Page 44 of Spinning Silver

But it was all the same choice, every time.

The choice between the one death and all the little ones.

The Staryk was glaring at me, unearthly and terrifying.

But what was the use of being afraid of him?

For all his magic and all his strength, he couldn’t kill me any more thoroughly than Oleg would have, crushing the breath from my throat in the snow.

And if I made him angry enough to do it, he wouldn’t hold back for all the pleading in the world, any more than Oleg would have stopped because I’d begged for mercy in the woods.

I couldn’t buy my life in the last moment, with hands around my throat.

I could only buy it by giving in sooner, giving in all the time; like Scheherazade, humbly asking my murderous husband to go on sparing me night after night.

And I knew perfectly well even that wasn’t guaranteed to work.

I wouldn’t make that bargain. I was going to try and kill him, even if I was almost certain to fail, and I wouldn’t be afraid of him now, either.

I straightened my shoulders and looked him in his glittering eyes.

“I’d say that I’m owed an educated guess if you can make one.

If you knew who built it, for instance.”

“Owed?” he spat. Out of the corner of my eye, Tsop had very slowly and carefully been maneuvering herself farther back by inches, and now she eased the rest of the way out of the chamber. “Owed?”

In a sudden lurch he was standing right before me, as if he’d moved so quickly my eyes couldn’t see him do it; he put his hand on my throat, his thumb in the hollow beneath my chin, pushing it up so I still looked him in the face, my neck bent back.

“And if I say all I owe you is two answers more?” he said softly, glittering down at me.

“You can say what you like,” I said without yielding, my voice pressed up against the skin of my throat, forcing its way through.

“One more time I will ask: are you certain ?” he hissed.

There was a deep ominous warning in his voice, as if I was pushing him to a hard limit.

But I’d already made the choice. I’d made it the winter before last, sitting at my mother’s bedside, hearing her cough away her life.

I’d made it standing in a hundred half-frozen doorways, demanding what I was owed.

I swallowed the sharp taste of bile back down my throat.

“Yes,” I said, as cold as any lord of winter could have been.

He gave a snarl of rage and whirled away from me. He stalked to the edge of the chamber and stood there with his back to me and his fists clenched. “You dare, ” he said to the wall, not turning to look at me. “You dare set yourself against me, to make a pretense of being my equal—”

“ You did that, when you put a crown on my head!” I said. My hands wanted to shake, with triumph or anger or both at once. I held them clenched tight. “I am not your subject or your servant, and if you want a cowering mouse for a wife, go find someone else who can turn silver to gold for you.”

He gave a hiss of frustration and displeasure, and stood there a moment longer just breathing in furious heaves, his shoulders rising and falling.

But then he said, “A mighty witch grew tired of mortals asking her for favors and built for herself a house on the border of the sunlit world, that they might not find her at home when she did not desire company. But she went away long ago and has not returned, for I would know if so great a power came back into my realm.”

I was breathing just as hard, still enraged, and it didn’t make sense to me at first as victory, as an answer to my question; it felt as though it came out of nowhere. “What is long ago ?” I said, too hastily.

“Do you think I care for the mayfly moments with which you count the passage of your lives in the sunlit world, save when I must?” he said. “Mortal children born then have long since died, and their children’s children now are old, that is all I can say. Ask once more. ”

A good answer as far as it went: at least I could hope that no monstrously powerful witch was going to appear and decide to make Magreta her dinner in place of the porridge she’d eaten.

I would have liked to know a bit more about where the food might have come from, and who had laid the fire, but I couldn’t afford to ask; I had a more pressing question.

“I promised my cousin that I would dance at her wedding,” I said.

“And she will be married in three days’ time. ”

I thought I’d have to go on from there, but he’d already turned round to look at me, a gleam coming into his eye: I suppose as seriously as they took their given word here, he knew at once that he had me over a barrel.

Which he did, if not quite the way he thought he did.

“Then it seems you must ask my aid,” he said softly, with visible glee. “And hope that I don’t refuse it.”

“Well, you won’t do it to help me,” I said, and he gave a small snort, amused. “And you’ve made clear there’s only one thing I’m good for in your eyes. So how much gold do you want me to make, in exchange for escorting me to Basia’s wedding?”

He scowled with a hint of regret, as if he’d looked forward to my prostrating myself and begging for his help, but he was practical enough not to let that stop him.

“I have three storerooms of silver,” he said, “each larger than the last, and you shall turn every coin therein to gold, ere I take you thence: and you must work swiftly, for if you have not finished the work in time, neither shall I convey you, and you will be foresworn.” He finished in triumph, as if he were threatening me with an axe over my head, which maybe he was; I had the bad suspicion that if I was foresworn and he knew it, he would consider that a mortal crime.

“Fine,” I said.

He jerked and stared at me in sudden dismay. “What?”

“Fine!” I said. “You just demanded—”

“And now, for the first time, you make no effort to negotiate—” He pulled himself up short, his face glitter-flushed again, and I had a deeply sinking feeling even as he said, bitterly, “We are agreed. And may you complete as much of your task as you can.”

“Exactly how big are these storerooms?” I demanded, but he was already going out of the room, without a pause.

I didn’t pause, either. I rang my bell urgently, and Tsop came timidly back inside, darting her eyes over me to see if I’d been, I don’t know, strangled or beaten or otherwise chastised for my dreadful temerity.

“There are three storerooms of silver in the palace,” I said. “I need you to take me to them.”

“Now?” she said doubtfully.

“Now,” I said.