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“Let me go.” I tried to pry away his fingers but couldn’t budge them.

He grinned at me, amused at my attempts. “I’ll let you go when you give me the baby. Then you can go back to creating gold to your heart’s content.”

I couldn’t use strength to get away, so I decided to stall him. If we stayed here long enough, Hudson would come back. He had the anti-fairy sand. Maybe he could use it to free me. “How did you catch up to me so fast?” I asked. “Our horses raced here and no enemies could see the carriage.”

“Catch up to you?” Rumpelstiltskin smiled, showing his graying teeth. “Did you think I followed you?” He shook his head, and the 303/356

wreath let out a scent of decaying wood. “No point in that. Not when I knew you would return to your family eventually. My mirror still shows me where your father is. I waited near his camp and lo, tonight the trees were whispering about a carriage lumbering through.

Enemies might not be able to see your carriage, but trees can. I was on my way to your carriage when I found you on the path.” He pulled me closer to him. “Now then, give me what you promised.” I shrank back as far as his grip would allow. “We made an agreement for King John’s son. I never married him.” With his free hand, Rumpelstiltskin pulled a paper from his cloak.

“This is our contract—the very words we shook on.” He placed it in my hand, and the paper immediately wrapped itself around my arm like a snake. I tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t let go. Pulsating, it clung to me, then sunk into my skin so the words looked like they had been tattooed onto my arm.

Rumpelstiltskin watched it and laughed. “The contract is binding.

You agreed to give me whatever I asked for within the year—including your child.” He pointed his long fingers at the sling. “And there he is.

Give him to me.”

I held onto the sling with my free arm, trying to keep Rumpelstiltskin from taking the baby. In the fairy tale, the queen cried so piteously that Rumpelstiltskin allowed her to guess his name within three days. If she was successful, she could keep the child. I didn’t have to force myself into the part. I couldn’t bear to think of Rumpelstiltskin taking my baby and leaving him to die alone in a vault. The tears and the fear came in equal measure, making it hard to speak over my sobs. “Please don’t take him. I didn’t think I would have him when we made our bargain. It isn’t his fault.” I had nothing to offer Rumpelstiltskin in exchange except my own life. “Take me instead. Please.

Please.” I couldn’t say more. The tears choked my words.

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Rumpelstiltskin let go of my arm. “Do not flee again,” he said.

“I’ve never hunted down prey like a lion, and what if I discovered I liked it? What would happen to all the innocents that walk through the forest? You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?” I gave a small shake of my head. I couldn’t run and hide among the trees, not with sparklers flowing from my head—but I couldn’t see without the light. Besides, the trees could tell him where I was anyway.

“Please,” I begged. “Give me another chance to keep my baby.” Rumpelstiltskin reached over and ran his bony thumb over my cheek. “Such compelling supplications from a fair maiden.” He leaned closer. His eyes were not brown as I had thought before. They were a deep burgundy, like drying blood. “I’m moved,” he said. “I won’t pretend I’m not.” His hand went to my chin, and he cupped it between his cold fingers. “You want a chance to get out of this bargain?”

“Yes,” I said hurriedly.

“Perhaps you would like to make some sort of wager?”

“Yes.” My hopes rose. This is when he would ask me the question, and I already knew the answer.

He dropped his hand away from my chin and smiled at me. “Do you know how I passed the time while I hid near your father’s camp?” I shook my head, tears still flowing down my cheeks. I know your name, I thought. Ask me so I can save my baby.

Rumpelstiltskin’s voice dropped to a low hum, as though telling me a secret. “I read. Would you like to see what?” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a book. I recognized it with a sick thud to my chest. It was the book of fairy tales my father had brought from our house.

Rumpelstiltskin held the book up, opened to the end of his story.

The picture showed the queen smugly holding her baby while the 305/356

dwarf figure representing Rumpelstiltskin raised a fist in defeated anger.

He snapped the book shut. “Interesting story, though truly I can’t imagine myself flying off anywhere on a cooking spoon. Too undigni-fied, really.”

I breathed hard. My ears rang with fear. I couldn’t speak.

Rumpelstiltskin brandished the book at me. “My fate was already decided by the fay folk. They wrote this story and gave it to you, didn’t they? It’s instructions on how you were to deal with me.” I shivered and couldn’t stop. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. What had I done when I changed the story? What could I do now?

His smile turned to a grimace. “I found their book and I don’t intend to follow their script. You already know my name. I won’t be tricked into asking you that question. In fact, I won’t ask you anything at all.” He tossed the book to the ground in disgust. It lay there like a wounded animal, its pages blowing limply in the breeze. “I will make no bargains with you. Give me the babe.” I took a step backward. This was happening too fast. Hudson probably hadn’t even reached Robin Hood’s camp yet. He wouldn’t be able to help me.

“Chrissy!” I called. “Chrissy, help!” If ever I needed a fairy godmother to show up, it was right now.

But there was no sign of her. No glimmering, no fountain of lights.

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. “By law, she can’t interfere with another fairy’s bargain. And besides, Chrysanthemum Everstar is only a chit of a fairy anyway.” He paused, his gaze sliding around the forest, checking to make sure she really hadn’t come. When he saw we were alone, he smiled again. “Fairy girls, like mortal girls, are best suited for growing flowers and having babies. You’ve done admirably in that regard. I was expecting to have to wait nine months for you to produce 306/356

an heir. It’s so considerate of you to come up with one sooner. Was it dark magic or just incompetent magic that made it so?” I didn’t answer. Rumpelstiltskin had been close enough to my baby that he could have reached into the sling and grabbed him, but he hadn’t. Perhaps the spell wouldn’t work if Rumpelstiltskin took the baby from someone, perhaps the baby had to be given. I wouldn’t do it. “Our contract was made under duress,” I told him, taking another step backward, “and technically I didn’t give birth to this baby in the time period we agreed on, so the contract isn’t valid.” I wiped at the words that clung to my arm. They didn’t come off.

“I still have magic,” he said. “Enchantments I’ve taken from trolls and goblins. Did you know trolls can turn things into stone?” He took a step toward me, grinding his graying teeth. “Chrysanthemum may have told you that I can’t take the child by force, but that doesn’t mean I can’t turn you to stone and lift the child from your arms. In fact, I should turn you both to stone and you can keep your babe company for eternity. Either way will break the spell. I bought love that can’t be bought. All that’s left now is to take the baby to the vault.” To emphasize his threat, Rumpelstiltskin put a hand on a nearby tree and chanted, “Oak tree, stone, stone, stone.” Underneath his fingertips, a gray color grew and spread, simultaneously rushing down to the ground and up through the branches.