'Is she… lost?' Nix asked.
'I think maybe,' Egil said sadly.
'It's worse the first time,' she muttered repeatedly. 'Always worse the first time.'
'Grandma…' Nix said.
She looked up between the gaps in her fingers. 'Don't hurt me. Don't hurt an old woman.'
At first Nix felt a surge of scorn, but it gave way to pity when he thought of Mamabird, thought of the pulsing doors of his dreams, the blood and screams, and what the poor woman must have endured in her youth.
'We won't hurt you, grandma.'
'Of course we won't,' Egil said. 'You've been hurt enough.'
She looked up at them, uncomprehending.
Nix kneeled to look into her face. 'We're going to Dur Follin and we're taking Rusilla and Merelda. They can make their own lives there, free of… all this. You can come with us, if you wish.'
She stared at him as if she didn't understand. Perhaps she didn't. Nix and Egil had destroyed the foundation of her world, as depraved and terrible as it had been.
'Do you hear me, grandma?'
Finally, she said, 'This is my home. My son lives here with me. I can't leave. The Pact must be honored.'
Nix did not bother to tell her that she no longer had a son, that the Pact was among the most depraved things Nix had ever seen. He looked up at Egil, who shrugged. Nix went to put his hand on the old woman's shoulder but she recoiled and he kept his touch to himself.
'You needn't ever be hurt by man or devil again,' he said to her. 'Pact or no Pact. Do you understand? Never again.'
She looked past him, through him. 'We are Norristru and we will honor the Pact. Rakon will honor it, preserve the line. House Thyss will be satisfied. We can rebuild our wealth…'
She went on like that for a time and Nix finally stood, shaking his head. She was what Norristru men had made her. Nix could not unmake her with his words; they had no such magic.
It was time to leave.
Bearing Rusilla and Merelda in their arms, they walked into and out of the Norristru manse. Nix was pleased to get out of the pain-haunted halls. They pretended not to hear Rakon's screams that carried through the cracked plaster on the walls.
The moment they stepped out under open sky, under Minnear's ghostly light, Nix swore.
'What is it?' Egil asked, turning, his free hand on a hammer haft.
Nix looked down at his feet. 'I'm fakking barefoot.'
Egil chuckled. Nix waited while the priest circled the grounds for a stable. He returned presently with saddled horses. They mounted the horses, Egil with Merelda, Nix with Rusilla. Nix felt awkward with his body pressed against Rusilla's, the smell of her hair in his nose. He reminded himself of recent events and banished all thoughts from his mind but the purest.
They spoke little as they rode away from the manse, heading for Zelchir's Fall, and from there, back to Dur Follin. After an hour of riding, the sisters could speak clearly, though their bodies were still mostly paralyzed by the drugs.
'Will the city be safe for you two?' Nix asked them.
'It's a big city,' Merelda said. Her voice was lilting, musical. The sound of it made Nix smile.
'The Lord Mayor will be free of my brother's spells for the first time in years,' Rusilla said. 'When he realizes my brother had enspelled him…'
'Rakon will never enter Dur Follin again,' Merelda said. 'Oh, Rose! We're free.'
'We are, Mere. At last.'
'You will help us get situated when we arrive in the city,' Rusilla said to Nix.
Nix chuckled, looked to Egil. 'She gives orders like a noblewoman. And this time with her lips instead of her mind.'
'Speaking of,' Egil said, 'how much of this did you plan from the beginning?'
'As much as I could,' Rusilla answered.
'And how much of what we did was you and not us?' Egil asked her.
She looked off to the side and smiled, a secretive look. She was striking in profile, a strong jaw and regal nose. 'Does it matter?'
'It matters,' Nix said.
'Why?' she asked softly.
It mattered because he wanted to be that kind of man, not be made to behave like that kind of man. It mattered because he wanted to believe that the difference between him and Rakon Norristru was a gulf of moral sense, not opportunity and circumstances.
'It just does.'
'Aye,' Egil answered.
Rusilla was silent a long time. Minnear had vanished from the sky. Finally she said, 'I don't know how much was me and how much was you. You have to answer that for yourself.'
