‘You do not understand... she must have a companion.’ He drifted in and out of the present moment, looking about him in confusion.
‘Papa, calm yourself. Are you in pain?’ I refilled the glass of water by his bed, checked the bottle of laudanum. ‘We have been so worried for you. The doctor says you will recover, though it may take time.’
I fed him a small glass of diluted laudanum and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. When he was settled I considered my words. He was the only person here who knew something of the Witch’s secret and I could not leave without taking this chance to ask him – but now, sitting before him, I remembered the way he could sew my lips shut with a look.
‘Why are you here?’ he asked again.
‘I received a letter from Klara about your fall. Of course I came.’
‘I see my daughters all defy my orders.’
That stilled my hand. ‘You ordered her not to write to me?’
‘It is too dangerous. If you left the Witch...’
‘I thought you would be happy to see me,’ I said to cover my hurt. ‘Don’t you want to know how I am? What my life is like there?’
His gaze landed on me and I realised he looked at me in the same way the townspeople did. Caution, and fear. I thought again of Wolf and the Witch talking in the kitchen, of her strangled, animal tenseness as she watched me go.
‘You know why she takes us,’ I said slowly. ‘You don’t care what I could tell you, because you already know.’
Fear leeched into his face. ‘If she does not have you she will need somebody else. If you have tried toescape, then the scope of her anger frightens me to think about.’
‘I told you. She let me go. She trusts me to come back.’
He gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Shetrustsyou? I thought you understood how serious this was, the duty you took on. You must return at once.’
‘If I don’t?’
‘Mina.’
‘If it is so desperate a situation, then why not simply tell me what is at stake?Why, Papa?’
He took my hand and at first I thought he meant to comfort me, but his grip was too tight and I felt my bones grind against each other. ‘Mina, you do not understand what you risk by being here. Do not force me to say, because it is better for you that I remain silent. But listen to me. You cannot. Stay.’
I wrenched my hand back, cradled it against my chest.
‘I am not yours to command any more,’ I said. ‘You ended that when you gave me over to the Witch.’
‘Then I ask you not as your father, but as your duke. You must go back.’
The relief I had felt at seeing him well had soured, and now all I felt was an extreme exhaustion. I had already made up my mind to go, but his rejection was the hand at the small of my back, ushering me out of the door.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘I will go at dawn.’
By the light of my candle, I passed through the darkened hallways to my room. The dustsheets had been hastily folded away and fresh bedding put out; my carpetbag was set on the dresser. Another last night at home, so different from the first. I thought of my Witch in her castle, terrified I would leave her, and my father on his sick bed, frightened I would stay.
I lay awake a long time watching the flame burn down the wax.
The Witch’s carriage still waited in the stables when I checked the yard the next morning, the horses in their harnesses and the driver perched in his seat, as though they’d known my decision before me.
My carpetbag took ten minutes to pack.
Leaving my father would take a little longer.
I waited around a corner until I heard my stepmother leave, then went to my father’s bedside once more.
‘I’m going back, as you asked.’
