped the lid when she saw Seri.


    ¡°G-good morning, Lady Serihilde,¡± she said.


    ¡°Seri, please.¡± Seri walked inside. ¡°You aren¡¯t eating?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if we should wait for Brand.¡±


    ¡°He sleeps in. Please, help yourself.¡±


    To reassure her, Seri walked over and picked up a plate. Petronille skittered around the table, marveling over the dishes.


    ¡°There are sausages! For breakfast! And eggs, too!¡±


    ¡°And porridge and fruit and bread,¡± Seri pointed out.


    ¡°What¡¯s the occasion?¡± Petronille asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a normal breakfast,¡± Seri said.


    Petronille ran to the plates and began to eagerly scoop up the food. Seri realized, sharply, that she had taken for granted that there would always be food on the table. She¡¯d become used to having meat for every meal.


    Seri picked up a bowl and contemplated eating porridge with a little light fruit, as she would have done, at her father¡¯s house. She removed the lid from the pot and saw the steam rise. Her stomach roiled. Seri put the bowl down and went to where the sausages were and began piling them on her plate. Lately, it seemed, all she could stomach was meat. Even foods she once adored, like apples stewed with cinnamon, revolted her.


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    She cut into the sausages.


    ¡°This is delicious,¡± Petronille said. ¡°And such beautiful plates. And the flowers. Brand told me that you tend to the garden.¡±


    ¡°It gives me something to do,¡± Seri said. ¡°It¡¯s one of the things you learn. You find something to keep busy, to pass the time. I came from a small household, and it seemed there was always something to do. But here it¡¯s different. There¡¯s a lot of free time.¡±


    ¡°It sounds wonderful.¡±


    ¡°This is not a vacation. We¡¯re prisoners.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± Petronille said, looking down. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Once again, Seri got the impression that Petronille was frightened of her, almost more so than of Brand. She had no idea what to say to this. She ate into her sausage and had to restrain herself from wolfing it down. She was so hungry. Every day, she was hungry.


    ¡°So, Petronille, what did Brand talk to you about last night?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Call me, Nel, please,¡± she said nervously. ¡°That¡¯s what my friends call me.¡± She ate a spoonful of egg. ¡°Brand asked me about my family and what he could do to make me more comfortable and what sorts of things I liked. He was very nice.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t ask if you were a virgin?¡±


    Nel looked stricken. ¡°No. Nothing like that. Nothing untoward.¡±


    Seri frowned.


    ¡°I mean¡­¡± Nel said, uncomfortably. ¡°I am, if that¡¯s¡­ if it matters.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Seri said. ¡°It¡¯s just, he asked me that, my first night here. It was¡­ not a fun conversation. I just wanted to know if he did or said anything to make you uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°No. He was a perfect gentleman. He did show me¡ª¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°¡ªhis illusions.¡±


    ¡°Did that bother you?¡±


    ¡°No. I loved them. I told him they were life-like. He seemed pleased.¡± She looked at Seri closely. ¡°Was that wrong of me?¡±


    ¡°To like his illusions? No. I find them unsettling, but if you have a different opinion, why would that be wrong? I¡¯m just¡­ I¡¯m concerned, that¡¯s all. Brand is not¡­ he¡¯s not a gentleman, you understand. He has taken liberties with women he likes.¡±


    ¡°Taken liberties?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s slept with them,¡± Seri said bluntly.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Nel looked down.


    ¡°In his head, he thinks of it as seduction. That the women he sleeps with are willing, eager partners. I¡¯m just afraid, if you¡¯re too sweet, too obliging, he may take advantage of you.¡±


    ¡°Has he¡­ with you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Seri said. ¡°I¡¯ve made my feelings clear.¡±


    ¡°And he hasn¡¯t forced you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not his game. He needs you to agree to it.¡±


    Nel nodded. ¡°So I should tell him upfront that I don¡¯t want to sleep with him.¡±


    ¡°You can, but¡­ he will push you, Nel. He will try to charm you, to persuade you. Some days he will be kind and generous, some days he will angry and mean. It can be hard to resist his will. But you must do it or you will find yourself agreeing to things you never would otherwise.¡±


    Nel nodded at her, wide-eyed.


    Seri sighed. She¡¯d frightened her. Again.


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you around the tower,¡± Seri said. ¡°But first, I¡¯m going to check on Gretchen. She should be down by now.¡±


    ¡°Is there a time when we all eat?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°No. Breakfast is served at 6:00 and left on the table until 10:00. Brand eats closer to ten, I eat closer to six. But I try to keep an eye on Gretchen. She¡¯s not¡­ she¡¯s not always well.¡±

 Chapter 36

    Gretchen was sick again. She got sick quite often. Even when she was well, she never seemed to be energetic. This morning, Gretchen said she had a bad headache and chills. Seri asked if she would like to stay in bed, and she replied that she would, so Seri brought up food and water.


    ¡°Would you like some company today?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Not now,¡± Gretchen said. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go back to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Do you need an extra blanket?¡±


    ¡°That would be nice.¡±


    Seri went to her room, brought up her blanket, and laid it atop Gretchen. Gretchen thanked her politely, but her words were dull. This was not a symptom of the sickness, Seri thought, but of something worse.


    When Seri returned to the dining room, Petronille wasn¡¯t there. Seri looked around the castle. She found Nel in the library. Brand was with her.


    They sat at the table by the window, and there was a book between them. Rather than sitting opposite her, Brand sat beside Nel, so that there was hardly space between them. As soon as Seri came in, Nel looked up, a look of fear and guilt upon her face. Brand grinned, smugly.


    ¡°Good morning, Seri. What brings you to the library at this hour?¡±


    ¡°I was looking for Nel.¡±


    ¡°I asked her here. Nel is interested in drawings, and I have quite a collection. I was showing her my favorites. Care to see?¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    ¡°You might see something you like.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    ¡°See, Seri, always thinks I have the worst things on my mind,¡± he said, and though he was speaking to Nel, he was looking at her. ¡°These are plants, Seri¡ªyour specialty. And I know you¡¯ve looked at this book before, because your scraps of paper are tucked into the pages. But you won¡¯t come and look at it now. Because I¡¯m here, and that, somehow, taints the subject matter.¡±


    ¡°If I wanted to read it, I would read it on my own. Reading is a solitary activity.¡±


    ¡°You can read?¡± Nel asked, in a high-pitched, nervous voice. ¡°You must be very clever.¡±


    ¡°She is,¡± Brand said. ¡°Seri has been translating the Greek, using my dictionaries and grammar books. Hence all the notes. Of course, I do know Greek. Not well, but better than she does. I¡¯d help her translate, but she never asks. She¡¯s too stubborn, too proud.¡±


    Seri had no idea how to respond to this. She felt put on the spot, and she knew full well what he was doing. Trying to make her look bad in front of Nel.


    ¡°Do you care to join us?¡± Brand said, gesturing toward the book. ¡°You can enlighten us with your great botany expertise.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said.


    Brand blinked. ¡°Yes?¡±


    Seri took a chair and planted it at the table, across from Brand and Nel. ¡°I will share my insight¡­ and keep an eye on you.¡±


    Brand rolled his eyes. ¡°Of course. You think it¡¯s your job to chaperone Nel.¡±


    ¡°I know your intentions, Brand.¡±


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    ¡°You don¡¯t, Seri,¡± he snapped. ¡°I happen to like art. So does she. Sometimes, I like to spend time with a girl who likes the things I like and doesn¡¯t argue with me every time I try to get a word in.¡±


    Petronille cleared her throat.


    Brand glanced at her. ¡°I apologize,¡± he said. ¡°This is an old debate between me and Seri. It has nothing to do with you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Nel said. ¡°But¡­ well, Seri did say she wanted to give me a tour of the castle today. I don¡¯t think I was supposed to leave the breakfast table.¡±


    ¡°You can do whatever you like,¡± Brand said. ¡°You are not beholden to Seri. She is no different from you.¡± He stood up. ¡°But by all means, take a tour, if that is what you desire. I¡¯ll eat my breakfast, and we can look at books later. We have lots of time, after all, Nel. There¡¯s no need to rush.¡±


    He smiled at her.


    She timidly smiled back.


    Seri looked off to the side.


    Brand walked past them, leaving Seri alone with Nel.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Nel said. ¡°He came in while you were gone and asked if I wanted to see some books.¡±


    ¡°And you agreed?¡± Seri said, wearily.


    ¡°It was innocent.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s how it starts off, Nel. You agree to little things, innocent things, and then he asks you to do more and more, and before you know it, you¡¯re¡­.¡±


    She trailed off. She noticed her voice had gotten angry again. Nel looked down.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Nel said. ¡°I just like his drawings, and I wanted to see his books. I didn¡¯t know it was wrong. I won¡¯t do it again.¡±


    Seri sighed.


    ¡°Nel,¡± she said quietly, ¡°it¡¯s not about the books or even agreeing to see him. It¡¯s just¡­ I know what it feels like to be¡­ to be hunted by him. You can¡¯t be na?ve. I¡¯m not telling you this to scare you, but because you must understand his ways, if you are to resist him.¡±


    Nel fiddled with her hands. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    Nel took a deep breath. ¡°Seri, I have only known you for a little while, but it strikes me that you are very strong and very brave. I am not. I am a plain little mouse, and I tremble at the first angry word. I do not think I can resist him in the same way you do.¡±


    ¡°Nel, you are stronger than you suppose.¡±


    ¡°No. I know very little, Seri, but I do know myself. If I¡¯m to be hunted, I am likely to succumb. Not because I wish to be taken. But he has power, and I do not. What can I do? Perhaps if I am nice to him, he will be nice to me.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t wish to resist him?¡± Seri said.


    Nel shook her head. ¡°It cannot be easy, I imagine.¡± She looked away. ¡°Besides, Brand does not seem like a man who takes pleasure in the pain of others. So long as he is not cruel, well, then, I may live with him, and we may get along. I still prefer him to the man I was to wed.¡±


    ¡°You prefer Brand?¡± Seri said, taken aback.


    Nel nodded. ¡°He has yet to call me stupid, though I am. He has not struck me.¡±


    Seri felt shaken by this. Shaken and angry. She did not know what Nel had endured that Brand was preferable, and she hated the idea that someone had taken advantage of Nel¡¯s kindness. This sweet girl should not be forced to wed a man who abused her. Perhaps, Brand truly was a reprieve.


    Not much of one. Brand had his own mean streak.


    ¡°I would not have you become his prey,¡± Seri said. ¡°But you need not resist him as I do, for I know all too well the cost, and I will not ask you to pay it. If you want to go home, give Brand what he wants. It doesn¡¯t have to be sex. In fact, if you insist against it, he won¡¯t force you.¡±


    ¡°But what else could he want from me?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°In the past, it¡¯s been a family relic: your Castle¡¯s source of magic.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t have a Castle,¡± Nel said. ¡°We don¡¯t have magic.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then what could he desire?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he himself knows,¡± Seri said. ¡°I think this is some perverse habit he clings to, because he doesn¡¯t know what else he might do with his life. I would have him stop, but he won¡¯t listen to me.¡± She sighed. ¡°But in your case, Nel, you have three months to get to know him. Use that time to learn his desires, and, if possible, steer them toward something that¡­ that is not disagreeable to you.¡±


    ¡°But I have nothing.¡±


    ¡°You have your wits, your talents, your mind, your heart. You will find something.¡± Seri paused. ¡°You like art? You have a genuine interest in it?¡±


    Nel nodded.


    ¡°So does he,¡± Seri said. ¡°Start with that. Speak to him, as you would any other person. Be cordial, but do not let him take liberties with you. I will keep an eye on you, when I can, and if he acts in a way that is uncourteous, I will intervene on your behalf and put a stop to it.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t he be angry?¡±


    ¡°Not at you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want him to be mad at you, Seri.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s already mad at me,¡± Seri said. ¡°What does it matter? It is my duty to resist him, and I will do it. And you shall do your duty, as you suppose it to be. If you go home, untouched by his madness, that is enough. It¡¯s not for me to tell you.¡±


    Nel nodded. ¡°You are very kind. I¡¯m grateful for your guidance.¡±


    ¡°I was where you are not so long ago,¡± Seri said quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t wish you to suffer. I don¡¯t wish any of us to suffer.¡± She rubbed her arms. ¡°I hope we may go home soon. I wish he¡¯d let us go.¡±

 Chapter 37

    Brand did not come often into the garden. He did, however, come today, while Seri was weeding. He brought Nel. Seri glanced up from her plants, half-expecting to see them arm-in-arm. The two of them were talking and laughing, but their arms were full of papers and easels and pencil boxes.


    ¡°Seri, we have need of your most beautiful flowers,¡± Brand declared.


    ¡°We¡¯re drawing,¡± Nel said excitedly. ¡°Seri, you should see all the pretty pencils he owns. And the paper! So thick and white.¡±


    Seri cocked her head. ¡°The Cosmos are in bloom,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yes, they¡¯ll do nicely,¡± Brand said.


    The two of them puttered around the flowers for quite a few minutes. Brand had a device, like a frame with strings crisscrossing it in a checkerboard pattern. He kept peering through it at the flowers. He handed the frame to Nel, and she peered through it as well.


    As far as Seri could tell, there was no ulterior motive: they were just here to draw. She went back to weeding. Brand and Nel did eventually plant themselves down and start sketching. Seri glanced at them every now and then, but there was nothing to see. They weren¡¯t even sitting that close together. She heard their pencils moving and the occasional comment. Nothing more.


    Finally, Brand put his sketchpad down and stood up. Seri watched him out of the corner of his eye. He came up behind Nel and stared over her shoulder. For a few moments, he was quiet.


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    ¡°You said you had no experience at drawing,¡± he remarked.


    ¡°Not formally. I sketch sometimes, for fun.¡±


    ¡°This is very good,¡± Brand said. ¡°Seri, would you like to see? Come look.¡±


    Seri clapped the dirt from her hands and walked over.


    Nel had not drawn a single Cosmos, but all of them. She had filled the sketchpad with leaves and stems. And the flowers¡­. Seri could draw a flower, but it was flat, as if pressed in a book. But Nel¡¯s flowers had dimension. They looked as though they were alive.


    ¡°This is beautiful, Nel,¡± she said.


    Nel beamed. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m just learning. Brand¡¯s been teaching me.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to see my drawing?¡± Brand asked.


    He held it up, and Seri drew a breath. If Nel¡¯s drawing was good, Brand¡¯s was spectacular. They looked like the actual plants, minus the colors. They looked like the drawings in his book. Seri stared at it and at Nel¡¯s drawing and at the flowers. She swallowed.


    ¡°It is a very good drawing, Brand.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he cried, mockingly. ¡°Seri is paying me a compliment?¡±


    ¡°Should I lie? You have talent.¡±


    ¡°Two compliments? I must be suffering heat stroke.¡±


    Seri rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re terrible, you know that.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s the Seri I know.¡±


    ¡°I never said you were unskilled at art, I just think¡ª¡±


    ¡°That it¡¯s a waste of time?¡± Brand asked darkly.


    His tone had lost its playfulness. Seri wondered what she had said to offend him.


    ¡°I prefer your drawings to your illusions,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Do you want to learn how to draw?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have your talent.¡±


    ¡°Brand can teach you.¡±


    Seri crossed her arms.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to learn,¡± Brand said. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I prefer not to force her into things she doesn¡¯t enjoy. I prefer willing students.¡±


    And there it was. This heat, this feeling pressing into her. Seri had no idea what to say to this remark, so she said nothing. She went back to her weeding. But she still felt his eyes glued to her, even as she walked away.

 Chapter 38

    Brand and Nel were inseparable. They spent their days talking about art, and in the evenings, Brand consistently called her into his private room. Seri ought to be worried, but Brand was still on his best behavior. He was quick to make Nel comfortable and never raised his voice. Seri didn¡¯t think it was an act either. In that delicately balanced scale of desire, Brand¡¯s adoration of Nel seemed to outweigh everything else.


    Which had its advantages. Nel put Brand in a good mood, and when he was in a good mood, he was less likely to lash out at Seri.


    Today Nel and Brand had dragged out half the bowls from the kitchen and were mixing paints. They were laughing. Their plans to paint outside had been disrupted by a thunderstorm, but Brand, undeterred, had brought their art into the dining room: sketch paper and wooden planks, reference books and a couple dozen brushes and palette knives, of all shapes and sizes.


    ¡°Seri, Gretchen, you¡¯re welcome to join us,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°Yes. It will be fun,¡± Nel said.


    Seri sighed. She was tired. Shooting pains in her body had kept her up for half the night, and now there was constant itching on her back. Small, hard bumps were starting to form there, too. She¡¯d checked her bed for fleas but found none. She suspected the bumps were the beginnings of scales.


    Gretchen, too, seemed pale and tired. She¡¯d long since finished eating her lunch and was simply gazing listlessly at the crumbs on her plate. By contrast, Nel and Brand were bright and happy. They simply lit up. Seri wished she had that quality. That she wasn¡¯t so dour and miserable.


    Well, why should she be? If they were having fun, so could she.


    ¡°You don¡¯t mind?¡± Seri asked.


    Brand looked up sharply. ¡°You want to paint?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Seri pushed the plates to the side of the table.


    ¡°Wonderful!¡± Nel exclaimed. ¡°Now all we need is for Gretchen to join us. Gretchen, do you want to paint?¡±


    Gretchen made a half-hearted gesture.


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    ¡°We¡¯ll need more canvas! And easels!¡± Nel ran from the room.


    Brand was still staring at Seri, frowning.


    ¡°Did I interrupt your plans with Nel?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Brand said. ¡°Is that why you asked to join us?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Seri said. ¡°I just wanted to try something new.¡±


    Brand blinked, and his expression softened.


    ¡°Nel and I have been sketching our canvases for the past few days. Did you want to try drawing first, or just skip to painting?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­ I¡¯ll just paint.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± he said with a nod. ¡°I¡¯ll show you how to mix the pigments.¡±


    Mixing paints was fine. Seri could do that. But then Brand tried to explain color theory and composition, and Seri started to feel like an idiot. She had no idea what he was talking about, no matter how patiently he explained it.


    Seri did not want to mess up the nice canvases, so she painted a flower on an old wooden board. She felt she ought to know how to paint a flower, because she saw flowers every day, and yet when she tried, the paint blobbed and smeared.


    ¡°You¡¯d think I¡¯d know how to paint a lily,¡± she groaned.


    ¡°I can see the shape of it,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s awful, and you know it.¡±


    Brand, naturally, could paint flawless flowers, even without looking at the book for reference, but Nel was especially brilliant. She, out of everyone, got the colors to come out right. Even Brand was impressed.


    ¡°You really are good at this,¡± he said fondly.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. If you were given some study, you could be a painter.¡±


    Nel blushed.


    Gretchen, meanwhile, proceeded to stoically paint her board half black and half gray, making no attempt to make any sort of a picture.


    Seri, feeling like she had done nothing but made a piece of wood uglier than before, decided to make herself useful and start cleaning up the brushes.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to be useful.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be useful,¡± he said, with a slight edge in his voice. ¡°I want you to enjoy yourself.¡±


    Seri put down the brushes.


    ¡°Are you not enjoying yourself?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°I wish¡­ I wish I could make something beautiful.¡±


    ¡°You just need to practice.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t understand,¡± Seri said. ¡°I¡¯ve never been good at anything. My sewing is ugly, my cooking is barely edible, I can¡¯t arrange rooms. I¡¯m just not good at making things pretty.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had your cooking, and it¡¯s fine,¡± Brand said. ¡°Plus, you garden.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t make the flowers beautiful. They just come up that way.¡±


    ¡°Seri,¡± he said gently, ¡°you¡¯re too hard on yourself. What does it matter if you make beautiful things or not? You are beautiful. Isn¡¯t that enough?¡±


    Seri flushed. She did not want the compliment to affect her, but it did. It made her stomach knot, and a warm flutter erupt in her chest. She hated that feeling. As bad as it was when Brand was mean to her, it was worse when he was nice. It made it so easy to like him, so easy to hope¡­


    ¡­and so much harder when that hope came crashing down.

 Chapter 39

    ¡°Seri, can I speak to you this evening?¡± Brand asked, after dinner.


    ¡°Me?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°I miss our chess games.¡±


    She didn¡¯t. Or rather, she didn¡¯t miss the way he stared at her all the while they played. Still, she went with him and sat at the chess table and tried to concentrate on the game. She knew, of course, he had something he wanted to say to her. Her stomach was in knots the whole time. It did not help that it already felt like a furnace going off.


    ¡°What did you want to talk about?¡± she asked, mostly because she was not feeling well and wanted to get to the topic sooner rather than later.


    ¡°Nel likes me,¡± Brand began coyly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve gathered that.¡±


    ¡°In fact, she prefers me to the man she was to marry. Not simply because I¡¯m younger and richer and vastly more handsome. She thinks that I am a better man: kinder, gentler, more generous.¡±


    ¡°How sad for her that you are the gold standard.¡±


    ¡°And this leads me to wonder, Seri¡ªand I leave it to your fine moral judgement¡ªwould it be wrong for me to seduce her?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said tartly.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Do I really have to spell it out. You kidnapped her¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rescued her.¡±


    ¡°¡ªand threatened to turn her into a dragon. How is this even a question?¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s the coercion part that bothers you?¡± Brand asked. ¡°Because, I¡¯ll remind you, she was being coerced into marrying a man she despised. If that marriage had gone through¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not arguing that her being forced to wed a cruel, hateful man was right. I don¡¯t believe it is. Nel had reason to refuse him, and her decision should have been respected. But that situation does not justify your actions. The two have no correlation.¡±


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    Brand tapped his fingers on the chessboard.


    ¡°You intend to seduce her, then?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about it.¡±


    ¡°Nel is a good girl.¡±


    ¡°Of course, she is. That¡¯s why I like her.¡±


    ¡°Why hurt her then?¡±


    Brand looked at her darkly, and Seri knew she¡¯d said the wrong thing.


    ¡°I would never hurt her,¡± Brand stated in a low voice. ¡°That¡¯s what you think this is? You still think that I¡¯m some sort of barbarian, don¡¯t you? That I¡¯m going to pressure her and pressure her, until she relents, and the instant she says yes, that I¡¯m going to simply toss her over my shoulder and throw her on the bed¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I said.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it. I see it on your face, every single day, every moment you catch us alone together. If I want her and she wants me, and we choose to be together, why would it be wrong? Explain that to me.¡±


    ¡°If you keep her as a prisoner and threaten her with a curse¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are never going to let that go!¡±


    ¡°No, I am not! How many times do I have to tell you it¡¯s wrong, before you get it into your head!¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°I lift the curse and then I seduce her.¡±


    ¡°But why would she agree¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s say that she did,¡± Brand said, getting heated. ¡°Let¡¯s say that after three months, she¡¯s fallen in love with me, and I¡¯ve fallen in love with her. And I let her go and she still wants to be with me. Then is it wrong?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Because the next morning, you¡¯re going to leave her, and she has to go home and deal with the loss of her reputation and any other consequences of your night of passion, while you simply skip off to the next girl. And this is just on a practical level. I¡¯m not even arguing about on a moral level, sinning before the eyes of God¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are so puritanical, you know that? Everything has to be justified a thousand times over. Do you ever do anything just because you want to?¡±


    ¡°What do you want me to say, Brand? You asked my opinion, and I have given it to you. I think it is wrong. I have nothing else to say.¡±


    He was quiet.


    ¡°And if I married her?¡± Brand said, after a while.


    ¡°What?¡± she said.


    ¡°If I offered to marry her, would you still think it wrong?¡±


    She blinked. ¡°Do you want to marry Nel?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a hypothetical situation, Seri.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Seri said, ¡°it would not be wrong.¡±


    Brand peered at her. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes, really. I don¡¯t understand where you think the conflict lies. Unless¡ª¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Seri looked down. ¡°If I were to hypothetically agree to the morality of this hypothetical marriage, it would be on the assumption that you would not simply abandon your wife for the next pretty girl. Or keep kidnapping other women to¡­ to seduce. It would be on the assumption of a¡­ a normal marriage.¡±


    ¡°Normal?¡± he snorted.


    ¡°I suppose that would be impossible for you,¡± she said. ¡°But if you married her, would you try to love her?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try,¡± he said. ¡°If I married, it would be because I did love her¡ªthe girl I proposed to. I don¡¯t care about money or status or alliances. I come from a ruined castle. I live outside society. If I took a wife, she would need to accept¡­ that.¡±


    He looked away.


    ¡°Not, of course,¡± he quickly added, ¡°that I expect to be married.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± she asked.


    Brand looked at the chess board. ¡°It¡¯s your move.¡±

 Chapter 40

    Brand had decided to convert the library into an art studio. The four of them painted after lunch. Since Seri could not draw a flower to save her life, she painted lines and dots and squiggles on her board, all different colors and sizes. Over time, this turned into an elaborate series of curls that filled her canvas like an unruly maze.


    ¡°It looks like new vines growing over a fence,¡± Brand remarked, with a smile. ¡°Like you¡¯re gardening your art.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just doing what I can,¡± Seri said, wiping the paint off her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t paint like you do.¡±


    ¡°But I couldn¡¯t do this.¡± Brand gestured at her canvas. ¡°That¡¯s what makes art so interesting. It¡¯s not just the technical skills. It¡¯s how the painting acts as an expression of who you are.¡±


    Seri looked at her painting. Brand¡¯s words had merit, for her art was a bit of a mess. Thousands upon thousands of halting, imperfect marks, trying in vain to form some sort of pattern. A pattern that meant nothing. A pattern that hid her own small talent and mediocrity.


    ¡°You can have it, if you want it,¡± she told Brand.


    He looked startled. ¡°I can?¡±


    ¡°By all means. You can paint over it and¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Brand said loudly. ¡°No, this your work. I wouldn¡¯t do that. You gave it to me, and I¡¯m going to keep it.¡± After a slight pause, he added softly, ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Seri said.


    She left her painting and began to clean her brushes. Gretchen had already painted her entire canvas black, and was now staring at it, like it was a portal to another world. Seri collected Gretchen¡¯s brushes and cleaned them as well. She was really starting to worry about Gretchen. It had been two months, and she had hardly uttered a word.


    Nel was still drawing on her canvas. She hadn¡¯t even started to paint.


    Just your typical, run-of-the-mill day. Seri did her best to paint, but after an hour, the pains raging through her body made it hard to stand and to hold her brush properly¡ªor even see. Staring at one thing for too long gave her a headache, and spots broke out over her vision. It scared her, honestly. It was one thing, knowing the curse was affecting her bones and skin and appetite, but when it began to change her senses¡­.


    But even if Seri were well, an hour was probably her limit. She was not like Brand and Nel, who could paint for hours upon hours, almost without pause. If they weren¡¯t painting, they were sketching, or mixing colors, or consulting one another on ideas and techniques. Seri often sat and watched them and thought it strange how, at times, the minutes would tick by with hardly a mark upon the canvas; and then, suddenly the paint would come thickly, and the canvas blossom with color.


    Mostly, Brand¡¯s canvas. Nel worked slowly and deliberately, but Brand had fits of action, times when he¡¯d smear the paint with the palette knife in long, broad strokes. In those times, his body relaxed, and he moved in a loose, fluid way. He¡¯d smile and hum. But during detailed work, his body coiled tight, his face became expressionless, his eyes focused. His hands would go still, and when he made his strokes, each motion, each flick of the wrist was so slight, yet so precise, so controlled. His hands never trembled. It was sort of amazing. Seri never saw Brand so calm and steady as when he painted.


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    Nel was also transformed by the act. She stood straighter and held her head higher, and at every compliment Brand paid her, she bloomed. Brand was quite free with the compliments, naturally, and so, Nel grew lovelier by the day. Moreover, there was a sense of harmony between them. When they painted separately, they seemed as mirrors to each other. But when Brand came over to study Nel¡¯s painting and they both peered at some detail together, when their shoulders brushed and their heads hovered close together¡­ at those times, Seri could almost see them as husband and wife.


    Could that happen?


    Was Brand actually considering proposing?


    Seri finished rinsing the brushes and laid them out to dry in the sun. She checked on Gretchen, but Gretchen, as usual, had nothing much to say, so Seri left her alone to contemplate her painting. Normally, Seri would also sit and watch Brand and Nel together, but winter was coming, and Seri needed to prepare for it. So she pulled her aching bones up the long set of stairs, to retrieve her sewing. But her mind was still on Brand and Nel.


    Brand and Nel¡­


    That conversation had been odd. Brand asking if it would be wrong to propose to Nel¡­ Seri was still half-convinced that Brand brought up the idea of marriage as a way of toying with her, of getting under her skin. But it had been the second time he brought it up, and when he spoke about marrying for love, his tone had changed. He was serious. If Brand married the girl he loved, he¡¯d have no reason to keep kidnapping other girls. He¡¯d admitted as much.


    Seri grabbed her quilting scraps and thread and needle and made her way back down the stairs. Brand and Nel¡­. Ordinarily, she¡¯d be against Nel marrying Brand on principle. But Nel was already being forced into a terrible marriage. Brand might be an improvement. And he was just so sweet around her. So incredibly patient and kind. Despite his taunting remarks about seducing Nel, Brand hadn¡¯t (so far as Seri knew) tried to kiss her or touch her or force her into bed with him. He¡¯d been quite courteous to Nel¡­ far more than he¡¯d been to Seri.


    A sharp sting pricked her chest, which gave way to a lingering heaviness. Seri sighed. It wasn¡¯t fair. She tried so hard, but no matter what she did, Brand wouldn¡¯t change. Not for her. But all Nel had to do was smile and say a few kind words, and suddenly Brand was a new man.


    It doesn¡¯t matter, she told herself. The point is not who gets him to change. The point is that he changes and puts an end to his evil ways. Once Brand was married, he¡¯d be happy, Nel would be happy, and Seri could go home.


    She opened the door to the library.


    Brand was standing at Nel¡¯s canvas, sketching with a bit of charcoal and explaining about dimension. He glanced at Seri, finished his explanation, and handed the charcoal to Nel. Seri sat down and tried to arrange her sewing. Brand walked over to her, rubbing the soot off his hand with a rag.


    ¡°And here I thought you¡¯d finally tired of playing chaperone.¡± He leaned against the table, and added in a low voice, ¡°You know, if I were going to seduce Nel, it would be in my private room, late at night¡ªnot in our art studio, in the middle of the day.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I just like watching the two of you paint,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Really? And how are you to watch, when you¡¯re busy with¡­¡± Brand glanced at her scraps of cloth and frowned. ¡°Sewing? Why are you sewing? You hate sewing.¡±


    ¡°It needs to be done.¡±


    ¡°Why does it need to be done?¡± he said, rather loudly.


    At this, Nel turned. Brand gave a small shake of his head, and Nel went back to her drawing. Brand took a step closer to Seri.


    ¡°Seri,¡± he said softly.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting cold,¡± Seri said. ¡°Our rooms don¡¯t have fireplaces. Gretchen gets sick a lot, so I thought I¡¯d make her a quilt and some warm clothes.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t you tell me you were cold.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. I have plenty of fabric.¡±


    ¡°I will buy you what you need.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly capable of¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re perfectly capable of! That¡¯s not the point. I will provide what you need, but I need to know what that is.¡±


    Seri pulled her arms into her chest.


    ¡°Seri,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°We could use more blankets,¡± she finally admitted. ¡°Bedwarmers, too. Warm underwear, jackets. Perhaps some candles, to read or sew by. And I¡ª¡±


    Her throat tightened. She looked down.


    ¡°What do you need?¡± Brand asked gently.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ I¡¯ve been gaining weight. My dresses no longer fit properly.¡±


    Seri waited for him to say something. To rub it. Not that it mattered what her body looked like. She just hated to let him know how much the curse was affecting her.


    Brand drew in a long breath.


    ¡°Write me a list,¡± he said, at last. ¡°Put down your new measurements. I¡¯ll go shopping first thing tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 41

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind turning into a dragon,¡± Gretchen said.


    Seri nearly dropped her mutton leg. ¡°What?¡±


    They had been eating lunch, just the three of them. Brand was out shopping for blankets and warm clothes, as promised. Nel had been prattling excitedly about a lizard she¡¯d just seen on a rock, and Seri was nodding and scraping the gravy off the mutton, when out of nowhere, Gretchen opened her mouth and uttered what had to be a mistake.


    ¡°It might be nice,¡± Gretchen said. ¡°To fly above the clouds, to sit on a hill and eat sheep all day.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, it¡¯s great fun,¡± Seri snapped. ¡°To feel your bones twist and your insides burn and watch your hair fall out.¡±


    Nel stared at Seri, her brow crinkled with concern, but Gretchen continued, unperturbed,


    ¡°I could withstand the pain. It wouldn¡¯t last forever, and in the end, I¡¯d be big and strong. I could go where I wanted. I could set fire to my enemies.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know your enemies,¡± Seri said quietly. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know yourself. You¡¯d lose your memories and become a mindless beast.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Brand would control you. You¡¯d be his slave!¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind,¡± Gretchen said again.


    Seri didn¡¯t know what to say. Gretchen¡¯s face had relaxed into a placid, almost peaceful repose¡ªbut her eyes were glassy, staring vaguely into nothing. She¡¯d been like this from the start. Seri kept hoping that with a little bit of time and patience, she¡¯d get better. But she hadn¡¯t. If anything, she seemed to grow worse.


    Seri glanced at Nel.


    ¡°What sort of things do you like, Gretchen?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Gretchen replied.


    ¡°You like to paint, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What else?¡± And when Gretchen didn¡¯t reply, Nel said, ¡°I have a sister who loves dancing more than anything. Most of the day, she¡¯ll wander around as though in a daze, but every time we have a dance, she¡¯ll whirl and jump and beam. You¡¯ll never see a creature happier than her. There must be something like that for you. Something you love more than anything else in the world.¡±


    After a pause, Gretchen said, ¡°I like music.¡±


    ¡°What kind?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Any kind,¡± Gretchen said. Another pause. ¡°Brand had a lute. That¡¯s why I went with him. I thought he¡¯d play it, but he didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he knows how,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°He does,¡± Nel said. ¡°He¡¯s not very good, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe we can persuade him to hire a minstrel,¡± Seri said. ¡°Would you like that, Gretchen?¡±


    She shrugged.


    ¡°Once Brand gets back from the market, I¡¯ll ask him,¡± Seri said.


    Seri noticed, out the corner of her eyes, Nel motioning her. She excused herself and walked with Nel into the hall, out of earshot. Nel was fiddling with her sleeves.


    ¡°Thank you, for comforting Gretchen,¡± Seri said.


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    Nel nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve felt that way, myself,¡± she said. ¡°Like my soul had already left me, and I was hovering above it, watching my body move and speak.¡±


    Seri felt a chill go through her. ¡°You¡¯ve felt that way?¡±


    ¡°Not here,¡± Nel said hastily. ¡°Here, I¡¯ve felt¡­ I¡¯m happy. But what I wanted to ask you was¡­ do you think¡­ do you think Brand will actually do it? Hire a minstrel?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said, a little surprised by the question. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Well, a minstrel is expensive. And ¡­ and Brand doesn¡¯t¡­. He doesn¡¯t seem to like Gretchen much.¡±


    ¡°He likes her fine,¡± Seri said. ¡°And whether he likes her or not, he brought her here. He¡¯s responsible for her, and he¡¯ll take care of her.¡±


    Nel nodded. ¡°I suppose you know him better than me.¡±


    An odd feeling welled up in Seri¡­ like doubt or dread. Nel should know what Brand was like by now. She should know he wasn¡¯t negligent. After all, Nel was the one who saw the best in Brand, who brought it out of him.


    Seri shook herself. ¡°You love painting more than anything else?¡± she asked Nel.


    ¡°Except for my family, yes.¡±


    ¡°So, when you were in a bad place, painting made you feel¡­ whole again?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Nel said. ¡°My sisters brought me back. But I did start drawing, and it helped.¡±


    ¡°Does Gretchen have any sisters¡± Seri wondered out loud. ¡°Does she have anyone at home who could help her?¡±


    ¡°Even if she does, Brand won¡¯t let her go home,¡± Nel said.


    Seri tilted her head. ¡°Brand always lets the girls go home.¡±


    ¡°After they give him something,¡± Nel said. ¡°But if Gretchen wants to be a dragon¡ª¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t come to that,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°It might,¡± Nel said softly.


    ¡°He won¡¯t let Gretchen become a dragon,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°He¡¯s letting you become one,¡± Nel pointed out. ¡°And he likes you, Seri. But rules are rules, and his rules are the most important thing to him. He won¡¯t break them for you, or Gretchen, or¡­ or anybody.¡±


    ¡°Of course, he will,¡± Seri said. ¡°He¡¯s broken them before. The rules are nothing more than his way of exerting power and control. Why does he need to exert power over Gretchen? She¡¯s not resisting him. He certainly doesn¡¯t want anything from her.¡±


    ¡°So you think Brand will break Gretchen¡¯s curse?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± Seri said. Then, after a beat, she added, ¡°But he might be more willing, if you were to ask him.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± Nel said with some surprise.


    Seri nodded. ¡°Brand won¡¯t listen to me. I¡¯ve tried, but every time, he digs in his heels and does the opposite of what I say.¡±


    ¡°Seri, if you can¡¯t get him to listen, what chance do you think I have?¡± Nel said, incredulously.


    ¡°You have a different approach,¡± Seri said. ¡°And he responds to you far more gently than he does to me. He¡¯s never yelled at you or threatened you or even raised his voice.¡±


    ¡°No, but¡­.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never defied him. He¡¯s not defensive around you. So if it¡¯s you saying it, maybe it will get through to him.¡±


    ¡°What will get through to him?¡± Nel asked quizzically.


    ¡°That he doesn¡¯t have to do this anymore,¡± Seri said. ¡°That deep down, he doesn¡¯t even want it. What Brand wants is to get married and have a family and lead a¡­ well, not exactly a normal life, but a better life. But he can¡¯t have that if he keeps kidnapping girls and cursing them and robbing castles. He¡¯s destroying his own future and hurting ours as well. He needs to stop.¡±


    Nel paled. ¡°You¡­ you want me to tell him that?¡±


    ¡°Not in those exact words,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say those things to him. He¡¯ll be furious.¡±


    ¡°No, he won¡¯t. It all depends on how you say it.¡±


    ¡°Seri, I can¡¯t persuade him. I¡¯m not like you. I¡¯m timid and stupid¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not stupid, Nel,¡± Seri said, gripping her by the arms. ¡°You are smart. You were the one that decided the best strategy was to be nice to him¡ªand it worked. You got through to Gretchen just now. You talk to Brand all the time, and it¡¯s like the two of you are in your own world. You can do this, Nel. You¡¯re the only one who can get through to him. Please, just try.¡±


    Nel took a few shaky breaths.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to him.¡±


    Seri let go of Nel¡¯s shoulders. She felt a swell of elation¡­ followed by a nauseous churning in her stomach. Seri took a step back and shut her eyes.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°Mm-hm,¡± Seri managed to say.


    It might just be part of turning into a dragon. Burning in her stomach was common. So was nausea. But this feeling¡­ it didn¡¯t seem physical, not exactly. Rather, it felt like some small part of her was crying out in alarm.


    ¡°You¡¯re in pain, too,¡± Nel said. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. All this time, you¡¯ve protected me, and I¡¯ve never done anything to help you. You must be so scared.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not why¡­.¡± Seri said. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­. You don¡¯t have to worry about me, Nel. It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s Gretchen¡­.  I¡¯m just worried about her, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Her stomach knotted again, and now Seri was sure that it had nothing to do with turning into a dragon. It felt like¡­ like she was lying.


    Maybe she was. Maybe¡­ maybe this whole thing¡­ it wasn¡¯t just about Gretchen. Seri was also in pain. The curse was getting to her. She wanted it to end.


    Was that so awful? Was it wrong?


    It was all connected: her, Gretchen, Nel, Brand¡ªthey could all be miserable, or they could all be happy. Why not be happy? It wasn¡¯t like Seri was asking Nel to sleep with Brad or do something dangerous. It was just a conversation, one simple conversation.


    What was wrong with that?

 Chapter 42

    Whenever Brand bought gifts, he made a big show of laying them down on the table and presenting them like a merchant at his stall, proudly describing the magnificent treasures he¡¯d procured.


    ¡°For you, Gretchen,¡± Brand said, ¡°I have brought incenses from the far east, whose powerful scent can ward off the miasma of sickness. I also have some charming figurines to decorate your room.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Gretchen said, rather dully.


    ¡°For you, Nel, I have an array of new brushes, paint pigments, and canvases. These are all yours and you may take them home, once you are ready to leave.¡±


    ¡°Can I?¡± she said. ¡°Oh, Brand, thank you.¡±


    She kissed him innocently on the cheek.


    ¡°Seri,¡± he said, looking at her. ¡°I know you requested dresses. I have ordered them.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°May I speak to you in private, for a moment?¡±


    He looked surprised. ¡°Of course.¡±


    They walked to Brand¡¯s private room.


    ¡°Actually,¡± he said, ¡°I did have another gift for you.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Seri said. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it on the table.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he replied, pulling a cloth from his pocket. ¡°I didn¡¯t want the other girls to see.¡±


    ¡°A handkerchief?¡± she asked, but she noticed the bulge of something hidden underneath. ¡°More seeds?¡± she guessed.


    Brand rolled his eyes.  ¡°I bought incense for Gretchen and paints for Nel.¡± He unfolded the cloth. ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d get you something as common as seeds?¡±


    ¡°You also promised me the dress¡ª¡± Seri began but stopped.


    Nestled in the cloth was a gold chain and ruby pendant. Seri blinked. Surprise flashed through her, swiftly followed by a confusion of other emotions: some that twisted and knotted in her stomach, some that caused her heart to flutter.


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    ¡°What is this for?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I wanted to get it for you,¡± he said. ¡°To thank you for, well, looking after everything. For taking care of the girls.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t do it for me. But I still appreciate it.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t what Seri was going to say. She was going to say she didn¡¯t do anything but her rightful duty¡ªand even then, she hadn¡¯t done a great job. She shouldn¡¯t be rewarded for that, and certainly not so lavishly.


    And yet no matter how hard she tried to keep her thoughts in check, her heart twisted and even broke a bit. For him to see her actions and value them so highly¡­


    ¡°Try it on,¡± Brand said.


    Seri stared at the necklace. It was a simple chain, but beautifully wrought. The pendant had a ruby in the center. Gold strands twisted around to hold it, like vines or perhaps like a bird¡¯s nest. And the jewel was like a drop of blood. There was meaning in a gift such as this, far more meaning than simple appreciation. A part of her knew, but she couldn¡¯t admit it. She felt warm, flushed, hot. She noticed Brand was staring at her intensely. She did not move.


    After a while, Brand sighed and laid the necklace on the chess table.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like it,¡± he said at last.


    ¡°I can¡¯t accept it.¡±


    ¡°Seri¡ª¡±


    ¡°I must ask you a favor,¡± she blurted.


    He tilted his head. ¡°All right,¡± he said, in a low, concerned voice. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s Gretchen.¡±


    ¡°Is she sick again?¡±


    ¡°No, not exactly. Not physically sick, but¡­ sick in spirit, I think. She doesn¡¯t talk much or seem to care about anything. If you ask her to do something, she¡¯ll do it, but there is no emotion in the action.¡±


    ¡°I had noticed,¡± Brand said. ¡°She was like that when I¡­ I first brought her here.¡±


    ¡°Today she said she wanted to turn into a dragon.¡±


    ¡°She wanted to¡­?¡±


    ¡°She seems to think she¡¯d be better off,¡± Seri said. ¡°It¡¯s like she has nothing to live for. We tried to cheer her up. Nel asked what she liked, and Gretchen said, she enjoyed music. And I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°You want me to hire a minstrel?¡± Brand asked.


    Seri nodded. ¡°You can sell my chain¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I bought it for you.¡±


    ¡°Gretchen needs music.¡±


    ¡°And I will get it for her,¡± Brand said. ¡°Does Gretchen have an instrument she prefers?¡±


    ¡°She seems to like your lute.¡±


    Brand nodded. ¡°I know where I can find someone. If I¡¯m not back by 7:00, feel free to start dinner without me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going now?¡±


    ¡°Is there a better time?¡±


    She felt touched. ¡°Thank you for doing this.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°If you really want to thank me,¡± he said coyly, ¡°you can try on the necklace I bought you.¡±


    Seri flinched.


    She didn¡¯t mean to. It was an automatic gesture. But her first thought was of him putting it around her neck, like a collar on a dog, of him petting her and stroking her, as though he now owned her.


    Brand¡¯s face took on a dark hue.


    ¡°Or don¡¯t,¡± he added bitterly. ¡°Do whatever you like, Seri. It¡¯s your necklace. But do me a favor and take it out of my room. If you won¡¯t wear it, at least get it out of my sight.¡±

 Chapter 43

    Seri sat in her room, staring at the necklace, trying to shift through the kaleidoscope of emotions it had brought out in her.


    It was not her first piece of jewelry. When she was ten, her father had given her a pretty jeweled pin. That was the only piece he bought her. He had meant to buy her other jewels to add to her dowry, but he¡¯d never gotten around to it. Then, after her mother died, her father had given Seri her mother¡¯s rings and necklace, saying that would have to do. Seri had hidden them away in her dresser. She had never worn them.


    Seri traced a finger along the pendant.


    Why had Brand given her this necklace? And why give it to her and not Nel? Nel was his favorite. Nel was lovely and happy, and she would have accepted the gift whole-heartedly. In her head, Seri could see the scene play out: Brand presenting the jewel (a sapphire pendant, in this case), Nel¡¯s eyes lighting up, Brand putting it around her neck and bringing her up to a mirror for her to see, Nel kissing his cheek, as she had done before. That was how it should have been. It would have been perfect and innocent and sweet.


    There was a knock at the door. Seri quickly shoved the necklace under a handkerchief.


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    It was Nel. She was wearing her blue silk gown, the one she wore for dinners. She carried in her hand a little basket of flowers, mostly white roses and sprigs of baby¡¯s breath.


    ¡°I was thinking about¡­ about my talk with Brand. About what I should say. Can I practice it in front of you and get your advice?¡±


    A wave of despair and guilt washed over Seri. It wasn¡¯t going to work. Seri already knew it wasn¡¯t going to work. Maybe if Brand had given the necklace to Nel¡­ but he hadn¡¯t.


    Seri didn¡¯t realize how much hope she¡¯d put into Nel changing Brand¡¯s mind, until it was ripped from her. Her whole body felt heavy, her chest pinched. A dull headache throbbed behind her eyes.


    ¡°Nel, you don¡¯t need to do this,¡± Seri said tiredly.


    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± Nel said. ¡°Because he needs to know that this is wrong, and it¡¯s not just you who thinks it.¡±


    She seemed so earnest, that Seri almost believed it.


    ¡°What are you going to say?¡± she asked softly.


    Nel took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m going to tell him that I really like him, and I want him to have the best life he can and get married one day and have a family. And I don¡¯t think that kidnapping girls and turning them into dragons is the best way of doing it. It is wrong, and it will make him enemies and it will be hard for the girls to like him. It would be better for him, if he stopped.¡± Nel paused. ¡°Does that sound stupid?¡±


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    ¡°No,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll be mad?¡±


    Seri sighed. ¡°Honestly, I can¡¯t see how anyone could ever be mad at someone as good and sweet as you.¡±


    And maybe that would be enough. Through sheer goodness, Nel could convince Brand to change his ways. It was a very faint hope, but it was all she had.


    ¡°So it¡¯s good?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said.


    Nel sighed in nervous relief. ¡°All right. I can do this. Seri, can you help me with my hair? I want to put these flowers in them, so I¡¯ll look extra nice. He¡¯ll like that.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Seri said.


    Nel sat down in front of the dresser. She looked at the handkerchief.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± she asked, peering under it.


    Seri¡¯s stomach tightened. ¡°Brand¡¯s gift to me.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Nel gasped, pulling the necklace from beneath the cloth. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡±


    ¡°He shouldn¡¯t have gotten it for me,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°But you deserve it. And it will look lovely with your red¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to wear it,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Nel asked.


    Seri twisted her fingers.


    ¡°Would you wear it?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Oh, no. He gave it to you.¡±


    ¡°But if he hadn¡¯t. If this were your gift.¡±


    ¡°Why, yes, of course I would.¡± Nel sounded confused.


    ¡°Why?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°To make him happy,¡± Nel said.


    It seemed so simple when Nel said it. Just wear the gift he bought her and make him happy. What was wrong with that? Seri didn¡¯t hate Brand, didn¡¯t want him to be miserable. And yet wearing the necklace seemed like putting a snake around her neck. She felt resistant to the whole idea on some deep, instinctive level.


    Seri picked up Nel¡¯s basket of white flowers.


    ¡°You want me to put these in your hair?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Yes, please,¡± Nel said.


    Seri wove the roses and baby¡¯s breath into Nel¡¯s hair as best she could. She was better at growing the flowers than decorating with them, and her best efforts came out messy, but Nel said she loved it. She looked like a fairy, so airy and lovely and innocent. She skipped out of the room, singing lightly to herself.


    Seri dressed for dinner. She put on the red velvet dress that was starting to burst at the seams. Carefully hiding the scales that broke out over her body. Carefully brushing her hair and trying to ignore the large chunks that fell out. She was glad the mirror was covered. She felt hideous.


    The necklace sat on the dresser table.


    Anger flared in her. Why did he give it to her? It was like he was mocking her. Giving her beautiful things, as he made her ugly. Asking her to put a chain around her neck, as though she could not already feel the noose tightening. She wanted to throw the pendant at the wall and break it. She hated it! She hated him!


    She grabbed it and squeezed it in her fist, with half a mind to hurl it into the mirror.


    She stopped.


    The coils of gold reminded her of her squiggle paintings she¡¯d done, all the hours of work she¡¯d put in to decorate one plain board. She wondered what pain and skill it had taken to create this piece. Did she want to destroy the craftsman¡¯s work, because she was mad at Brand?


    No. She didn¡¯t want to destroy anything.


    Seri put it down and took a deep breath.


    Brand had not bought this to taunt her. She knew that much. He had wanted her to like it and was upset when she did not. And maybe that was all there was to it. Maybe she was reading in this gift all these meanings that weren¡¯t there. Maybe if she wore the necklace, he¡¯d be happy, and if he were happy¡­


    ¡­he might listen to Nel.


    Seri put on the necklace. It didn¡¯t feel like a snake around her neck, but it didn¡¯t feel like nothing, either. She went to the mirror and lifted the edge of the sheet covering it, so that she could see herself, briefly, in the reflection. She did not look as bad as she felt. She was heavier, and there were dark circles under her eyes. But she still looked human.


    Still human.


    Seri dropped the sheet and went downstairs.

 Chapter 44

    Brand was not late to dinner. Quite the contrary, he arrived early. Seri had gone down to the sitting room, where she saw him, sprawled over an armchair, not dressed for dinner, but waiting for her.


    ¡°Good, you¡¯re here. I was hoping to talk to you. I¡­¡± He paused as his eyes caught her necklace. ¡°You¡¯re wearing the pendant?¡±


    Seri nodded.


    ¡°I thought you hated it.¡±


    ¡°No. I like it. It¡¯s lovely.¡±


    ¡°But you said¡ª¡±


    ¡°The necklace is beautiful,¡± Seri said. ¡°Thank you, Brand. I do like jewelry.¡±


    He stared at her.


    ¡°Right¡­ Um, okay¡­¡± He blinked and seemed to refocus. ¡°The minstrel will play for us after dinner in my private room.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I would like all of us to be there,¡± he said. ¡°But I must take precautions. You must swear to me that you will not reveal to the minstrel that you are prisoners nor tell him any other information which could lead to my capture. I will use magic to enforce it. If you will not do not agree to my terms, you must remain in your room.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°So will you join us?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°I would like to, yes.¡±


    Brand blinked. ¡°You¡¯ll swear to keep silent?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He stared. ¡°Are you feeling all right, Seri?¡±


    She had not been feeling all right for a long time.


    ¡°I would like to listen to music,¡± Seri replied. ¡°And I¡¯ve learned to choose my battles with you, Brand.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he replied, still staring. ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s good.¡±


    She¡¯d have thought he¡¯d be more pleased. He was breaking her. That was what he wanted, wasn¡¯t it? And yet he frowned and looked away, as if troubled.


    After dinner, they all settled in the library/ art studio. Brand brought out pillows and blankets to make it more cozy and inviting. After swearing them all to silence, Brand let the minstrel into the room. He was an older fellow, with silver hair. He reminded Seri of her grandfather a bit, and she smiled.


    ¡°Good evening, ladies,¡± he said, in a deep, calm voice. ¡°My name is Jakob. I am a simple minstrel from the town of Geesten. It is my pleasure to be playing for you this evening.¡±


    Gretchen sat in a chair, wrapped in blankets, staring with dark eyes. Jakob tuned his lute and began to hum. Seri took a seat on the sofa, and Nel sat beside her. Brand leaned against the wall, near one of his easels.


    ¡°Have you any song requests?¡± Minstrel Jakob asked.


    ¡°Please play whatever you like,¡± Brand said.


    The minstrel began to play. The song was one Seri had heard long before and forgotten. It was beautiful. It strummed deep into her soul, the part of her where she was still human, still Seri. The music continued. A tragic song followed, then a silly song, a song of spring. The songs reminded Seri of all the people in the world who suffered and laughed and continued to live, no matter what the circumstances.


    Jakob paused and asked for a drink. Brand brought him wine.


    Gretchen finally stirred. ¡°How did you learn so many songs?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I learn them one at a time,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m a slow learner, but once I learn a song, I never forget it.¡±


    ¡°Would you like to learn to play?¡± Brand asked Gretchen. ¡°You can use my lute.¡±


    Gretchen nodded.


    Brand fetched the lute from his room. Gretchen sat down beside the minstrel. He taught her how to tune the instrument, how to hold her fingers to the string. Seri watched Gretchen closely. She had not smiled once while the minstrel played, and she was not smiling now. But her eyes did not seem as glassy as before. There was a spark of¡­ something. Of life.


    Seri let out a breath of relief. She looked to Brand to tell him, to thank him for bringing the minstrel¡­ but Brand was gone.


    Nel was gone, too.


    She must have asked to talk to him.


    Seri¡¯s mouth went dry, and her palms began to sweat. She tried to look back to Gretchen and the minstrel, but her thoughts could no longer settle on them. Where had Brand taken Nel? To his private room, most likely. Some place they wouldn¡¯t be interrupted. Seri twisted her fingers. What would he say? He wouldn¡¯t be mad, would he? Not at Nel, surely.


    Footsteps sounded in the hall. Seri¡¯s stomach clenched.


    Brand and Nel re-entered the room. They had not been gone long¡ªthe minstrel had not even finished teaching Gretchen one short song. Brand¡¯s walk was casual and his face quite calm, but he was radiating heat. Whatever hope Seri had for the conversation going well evaporated. Nel¡¯s shoulders were slumped. She threw Seri a helpless, apologetic glance.


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    ¡°Seri,¡± Brand said quietly, ¡°can I speak to you for a moment?¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Now,¡± he said. ¡°I realize it¡¯s unusual, but if you¡¯d meet me in my private room, I¡¯d most appreciate it.¡±


    Seri stood up and followed Brand own the hall.


    She sat down at her usual chair, putting her hands on the chess table, bracing herself for his fury. Brand made a show of getting water. He didn¡¯t bother with the wine.


    ¡°Nel and I had a conversation just now,¡± Brand said, handing her a cup.


    ¡°Yes, I know,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I assume you also know what about, since you put her up to it.¡±


    Seri took a sip of water. ¡°Gretchen was talking about becoming a dragon. Nel was upset by the prospect. I suggested she talk to you.¡±


    ¡°And then you told her what to say.¡±


    ¡°I did not.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so she just came up with the idea of me settling down with some nice girl on her own?¡±


    Seri sighed. ¡°I told her you wanted to get married.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you do.¡±


    ¡°I do¡ª¡± Brand began and came to an abrupt halt. A look of horror crossed his face.


    ¡°You do,¡± Seri said firmly. ¡°You want a wife. Children. A family. You told me as much.¡±


    ¡°Yes, fine,¡± he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. ¡°One day, I might want a family. But why bring Nel into it? It¡¯s not like you, Seri, to make someone else fight your battles.¡±


    ¡°My battles?¡±


    ¡°Nel is not the one in danger of turning into a dragon. At the end of three months, she¡¯ll give me one of her paintings, and I¡¯ll send her home. You are the one who stubbornly refuses to negotiate,¡± he added, with a tinge of frustration in his voice. ¡°If your new strategy is to manipulate me¡ª¡±


    ¡°Manipulate you?¡± Seri said, standing up. ¡°You make me go through all the trouble of figuring out what you most want, and when I finally do¡ª¡±


    ¡°You send Nel to tell me,¡± Brand finished. ¡°Nel, with her wide blue eyes and flowers in her hair. Nel, innocently pleading with me to repent my evil ways and marry some nice girl. Tell me, Seri, did you expect me to propose to her on the spot or were you hoping I¡¯d wait until after I sent you home?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect¡ª¡± Seri began.


    ¡°Yes, you did. I remember that little conversation we had. How interested you were in my hypothetical proposal.¡± Brand clenched his jaw. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you would try to use that against me. I am surprised that someone as self-righteous as you would use Nel to save your own skin.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡± Seri began angrily but found her tongue glued to her mouth.


    She was lying? Heat spread over her. Seri swallowed and sank into the chair.


    ¡°I was using her?¡±


    Brand tilted his head. ¡°You didn¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Seri shook her head. ¡°I mean, yes, I did think that, if you and Nel were together, you might change me back. But¡­¡± Seri¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t mean to use anyone.¡±


    And suddenly the tears were sliding down her cheeks, suddenly her chest was hitching into sobs. Seri covered her face with her hands and cried. How could she use Nel? Nel was her friend. Nel trusted her. And Seri had thrown her to Brand like a virgin sacrifice. She was a horrible person.


    Brand¡¯s footsteps thudded softly on the floor, approaching her. Even if she had not heard them, she would have known he were close. Always that heat, pressing into her. Seri huddled into herself, anticipating his hand on her back. It didn¡¯t come. Brand hovered near her, but he did not touch her.


    ¡°Seri,¡± Brand said, ¡°I don¡¯t understand you. Why do you make this so hard on yourself? I¡¯m not forcing you to steal. I¡¯m not asking you to sleep with me. Just offer me something, and I¡¯ll let you go.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°But you can ask Nel to ruin her life?¡±


    ¡°I thought she¡¯d be happy with you.¡±


    ¡°You did?¡±


    Seri put down her hands. ¡°You¡¯re nice to her. She brings out the best in you. If she married you, she wouldn¡¯t be forced to wed that horrible man. You¡¯d both be free to paint. I really did think it would work out.¡±


    She angrily rubbed the tears from her eyes. It was so stupid to believe anything so simple could ever work out for her. That Brand would just marry Nel, and all her problems would be solved. But she did believe it. Even now, a part of her refused to give up. It hurt to hope, yet she couldn¡¯t stop.


    Brand sat down the chair beside her. She saw him move out of the corner of her eye. She heard him breathe and felt the warmth of his body nearby. But Seri couldn¡¯t look at him. She couldn¡¯t face him. She was too humiliated.


    ¡°You thought we¡¯d be happy?¡± Brand said.


    Seri nodded.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m actually flattered you would match me with Nel. She is a pure soul, and better than I deserve. But, Seri, I don¡¯t love her.¡±


    ¡°You like her, though.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I adore her. Nel is sweet and kind and talented. But I don¡¯t feel¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t feel¡­ that way. I wish I did.¡±


    ¡°Maybe with time¡ª¡± Seri began.


    ¡°No,¡± Brand cut her off.


    Though soft, there was a finality to his voice. Seri didn¡¯t try to contradict him. She didn¡¯t want to think about why he was so sure. But she felt the pendant hang around her neck like a lead weight. She felt the intensity of his gaze upon her face.


    Seri swallowed. ¡°Why is this feeling so important to you?¡±


    Brand looked to the side. ¡°Have you ever been in love, Seri?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter?¡±


    ¡°Love is an action.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s also an emotion.¡±


    ¡°But the action is more important.¡±


    ¡°I beg to differ,¡± he said.


    ¡°If you practice the action, the feeling will follow.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m out of practice?¡± Brand asked, in a sarcastic tone. ¡°Perhaps, you are right. If I were to practice on Nel, if I were to bring her to my room and kiss her and hold her tight¡ª¡±


    ¡°That is not what I meant,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°¡ªthen maybe I would fall so desperately in love with her that I would give up on my revenge, propose to her, and become a proper husband, just like you want.¡±


    ¡°You always twist my words,¡± Seri said angrily. ¡°What I had meant was¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know what you meant,¡± Brand said. ¡°You were speaking of charity. Of giving food to those who are hungry, of comforting those who are afraid and blessing those who curse you. That sort of thing. It is very noble sentiment, Seri, but it is not the kind of love I desire. Certainly not from my wife.¡±


    ¡°Well, then what do you desire? What exactly are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°So many things,¡± he said. ¡°But first and foremost, she¡¯d have to love me back.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Seri said softly.


    ¡°And not,¡± he added, ¡°out of some misguided sense of charity.¡±


    ¡°Nel could love you, given time,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Brand said, looking away. ¡°But even if she did fall in love with me, she wouldn¡¯t marry me. She told me. She intends to go home. Once there, she¡¯ll wed the man she was promised to.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Seri started. ¡°No, that can¡¯t be right. Why would she do that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Brand said. ¡°But it¡¯s her decision.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the wrong decision!¡± Seri said. ¡°Marry someone she hates, some who calls her stupid, who might¡ª No! No, I can¡¯t believe she¡¯d do that!¡±


    Brand peered at her. ¡°You really care about her, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I do,¡± Seri said. ¡°I care about Nel and Gretchen¡­ and you. I just want everyone to be¡­ to be¡­¡± She pulled her arms in. ¡°Is it na?ve of me to hope that this can end well? That no one need suffer or die or find themselves trapped in a miserable, abusive marriage?¡±


    Brand was quiet.


    ¡°I think the minstrel is still here,¡± he said, after a minute. ¡°We can listen to him sing a few more songs. I know it won¡¯t solve anything, but it might make you feel better.¡±


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Seri said with a sigh.


    She stood up. Brand offered her his arm.


    She took it.


    It wasn¡¯t until saw the look of surprise on his face that she realized how radical a gesture it had been. Seri never touched him. She deliberately avoided him, as though he were diseased. As though she were punishing him. But the mere touch of his arm had not stung her, nor felt like giving into an impure impulse.


    It felt normal.


    Nice, even.

 Chapter 45

    ¡°Was he mad?¡± Nel asked, at breakfast, the next morning.


    Seri sighed. She¡¯d had a long night of laying in bed and feeling her bones stretch. She tiredly stabbed at the sausages, moving them from the platter to her plate.


    ¡°He told me he wasn¡¯t mad,¡± Nel said.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t,¡± Seri said. ¡°Mostly.¡±


    ¡°Mostly?¡± Nel said miserably. ¡°You were crying afterwards. I saw your face.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t crying because of that.¡±


    ¡°Then why?¡±


    Seri put her plate down. ¡°Let¡¯s have a walk in the garden.¡±


    The sun had barely risen. The shadows were deep, and a mist had crept over the earth, giving the plants a haunted look. Nel shivered. Seri pulled her cape around her arms. Her skin was cold, but her insides burned, as usual.


    ¡°I said it wrong, didn¡¯t I?¡± Nel said. ¡°I¡¯m so stupid. I can¡¯t do anything right.¡±


    ¡°No, Nel,¡± Seri said. ¡°It was my fault. I owe you an apology.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± Nel said.


    Seri struggled with how to phrase it.


    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve had this notion that¡­ well, Brand likes you. And I know that deep down, he wants a wife and family. I thought if he¡­ if he fell in love with you¡­ if he asked you to marry him, then maybe¡­ maybe he¡¯d do what was right. But it was very selfish of me. I shouldn¡¯t have involved you.¡±


    Nel blinked. ¡°Me and Brand? But he doesn¡¯t love me.¡±


    ¡°You knew?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s obvious. He sees me more as a sister. Or maybe as a fellow artist. We have that connection and are good friends, but he doesn¡¯t want to marry me. He doesn¡¯t have those kinds of feelings for me.¡±


    ¡°What feelings?¡± Seri said, in frustration. ¡°I don¡¯t understand what he wants.¡±


    ¡°Passion, I suppose,¡± Nel said.


    ¡°Passion?¡± Seri echoed. ¡°You mean lust?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s different. Passion is like¡­ well, with art. Some days it¡¯s easy and fun and the most wonderful thing in the world, and some days it¡¯s hard and frustrating and never goes how you want it to. But you can¡¯t seem to stop, because having it makes everything more intense, more beautiful. It matters, somehow.¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­ terrifying,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°It is.¡±


    ¡°And exhausting. And unstable. And¡­ who would want to live that way? Love shouldn¡¯t be driven by passion, it should kind and gentle and honest and good. Love should want what¡¯s best for the other person. Love is a choice you make every day, not a feeling that strikes you over the head and leaves just as quickly. Who can build a life on that?¡±


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    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± Nel said.


    Seri looked down. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m supposed to be apologizing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s nothing to apologize for. No harm¡¯s been done.¡±


    ¡°It was still wrong. Do you forgive me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Nel hugged Seri. ¡°You¡¯re a good person. I¡¯m glad we¡¯re friends.¡±


    Seri pulled away. ¡°Nel. Can I ask you something? It might be inappropriate, but¡­¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Brand said you¡¯d go back and marry the man you hated. Is that true?¡±


    Nel looked down.


    ¡°Why?¡± Seri asked. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s simple,¡± Nel said. ¡°I do loathe that man, but he will help my family. Brand will not. If I were to marry him, I could never go home. I do like Brand. But I don¡¯t love him enough to give up everything I have. To give up my mother and father and sisters.¡±


    Seri had not thought about it like that. She¡¯d had some vague idea that Brand might be able to take care of Nel, and perhaps, he could. But he¡¯d already kidnapped several girls and raided their family¡¯s vaults. Were he to settle down with Nel at House Delmen, he¡¯d bring all his enemies down upon their heads.


    ¡°Can I ask you something inappropriate?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you make Brand an offer? I spoke to him, and it doesn¡¯t seem like he¡¯s asking for much. Why not give him what he wants and go home?¡±


    Seri shook her head. ¡°I wish I could do that, Nel, I really do. But I can¡¯t bargain with him. He needs to free me on his own.¡±


    ¡°To show you that he cares about you?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°If only it were so easy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I still don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t, either¡± Seri said. ¡°I just have it in my head that this is the right thing to do, the only right thing to do. And if I fail at this, I will lose my soul¡­ and probably his as well.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s for his sake?¡±


    Seri sighed. ¡°How do I explain this? When I first came here, I fought Brand on everything: dinner, dresses, where to sleep. I was convinced he was a monster, that everything he did was evil, and if I just did the opposite, I would be able to live rightly. But it wasn¡¯t that simple. He¡¯s not a monster; he has a soul. And if he has a soul, then isn¡¯t it my duty to¡­ to love him as my fellow man? To hope and pray for him to not continue on this evil path he¡¯s laid out for himself.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s heavy burden.¡±


    ¡°Who else will hold him accountable?¡± Seri asked. ¡°No one will even speak against him. And I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not saying that you¡¯re wrong. In your eyes, he rescued you. I understand that. You bring out the best in him, Nel, in all of us. I admire you for that. I really wish I could be more like you. But I can¡¯t. I¡¯m not fitted that way. I have to judge what is right and try my best to do it, or else¡­ or else, what is the purpose of living? I¡¯ve compromised on so many things¡ªbut I can¡¯t compromise on this. I will not bargain with him.¡±


    ¡°But it hurts you.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid he might¡ª?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m constantly afraid, Nel. That¡¯s why I tried to meddle. It was a shortcut. As if pushing him onto a better path could somehow force him to do the right thing. It was a foolish notion, to think that love could change him.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that foolish,¡± Nel said. ¡°He just doesn¡¯t love me.¡± Pause. ¡°And even if he did, I¡¯m not sure it would do any good. I¡¯m not the kind of person who feels comfortable asking someone to change for me. I either like who they are, or I don¡¯t. I like Brand. I accept who he is, the good and the bad. He¡¯s just Brand. He doesn¡¯t have to be anything else.¡±


    ¡°Is that how I ought to be?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°No. You ought to be Seri, who expects the world to be better than it is and works tirelessly to change it. I find the best in people, but you make them better. That¡¯s probably why¡­¡±


    She trailed off.


    ¡°Why what?¡± Seri asked.


    Nel licked her lips. ¡°Brand does care about you. You know that, right? I think he¡¯ll let you go¡­ eventually. But if he only ever does the right thing once, will it be worth it? All the pain and the fear and time spent away from home¡ªto see him do one good deed?¡±


    It was something to think about.


    One good deed.


    And Seri could not expect more, because she had not asked for more. She wanted to steer Brand away from kidnapping and vengeance and see him pursue things that were good. But, realistically, she could barely get him to do something easy. And she didn¡¯t want to stay with him her whole life, always fighting and scared and frustrated by his stubbornness. She wanted to go home.


    One good deed. Why bother?


    Seri sighed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s worth it,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s the right thing to do. It¡¯s the only thing I¡¯m sure of. And so I need to see it through. No matter the cost.¡±

 Chapter 46

    ¡°Not gardening?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°Not at the moment,¡± Seri said.


    She sat on a bench, near the tower wall, staring at the plants. The lilies were all dying, but the chrysanthemums were coming up in rich hues of red and gold and orange.


    ¡°Nel¡¯s on the other side,¡± Seri said absently.


    ¡°Yes, I know.¡± Brand sat next to her ¡°Trying to get the chickens to stay still long enough to sketch them. I was in her way, so I thought I¡¯d come over here and bother you.¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± Seri said absently.


    Brand frowned. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± she said.


    ¡°Seri.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m worried.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡±


    Seri stared at her hands. ¡°What will happen to Nel, when she has to go home and marry the man she hates?¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have to marry him.¡±


    ¡°But she will. Because she thinks it will save her family. And I can¡¯t fault her motives. But at the same time, I can¡¯t stand the thought of her¡­ of her giving herself to a man who will use her and hurt her and break her spirit. Who would choose that?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine,¡± Brand said dryly.


    ¡°And it¡¯s not just her. Gretchen spoke about being a dragon as though it was something to be desired. She¡¯d rather turn into a monster than suffer the pain she¡¯s in now.¡±


    ¡°What pain?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. She won¡¯t say, but you have only to look at her to see it. She¡¯s like¡­ like a lamb to the slaughter. Like she¡¯s waiting for someone to come along and snap her neck. And maybe someone will.¡±


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    Brand was silent.


    ¡°Gretchen¡¯s to be married,¡± he said at last. ¡°Would her husband treat her better?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Seri said. ¡°She never met the man. And I¡¯m not sure that marriage will happen. Not now that¡­ I know you haven¡¯t touched her, but they don¡¯t know that. If the man refuses to wed her¡­.¡±


    Seri wrapped her arms in. How terrible would it be, if this was the happy time in Gretchen¡¯s life¡ªthis moment, when the bad things just stopped.


    ¡°What do you want me to do, Seri?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to do anything, Brand. These are my worries, not yours.¡±


    She thought he might leave or change the subject, but he didn¡¯t. He sat with her, not looking at her, but at the garden, where the plants were coming up.


    ¡°Gretchen can¡¯t stay here,¡± he said.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t have to return her to home. I can bring her somewhere else¡ªanywhere she wishes to go.¡±


    ¡°Where would she go?¡±


    ¡°Maybe she has family somewhere. Or maybe she can stay at an abbey or a church. There must be some place she¡¯d be safe. It won¡¯t be here, though.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her about it,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°As for Nel¡ªthat¡¯s tricky. She wants to go back. Maybe the man won¡¯t want her anymore, if he thinks I¡¯ve defiled her.¡±


    ¡°But if he does still want her¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then she needs to find a way to say no,¡± Brand said. ¡°In a way, it¡¯s lucky I kidnapped her, because now she can learn.¡±


    ¡°By refusing your advances?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°By watching your example.¡±


    ¡°Nel should learn to be obstinate and stubborn?¡±


    ¡°She should, yes. And you are the best at that, Seri. I mean it as the highest compliment.¡±


    Seri smiled.


    He smiled back. ¡°Of course, you could learn from her, too.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Here we go.¡±


    ¡°To be a little more accommodating.¡±


    ¡°I accommodate you plenty.¡±


    ¡°Not in the way I prefer,¡± he said in a low voice.


    That heat was radiating off him again. Seri could feel it. She knew he was staring at her. Normally, she¡¯d feel sort of repulsed by the attention, but she wanted to understand it, so she turned and met his stare. There was something almost yearning in his eyes. Not angry. Not lustful. A bit sad. Almost sweet.


    Seri looked down. ¡°Thank you for talking with me.¡±


    ¡°Any time.¡±


    ¡°Brand?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°If Gretchen doesn¡¯t¡­ if she doesn¡¯t make you an offer¡­ would you¡­ would you treat her like you do me?¡± Seri looked at him. ¡°Would you let her turn into a dragon?¡±


    She saw a flicker of pain wrack his face, but he turned his head and held a hand to his temple, as though to hide it. As though ashamed. She wondered at the look, if it were a brief flash of empathy or the source of a deeper wound. Brand lowered his hand, his expression once more composed. But sadness lingered in his eyes.


    ¡°No, Seri,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I won¡¯t treat her like you. Gretchen will not turn into a dragon, I promise.¡±

 Chapter 47

    There was a moment when all three girls and the minstrel were standing near the fireplace in Brand¡¯s private room¡ªfor it was getting cold and his private room was the only place with a decent fireplace¡ªand the minstrel was giving lute-playing lessons to Gretchen, and Seri and Nel were endeavoring to sing along. But since Gretchen was going at a pace that would put a snail to shame, Seri and Nel were having to hold their notes, so that their voices squeaked and warbled. Finally they could hold their notes no longer and broke down, gasping for breath and laughing.


    It was in this moment, that Brand realized he was happy.


    Not that he¡¯d ever thought of himself as unhappy, not really. But the warmth that bubbled in his chest in this moment felt stronger and richer than the pleasures he typically knew. Brand offered the giggling girls water, and when he handed the goblet to Seri, the tips of her fingers bumped carelessly against his hand.


    ¡°Perhaps now Minstrel Jakob should grace us with one final song?¡± Seri suggested.


    ¡°As you wish, my lady. Any requests?¡±


    ¡°How about the Ballad of Tristan and Isolde?¡± Nel said.


    The minstrel tuned his lute and began the slow song of tragic lovers. Seri sat near Brand, and in the semi-dark of the room, her eyes shone. She swayed to the music and smiled. And when the minstrel sang of undying love, she shut her eyes briefly and gave a happy little sigh. She was so beautiful, it warmed Brand to his belly, and he loved her.


    He loved her.


    Brand picked up his wine glass, which he¡¯d set on the chess table, and took a sip. He wished¡­


    He wished it came as more of a surprise.


    He had suspected he¡¯d loved her since¡­ well, at least since he¡¯d kidnapped Nel. Probably before that, but Nel had confirmed it. Nel was everything Brand ought to desire¡­ sweet and artistic and pretty¡­ yet try as he might, he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about Seri. He couldn¡¯t stop wanting her.


    He¡¯d tried to tell himself that wanting was all it was. Desire. Obsession. Lust. He¡¯d tried to rouse himself with lurid daydreams, which always ended with Seri smiling at him and laying her head on her shoulder and whispering that she wouldn¡¯t leave him.


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    So he loved her.


    Fine. Brand took another sip of wine and laid the glass back on the chessboard.


    Why not admit it, at least to himself? If he wanted to be soft and romantic and sentimental, that was his business. When the minstrel sang the tragic ballad, he felt it all the more. Tristan and Isolde had nothing on him, for at least they had each other, at least they knew they were loved.


    He wanted to tell her.


    He wanted to tell Seri that he loved her.


    Not for any practical reason. Certainly not because he thought she¡¯d say it back. Most likely, it was some combination of the wine and the music that made the idea so compelling. Not rational, not at all, but if he were rational, he wouldn¡¯t have fallen for Seri in the first place. Why love someone who couldn¡¯t love him back?


    But screw it, if he were doomed to a tragic romance, he might as well enjoy it and wring all the anguish from it he could get.


    The minstrel¡¯s song ended, and he prepared to depart. Gretchen and Nel walked him to the door. Seri started to get to her feet, but Brand cleared his throat.


    ¡°Seri,¡± he said. ¡°Do you think you might stay here a moment more?¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Nothing much,¡± he said. ¡°I just have something I wanted to tell you.


    ¡°If you intend to compliment my singing, I suggest that you do so elsewhere,¡± Seri said in a playful tone. ¡°You know you can¡¯t lie in here.¡±


    He laughed¡ªprobably more than he should have¡ªfor he felt very tipsy, despite not having imbued more than two glasses of wine all night. It was the happiness that was getting to him, that warmth swelling in his chest, trying to break free.


    ¡°Your singing is¡ªI quite enjoyed it,¡± he said. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I was going to say.¡± He took her hand into his own. ¡°Seri¡­¡±


    Her hand felt surprisingly hard. Not rough, not like chapped skin¡ªnot like skin at all. Brand looked down¡­.


    Seri yanked her hand away and hid it behind her back.


    ¡°It¡¯s late,¡± she said.


    ¡°Seri, your hand¡­¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m tired,¡± she said loudly. ¡°I think I¡¯ll retire, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Seri¡­¡±


    ¡°Good night, Brand.¡±


    Seri turned and all but ran out of the room.


    Brand was too dumbfounded to stop her. He was still processing what he saw. They looked, at first, like bumps across her skin, but they were not, for they were in too much a pattern, and they had a golden tinge.


    Scales.


    Brand took a deep breath.


    He knew that the grace period was over. It had been over for¡­ almost three months now. Brand shut his eyes. Was it that long? This was bad, this was very bad. And a part of him knew, a part of him was aware that this was happening, but he hadn¡¯t wanted to think about it. He hadn¡¯t wanted to think of¡­ of her leaving.


    It tore out his insides whenever he thought of it.


    But he had put this off for too long now.


    He had to let her go.

 Chapter 48

    ¡°Seri, I would like to see you in my private room,¡± Brand said, after dinner, the next day.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Seri asked.


    Yes. She was leaving, and he felt sick at the thought. He¡¯d spent the whole day trying to gather his courage, and even after three glasses of wine, he still felt jumpy and anxious. Looking at her hurt. Still, Brand managed to smile, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.


    ¡°Not wrong,¡± he said. ¡°But something has come to my attention. And I wish to talk about it.¡±


    Seri nodded. ¡°Very well, then.¡±


    She took his arm, and they walked to his private room. Brand tried not to think that this was the last time she would walk with him. Seri took her seat, and he poured her a glass of water.


    ¡°You know how we always say we¡¯ll talk about you turning into a dragon later?¡± Brand said.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He put the cup down beside her. ¡°It¡¯s later.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Seri took a sip of the water.


    He sat down close beside her, gazing at her.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re suffering,¡± he said quietly. ¡°You need not.¡±


    ¡°Then end it,¡± she said.


    ¡°I will,¡± he said. ¡°But you must give me something.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t even know what you want from me¡ª¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± he said.


    She squirmed. ¡°I won¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know you won¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m aware you won¡¯t. That¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking.¡± He paused and licked his lips. ¡°I want you to kiss me, Seri.¡±


    ¡°Brand¡­¡±


    ¡°Just a single, brief kiss. Please.¡±


    She looked down and shook her head.


    ¡°You find me that repulsive?¡±


    ¡°I find your actions repulsive.¡±


    ¡°You have a counteroffer?¡±


    ¡°I want you to break the curse because it¡¯s the right thing to do.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Brand said, irritated. ¡°You want me to repent. You think to use my attraction to you to rid me of my evil ways.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I want you to repent,¡± Seri said. ¡°Have I made a secret of it? Why is it so hard for you to do this one good deed? I know you are capable of it. I have seen you with Nel and Gretchen. You¡¯re willing to help them, but when I ask¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you know what it is you ask of me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± He stared her in the eye.


    She took a breath.


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    ¡°Because I know,¡± he continued softly. ¡°You have shown your hand, milady. It is not a single good deed you are after. You want to change me¡ªfrom an immoral libertine to a steady and righteous husband. Is that not why you were so eager to match me with Nel?¡±


    ¡°I want you to change your habits, Brand,¡± Seri said, without quite looking him in the eye. ¡°I want you to cease kidnapping girls and¡ª¡±


    ¡°This is my life, Seri. I¡¯ll not change it for you.¡±


    ¡°Do you even know why you kidnap girls?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°I told you.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t doing it for vengeance,¡± she said. ¡°Not anymore. The men who wronged you are dead, and even if you still sought their ancestors, you would not find them with Gretchen and Nel.¡±


    He did not reply. His throat felt dry.


    ¡°You are kidnapping girls, because you want a family,¡± Seri said. ¡°Because you want to be loved.¡±


    The words hit him like a punch to the stomach. Brand stood up. He walked to the water jug and poured himself a glass.


    ¡°You believe I seek love?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Have you not told me as much?¡± she replied.


    He sipped his water. ¡°Kidnapping young women does not seem like a good way of securing their affection.¡±


    ¡°No, it is a terrible method,¡± Seri said, standing up. ¡°But it is the only way you have. To coerce women into pretending that they¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± he said.


    She stopped.


    ¡°You could have the real thing,¡± she said softly.


    ¡°By marrying a nice girl.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He set his glass down. ¡°And who would I marry, Seri? Are you volunteering?¡±


    She was silent.


    ¡°No, I thought not. Your righteousness does not extend so far as that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure there are many young women who would have you.¡±


    ¡°Would they?¡±


    ¡°You have great magic¡ª¡±


    ¡°You think I want to be married for that?¡± he shouted. ¡°Oh, yes, I¡¯m sure I could find a girl to marry me for my power or my bloodline or because her father forced her to. But that is not what I want. I want her to choose me. Not my magic. Me.¡±


    ¡°Someone will choose you, Brand.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    Seri tilted her head. ¡°Why do you say¡ª?¡±


    ¡°After what I¡¯ve done?¡± he yelled. ¡°Who would choose me? Nel¡¯s fianc¨¦ was a cruel, vicious, ugly man whom she hated¡ªand she would marry him. But she will not marry me. You won¡¯t even deign to kiss me. None of the girls I¡¯ve brought have ever chosen me.¡±


    ¡°Because you kidnapped them!¡± Seri said. ¡°How could anyone choose you, when you don¡¯t give them a choice? Not a true choice. To adore you or to turn into a dragon. Who would choose to be a dragon?¡±


    ¡°You, apparently,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Would you have me pretend to¡ª¡±


    ¡°I have never asked you to pretend!¡± he yelled. ¡°When have I ever asked you to lie? I know you don¡¯t love me. I know none of these girls love me. If they loved me, they would stay. A token, a kiss, what passes between us through the night¡ªnone of those things change the fact that as soon as I release them, they will set the dogs upon me. As soon as I let you go, you will hunt down that powerful uncle of yours and beg him to present my head on a pike.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°I want you to have a future.¡±


    ¡°But not with you.¡±


    She looked down.


    Brand felt despair hit him. She did not know how hard it would be for him to release her. To know that once he did, he would never again have her in his life. Never a touch, never a smile, never a word. An illusion was all he would have left of her. She was so dear to him, and he meant nothing to her.


    After a moment, Seri said, ¡°Why is it important I give you something?¡±


    ¡°Because I want it.¡±


    ¡°Why do you want it?¡±


    ¡°Seri, anything you ask for, I shall give you. Can you not give me something?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve asked for my freedom. You¡¯ve never given me that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve given you other things.¡±


    ¡°Not what I truly want.¡±


    ¡°Well, I want to sleep with you,¡± Brand said bluntly. ¡°But I don¡¯t demand that of you. I¡¯m willing to compromise. I ask that you do the same.¡±


    ¡°You want me to compromise my morals.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he snapped. ¡°I want you to compromise them. For me. Get off your high horse for once in your life, before you destroy yourself over nothing.¡±


    ¡°It is not nothing.¡±


    ¡°It is nothing!¡± he insisted.


    ¡°Your soul is not nothing!¡± Seri yelled. ¡°Your life is not nothing. You are better than this. You can be better than this.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± Brand was taken aback. ¡°You¡¯re doing this for me?¡±


    Seri looked down. ¡°If you continue on this path¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªI¡¯ll ruin the lives of other girls,¡± he said. ¡°Is that what you meant to say?¡±


    ¡°I was not speaking of¡ª¡±


    ¡°But you care about them.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Their lives. Their souls. Their happiness. Not mine.¡±


    ¡°Brand, I care¡ª¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t!¡± he yelled.


    Silence.


    ¡°Brand,¡± she said softly. ¡°You know that I can¡¯t lie in this room. When I say I care for you¡ª¡±


    ¡°You mean that you pity me,¡± he said. ¡°You see me as some poor sinner whose soul you can redeem. My soul is not yours to save.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t presume¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get out!¡± he said.


    She stared. ¡°I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get out, Seri! I am done with you tonight.¡±

 Chapter 49

    As soon as Seri left, Brand grabbed Seri¡¯s water goblet and threw it into wall. The crystal smashed into the stones, leaving a wet stain. You could be better, she¡¯d said. Better! He¡¯d show her better! He picked up the whole game table and hurled it across the room. It didn¡¯t quite make it as far as the wall, but when it hit the floor, the drawer smashed, and all the chess pieces scattered the floor. Heaving a breath, Brand went over to the mantel and poured himself a glass of brandy.


    Why did he lose every damn fight against her? This should not have even been a fight. How hard should it have been to persuade someone to not be cursed? It was ridiculous.


    Brand drained the cup in one swig, not caring that the liquor burned his throat.


    The irony was, he had thought long and hard about breaking the curse, no strings attached, just do what she wanted and let her go home. It would be easy, so much easier than arguing with her, over and over again. And at this point, her stubbornness was starting to hurt him. That was her strategy, of course, and it was working. He hated seeing her in pain.


    So, yes, he had considered giving in¡ªbut he couldn¡¯t do it.


    He just¡­ he couldn¡¯t. First of all, it would undermine his authority. Who would believe him, if he kept breaking his own rules? But more than that¡­ more than that¡­ If he did break the spell, it would be admitting that¡­ that¡­


    No.


    He shouldn¡¯t have to. He had compromised. Hadn¡¯t he taken care of Gretchen, agreed to let her go, left Nel alone? Hadn¡¯t he bought her all sorts of gifts? Seri should be able to do this one thing for him¡ªfor herself. Why should he have to beg her to save her own skin? He had tried so hard to make it easy for her. Couldn¡¯t she try, just once, to make it easy on him?


    But no. Of course, she couldn¡¯t. Brand poured more brandy in his glass.


    Brand really wanted her to kiss him. He hadn¡¯t thought she would, but he¡¯d hoped. Barring that, he¡¯d have taken just about anything she offered. A painting, a flower, a shake of her hand¡ªhe didn¡¯t care. Even so, he¡¯d steeled himself to argue and yell and ask her if she really believed that this¡­ principle¡­ was worth dying for. He¡¯d braced for a long evening, prepared to wear her down. But then¡­


    But then¡­.


    Why did she have to say she was doing it for him?


    Why did she have to say she cared about him?


    It hit too close to what he really wanted. During the argument, he had been somewhat inured to the pain, but as soon as she was gone, it hit him, and it hurt. It felt like she had torn him inside out and or flayed him raw. Like she had pulled out some vulnerable part of him and crushed it. He just felt this intense pain, and it was her fault. She did this to him!


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    You could be better¡­


    Screw her! Be better! Be some well-behaved stuffed doll, she meant, some joyless fool who scraped and bowed and spent his whole life being pushed around. Is that what she wanted? She was never satisfied. She was stubborn and self-righteous, and she never loved him and never would¡ªshe had not the faintest idea of what love was. All she cared about was duty and obligation. She had no feeling whatsoever, no passion, just a bunch of rules and codes she rigidly stuck by, standards so high no earthly mortal could hope to meet them. And yet he had allowed himself to fall for her and practically let her control his life. He had given her everything and still it wasn¡¯t enough. Nothing was ever enough.


    Brand downed his second brandy and started on his third.


    Seri thought he was bad. She had no fucking idea. Had he ever struck her? Beat her? Starved her? Ripped off her clothes and raped her? No. He had never so much as touched her, and he was the monster?


    Why the fuck did he love her? What was wrong with him that he always fell for the wrong sort of woman?


    He drained the remainder of the brandy and tossed the glass aside.


    He¡¯d get another girl. How hard was it to do? He could go out and buy any whore he desired and take his frustrations out on her. He could buy a whole brothel, bring them to his tower, and fuck them in front of her. Who cared? He was never going to have a wife and a family; he might as well do what he liked.


    Brand rolled out his carpet and flew to town, with half a mind to actually do it¡ªto find the brothel, buy out all the whores, and parade them in front of Seri. But he didn¡¯t actually know where the brothel was or if the town even had one, and before he could think of finding one, he saw the houses down below, a few of their windows still lit with candles. He heard the dogs barking, babies crying¡ªand that pain came back again, twice as bad. He kept thinking of the evening, with the minstrel teaching the girls a song, and Gretchen coming out of her shell, and Seri and Nel singing, and how happy he¡¯d felt then, really, finally happy¡­


    You could have better.


    No, he couldn¡¯t. He was never going to have more than this. And it wasn¡¯t so bad, was it? He had a good life. He had magic. He had art. He had girls. He could do whatever he wanted, and no one could tell him otherwise. He was free. If he tried for anything better, if he let go of what he had¡­.


    Brand shook himself. Why was he looking for a brothel, anyway? It wasn¡¯t as if he had any desire to fuck a common whore. Seri thought he could do better. Well, he could certainly do better than her. He¡¯d find some beautiful, sophisticated lady¡ªsomeone prettier than Seri¡ªand he¡¯d shower the new girl with favors and attention, and Seri could just sit in her room and pout until she came to her senses and begged him to end the curse. And if she felt pain, then so be it. He didn¡¯t care. She could cry and scream and turn into a dragon. It was her own damn fault!


    He tried to think of where to go. Where could he find a beautiful, sophisticated woman? He couldn¡¯t go to a Castle¡ªeven half-drunk, he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to breach a Castle impulsively. He¡¯d have to find one from a House. Most of the Houses bragged about the beauty of their women¡ªthey had to, since their women had almost no magic and small dowries. Brand dimly recalled hearing the women from the lake region were particularly pretty. He flew in that direction.


    The lake region was far, and by the time he got there, it was sunrise. He flew from house to house and peered over the garden walls. It took him three or four tries before he found her.


    The girl he wanted.


    She was perfect. She sat in a group of women, but she outshone them all. She had very long, black hair that she was brushing and weaving flowers into. She had red lips and a white bosom, and, moreover, she had a sensual way of moving her body, which hinted of flirtation and experience.


    Brand didn¡¯t even bother to be subtle. It wasn¡¯t as if the House had magic. He dropped out of the sky, pushed everyone aside, and threw her into the carpet. Then he rode off.

 Chapter 50

    Reality hit as soon as Brand caught her, for the girl screamed like a banshee and kicked and fought. The last two girls he¡¯d kidnapped were almost willing. He¡¯d forgotten what it was like to have to be rough with them. Brand had no choice but to roll her in the carpet, and even then, she screamed and yelled and cursed like a demon.


    ¡°Let go of me, you bastard! Let me go!¡±


    When he arrived back, it was late in the day. Brand hadn¡¯t slept all night. A headache pulsed in his skull, made worse by the girl¡¯s high-pitched yelps. He flew up to one of the deserted rooms and rolled her out of the carpet. She did not come quietly.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± she yelled ¡°My father will string you by the neck for this!¡±


    She ran at him, fists flying. But the magic of the castle held her back. This didn¡¯t stop her from flailing and frothing, the wilted flowers falling from her hair. Brand took a deep breath.


    ¡°My lady¡ª¡± he began.


    ¡°My brothers will gut you!¡± She screeched. ¡°My sisters will wear your intestines as ribbons.¡±


    ¡°I am a sorcerer. You are¡ª¡±


    ¡°My mother will gouge out your eyes!¡± she cried. ¡°My grandma will dance at your grave, you damned whoreson bastard¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Brand yelled.


    He slammed all the windows shut and switched his face to that of his grandfather.


    She stared. ¡°What sort of demon are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a sorcerer. You are in my power. Lie down on the bed.¡±


    Instead, the girl grabbed one of the wine glasses and threw it at him. Either she had terrible aim, or the magic of the castle intervened. The glass flew at the wall and shattered. Brand let out an impatient sigh, bound her with his magic ropes, and pinned her flat on the bed.


    ¡°You raping bastard!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°I said be quiet!¡±


    Brand pushed the curse into her, but she hardly seemed to notice, intent as she was at cursing him out. He let her go, and she flew out of the bed and went at him, once more. The coils held her back from him, but they did not stop her from grabbing everything she could find and throwing it at him.


    ¡°Stop destroying my things,¡± he said in a low voice.


    But she wouldn¡¯t. She was red-faced, having a full-on tantrum, screaming curses at him.


    ¡°Let me go, you raping bastard, you whoreson dog¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Brand yelled at last, stringing the ropes around her, binding her like a cocoon. And since she wouldn¡¯t shut up, he muffled her as well.


    The ropes bound her tongue, her jaw, her vocal chords. It felt very much like being strangled. Brand knew, because his grandfather had done it to him, when he was a child. The girl¡¯s eyes went wide, but she continued to thrash. So he bound her tighter and tighter, until she could no longer move.


    ¡°Are you an idiot?¡± Brand asked. ¡°Do you have absolutely no concept of what magic can do? You are in my power and that means I can kill you without so much as raising my hand. I suggest you stop struggling and listen to me!¡±


    Finally, she stopped resisting and went still. Brand did not know if it was the ropes or his words that had done the trick. It didn¡¯t matter. He didn¡¯t release her.


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    ¡°I put a curse on you,¡± he said quietly. ¡°In three months, you will be transformed into a dragon, unless I choose to lift it. Once you are a dragon, you will have no mind of your own. You will obey me. I can set you upon that precious family of yours. Your father, mother, brothers, sisters, grandma¡ªthey will scream as you burn them to cinders. Do you understand?¡±


    He threw her on the bed and released her from the bindings. She lay on the blankets, gasping for breath.


    ¡°You will come downstairs for dinner,¡± Brand said coldly. ¡°By then, you had better learn to control yourself. I will treat you as you act. If you act like a lady, then your stay here will be pleasant. If you continue to act like an animal, you will find yourself sleeping outside and rooting for table scraps on the floor.¡±


    She clutched her throat and did not speak.


    He left. His words sounded like something his grandfather might say, but he did not care, for though he hated the man, he had respected him. Brand would be respected. He was sick of being walked all over. He stomped downstairs and found Seri and the other girls waiting. They must have heard, for none of them would meet his eye.


    ¡°Explain the rules to the new girl,¡± Brand told Seri.


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her,¡± she said. ¡°For her sake,¡± she added, under her breath.


    ¡°Oh, what a surprise,¡± Brand snapped. ¡°You¡¯ll not do it for me. What have you ever done for me, Seri? Not a goddamn thing!¡±


    He glared at her, daring her to reply.


    ¡°Brand¡­¡± Nel said, coming closer.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± he said sharply, and she drew back.


    ¡°I will see to the girl,¡± Seri said quietly and walked upstairs.


    Brand felt his rage dissolve. He looked at Nel and saw, for the first time, a look of terror on her face. He glanced at Gretchen and saw that her head was down and her expression blank. He felt a twinge of pain at their looks, but what could he say? He walked off.


    Because the new girl did not have her mirror covered¡ªeither, he had remembered to remove the covering or it had fallen over in the fight¡ªhe was able to see her. The new girl grabbed her pillow and screamed into it. At the knock on the door, she jumped up, throwing the pillow away. She went to ground and picked up a shard of glass, holding it as a weapon.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± she called.


    ¡°My name is Serihilde of Castle Staghome. Seri, for short. I¡¯m one of the girls Brand kidnapped.¡±


    ¡°There are others?¡±


    ¡°Four of us, including you. May I come in?¡±


    The girl did not let go of the glass shard, but she did open the door.


    ¡°Hello,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°How do you know his name?¡±


    ¡°He told me.¡±


    ¡°Are you working for him? You don¡¯t seem to have put up much of a fight.¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± Seri said. ¡°At first. And I still resist him in my own way¡ª¡±


    ¡°What does he want? What is he going to do to us?¡±


    ¡°He¡­¡± Seri hesitated. ¡°What he wants is complicated¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to rape me, isn¡¯t he? Oh, God¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, no, not¡ª¡±


    ¡°How bad is it? How often does he do it?¡±


    ¡°What is your name?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Alonsa. Of House Whitemoor.¡±


    ¡°Alonsa, listen. Brand is not going to sleep with you unless he thinks you¡¯re willing.¡±


    ¡°What? Why? He¡¯s no gentleman, I can tell you that much. He kidnapped me.¡±


    ¡°I know. But he¡¯s peculiar¡ª¡±


    ¡°He said he¡¯d turn me into a dragon. Was he lying? Can he actually do it?¡±


    Seri showed her the scales.


    Alonsa began to panic. ¡°Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Seri said.


    But Alonsa began to go into hysterics, babbling incoherently and cursing. She was in such a tizzy, she¡¯d hardly let Seri get a word in edgewise. Brand supposed he should feel sorry for her, but he did not. He brought out his book on the Lords and Ladies of Houses and Castles and, but he found nothing of note. By the time he¡¯d finished, Seri had finally succeeded in getting Alonsa to calm down and was explaining the situation to her.


    ¡°So, you just give him whatever he wants, and he¡¯ll let you go home?¡± Alonsa said.


    ¡°Right,¡± Seri replied.


    ¡°What does he want?¡± Alonsa asked. ¡°Sex?¡±


    Brand rolled his eyes. Always the first thing they thought of.


    ¡°Well,¡± Seri said quietly, ¡°he has been known to sleep with the women he¡ª¡±


    ¡°Did you sleep with him?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re turning into a dragon?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not¡ªI won¡¯t give him¡ª¡±


    ¡°What? If he doesn¡¯t want sex, what does he want?¡±


    ¡°Typically, families have magic objects. If you¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any. I¡¯m from a House, not a Castle.¡±


    ¡°Well, then¡­ it may be something else.¡±


    ¡°What else could it be? He wants me to sleep with him. Fine. If that¡¯s all he wants, I¡¯ll do it. Then, he¡¯ll send me home, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ We¡¯ve been trying to resist his seductions¡ª¡±


    ¡°And look where it¡¯s gotten you,¡± Alonsa said. ¡°Before long, he won¡¯t even want to sleep with you, and then where will you be? No, I¡¯ll sleep with him tonight, then he¡¯ll break the spell and send me back the next morning.¡±


    ¡°Usually it takes three months¡ª¡±


    ¡°Three months? Are you crazy? Why would you wait that long? Just fuck him and get it over with.¡±


    Brand stopped watching. He¡¯d heard enough. He was rather upset by the whole conversation. He did not like that she had been rude to Seri. He did not like her flippant attitude toward sleeping with him. Frankly, he just didn¡¯t like her. This was what happened when he acted on impulse. It never ended well.

 Chapter 51

    Brand tried to get some sleep before dinner. The nap did not do much to refresh him, for he woke, a couple hours later, with a throbbing headache. He dragged himself out of bed and plunged his head into the water basin.


    Water dripped down his face. Brand stared at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes rumpled, and stubble grew around his jaw.


    Brand wiped his face and put on an illusion. Something simple. He chose the guise of a handsome blond man.


    Rilla had preferred that one.


    Rilla had been beautiful and graceful. She¡¯d let him sleep with him.


    But that wasn¡¯t a good memory.


    Brand removed the illusion and sighed. How long had it been since he¡¯d stopped wearing disguises? He¡¯d taken it for granted, looking like himself. He liked being seen. He liked knowing that his was the face Seri preferred.


    A sharp pain filled him again. Damn it, why did he have to think of her?


    He went downstairs, messy and tired, but looking like himself. He flung open the dining room doors and saw all the girls were present and dressed for dinner. Alonsa had chosen the golden dress. She looked very pretty, not that it affected him much.


    ¡°Ladies, you look lovely this evening,¡± he said, more out of habit than any real feeling. ¡°Please, join me for dinner.¡±


    Normally, he¡¯d ask for someone¡¯s arm, but he didn¡¯t bother tonight.


    As he turned and stalked into the dining room, he heard Alonsa whisper to Seri.


    ¡°Is that¡ª?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Brand, yes,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°If he can make himself look handsome, why does he need to kidnap girls?¡±


    Brand whirled around. ¡°You think I need to kidnap girls?¡±


    For a second, Alonsa froze. But then, emboldened, she stepped forward. ¡°Well, then, what is this? A game of some sort?¡±


    ¡°I guess you¡¯ll find out.¡±


    Brand walked toward his chair, not in the mood to talk. The other girls¡ªhis girls¡ªseemed to sense this. The new girl did not. She strode quite close to him, hovering near his arm.


    ¡°We play your game, you send us home? Is that how it works?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Brand sat down.


    Alonsa sat beside him. ¡°So what do I¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Seri¡¯s chair,¡± he snapped.


    Alonsa stood up.


    ¡°Seri¡¯s at my right hand, Nel¡¯s at my left. Gretchen sits by Seri. You can sit by Nel. That is the seating arrangement,¡± Brand said coldly. ¡°I suggest you learn your place.¡±


    Alonsa moved.


    Brand knew he was being harsh on Alonsa, but he didn¡¯t care. He was in a bad mood. Tonight¡¯s menu was duck. He pried off a drumstick and a wing. The girls ate, too, without talking, and for a time, there was silence.


    After a while, Alonsa said, ¡°Is the point of the game to get women to sleep with you?¡±


    Brand dropped the wing. ¡°Some do sleep with me, yes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯ll do it right now, if¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m eating dinner,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡ª¡± Alonsa glanced at Seri. ¡°I¡¯m not like these other girls.¡±


    ¡°I can tell.¡±


    ¡°I can be very nice. You¡¯ll find I¡¯m¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you,¡± Brand said bluntly.


    Alonsa looked shocked.


    ¡°Then why did you bring her here?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know. I have half a mind to return her.¡±


    ¡°You should,¡± Seri said softly. ¡°You should let her go home.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d like that, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Brand tilted his head. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll bring her home¡ªif you sleep with me.¡±


    The whole dining room went silent.


    ¡°You know I won¡¯t do that,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Alonsa said.


    ¡°Because she has morals. Her high and mighty morals,¡± Brand added sarcastically. ¡°What''s the problem, Seri? Is one girl not enough for you? Fine. Sleep with me, and I¡¯ll send home everyone, including you.¡±


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    Seri looked down. ¡°Brand¡ª¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t do it,¡± he said. ¡°No. Why would you? You¡¯ve already gotten me to let Gretchen go, and Nel has made her arrangements. It¡¯s a poor bargain. What would be a good bargain?¡± He tapped a finger across the table. ¡°I know. You want me to stop kidnapping girls altogether. Very well. Sleep with me, and I¡¯ll stop.¡±


    The other girls were staring, but Brand didn¡¯t look at them. His eyes were on Seri. He leaned toward her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stop kidnapping girls. I¡¯ll stop cursing them. I¡¯ll swear oaths and enforce them by magic. That is what you want, isn¡¯t it? You get to stop me from ruining lives, to claim credit for saving my soul, to be a hero. Fine. Then you give me what I want. I want you for the night¡ªthe whole night.¡±


    Her shoulders heaved, and her breath came hard. Was she considering it? He thought of having her in his bed, being able to kiss her as much as he desired, wherever he desired, holding her and touching her and making her his. The thought filled him with excitement.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be gentle,¡± he added softly.


    She twisted her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    Irritation flashed through him as his fantasy dissolved. ¡°You won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Brand¡ª¡±


    ¡°This is what you claim to want. For me to stop what I am doing and settle down with some nice, honest girl who¡¯ll cure me of my wicked ways. And I will do it, if you only grant one small concession. Yet you won¡¯t even consider¡ª¡±


    ¡°Brand, this is not¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know you won¡¯t consider it! You never consider it! You never think! I have the power to take anything from you I damn well please. I could have had you that first night and I can have you right now, right here across the table. But I am offering¡ª¡±


    Seri stood up. ¡°I will not stay and listen¡ª¡±


    ¡°You will stay!¡± he said, rising. ¡°And you will listen! I am offering my life to you and all I ask is this one night, but you will not do it. You will not even grant me the courtesy of¡ª¡±


    ¡°Good night, Brand!¡± She turned.


    ¡°Dinner is not over!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving!¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not!¡±


    He grabbed her using magic cords and spun her around to face him. She cried out as the force whipped her toward him.


    ¡°Brand,¡± she said, struggling. ¡°What are you doing? Let me go!¡±


    But he didn¡¯t want to let her go. He¡¯d never wanted to let her go. He knew he had to. He knew he¡¯d have to unbind her let her leave him. But he just¡­ he didn¡¯t want to. He just wanted to touch her¡­ and hold her¡­ and kiss her¡­ and keep her. He wanted her so badly. Brand clenched his hand into a fist, tightening the reigns of the magic.


    Seri flinched. She wriggled. She squirmed. But the ropes held her fast.


    ¡°Brand, please,¡± Seri said. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    Her eyes were very wide, and her breathing was hitched. She stared at him, like she no longer knew him. It made him think he no longer knew himself. He¡¯d never done this before, never bound her like this¡ªnot since the first time. He should stop. He wasn¡¯t like this.


    Or maybe he was. Maybe he was exactly like this.


    He stepped toward her.


    Seri¡¯s eyes changed. The terror seemed to drain, replaced by a strange, glazed-over acceptance. She turned away.


    ¡°Nel, Gretchen, Alonsa,¡± she said. ¡°Get out. Now.¡±


    He heard them leave. He didn¡¯t care. He was watching Seri. She still wasn¡¯t facing him, but he looked at her neck, at her chest, rising and falling. He noticed she had scales on her throat, but he didn¡¯t care. How many nights had he spent yearning to kiss her neck, up and down along her throat. How many times had he held himself back.


    ¡°Brand, please, don¡¯t do this,¡± Seri said. ¡°It will not be what you want. I cannot love you¡­ not in the way you desire. I cannot give my body to you. I cannot.¡± Her head drooped. ¡°Please, don¡¯t force me.¡±


    She was afraid of him, really afraid. Brand let his hand uncurl, and the magic faded. Seri grabbed the backing of the chair and clung to it, as if to keep from falling.


    ¡°After all this time,¡± Brand said softly, ¡°do you still think I¡¯m going to rape you?¡±


    ¡°You threatened to just now.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°You said you could have me here across the table.¡±


    Brand swallowed. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it.¡±


    ¡°You grabbed me.¡±


    ¡°I was angry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re always angry, Brand. You¡¯re always mad at me.¡±


    Brand stepped back.


    Seri took a shaky breath. ¡°I keep waiting for the moment when you snap. It frightens me. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re going to do when the rage finally consumes you. I don¡¯t know the ways in which you¡¯re going to hurt me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you, Seri.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you keep doing it?¡±


    ¡°How have I hurt you?¡± he asked, in a low voice.


    ¡°You are turning me into a dragon. I¡¯m a prisoner. I¡¯m away from the people I love. I¡¯m at the mercy of your whirling moods. How many times do I need to explain this to you? It hurts. Being afraid all the time hurts. You think because you haven¡¯t struck me, you¡¯ve caused me no pain? Your cruelty hurts me, Brand. Can you really not see that?¡±


    His insides burned. He felt sick. He realized he was no longer looking at her¡ªthat he couldn¡¯t look at her¡ªthat he was staring grease spot on the table, an ugly smear of grime, as if this was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.


    ¡°You can leave,¡± he said, glancing up at her.


    Seri shook her head. That brief gesture of disappointment cut him, but that was nothing. Her words had slashed him open. He was bleeding and numb. Reeling, and yet unable to move.


    Seri left the room. She slammed the door behind her.


    Had he really hurt her?


    You weren¡¯t supposed to hurt the people you loved.


    All this time, Brand had been moping about how Seri couldn¡¯t love him¡­ but had he ever really loved her? He felt love, sure, but when it came to the action¡­ when it came to actually doing something for her¡­ did he ever really try? All she had ever wanted was for him to be¡­ not even good, but decent. For him to not kidnap girls, not curse them, not blackmail them. And he just¡­ he kept doing it. He knew it was hurting her, and he kept doing it.


    Why?


    Because he wanted to?


    Was he really so terrible that at the center of his being, wanted to hurt innocent girls? That he wanted to hurt Seri, the one he loved, or claimed to love, most of all?


    No.


    He didn¡¯t want to hurt her.


    Then why did he do it?


    Because¡­


    Because if he stopped¡­ if he broke the curse on Seri¡­ he¡¯d have to admit that¡­ that he was wrong. That he had spent years of his life doing the wrong thing, over and over and over again. That he¡­ that he actually cared about right and wrong.


    And if he did that¡­


    Brand felt like he was straddling chasm, and this chasm was choice. His choice.  He could stop hurting Seri. He could break the spell and send her home. Not because she yielded to him or gave him something, but because he wanted to, because he was tired of hurting her.


    Or he could continue this charade. Because¡­ because¡­ God, what was it that he even wanted? What drove him to keep doing this? Did he want to be this way? No. He was just afraid to stop. Afraid of what would happen if he tried to change. Afraid he wasn¡¯t better than a thief, a kidnapper¡­ a rapist. Afraid that if he let go of this, he¡¯d have¡­ nothing.


    When he thought of it this way, it was no longer a battle of conflicting desires. It was a battle of love and of fear¡­ and as much as he wanted to choose love, he was afraid. He was so afraid. When had that happened? When did the fear surround him? Was he always afraid, he just couldn¡¯t see it through his anger? Was that why he always angry? To mask the fear.


    A simple choice, one he¡¯d made a hundred times. Let her go. Or keep her.


    And tonight, he was frozen.


    Because it wasn¡¯t simple. Right now, it felt like the entire course of his life hinged on this choice: What sort of man was he going to be?

 Chapter 52

    How was anyone supposed to make that kind of decision? To decide who he was, right now? He couldn¡¯t. It was impossible. It was clawing at his throat. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He couldn¡¯t choose, he couldn¡¯t do it. The walls were closing in on. Everything was pressing down upon him. He had to get out of here.


    Brand sprinted out of the dining room, summoned his carpet, and flew high into the air.


    The wind blew, and the chill sank into his bones, and for a second, he felt free¡ªbut only for a second. Because the pressure was inside him, and he knew it. And as he saw the turrets of the towers, the shingles glowing in the moonlight, he thought of the girls inside. For the first time, he really thought how it must feel for them to be taken from their home and family, to be trapped, with no escape, except to please the person who¡¯d imprisoned them.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine.


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    Brand thought of Seri, in the tower below him. He thought of her laying on her bed and crying, out of fear, out of frustration, out of homesickness and pain. He didn¡¯t want her to be in pain. He didn¡¯t want to hurt her.


    He hardly knew he raised his hand. He hardly knew he lifted the curse, until it was done. He broke all four curses at once. He was not going to let any of the girls suffer any more.


    It was so strange. This one thing that Seri had argued with him to do for months and months, and when he finally did, it felt like the simplest thing in the world. Like it was nothing. All this pain and fear, and he could have just waved his hand and ended it.


    But when Brand thought about sending the girls home¡­ he couldn¡¯t do that.


    He should do that. A part of him wanted to. But if he were to face them¡­ to look into the eyes and really see what he had done to them¡­


    It was too much. He couldn¡¯t.


    So he left.


    Because he couldn¡¯t be near them, and he couldn¡¯t lose them, and everything in his being was telling him to escape, escape, escape. So he took off. In the dead of night, with no sleep, hardly any food, and the feeling that he just needed to go, go, go.


    He flew home.

 Chapter 53

    Home was the place Brand was born, the place he grew up, the place he returned to year after year: the Secret Tower of Abnoba. It was a small, hidden tower in the Forest of Abnoba, which was better known as the Black Woods. Only one of his bloodline could see the tower. Besides invisibility, there were other spells that protected it, nasty spells of pain and fog and illusion. For this reason, villagers kept away.


    Three days after fleeing Seri, Brand dropped inside the small, walled courtyard. The door opened to him, and the deep thrum of ancient magic sparked. The magic here was greater than in the Tower of Lehe, where he kept the girls he kidnapped. Every stone of the ivy-covered Tower of Abnoba was soaked in spells.


    But magic was all it held, for the tower was under siege by the elements, and since no one but Brand could find the invisible tower, no one but Brand could maintain it. Brand lugged off sacks of grain and dried sausage from his rug¡ªsupplies he¡¯d bought along the way. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep, but there were no sheets on the bed, no fuel for the hearth, no water.


    Brand threw the food inside the pantry. He¡¯d left some food behind from his last visit: salt, oil, vinegar, and honey. No fruit or vegetables. Normally, he came in the fall and was able to harvest apples off the trees and pull wild onions and parsnips from the ground. It was too late in the season for that. Brand grabbed a bucket and trudged to the well.


    The well sat in the middle of the garden¡ªor what was left of it. The trees were dormant, their rotted fruit and fallen leaves hidden beneath a layer of frost. The grounds were overrun with brittle, dying weeds. A few squash made it above ground, but they were starting to decompose. Brand stepped on them, as he walked toward the well.


    Growing up, Brand and his mother had tried keeping a garden to supplement their food, but neither had any idea what they were doing. Any vegetables that grew was more of a happy accident than a product of their efforts. If Seri were here¡­.


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    Brand shut his eyes. If Seri were here, then yes, there might be neatly pruned rose bushes, evergreen herbs, and neat paths along plots of winter vegetables¡ªbut what was the use of thinking like that? She wasn¡¯t here. She was never going to be here. He had to stop imagining what it would be like to have her in his life.


    It was a dream he couldn¡¯t have. Because he ruined it.


    He ruined everything.


    Brand took his frustrations out on the weeds. He tore away the brambles surrounding the well, until he could access the water. He dipped in his bucket, drew it up again, walked back to the kitchen, and sat down at the table to drink.


    He¡¯d made it home.


    Now what?


    The question loomed in his mind. It had been a long hard flight to get here in the cold final stages of the autumn season. Brand had hardly slept, hardly ate or drank, and had used most of his magic on the trip. Exhaustion had put him into a stupor¡ªbut it only took the tiniest thought to strum on every nerve on his body, until he was fairly vibrating with anxiety.


    Why had he flown all the way here and just left the girls on their own? He had emergency measures in place, so they¡¯d have all the food and supplies they needed¡ªbut still, he¡¯d left them. He never came to the secret tower while he still had girls living in Lehe. What the hell was he thinking?


    It was too late to go back, though. The magic stores within him were depleted, and if he pushed himself to fly for even a few hours more, he¡¯d most likely black out, fall off his carpet and die. Which, to be fair, would cause the Tower of Lehe¡¯s defenses to drop and allow the girls to go home. So maybe that was the best plan. To die¡ªeverything would be solved.


    Brand leaned on the table with his hands.


    He did not know he had fallen asleep, until he woke suddenly. It was pitch dark. Even after all these years, the dark frightened him. Brand stood up and groped around the room for candles, before realizing he had no way of lighting them. There was no fire from the hearth, no flint, no striker. And he had never, not once, mastered combustion magic. Brand was surrounded by darkness¡ªand there was no way of finding a light.

 Chapter 54

    When Brand was a child, seven or eight, he had climbed to the top of the Tower of Abnoba, to try to fix a leak in the roof. He¡¯d slipped and fallen. But he didn¡¯t die. The protection spells around the tower had caught him. He fell slowly through the air and hit the ground softly. At the time, he had laughed and made a game of it. But the thought had occurred to him¡ªeven death was no escape, for death was not permitted. He was stuck here.


    Brand sat on the roof of the tower, craning his head toward the sun. Of course, back in those days, his grandfather, Lord Arnaud, was master of the tower. The magic obeyed him, and him alone. Now that his grandfather was dead, Brand had control of the spells. He could always dismiss them, if he wanted. Then he¡¯d be free to leap off the tower and die.


    He wondered what it would look like: his body, twisted and broken, cloaked in black on the pure white snow. Should he aim for the top of the well and have the pointed roof snap his spine, his arms falling one way, his legs the other? Or should he leap head-first into the garden, so that his head cracked and split, like the gourd he¡¯d stepped on last night?


    Actually, that might look interesting.


    Brand jumped from the tower and floated down, as he had when he was a child. Then he climbed the stairs to his mother¡¯s old bedroom, which Brand had turned into his art studio. Paintings and drawings were stacked atop the bed, covered in sheets, to keep the dust away. Brand dug through the dresser, where he kept his supplies of brushes and pigments. He had prepared several canvases last winter. He grabbed one and set to work sketching out the scene of his death on the canvas.


    He could always create an illusion, but his illusions would die with him. He wanted this picture to remain. He set up his easel and mixed paints on his palette. Make he could give the finished work to Seri. ¡°You defeated the monster,¡± he¡¯d say to her, and then he¡¯d jump out the window.


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    Or better yet, he could give her the choice. ¡°Shall I make this picture a reality?¡± he¡¯d ask. Maybe her face would harden, and her eyes would go cold. ¡°Yes,¡± she¡¯d say. ¡°Go die.¡± Then again, her eyes might become misty and her mouth twist in horror. ¡°Please, don¡¯t die. I want you to live.¡±


    These thoughts danced in Brand¡¯s head, spurring him on. He had to know. He had to see it for himself. Brand painted in a frenzy, day and night, until the picture was done.


    He gazed upon his death.


    It was beautiful. Even though his lifeless, broken body was the centerpiece, Brand was particularly fond of the garden. He¡¯d taken great pains to study the vines and the grasses. He thought Seri might appreciate the detail.


    Not that she was ever going to see it.


    What the hell was he thinking? He couldn¡¯t show this to her. What kind of sick, twisted person thrust a picture of his bloody corpse into the hands of the girl he loved and then asked her if he should commit suicide? Him, apparently. He was so stupid. Brand ripped the still-drying canvas off the easel and threw it on the ground.


    What the hell was he even doing here? He needed to go back, apologize, and take the girls home. That was the right thing to do, the bare minimum of decency. Instead, he¡¯d run off to the middle of nowhere, to hide like the coward he was.


    Go back. Say sorry. Let them go.


    Brand¡¯s body went rigid. His feet were rooted the floor, his soul shriveling.


    God, he was such a coward.


    He¡¯d always been a coward. A weak, useless, indulgent, over-emotional coward. He hated himself. He wanted to go down to the kitchen, grab a knife, and stab himself, over and over again. Until blood spurted from his heart and ran in rivers down his white shirt. Until pools of red seeped onto the dusty blue rug, near the chair where his mother once sat.


    Brand went to dresser and took out another canvas.

 Chapter 55

    Six portraits of his death he painted, and after that, Brand could paint no more. His passion was spent, his mind ached, and his body shook from weeks of irregular food and sleep. So Brand pushed all the furniture in the living room to the side and stood the paintings against them, in a circle. Then he laid on the floor and stared at all the ways he could die.


    He hated himself.


    Not all of himself. Just the evil part, the cowardly part, the part that made stupid, wrong, evil decisions, over and over again. Brand wanted to cut that part out of him with a rusty knife. To rip it bleeding from his flesh and kill it as gruesomely as any of these images on the canvas.


    ¡°How did this happen?¡± Brand asked to no one in particular.


    He was pretty sure he was a good kid. Mischievous at times. Once or twice, he¡¯d stole his mother¡¯s favorite brush and hid it and laughed when she told him that she could have sworn she¡¯d left her brush right there. Other times, he got angry. Actually, he got angry quite a bit. But he had never wanted to hurt anyone.


    ¡°What happened to me?¡± Brand said, again, and as he did, he traced his fingers into dust on the wooden floorboards, making little doodles.


    He used to do that as a child. They¡¯d never had much paper growing up, and what little they had was strictly doled out for writing practice. So his mother would take apart empty barrels and crates, and they would dip their fingers in soot and draw pictures on the planks. Brand had illustrated an entire epic story on those wooden boards.


    When his grandfather found out, he¡¯d been furious.


    ¡°You¡¯re teaching him to be soft, Elsie,¡± Lord Arnaud griped to Brand¡¯s mother. ¡°I am trying to raise a warrior who will conquer our enemies and restore our line, and you are wasting his time with this womanly art.¡±


    Lord Arnaud had burned the wooden boards.


    Brand remembered seething as he watched the planks burn, not because his grandfather had destroyed his pictures, but because he had burned the boards in the middle of the summer. He had wasted precious fuel. The reality was that the boards would have been burned, anyway. His grandfather never brought enough supplies, certainly not enough wood for the hearth. In the coldest days of winter, Brand and his mother burned whatever they could in order to keep warm.


    ¡°We need more supplies,¡± his mother would say, every time his grandfather came to check in on them.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how the boy performs,¡± Lord Arnaud said.


    And then his grandfather would sit and grill Brand on his magic, and however well Brand did, that determined how much food, fuel, and clothing they got. And most of the time, Brand did poorly. Lord Arnaud would gnash his teeth and yell at his mother. ¡°What have you been doing here, Elsie? Staring at the water and drawing your reflection?¡±


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    Inevitably, Lord Arnaud tried to teach Brand magic himself, but he was rough and impatient. ¡°Are you an idiot?¡± he would say. At some point¡ªBrand didn¡¯t remember when¡ªhe started acting slower and dumber than he was, just to frustrate his grandfather and get him to leave.


    Brand stared at the dusty window, where a few rays of sunlight trickled through the glass panes. He¡¯d often thought that his grandfather might be the reason his life had turned out so poorly. It was so tempting to blame everything on Lord Arnaud. But Brand couldn¡¯t do that.


    Because that would be admitting that his grandfather controlled him.


    And Lord Arnaud had never controlled him.


    When Brand was about 10, his grandfather had decided it was time to impress upon Brand the great tragedy that had happened to their family. Lord Arnaud had put some effort into this presentation, for he had summoned illusions to illustrate this travesty. Most likely, his intention was to bombard Brand¡¯s senses with the horror of blood and screams and death. But all Brand saw was the most poorly-rendered illusions he¡¯d ever laid eyes on. The people were a parody of bug eyes and elephantine noses, with huge heads and tiny hands. Brand had burst out laughing.


    At the sound of his laughter, Lord Arnaud dropped the illusion, bound Brand in magic string, and threw him against the wall. ¡°You dare laugh at your family¡¯s slaughter!¡± he cried. And he tied Brand¡¯s tongue and stifled his voice. While Brand struggled to breathe, his grandfather shook him and screamed, spittle flying from his grandfather¡¯s lips and hitting Brand in the face.


    Brand ought to have feared his grandfather, then. Maybe he did, but any fear he felt was drowned in hatred. Brand hated his grandfather. And in that moment, he decided was never, ever going to do anything Lord Arnaud wanted. Especially not vengeance. His grandfather could yell all he wanted, but he couldn¡¯t make Brand do anything. Brand was never going to be like his grandfather.


    Ever!


    Brand rubbed his forehead. He had never wanted to be like his grandfather. Half the time, he did the opposite, just to spite him. His grandfather was stingy; Brand spent money like it was going out of fashion. His grandfather hated art; Brand filled the towers with paintings. His grandfather was cautious and strategic; Brand did stupid, reckless things, just to get reactions out of pretty girls. Brand was nothing like his grandfather.


    Except that he had pursued his grandfather¡¯s plan for vengeance. Almost exactly.


    ¡°They¡¯re all hiding, you know,¡± Lord Arnaud had told Brand¡¯s mother, once at breakfast. (A breakfast Brand remembered, for Lord Arnaud had brought apple pastries, and Brand, stuffing his face, was feeling slightly more charitable toward his grandfather that day.) ¡°They fear me, as well they should, for Willmarr has gotten weak. I mean to root out the entire line and see it destroyed. But I may have to use the dragon curse to do so.¡±


    ¡°I thought the curse was meant as an enforcement,¡± his mother said.


    ¡°It is a warning, against treachery.¡±


    ¡°But surely, no one will let you close enough to enact it.¡±


    ¡°He will use it.¡± Lord Arnaud looked at Brand. ¡°He¡¯s a male descendent of Alemannus¡¯s line. No one knows his face. It will only take one girl; and then we shall be able to find the entire family.¡±


    ¡°Will he be able to learn that curse?¡± Elsie asked. ¡°It¡¯s one of the harder ones.¡±


    ¡°I will teach it to him myself, once he comes of age,¡± Lord Arnaud said. ¡°The boy will learn, even if I need to drill it into his head with an iron rod.¡±


    The funny thing was, his grandfather hadn¡¯t taught Brand the dragon curse. He died first, and with his death, the barriers around the tower dissolved, and Brand and his mother were free to leave.


    It should have ended there. Brand had no desire for vengeance. He had no desire to learn some obscure curse.


    But his mother had insisted.

 Chapter 56

    Brand moved the six portraits of his mangled corpse onto the stairs. He placed one on each step, so he could view the gallery of his death. Maybe he should hang one up. But not right now. First, he wanted to get the living room back in order.


    Brand pushed the furniture back in place¡ªwith his own hands, not with magic. Sometimes it felt good to do things on his own. The furniture was still thickly draped with sheets, to keep away the dust. Had it been the old furniture¡ªthe ones from his childhood¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t have cared how dirty they got. But most of those old tables and chairs had been fed to the hearth long ago. This current furniture was new.


    He''d bought it for his mother.


    Brand began to take off the cloth to reveal the chairs and sofas in pinks and greens, round tables, delicate porcelain vases. He knew what his mother liked, because she had shown him, casting her illusions over the ugly dark chairs and pointed tables. Brand had recreated her vision exactly, except for the fresh flowers in the vases. He could never get them to grow here, not pretty ones, anyway. So he filled the vases with the illusions of flowers.


    In a way, this entire room was an illusion.


    Because by the time Brand got around to furnishing it, his mother had already passed away. And so the room was really just for him, to pretend that he fulfilled his promise to her.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to take care of you, Mother,¡± he¡¯d told her. ¡°I promise, I¡¯ll give you whatever you need: good food, pretty dresses, a room decorated just how you always wanted. You don¡¯t need to work, anymore. So, stop it! Please.¡±


    Brand remembered telling her this. He remembered it very clearly.


    He was 17, then, and his lover, Lady Genoveve, had finally given him the commission he¡¯d wanted: a grand, large painting to hang in her hall. Not only did this mean money, it also meant a chance to get his name out there, to build his reputation. More commissions would follow. This was just the beginning.


    Brand told his mother all this¡ªyet she continued painting flowers on trinkets, work she¡¯d been doing for the last 4 years.


    ¡°I have to finish these by tomorrow,¡± she said.


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t!¡± Brand said, with an exasperated sigh. ¡°Haven¡¯t you been listening? I have a commission¡ªmy own commission. I¡¯m on my way to making my place in this world.¡±


    At last, his mother stopped painting and looked up. ¡°Brand, this is not your place. You are the son of a lord.¡±


    ¡°And you are the daughter of one,¡± he replied, angrily. ¡°And yet, here you are, working like a peasant¡ª¡±


    ¡°Brand¡ª¡±


    ¡°I accepted it when I was young, when I was a boy. I had no choice, then,¡± he said. ¡°But I¡¯m not going to watch you scrabble like this, anymore. You are going to stop working and enjoy yourself. All right?¡±


    He knew his words had sounded angry, but he wasn¡¯t angry. He was scared.


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    His whole life, he and his mother had never had enough, and what little they had, she gave to him. At the tower, she gave him the best food, the warmest clothes, the extra blankets. Outside of the tower, all she did was work to pay for his apprenticeship, his art supplies, clothes he needed to impress patrons. It was starting to take its toll on her.


    Gray streaks had appeared in his mother¡¯s brown hair, even though she was not old¡ªonly thirty-four. She¡¯d always been thin, but lately, she had started to look unnaturally gaunt. He¡¯d seen the color leave her cheeks, and the sparkle leave her eye. And last winter had been bad. For three weeks, she¡¯d gotten so sick, she could hardly leave bed, burning with a fever, shivering, hardly eating.


    Brand didn¡¯t want to lose her. She was all he had.


    His mother smiled. ¡°You have a good heart, my son. You deserve better than this. I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t give it to you.¡±


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t say that,¡± Brand said. ¡°You¡¯ve given me everything. I¡¯m happy. Now let me take care of you. Please, Mother.¡±


    Instead, she went back to painting. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about how to fix this situation.¡±


    ¡°What situation?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You should be a lord, Brand.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a lord!¡± he said, growing frustrated. ¡°I want to paint and play with illusions and be happy and take care of the people I love.¡±


    ¡°And you will,¡± she said firmly. ¡°But first you must learn the dragon curse.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Brand said. ¡°Why on earth would I do that? It¡¯s cruel and it¡¯s complicated and it¡¯s completely useless. Anyone can break it¡ªanyone who knows how to use magic¡ªunless they explicitly agree to be cursed. And who would do that?¡±


    ¡°There is one who won¡¯t be able to break it,¡± she said. ¡°Valdemarr¡¯s heir.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Brand crossed his arms.


    ¡°You must find her.¡±


    ¡°I already told you, I will have no part in Grandfather¡¯s schemes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to carry out his vengeance,¡± his mother said. ¡°You¡¯re going to find Valdemarr¡¯s heir¡ªso you can marry her.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Brand said, and it came out as a laugh. ¡°You want me to curse some strange girl and then marry her? And not just any girl, a girl whose family murdered mine?¡±


    ¡°You must put aside your hatred¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hate them, Mother. They hate me.¡±


    ¡°They hated your grandfather,¡± his mother said. ¡°You are not him. You are kind and loving and good. They will see that.¡±


    ¡°Will they?¡±


    ¡°The girl will see it. She will fall in love with you.¡±


    ¡°Just like that?¡± Brand asked darkly.


    ¡°Oh, how could she not?¡± his mother said. ¡°The girl will love you, Brand, and once you win her over, the rest of the family will follow. Willmarr was fruitful. The girl will have a large family with strong magic. You will have allies. And then you can go back to Satyros and resurrect the Castle.¡±


    ¡°Mother¡ª¡±


    ¡°You will have everything you need, Brand. Everything you deserve.¡±


    ¡°Mother, listen to yourself,¡± Brand said, rubbing his forehead. ¡°You want me to follow Grandfather¡¯s plan and go around cursing random girls until the curse finally sticks to one of them? How would I even go about doing that? And what happens if the curse sticks to a girl that I hate? Then I¡¯m stuck with her. And she won¡¯t be happy with me. She¡¯ll hate me. Her family already wants me dead. They¡¯ll probably have me murdered not two days after the wedding.¡±


    ¡°You must be brave,¡± his mother said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about being brave,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get stuck with some¡­ some stranger. And what would I even get out of it? If I wanted, I could resurrect Castle Satyros on my own. I don¡¯t need Valdemarr¡¯s heir to do that.¡±


    ¡°You need help, Brand.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need help,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°You need a family,¡± his mother said. ¡°You need people who love you, who care for your well-being. I won¡¯t be around forever. I don¡¯t want you to be alone. Please, Brand, at least learn the curse. For my sake, if not for yours.¡±


    Brand would have argued more, but the words ¡®won¡¯t be around forever¡¯ stopped him cold. He remembered his mother shivering in bed last winter, her face so hollow and skeletal, and him kneeling beside the bed and praying¡ªand he never prayed¡ªthat would get better. He couldn¡¯t forget her brush with death, how close he had been to losing her.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll learn the curse. But in exchange, I want you stop all this work and let me take care of you.¡± He raked his hand through his hair. ¡°Also, stop talking like you¡¯re dying. You¡¯re not going to die. You¡¯re going to live a long and happy life, Mother. I promise.¡±

 Chapter 57

    Brand lifted the sheet off the final painting, the one that hung in the corner of the living room. It was a portrait of himself, from around the time he¡¯d turned eighteen. His mother had painted it. It was the last painting she¡¯d ever done¡ªthe only paintings of hers that he owned. He loved it, because it was his mother¡¯s work. And he he hated it, because it reminded him of the year everything had gone to hell.


    The year Brand turned eighteen, his mother had died. Shortly afterward, his lover, Lady Genoveve, decided he was boring and replaced him with another man. Brand had gone crazy after that, tearing up her room, stealing her palace¡¯s magic, destroying his own artwork, the piece she¡¯d commission, the piece he¡¯d painted for her. That was the first time, he¡¯d become aware of this¡­ this pit¡­ this darkness¡­ this nothingness growing inside him.


    Brand took the portrait off the living room wall. If anyone beside his mother had painted it, he would have thrown it away, long ago. Instead, Brand wrapped the canvas back up in the sheet and moved it upstairs to his mother¡¯s room, with the other paintings he didn¡¯t know what to do with.


    This left a gap in the living room wall. Perhaps, he should fill it with one of his more recent works, one of the paintings of his mutilated corpse. All the better to remind himself what a piece of shit he was, who didn¡¯t deserve any of his mother¡¯s sacrifices. Everything she¡¯d done for him, and he''d thrown it away.


    Brand examined the six portraits. Which one to choose? He decided that the one of him dying from stab wounds was probably the best. Not only was it violent and painful, it somehow ended up looking the most realistic. He¡¯d seen the image so clearly in his mind, how his body would look chopped and hacked.


    Probably because he¡¯d seen it before.


    After his grandfather had died, the Tower of Abnoba¡¯s defenses had dropped, and Brand and his mother were free to go. But free to go where? Brand was thirteen at the time, and all he knew of the outside world was the small town on the edge of the Abnoba Forest that his grandfather took him to once or twice, so that Brand wouldn¡¯t come off like a complete moron in front of other people. His mother was not much better, having also spent most of her life locked in different towers.


    Brand had wanted to visit his father¡¯s castle, but that wasn¡¯t an option. Brand knew very little about his father, other than his name was also Brandeis and that he had been some minor lord who had stolen his mother¡¯s heart. The two had run off together. That didn¡¯t sit well with his grandfather, Lord Arnaud, who had other plans for his daughter. Brand had no idea what his grandfather had done, since his mother never spoke of it. He just knew that his father was not around, that the castle had been reforged, and that no one there would be happy to see them.


    But his mother remembered another castle which had always been an ally of their family: the Castle of Vogt-Tyrol. Her best friend lived there. So Brand flew them to Castle Vogt-Tyrol on an old rug, and the master of the castle, Lord Kuhlbert let them in. Lord Kuhlbert gave his mother a new dress and told Brand that he looked strong and healthy. Brand thought they were finally safe. But his mother seemed uneasy.


    One day, Lord Kuhlbert invited them on a hunt. They were halfway, through the woods, when some errand called him back. But he insisted Brand and Elsie go on without him. At this, Brand¡¯s mother had gone pale and quiet. She pulled Brand to the side and told him to be still. Then she cast the most perfect illusion Brand ever saw: an illusion of him and his mother. These illusions rejoined the hunting party. That¡¯s when they were attacked.


    Lord Kuhlbert¡¯s men drew their swords and hacked the illusions to pieces. Brand watched. He watched the illusion of his mother scream as the chief guard sliced through the illusion of her son¡¯s throat. How she¡¯d done it, he still didn¡¯t know, for she had produced sound as well as images. At least the blood was real¡ªhis mother had put the projection over one of their horses. The guard slayed that animal and later buried its remains in a shallow grave, thinking it was them.


    Brand witnessed everything. But the guards did not see him or his mother standing by the tree, for she had cast an illusion of plants over them, to hide them. And she did not stop casting it until the guards had left.


    After that, she had blacked out, drained from using her magic. Brand had taken his rug with him on the hunt; it was still attached to the dead horse. He dug it up, rolled the bloody carpet out, used magic to gently set his mother on the rug, and flown them away.


    They never spoke of the incident. In fact, for a long time, Brand had put it away in his mind. He knew it had happened, but it didn¡¯t seem to matter.


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    Brand hung the portrait of his dead body over the gap in the wall and stared at it. In the painting, his face was knocked to the side, with sprays of blood on his cheek and pooling under his chin. His throat was slashed, his insides gutted, a few of his mangled intestines were mashed on the ground.


    Funny, how easily he¡¯d forgotten the first time someone had tried to kill him.


    Funny, how suddenly it had all rushed back.


    After his mother¡¯s death, the memory of Lord Kuhlbert¡¯s betrayal resurfaced, and this time, it was no longer a thing that had happened long ago, but the incident that had ruined Brand¡¯s life. Because if Lord Kuhlbert hadn¡¯t betrayed them, if he had helped Brand and his mother like an ally should, then Brand¡¯s mother would have never had to work so hard. She wouldn¡¯t have ruined her health and gotten sick. She wouldn¡¯t have died.


    It was Lord Kuhlbert¡¯s fault his mother died! He¡¯d murdered Brand¡¯s mother! Not with knives and treachery¡ªthough, he¡¯d certainly tried¡ªbut slowly, through neglect. Brand had witnessed this betrayal, and for five years, he¡¯d done nothing. He¡¯d been a boy then, but now he was a man. Lord Kuhlbert would pay! His mother would be avenged!


    But Lord Kuhlbert was not some petty sorcerer. Castle Vogt-Tyrol was one of the strongest in the land, fortified with ancient spells. Besides, he had five legitimate sons, eighteen grandsons, and eleven bastards¡ªall sorcerers¡ªas well as a small standing army. Brand was only one man, and he didn¡¯t know a lot of spells.


    Then he heard of Lord Kuhlbert¡¯s granddaughter, Ailis.


    Lord Kuhlbert was so very proud of Ailis, for she was beautiful, and magic ran strong in her veins, and he had just matched her to one of the Emperor¡¯s sons. This alliance was destined to shoot Castle Vogt-Tyrol to highest echelons of power. And yet, despite all this, Lord Kuhlbert still allowed Ailis to ride past the walls of the castle from time to time, with nothing more than an escort of armed men and one single sorcerer brother.


    Brand saw his chance. And he seized it.


    Brand put a hand to his forehead. A nasty pulsing shot through his brain, as if brought on by the memory of the past. A wave of nausea hit him; his stomach sloshed, and he felt a feverish wave break out across his skin. He didn¡¯t want to think about what he had done. And yet, he had to.


    How did I become like this?


    That was how. Ailis was how.


    Brand had entered her outing, disguised as a minstrel. He had kidnapped her. He had taken her to the tower. And for a moment, when he had her bound to the bed, he had actually considered raping her. It would certainly ruin Lord Kuhlbert¡¯s precious alliance. But then Ailis started to cry, and the thought fled his mind. Brand wasn¡¯t going to lower himself like that. There were other ways.


    Instead, he had cursed her. Ailis wasn¡¯t Valdemarr¡¯s heir, Brand knew that. Any one of her sorcerer brothers could undo the curse. But Ailis didn¡¯t know that. She was scared, and that was good. Brand wanted her to be scared. He wanted her to be docile and obedient. Ailis was the only one who could get him through the Castle Vogt-Tyrol¡¯s defenses. Brand couldn¡¯t let her betray him, like her grandfather had betrayed him.


    Brand pinched his forehead. The nausea was worse now, bile forcing its way up his throat. He remembered his original line of reasoning¡ªthat was very clear. What he could not for the life of him remember was how he had treated Ailis. The memories were darkened by emotions, like a painting smeared over with a layer of red.


    It was bad, though. Oh, he knew it was bad. Brand had been angry and anxious, and he had taken out his frustrations on her. But he¡¯d also felt sad and lonely and scared of this emptiness growing inside him. Ailis was pretty and young, and she was around, she was always around. He hated her and yelled at her and told her all the terrible things her family had done and all the ways in which he would take revenge. And he wanted her, he wanted to touch her and hold her and have her make the nothingness go away.


    What had he done to her? Oh, God, what had he done?


    The bile in Brand¡¯s throat burned. His skin burned. Everything burned.


    He couldn¡¯t even remember. Not clearly. Fragments of memories flashed in his head and dissolved into a murky haze. He¡¯d been testing her, seeing what he could get her to do, seeing how obedient she was. She was very obedient. She¡¯d been with him for three months. Her grace period was up. She was scared.


    So she let him do whatever he wanted to her.


    She¡¯d let him rape her.


    Brand fell to the floor and threw up.


    He threw up all over the rug, and he didn¡¯t care. The guilt was like a snake, wriggling in his stomach, and he wanted it to get out. He heaved and spat and cursed. Memories flashed. Her eyes, dull and distant. The way he¡¯d kissed her, and she didn¡¯t respond. Slashed paintings, and the shrill scream of her voice. That last glimpse of her dress, waving in the wind, as he left her.


    Brand kept heaving, even when there was nothing left for him to throw up, not even water. But that didn¡¯t make the guilt go away. He knocked his fists against his head and screamed and banged his forehead against the vomit-stained rug, but nothing made the guilt go away.


    Because he couldn¡¯t make it go away.


    Because he¡¯d done it.


    And not just once.


    Over and over again.


    Brand collapsed and lay on the ground and let the guilt wrack through him.


    Eventually, the fire that lit his skin simmered down; the pain in his gut eased. But his head continued to drum.


    What was he going to do?


    Shaking, Brand picked himself off the floor. He went to the kitchen for a water and a basin. He washed his face. He scrubbed the vomit from the rug. He thought of Seri and the girls at the tower. He knew what he had to do.


    Go back. Say sorry. Take them home.


    Do the right thing, for once in his life. Not even a good thing. A correction to his current mistake. It wouldn¡¯t make up for what he did to Ailis or the other girls, but it was something.


    Go back. Say sorry. Take them home.


    Why couldn¡¯t he do it?

 Chapter 58

    Brand deserved to be alone. He deserved to freeze in the tower. He deserved to throw up his meals. He deserved to toss and turn at night. He deserved the nightmares. He deserved every gruesome punishment he¡¯d painted. He deserved death.


    But he didn¡¯t want to die.


    He realized that as he woke. Brand lay in his old room, which was also the library, tucked into his bed from childhood which just barely big enough to fit him. His right foot dangled off the frame, and the winter air chilled his skin. Brand tucked his foot back into the blankets and took a deep breath. He felt the air expand his lungs, the scent of old books filling his nose. Beams of sunlight streamed in through the window and caught specks of dust floating in the air.


    The world was still beautiful, and he wanted to be a part of it.


    He wasn¡¯t going to kill himself.


    So he might as well pull himself together.


    Brand dragged himself out of bed. He dressed, walked to the kitchen, started the fire, and made himself porridge for breakfast. He didn¡¯t deserve breakfast, but he still had to eat. He needed his strength, if he was to go back.


    Go back. Say sorry. Take them home.


    His throat tightened.


    If he went back, he¡¯d have to explain why. And he didn¡¯t know why.


    It had been about vengeance¡ªuntil it wasn¡¯t. After Ailis, Brand made a list of every person who and ever wronged him. He sought out their daughters, he stole their treasures, he made them pay. But at some point, he¡¯d run out of people. And once that anger left him, what remained was worse¡ªthat huge, gaping pit, that void, that thing that sucked all meaning from life. It was that nothingness he could not face. He still couldn¡¯t.


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    Brand spooned some of his lumpy porridge into a bowl and sat down at the table. Vengeance had kept him going, so he¡¯d picked up the only thing he had left: his grandfather¡¯s cause. He swore to find the ones who had destroyed his family. Not because he really cared about his dead relatives¡ªcertainly not because he cared about justice¡ªbut because he had nothing else to live for.


    But now it wasn¡¯t enough. Brand swallowed a lump of porridge. He had glutted himself on anger and pain for so long, and now he had no taste for it. He was done. He had to move on.


    He had to send the girls home. That was the last clear idea in his mind. But after that¡­ honestly, he had no idea. He was driftless, aimless, with no purpose, no future. Maybe if Brand had done what his mother had wanted from the start¡­ but then he had never found the girl, anyway. So many girls, he had cursed, but each time the spell had broken. He had felt it dissipate¡­


    Brand stopped eating. He hadn¡¯t felt it dissipate¡ªnot this last time.


    Normally, when he broke the curse on a girl, he stood by her and checked to make sure it had lifted. But he hadn¡¯t been anywhere near Seri or Nel or Gretchen. In theory, it shouldn¡¯t matter. He had been close enough for it to work. It should have broken.


    Unless one of the girls was Valdemarr¡¯s heir.


    But that was¡­ that was so unlikely.


    Brand took another scoop of porridge and tried to swallow it down.


    It was unlikely. He¡¯d been through a couple dozen girls, some promising ones, too, and none of them had turned out to be Valdemarr¡¯s heir. Why should this group be different? Besides, Gretchen and Nel and Alonsa were just random girls he kidnapped. Two were from Houses¡ªtheir families didn¡¯t even have magic. Valdemarr¡¯s heir would need to be from a Castle. They wouldn¡¯t be able to hide in a House. The line was too powerful. You couldn¡¯t disguise¡­


    ¡­that much¡­


    ¡­magic¡­


    Brand dropped his spoon.


    His disguise¡ªthe illusion he wore the first time he met Seri¡ªshe¡¯d seen through it. Because she had magic¡ªstrong magic, too. And she was the last one¡ªthe last girl he had chosen specifically because she might be Valdemarr¡¯s heir. He¡¯d put the curse inside her, and she¡¯d screamed. None of the other girls had screamed like that. At the time, he thought she was being overdramatic, but that wasn¡¯t Seri.


    And she¡¯d been with him the longest. She¡¯d been transforming before he left¡­


    Oh, God.


    Brand pushed aside his breakfast.


    It could not be Seri. It could not. It was just¡­ it was impossible¡­ ridiculous¡­ But if she was Valdemarr¡¯s heir¡­ if the curse hadn¡¯t lifted¡­ and he¡¯d left her alone for¡­ how long?


    Weeks? Almost a month?


    Brand rolled out the rug. He had to get back. He had to make sure.

 Chapter 59

    It was snowing. A soft, gentle snow, but a clumping one. It forced Brand to stop, several times, to remove clumps of snow off the carpet. That added hours to his already long trip. And then, after that, he very nearly missed the village closest to the tower where he kept the girls, for he had never seen it in the winter, never seen the rooftops covered with snow.


    The Tower of Lehe¡¯s turrets were snow-covered, too, and the garden was fallow and white. Brand did not know what to make of the lack of plants. Yes, it was winter, but surely Seri would be able to coax something from the ground¡ªif she were well. If she were not well¡ª


    The fear strummed up again, playing havoc with his feelings. Brand had almost convinced himself that Seri being Valdemarr¡¯s heir¡ªthe one girl, out of everyone¡ªwas impossible. But a glance at the garden sent him into a panic.


    He jumped off the carpet and burst through the door.


    ¡°Seri!¡± he called. ¡°Nel! Gretchen!¡±


    The girls emerged from the other rooms: Nel and Gretchen from the library, Alonsa from the kitchen. They all seemed well and healthy, and when he waved his hand in front of them, he felt no traces of the curse inside them.


    ¡°Brand, you¡¯re back,¡± Nel said. ¡°Where did you go? Why did you leave?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I¡­ I had some thinking to do¡­. Where¡¯s Seri?¡±


    ¡°I think she¡¯s in her room.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to see her,¡± Brand said, racing up the stairs.


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    ¡°Brand, wait,¡± Nel said.


    He stopped, that one simple word freezing him to his core.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been gone a long time,¡± Nel said. ¡°Seri¡¯s changed.¡±


    ¡°Changed?¡± His heart thudded. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°The curse¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Brand whispered. ¡°No, I broke the curse before I left.¡±


    ¡°Not on her.¡±


    ¡°On everyone! It¡­ I¡¯ve got to see her!¡±


    He dashed up the stairs. He yanked the door open with a bang.


    Seri was sitting on a chair, with a blanket over her shoulders, watching the snow fall out the window. She turned to look at him, and Brand stopped dead in his tracks.


    Golden scales crept up and down the side of her head, covering everything but her face. Her hair had fallen out, and her ears were starting to stretch. She had grown wider¡ªnot fat, but as though her bones had thickened¡ªand her body¡¯s shape was starting to distort. But what he noticed most of all¡ªwhat he couldn¡¯t stop staring at¡ªwere her eyes. Once so dark and lovely, they had dimmed to a reptile yellow, with the pupil narrowing to a slit, like the eyes of a cat.


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve returned,¡± Seri said quietly.


    Brand stood there. All month long, he¡¯d tried to figure out what to say, from grand speeches to melodramatic promises of death. They all seemed so stupid now, so inadequate. He found he couldn¡¯t speak at all.


    Seri pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulder. ¡°What brings you back, Brand?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± The word cracked in his throat. ¡°I had to be sure the curse was broken.¡±


    ¡°Broken?¡± she said.


    ¡°I broke it before I left. At least I thought I did¡­ Here, let me try.¡±


    He raised his hand and now he could feel the curse rooted in her, steely and strong. He tried to break it¡­ but it didn¡¯t break. He tried again. And again. Yanking on the tendrils of magic, trying to rip it out like a weed.


    Seri cried out in pain.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Brand said, letting the magic go. ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to hurt you. I was just¡­¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not breaking?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s too late?¡± Seri said. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Brand said. ¡°You¡¯re not stuck. You¡¯re not fully a dragon yet. We can fix this. There¡¯s a way to fix this. All we have to do is¡ª¡±


    ¡°What?¡± she said.


    Brand swallowed. ¡°Seri, there¡¯s something I need to explain.¡±

 Chapter 60

    It had been a while since Seri had been inside Brand¡¯s private room. In his absence, the door had shut and locked. Not that she¡¯d had any desire to go inside. Her stomach clenched. She wanted as little to do with him as possible.


    Brand had left the room in a messy state. The chess set was knocked over, and broken glass lay on the floor. The room reeked of stale alcohol. Brand apologized and went about tidying up.


    ¡°Would you like a drink?¡± he asked, throwing the glass shards away. ¡°The brandy is gone, but there¡¯s still wine, I think.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you,¡± Seri said, sitting down on a chair.


    She couldn¡¯t drink anything more than water. Wine made her sick, as did any food except for rare, bloody meat. Seri watched Brand pour a glass of wine for himself. His hands shook.


    He looked awful. He was still wearing his cloak, which was now wet from melted snow. Brand was pale, which made the dark rings around his eyes stand out. It seemed he hadn¡¯t been sleeping much. Good. Seri would take satisfaction in whatever misery had been doled out to him, for it was nothing compared to what she¡¯d been through.


    Brand had been gone for a month¡ªright after abducting Alonsa and then grabbing her in the middle of dinner. He¡¯d left and sent no word. For him to just pop back in like this¡ªand then to say he broke the curse¡ªand then to try to break it on her and be unable to do so¡ªSeri felt like a kettle, starting to steam. Her insides, already hot, were boiling, the pressure building. She wanted to scream.


    Seri put a hand across her stomach. ¡°We¡¯re here now, so tell me,¡± she said. ¡°What is this curse you put in me? Why won¡¯t it break?¡±


    ¡°The dragon curse is a magical enforcement,¡± Brand said, sitting down. ¡°It was created by my great-grandfather, Alemannus of Castle Satyros. Him.¡±


    He threw out an illusion. The man was older with white hair, but he had the same dark eyes as Brand.


    ¡°The curse was specifically tailored to¡­ to unmarried women,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°To punish us?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°No, to¡­ to ensure the fulfillment of a magical vow.¡±


    ¡°What vow?¡±


    ¡°Marriage.¡± Brand looked away.


    Seri stood up. ¡°You¡¯ve broken the curse before! With Nel and Gretchen and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, but they didn¡¯t choose it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t choose it, either!¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he said softly.


    Seri was shaking. She felt sick and scared. The word marriage rattled around her head. It felt like¡­ No. Like she couldn¡¯t even consider it. Like a wall had risen and blocked off any kind of feeling. It was an exertion that rang through every fiber of her body.


    No.


    But maybe she was jumping to conclusions. She hadn¡¯t heard the whole story, yet. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself back on the chair. Brand had been watching her, but as soon as she looked at him, he lowered his head.


    ¡°Alemannus¡¯s curse,¡± Seri said, in what she hoped was a neutral voice. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    ¡°Alemannus was a powerful sorcerer. He had ambitions to see his bloodline grow more powerful still. Alemannus fathered many sons. He hoped to find wives for them with strong magic, to increase the potency of the line. But when it came time to negotiate marriage, he found that many of the other castles were¡­ reluctant.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Castle Satyros was considered¡­ peculiar. It was a small castle, not as a rich as some, but it was strong with magic. Alemannus was powerful, but ruthless, too, and some said that his spells went against the laws of nature. There was also a tradition of¡­ of not allowing the wives to leave the grounds of Castle Satyros. The women of my family were taught magic¡ªbrides included. They had to keep it a secret.¡±


    ¡°It sounds horrible,¡± Seri said bluntly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it was,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°But how did the curse get him brides? Did Alemannus just go around cursing women, until¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Brand said. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t have worked. The dragon curse requires the consent of both parties. Like the truth spell. Were Alemannus to curse women without their consent, their fathers could break it with a twist of their hand. Instead, Alemannus went from Castle to Castle, challenging the lords to duels. Those who lost the duel agreed to provide the winner with one of his daughters¡ªwhichever daughter the victor wished. One by one, the lords lost, and they pledged their daughters to Alemannus¡ªand as an enforcement to their vow, they consented to the dragon curse.¡±


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    ¡°An enforcement?¡± Seri said.


    Brand nodded. ¡°If the lord failed to produce the daughter on the day of the wedding, or if she refused to marry Alemannus¡¯s son, the girl would turn into a dragon.¡±


    ¡°They were coerced into marriage,¡± Seri said. ¡°The daughters were trapped, not by their agreement, but by their father¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But why am I¡­ what does this have to do with me?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s a generational curse,¡± Brand explained. ¡°The agreement was that any unmarried daughter or female descendant of the sorcerer¡¯s bloodline could be claimed as a bride.¡±


    ¡°And you think I¡¯m a descendant of one of these sorcerers?¡±


    ¡°Not just any sorcerer. Lord Valdemarr of Castle Elbe-Antona.¡±


    Seri pulled in her arms. ¡°That can¡¯t be right.¡±


    ¡°All the other brides were claimed. But Valdemarr had no daughters. He had one son, a man named Willmarr. Willmarr fathered many daughters. By the time the girls came of age, Alemannus had died and my grandfather, Lord Arnaud, had taken over Castle Satyros. He decided to claim one of Willmarr¡¯s daughters as a bride.¡±


    ¡°Your grandfather¡­ is he the one whose face you sometimes wear when your angry?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Brand sighed. ¡°Aside from my mother, he¡¯s the only family I knew. Sometimes I wish I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°So your grandfather wanted to marry my¡ª?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Brand said quickly. ¡°No, my grandfather was already married. The bride was meant for my uncle Arnwolf. My grandfather and my uncle were supposed to visit Castle Elbe-Antonia together, so that they could select the most suitable girl. My grandfather, however, was detained, so my grandmother, Luise, rode with my uncle instead. But as soon as they arrived, Willmarr betrayed them. He murdered my uncle and my grandmother. At the same time, Willmarr¡¯s allies attacked Castle Satyros and slaughtered those inside its walls.¡±


    Seri swallowed. ¡°But not you?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t born yet,¡± Brand said. ¡°My mother, Elsie, had just eloped with my father. My father was¡­ I think he was the second son of a minor castle. Not the husband my grandfather intended for her. So Lord Arnaud went to find her and bring her back. That¡¯s why he was detained. If she hadn¡¯t run off, my grandfather would have been in Castle Elbe-Antonia and my mother would have been in Castle Satyros, and both would have perished in the slaughter. Willmarr would have succeeded in breaking my Castle. Unfortunately for him, we survived.¡±


    Seri tried to wrap her head around all this. She failed. It was terrible, so terrible, it didn¡¯t sound real. Of course, she¡¯s heard of Castles waging war one another, of treachery and murder, but those things happened long ago, far away, to someone else.


    ¡°My family couldn¡¯t have been involved in any this,¡± Seri said. ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone named Willmarr. I¡¯ve never heard of Castle Elbe-Antonia.¡±


    ¡°No, you wouldn¡¯t have,¡± Brand said. ¡°Once Willmarr realized my grandfather was still alive, he and his family changed their names and went into hiding. My grandfather was livid. He tore apart their abandoned castle and vowed to destroy everyone of Elbe-Antonia bloodline. Some of my distant relatives survived, and they helped my grandfather wage his war of vengeance. I understand it was quite horrific. I didn¡¯t see any of it. My grandfather hid my mother¡ªwho was pregnant with me at the time¡ªin the Secret Tower of Abnoba. I was to be his secret weapon, if all else failed.¡±


    Brand spoke these words flatly. Seri crossed her arms.


    ¡°You think my family isn¡¯t who they say they are?¡± she said. ¡°That they¡¯ve been hiding all these years, lying to everyone¡ªlying to me?¡±


    Her stomach spasmed; she put a hand to it. Seri knew her family; she trusted her family. If she didn¡¯t have them, what did she have?


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± she said quietly. ¡°This has to be a mistake.¡±


    ¡°Valdemarr¡¯s heir was never claimed,¡± Brand said. ¡°My uncle didn¡¯t have the chance to awaken the dragon curse, so it remained, entangled in the bloodline of Elbe-Antona. Only Valdemarr¡¯s heir could¡ª¡±


    ¡°Even if I was Valdemarr¡¯s heir, that doesn¡¯t mean your grandfather was right!¡± Seri yelled. ¡°Your grandfather wasn¡¯t there, he didn¡¯t see what happened! I know my family! They¡¯re not murderers! They wouldn¡¯t just murder a whole family and pretend it never happened. They¡ª¡±


    Seri pressed her hands into her face. Brand was wrong. He had to be wrong.


    Her father didn¡¯t even have magic. He played chess with her and grumbled whenever he lost. Her mother had been kind and patient. She¡¯d taught Seri all the names of the flowers and showed her how to garden. They weren¡¯t killers. Seri thought about her grandparents, her aunts, her uncles. They were just ordinary lords and ladies¡ªthey were farmers!¡ªthey hardly even involved themselves in politics. This wasn¡¯t them!


    Brand had not said a word. He had taken to fidgeting with one of the chess pieces, rolling it in his fingers. He looked very tired.


    ¡°You said you wanted revenge?¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°Against the people who killed your family,¡± she said slowly. ¡°And you think¡­ it¡¯s me. You want revenge against me?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    ¡°Against my family then?¡±


    ¡°Seri¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do to me, Brand?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to do anything. I don¡¯t want to hurt you,¡± he said, in an anguished voice. ¡°I was planning to¡­ I was going to do what you wanted. To break the curse and send you home.¡±


    ¡°But you can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°In the case of Valdemarr¡¯s heir,¡± Brand said, carefully, ¡°the only way to break the curse is to¡­ to fulfill the original agreement.¡±


    ¡°You mean,¡± Seri said quietly, ¡°we have to get married.¡±


    Brand nodded.


    Something in her snapped.


    ¡°No,¡± she said.


    Brand winced. ¡°I know it¡¯s not an ideal solution¡­¡±


    ¡°I am not marrying you!¡± Seri stood up. ¡°After everything you¡¯ve done to me, everything you put me through, do you think I would ever consent to marry you? To share your bed and bear your children and manage your household and stand by your side and smile as you brought ruin upon my head? I won¡¯t do it!¡± She curled her scaly hands into fists. ¡°Choose another bride.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°The curse is already awakened in you.¡±


    ¡°Then find another way to break this curse!¡± Seri said. ¡°Or kill me! Because I will not marry you! I swear, I will not do it!¡±

 Chapter 61

    Seri stormed out, and Brand sat alone in his private room, feeling stunned. Not that he was surprised that Seri had refused him. Really, how else was this conversation going to end? Did he really think Seri was going to marry him? Seri, who took six months to take his arm? Seri, who refused to kiss him?


    Mostly, he just didn¡¯t know what to do. Brand sank further into his chair. He wanted another drink, but the thought of standing up exhausted him. Honestly, right now, the best thing for him to do was probably to go to sleep. Sleep and hope that when he woke up, the whole thing would be a dream. Brand went to the sofa and plopped down on it.


    He woke to the sound of knocking. It was light out, morning. Brand lifted his head. It throbbed with pain. Rubbing his eye, he noticed Nel standing in the doorway of his private room.


    ¡°The door was open,¡± she said.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Brand said, or tried to say. It came out more like a grunt.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost ten,¡± Nel said. ¡°Cook is about to take breakfast away.¡±


    ¡°Tell her to wait,¡± Brand said. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a minute.¡±


    He went to his room, changed his clothes, and washed his face. When all of that was done, he managed to look¡­ terrible. He still looked terrible. Which was fine. He went down to the dining room and found that the food was still there. Nel was waiting for him. She looked older in her winter clothes. Her hair was plaited in two braids, one down the side of each ear.


    ¡°Have you seen Seri, this morning?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°I brought her breakfast,¡± Nel said.


    ¡°Is she all right? Did she tell you what happened?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t tell me anything. She wouldn¡¯t speak. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling¡ªlike Gretchen used to do.¡±


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    Brand¡¯s intestines twisted. Seri¡­ like Gretchen? Had he broken her spirit that much? Brand rubbed his forehead. The throbbing had gotten worse.


    ¡°Brand, what is going on?¡± Nel said. ¡°Last time you were here, you and Seri were arguing. You grabbed her¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, God, I did.¡± Brand put a hand over his eyes.


    ¡°She said you didn¡¯t do anything to her afterwards. But then you disappeared. We were confused¡­ and frightened.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said in a whisper.


    ¡°I just want to understand,¡± Nel said.


    Brand took a deep breath.


    Bit by bit, the story came out. Nel sat patiently and listened, without comment or judgement. Much as Brand loved Seri, sometimes it was nice to talk to Nel and not end up in an argument. His feelings calmed, and he felt better¡­ even though nothing had really been solved.


    ¡°What am I going to do?¡± Brand said. ¡°It was hard enough when all I wanted was a kiss or a trinket¡­ but to get her to marry me? How do I convince her of that?¡±


    Nel was quiet for a long time.


    ¡°Maybe you aren¡¯t the right person to convince her,¡± she said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Most suitors talk to a girl¡¯s father when they are ready to propose.¡±


    Brand blinked. ¡°You want me to ask her father¡¯s permission?¡±


    ¡°I think it might have more weight coming from him,¡± Nel said. ¡°And she misses her family.¡±


    This last part made Brand wince, for, having no family of his own, he forgot what it was like to miss them. He looked at Nel.


    ¡°Do you miss your family, Nel?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you back,¡± Brand said. ¡°I¡¯ll take everyone back. I¡¯d meant to, you know.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°But maybe you could delay that, for a few days more. I would feel bad leaving Seri in the state she¡¯s in now. Besides, maybe I can talk to her. Now that I understand what¡¯s going on, I can help her to see that things aren¡¯t as bad as they seem.¡±


    Brand stared at her. ¡°You are an amazing woman, Nel, you know that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just a simple girl.¡±


    ¡°No, I think you are wise beyond your years.¡± Brand took a deep breath. ¡°I think I¡¯ll drop Alonsa off first. On the way back, I can visit Seri¡¯s castle and¡­ and speak with her father. If that goes well, I¡¯ll bring her back home. After she¡¯s had a few days to rest and recover, we can get married¡­ if she agrees.¡± His stomach squished at the thought.


    ¡°Will you be safe at her castle?¡± Nel said.


    ¡°I should,¡± Brand said. ¡°I have my own amulets and protection spells. And they¡¯d be foolish to attack me. If I die, Seri won¡¯t change back.¡±


    A seed of doubt grew in his mind. He wondered, for a second, if Seri¡¯s family hated him badly enough to call it a fair trade. If they would, in fact, sacrifice their daughter to see him dead. He put the thought aside. He was going to have to risk it. As his mother once said, he needed to be brave.

 Chapter 62

    ¡°Brand¡¯s gone again?¡± Seri said.


    She didn¡¯t know why the news plucked at her heart, but it did. She had not seen Brand in the last two days. She had not wanted to see him. But somehow, knowing he¡¯d left her still hurt.


    ¡°He won¡¯t be gone long this time,¡± Nel said. ¡°He¡¯s taking Alonsa back home.¡±


    ¡°He is?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You got through to him, Seri. He¡¯s finally doing the right thing.¡±


    Seri did not know what to make of the news. Part of her didn¡¯t believe it. Not that she¡¯d accuse Nel of lying, she just¡­ didn¡¯t believe it. Brand had yelled at her, humiliated her, tried to blackmail her into sleeping with him, grabbed her, very nearly raped her in front of everyone¡­ and now, suddenly, he had morals.


    ¡°Brand never liked Alonsa,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s probably just returning her, like he said he would.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not just her. He¡¯s taking back me and Gretchen¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s hardly¡ª¡±


    ¡°And you,¡± Nel said.


    Seri looked at her.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to take you home,¡± Nel said.


    Seri¡¯s heart twisted. Going home. It had been so long since she thought of it, it almost hurt. Hope made her heart stretch, but her heart was such a broken, cracked thing, she was not sure it had the strength to do so.


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    ¡°Brand said that?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Nel said. ¡°He told me his side of the story, and I don¡¯t think he was lying. I think he really meant to break the curse before he left. It¡¯s just that, with you, it didn¡¯t work¡­¡±


    And this brought up everything else that had been fermenting in her belly, all the bile and rage. It squeezed her throat and pressed against her head.


    ¡°Nel, I can¡¯t marry him,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I know, this wasn¡¯t what you had in mind¡­¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do it!¡±


    ¡°Is Brand so terrible as that?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Seri cried.


    Nel was quiet.


    Seri felt a twinge of guilt. Nel¡¯s fianc¨¦ was even worse than Brand¡ªto the point where Brand looked like a saint. To sit and rage over him must seem the height of self-pity.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I hate him,¡± Seri said. ¡°But¡­ to be trapped with him¡­ to bind my life to his¡­ to swear, before God, that I will love and obey him and be loyal to him, when he¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s the one who¡­ who took me¡­ who turned me into this!¡±


    She broke down.


    The whole time she was here, all she had wanted to do was escape. To make it home with her soul intact. This ordeal had been a test, and if she could only pass it, then she could go back home and have her dreams and life and future¡ªeverything she had put on hold. And to not have that¡ªto have it, instead, ripped away from her¡ª


    ¡°I just wanted to marry a good man,¡± Seri said. ¡°He didn¡¯t have to be young or handsome or rich. I just wanted someone who was kind. Dutiful. Who would treat me well and be faithful to me. Was that so much to ask?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not.¡± Pause. ¡°But Brand is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Brand is not that,¡± Seri said. ¡°He will never be that.¡±


    ¡°I know he is not what you imagined.¡±


    ¡°He is not what I want. I don¡¯t want him!¡±


    And there it was. That one little word.


    All those times, Brand had mocked her morals, had called her unfeeling, had pushed and pushed her to admit to some forbidden desire¡ªwell, congratulations. He¡¯d broken her, and right now, Seri no longer cared about duty or goodness or what was best for anyone else beside her.


    She wanted.


    But what she wanted was not him.

 Chapter 63

    Brand couldn¡¯t remember the last time he stood in front of a castle and asked for permission to enter. It was intimidating, even if Seri¡¯s castle wasn¡¯t particularly impressive. The walls were crumbling, and the gate was wide open. Only one guard had been on duty when Brand flew up. Brand could have zoomed right on through, while the guard was still calling the alert. Instead, Brand had stopped, gotten off his carpet, and waited until a good-sized knot of armed men finally came to address him.


    ¡°Greetings, sorcerer,¡± said the oldest of the guard, a man who looked to be in his forties and stood about a foot taller than Brand. ¡°This is Castle Staghome, the domain of Lord Ekhart. Please, state your name and business.¡±


    ¡°I am Brandeis of¡­ of Castle Satyros,¡± he replied. ¡°I am a suitor for Lord Ekhard¡¯s daughter.¡± Brand paused, realizing this was actually true. ¡°I wish to ask for her hand in marriage.¡±


    He had made an effort to look the part, dressing in his finest and bringing, on his carpet, a chest filled with gold and treasures. He hoped that the gifts would quell some of Lord Ekhard¡¯s rage. If that didn¡¯t work, Brand also had a pendant that brimmed with magic, and two other amulets besides, which were charmed to keep him from harm.


    The head guard looked at Brand with sympathy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say, but you have come all this way for nothing. Lord Ekhard¡¯s daughter is dead.¡±


    ¡°Dead?¡± Brand said, before realizing that Seri had at least one deceased sister. ¡°I am asking after the hand of Lady Serihilde.¡±


    ¡°Lady Serihilde drowned in the pond last spring.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Brand said in disbelief. ¡°No. She is¡ªI must speak to the Lord of the Castle. It is urgent.¡±


    ¡°Lord Ekhard is not receiving guests.¡±


    ¡°Not receiving guests?¡± Brand said. ¡°Is he absent?¡±


    The question hung unpleasantly in the air.


    Brand surveyed the castle¡¯s magical defenses. They had never been particularly strong, but now he couldn¡¯t even sense them. Brand threw a small pulse of magic into the wall, and the castle didn¡¯t react. It was dormant. The ancient protection spells would not work if there was no one of blood within its walls.


    ¡°Who is in charge of Castle Staghome?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°Castle Staghome is not receiving guests,¡± the head guard repeated. ¡°If you are in need of accommodations, might I suggest¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving,¡± Brand said. ¡°I need to speak to whoever is in charge. I need to know where Lord Ekhard is.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry, Sir, but we cannot permit¡ª¡±


    ¡°This is important,¡± Brand said. ¡°Seri¡¯s life depends on it.¡±


    ¡°Lady Serihilde¡ª¡±


    ¡°She is not dead!¡± Brand burst out. ¡°She¡¯s been at my tower for the last seven months. And if any of you cared for her in the slightest¡ª¡±


    Something whizzed by his face. Brand blinked as a crossbow bolt came to a halt, inches from his eyes. If his magic from his amulet hadn¡¯t stopped it, he¡¯d be dead.


    Brand took a long, shaky breath. This was Seri¡¯s home, and he really did not want to hurt her people. But rage, his old friend, was starting to course in his veins.


    ¡°I will say it again,¡± he said slowly, ¡°if you care about Seri¡ª¡±


    ¡°You took her, didn¡¯t you!¡± cried another guard. ¡°You bastard.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Brand admitted. ¡°I flew right over the walls and abducted her. It was easy.¡± He picked up the crossbow bolt, still hovering in the air, and tossed it to the ground. ¡°And that was when the Lord of the Castle was home. Imagine what I could do now that he is absent.¡±


    The head guard gave a yell, and the men all raised their spears.


    Brand drew upon the magic of his pendant and bound them in invisible strings. Another guard got off a shot with his crossbow, but the bolt froze harmlessly in the air. Brand flicked it aside. He pushed the guards away, summoned his carpet, and walked for the gate. Someone on the inside was trying to close it. Brand held up his hand, and the gate froze. Brand walked through.


    A haphazard line of men with scythes and flails met him on the other side. Brand tossed their weapons from their hands and pushed the men to the side. He walked past them. A few men on horseback rode toward him. They ground to a halt, as they looked upon the damage.


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    ¡°Who is in charge?¡± Brand yelled. ¡°Let him come and face me.¡±


    One of the men on horseback tentatively rode forward. He was a tall, thin man with slumped shoulders and weary eyes. His fine clothes did not seem to fit him, and he wore no pendant that Brand could see. Instead, he carried a sword.


    ¡°My name is Berne, Steward of Castle Staghome,¡± the man said. ¡°I am in charge.¡±


    ¡°A steward?¡± Brand asked.


    A steward was in charge of managing the castle grounds, but most of them didn¡¯t have magic. This one certainly didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Who is protecting the Castle?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°I am charged with its defense,¡± Berne replied.


    ¡°You?¡±


    Brand was dumbstruck. He hadn¡¯t exactly expected Seri¡¯s famous uncle to be guarding the castle, but Brand had thought to find some sorcerer governing the land. Without a sorcerer present, this castle had no protection from¡ª


    From men like him. Brand¡¯s stomach soured.


    ¡°Where is Lord Ekhard?¡± he asked softly.


    ¡°He has gone across the sea,¡± Berne replied. ¡°He hopes to find a new bride for himself.¡±


    ¡°A bride?¡± Brand echoed. ¡°His daughter was kidnapped!¡±


    ¡°Lady Serihilde was declared dead¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªand with her death, Lord Ekhard severed his last connection to her mother¡¯s kin. He has no further wish for an alliance with House Elmfield.¡±


    Brand stared. Seri¡¯s father had just¡­ abandoned her? His daughter? He¡¯d just wiped his hands clean of his old family and went to get a new one.


    And what about his land, Seri¡¯s home? Brand looked around, and for the first time, he saw how deserted it was. A few men stood in front of their homes, holding scythes and hoes. Farming equipment¡ªnot even proper weaponry. Lord Ekhard must have taken his entourage¡ªand his magic¡ªand his wealth¡ªand left the land stripped bare. He must have known the castle would be easy pickings to anyone with magic¡ªand he just didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°He abandoned you,¡± Brand said. ¡°He left you for dead¡ªjust like he did with his daughter.¡±


    Berne was silent.


    Brand couldn¡¯t take Seri home to this. It was a mess. A sad, horrible mess. Even so, he needed to find someone who could speak to Seri. Lord Ekhard was an ocean away, and even if he were not, Brand would have strangled the man before he let him talk to Seri. But there must be someone around.


    ¡°Do you know where Seri¡¯s famous, powerful uncle is?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°Lord Englebert came to her funeral,¡± Berne replied. ¡°We have not seen him since.¡±


    ¡°Her funeral?¡± Brand said bitterly. ¡°Has Seri any relatives here?¡±


    The steward was quiet.


    ¡°Has she any friends?¡± Brand asked, in frustration. ¡°Is there anyone here who cares whether she lives or dies?¡±


    ¡°I do!¡± called out a loud female voice.


    Brand saw a woman striding toward him. Her cape was askew, and her hood had fallen down at her ears, as though she had put it on hastily. She had dark hair and dark features. Brand didn¡¯t realize she was older, until she came to a halt, and he got a better look at her. There were lines etched deep in her mouth, and her dark eyes were hard.


    ¡°I am Gertrude of House Elmfield,¡± the woman said. ¡°I am Seri¡¯s grandmother.¡±


    ¡°House Elmfield?¡± Brand tilted his head. ¡°You have a powerful granddaughter to have come from a House.¡±


    ¡°Do not play games,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°You know who I am, or suspect.¡±


    ¡°Tell me anyway,¡± Brand said.


    Gertrude straightened her shoulders. ¡°Once I was known as Hildegard, the wife of Willmarr and the mistress of Castle Elbe-Antona.¡±


    ¡°You know who I am?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Gertrude¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°I know why you have kidnapped my granddaughter. If it is vengeance you seek, I beg you, take it out on me, for I am the perpetrator of all your ills.¡±


    Brand thought of vengeance¡ªand felt nothing. He was more concerned with how Seri felt about this particular relative. Had she ever mentioned a grandmother? Brand tried to think. Once, perhaps¡ªearly on.


    ¡°Are you the grandmother who came to stay with Seri, after her mother died?¡± Brand asked. ¡°The one who knew how to make tinctures and medicines?¡±


    Gertrude blinked. ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°And do you love your granddaughter?¡±


    The look in Gertrude¡¯s eyes steeled. ¡°I would do anything for her.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Brand pointed to the carpet. ¡°Get on.¡±


    Gertrude strode onto the carpet and sat down, barely flinching as it rose.


    Brand turned to Berne. ¡°Steward Berne, I am sorry for the commotion I caused. I had brought gifts for Lord Ekhard, but since he is not here, I offer them to you and to the people of this land.¡± He shoved the chest of gold and treasure off the rug and dropped it near Berne¡¯s feet. ¡°If you see Seri¡¯s uncle, please let him know she still lives. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be relieved.¡±


    And with that, Brand hopped on the carpet near Seri¡¯s grandmother. He flew the carpet up into the air.


    ¡°Seri lives?¡± Gertrude asked, in a tight voice.


    ¡°She does,¡± he said, shortly.


    ¡°And is she well?¡±


    Brand¡¯s throat tightened.


    ¡°What have you done to her?¡± Gertrude cried. ¡°Have you¡ª?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t raped her,¡± Brand said darkly. ¡°I haven¡¯t touched her. Seri is¡ªshe would be well, but for the dragon curse.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t married her?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°What do you want? Her dowry?¡±


    ¡°A dowry?¡± Brand repeated with disdain. ¡°You think I want her father¡¯s money?¡±


    ¡°Magic, then? Land? Allies?¡±


    ¡°I am not the one impeding this marriage. She¡¯s the one who won¡¯t marry me.¡±


    Gertrude smiled.


    Brand gritted his teeth. ¡°Your job is to persuade her. That¡¯s why I brought you. I assume you¡¯re with me on this, that you don¡¯t want her to turn her into a mindless, savage beast¡ªone obedient to me, I might add.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°But if I do speak to my granddaughter, it must be alone.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Brand said.


    He steered the carpet through the clouds.


    Brand thought about bringing Gertrude to his tower, but he did not want her to know where he lived. Gertrude, like all women, was untrained in magic (he hoped), but she had a shrewd, sharp way about her. She was dangerous. She¡¯d admitted to conspiring to kill his family; she was probably plotting to kill him now. Brand wasn¡¯t letting her into his home. He needed to find somewhere neutral to keep her.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Gertrude asked.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Brand said.

 Chapter 64

    Seri sat in the library, trying to read her favorite botany book. The book was in Greek, which was difficult enough. But that wasn¡¯t what distracted her today. Looking over her old notes, Seri noticed that Brand had offered his own translations, adding in words or sentences that she didn¡¯t know. And when she turned the page, Seri saw that he had inked in the black-and-white illustration of the poppy, making the petals a vibrant red.


    Seri stared at the page. What was she supposed to make of Brand? Of the whole situation? The curse¡­ she wanted to believe that he had made it up, that this was a ruse to trick her into marrying him. But she knew he wasn¡¯t lying. Brand had made it a point to tell her in the private room, where the truth spell was still in effect. Besides, he¡­ he didn¡¯t really lie. That was one thing she liked about him.


    He had his good points.


    But marriage was¡­


    Marrying him was¡­


    Seri closed the book.


    She couldn¡¯t even read without his presence looming over her, and she was in too much pain to garden. She sat where she was and stared at the cover. She stared for a long time.


    Footsteps skittered over the floor. Suddenly, the door flew open.


    ¡°Seri!¡± Nel called, in an excited rush. ¡°Brand¡¯s back.¡±


    Seri¡¯s heart jolted. ¡°He¡¯s back?¡±


    ¡°And the gate is open,¡± Nel said.


    ¡°There¡¯s a gate?¡± Seri said.


    ¡°And a carriage. And horses. You have to see them, Seri!¡±


    Seri put on her veil and cloak. She stepped outside, to the spot near the rose garden, where Nel and Gretchen had gathered.


    Ordinarily, the tower was surrounded by a thick rock wall. For the whole time Seri had lived here, she had never seen the slightest gap in the barrier. Brand flew over the wall; Seri assumed that was the only way in or out.


    Apparently not. A massive section of the wall had simply fallen over, like a drawbridge, the stones sinking into the ground to create a short road. On the other side of that wall/road, stood Brand in front of a large, covered carriage, driven by a team of horses.


    ¡°Hello,¡± Brand said. ¡°Are you ready to leave?¡±


    ¡°In a carriage?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s rather cold for flying.¡±


    ¡°Can we pet the horses?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    With a squeal of delight, Nel ran through the gate, right up to the horses. They snorted, and their breath came out foggy. Nel put her hand on the flank of the lead brown mare.


    Gretchen walked out, too, tilting her head curiously. Seri followed. But as her boot hit the dirt road, she paused.


    She was outside the tower. After so many months, she was outside. Her feet stood on new land. Large trees surrounded her. And though it didn¡¯t make sense, the air smelled different out here. It seemed crisper, colder, wilder.


    ¡°Seri,¡± Brand said. ¡°Would you like to see the horses?¡±


    The wind blew, and Seri¡¯s veil fluttered. She clamped it down.


    ¡°No,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to scare them.¡±


    Brand¡¯s smile faded.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you girls pack your things?¡± he said. ¡°Then we¡¯ll have a nice meal and be off.¡±


    ¡°Can I bring the lute?¡± Gretchen asked.


    ¡°Yes, Gretchen, it¡¯s yours. Any gifts I bought for you are yours to keep. Any dresses, any jewelry,¡± he added, with a glance at Seri. ¡°They belong to you.¡¯


    Seri thought about the necklace he gave her. She had put it away in the bottom of her drawer. She wondered if she should pack it¡ªand then, wondered if packing was necessary. Was she really going home? Could she really go home?


    Not like this¡­ not in her dragon form. It was not just the tower that had trapped her. The curse had trapped her, too, and it ran deeper than a mere wall.


    Still, she packed the necklace. She didn¡¯t know why. It just seemed like she should. She put it in the bottom of her trunk, where she didn¡¯t have to look at it, or think what it meant.


    They took off in the late afternoon. Brand made arrangements for them to stay the night at an inn. He took Nel and Gretchen into the public dining room for supper, but Seri stayed in her room and kept to herself. They left early the next morning.


    ¡°Where will we be going?¡± Nel asked.


    ¡°Today, we will be going to Marian Abbey,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°Where my aunt lives?¡± Gretchen said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Brand said. ¡°I thought it would be better for you to stay with her for a little while. I did have a chance to speak to her, and she said she¡¯d be happy to have you.¡±


    ¡°Marian Abbey is only a half day¡¯s ride from my home,¡± Seri said. ¡°Will we be going there next?¡±


    A twitch ran through Brand¡¯s expression. ¡°One thing at a time.¡±


    Seri¡¯s chest tightened. ¡°You are taking me home, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you wherever you want to go,¡± he said. ¡°But first I have a¡­ surprise¡­ waiting for you at the abbey.¡±


    ¡°A surprise?¡± she said.


    ¡°A good one,¡± he added quickly.


    Seri frowned.


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    Any other time, she¡¯d have loved to visit a grand, old church. But churches brought to mind weddings, and Seri couldn¡¯t help but feel suspicious. Was that the surprise Brand had in store for her? A wedding? She hadn¡¯t agreed to marry him. Seri curled her hands into fists and noticed the tips of her blackened nails had pierced the fabric of her gloves.


    The carriage passed a small village and a few farms, and then began to a climb up a large hill. The abbey sat on top of the hill, and Seri, looking out her carriage window, smiled to see it. They passed through the cathedral wall, which was filled with blessings¡ªan interesting form of magical protection. Marian Abbey contained a church, a monastery, and a convent. Gretchen¡¯s aunt lived there, as a nun.


    Gretchen¡¯s aunt stood outside, waiting for them. Seri didn¡¯t recognize her, but Gretchen did and gave a cry of delight. As soon as the carriage stopped, Gretchen leapt out of the carriage and ran to her aunt¡ªthe first time, Seri had ever seen her run. Her aunt hugged her, and Gretchen laughed. Seri smiled.


    Brand said, ¡°The abbey has a few rooms set aside for guests and visitors. They¡¯re modest, but they¡¯re clean.¡±


    ¡°Are we staying the night?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Brand said.


    It was barely noon. If they wanted to, they could keep going and be home before nightfall. But Seri didn¡¯t mind staying at the abbey a bit longer. She could say goodbye to Gretchen and explore the church. There was also the matter of Brand¡¯s surprise, whatever that was.


    Brand went to check on the rooms, while Seri walked around the stone walls. She noticed a little graveyard and read the headstones. One bore the name of Marlis¡ªher mother¡¯s name. It was not her mother¡¯s grave, obviously¡ªthat was back at Seri¡¯s Castle¡ªbut it reminded Seri that it had been over half a year since she¡¯d last visited her mother.


    ¡°Seri,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°Yes?¡± she said, looking over her shoulder


    ¡°Your surprise is in the chapel. Why don¡¯t you go in and see? I¡¯ll be waiting outside.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not coming inside?¡± Seri asked.


    Brand shook his head.


    That was odd. Brand was usually so theatrical about presenting gifts. Brand escorted Seri to the chapel door¡ªand here, he abruptly stopped. Seri didn¡¯t know what to think, so she peeked inside. She saw a woman in the pews. The woman stood.


    ¡°Seri?¡±


    Seri knew her voice.


    ¡°Grandma,¡± she said.


    And suddenly the space between them seemed like no space at all. Seri ran up to her grandma and hugged her and sobbed.


    ¡°Oh, my Seri, my poor, sweet granddaughter, what has he done to you?¡±


    Such words just made Seri cry harder, until the tears soaked her gauzy veil. She sniffed and tried to move her hand under her veil, to wipe her eyes. But her grandma lifted her veil and looked upon her face. Her grandma¡¯s face crumpled.


    ¡°Oh, Seri,¡± she said, in a voice of pity.


    Seri hid her face in her hands.


    Her grandma sat down with her in the pew, and for several minutes, Seri just laid on her grandma¡¯s lap and cried. Her grandma stroked her head, and Seri felt like a little kid again, safe and loved. Her grandma was here now. Everything was going to be all right.


    ¡°Seri, listen, we must talk,¡± her grandmother said, after a while. ¡°Dry your eyes, child. There, there.¡±


    She gave Seri a handkerchief. Seri sat up, wiped her eyes, and sniffed a couple times. When her breathing returned to normal, her grandmother patted her on the hand.


    ¡°Seri, my granddaughter, I know this is tough, but I must ask you. The young man who abducted you¡ªdo you know his name?¡±


    ¡°Brand?¡±


    ¡°Do you know who he is?¡±


    ¡°Brandeis Louis Arnwolf of the Secret Tower of Abnoba,¡± she said. ¡°A secret descendent of Castle Satyros, who¡¯s line was slaughtered.¡± Seri¡¯s stomach twisted at this.


    ¡°So he did tell you.¡± Her grandmother sighed. ¡°He talks to you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Often?¡±


    Seri tilted her head. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what he wants?¡±


    After spending so many months asking herself that question, Seri found it unexpectedly funny. She burst into hysterical giggles.


    ¡°What he wants?¡± she wheezed. ¡°Where to begin?¡±


    Her grandmother was sober. ¡°Seri, this is important. Why does he want to marry you?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± she said, dumfounded.


    ¡°Has he asked you for anything in exchange? A life-binding, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a life-binding?¡±


    ¡°It means that if he dies, you die as well.¡±


    This shocked her out of her giggles. ¡°There are spells like that?¡±


    ¡°There are all sorts of nasty spells, my granddaughter. Spells I¡¯d hoped you¡¯d remain innocent of. Bindings are the worst. They are the ones you must choose¡ªand because you have bound your will to them, they cannot be broken. Has he asked you to do any of these?¡±


    ¡°Truth spells,¡± Seri said. ¡°He¡¯s sworn me to secrecy once. But nothing so sinister.¡±


    ¡°Has he asked you to give him anything?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°What was it?¡±


    ¡°Nothing specific,¡± she said. ¡°Except¡­ once, he¡­ he asked me to kiss him¡­¡±


    ¡°A kiss?¡± her grandmother said, baffled. ¡°Is that all?¡±


    Seri nodded. ¡°I think you have the wrong idea of him. It¡¯s not power Brand¡¯s after. He has plenty of that. What he wants is to live the life he desires, according to his whims and fancies.¡±


    ¡°A hedonist?¡± her grandma asked. ¡°Yet he did not seem after his own pleasure when he stormed your castle and demanded an audience with your father.¡±


    ¡°He did that?¡± Seri asked, her stomach sinking.


    ¡°Yes. It was quite alarming.¡±


    ¡°What did my father say?¡±


    Her grandma looked away. ¡°He was absent.¡±


    ¡°Was he out looking for me?¡± Seri asked softly.


    Her grandmother looked down.


    Seri began to cry again, this time softer, yet somehow a far deeper hurt. Her father hadn¡¯t searched for her. No one had searched for her. All this time, she¡¯d put her hope in someone¡­ anyone¡­ coming to find her. But no one looked. No one cared.


    ¡°Seri, I know this is hard. Your father was not the man I hoped him to be. But perhaps it is a blessing. It will be easier for you to accept Brandeis as a husband.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Seri said, looking up. ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to marry him.¡±


    ¡°There is no other way to break the spell.¡±


    ¡°There must be.¡±


    ¡°There is not. It is a binding.¡±


    ¡°Not my binding. I didn¡¯t agree¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a generational binding, Seri. One of the nastiest forms, because it forces the debt onto the sorcerer¡¯s heirs. I would not have this happen to you, to anyone. But the curse has been awoken. You are bound to him, whether you like it or not.¡±


    ¡°Grandma, please¡­¡±


    ¡°Seri, if you do not marry him, you will become a weapon, his weapon, and he will use it against us. My life means little, but you have aunts and uncles, cousins.¡±


    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°He wants revenge, does he not?¡±


    Seri said nothing.


    ¡°You are the only one holding him back. If he loves you or even cares for you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Grandma, I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You can. You are a woman, and this is what women do.¡± Her grandma stroked her hand. ¡°If you find him so unbearable, take comfort that this marriage may be brief. Brandeis has many enemies, and while he is powerful, he is inexperienced. You may soon find yourself a widow.¡±


    Seri yanked her hands away. ¡°That¡¯s comfort?¡±


    ¡°You can remarry¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want Brand dead,¡± Seri said.


    She moved away from her grandmother, horrified. The way her grandma had said it, casually, almost conspiratorially, as if she herself would be the one to orchestrate Brand¡¯s death. Seri had known her grandmother would protect her¡­ but to this extent?


    ¡°Brand said that our family slaughtered his family.¡±


    ¡°We did,¡± her grandmother said bluntly.


    Seri¡¯s throat tightened, and all moisture fled from her mouth.


    ¡°Why?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°Lord Arnaud wanted my daughter,¡± her grandmother said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let him have her.¡±


    ¡°You¡­?¡± Seri said.


    ¡°I saw the man for what he was. I saw how he ruled his tower. I knew what he would do. He would steal my daughter and twist her to his will.¡±


    ¡°So, to prevent it, you killed¡­ everyone? Women? Servants? Children?¡±


    Her grandma shut her eyes. ¡°I did not enjoy that part. But do not doubt me when I say this: Arnaud would have done the same. Sooner or later, that family would have moved on ours. I did what I needed to. I saved my daughters.¡±


    ¡°But not me.¡±


    ¡°Seri¡­.¡±


    ¡°I am cursed, because of your war! I didn¡¯t even know about it. You did this. You put this on me. If you hadn¡¯t killed his family¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then you would never have been born,¡± her grandmother said. ¡°Your mother had the strongest magic. She would have been chosen. The curse would have fallen on her.¡±


    ¡°But what you did in response¡­ it was wrong. Murdering innocent people was wrong.¡±


    ¡°Seri¡­¡±


    ¡°I have tried so hard to do what is good and right¡­ and for what? Now I have to sacrifice my life, my future, to make up for your guilt, your mistakes. It is not fair! I won¡¯t do it! I refuse to do it!¡±


    ¡°You must.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to!¡± Seri cried. ¡°I don¡¯t want to marry him!¡±


    Her grandma sighed.


    ¡°You will marry him, Serihilde,¡± she said. ¡°I am sorry. But there is no other way. You can cry and scream, like a child throwing a fit, but sooner or later, you will see the truth. This is your duty. You must fulfill it.¡±

 Chapter 65

    Brand did not enter the chapel, as per his agreement with Gertrude. Since the chapel was a sanctuary¡ªone enforced by magic¡ªhe had no way to listen in on their conversation. Which, he had to admit, wasn¡¯t a good habit, anyway. He probably shouldn¡¯t spy on his future wife.


    If she actually agreed to marry him. Brand¡¯s stomach knotted, and he paced the outside the chapel. This was taking forever. He thought about distracting himself with art, like Nel was doing. Nel was wandering around the grounds with her sketch pad in hand, drawing whatever took her fancy. Brand didn¡¯t have the mindset for that. He wiped his sweaty palms on his cloak.


    Finally, the door opened. Gertrude came out.


    ¡°Well,¡± Brand said, walking up to her. ¡°Did she¡ª?¡±


    Gertrude sighed. ¡°Seri is stubborn.¡±


    ¡°She refused?¡± Brand¡¯s heart dropped.


    ¡°Right now she is still upset¡ª¡±


    ¡°Upset?¡± Brand yelled. ¡°You were supposed to comfort her!¡±


    ¡°What comfort is there in the truth?¡± Gertrude snapped, facing him. ¡°The truth can only reveal our path, and that path is not always pleasant. Seri knows her duty, and she will do it. But give her some time to mourn what she has lost.¡±


    Brand crossed his arms. He felt sullen and angry, a hardness forming in his chest. He didn¡¯t want Seri to marry him out of duty. It was what he had dreaded. To be chained to a woman who did not want him, who did not love him¡ªit had always seemed the worst kind of trap.


    But it was his own damn fault. He¡¯d used the dragon curse, knowing full well what it could do. This was his punishment.


    Gertrude squinted at him.


    ¡°How are you connected to Lord Arnaud? Are you his bastard son?¡±


    ¡°His grandson,¡± Brand said icily. ¡°I am legitimate.¡±


    ¡°You look like him, when he was younger.¡±


    Brand bristled.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°The resemblance only goes skin-deep. He was a cold, selfish man who cared only for his own power. You, I perceive, are of a different temperament.¡±


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    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°You are still dangerous, though,¡± she said. ¡°And you have made enemies.¡±


    Brand had nothing to say to this. He began to walk away.


    ¡°Do you love my granddaughter?¡± Gertrude asked.


    Brand froze.


    Gertrude stepped beside him. ¡°You must have a reason for wanting to marry her.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t want her to be a dragon,¡± Brand replied.


    ¡°Is that all?¡± Gertrude said.


    It was¡ªand it wasn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t just that Seri was turning into a dragon, it was that he had done this to her. He had hurt her, he had made her suffer¡ªand he had to fix it.


    But he had no intention of baring his inner heart to a woman who, by her own account, had set in motion the death of his family. Brand tried to walk away, but once again Gertrude followed, taking quick steps and matching him stride for stride.


    ¡°Once the curse is lifted, what do you intend to do?¡± Gertrude asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Will you resurrect your castle? Will you use my granddaughter to extend your bloodline?¡±


    ¡°That is not why I¡¯m marrying her,¡± Brand said sharply. ¡°I¡­ I want Seri to be happy. I would have brought her home, if her father hadn¡¯t declared her dead and went halfway around the world to find a new wife.¡±


    ¡°Magic is a rare commodity.¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡± Brand said carelessly. ¡°I seem to find it, quite easily.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what makes you so dangerous. You think your castle was the only one wiped out? There have been dozens of blood feuds. How many lives have been snuffed out, secrets lost, artifacts drained? Everyone wants magic and everyone fears those who have it.¡±


    Brand looked away. ¡°I have no desire to be a part of those games.¡±


    ¡°You think you are not? Kidnapping lord¡¯s daughters from their very castles, stealing their treasures, flaunting your magic. And now you¡¯re marrying my granddaughter¡ªa descendant from Castle Elbe-Antona. Once they know who she is¡ª¡±


    ¡°And why should they know?¡± Brand asked, heatedly. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m going to yell it from the rooftops? My grandfather may have dreamed of restoring his castle, but I am not him. I am not a vessel for fulfilling his desires. If my line dies with me, it dies with me.¡±


    ¡°But what if it does not die?¡± Gertrude said.


    Brand flushed.


    ¡°Can you protect Seri? Can you protect her children?¡±


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t agreed to marry me yet,¡± Brand said. ¡°And even if she does¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know that she would choose to stay. I hurt her. And I am sorry for that, I am so, so sorry.¡± He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. ¡°I just want to fix this mistake. I want her to be human, again.¡±


    Gertrude nodded. ¡°I think you are sincere. I think you care for my granddaughter and mean to provide for her. But you are in over your head.¡±


    ¡°I have been in over my head, since the moment I was born,¡± Brand muttered.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you will need allies,¡± Gertrude said.


    ¡°Allies?¡± Brand echoed.


    ¡°If your enemies come for you, they will come for her. I am willing to help¡ª¡±


    ¡°You?¡± Brand said. ¡°You slaughtered my family.¡±


    ¡°And your grandfather killed my husband and sons,¡± Gertrude replied. ¡°Blood has been spilled on both sides. Would you keep on spilling it? Or would you put an end to it?¡±


    ¡°If I wanted vengeance, I would have killed you,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°So you will accept my offer?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you,¡± Brand said.


    ¡°Nor I you,¡± Gertrude replied. ¡°But I still mean to protect my granddaughter.¡±


    Brand looked away. He wanted to say he could protect Seri himself¡ªbut he didn¡¯t know if that was true. Besides, it probably wasn¡¯t wise to reject help.


    ¡°I will think about your offer,¡± he said. ¡°After the curse is lifted.¡±

 Chapter 66

    Seri could not stay in the chapel and cry forever. Nuns were coming in. They were setting up an altar, as if for a wedding¡ªSeri¡¯s wedding, perhaps. She had not said she would marry Brand, but no doubt her grandmother had already set it in motion. Gertrude did that sometimes¡ªcarry on as if a decision had been made, until the whole thing became so big, there was no escaping from it.


    Seri fled from the chapel. She did not know where to go. Brand had said there were rooms for them, but she had not seen them yet, and they were not her room. Her room was now the turret in Brand¡¯s tower. At least there, she could be herself. Now she didn¡¯t know where to go.


    She finally decided to head for the graveyard¡ªbut along the way, she saw Nel, crouching on the snow and sketching. Seri didn¡¯t want to bother her, but Nel looked up and smiled and waved her over.


    ¡°What was your surprise?¡± Nel asked innocently, and Seri began to cry all over again.


    They sat on the wall, and Seri told her about her grandmother and how she had killed Brand¡¯s family and how her father hadn¡¯t searched for her and how they were setting up an altar for her wedding¡ªthat even though she said no, they carried on like they expected her to marry Brand, they told her that she had to. Nel nodded sympathetically and rubbed her back.


    ¡°My wedding day was like that, too,¡± she said.


    ¡°Until Brand came and ¡®rescued¡¯ you,¡± Seri said, with some irony. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone is going to show up on a carpet and take me away from this.¡±


    ¡°Even if they did, you¡¯d only fight them.¡±


    Seri laughed weakly, in agreement.


    ¡°Nel,¡± she asked, quietly, after a moment. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to you? When you go home, will you still marry that man?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Nel said, after a moment. ¡°Maybe he left. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe I¡¯ll go back and find he¡¯s not as bad as I feared, or maybe he is that bad, but I¡¯ll find a way to live with him. I can¡¯t say, for sure, but it doesn¡¯t seem as bleak now as it once was. There are possibilities now. There is hope.¡±


    Seri thought about this.


    In all honesty, she was never going to have much of a choice in who she would marry. Whatever man her father found for her, that would be her husband. Seri had hoped the man would gentle and loyal and steady and, if she were feeling particularly extravagant, close to her own age and fairly good-looking. Seri knew she had to temper her expectations, but at least she told herself that if the man she was presented with were particularly bad¡ªif he were cruel and hateful and abusive¡ªshe could say no. She could say no, and no one could force her to marry him.


    But now she didn¡¯t have that option.


    ¡°Do you think Brand is a good man?¡± Seri asked Nel, after a moment.


    ¡°Very few men are completely good or bad,¡± Nel said. ¡°Most have some mixture of good and bad inside them.¡±


    ¡°But which weighs stronger in him?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Nel said. ¡°I think he¡¯s still battling it out.¡±


    ¡°He did try to do the right thing,¡± Seri conceded. ¡°And that does mean something. Because if you realize what you¡¯re doing is wrong, and you start to do what is right, that¡¯s repentance, isn¡¯t it? And if he repents, I should forgive him, shouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Seri crossed her arms. ¡°But I can¡¯t forgive him. I¡¯m so angry at him, Nel. And the worst part is, I¡¯m mad because he left. I was in pain, and he left me alone to suffer through it.¡±


    ¡°He came back.¡±


    ¡°He left, and he didn¡¯t tell me. He didn¡¯t even send a note.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Nel said.


    ¡°And I¡¯m supposed to forgive him? I¡¯m supposed to love him? What if I can¡¯t do it? What if I swear before God to love him and honor and obey him, and I just¡­ can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Seri, you already love him,¡± Nel said quietly. ¡°You pray for him. You want him to have a better future, a better life. You¡¯ve tried tirelessly to get him to do the right thing, and to some extent, you¡¯ve succeeded. Right now, I think you¡¯re the person who loves him the most in the world.¡±


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    Seri shut her eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to have to be that person.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°And this isn¡¯t what he wants, either. Brand wants¡­. He wants a kind of love that I can¡¯t give him.¡±


    ¡°You mean, passion?¡± Nel said.


    Seri nodded.


    ¡°When loving someone can be the most frustrating, miserable thing¡­ and you feel like you don¡¯t get anywhere¡­ but you do it anyway¡­ because it¡¯s the only thing that makes life worth living.¡± Nel looked at her. ¡°You don¡¯t think you can do that?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Seri said. ¡°I¡¯m not made that way, Nel. I¡¯m not like him.¡±


    Nel shook her head. ¡°Then love him in whatever way you can, Seri,¡± she said. ¡°No one could ask for more than that.¡±


    Seri thought about it for a moment more.


    She left Nel to her sketching and wandered near the edge of the wall. As Seri strode, she saw Brand coming up the other way. He seemed to be caught in his own thoughts, for he was stomping and sighing and staring at the ground. He did not notice her until he was almost upon her.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°Hello, Seri.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Brand.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to intrude.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said.


    ¡°I can leave, if you want.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m glad I ran into you.¡±


    ¡°You are?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve decided¡­ I will consent to be your wife.¡±


    As soon as the words left her mouth, Seri felt lighter. She¡¯d made her decision. She¡¯d marry him and become human again.


    Or would she? Her stomach tensed. Did Brand still want to marry her? During the course of the transformation, Seri had lost what looks she had. She never had any money or talent or¡­ much of anything, really. And she was stained with the guilt of her family.


    What if Brand no longer wanted her? What would she do then?


    Brand shoved his hands in his pockets and took a long, shaky breath.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said, after a moment. ¡°The wedding will take place tonight.¡±


    ¡°Tonight?¡± Seri asked, taken aback.


    ¡°As soon as we say the vows, you¡¯ll start transforming back. Is there a reason to delay?¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± she said.


    She sat down on the wall. This all seemed to be happening so fast. A week ago, she hadn¡¯t even known where Brand was, and now he¡¯d returned¡­ and she was preparing to pledge her life to him. Seri started to shake. She pulled her arms close to her body.


    Brand looked at her, and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, he took a step forward.


    ¡°We can wait, if you want.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point,¡± she said. ¡°How¡­?¡± She looked at him. ¡°How long will it take me to change back? To be fully human, again?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°Transformations take time. It may be weeks, or even months. This is new for me, too.¡± He sat down near her. ¡°When my mother taught me this curse, she didn¡¯t think¡­ she didn¡¯t think it would go so far. The grace period was so that everything could be prepared for the wedding. The marriage was supposed to happen before the girl ever showed signs of transforming.¡±


    ¡°Obviously, that didn¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°Obviously not,¡± he said, with a short, grim laugh. ¡°I had been looking through the illusion I copied from my mother¡ªthe one that taught me the curse. From what I can tell, once the vows are said, the curse begins to reverse, turning you back into a human. And you will remain human, so long as you stay by my side.¡±


    ¡°Stay by your side?¡±


    ¡°Well, not literally. I don¡¯t think you need to match my every step. But we should probably live in the same building. Maybe have dinners together¡­ play chess at night¡­¡±


    ¡°Like at the tower?¡± Seri said. ¡°Are we going back?¡±


    ¡°It would be easier. My protection spells are in place. But I can take you home, if you wish.¡±


    ¡°You mean to my old castle, where no one bothered to look for me?¡± Seri twisted her fingers. ¡°I¡¯d rather go back to the tower. At least, while I was there, I had no illusions of what that place was.¡±


    ¡°What it was?¡±


    ¡°A cage,¡± she said. ¡°I was always living in a cage. I was always meant to live in a cage. And if I moved from one cage to the next, it would always be at the pleasure of my father or my husband¡­ and I would never have a say in it.¡±


    Brand looked gutted. ¡°Seri, I don¡¯t want to cage you. I never wanted you to feel like a prisoner, even when¡­.¡± He stopped. ¡°We can go wherever you like. We can travel the world, if¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Brand,¡± she said. ¡°I just want to go somewhere safe and familiar and wait for the curse to end.¡±


    Brand was quiet for a long time.


    ¡°Seri,¡± he said, ¡°there is one more thing I should tell you. The curse¡­ the curse doesn¡¯t end with our marriage vows.¡±


    She looked at him. ¡°It doesn¡¯t end?¡±


    ¡°It reverses,¡± he clarified. ¡°You will change back into a human. And after that, so long as you remain beside me, the curse will stay dormant. But it won¡¯t be gone entirely. A¡­a seed of it will remain.¡±


    ¡°So it will never end?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No, it will end,¡± he said firmly. ¡°After¡­¡± He looked away. ¡°After the marriage is consummated.¡±


    She pulled her arms in closer.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my curse,¡± he said. ¡°I didn¡¯t decide¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know what happens in a marriage, Brand,¡± Seri said. ¡°But I¡¯m still part dragon, so maybe¡­ maybe that part of marriage can¡­ can wait¡­.¡±


    ¡°Yes, obviously,¡± Brand said, in a rush, ¡°I¡¯m not going to¡­ I wouldn¡¯t¡­.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°I have never forced you to sleep with me, Seri. Being married doesn¡¯t change that. But,¡± he added, ¡°you should be aware of it. Because if something happens to me¡­.¡±


    He didn¡¯t finish. He didn¡¯t need to. Seri understood that if he left her, the curse would start up again, and if he died, there would be no way of changing her back.


    ¡°So I shouldn¡¯t wait too long,¡± Seri said.


    ¡°You can wait as long as you need to. I¡¯m not an old man. I¡¯m not going to keel over any time soon.¡±


    She laughed.


    He smiled at her. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to pressure you. I just want you to understand the situation.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°I appreciate it.¡±


    ¡°Do you still want to¡­ Are you still willing to marry me tonight?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I am.¡±

 Chapter 67

    For some reason, Brand had forgotten to bring his best clothes. Maybe some part of him had never really believed this wedding would happen. But it was happening, so he made an effort to look presentable. His cloak looked regal, anyway. It was black, with silver embroidery, and a fur collar. He wore his silver medallion over it, which pulsed with magic.


    The bridal party¡ªwhich was made up of Gertrude, Nel, and Gretchen¡ªgathered in front of the church. Brand reflected that, though the party was small, it was sort of¡­ sort of his family. A messed-up family, but as close to one as he had. Everyone was milling around in their cloaks and gloves. Nel and Gretchen had found white snowdrop flowers and were wearing them in their hair.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Seri?¡± Brand asked them.


    ¡°She¡¯s just around the corner,¡± Nel said.


    Brand peeked around the corner of the church, and sure enough, there stood Seri, hiding between the pillars. She had on her cloak and veil, and she was clutching a bouquet of fern leaves and snowdrops.


    ¡°Nervous?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°There¡¯s just so many strangers,¡± she said.


    ¡°Are you scared of strangers?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t used to be.¡±


    He walked over and leaned against the building, beside her.


    ¡°Brand,¡± Seri said, ¡°can you show me your illusions?¡±


    ¡°You want to see them?¡±


    ¡°Just one. The one you made of me.¡±


    Brand put up his hand and showed her the illusion.


    It was Seri in her red velvet dress, sitting at the chess table and slowly chewing on her lip as she considered her next move. Looking at it now, Brand felt a little embarrassed. He hoped she didn¡¯t see the blatant lust he¡¯d felt for her while he¡¯d crafted the illusion. He saw it, reflected in his art.


    Seri studied the illusion. ¡°I was sort of pretty, wasn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°You were beautiful,¡± he said, before quickly adding, ¡°You still are.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No, I¡¯m not. I don¡¯t even look human.¡± She paused. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could do¡­ what you used to do before¡­ how you used to wear illusions¡­?¡±


    ¡°You want me to change my appearance?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I want you to change mine. I want to look like myself on my wedding day.¡±


    Brand felt a pang. It was such a simple thing to want. She shouldn¡¯t even have to want it. She ought to have been radiant on her wedding day, glowing with happiness. He felt he¡¯d taken this from her, too.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± Brand said. ¡°I can put the projection on you, but I can¡¯t make it match your movements. Wearing the illusions like a skin¡­ it only works for the one who casts it.¡±


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    Seri looked down. ¡°It was just a thought.¡±


    They said no more to each other. Presently, Gertrude came up, and let them know that the wedding was about to begin.


    It was a nice ceremony, considering it had been thrown together in the last few hours. Someone had decorated the front pews with evergreen shrubs, and hundreds of candles burned brightly. An organ blared, and a choir sang. Seri took off her cloak before stepping into church. She walked down the aisle in her red velvet dress.


    At the altar, the minister instructed Brand to take Seri by the hand. Seri had been using the bouquet to hide her hands, and when he moved the bunch of ferns away, she flinched. Her hand was covered in scales, and her nails had turned black and had start to curve, like claws. It didn¡¯t matter, though. She was still Seri, and he still loved her. Brand took her hand into his own.


    He wished he had treated her better. That was his biggest regret. That he had knocked at her gate instead of flying over it; that he¡¯d spoken gently to her instead of yelling at her; that he had lifted the curse when she first asked him¡­ or better yet, had not cursed her at all. If he had done that, maybe he wouldn¡¯t feel so sad and guilty now. Maybe she would have been happy, too.


    After endless benedictions, they said their vows, and it was nearly done. Now, he had only to kiss her. As he stepped forward to raise her veil, Brand noticed, at last, that Seri was wearing her necklace¡ªthe ruby pendant he gave her. He hadn¡¯t known she still had it¡ªhe thought maybe she¡¯d thrown it away. He was touched that she wore it now¡­ but also, for some reason, deeply sad.


    He looked up, into her eyes, which were no longer her eyes, but yellow and slitted. Seri couldn¡¯t quite meet his gaze. He remembered, when she first arrived, how unafraid she was to stare him in the eye. She¡¯d been so strong and so spirited then, and he¡¯d just crushed her.


    He had to do better.


    Brand kissed her lightly on the cheek, and as he did, he felt the curse begin to dissolve. Seri seemed to sense it, too. She put a hand to her face, and then to her stomach.


    ¡°It¡¯s lifting,¡± she said.


    He nodded. ¡°You¡¯ll be back to your old self before long.¡±


    There was no feast after the ceremony, just a light supper. And that was it. They were to sleep in separate rooms. Not exactly how Brand had envisioned his wedding night.


    ¡°What are you going to do with your bouquet?¡± Nel asked Seri.


    ¡°I was thinking of putting it on a grave I found.¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to escort you?¡± Brand asked.


    ¡°You want to come?¡± Seri asked.


    ¡°It seems like the sort of thing a husband should do.¡±


    They went, after dinner. Seri even took Brand¡¯s arm¡ªalbeit with some hesitation. Walking together in the cold air, with the moonlight casting a silver glow on the white frosted ground¡ªit felt nice. Romantic, even. For a moment, Brand almost fooled himself into thinking that they were a real couple.


    ¡°Are you looking for a specific grave?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes. It has my mother¡¯s name on it.¡±


    ¡°What was her name?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± Seri hesitated. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m no longer sure. She must have changed it after¡­.¡± She glanced at Brand and looked away. ¡°But I knew her as Marlis. That¡¯s the name I¡¯m searching for.¡±


    It took a little while to find. Seri could hardly see with her veil covering her eyes, and Brand had to squint to read the crumbling stone in the dim light. Finally, though, they found the marker. Seri lowered herself and placed the bouquet near the monument.


    ¡°Hello, Mother,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t your grave, but I know you¡¯re here, with me, now. I hope you don¡¯t mind sharing the flowers with this Marlis. One day I¡¯ll return home, and when I do, I¡¯ll bring you a big bouquet of lilies.¡±


    Lilies. The flowers he¡¯d first bought her. The flowers she¡¯d had been cutting when he¡¯d abducted her. They were for her mother. Brand felt the air drain from his lungs and a lump form in his throat. He swallowed.


    ¡°Are you ready to go back?¡± he asked softly.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± she said, standing up.


    He offered her his arm¡ªout of habit¡ªand she took it¡ªagain, out of habit. They walked together and did not speak. Black gauze wreathed Seri¡¯s head and face; her eyes were hidden from him. Brand¡¯s heart thudded painfully in his chest. Seri was his wife, now, but she was not truly his¡ªno more than she had been that first day he¡¯d flown over the wall and saw her: a pretty girl in a red wool dress, gathering lilies, alone, near the side of the water.


    * * *


    End of Book 1

 Announcements and Bonus Scene

    Excerpt from Book 2


    Brand made it back at around one o¡¯clock. He went inside the abbey to get lunch. He hoped to run into Seri, but no such luck. She was in her bedroom, Gretchen told him, sleeping.


    Brand did, however, run into Gertrude, Seri¡¯s grandmother¡ªand, incidentally, the woman who had orchestrated the slaughter of his Castle. He was not all that happy to see her.


    ¡°Have you eaten yet?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I was about to,¡± he said.


    ¡°Good. I ordered you a hearty lunch. I expect you are depleted after using so much magic. You will need to keep up your strength.¡±


    Half a day¡¯s flight was not enough to drain him, though he was hungry. Brand suspected, however, that Gertrude¡¯s concern over his health had little to do with compassion. She only cared about him to the extent that her granddaughter was bound to him. Brand went to the kitchen and got himself a plate.


    He ate in the dining room. For a little while, he was alone. But Gertrude returned shortly thereafter, with a piece of paper in her hand. She put it next to him, and stood near his shoulder, hovering over him.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked, indicating the paper.


    ¡°A detailed list and instructions of medicines which may help ease my granddaughter through her pain.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s in pain?¡± Brand said, looking up.


    ¡°The transformation is quite painful.¡±


    ¡°But the curse is broken now¡ª¡±


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Reversed,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°And the pain was never a part of the curse, merely a side effect. It is hard for the body to be turned into another state.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I thought¡ª¡± Brand said.


    Gertrude looked at him.


    Brand looked away. He hadn¡¯t thought, not really. He knew that Seri was in pain, and he¡¯d assumed, for some unfathomable reason, that since he had fixed the situation, at least partially, the pain would start to go away. Ignorant, wishful thinking on his part.


    He looked over the list, folded it up, and put it in his pocket.


    ¡°I will see that she gets these,¡± he said.


    ¡°Has she been taking anything before?¡±


    ¡°No. She rarely complains,¡± Brand said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was so bad.¡±


    ¡°I think it might be getting worse,¡± Gertrude said.


    ¡°Worse?¡± Brand asked.


    Gertrude nodded and sat down beside him. ¡°How long did it take her to get in this state?¡±


    ¡°Four months.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it take as long to transform back,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°The purpose of the spell was to secure a bride for the one who enacted it. The transformation from girl to dragon would be long and drawn out, giving the girl time to agree to the marriage. Once she did agree, though, there would be no reason to delay. The transformation would be sped up¡ªand this would cause her pain to increase.¡±


    ¡°You seem to know more about the spell than I do,¡± Brand muttered, mostly to distract himself. He did not like thinking of Seri in pain.


    ¡°I¡¯m a sorcerer¡¯s wife,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°I know how magic is created, its effects¡ªand its limitations. There are few healing spells, and they are hard to master. I don¡¯t suppose you know one?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    Gertrude nodded. ¡°I know a little about medicine. And there is a monk here who specializes in it. I have consulted him, and he agrees. He will even give you some of his draughts, if you will make a small donation to the church.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see him after I eat,¡± Brand said. He picked at his meat. ¡°I wonder, though, if it wouldn¡¯t be better for Seri to stay here, at least until the transformation is complete. She¡¯d have access to better physicians.¡±


    ¡°She will not be safe here,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°You need to take her back to your tower, no later than tonight.¡±


    ¡°Tonight?¡± Brand said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to do any more traveling today. I had planned to take you home tomorrow morning and then¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are not going to take me home,¡± Gertrude said. ¡°Leave me the horse and carriage. I will make my way back on my own.¡±


    ¡°I just bought those,¡± Brand said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning to give them to you.¡±


    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t take them back.¡±


    ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Because, young Brandeis, you are being followed.¡±