"I've missed your screams, Dunthryth."
I shuddered at Osgar's words but could do nothing else. Trying to fight the magic which held my limbs in place only served to weaken me, causing fire to blaze in my limbs.
"It's a neat trick, isn't it?" Elsie requested. "Those morons at the gate were vessels for my husband's magic, blood magic. Your shared blood makes it easy, especially now he's opened you to it. That's what they were doing, making you susceptible. Then once you stepped into his enchantment, the moment you passed the perimeter fence, you gave him control. Even more impressive is that you're powering it. The sorcery that brought you here, that's draining you, you're the power source. It'll hold you long enough for Osgar to drain you. Long enough for me to get inside that fascinating head of yours. After that..." She smiled, a slow, cruel smile. "After that, you won't know about Darcy or Freya. There will be Dunthryth. Only Dunthryth. At least, until Tiw decides what he wants you to remember and what he wants you to forget."
They weren't just using Tiw's name to gain human support, they'd allied themselves with him. But why? How? What about Berith, the demon to which Osier owed his life and service? I couldn't voice my questions, though, even if I had been able to, I doubted Elsie would answer.
"Oh," she added, "and don't think your husband or your lover will come for you either. This place, the whole dry dock, has been warded by my husband himself, with Berith's power, and by several of his followers. Even your husband won't get in here, not before we can whisk you away, never to be seen again."
Elsie, the teenager housing the soul of my biological mother and Osier's wife, stepped towards me. My thoughts raced, frantically trying to come up with a plan, anything that would save me. There was nothing. I'd walked knowingly into a trap and I hadn't been strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough to avoid being caught in it.
I shuddered again when she reached for me, her fingers brushing my cheek. "This should've been the face of my daughter. His heir. I will enjoy hearing you scream. I will enjoy watching him tear you apart. You should not have infected her body."
When Elsie's magic flared to life, I could feel the unwholesome nature of it. I could feel the darkness that had consumed her, even before she forced in into my head, like a thousand daggers being driven into my skull. My fight instinct flared, but as it did, my own power forced me to submit, because Osier could control me. Through his blood. Through my blood. He had power over me.
My rebellion was brief while Elsie sought out the memories she wanted, the memories of the cellar upon which the design of my current cell had been based. As memories of my recent history began to peel away, I realised what Osgar had planned. Elsie wouldn't lock me in nightmare. That would be too unsatisfying for him. She would use just enough illusion to ensure I believed myself to be in the past but leave me aware of Osgar, of the real, live, physical Osgar, so that he could harm me anew. It was devious. It was cruel. It was what I should've expected from them.
I felt history slipping away, even as I tried to cling to it, but as the world began to grow dark and my suddenly unsteady legs gave way, I knew I'd lost. When I awoke again, it would be like Darcy had never existed. I would be unaware of my heritage as a goddess. There would only be Dunthryth left.
His tone was harsh as he whispered to the strangely clad girl. Not that Osgar's tone was ever gentle. I hoped he wouldn't realise that I'd woken up as I remained curled, naked and vulnerable, on the cold, hard floor. I always hoped he wouldn't realise. Praying was always a wasted effort, however. I'd come to accept that centuries ago.
"The wards will hold," the girl was insisting, although her words made no sense to me.
"See that they do," Osgar retorted, scowling at the young woman, who, from her scent, was mortal.
