“Reshina,” he whispered, stepping closer, “I have not aged since that day.”
I quickly scanned him again. By my understanding, he should be through about half of a human life. But he did not look it. Humans aged dramatically—wrinkling, slowing down—their few decades in this realm changing them so quickly, it felt like the blink of an eye before one passed over to the Veil and thousands more were born.
But Arthur didn’t look to have lived much beyond his fourth decade of life. His forehead held a few lines from worry. His eyes and mouth showed little residual evidence of a life of smiles and laughter. He could be as old as I was when I stopped showing signs of age at thirty-seven. It was a common time for faekind to cease aging until they reached over a thousand years old, something I would not achieve for a few centuries yet.
“These…creatures. You’re sure they’re Ishtak’s Underfae?” I asked with caution.
“I…” he began, swallowing in distaste. “I cannot say…particulars…”
Sighing, I shook my head. “Don’t strain yourself. I recognize a Goddess’s bind when I see it. I’d like you to take me to the library, but first…” I looked him over again. Dark circles under his eyes told me he hadn’t slept much. The slump of his wide shoulders confirmed it even more. “I’d like to try to leave. Again. Before I commit to finding another way out of here.”
A grin tugged on his lips. “What do you have in mind, Goddess? The Beast will always capture you before you leave the grounds. And he’s known for his insatiable desire for blood.” He stepped even closer—close enough that I was forced to step one foot behind me to keep my balance. “He is certainly yearning for a true taste of yours.”
“How does it work, exactly? If you’re locked in chains down here, could I get away before he could break through them? Could we try it?”
“Sure, I keep a set of chains in my rooms.”
I laughed. “Do you really?”
“No,” he said swiftly. “I left them at my home in Riche before my mother died and left me to become the Beast she hated.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Typical, for a son to blame his mother for something she could not change.”
“I don’t blame her,” he growled. “I blame you.”
“Ah,” I said, turning down the corridor. “A much better choice as I am used to the blame for the title forced upon me. As if I had any other choice but to deliver those curses.”
He dashed to my side, walking with me. “But your son bears the title of Cursebringer now. So you have done what my mother did. You’ve passed the burden onto your child.”
I shook my head. “Not that you would understand, but Korven took the title for himself. He trained for many years to take it in his sister’s place. He wanted it to save her from the burden.”
“Yes,” he grumbled. “He does play the overprotective part well.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You’ve met?”
He tilted his head side to side. “I like to think I aided him in pursuing what he truly desired.”
“You’re friends?”
He laughed, the boom reverberating in the hall and flickeringthe low candlelight. “Your son loathes me. That I am sure of. Almost tossed me out a window once.”
My frown deepened. “Well, regardless, it’s fine that you blame me. Hate me all you want, I?—”
He darted in front of me, blocking my way. “I don’t hate you, Reshina. Blame and hate are not synonymous here.”
“I’d hate me,” I said softly. “I don’t mind if you do.”
His head shook slowly. “It’s more complicated than that. Your deliverance of this curse altered the course of my life forever. But I only existbecauseyou delivered this curse. I lived a full life before the call of the Beast took me.” He stepped closer, towering over me and blocking the light. “I am ready to die. I avoided trapping another down here for over a decade, but when I realized it was you…this is how the curse was meant to be broken. With your knife in my chest.” He laughed lightly. “A sort of cruel twist on Cursebringer, don’t you think? To first bring the curse and then be the one to end it.”
“And what?” I breathed, easing into the space between us. “Am I to live with the guilt of taking your life for the rest of my days? Not to mention the punishment that would follow for stealing a life from the Veil before its time? I’m not your escape, Arthur.”
“I beg to differ,” he growled. His eyes were ice—such a cold blue, I swear I had not seen a color that could compare. “Do it.” He jerked his head toward the end of the corridor where it met a forked path. “Run. Let’s see how far you make it before the Beast cuts into your flesh and drags you back underground. Escape is not an option, Goddess.”
I shivered at the offer, something stirring in my chest at his words. “And if I do, you’ll stay here for as long as he lets you?”
“Yes.”
I stepped around him, heading down the hall. “I don’t know the way to the stairs.”
