Page 20 of Kingdom of Locks

Chapter Five

In a movement so swift Aurelia could barely follow it, Cyfrin produced a large silver key and turned it in the lock. Mama Gail’s furious shouts could be heard from behind the door, and judging by the frantic banging, she was pounding her fists against the wood.

Cyfrin stalked back over to Aurelia, his face still heavy with anger. For a moment they stood in silence, Aurelia staring at him in mingled alarm and astonishment. What had come over everyone? Why did he want to speak with her alone for the first time in her entire life, and why was Mama Gail so adamant he not do so?

Taking in her expression, Cyfrin drew a deep breath. “Now,” he said, his pleasant tone so forced Aurelia winced slightly. “We can talk more comfortably.”

Her mouth actually fell open. “Comfortably?” Mama Gail’s angry shouts and continued attempts on the door drew her gaze, and she felt a sudden surge of anger. “Let her out.”

“I will in a minute,” said Cyfrin dismissively. “She needs to learn a lesson about obedience.”

Aurelia relaxed slightly. Infuriating as it was, this self-satisfied assumption of authority over his prisoners was at least a more familiar role from Cyfrin. As her eyes passed over him, she saw again that large silver key, and a frown settled on her face.

“You have a key to our room?” she demanded. “You’ve never told us about that.”

“You’ve never needed to know,” Cyfrin said smoothly, stowing it in his pocket. “Now, to more important matters.”

“No,” said Aurelia, surprising herself by her own defiance. “You had no right to keep it from us. And you have no right to take it with you. You should leave it here.”

“No right?” One of Cyfrin’s thin, dark eyebrows shot up. “I have every right where you’re concerned, Honeysuckle.”

His tone had grown angrier with each passing word, and for the briefest of moments Aurelia winced, waiting for her mother’s inevitable defense of her, and the enchanter’s equally inevitable explosion of wrath. But of course neither came. Mama Gail couldn’t hear a word they were saying, and her continued protests were nothing more than a muffled pounding and wordless yelling.

Cyfrin followed her gaze to the locked door, and a smug look crossed his face. Clearly he too was reflecting on the lack of retort.

To Aurelia’s own surprise, she felt neither relief over the avoidance of confrontation, nor fear over being undefended. Instead, as she took in Cyfrin’s smirk, she felt a surge of something powerful that she’d never experienced before. All at once, standing alone before the enchanter for the first time ever, she understood what Mama Gail’s explanations had never been able to make clear. She couldn’t have explained it in words, either. She just knew it was important to defy Cyfrin, even without a hope of stopping him from doing whatever he wanted.

“You don’t,” she said clearly, pleased at the steadiness of her voice. “You don’t have any right where I’m concerned.”

Cyfrin’s eyes widened in a look of shock that quickly gave way to anger. But just as he opened his mouth to cut her with his words, he seemed to suddenly recollect something. Drawing another deep breath, he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“You should trust me, Honeysuckle,” he tried again. “And you shouldn’t believe everything that woman tells you.”

Aurelia’s confusion at his uncharacteristic restraint was drowned out in the sudden flare of anger brought on by his last words. How dare this man, who’d stolen her from her family and lied to her all her life, tell her not to believe the only person who’d ever cared for her?

“You need to leave,” she said coldly. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Again anger crossed Cyfrin’s face, and this time he wasn’t as successful at controlling it. “I’ve let you grow up too wild,” he spat. “Youwilllisten to what I have to say.”

“I won’t listen to a word until you let my mother out,” Aurelia said stubbornly.

Cyfrin made a derisive noise in his throat. “You know she’s not your mother, Honeysuckle. Just one of the many lies she’s told you.”

“She’snevertold me a lie,” Aurelia retorted. “Unlike you. What do you want me to believe, that you’re my father?”

To her mingled amazement and irritation, Cyfrin threw back his head and laughed. “Your father? That’s the last thing I want you to believe.” He wiped his eyes, his voice mocking. “Oh, Honeysuckle, you ignorant child. I see you’re in no humor to hear about my new project tonight. But there’s always tomorrow night.”

He reached out a hand toward her hair, but she drew it back out of his reach. Again surprising her, he just let out another light laugh.

“Here,” he said, withdrawing the key and holding it out to her. “It’s fitting, isn’t it, for me to give you the key? Take it as a sign of my goodwill.”

“Of your what?” Aurelia asked bitingly. “You don’t know what that is.”

A hint of irritation showed for a moment on the enchanter’s face, but he banished it with the shrug of a shoulder. “You don’t know as much about me as you think you do, child. I hope to show you that with a little time.”

Aurelia reflected that she knew much more of her cruel, selfish captor than she ever wished to, but she didn’t say so. She didn’t want him to change his mind about giving her the key. Reaching out slowly, she pulled it from his hand, both unnerved and irritated by the indulgent smile lingering on his face.

“I’ll take my leave now,” he said carelessly. “You can let the woman whoisn’tyour mother out once I’ve gone. I have no desire to deal with her ill manners further tonight.”

---