Queen of Nothing

8. Queen of Faustian Bargains

Daphne's deadline had been until midnight tomorrow. I had to laugh at that. It wasn't even midnight today before I was making my way back to her mysterious vanishing house and knocking on her front door.

"I thought you needed time to decide," she said when she answered. The knowing smirk on her face told me that she wasn't  surprised to see me.

"Let's just get this over with before I change my mind" I snapped.

Daphne led me inside; past the kitchen to a door that opened to a set of stairs leading down to a basement. Daphne began to descend, but I remained rooted in place. She hadn't mentioned anything about a basement to me. What did witches keep in their basements? Black candles? Pentagrams? Severed goat heads?

As if reading my mind Daphne stopped midway and turned around, crossing her arms. "Come on. There's nothing to be scared of down there."

I was going to have to take her word for it. Exhaling deeply, I steeled myself and took the first step down. Daphne had been right. The basement wasn't as creepy as I thought. It was kind of cozy actually. The walls were lined with white stone and the floor parqueted with dark wood. Landscape paintings lined the walls and a large circular rug lay sprawled on the floor. I hoped it wasn't concealing a demonic seal of any sort.

In one corner stood a tiny kitchenette, complete with a fridge and a stove. Jars of dried flowers and herbs lined the counter. Across from the kitchen was a desk, on top of which lay a thick, ancient looking book.

"See? Nothing to be afraid of," Daphne said jovially.

I nodded, though I still wasn't quite at ease. Daphne walked over to the book on the desk, her heels clicking across the parquet. I wandered over to the kitchenette, examining the jars more closely. They were full of herbs and dried flowers, not eyes of newts or toes of frogs like I expected.

The sound of heavy fabric flapping startled me and I turned to see that Daphne had flung the rug aside to reveal that the floor underneath was made of stone. She lifted her hands and the ground shook. A crude slab rose from within the stone circle, dust falling from its edges. Daphne snapped her fingers, and in the next instant two white pillar candles appeared to adorn the slab.

"Come," Daphne said, motioning me to follow. "Stand on the other side of the altar."

Oh, so it was an altar. And not the church kind either. That wasn't ominous at all. Hesitantly, I obeyed and stood across from her, hands clasped behind my back.

"Are you ready?" Daphne asked. Her cheerful facade had fallen away, replaced by a grimness that sent shivers through me.

I nodded in spite of my fear, bidding her to continue. The lights dimmed of their own accord, leaving the two pillar candles the only source of illumination. The flames made eerie shadows dance across the planes of Daphne's face.

Daphne slowly ran her hand over the surface of the altar, revealing a sharp dagger with an ornate handle. She picked it up and held the blade to the candle flame, warming it.

"What are you going to do with that?" I croaked, unable to contain my fear. My heart raced madly in my chest. Damn it, she promised me there'd be nothing to be afraid of and yet here she was, standing over an altar with a sacrificial dagger.

Daphne looked up slowly as she twirled the knife above the flame. Saying nothing, she held out her left hand, palm up. I gazed at it warily, awaiting instruction. But Daphne simply took the dagger and drew the blade across her palm, leaving a deep cut that welled with blood. She didn't even blink, let alone flinch.

"Give me your left hand," Daphne said.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea already.