Page 29 of Enthralled

“Oscar then,” I say, my throat so tight I can scarcely get the words out. “Will you make certain I arrive in the same moment as my brother? It won’t do me any good if I get there a hundred years too early or too late.”

The crone smiles nastily, as though the thought had occurred to her. “With the gates broken, I cannot promise such precision. The best I can do is within three days, either before or after his arrival.”

Three days. It could work. If I arrived three days early, I could put the other librarians on alert, make certain everything is ready before Oscar and Ivor burst through from realities beyond. I might even be able to prevent the gates from being broken at all, might be able to get a message to Castien in Aurelis or . . . or . . .

Or it could be three days later. Three days too late.

“Do we have a bargain?” the crone asks, leaning forward in her chair, closer and closer. Her unblinking gaze seems to fill my vision. I am lost in the glittering facets of that crystal, ready to be fractured and cast into a thousand pieces, scattered across worlds. I have no choice. If I’m not willing to give up my heart for the chance to save Castien, to save Vespre, then what good am I? This is what they need. This is what I must do. My atonement, my sacrifice, my—

“Take mine instead.”

Something snaps inside my head. I draw back with a gasp then whirl and stare up at Danny. He stands over the crone, his fists clenched. “Danny, no!” I gasp.

“What?” he demands, whirling on me. His face is lined and dreadful. “I already gave you my heart, Clara, and you didn’t want it. You tossed it back to me again, and what good is it to me now?”

“Your heart is the best part of you.” I reach out, try to catch his hand, but Danny takes a step back out of reach. Tears spring to my eyes. “Whereas mine . . . mine is the worst. Your heart has led you to pursue a life of healing and help, while mine has only led me to hurt and betray those I love. If either of us deserves to be heartless, Danny, it’s me. It’s me.”

“You’re not helping your case, little human,” the crone chuckles with glee. “From the sound of it, your heart isn’t worth all that much, while his sounds more and more tempting.”

“No!” I turn to her, clasping my hands over my breast as though I might even now remove the wretched organ and place it in the crone’s claws. “No, please! You can’t do this!”

“Don’t be a fool,” Ilusine hisses. “You’ll be no use to Castien heartless. For what you must do, you need to be whole and strong.” I look down at her, my eyes swimming, my vision blurred so that I cannot discern any expression in her gaunt features. I can only see her head slowly shake. “Let him do it,” she says. “Let him have his moment of heroism.” There’s a certain bitterness to her voice; bitterness and understanding combined.

I turn to Danny again, my protests silenced. Tears stream down my cheeks. I can do nothing but whisper his name. He steps toward me, cups my face with his hand. “Clara,” he says, “I love you. I always have. But the truth is, I’m not sure I can bear to go on loving you. Not like this. I’ll be a better doctor, a better brother, a better man if I don’t.”

I want to protest. I want to tell him how false this idea is, how foolish. But I cannot form the words.

“I’ve made my decision,” he continues, no longer gentle but firm. “As my heart is worthless to you in every other way, let me use it now to help you. To let you be with the man you love. I only—” For an instant his voice breaks. He draws a painful, steadying breath. “I only hope you will think of me kindly now and then.”

Then he turns from me and steps across the little room to stand before the crone. It is so strange to see him here, in this room that was once the setting of our blossoming love. To see him standing over that wretched creature, to watch how she grins up at him so greedily. It’s too horrible, and I half-lunge to interfere. But Ilusine is on her feet and catches hold of both my arms, restraining me with surprising force. “Let me go!” I weep.

“I think not,” the princess hisses. “If this is what it takes to save Castien, I, for one, am willing to pay the price.”

I cannot tear my eyes off Danny. I feel him slipping away from me, fading into a mist of time and obscurity and unfathomable distance. Blood pounds too loud in my ears—I can no longer hear what the crone says or what Danny answers. She places one gnarled hand against his chest, and all my awareness seems to center on that single point of contact.

There’s a burst—not of light, but anti-light. It’s blinding, painful. I turn away with a cry, tuck against Ilusine’s shoulder. The inside of my head throbs with the aftershock, rendering me temporarily senseless. Then I hear my own ragged breath again. Slowly other senses return. I pull away from Ilusine, peer into the room again.

Danny lies on the floor, collapsed and still. The crone stands at the mantel, settling the lid of a blue-and-white porcelain jar. She chuckles with satisfaction as she places the jar in the center of the mantel. Without a spare glance for her victim, she steps to a door which has appeared suddenly beside the fireplace. It doesn’t belong there, doesn’t belong in this chamber of my memory. The crone opens it, revealing another portal into absolute blackness.

“Follow the center path and step through the gate at the end of my garden,” she says. “The way to Vespre won’t last long. Not even such a bargain can generate enough magic to keep a rift between worlds open. But it’ll get you through, and you’ll arrive within three days of your brother.”

“And Castien?” Ilusine demands.

The crone shrugs. “I have no idea where that pretty man has ended up. Our bargain is complete, and he is beyond my range of detection. But the cords of fate will surely draw them back together.”

Only now does Ilusine release her grip on my arms. I dart forward and drop to my knees beside Danny. He lies face-up, so still and so pale. For a heartbeat I fear . . . but, no. He’s breathing. Light and fast, but audible. “Danny!” I cry, reaching out to touch him, desperate to wake him, to speak to him.

Ilusine snatches my wrist. She crouches on the other side of his fallen form, glaring at me. “He did what he had to do. As did I.” Her thin lips twist, and her hollow cheeks tighten. “No one deserves the poison of unrequited love. But I hope you find Castien. I hope you make something of this mess you’ve created.”

Tears fall from my cheeks, spattering Danny’s waistcoat. “What about him?”

“I’ll see that he gets back to his people safely.”

“But what will happen to him now?”

“That is not your concern.” Ilusine rises and drags me to my feet. “You’ve made your choice. Your path is set and it no longer involves this man.” Her fingers tighten painfully. “Give Castien my best.”

With those words, she lets go, steps back, and crosses her arms over her emaciated chest. I look at her, uncertain what words of farewell are appropriate in a moment like this. I cast a last look down at Danny, wishing I could do something, say something. There’s already such a change come over his face. Though his features are unaltered, the expression is different. He looks like a stranger now.

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