Noxx's Arc

Chapter 4 of 7

Morning light fell gray through the keep's high windows. Noxx came down the great stair and found Vesper waiting at the bottom. He held a single white rose. His armor still bore the dark skulls, but his face was softer now. "For you," he said. "I want to see who you truly are. Not the woman who hides behind a wraith." Noxx took the rose. She had tested his nerve. She had not tested his heart, and a year was not long. She knew nothing of him but his courage. "Then come," she said. "I will show you." She led him across the cold grounds to a small garden house. Carved pumpkins crowded its windows, their faces glowing orange in the dim shed. Vines twisted over the old wood. Noxx stepped inside and lifted the largest pumpkin from the floor. "Watch," she said. She set the pumpkin on a bale of straw. She held her palm above it and let her magic rise, the power her mother Morgana had passed to her. Heat gathered in her hand. The straw stirred. It gathered into limbs, a torso, two rough legs. The pumpkin split a wide grin and glowed from within. The straw man stood and turned his carved head toward her. "I am Jack Hollow," the scarecrow said. His voice scraped like dry leaves. He looked at Noxx with firelit eyes. "You made me, so you command me." Then he swung toward Vesper, and his grin widened. "A king in my shed. I could frighten him for you, mistress." Noxx watched Vesper. Another suitor would have drawn steel. Another would have fled. Vesper only studied the burning face before him. "You would not be the first thing from the dark to try," he said. He reached out and touched the straw shoulder, unafraid. "She made you well." Jack Hollow tilted his head. "He does not run," he told Noxx, almost disappointed. "No," Noxx said. "He does not." She felt something shift under her ribs. She had shown Vesper her darkest craft, the thing most men feared in her. He had leaned in instead of away. "Why show me this?" Vesper asked. "Because every other man wanted my name and my blood," Noxx said. "None wanted this. You did." She lowered her hand, and Jack Hollow sank back into straw and a hollow pumpkin. The glow died. Vesper stepped close. "I want all of you," he said. "The wraith. The magic. The woman who holds a rose." Noxx's breath caught. For the first time, she wondered if real feeling could grow before her year ran out. The answer was no longer blank. It was a yes, small and fragile, and it frightened her more than her father ever had. She wanted to trust it. She did not yet know if she could.