I force myself not to react, not to break his illusion. Rhauk has superior senses, but must never find out Jarrod and I are not really married, nor even lovers. ‘So, now you know the truth, why do you still want me? Why not some innocent girl from the village?’
‘That’s simple, my Lady. I’ve had plenty of those and they bore me. But you, now that I’ve had a taste of your talents, take on new meaning for me. You will make the perfect Queen for Blacklands.’
He unnerves me completely. ‘How-how-how long will I have to stay with you?’
His smirk is an ugly grin. ‘I don’t take you for being naive, Lady Kate. This curse is for eternity. I only want you for the rest of your life.’ His black eyes bore into mine. ‘Sounds fair, don’t you think?’
I snort loudly. ‘What if I don’t agree?’
He shrugs. ‘Oh well, Jarrod will die.’
I can hardly breathe. My chest is aching. How I hate this man. He doesn’t just represent evil, he is evil. Maybe the rumours about him are true, and the devil’s blood does run in his veins.
‘He will come for you,’ he continues smugly. ‘It will be in the form of a challenge. Already he’s been making a nuisance of himself outside the gatehouse. But he is too weak, physically, and well, you know … in his mind.’
‘Jarrod was here?’
He looks bored. ‘He soon understood his pathetic attempts were useless. Not without something stronger than a handful of soldiers. His magic is unknown to his will, unexercised by his mind. His inexperience will be his downfall. That is, if he cares for you enough to make a challenge – one-on-one. Of course, there is always his delightful cousin to amuse him.’
He means Emmeline. Rhauk is still playing his games. I try to ignore this comment by staying silent.
His hand sneaks out and grabs my chin. ‘A challenge is the only way he can draw me out of my castle.’ His fingers are like icy claws. ‘If you accept my offer, my Lady, this boy who plays at being a man is free to return home, unharmed. He is a nuisance. I don’t want him here. But of course he can only leave without you.’
The pewter chalice in my fingers shakes as tremors wash through me. I clutch the goblet with both hands. Rhauk’s fingers drop so I can reply. ‘How do I know you won’t generate this curse whether I stay or not?’
‘You’ll be here to make sure of it.’
As I think about this, he continues explaining, ‘Of course, the fool boy may still decide to challenge me, even after you have convinced him of your desire to stay at Blacklands. Either way I will uphold my end of the bargain. I won’t produce the curse if you stay. It will be up to you to stop Jarrod from issuing the challenge. If he does, then so be it – I will have no choice but to kill him anyway.’
Wordlessly I stare at him. He asks too much. My life, sacrificed to this madman, in exchange for not putting the curse on Jarrod’s family. Either way, Jarrod could still die. Not fair.
Rhauk watches me carefully. ‘I want your answer by sunset. In the meantime, come,’ he offers his elbow. ‘Let me make your decision easier. I will show you Blacklands, the wonder of it, the power that can be ours.’
I shrug off his offer of an elbow, and take a long swig of the wine instead. When the chalice is empty I toss it to the floor.
He seems pleased, a knowing smile slices his face. ‘Ah, that spirit. You present to me my greatest challenge. But you will be mine.’
I hate him even more. But as I have the day to think on his proposition, I decide to make the most of my situation. Maybe the more I see of Blacklands, the better chance I have of spotting its weaknesses. ‘Show me the curse.’
‘Come,’ he says softly, appreciatively.
I follow him down a long dark corridor to a spiral staircase that climbs halfway to heaven. The solar tower is circular, unusual for this period in history, and bright, yet cold and draughty. Windows, many of them, open arched slits, surround us. I start to shiver in my thin nightgown, the chill breeze blowing through to my bones. Rhauk seems oblivious of the icy wind.
My feathery acquaintance, the crow, this one the smaller version, sits perched on a bar suspended on chains from the sharply pointed roof. Rhauk fishes something out from his tunic. The crow nibbles at it, then swallows greedily, inclining its head for a caress from its master as if saying thank you.
I glance around the room, dazed at the chaotic mess. It’s stuffed with benches and haphazard shelves, containers overflowing with powders, crystals and stones of all colours including black obsidian, all shades of red and brilliant blues. There are strange coloured liquids and wizard’s tools – an assortment of bells, wands, a dagger that has an unusually long blade. And of course the traditional work book – the Book of Shadows. There’s an assortment of crude brewing apparatus as well, but I presume it’s sophisticated equipment for this period in time. The floor has small holes and burnt areas where dripping chemical combinations have left their marks, probably during one of many of Rhauk’s experiments.