“But why would you want to take such a task upon yourself? I had thought there was no love lost between you and the otherone.”
The djinn trailed a fingertip down the neck of the bottle, her gaze averted. For an instant, Rolfe thought her much older than he had originally believed. “There was a time when we were close,” she said. “I owe her noless.”
Then the djinn shot a glance Rolfe’s way. “Annelise is a most clever woman. I should hope you appreciatethat.”
“Yes.” Rolfe felt a glow ofpride.
“Which is why the result is all the more tragic,” the djinn said, kindling Rolfe’s fearagain.
“Tragic? What do you mean? Whatresult?”
“I granted her a wish,” the djinn confessed. “It was only fitting after what she had done, but truly, I could never have guessed what she would have asked me to do.” Her gaze was fixed upon Rolfe with a steadiness that told him she had finally arrived at herpoint.
“What did she ask?” His voice was no more than awhisper.
“She chose to become a stag of such beauty that the hunters were distracted from their intent to killyou.”
The breath left Rolfe’s lungs in shock. Not Annelise! He stared at the snow surrounding him without comprehending what hesaw.
It was only too easy to recall the dogs and hunters in pursuit of that stag. Rolfe remembered his own sense that there was something enchanted about the stag to so snare their interest. He thought of the stag disappearing from view as the hounds attacked for the kill and turned away from the djinn. His mouth was dry and he feltraw.
The stag, which was truly Annelise, had beenkilled.
Rolfe was devastated. His future no longer possessed any promise. His recovery from the spell was no longer an event to celebrate, for the one person with whom he might have rejoiced was lost to himforever.
“She traded her life for mine,” hewhispered.
“Indeed!” the djinn confirmed, with an enthusiasm that Rolfe found inappropriate. He turned to watch her, incredulous that she could be so cheerful. It was evident that djinns had not hearts at all. “The power of love, of sacrifice, was what ended yourcurse.”
“But Annelise is dead!” Rolfe said, his voice rising in anger. “How can you be so indifferent to her fate? She gave her life formine!”
“Annelise made her choice,” the djinn replied. She pivoted and began to walk away. “As we all must make ourown.”
Rolfe pursued her. “Is there not something we can do? Can you not make anotherspell?”
The djinn glanced over her shoulder and her expression was inscrutable. “What is done is done,” she said. “You must make your peace withit.”
“This is unfair!” Rolfe roared. “It was not Annelise’s curse, nor her battle! Why should she be compelled to pay theprice?”
The djinn shook her head. “I have told you already that she chose her path. There is nothing else to be done.” She lifted her chin. “Perhaps you will be glad to see the last of djinns in yourlife.”
Then she snapped her fingers and disappeared in a puff of rosysmoke.
She wasgone.
Annelise wasgone.
And Rolfe was more alone than he had ever been in his life. He walked back to Mephistopheles like a man in adream.
He would never again hear Annelise’slaughter.
It was humbling that she had given her all just to see the curse upon himbroken.
Rolfe caught his breath, realizing his own mistake. He had never told her that he loved her. Annelise had been denied the one gift he might have given her. Love was the sole thing that Annelise valued and a marriage of love was her one desire. He had never confessed his love for her, thus denying her thatpleasure.
Because he had been afraid to trust herfully.
Rolfe was a knave of the lowestorder.
