“What about me?” I asked.
Ofelia tightened her dirty-fingered hold of the reins.
I turned from her and withdrew my coin. It glowed more fiercely than before and the silver was warm. I inspected the Moon Lady’s profile. She was achingly beautiful and I felt her siren call.
“Will you sacrifice me?” I asked aloud.
“What?” Ofelia asked.
No, a voice spoke within my mind. You’re already mine. Come, my Darkling, come to me.
With growing unease, I looked up at the battlements. This was an edifice of sorcery. It was alien to Tuscany and brought blight upon the land. Yet my lost memories lay in there, I was certain of that now.
I laughed harshly at Ofelia. “You little wretch, you’re taking me to my death. A knight, squire and page, they were men. All the corpses you’ve taken have been men. You’re safe because you’re a woman. You have no intention of paying me three thousand florins.”
Ofelia shook her head, although she kept hunched with the reins wrapped around her fists. She refused to look at me.
“You’re still enraged at Ox’s death,” I said. “And what did you say before? You always have a plan. Well, madam, you’re in for a surprise. Three thousand florins are what you owe. Before we part, you’ll pay me in full.”
“Of course,” she whispered. “It’s what I promised.”
The road leveled out and led to a tall black gate. Ofelia drew rein before it and I jumped down. The wood seemed like petrified rock and hardly thumped as I knocked. Yet the door opened, although there was no one I could see who had moved it. I climbed back onto the wagon. To my gratification, Ofelia looked at me with wondering eyes.
Once past the gate, the mules clopped upon stone and the wagon’s creaks seemed oddly muted. A moonlike glow bathed our way; the glow came from the lava-like walls. Ofelia kept glancing at me, and her face was one of confusion.
“That is far enough.”
The mules snorted in surprise. Ofelia made a squeal of sound and yanked the reins, although that was unnecessary. The mules had already stopped.
A woman in a shimmering robe stood before us. Shadows hid her face and she kept her hands hidden in the folds of her sleeves. Her sandaled feet, her toes, stuck out from under the hem of her long robe. The toes seemed like molten silver.
“Priestess,” Ofelia whispered. “I–I have-”
“Yes,” the priestess said. “I see what you’ve brought. Lay them on the boards.”
Ofelia turned to me, although I noticed she couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Ox unloaded them before,” I said. I jumped down and began depositing the dead onto wooden boards. We were in a courtyard and there were shadowed arches all around. When the last corpse bumped its head on the wood, the priestess approached Ofelia. A silver-colored hand passed up two heavy sacks. The small gravedigger grunted with effort and thumped each sack at her feet on the buckboard. Each clinked with coins.
The priestess backed away and I approached Ofelia.
“Three thousand florins,” I said.
With a savage smile, Ofelia glanced at the priestess. “He’s his own man,” she said. “I do not claim him.”
The priestess nodded.
“Consider the unloading as gratis,” I told Ofelia.
Ofelia waited. She seemed expectant, but slowly her smile lost its breadth. Soon, she frowned.
I laughed. Ox had likely been immune from enchantment because he had been Ofelia’s servant. That’s why Ofelia had just said that I was on my own. Clearly, she expected my demise, and that would free her from having to pay her debt. She was a clever if bloodthirsty little gravedigger.
Ofelia’s mouth hardened. She yanked open a sack and began counting coins. When she opened the second sack, she shook with rage. She shot the priestess an accusatory look.
“Why should I come back if there are no profits?” Ofelia spat.
“How you spend your money is your own affair,” the priestess said.
“He’s a man!” Ofelia shouted.
“He’s the Darkling,” the priestess said in her calm manner. “He is beloved of the Moon Lady.”
The words made me shiver. I did not like them.
“You’re one of them?” Ofelia whispered in horror.
“Keep counting,” I said.
Ofelia paled, and she counted faster. When she’d finished, she tied her single depleted sack and turned her wagon around. She hunched in fear, shook the reins and took her creaking, squealing vehicle away. She never glanced back or waved goodbye.
— 9-
“Why did you stay away so long?” the priestess asked.
I’d followed her into a nearby chamber. Silver water spewed from a fountain and tinkled like chimes into a wide basin. Shadowed archways tempted me with mystery; we’d moved in a maze to arrive at this chamber. I was determined to learn as much as possible before I decided on my next move.
The priestess regarded me from within her hood. It was full of shadows, and I began to wonder if she lacked features.
“We’ve waited a long time for your arrival,” she said.
“We?” I asked.
She laughed softly. “The Moon Lady and her maenads.”
I nodded.
“You’re filthy from your journey,” she said. “You must bathe and don proper clothing. Then we can complete the ceremony.”
“Which one is that?”
“Your pledge of soul.”
“Ah,” I said.
“Do I detect hesitation?”
“Madam,” I said. “If you detect hostility, it’s because of the rush of events. I’ve just arrived after a painful journey. It has taken much longer than I anticipated. Certainly, I desire a bath and garments worthy of my station. Then I must gather myself and learn what has transpired in my absence.”
“You serve at the Moon Lady’s bidding,” she said.
I inclined my head even as I plotted. If I had pledged service to evil before, I would foreswear myself in an instant. Had I somehow brought this state upon myself?
“Surely you understand the concept of pledging,” the priestess said. “As prince, you must have often taken fealty. Is that the correct term?”
“It is,” I said, wondering that she needed to ask.
“Do you have the coin?”
“It’s secure.”
The priestess inclined her head. Then she laughed in her superior manner. “You’re playing a role. No. You no longer need pretend here. You’re the Darkling, the Moon Lady’s chosen instrument. These are dangerous times. One misstep…well, I needn’t tell you about that. Old Father Night’s minions abound and they’ve waxed powerful on death. They are fat with spells and they’ve become bloated with arrogance.”
“Magi Filippo learned about the folly of arrogance,” I said.
“Who?”
“A minion of the Lord of Night, the one patrolling around your castle.”
“That one,” the priestess said, with a flick of her fingers. “He was a gadfly.”
“Ofelia feared-”
“Yes!” the priestess said. “Why did you ride in with her? I fail to grasp the need.”
I smiled because I had no idea how to respond.
“Have a care,” the priestess warned. “You may be the Darkling, but the Moon Lady will punish you if you snub her maidens.”
“Madam, there is no snub intended. I thought it obvious why I rode in with the gravedigger.” Nobody liked to be thought a fool. They even less liked to look like one. I suspected priestesses of the Moon were no exception, nor was I wrong.
“Hm,” she said. “I see. I suppose you thought it clever.”
I allowed myself a broader smile.
“Yes,” she said, “and you wished to strike back at Erasmo della Rovere.”
My features stiffened and I took a menacing step closer.
The priestess chuckled. “Did you think I didn’t know?”
Guile, guile, I needed to use guile. I nodded brusquely.
“He suspects, of course,” the priestess said. “Why otherwise leave a minion on patrol?”
“Magi Filippo?” I asked.
“It’s a false name. We both know that.”
“Yes,” I said. “He called himself Filippo and wore a medallion of the Cloaked Man.”