Nobody's Goddess (25 page)

Read Nobody's Goddess Online

Authors: Amy McNulty

Tags: #YA, #fantasy, #love and romance, #forbidden love, #unrequited love

BOOK: Nobody's Goddess
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“You look well fed.” She moved her hands down to meet mine and pulled my arms outward, observing my new garment. “You look like a lady. Elegant. Beautiful.” She leaned in to whisper, “And not at all like yourself.”

I smiled and squeezed her hands. “I’m so happy to see you, Alvilda. It’s been a long winter.”

Alvilda put her arm around my shoulder, guiding me up the dirt path and toward the arch. I heard the specters and the black carriage move behind me, but when I turned to look, they had only moved to the side of the path and were still close enough to keep an eye on me. Alvilda propelled me forward and kept her voice low, but countless pairs of eyes—human and animal-masked ones alike—drank in every movement we made as we ascended the dirt road.

“I imagine you’re anxious to see your father and your sister,” she said. “And Jurij,” she added in a lower tone. “But you’ve arrived mere moments before the ceremony is to begin. Come sit with Siofra, the kids, and me, and let’s surprise them.”

The kids jumped out of their seats and ran to hug me both at once, screaming, “Noll!” The duck beak on Luuk’s face poked into my chest.

“Careful, Luuk,” said Alvilda, gently pushing his shoulders back. “You’ll stab Noll through the heart with that beak.”

We laughed. I squeezed them both back, ignoring the poke. I tapped Nissa on the back of the head, and then bent one hand upward awkwardly to pat Luuk’s curls that stuck up and out above the duck mask.

“You’ve certainly grown!” I let my hands fall, feeling sort of stupid for petting the kid atop the head. Another half a yard, and he’d be as tall as his brother.

“Thanks,” said Luuk, tucking both hands into pockets in his fine dark trousers. Even through the muffled sound of his duck beak, I thought his voice sounded lower. And without so much as a hint of the quivering that used to accompany his every word.

Nissa, a little beauty in a cream-colored silken dress, put her arm through Luuk’s. “Isn’t he getting to be so handsome?” That made Alvilda laugh, but she was quick to bite her lip and cover it with the side of her hand, pretending she had a sudden itch beneath her nose.

“Yes, of course!” I’d have said I’d have to take her word on that, but I knew since he was still breathing that Nissa had never seen his face, either. Still, the way her young, dark eyes drank in the wooden duck, I might have been able to believe she saw beneath it to the wonder she thought lay inside. “And I love your dress, too.”

Nissa blushed. “I made it with Siofra.”

So they were on a first-name basis. I supposed it made sense since she was to be her future gooddaughter, the same as Elfriede. Nissa finally tore her eyes off of Luuk long enough to look at what I was wearing. “We made yours, too!”

“Did you?” I turned in place and let the skirt swish beneath me with a sudden appreciation for the fine skirts and dresses I’d refused before. “It’s lovely. You’re so talented.”

Nissa beamed. “Thanks. We made it last month. The lord paid so well for it, too. We had enough copper left over to buy silk for my dress and for Siofra’s, and for Alvilda’s too.”

At the sound of her name again, Mistress Tailor finally decided to join in the conversation in her own curt way. “Luuk, Nissa, be seated. It’s about to begin.”

Luuk and Nissa sat back down in their chairs at the end of the row, their hands clasped together. Alvilda guided me a tad forcefully into a seat between her and Mistress Tailor, who looked as pretty as I’d ever seen her in a muted green dress. Mistress Tailor didn’t seem happy to see me, but I supposed I
was
unintentionally making a fuss at her elder son’s wedding.

My stomach clenched. I’d been so happy to win this bit of freedom that I hadn’t quite faced the fact that the man I loved would move beyond my grasp for a second time. But that was unfair. I already knew that he was long, long ago swept away out of my reach.

Alvilda squeezed my hand and pointed to the arch towering over Elweard. “How do you like my gift to the coupling?”

The arch looked familiar. “The headboard?”

Alvilda laughed. “It started off as one, but I had a burst of inspiration that told me this just had to be a wedding arch.” She lowered her voice even further and whispered in my ear. “That and I love to tease Siofra. She hates useless gifts. When she saw it, she thought I wasn’t going to make them a headboard at all, and I got an earful about always forgoing common sense to suit my poor choices. It was fun.” She smiled, and I witnessed an odd flash of something I didn’t recognize cross her features.

The music started, the dainty tune that heralded the bride and her parents’ arrival at the ceremony. The bride’s mother usually stood among them to emphasize the maternal cycle, an act the groom’s mother did not share with her son. I thought of Mother lying in the castle for a moment and felt ill. Then I shook my head to clear the stirring of venom and turned with the rest of the villagers to watch as Elfriede and Father came down the first hill and ascended the second, being sure to keep my eyes downward, off the horizon.
I don’t want to see the castle anyway.

She looked beautiful, as fair as ever in a deep-violet gown I imagined to be the work of Mistress Tailor’s. It was not unlike my own, although Elfriede’s had real, live lily blooms woven into the material. Father stood beside her, a man-face mask hiding his face from me. Elfriede’s features fell when she noticed me. Then she smiled, only a slight touch of pain remaining on her face.

They reached the top of the hill, and Father removed his mask and threw it at the ground. His eyes wandered in my direction briefly, his features as cold as stone, but his gaze was quickly drawn away to the hill.

The music switched to the hearty march that signaled the arrival of the groom and his father. Jurij and Master Tailor came over the lily-covered hill, both wearing masks. Jurij’s was the man-face mask like the one he’d worn to his Returning, and Master Tailor’s was also man in form, a mask I’d never before seen him wear.

When they arrived at the top of the second hill and took their places beside Elfriede and my father, Jurij removed his mask and tossed it on the ground, leaning in toward Elfriede for a quick kiss. Master Tailor removed his man-face mask to reveal his favorite owl mask underneath. The villagers laughed. Mistress Tailor shifted uncomfortably beside me.

Jurij, his back toward me, didn’t seem to have noticed me. There was nothing in all of the land that could tear him from Elfriede. The happiness on his face slipped only slightly when he noticed the furrowed brow on Elfriede’s expression. But she soon regarded her pain in his reflection and put on her best smile. Unlike me, she could genuinely and completely shift from pain to joy. But she had Jurij, and I had nothing.

I watched the ceremony and felt the pain of the Returning flood back. Once they exchanged the last of their vows and the final kiss of the ritual, they headed back down the dirt path together hand in hand. As their feet disappeared over the hilltop toward my home, my heart sank, and I wondered if he was watching. If this was indeed why I’d been able to go, if this was what he’d wanted me to see.

My clapping slowed, even as the rest of the crowd grew more jubilant. Alvilda’s expression grew sour next to me, and she grabbed me gently by the hand. “Let’s go,” she whispered. She tugged me gently toward the back of the archway. I noticed Mistress Tailor’s bitter expression as she watched us go; Luuk and Nissa leaned in toward one another, smiling girl forehead plastered against wooden duck crown.
It never ends, this wretched cycle.

“Congratulations,” Alvilda said softly to Master Tailor as we passed by him. She patted him on the back with her free hand. Master Tailor turned briefly and nodded. I thought I could hear him weeping, but the sound was hollow beneath the owl mask.

We walked around Elweard and stood behind my father. He saw us coming and pointedly turned back toward the jubilant crowd, digging into his front coat pocket and pulling out a small bottle. Before the bottle could quite reach his lips, Alvilda let me go and moved her hands to block it.

“Come, Gideon,” she said. “Come and speak now with your daughter.”

Father sighed and slid the bottle back into his pocket. The cheering crowd began to make its way toward us and the village.

“Let’s go,” said Alvilda, taking hold of Father and me, one in each arm. “We can talk at my place. We can pay our respects to the happy coupling later.”

We headed down the hill and toward the village. The specters in the distance stirred and jumped atop the carriage.

 

 

***

 

 

“Tea?” asked Alvilda, already pouring the hot water into the mugs she’d placed before Father and me. She put down the kettle and went back to her cupboard. As she rummaged around for leaves, Father snuck a sip of ale out of his bottle. Alvilda dropped the tea leaves into the water and took a seat at her sawdust-covered table between us. She looked from one of us to the other. I grabbed hold of my mug.

“Gideon,” said Alvilda, when no other voice was forthcoming. “I think it’s time you have a heart-to-heart with Noll. It’s actually high past time.”

Father sighed and began fumbling at the outside of his coat pocket. “What does she know?”

I felt the heat of the tea almost singe my palm through the mug. “I know that my father is so ashamed to face me that he won’t even speak directly to me.”

Father wiped a tired hand across his gray and black hairline. “I’m sorry, Noll. When I saw you’d showed for the wedding … I just didn’t know what to say.”

“You should have started by asking how Mother was doing.”

Alvilda gasped. Father’s eyes widened. “She’s well, then?”

I slapped my palms atop the table. Sawdust went flying, probably landing in my tea. “I can’t say how well she’s doing, fast asleep in the care of a monster!”

Father pulled his ale bottle out of his pocket and took a swig. Alvilda didn’t stop him.

“I knew he had her,” said Father at last. “I didn’t know for certain if she was still living. I thought I’d feel it if she … well. I couldn’t be sure.”

My eyes couldn’t meet his, couldn’t stare into the budding ember of flame I knew I’d find there.

Alvilda looked from one of us to the next. “So you’ve seen her, Noll?”

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “Just once. My first night there, he took me to see her in a guarded room, sleeping. She didn’t wake. And he made sure that I knew the consequences of abusing my power over him: Her death.”

“The cheat!” Alvilda banged her hands across the table.

“That evening when you were gone, Aubree took a turn for the worse.” Father gulped the ale for a moment, slamming down the empty bottle. “She was breathing so heavily. She could barely speak, but she couldn’t stop moaning. Sweat poured off her like she’d just come in from a torrent of rain. Then she stopped moaning. That was scarier than when she
was
moaning. She was still breathing, but barely.”

Father drummed the shaky fingers of his free hand on the table. “I heard a sound outdoors. I thought it might be you or Elfriede come home at first, but it was louder than that. The door burst open. It was the lord’s servants.”

He picked up the bottle and tried to take another sip. When he came up empty, he leered at the bottle and put it back down. “I told them you weren’t there, to be on their way to find you, that I had a dying wife to worry about. Then they came to the bed and picked her up, carried her right out the door without so much as a word to me. I jumped in and followed. ‘This was all I wanted from Noll,’ I told myself. Just to
ask
the man. Ask him if he could help us. Since he’d do anything for you.”

“I
did
ask him. That same night. You wouldn’t believe me. But that’s probably why he finally sent for her.”

Father shook his head. “The lord greeted us in the entryway to the castle, wearing his black veil and hat. I dropped right down to my knees, even as the pale servants lay Aubree on the floor before me. ‘Have mercy, my lord,’ I said. ‘Do what you can to spare my wife. I’ll do anything.’ ‘And where is Olivière?’ he asked. ‘Why has she not come with you?’ Well, I wanted to say it was just that Noll is such a—” Father stopped suddenly, held the empty bottle to his lips and spat. He wagged a finger at me. “She’s a
stubborn
girl, but I thought better than to insult a man’s goddess right in front of him, so I said nothing.”

But you don’t think better than to insult your own daughter in front of her.
Not that that was surprising. I took a sip of my tea. It tasted a bit of sawdust.

Father plopped his filthy spit-bottle down on the table. “The lord, he waited a bit for my answer. I suppose he finally figured I had nothing to say to him on the matter, so he bade me to rise. ‘That woman continues to aggravate me,’ he said, which is why I thought you hadn’t visited him. I thought he’d tell me if you had. ‘I can heal your wife. It will take time. Tell no one she is here, not even your daughters, and do not come here yourself. You can see your wife again on the day of Olivière’s Returning.’”

If he could heal her, why wasn’t he certain until he’d sent me away?
“He told you not to tell me? How could he—”

Father cut me off, letting go of the bottle in order to wring his hands. “I dared to ask if he was certain he could save her. I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. He gave me a warning. ‘The lord of the village does not make promises he cannot keep.’ I begged his forgiveness. I just didn’t know what to believe, what with the talk of immortality and how it was his lack of a goddess that had made him master of death. But I knew beyond a doubt that the lord had never found a goddess among all of the women in my lifetime, so maybe it was possible. I just worried that having found Noll, he’d have lost whatever it was that made him keep death at bay.”

Of course. Another excuse to blame me.

Alvilda sighed and stretched her arms up over her head. “I hope you didn’t say that part aloud.”

Again, Father tried to drink from the empty bottle. “No, of course not.”

“So you’ve heard it, too,” I interrupted, putting the mug down. “The title the ‘heartless monster.’”

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