“Do not think that because you are the Maiden, I will not harm your pretty face,” Trevor hissed.
“If you do, you’ll only be doing yourself a disservice.” Holly tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. She refused to let him see her fear.
“Oh, please.” Trevor rolled his eyes and dragged Holly from her cell.
She looked over her shoulder and caught Loch’s eye. He looked like he was prepared to claw his way out of his cell with his bare hands. Before he could do anything stupid, Holly gave the slightest shake of her head. Loch appeared to simmer down but only a little.
Trevor led Holly down one of the rock tunnels. The only light came from torches crackling with real fire. Hadn’t these idiots ever heard of a flashlight, or were they just too committed to their aesthetic to use practical forms of lighting?
Before long, they came to a metal door. Trevor pushed inside, dragging Holly behind him, though she wasn’t struggling. She didn’t see the point. He was far stronger than her, and she didn’t know the way out.
Inside the room, there was nothing more than one simple wooden table surrounded by eight simple wooden chairs. All were empty except for one.
A woman sat in the chair farthest from the door. Her face was set in a permanent scowl. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face. Intricate braids adored the top and sides of her head. She wore dark jeans, sturdy hiking boots, and a simple gray, long-sleeved shirt. She had the same facial structure as Trevor, but Holly didn’t recall seeing her face on the mural of family trees.
“This is the Maiden?” The woman looked at Holly with a critical eye. “She doesn’t look like much.”
“Did you expect her to be in robes of silk, emitting an otherworldly glow?” Trevor shot back. He pulled out a chair and motioned for Holly to sit.
It wasn’t a suggestion. Holly knew a command when she saw one. She settled into the stiff chair, refusing to look at Trevor or the mysterious woman.
“I expected…” the woman paused to think of the right word, “more.”
Holly had half a mind to be offended. Had that woman ever been part of an ancient and confusing prophecy? Probably not. Who was she to say Holly wasn’t enough of whatever she needed to be?
“I’m certain she’ll live up to our expectations, Elise.”
The woman, Elise, said nothing. Instead, she kept her gaze trained on Holly.
“Why did you bring me to this room?” Holly asked. “What are you going to do here that you couldn’t do in my cell?”
“Are you saying you’re ungrateful to leave your cell?” Trevor walked around the table, arms folded over his chest, until he was directly across from Holly. He slid into a chair. His eyes bored into her. Holly could see his pale eye, the color of fresh snow, as clear as day. His other eye, the dark one, looked like nothing more than a shadowy hole in Trevor’s eye socket. The only way she could tell that he did, in fact, have two eyes, was by the way the dark one glinted in the light.
“I find it hard to be grateful for anything these days,” Holly muttered.
“And here I thought the Maiden was supposed to be humble,” Trevor tutted.
“Why am I here?” Holly ignored his barb.
“You’re here to answer my questions,” Trevor replied.
Elise stayed silent. She had to be Trevor’s sister. Maybe a cousin. They were obviously related. Her skin was more olive in tone, and her hair was a deeper shade of brown, almost black.
“What questions?”
“Do you hear the voice of the Maiden?” Elise spoke up.
How could anyone know about that? Had they overheard her conversations with Loch? She rarely talked about the voice of the Maiden, but what was she supposed to do? Not talk about the phantom voice in her head?
“No.”
“Liar,” Elise hissed.
“Prove it.”
Holly’s gall caught Elise off guard. She was halfway out of her seat when she paused.
“Excuse me?”
“Prove that I hear the Maiden’s voice,” Holly repeated. “Better yet, can you even prove that I am the Maiden?”
“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t,” Trevor snapped.
“How do you figure?”
“The three who reside in your grandmother’s estate—the other firstborn sons—they would go to great lengths to protect you. Why else would they do that if you were not the Maiden of legend?”
“Because they aren’t total dicks,” Holly muttered. “Any halfway decent human being would offer help if they knew some creepy dudes were skulking around in the woods, creeping on their friend’s granddaughter.”
“I should cut out your tongue for your insolence.” Elise procured a needle-like blade from her hiking boot.
“Sister.” A warning rumbled through Trevor’s voice. “That’s not the way to get any good information out of anyone.”
“You say that now,” Elise smirked, “but ask me again when she’s writhing in pain.”
Holly felt the color drain from her face as her stomach wound itself into knots.
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“You must have heard the voice. The stars, the runes, and the bones all say you should be hearing the voice by now,” Trevor insisted.
Stars? Runes? Bones? What the hell did all that mean?
“How can I hear the voice of someone I’m supposed to be?” Holly replied. “Isn’t that just called thinking? If you want to know if I’ve been thinking, yes, I have. If you want to know what I’m thinking, prepare to be insulted.”
“We have read from ancient scrolls found in the cave of the first bear clan who started recording our history that the Maiden is a formless entity that chooses a host. Is that true?”
“Wait.” Holly blinked in surprise. “You’re coming to me
