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“Is that what you think? Dearest Serilda, the moment the Erlking learned of your supposed talent, he brought you here and locked you in the dungeon, demanding that you use your skill to benefithim.When people know that you can dothis”—he gestured at the pile of gold-filled bobbins—“then that is all they care about. Gold and wealth and riches and what you can do for them. It is not a gift, but a curse.” He scratched behind his ear, taking the momentary pause to work a kink from his shoulders, before sighing. It sounded sad. “Besides. Nothing that I want can be purchased with gold.”
“Then why do you keep taking my jewelry?”
His smile returned, a little impish. “Magic requires payment. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not making it up just to steal from you.”
“But what does that mean, exactly?”
“Just what it says. No payment, no magic. No magic, no gold.”
“Where did you learn that? And how did you come to have this gift? Or curse?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Like I said before, it might be a blessing from Hulda. Or maybe I was born with this magic? I haven’t the faintest idea. And learning to take payment for it …” He shrugged. “It’s just something that I know. That I’ve always known. At least as far as I can remember.”
“And how does he not notice you?”
His look turned questioning.
“The Erlking is going through all this trouble to bring me here to spin this gold, when he has a gold-spinner living in his own castle. Does he not know about you?”
Unexpected panic flared in Gild’s eyes. “No, he doesn’t. And he can’t. If you tell him …” He fumbled for words. “I’m trapped enough as it is. I won’t be enslaved to him as well.”
“Of course I won’t say anything. He would kill me if he found out the truth, anyway.”
Gild considered this, his momentary alarm fading.
“But that doesn’t really answer my question. How can henotnotice you? You’re … you’re not like the other ghosts.”
“Oh, he notices me plenty.” This was said with a fair bit of smugness. “But I’m just the resident poltergeist, remember? He notices what I want him to notice, and I want him to notice that I am a complete and utter nuisance. I doubt it’s ever crossed his mind that I could be something more, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Serilda frowned. It still struck her as unlikely that the king would be so ignorant about a gold-spinning ghost in his court, even a meddlesome one.
Seeing her suspicion, Gild scooted closer. “It’s a big, crowded castle, and he avoids me whenever possible. The feeling is mutual.”
“I suppose,” she said, sensing that there was more to their history, but that Gild didn’t care to reveal it. “And you’re sure you’re a ghost?”
“A poltergeist,” he clarified. “It’s a particularly obnoxious kind of ghost.”
She hummed, unconvinced.
“Why? What doyouthink I am?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve already concocted a dozen stories in my head about you, if not more.”
“Stories? About me?” His expression brightened.
“That can’t be a surprise. A mysterious stranger who appears magically whenever a fair damsel is in need of rescuing? Who dresses like a drunken earl, but can create gold at his fingertips. Who is flippant and aggravating, but somehow charming, too, when he wants to be.”
He snickered. “It was a convincing start, but now I know you’re only mocking me.”
Serilda’s pulse had started to flutter. Never had she been so candid with a boy before. A handsome boy, whose touches, no matter how faint, brought her whole body sparking to life. It would be easiest, she knew, to laugh her comment away. Of course she was making it up.
But hecouldbe charming. When he wanted to be.
And she would never forget the feel of his arms around her, comforting her when she needed it most.
“You’re right,” she said. “The evidence suggests that a maiden needn’t be fair at all in order for you to come to her rescue. Which, most confounding, only adds to the mystery.”
The silence that followed was suffocating, and Serilda knew that she waited a heartbeat too long, hoping for what? She wouldn’t admit it even to herself.
