The Price {Completed}

Chapter Forty

The train tracks came into view nearly on the time that I was supposed to meet Ferdinand. I jogged the last few yards, and pressed up against the station sign. It was mostly covered in snow, but it blocked a little of the wind. I hugged it, trying to keep my front side warm while the wind whistled in my ear.

Minutes began to slip by, passing the mark that Ferdinand said he would be back by. I didn't think anything of it at first, because I assumed that he had gotten trapped by the crowds and couldn't travel as fast as he thought he would be able to. But then another hour slipped by and my feet began to ache and my nose grew bright red in the cold. The lights were all out except the lamp that stood by the platform. I scuttled over to stand under it, squatting to give my legs a rest. Another hour passed. I began to fidget, biting my lip and looking up at any noise that disrupted the night.

A dog barked.

I clenched my fists.

Nadia.

I jerked. Was that my name? A whisper on the air, like a dream or a ghost. The snow swirled into my eyes, making it almost impossible to see much farther than a few yards in any direction.

Nadia.

There it was again. I surged to my feet, swaying a little with tiredness and having to clutch the lamp post to steady myself. The wind picked up, plucking at my jacket and whipping my hair against my cheeks.

"Nadia. You have been gone for so long."

This was a voice, a real, solid voice. I spun toward it to see a black form half hidden in the flurry.

"Who's there?" I asked, taking a step backward, but staying in the pool of light.

"I suppose you thought yourself rid of me." The voice was that of snakes and ravens, those animals of death and evil. I dug my hand into my pocket, hoping that the family in that poor boy's picture would lend me their strength.

"I'm expecting someone shortly," I warned.

"I know," the voice said. "I've been watching you all this time that you thought yourself free. I saw you forget your passion, forget your dream. My heart ached for the forgotten dance, and how you must feel to have given it up for things such as a squalid flat, and a boy too coward to fight."

The wind hurled snow in every direction. "Mr Lennox?" I choked out.

He stepped forward out of the shadows and into the light so that I could finally see him. He looked exactly the same as I had last left him, and exactly the same as he did all those years ago when he first plucked me from the ashes of ruin. The fur on his coat collected snow and his fingers caressed the crow on his cane. The only difference I saw was that his eyes gleamed as with a fever. Bloodshot and ringed by dark bruises, his eyes were black pits in his skull.

My voice quavered. "I didn't think I'd see you again after the attack on the theater," I whispered, fighting against the panic that built in my chest.

"I am your guardian angel, Nadia. Do you think it was coincidence that I found you that day when you were a small child lost in the death of a city? Do you think it a coincidence that I find you again? I am your protector. I see everything you do, and I will make sure that you come to no harm. Your gift is one that cannot die," he said. "I won't let it die, not even if you wish it gone."

"It isn't dead," I replied. "The dance is still in me. But it's not the time for dancing."

He laughed dryly. "What hold does this world have over you? Do you wish it to pull you down and tether you to its earthly coil? With me, the heavens are your playground. Such petty things as wars and disease cannot bind you. Come, and we shall recreate what they tried to destroy."

"You cannot win a war with dancing," I said.

"Child."

"I want to stay here." It felt wrong to refuse the man that had raised me. He blinked at my defiance, and I felt the overwhelming need to grab the words back and follow his orders. Yet, I had been away from him too long. In my freedom, there had grown inside me a solid pillar that refused to let me crumble. Though I leaned on it, and it groaned in protest, it would not let my resolve collapse.

I saw his jaw work under the black beard that hid it, and his hand gripped tightly against the cane. He looked up at the sky, and I took that moment to begin backing away. He didn't move and so I went faster, hoping to slip into an alley and disappear before he noticed. I would find Ferdinand and we would leave this city far behind, just like we planned.

As I walked backward, my boot slipped in a slushy bit of snow, causing me to stumble. My pack of supplies slid from my shoulder and hit the lamp post, making a dull ringing noise. I looked up sharply to see Mr Lennox gazing right at me.

"You wretched creature," he breathed. He began to walk toward me, picking up speed as he went. I tried to turn and run, but the snow conspired to slip me at every step. I slid and stumbled while Lennox seemed to float over it to grab my arm and wrench it around so I faced him.

"Do you see this?" Spittle hit me in the face as he snatched up my hand and forced it in front of my eyes. The gold band on my finger, so cold in the winter wind, sucked in the light of the lamp post. He shook my wrist, causing my hand to snap back and forth helplessly. His face was but inches from mine, and he eyes bored into my skull. "Do you?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"This means that you are mine and I am yours," he said, grabbing my fingers now and forcing them to bend so that he could see the ring. "It means that you are not that puppy's property and he cannot take you away from me. You are bound to me for life, dear one." He smashed our fingers together, our rings banging against each other.

"Let me go," I said, trying to free my hand but only succeeding and in him gripping all the tighter until it went white.

"We're going home," he said, yanking on my arm so hard that I heard a pop and pain began to spread like fire down it. I dug in my heels, but the snow made for poor footing, and he was able to half-drag, half-carry me down the roads. I sobbed, kicked, screamed, but no one even glanced our way as we passed them. Mr Lennox forged on, cutting through buildings and back alleys that I didn't know existed, until we stood before the old lodging house I had called home for my childhood. He hauled me in and up the stairs, taking me to that familiar door.

He set me down while he fished out the key, and I tried to run. I got only two steps away before I felt his arm around my waist once more. My feet left the ground and he dragged me backward into the room. My hands caught the doorpost, but he merely yanked me backward and my fingers were stripped raw as they slid from the wood.

He threw me against my bed and my head hit the wall behind. Lights danced in front of my eyes and I tasted blood on my lips as I straightened myself out. He stood by the other wall, pacing with his hands on his hips and breathing heavily.

"What can I do with you?" he asked, rubbing his beard. "What can I do with a willful child that does not listen?"

"Let me go or I'll fight," I said, my eyes scanning the room for a weapon. None presented itself to me. The room had been abandoned and it stood empty except for my bed, the table, and a chair.

"You will stay here until I can deal with you," he shouted. His face went blood red and spit flew across the room. Shocked at this display of emotions he had never shown before, I pressed up against the wall and drew my legs in.

He turned and disappeared into his room, only to return a few moments later with a length of rope in his hands. He came toward me and, though I struggled, pinned me down with a knee to my chest long enough to loop my hands together and tie me tightly to the bed post. He let up his knee to let me go and I immediately yanked on the rope. The heavy bed kept me in place and the rope's thick fibers cut into my wrists, tightening the knot the more I tried to free myself.

He grabbed my throat with one hand, smashing my cheeks and forcing me to look up at him. "I'll be back in a few hours, and I expect you to have thought of the consequences of this brazen act of willfulness." He released me with a jerk, and my head snapped to the side.

He grabbed his cane and hat from where he had dropped them, and slammed the door behind him. The lock thunked into place heavily, and I was left with the darkness and my throbbing shoulder.