At that, Pa’s bushy white brows knitted. “And have you been this… creature’s wife in every sense of the word?”

Cheeks sucked between my molars, I nodded. “Not a creature, Pa. A god. And… I gave my vow.”

“And before this terrible god coaxed this vow from you, for we all know of his cruelties…” There was a heavy pause as he held the needle into the fire, sending a shudder across my back. “Has he touched you? Has he… forced himself on you?”

I flinched twice.

Once at his question, the second time when the hook needle poked my skin, thread squeaking through the flesh around a weeping cut on my cheek.

Between the drafty gaps in the daub and the old straw in the mattress of my simple home here in Hemdale, the answer would have been yes. But nothing was simple about Enosh or how I’d gone from captive to wife to… to lover? Where had my obedience ended? Where had my cravings begun? What if I’d welcomed the desire in his touch, his attentions, using his power as a convenient way to wash my hands of sin and call it insanity?

Pa stroked my hair back. He must have read the confusion on my face, and that shamed me deeply.

I forced a smile. “Enosh said he would open his gates and rot the dead the day I loved him.”

“Sounds to me like something the devil would say. And a pact with him is what you got yourself into.”

My stomach clenched. “King. God. Devil. He brought rot to the girl Anna, and he agreed to do the same for all the children in these lands. Does that account for nothing?”

“My child, I simply don’t know what to make of this.” Pa sighed as he cut the thread with a sharp blade. He wiped a cold, wet cloth over the wound before the room filled with the balmy traces of marigold salve, which he dabbed onto my cheek. “John was bad enough. Oh, I never forgave myself for agreeing to his bride’s price. Can a father be concerned for his—” A cough cut through his words, leaving a speck of blood on the corner of his mouth. “I worry about you.”

“I know.” But I worried about him more, and how his chest now vibrated with a constant rattle, as though blood collected in his lungs. “This morning, Enosh took me with him to stand by his promise. Soldiers attacked us. Maybe the corpses he raised put them on our tail. Maybe they’d watched the Æfen Gate all along. Who can say?”

“Ever since people reported his sighting, High Priest Dekalon issued all villages and towns to supply a militia for his capture for he would surely emerge again.”

Something I’d warned Enosh about, but neither the god nor I had expected such force. “They used fire as though they knew what his weakness was, just like in that book someone told me about. I’d bet a silver coin that the Hight Priest knows exactly what Enosh is.”

“Yes, a god, you say.” Doubt carved itself into the wrinkles around his scrunched nose. “Has he spread rot? Have you seen the children rot in the ground, whatever that might look like?”

An itch started underneath my skin, growing more uncomfortable with each second I said nothing. “Well… we were attacked. He had no opportunity to do so.”

“So headstrong, not even the devil could master it.” He scoffed, but the sound held more accusation than amusement. “A man who broke your legs, collared you, had corpses keep you a prisoner, and did who knows what else to you… yet he has done nothing to lift this curse from what I can tell, aside from rotting one strange girl.”

“Twisted. He didn’t break them, but—” Damn it to hell, I should have kept my mouth shut or came up with a lie. Of course, all this made me look like a woman out of her wits. “I trust his word.”

Pa frowned. “The devil is the father of all lies.”

I rose and paced the creaky floorboards, not liking how this itch refused to ease. “Enosh is many things, but he’s no liar.”

He’d vowed no mortal shall find rest at the Pale Court, and none did. He’d promised to make every one of my orifices his to play with, and he had. He’d threatened his cock up my arse if I wasn’t agreeable, and he’d done that, too.

All perfect examples of his truthfulness, but even without saying them out loud, I sounded like a madwoman, even to myself. As much as those things proved his sincerity, all it did was make him an honest devil—one who likely burned at the stake at this very moment.

I let myself slump to the ground before the hearth and buried my muddled head underneath the tangle of my arms. Nearly two months with Enosh and what had I achieved? Very little.

That dark void in my core expanded, sucking all my remaining strength into its black nothingness until my chin hit my chest. All I’d accomplished was getting him captured. And for what? To rot the remains of my deadbeat, late husband? He could go right ahead and walk off the fucking cliff for all I cared.

Curse this mess to hell and back. I’d made everything worse. Days, months, years… eventually, Enosh would free himself. And once he did? Oh, my husband would listen to no talk of rot, and instead, he’d come straight for High Priest Dekalon. And if something happened to me out here…?

I shuddered at the premise of the looming destruction, forcing my head up to meet Pa’s eyes. “I have to get back to the Pale Court.”

“I don’t think you should return to this man, whatever he might be,” Pa said, his voice stern, but he eventually nodded. “But yes, you’re not safe here. Talk about a woman who rode with him is spreading from village to village. Little did I know it was my own daughter. Stand up.”

“I made a vow before God.”

“A vow before a god you say is not real, so I can only wonder about its value.” He gave me a come-hither motion. “Stand.”

When I did, Pa grabbed my arm with one hand. With the other, he cupped my shoulder until, with a rapid push, it cracked and slipped back into its joint.

I hissed a dozen curses into the sleeve of my dress. “I need a mule. Better even, a horse.”

“Weak and battered as you are, you’ll fall right off at the first breeze catching on your hair. What you need is rest. A month to rest your shou— Haugh!” Another savage cough sliced through his words, speckling the fist pressed to his mouth with blood that ran along his wrist before it dripped onto the wood. He cleared his throat, wiped his hand on his gown, and tapped my collar. “This needs to come… come off, lest you want your head severed by some cutthroat to get to the stone. Some nippers should get through the bone.”

I nodded, eyes going to the red stains on his white gown. Even I understood that one misstep of a hoof might cause such pain in my shoulder, it might throw me off the horse, never-mind the pounding beat hammering the joint at a canter. Yes, I needed rest. Gathering all provisions would take time.

Time I would use to convince Pa to come with me.

“He could heal whatever is wrong with your lungs, you know.” I grabbed the wet rag from the kettle and washed the blood off his age-wrinkled fingers. “Come to the Pale Court with me, and Enosh can make it right again. I know he will do it for me.”

He stroked my tousled tresses back but shook his head. “I look forward to reuniting with your mother.”

Who was stubborn now? “You’ll wander.”

“Yes, your husband made certain of that.”

My head turned on instinct, unable to face whatever objection I might find on his face. “I’ll need ashes and walnut shells to darken my hair. We cannot use our names wherever we go, and nobody can know that we came from Hemdale or anywhere near it.”

“There’s a quaint fishing village upstream,” Pa said, already reaching for his travel sack. “News is slow to reach there. Two days’ travel. A month of rest for your shoulder.”

“I can’t afford a month.” If Enosh escaped and found the Pale Court empty… “We’ll go to that village to rest and prepare. If we bring your cages along, we can sell fish for coin and can afford a mule. Then we’ll head to the Blighted Fields, but we’ll take the long way around.”