Page 89 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

Maidar turns his penetrating gaze back on him. Ruskin towers over him and yet in that moment he seems to look quite small.

“What she’s doing in Faerie, Stiltskin? What trouble have you gotten her into?”

I stifle a slightly hysterical laugh when it seems Ruskin is lost for words. It’s suddenly easy to picture him as a scolded schoolboy.

“That’s why we’re here,” I say. “We need your help.”

Maidar blinks at us both a few times and then steps back to open his door properly.

“All right, then. I suppose you better come in.”

Maidar’s home is a labyrinth of scrolls and curios. Objects whose purpose I couldn’t begin to guess are stacked on top of precarious piles of books. I glance at the spines as he leads us through the maze, noting that some are clearly from Styrland, mixed in with fae texts in a language I can’t read. There are heaps of minerals scattered around, too. I recognize a bucket of augium in the corner, and a box of mismatched shards of ore that, on another day, would’ve fascinated me.

The old tutor brings us over to a spot beside a fireplace and starts making half-hearted attempts at hospitality, shoving tea into our hands without asking after our preferences and dusting off seats for us to sit in. He catches me looking at his collection of ore.

“Tell me girl, did you ever get the augium to work in the end?”

I take a sip of the tea, which is bitter, but not wholly unpleasant.

“I did. In the end, it was just the quantities that needed adjusting, much good that it did me.”

Maidar glances at Ruskin. “Is that how you came to be in Faerie, then?”

“In a way. Ruskin needed my skills, and we made a deal.”

“A deal, Stiltskin?” Maidar says, and his stare makes Ruskin shift uncomfortably.

“Eleanor isn’t here against her will, Magister Cragfoot, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why do you keep calling him that?” I interrupt, unable to hold back my curiosity. “Stiltskin?”

“Rumpelstiltskin is what I called him as a lad. He’s always been unnecessarily tall, of course, and he’d never turn up to class without clothes full of creases. Not like your friend…what was his name? The Lionsvale boy. Always neat as a pin, that one.”

“Rumpelstiltskin…” I say, trying out the name in my mouth, imagining a lanky Ruskin running around in messy clothes. I can’t help myself; I start to giggle.

“It’s not that funny,” Ruskin grumbles under his breath, which of course only makes me laugh more.

“Anyway,” Ruskin says loudly, clearly eager to change the subject. “It turns out Eleanor’s talent at manipulating metals is in more than just alchemy. She has power, metallurgical magic, and we need you to help her explore it.”

“Magic, you say?” Maidar says, sitting up straighter. “When did that start turning up? When you got to Faerie, I presume?”

“Yes,” I say. “Eventually.”

Maidar nods. “Styrland’s a bad place for magic. Sucks all the energy right out of it. You were born with this magic?”

I glance at Ruskin. “I think so. I don’t know for sure.”

The unspoken words dangle between us—the weight of the secrets he can’t share. He remains silent.

I think Maidar catches the look Ruskin and I exchange, raising a bushy eyebrow, but he just asks another question.

“What is it you want to achieve exactly, with this magic of yours?”

“How do you know it’s something specific?” I ask.

“You don’t come all the way to the Unseelie Court for a bit of light studying.” Maidar jabs a finger at Ruskin. “And you don’t bring a prince either. He needs you for something, doesn’t he?”

Now, there’s a complicated question. But I settle for giving Maidar the answer he’s expecting.

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