Bend Her novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: No Lies, One Locked Door

Ansel sets his rules, Linnet sets hers, and her first working lights every candle in the keep.

The iron gate shut behind us with a crash that rang down the hall.

I did not look back at the bridge.

Ansel Rooke walked ahead of us through a hall of black stone, and he did not slow down for my skirts.

Bess kept pace with me and muttered under her breath.

"He's the size of a wardrobe," she said.

"Bess."

"A wardrobe with horns, Princess."

Ansel's ears, which were pointed and furred at the tips, turned toward her.

He did not look around.

He stopped at a door at the top of a spiral stair and put his clawed hand on the wood.

"These are your rooms," he said. "There is a bed, a fire, a bath and a lock on the inside."

"On the inside?" I said.

"On the inside. Nobody in this keep will ever lock a door on you."

I stood very still.

Every door I had ever slept behind had been locked from the other side.

"That is your first rule," he said. "Here are the others."

He leaned one shoulder on the frame and counted them off on his claws.

"You do not lie to me, and I do not lie to you."

"All right."

"You do what I tell you in the training yard without arguing, because the current does not wait for an argument."

"All right."

"And one door in this keep stays locked. The cellar. You will not open it."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That isn't a reason."

"It is the only one you are getting tonight."

I folded my arms.

It was the first time in my life I had folded my arms at anyone.

"What is the last rule?" I said.

His amber eyes dropped to my gloved hands and came up again.

"I do not touch you," he said. "Your brother's seal is on my oath. If I put a hand on you without cause, it burns."

"What counts as cause?"

"If you are falling. If you are bleeding. If a spell is killing you."

"That is a very narrow list."

"It was written by a man who wanted it narrow."

He pushed off the frame.

"Goodnight, Princess."

"Wait."

He stopped with his back to me.

I had spent twelve years of my life being told what I was permitted to want.

I took a breath and said it anyway.

"I have rules too."

He turned around slowly.

"Go on."

"You teach me everything. Not what the king allows, everything. And when Midwinter comes I sit the Trial, and if I pass, I am free. No northern lord. No locked rooms. No litters."

Bess made a strangled noise.

"Who told you about the Trial?" Ansel said.

"Nobody. I heard Gisborne say the word to my brother in the gatehouse."

His mouth moved. It might have been a smile, and it showed one long canine.

"Then you listen better than they think."

"Do we have a bargain?"

"You do not know what you are bargaining for."

"I know I will not go back in the litter."

He studied me for a long time.

Then he said, "Come down to the great hall in one hour. Both of you. Wear something you can move in."

He left.

Bess shut the door and shot the bolt, and then she looked at the bolt and laughed until she had to sit on the bed.

"On the inside," she said. "Princess, it's on the inside."

"I saw."

"He's very rude. I like him."

"You have known him for ten minutes."

"I like rude men who give you keys."

An hour later we stood in the hall.

It was a long room with a floor of black flagstones and a single iron brazier at the far end. A hundred tall candles stood unlit in iron stands along both walls.

Ansel stood in the middle of the floor with his arms crossed.

"The current," he said. "Your people call it magic. It is heat in the hands and a pull behind the ribs. Everyone has a little. Some have a river."

"I do not feel anything."

"You do. You have felt it your whole life, and it has been stopped."

"Stopped by what?"

"That is a question for later."

He walked to the nearest candle and snapped his claws once.

The wick lit.

"Do that," he said.

"Snap my claws?"

"Your fingers. Light that candle."

I snapped my fingers.

Nothing happened.

"Again."

I did it again.

"Again."

On the ninth try I was furious, my palm was throbbing, and Bess was making a face from the wall.

"This is stupid," I said.

"Yes. Do it anyway."

"I cannot feel a pull behind my ribs. I feel nothing but cold."

"Because you are holding your breath."

I let it out.

And something behind my ribs turned over.

It was warm and heavy and it moved like something waking.

I snapped.

Every candle in the hall lit at once.

A hundred flames rose, all as tall as my hand, and the whole great hall went gold.

"Princess," Bess whispered.

I was staring at my palm.

The white scar was glowing.

Ansel made a sound, a short hard breath through his teeth.

I looked up.

Smoke was rising from the iron glove on his right hand.

He went down on one knee on the black stone, and his claws dug into the floor.

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