Rumpelstiltskin held out his thin hand to me. “Shall we shake on our bargain, Mistress Miller?”

He was trying to trick me into agreeing to his terms. I felt a surge of anger deeper than this room and this story. He wanted to hurt me and expected me to thank him for it.

I wasn’t about to calmly go along with it. As soon as I got The Change Enchantment from Clover, I was going back to my day. I wouldn’t make any bargains here that could bring Rumpelstiltskin to my future hospital maternity room. This deal would be on my terms.

I shook my head. “No. You want my firstborn child. I’m not going to give him to you.”

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Rumpelstiltskin drew a sharp breath and took a step backward.

I’d surprised him, but he recovered soon enough. A mask of humor came over his face. “Why would you think that? What need do I have of a human child?”

“If you don’t want my child, then fine, write it down in a contract.

You can have any piece of jewelry you want, but you can’t have my children. Ever. I’ll make that bargain with you.” His face grew hard, and his lips twitched in anger. “I saved your life twice, and now I offer you untold wealth. You’re an ungrateful girl.

You care nothing for all I’ve done for you.”

“So I’ve been told by my parents more than once. You can’t guilt me into anything. I’ve had practice resisting that sort of thing. Go ahead—ask how long my mother was in labor with me.” I nodded philosophically. “Eighteen hours. Without painkillers.” He pointed a bony finger at me. “You’ll die without my help.” I paced slowly back and forth in front of him. “Are you allowed to buy human children? Does the Alliance know about this?” I had hoped that the name of the Alliance would strike some fear into him. After all, they had stripped him of his fairy powers.

But he laughed, and it was a hollow sound. “When you’re queen, you can have as many children as you desire. You’ll have none if you die in the morning.”

I didn’t answer, just kept pacing. The chain rattled dully against the ground as I moved.

He strolled over to one of the straw mounds, his silhouette as sparse as a shadow. He scooped up a handful, muttered something I couldn’t hear, and the straw changed to golden sticks in his palm. He held them out to me. “Think of the wealth you’ll have. You’ll want for nothing.”

“Unless I want my firstborn child.”

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He turned his palm and tipped the golden straw to the ground.

“Mistress Miller … be reasonable.”

It irked me that he kept calling me “Mistress Miller,” as though I didn’t need an actual name. Mistress Miller was a title that had nothing to do with me. I had never milled anything in my life.

I stopped pacing and folded my arms. “Why do you want a baby anyway?”

“Does it matter? Would you believe me if I told you?” His lips twisted into a suggestion of a grin. “Very well, then. I want to be a father.”

He was right. I didn’t believe him.

He picked up another piece of straw and twirled it lazily between his fingers. “This child doesn’t even exist yet, and you’re willing to give your life for it? What an odd species you are.” He muttered something and the straw between his fingers turned to gold mid twirl. “Although perhaps it’s just you, and not your species. Plenty of your kind discard their own children, don’t they? Tell me, did your father let out a peep when the king’s men carted you off to the castle to pay for his sins?”

“I told him to let the king’s men take me.” Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head in mock understanding. “And he listened to you. How noble.”

“My father is a good person,” I said.

Rumpelstiltskin ignored my statement. “Besides, maybe your firstborn child will be a girl and thus quite expendable.” I expected him to sneer after saying this, but he didn’t. He regarded me as though making a valid point. He not only believed girls were dispensable, he expected me to agree with him. Then I remembered what I had learned in history class about men’s attitudes toward women during the Middle Ages. Women were property, 186/356

without a say in anything. Men wanted sons, and women were just the means of creating them.

No wonder Rumpelstiltskin called me Mistress Miller. He had probably never bothered to learn my name.

Pointedly I said, “I don’t think girls are expendable.”

“You must think that you are expendable if you’re not willing to bargain with me. You’ll be killed in the morning—you and your family.” He tapped the golden straw against his lip, considering the matter. “I wonder how King John will do it.” The mention of my family made me shiver. “My family is safe.”

“For the moment, true, but not for long, since I’ll tell the guards where they are if you don’t agree to my terms. Your family will be easy enough to catch.”

My heart banged into my ribs. Rumpelstiltskin had given me the mirror to trick me into revealing my family’s location, and I had done it. How could I have been so foolish?

He flipped the straw he’d been twirling. It gleamed for one brief moment in the candlelight, then sank and disappeared into the straw mound. “You may not care about your own life, but are you willing to trade the lives of your entire family for an unborn baby?” I swallowed hard. I had to make the bargain. My only choice was in the wording. “Fine. If you give me the enchantment so I can turn things into gold, I’ll let you have any of my possessions—but you only have a year from this day to ask. Any children I have after the year 1200 are forever out of your reach.” Rumpelstiltskin sauntered over to me. “You think you can put off the wedding night for a year?”

I didn’t answer. He laughed again. “Very well. I agree to your terms. You’re a fair maiden and I’ll wager on King John’s impatience.” 187/356

He reached out and took my hand. I felt like I was shaking hands with a skeleton.

Then he stepped away from me and rubbed his bony hands together, not for warmth—in anticipation, to get down to business. “If I still had my wand, I could give you the enchantment that way. As it is, things are more complicated.”

He undid the top buttons of his shirt, revealing a pale, sickly chest. Chrissy had a glow about her skin, but Rumpelstiltskin had the pallor of a corpse. He reached under the folds of his shirt, flinched, and yanked something shiny off his skin. As he walked toward me, he held out the object for me to see. It was a golden heart, pulsing in his hand like a living thing.

I stepped backward. “What is that?”

“It’s the enchantment. Once I give this to you, only you will be able to take it off again. I wouldn’t though—all sorts of folk would try to steal it from you.”

I watched the thrumming heart, and took another nervous step backward. “And once I’m wearing it, I’ll be able to turn whatever I want into gold?”

“Just touch the object, say its name, and repeat, ‘Gold, gold, gold.’

Whatever you touch will transform.”

“If you could change objects that easily, why did you bother spinning the straw into gold?”

He smiled like it was a foolish question. “Because that’s what the king requested. Now then, stay still so I can give you your new heart.” He reached out and put the golden heart on the exposed skin above the collar of my dress. I jolted with shock. The heart was so cold it burned. Rumpelstiltskin moved his hand away, and I expected the heart to fall to the ground. It didn’t. It flattened itself and slowly slid downward under the collar of my dress. I could feel the freezing trail it 188/356

left until it perched directly over my own heart. Then it burrowed into my skin.

I gasped and put my hand to my chest. “It hurts.”

“Most things in life do.”

It was squeezing my own heart, making it hard to breathe. “How long will the pain last?”