Evren eyed him, looking weary and much older than his years. “You’ll stay right here? In this small inn room? I’ve never known you to stay cooped in apalace, much less a room half the size of your wardrobe.”
The prince put his hand over his heart. “I swear it, Evren. By our holy bond, I swear it.”
Evren sighed. Sank onto the end of his bed.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll stay.”
Then he put his head in his hand and said, “Butplease... do not threaten any more children.”
Five
The prince kept his word and spent his final day in Greymist Fair cooped up in the room, sitting by the window and watching Hilda’s cottage on the hill. The trees swayed behind it like dark giants. He tried desperately not to sink into a bad mood—it wouldn’t do to meet her later that night with a thundercloud over his head.
She came from the cottage as she did every morning and stopped halfway down the hill, scanning the area. Then, not spotting him coming to meet her, continued toward the village. That prickled his pride, and all because a blond rat had demanded a wish and refused to leave when told no. The prince’s lip curled. Hilda’s little Henrike wouldn’t be that much of a problem on the road, he was sure. She already wouldn’t speak to him. Maybe, when he took Hilda home to his own city and the palace, Henrike would find other little friends to play with and he’d never have to see her.
Evren brought the prince bread and stew from the kitchenbelow, and the prince ate slowly while he watched out the window.
“You’re obsessed,” Evren said, but the prince didn’t hear him.
Night fell. The troupe set up on the green behind the inn for their final performance, and the village gathered to watch. Only then did the prince descend from his room and sneak outside, edging around the crowd until he found Hilda. She was on the fringes with her daughter as she had been before, except now Evren sat near them with Ilyas. The prince crept closer. Hilda saw him and whispered something to her daughter, who nodded and stayed where she was. Hilda rose and joined the prince in the shadows.
“Let’s go to my cottage,” she said, motioning up the hill.
He followed her away from the torches and noise of the performance. Atop the hill, the prince looked up and realized the clouds had dissipated here, giving an uninterrupted view of a blanket of stars overhead. The forest whispered, like thousands of people stood just out of view in the darkness, watching them. The prince forced himself not to look.There’s no one there, he told himself.
Hilda drew him under the linden tree. Anticipation shivered through the prince’s fingers.
“The answer to your riddle is many things,” she said. “The answers that first came to mind were love, hope, hate, fear, and death. There are others, of course, but I thought five would be enough for you.”
“Plenty,” he said, stepping closer to her, feeling her soft breath against his jaw, the warmth of her so near. “What do you wish for?”
He was sure she was smiling when she said, “Iamgoing to make my wish, but first I want to say some things.”
The prince couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but he could imagine it: flushed with color, eyes bright, lips parted. As beautiful as any man or woman he’d been with before. Her hand was solid on his forearm. “Anything you like,” he said.
“I have been walking with you this week, asking you these questions about yourself and your magic, because I needed to know your true intentions. I’m not a very hard person to please, but I have lived my whole life in a place where magic is a fickle, wild thing, and I don’t think it should be used by fickle, wild people.”
The prince started. “If you’re talking about the boy—Hans—I didn’t—”
She squeezed his arm, silencing him. “Hans is a hell-child, spoiled by his mother and abused by his father, and I feel noregret in saying either thing. You were right to turn him down. You went a bit far, but I understand how the situation started.”
He relaxed. “So you see I’m careful with my magic.”
She said nothing for a moment, and the silence made the prince shiver. Her eyes flashed in the darkness; the prince blinked and they were shadowed again, human.
“Carefulmight apply to someone who had not leashed their magic to riddles.”
The prince stood very still, uncomprehending.
“Carefulmight apply to someone who considers the ramifications of his magic beyond the immediate. Someone who wonders what might become of an old woman in a desert who suddenly has a rich oasis around her house, an oasis that might attract all flavors of weary and dangerous travelers to seek its shelter.Carefulwould be the person who considers the emotional toll of an instant pregnancy upon the human body, and the life of a miracle child born in a small village where magic is either revered or taboo.”
The prince’s shiver had turned into a cold chill. He tried to pull away from Hilda, but she held him fast. Her nails dug into his forearm like claws.
“I understand why you did not give Hans a wish. I could understand if you gave no one a wish ever again. I wouldsupport it, even. What I cannot condone is someone with such considerable power doing nothing to help a child.”
“Help a... you can’t mean Ilyas? The caravan boy?”
He couldn’t see her face, but he could feel her stare. A horrible feeling crept over him, cold fingers caressing his shoulders and neck, the weight of darkness wrapping like a blanket. “This is ridiculous,” he said, suddenly breathless, tearing his arm from her grip and turning back down the hill. “I won’t listen to—”
