Rumpel's Prize (24 page)

He snorted, closed his eyes, and then sighed. “Thousands of years. But you have to understand, I wouldn’t do it for me.” His look was pleading. “My son is dying. Caratina died when he was only five months old, and he didn’t have enough time to absorb part of her soul; without it, he’s going mad.”

“So you brought me here to absorb my soul, but I wasn’t worthy, was I?” She shook her head. “I failed every test, and so yet again you see these games do not work.”

“No, you are wrong.” He took a step toward her, clenched his fingers as though he wanted to reach out, but then decided to drop his hand by his leg. “You passed every single one.”

“What?” She blinked. “You’re lying again.”

“I never lied.” He scrubbed his jaw. “Never. I did not tell you the truth, but you did not ask me the right questions.”

“And why should I have to, Rumpel? Omission is as good as a lie.”

“Because it’s not in my nature to be anything other than I am, Carrot.”

She snorted. “I suppose your next words are that for me, you are willing to bend?”

“You do not believe me?”

“Of course I don’t—you’ve given me no reason to.”

“You were tested on three of the seven deadly sins. Wrath. Greed. And Lust.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “You did not kill Brenna, though she deserved it, you denied your wrath. Your father was greedy and blinded by it. You would not help him, even though I sensed your love. And now…”

“You seduced me and I said no.” She smirked. “But it was so easy to do, Rumpel. Because I did not want you. Anyone else and I might have succumbed, so you ruined any chance of seeing that I’m just as imperfect as the rest of them.”

It was so quiet in the room that she could hear the beating of her own heart whooshing through her ears.

“Just as I cannot utter a lie, I can also sense when others tell untruths. You want me as desperately as I want you.”

“No.” She laughed.

“It’s okay, my Carrot, it is only what I deserve. I have been wrong and should never have done what I did to you. But I would hope in some small corner of your good heart that you will not think of me too badly. I am sorry. You passed every test.”

Clutching at her chest, she took a step back. “You can’t do this, it’s wrong. I won’t let you take my soul.”

“You’re right. I can’t do this.”

She waited, waited for him to laugh, to snap his fingers and call the demons down to take her to the boy so he could suck out her soul. But he just stood there, drinking her in like water, studying the lines and planes of her face as though memorizing them.

“You’re letting me go? But your boy…” She swallowed, finally understanding the sacrifice he was willing to make for her, and though she had no desire to allow the boy to take her soul, it grieved her. “Rumpel.”

He held up a hand and gave her a small smile. “My problem now. Go home, Shayera Caron, and thank you.”

“For what? I’ve done nothing.”

His eyes grew so sad. “You’ve done more than you’ll ever know.”

“Before I leave, I have one question to ask you.”

“Anything.”

“Are the boy and the wolf one and the same? I saw him in the bowl, hidden beneath the castle in a cage. Do you shift like him?”

“Royalty cannot shift into animals. That is a skill of the commoner. Euralis has three forms—the boy, the wolf, and the crow.”

“Why was he in the bowl? Why did he show himself to me? Dalia said that bowl would show me my happiness.”

He shrugged. “It is magic from the old world; it probably no longer even works.”

She wanted to hug him fiercely, but she was so confused, and still very angry by his deception. Ready to go, she had one last thing to say to him. “I read in your book that there’s a chalice. The author seemed to believe it might work.”

“Aye.” His Adam’s apple rolled as he nodded. “But the chalice is in the heart of darkness, and I can no longer return to Delerium. Neither I nor a member of my household. If the chalice does exist, I could never hope to get to it. And just so you know, the moment I was kicked out of Delirium,
my wife
”—he stressed the word like a curse—“married another. There was no love between us. It was always only politics.”

And that was that. There was no hope for Euralis; she read it in his eyes. Rumpel was sacrificing his own happiness and his son’s soul for her. There were no words that could adequately express her gratefulness or even hope to do this justice. Winning had never felt more terrible.

“Send me home, Rumpel. It’s time.”

He swallowed and she sensed the words trapped on his tongue, the same ones trapped on her own. His eyes pleaded.

She glanced at her feet.

“Good-bye, Carrot,” he whispered.

He snapped his fingers, and as she hurtled through time and space, she whispered back to him, “Good-bye, my dark prince.”

Rumpel stared into the embers of his fire; the castle now sat in perpetual darkness. The clouds gathered with rain and lightning. He brokered no deals, even though he heard the cries of many. It no longer mattered.

In all his years, all his time in Kingdom, she’d only ever been found worthy. Euralis howled a lonely melody that reverberated through the echoing silence his keep had become.

He reeked of brandy, whiskey, whatever he could find that would burn going down. It didn’t matter so long as he could dull the pain of losing.

Losing any hope he’d had of winning back his son.

Losing the games.

His heart.

The shriveled, mangled thing that he’d thought would never love again. Wasn’t capable of it. Shayera had revived his soul and he’d let her walk away.

Sniffing, he choked down the amber liquid straight from the bottle. And then he growled, chucking it into the hearth so hard the glass shattered.

Sulfur surrounded him. “Go to her, sir.”

“Giles, leave me.” He never took his eyes off the flame as he scraped his thumb and forefinger against the bristles of his jaw. “I’m not fit company for the devil himself.”

“It’s been two weeks, sir. You broke faith—you let her leave after she played the game and won. Why did you not tell her the rest?”

“What does it matter?”

“What does it matter!” His previously complacent butler glowered. Stepping in front of Rumpel and blocking his view of the fire, he looked once again like the coldhearted mercenary he’d once been. “Because it does. Because your demone nature recognizes what you are so determined not to see. She is your mate. You will weaken, wither, and eventually die without her. The games cannot be corrupted; she was supposed to remain here. Why did you let her go?”

Giles’s chest heaved with the strain of not jumping on his master. Rumpel read it in his eyes.

“I am an old, old man, Giles. Well past ten thousand years. Can I not be allowed to choose when it’s over?”

Giles ground his square jaw from side to side. He’d not shaved in days, his eyes looked swollen, and it bothered Rumpel that his manservant was clearly so affected by what was happening to him.

“Once I’m gone, you’re a free man. Does that not excite you?” He flicked his wrist.

“I was born to guard. If not in Delerium, then this is the next best thing for me. To guard my prince and see that he is well and safe.” He slapped his fist against his palm. “You brought her here, and then you let her go. The fates are not happy with you. The only way to fix this is to bring her back.”

“That is out of the question.” He pounded his fist on the armchair. “She deserves to live.” His nostrils flared. Leaning forward, Rumpel growled. “Leave it be, Giles. This is one time you cannot sway me. Leave. It. Be.”

“Yes. Master.” Turning sharply on his heel, his man walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Which was just his way to let Rumpel know he was vexed, because none of them needed to walk. But this was one time when Rumpel would not bend. For years his selfishness had ruined others. Caratina would have been ashamed.

Euralis was his only regret.

Calling forth another bottle of anything, Rumpel sat in that chair and drank, waiting for oblivion to take him.

“Shay. Shay.” Briley crawled up onto the bed with Shayera and wiggled his way under her arm. “You are always so sad. I don’t like it.”

She tweaked his nose. In the three weeks since she’d been back, she’d begun a process of a sort of metamorphosis.

She’d gone from fury, to anger, to hurt, to finally—most vexing of all—loneliness. Here she was surrounded by the ones she loved most in all the world, but she’d never felt more apart.

“Breakfast is ready,” he whispered. “Come down this time.”

She sighed and kissed his broad forehead. “Do you know how much I love you, Briley? Always will.”

He gripped her hand. “You’re leaving us again, aren’t you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do. I’m confused.”

“Then maybe you need to talk with Godmother and Aunt and Uncle. I’m sure they’d know what to do.”

Everything was always so simple to him. It was what was most appealing about the boy, his innate faith that there was always a silver lining, something better just beyond the next horizon. But her aching heart felt hopeless.

She’d not gone back to wearing sackcloth since her return, something her mother was eternally grateful for. But she’d also not left the house. She couldn’t stand to be glared at, to be hated for being nothing other than what she was, what she was born to be. It wasn’t her fault and she wouldn’t be made to feel guilty about it anymore.

If there was one thing her time with Rumpel had taught her, it was that she deserved better.

“Come on, Shayera.” Briley tugged on her hand. “Just come downstairs and let’s talk about it. Uncle Gerard made crepes.”

She perked up. “Lemon ones?”

“Is there any other kind?”

Laughing, she rolled her eyes. “Well, I can’t resist lemon crepes, now can I? Give me a second to shower and dress and tell them I’ll be down.”

He shot off like a little blur down the stairs, yelling that he’d won and she was coming.

Of course they’d sent in the heavy artillery. Mother and Father knew she was helpless to Briley; he was her greatest weakness. Sighing, she hopped off the bed, peeked out the window, and wondered—just as she did every other time she did it—what Rumpel was doing now and whether any of it had been real.

Sometimes it all felt like a dream.

The sky was blue, the sun shining, and there wasn’t a cloud on the horizon. Maybe Briley was right; maybe she did need to talk. Sort through the thoughts in her head. If anyone could help her make sense of the weirdness that was love, her parents could.

Feeling more excited than she had in weeks, she hurriedly got ready and was tromping down the steps when she heard a voice she’d not heard in a while.

“Well, I’ll be. It’s the girl of the hour!” Danika’s dragonfly wings buzzed as she gave Shayera a coy smile. “Good to see I’m still loved.”

Mother and Father glanced up too, and Briley was serving himself a mound of bacon and already had three large, steaming lemon crepes on his plate. He waved cheerily.

“You knew they were down here, already, didn’t you?” She mock glowered at her cousin, who just shrugged and shoved fried pork fat into his mouth.

“Maybe.”

Danika hushed him. “Well, girl, we need to have a talk.”

Mother patted the seat beside her. Feeling strange, like she hadn’t seen them in days even though she’d been living under this roof for nearly a month now, she sat and kissed Mom’s soft cheek.

“What was that for?” Betty smiled, eternally youthful, with only a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Shayera could see why her father had fallen so madly for her. But more than her outer beauty, her mother was beautiful inside as well.

“Because I love you, Mom, and I don’t think I tell you enough. And you too, Daddy.” She grabbed his hand.

He was drinking from his wife’s teacup—as was their way, they’d shared every meal from the same plate and cup for as long as Shayera could remember. Smiling, he squeezed back. “And I you, little one.” His words were soft, and a touch sad.

Danika nodded. “You’ve decided then, have you?”

The kisses, the smiles, the love… she had decided. Not until this very moment, but seeing them, knowing they all had each other, Shayera knew she’d have to go back to Rumpel.

She had to at least let him know how she felt.

“I’m overwhelmed, and he lied to me. But he confessed the truth in the end.”

Brushing at a crumb on the table, Betty sighed. “I’ll be honest here and say Rumpelstiltskin is never who I imagined for my beautiful, one and only daughter.”

“Mom, but he’s—”

“No.” She held up her hand. “Let me finish.”

Peering deeply into her mother’s warm brown eyes, Shayera nodded for her to continue.

“I was not impressed with him. In fact, I hated him. For what he did to your father, to you, to all of us. Those three months without you were hard. But they would have been so much harder if he hadn’t shown us that you were okay.”

“What?” She looked at her dad. “How?”

Getting up, Betty walked over the bread rack and lifted the lid of a large, square black box that she’d only just noticed. After extracting a thick pile of envelopes that’d been carefully tied together by a red string, she turned around and handed them to her daughter.