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Lilja stopped in front of one that was different from the others. It was made of elm, as far as I could tell, and ancient by the looks of it. “Open it,” she told Hrafn.

He traced a symbol on the wood and the door swung open. We stepped inside. The cell lay in complete darkness, but when Hrafn said a word I didn’t understand—their old tongue, no doubt— all along the wall those strange lamps ignited.

It was the most awful sight I had ever seen. Nine women stood pressed against the wall, squinting and blinking at us. All were in rags, pale, and so very thin. There was nothing else in here but stone. No pallets, no blankets. Not even a pile of hay. Just that hard stone. And Lilja had spent centuries in this cruel darkness.

“I thought there were more,” Helena said.

Lilja’s voice was low. “There were, and not so long ago.” She handed Hrafn the staff. “Release us.”

He took it, and with it in his one hand, he placed the tip of a finger of the other against her chest. He traced a symbol against the red wool, then another, then a third. I lost count after that. Lilja’s eyes were closed but her face calm.

When Hrafn stepped back, she opened her eyes. They shimmered with tears in the strange, steady light. “It worked,” she said. “I feel it. The bond is severed.”

I took her hand, and next to Alma and Helena we watched as Hrafn repeated the symbols on the chest of every woman in the cell. One by one, they were turned back into humans. Perhaps I imagined it, but it seemed to me something changed in their eyes. Lit again after centuries, like the lamps a moment ago.

“You can release the other elves now,” Lilja said once Hrafn had turned the last woman. “The ones Alfrun locked up for speaking against her.”

Hrafn gave the order to do just that to a soldier.

“Come on,” Lilja told the women. “Follow me.”

As we made our way back through the corridor, the soldiers opened the other doors, and soon a whole flock of us were making our way up the winding stairs. My legs burned, but they weren’t weak. My head was clear. My heart was as calm as I could expect it to be inside this mountain. Lilja’s healing symbols were powerful.

When we stepped back out of the door and onto the dais, a figure standing against the wall caught my eye. Stali. He had the doll cradled in his hand and his eyes still bore that glassy look. He was still under the spell.

I took the doll from him because she was my creation. Mine, Alma and Helena’s. Besides, she was much too pretty for his ugly grip.

“He should have died too,” Alma said. “For making the doll that trapped Lilja.”

Helena shook her head. “He’ll go on living knowing a mere human bested him. That’s a far worse fate for an elf.”

Stali blinked at us, still dazed. He seemed as docile as a lamb. And perhaps he was, now that his queen was dead and his pride chipped. No. More than just chipped. I had thwarted it beneath my human heel.

The elves crowded back into the hall. They stared in silence at Alfrun and Vemund’s bloodless bodies until one elf stepped forward and pulled Vemund from the dais and laid his corpse next to Alfrun’s on the floor. Blood covered their beautiful but flat attempt at emulating a flowery meadow. A gruesome display of greed and cruelty.

“Let’s leave,” Lilja said. She turned to Hrafn. “If I ever hear of anyone going missing anywhere in Dalarna, I’m coming back.”

Hrafn’s answer was a single nod.

With Lilja and I in the front, me with the doll in the crook of my arm, and Alma and Helena making up the rear, we made our way through the hall with the released women. As we filed out the door, Hrafn raised his voice behind us. Addressing his subjects, but that didn’t concern us.

Chapter Forty-Two

Halfway back through the tunnel, Helena insisted she carry the doll, ignoring my protestations that I was fine. I took Lilja’s hand. She was walking beside me with firm strides. Not hurried, but determined. Just the way I loved her most.

The gate was open when we reached the end of the tunnel, by Hrafn no doubt, and it had stopped snowing. Clover and Poppy had eaten their hay, and they stomped their hooves when they saw us. Eager to be away. I felt the same.

“Get in the sleigh,” Alma told me.

“It’s downhill.” I did feel a little woozy now, but I was in considerably better condition than the prisoners.

“You almost just died,” Helena said with a push in my back. “Get in.”

“I’ll drive at least.”

Helena rolled her eyes, but she let me get up onto the bench. Lilja sat next to me. Alma ordered some of the prisoners into the sleigh, as many as Poppy and Clover could pull. They would take turns, she and Helena decided. Then at the village, we would buy food for everyone and stop for the night.

We set off, and Lilja leaned against my side. I kissed the top of her head. When she tipped her face up toward me, I rubbed at the dried blood on her face. It didn’t budge. She would need a thorough wash. We all did. My shirt and coat were stiff from my own blood.