Wintersong(20)

“But not everything.” He leaned in close. He was not my size now; he was tall and reed-thin. Had he been an ordinary man, he might have been called lanky. But he was not an ordinary man; he was Der Erlk?nig, possessed of a preternatural grace. Every movement of his body was smooth, fluid, purposeful. He stood by me, hovering over my shoulder, breathing into my neck. “Do you remember, Elisabeth, the little games of chance we used to play?”

Wagers. Constanze said goblin men loved to gamble. If you could trick them into playing with you, they bet everything until they lost.

I recalled the games the Goblin King and I had played, simple enough guessing games with simple enough stakes. Wishes and favors and hopes laid out on the betting table like cards.

Guess which hand holds the golden ring.

I remembered laughing and picking a hand at random.

What will you bet, little Liesl? What will you give up if you lose? What will you gain if you win?

What answer had I given? I was suddenly, terribly, horribly afraid of what young Liesl had been willing to give. What I had unwittingly sacrificed.

“You lost the game.” The Goblin King circled me, a wolf stalking a hart. “You lost every game.”

I never chose right. The prize was never in the hand I thought. Perhaps the game had been stacked against me from the start.

“You promised me something I desperately needed,” he continued, drawing out his syllables into a drawl. “Something only you could give.” His eyes glowed in the dark. “I am a generous soul, Elisabeth, but no man waits forever.”

“And what did I promise?” I whispered.

The Goblin King chuckled, and the sound rippled through my body.

“A wife, Elisabeth. You promised me a bride.”

The word fell between us, a drop of water in a bowl, sending ripples of fear through me. Now the days of winter begin, and the Goblin King rides abroad, searching for his bride.

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “K?the.”

“Yes,” the Goblin King hissed. “I am patient, Elisabeth. I have waited a long time. A long time during which you never came. A long time during which you grew distant. A long time during which you forgot me.”

“I never forgot you.” It was true. If I no longer played pretend, then the memory of Der Erlk?nig remained lodged in my soul. I could no more remove him from my life than I could remove my heart and live.

“No?” He lifted a hand to brush an errant curl from my face, but hesitated. He curled his hand into a fist and dropped it back to his side. “Then you denied me, and that is an even greater betrayal than forgetting.”

I turned my head away, unable to look at him.

“First your father, then you, and now your brother,” he said. “Only Constanze keeps faith with me now. The days of the Wild Hunt draw to a close, and no one heeds its call anymore.”

“I heed it,” I said. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” His voice was almost sad. “It’s too late now, Elisabeth. The game was played, and you are forfeit.”

K?the.

“Where is my sister?” I quavered.

The Goblin King did not respond, but I sensed, rather than saw, the knife-edged smile on his lips.

There was only one place K?the could be. Far beneath the earth, in the realm of Der Erlk?nig and his goblins.

The Underground.

“The game isn’t over,” I said. “You’ve but made the opening gambit.”

This time, I made myself look him directly in the eyes. In the bright moonlight, they were two different colors: one as gray as a winter sky, the other a hazel-green, the color of moss peeking through dead loam. Wolf’s eyes. The Devil’s eyes. He could see into the darkness. He could see into me.

“I chose the wrong hand the first time.” The salt. The audition. Guilt gripped me in a vise; I had chosen Josef over K?the. Again.

His smile grew wider. “Very good.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll play.” I tilted my head back. “I’ll play your game. If I find K?the, you will let my sister go.”

“Is that all?” he said petulantly. “Not much of a game if there’s nothing interesting you’re willing to sacrifice.”

“The rules were simple, so you said. Finders, keepers. You take, I lose. You hide, I find. Whoever fails is the loser. Let’s say … best of three.”

“Very well then.” He huffed his shoulders. “But remember, Elisabeth, our childish games are behind us now.” Those wolf’s eyes glittered. “When I play, I play for keeps. Should you fail to bring your sister back to the world above by the next full moon, she will be lost to you forever.”

I nodded.

“You lost the first round,” the Goblin King said. “You must win the next two in order to win.”

I gave another nod. From Constanze’s stories, I knew how it would go. I had failed to protect my sister from the goblin men. I must not fail to find my way to her in the Underground.

“No tricks,” I said. “No cheating. No taking away my memories. No playing with time.”

The Goblin King tutted. “I make no such promises. You knew the stakes when you chose to engage with me.”

I shuddered.

“However,” he said. “I am generous, after all. I shall promise you one thing, and one thing only. Your eyes will remain open. But you cannot deny me the power to cloud the minds of others as it suits my purposes.”