The Girl in the Iron Mask

The iron mask is the last item to be removed. Nisa unfastens the small bolts which hold the mask in place. I take hold of the mask and admire it's sinister artwork. No ... that's not true. The artwork isn't sinister. The intricate design is delicate and well crafted. It's the purpose for which the mask has been used which was sinister. As a piece of art, the mask is beautiful. I briefly stop my examination of the mask to look at Nisa, who has now prostrated herself on the ground before me.

"What are you doing, Nisa?" I ask.

"Awaiting your judgement, Lady," replies Nisa. "I only ask that you spare my mother, Noor."

I haven't seen Noor in weeks. Not since she stopped delivering my meals. To be honest I didn't even think about her when she no longer appeared. I was preoccupied with other matters.

"You haven't committed any crime for me to pass judgement over," I reply. "Nor has your mother. Where is Noor? I haven't seen her in ages."

"I've committed many crimes against you. I invaded your mind. I had you beaten by Cairn. I helped Maeve and Cairn degrade and humiliate you. My only defence is that I had to do it to protect my mother. Maeve had her locked in the dungeon while I was training you."

"Then go and find her to make sure she is safe. Have her freed from the dungeon. If any guard refuses to free Noor then let Rowan or I know."

"Yes, Lady. Thank you, Lady," says Nisa as she scrambles to her feet.

"Return here with some clothes for me when you've made sure your mother is safe. I think I will need some help walking until I get used to being without the weight of my shackles."

Nisa leaves at once. I practise moving about while I wait. By the time Nisa returns I can at least walk a few paces unaided. But I want to go to Rowan, and I'll need help to make it that far. Nisa brings an assortment of clothes and she helps me choose a suitable outfit. It feels strange walking about in clothes after being naked for so long.

Part of me wants to leave Doranelle as quickly as possible, but another part tells me not to run like a frightened rabbit from Maeve's citadel. Besides, Rowan insists that I firstly recover from the physical effects of my captivity before undertaking the long journey back to Terrasen. I soon adjust to the absence of the weight of my fetters. My back still bears the marks of Cairn's whip, although the scars are no more unsightly that those left by the overseers of Endovier. Most of the new scars simply obliterated older ones. Like the scars on my back, the mental scars will probably never leave me entirely. It will take me many months, if not years, to quell the memories of my degradation. But I overcame the nightmares that haunted me after my time in Endovier. In time I shall undoubtedly overcome those acquired here; assuming my divine mission doesn't end my life sooner.

Maeve proves to be remarkably cooperative and helpful. I don't trust her, but at least she makes no attempt to renew our hostilities. I suspect she needs more time to work out a new plan. I don't believe for a moment that she's given up her goal to acquire the wyrdkeys. But she can be patient. What's a few extra months or years of waiting to someone who has lived for centuries. She'll come up with a new scheme in due course, and I don't doubt it will involve me. For now, she needs to focus on securing her throne and easing the unrest among her subjects. The Fae are understandably unhappy about Maeve's invasion of their minds.

Rowan orders that the iron box, chastity belt, chains and shackles be melted down to prevent them from ever being used again. He leaves me for a while so that he can make sure his orders are carried out. He would have included the iron mask had I not asked him to save it. I hope I'm not making a mistake, but I wish to keep the mask. Not as some weird memento, but because the intricate wrought ironwork deserve a better fate than being melted down as revenge for Maeve's actions. The other items that I get to retain are the two iron rings on my nipples. They've been kept for an entirely different reason which shall remain a private matter between husband and wife.

Rowan is gentle with me the first time we share our bed together since my release. He seems frightened to touch me in case I fall apart in his arms. But I soon correct him on that subject. My mounting sexual urges demand that he treat me with all the physical dominance a Fae male can exert during mating. I've become hungry for the physical effects that Fae couplings produce. Cairn's brutality has only helped me to appreciate Rowan's natural prowess, and I encourage Rowan to use all his strength and power to claim what I willingly offer him. At first he is tentative in his use of my body. However, that soon changes when he realises that not only am I wanting, but actually demanding, him to serve my sexual needs. I'm in no mood to tolerate second best.

We fall into an exhausted sleep in the early hours of the morning. I'm still not used to sleeping without the weight of my chains, so my sleep is disturbed by dreams. Fortunately they are dreams rather than nightmares. I wake in the half light of dawn to realise Rowan and I aren't alone in this chamber. I move to wake Rowan, who is snoring his head off, when I recognise our visitor. She's not a welcome visitor, nor is she still of this world. Elena. My long dead ancestor and, until recently, the last known descendant of Mala to be able to summon wildfire.

"What do you want?" I ask her ghostly form.

"I just came to congratulate you, Aelin. You've succeeded in recovering Mala's mask. Learn the rest of its secrets and you will achieve your divine mission."

"What do you mean? I didn't even know the mask held secrets."

"Ah! But it does; and you've learned more about controlling wildfire as a result. When Maeve stole the mask many years ago, she believed it to be a weapon to restrict Mala's descendants from using their power. It's nothing of the sort. Mala created the mask to teach her offspring how to use and control wildfire."

"So this was all part of my preordained divine mission?"

"So it seems. The future is never certain and no action or event can be predicted with certainty. But you are now a step closer to achieving your goal. Erawan and his demons must be banished forever. The alternative will be ten times worse than the suffering you endured here in Doranelle. Remember the pain from Cairn's whip and weight of Maeve's shackles and you will remember the consequences of failure."

Elena disappears without any further words. I slip into a fitful sleep.

A few days later, Rowan finally decides I'm fit enough to travel. I suspect the timing of his decision has more to do with exhaustion from satisfying my sexual demands. Fortunately Fae are quick to recover their energy. There's a long journey ahead of us, so he's not going to escape that easily.

Our delay in Doranelle at least enables Rowan to obtain fresh information about Erawan's movements. My absence from the ongoing battle hasn't been generally noticed outside of Doranelle. Lysandra's deception has worked as we had hoped. A quick overland journey to the nearest port and a fast ship to Terrasen are all that we need to put this whole episode behind us.

As we get ready to leave, Maeve asks me to join her in her chambers to say farewell. Rowan suspects a trap, but my power is fully restored and is strong enough to defend myself against Maeve. Of course I have no means of knowing what lasting effect Maeve's and Nisa's tampering with my mind will have, but neither Rowan nor I can detect anything obvious.

"I thought we might share a toast to wish you a safe journey and success in your venture," says Maeve as though my presence in Doranelle all these months was entirely voluntary. She hands me a drink which I recognise at once. Golden Nectar. The warm drink is her way of saying 'no hard feelings'.

"Cheers!" I say, as I drink her precious gift.

[the end]