Hug. Kiss. A murmur into strawberry hair, “I know what you see in the dark. You’re the bravest person I know.”
And then, leaving a stunned Bonnie behind, Elena went to collect spectators for her own whipping.
Elena had been tied, like someone in a B-movie who will soon be released, standing upright against a pillar. Digging on the field was still going on in a dilatory way as the vampires who had put her up to this fetched an ash stick they had brought, and allowed Damon to inspect it. Damon himself was moving in slow motion. Trying to find points to kibitz about. Waiting for the rattling of coach wheels that would tell him the carriage was back. Acting brisk, but inside feeling as sluggish as half-cooled lead.
I’ve never been a sadist, he thought. I’ve always tried to give pleasure — except in fights. But it should be me in that prison cell. Can’t Elena see that? It’s my turn beneath the lash now.
He had changed into his “magician clothes,” taking as long as he dared without looking as if he wanted to put this off. And now there were somewhere between six and eight hundred creatures, waiting to see Elena’s blood spill, to watch Elena’s back cut and miraculously heal again.
All right. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to do this.
He came into his body, into the now of what was happening.
Elena swallowed. “Share the pain” she’d said — without in the least knowing how to do it. But here she was, like a sacrifice tied to a pillar, staring at Bloddeuwedd’s house and waiting for the blows to come.
Damon was giving the crowd an introductory speech, talking gibberish and doing it very well. Elena found a particular window of the house to stare at. And then she realized that Damon was no longer speaking.
A touch of the rod against her back. A telepathic whisper.
Bonnie’s mind floating into hers. Meredith’s mind flowing like a stream. The blow was a mere cuff, although Elena felt blood spill.
She could feel Damon’s bewilderment. What should have been a sword slash was a mere slap. Painful, but definitely bearable.
And once again. The triumvirate portioned out the pain before Damon’s mind could receive it.
Keep the triangle moving. And a third.
Two more to go. Elena allowed her gaze to wander over the house. Up to the third floor where Bloddeuwedd had to be enraged at what had become of her party.
One more to go. The voice of a guest coming back to her.
Elena hadn’t known and still could still hardly imagine what might be forbidden
In her library, Bloddeuwedd, a single, lonely figure, moved in the brilliantly lighted great sphere to find a new orb. Inside the house music would be playing, different music in each different room. Outside, Elena could hear nothing.
The last blow. The triumvirate managed to handle it, allotting agonizing pain amongst four people. At least, Elena thought, my dress was already as red as it could be.
And then it was over, and Bonnie and Meredith were quarrelling with some of the vampire ladies who wanted to help bathe the blood from Elena’s back, showing it once again unblemished and perfect, glowing golden in the sunlight.
Although there was clapping and cheering everywhere, no one had thought to untie Elena’s wrists. So she stood leaning against the pillar, gazing at the library.
And then the world froze.
All around her was music and motion. She was the still point in a turning universe. But she had to get moving, and fast. She yanked hard at her bonds, lacerating herself.
“Meredith! Untie me! Cut these ropes, quick!”
Meredith obeyed hastily.
When Elena turned, she knew what she would see. The face — Damon’s face, bewildered, half-resentful, half-humble. It was good enough for her, right then.
But then they were engulfed by a riot. Well-wishers, fans, skeptics, vampires begging for “a tiny taste,” gogglers who wanted to make sure that Elena’s back was real and warm and unmarked. Elena felt too many hands on her body.
All right, Elena thought. I’ll do it alone. I can do it alone. For Stefan, I can.
She shouldered her way through the crowd, accepting bunches of hastily dug-up flowers from admirers — and feeling more hands on her body.
And then she was running, running into the house, not bothering to use the door that was near to Saber’s barking place. She thought she knew what was there anyway.
On the second floor she spent a minute being bewildered before seeing a thin red line in nothingness. Her blood! See how many things it was good for? Right now it highlighted the first of the glass steps for her, the one she had stumbled into before.
And at that time, cradled in Damon’s strong arms, she hadn’t been able to imagine even crawling up these steps. Now she channeled all the Power she had into her eye nodes — and the stairs lit up. It was still terrifying. There were no handholds on either side, and she was woozy from excitement, fear, and loss of blood. But she forced herself up, and up, and up.
She could hear the cry as if Stefan were beside her now.
Up, up, up…
Her legs ached.
Keep going. No excuses. If you can’t walk, hobble. If you can’t hobble, crawl.
She was crawling as she finally reached the top, the edge of the nest of the owl Bloddeuwedd.
At least it was still a pretty, if insipid-looking, maiden who greeted her. Elena realized at last what was wrong with Bloddeuwedd’s looks. She had no animal vitality. She was, at heart, a vegetable.
“I am going to kill you, you know.”
No, she was a vegetable with no heart.
Elena glanced around her. She could see outside from here, although in between was the dome that was made of shelves and shelves upon shelves of orbs, so everything was weirdly distorted.
There were no hanging creepers here, no flagrant displays of exotic, tropical blooms. But she was already in the center of the room, in Bloddeuwedd’s owl nest. Bloddeuwedd was nowhere near it; she was on the contraption that let her reach her star balls.
The key could only be buried in that nest.
“I don’t want to steal from you,” Elena promised, breathing hard. Even as she spoke, she plunged two arms into the nest. “Those kitsune played a trick on both of us. They stole something of mine and put the key to it in your nest. I’m just taking back what they put in.”
“Ha! You — human slave! Barbarian! You dared to violate my private library! People outside are digging up my beautiful ballroom, my precious flowers. You think you’re going to get away again this time, but you’re not!
