"I'm sorry. But I have glimpsed the creature I might have been, and I was hoping to find the mortal woman I should have been. If only for a moment. But I should've known even simple embraces are against your oath."
"They are"—He set down his lantern and clasped his hands together—"discouraged."
"I shouldn't have asked. My apologies."
He moved before me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Discouraged. Not forbidden."
And just like that, he took me in his arms. Gingerly at first. I had little experience in physical affection, and he was pre sumably out of practice. But it wasn't so complicated. We leaned into each other. His arms circled just above my waist. My hands rubbed his back in small circles. I nuzzled his neck. My hat fell off, and I didn't care.
The shadows ceased muttering at the sight.
Wyst was so warm, and his touch triggered the heat within my cold, undead flesh. The cellar seemed a frozen hollow. My heart beat faster. My skin tingled. My stomach twisted.
This was what my curse denied me. I could savor it for only a moment. The trust. The warmth. The imperceptible made tangible, given form in this man. I suspected nothing could be better than this. Except for possibly ripping out his throat and lapping at the sweet blood gushing forth. Probably not even that.
My stomach rumbled loud as thunder. At least, it seemed so to me. I was reminded of what I was. I pulled away. It wasn't so easy. My arms let go with great reluctance, and I sensed some resistance from Wyst. Or maybe only imagined it.
The invisible mark on his forehead flickered, and I knew I hadn't. Wyst's purity remained intact, but beneath the White Knight was a mortal man. Unfortunately, I'd rediscovered the accursed fiend within me as well.
He said nothing. He turned, picked up his lantern, and stared up the stairs.
"Wyst, thank you."
He paused at the door and spoke so softly I barely heard him over the chattering shadows. "You're welcome."
Then he was gone, and I was left in the basement again. I wasn't alone anymore. On one side hunched the creature I might have been. On the other stood the woman I should have been. In this forsaken place, both were as real as the witch between them, but there was another world atop those stairs. A world where only one of us was true. So I bid them good night and many good tomorrows and ascended from this pit into the night.
The others were camped around the front of the cabin. I followed the sound of irritated quacks. Everyone was waiting there but Wyst, who was nowhere to be seen. But his horse was still here. He couldn't have gone far.
Penelope dragged herself to my side. Her tryst with the road had left her exhausted.
"Enjoy yourself?" I asked.
She raised into the air and bobbed.
"Very good, dear, but you should learn to pace yourself. Now go rest."
No sooner had she floated away then Newt stood before me. He quacked once and glared.
"I vote to leave him like that," remarked Gwurm.
Newt shouted something rude at the troll. Though I was fluent in duck, I didn't bother translating.
"He's been like this all night. Persnickety and foul-tempered. More so than usual. Maybe you should change him back after all."
I waved a hand. Newt belched and instantly began questioning me. Demons don't learn lessons easily. "What did you do to the White Knight? He didn't say a word after coming out of that basement. Strangest look on his face. I don't like it. You shouldn't be consorting with him by yourself. It's dangerous."
I smiled. "Life often is."
"Where's your hat?"
"I must have left it in the cellar." Absently, I ran my fingers through my silken hair. "I don't need it right now." I glanced into the overcast sky, just bright enough for my undead eyes.
New scowled. "And when is the next trial anyway? I'm getting tired of waiting. Does the magic think we have nothing better to do than sit here all night?"
I put a finger to my lips and shushed him. He bit his tongue. I guess he'd learned his lesson after all.
"My apologies, mistress."
"Quite all right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to face the next trial."
"By yourself?" asked Gwurm.
I nodded.
Newt stood in my way. "But, mistress, I'm your familiar. My place is by your side."
"Not this time."
I stepped around the duck.
"What happened to your limp?" he asked.
I hesitated at the edge of darkness. "Oh, that. I don't need that either. Wait here. I'll be back shortly. Or not at all."
I slipped into the night and went in search of my trial. My thoughts were elsewhere, but an omen in the clouds told me I wouldn't be looking for long. It was already waiting for me in the overgrown fields.
Two shadows rose from the grass. One was a skulking ghoul. The other was a slip of a young girl. The creature that I might have been and the woman I should have been. Reflections given substance through powerful sorcery.
"You didn't really think to leave us in that basement?" asked the ghoul.
"We will always be with you," said the woman. "We have always been."
"I know. We all carry many selves, but in the end, these are just phantoms of possibility, nothing more than ghosts of broken destinies."
The ghoul cackled. "Ghosts no more."
"So I see. But even the greatest sorcery can't serve three fates from a single portion of destiny."
"Yes," said the woman. "And that is why only one of us will walk from this field."
"And I shall be that one," hissed the ghoul.
"We shall see, sister," replied the woman.
None of us could kill the other because, at this moment, none were true enough to die. This was why neither Wyst, Newt, nor Gwurm could be of any help. Only I could return my shadows to the nether from which they'd been summoned, and I could only do this by keeping them from snatching away my identity. Reality was on my side. Yet this might not be enough. Reality was a fickle ally at best.
The ghoul struck first. She was my curse unchecked by Ghastly Edna's witchly lessons of patience. The woman stood back, smiling as if victory were already hers.
The ghoul leaped, hands outstretched to wrap around my throat. As if she could throttle her existence from me. As if I could be slain by strangling. Her technique was instinctive and direct, but I was her match in speed. I struck her across the jaw with a backhanded fist. She fell to one knee.
The ghoul raised her head, grinning. Blood dribbled down her chin. "Very good, witch. You stand revealed for what you are. A creature of strength and power. Do you not feel the gush within your undead heart when you call upon your curse? Do you see now that all your magic is just a trifle? It will let you down one day. But your curse, that shall always be there for you. For me."
The ghoul darted to one side faster than I could follow. Raking claws tore open my face. I raised a hand to defend myself, but she ducked aside. Her first attack had been a feint. She was quicker than she'd let on.
A fist smashed into my back and knocked the wind from lungs that didn't really need air. "Surprised, witch? Fast as you are, deadly as you are, I am far deadlier." She latched on to my throat and squeezed until vertebrae cracked. "I am your physical power developed to its ultimate. Beside me, you are a weakling. Where is your magic now?" She dropped me into the grass.
I sat up. My breath was ragged. My face was bloodied, and a terrible rage growled within.
"You can't deny it. You want to be me, to feel the certainty that I feel. To know your purpose without question. To seduce and slaughter and glut yourself on delectable mortal flesh. Your conscience is your misery. It is a burden that I don't have, and a burden you yearn to be rid of."
I was tempted, and I felt my reality trickle into the ghoul. Her murky body thickened as mine darkened. I could see her now. Truly see her. She was a hideous creature, every bit as flawless as I, but there was more to beauty than full breasts and green eyes. Her movements were jerking. Her eyes were full of fiendish hunger. Her lips ever snarled, even as she grinned. Her hair was a shimmering black tangle falling like a cape across her back.