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Lilja put down the cup. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “I was once Eivor. A very long time ago, that was what my parents named me. I lived in a village. It was very different from Norstad, although I don’t remember much from before.”

“Before?” Alma asked.

“Before I was turned.”

“Just tell us what happened, then. What you do remember?”

Lilja straightened and placed her hands in her lap, one on top of the other. “There was a girl in my village. We were best friends. It was summer, and we went walking in the forest. I had asked her to go pick flowers with me, but… but I was really hoping to kiss her. We went further than we ever had before, and we happened upon a hill. Like a mound but very large. Lilies-of-the-valley grew on its side. We set to picking them. That’s when he appeared.”

Both Helena and Alma bent forward, eyes wide. “Who?”

“Myrkvidar. The dark elf who lived in the mound.”

Alma’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, but Helena gave a sage sort of nod. “Trolls are known to live in mounds.”

“I didn’t know that then,” Lilja said. “He was angry because we stole his flowers. He was…” Her throat clicked when she swallowed. “He was going to take both of us. I pleaded with him to let the other girl go. It was my fault. I had brought us out there. I promised to obey, begged him, and he agreed to take only me.” She closed her fingers around the amber that still hung around her neck. “He’s the one who made me this. It’s like… like a lock. My soul is bound inside the amber.”

“How?” I asked.

Her fingers shook as she unbuttoned the top of her nightgown and pulled it open. On her chest, above her breasts, was the same sign, as if painted on her skin in black ink. “The symbol. He branded me with magic.”

“It’s like the doll,” Alma said.

“Yes, but that came later. Much later, although I… I don’t know how long I was with him, my father. Maybe a hundred years. Maybe two. Maybe many more. Time is different for elves. We don’t age like humans.”

I tightened my hand around my cup. My heart felt as if cleaved in two at hearing her say what some part of me already understood. That she might be like me in one way, but in another she wasn’t at all. That Alma had been right.

“You consider him your father?” Helena asked. She seemed to be the only one of us capable of rational questions.

“Yes. My elf father. He made me. Besides, I remember almost nothing from before. Not my family, not my home, except in little glimpses. Like pieces of a broken mirror.” She shook her head. “Eivor’s gone.”

“That’s why you call yourself Lilja?”

“Yes. It’s… it’s a way to remind myself, I suppose. We should have stayed away from those flowers. It was my fault, but at least I saved that girl. I was made on that hillside, among those lilies-of-the-valley.”

“You were just picking flowers,” I managed. “It’s no sin.”

“It is to an elf. They don’t look kindly on people taking their possessions.”

“Were there others?” Helena said. “With you?”

“Yes. My father had many children. All humans, all girls, he turned when they defied him. I wasn’t alone, but we were all so fearful and homesick. It wasn’t true companionship. It couldn’t be.”

I took a sip of my coffee and so did Lilja. The world was dead quiet. No wind rattled the windows, no chatter reached us from the street. Everyone was asleep because to everyone else this was just another peaceful Christmas night.

Despite the fire in the oven, the parlor was cold, and I noticed Lilja was shaking. I got up and grabbed the new shawl I had given her from where it lay on the windowsill, then wrapped it around her shoulders. She gave me a grateful smile when I sat back down next to her.

“Tell us the rest,” Helena said. “About the doll.”

Lilja pulled the shawl close. “Elves are a lot like humans in one way. They fight. There are two kinds. The light elves who live inside mountains and the dark elves who live underground or in mounds. They hate each other. They’ve been at war for thousands of years.”

“And Alfrun’s a light elf?” Helena asked.

“She’s their queen. The mountain with her court is close to my father’s mound. They were archenemies, if you like.” Lilja’s blinked at her hands. “One day, Alfrun and her kind attacked. It came to a sort of battle, and I let myself get captured. I figured being her prisoner couldn’t be any worse than the life in my father’s earthen halls.”

My voice surprised me when I spoke with how low it was. “But it wasn’t?”

“It was much worse. There were other prisoners. Other dark elves. We were kept far below the court, inside stone chambers. I was always cold, always hungry. It was awful. For a while I wished to simply die.”