Twenty-Two

 

The terrified girl seemed to banish her fear in a moment as she rose. "Who are you?" she demanded.

She was a princess, the seer had said, which explained her regal bearing, as well as her fine gown. Maja had nothing half so fine. Abraham promised himself that when the curse was broken, he would find a fabric merchant to sell him some rich cloth to take home as a gift for Maja.

But first he had to persuade the girl to help him, and not betray him to the king. For the king would not look kindly upon an intruder in his castle, however loyal the House of Rumpelstiltskin might be.

"Who I am matters not," Abraham said finally. "All that matters is you help me."

She edged away from him, toward the door. "You should not be here. If you wish for someone's help, you should petition the king." Her hand closed on the door handle.

"No!" Abraham shouted, lunging for her.

She scrambled away, crossing the room so that the wheeled table she had been playing with stood between them. "If my husband returns and finds you here, he will cut you down. Leave while you still have legs to run with. For if you harm me, there is nowhere you can run to where he will not find you."

Harm her? He had to save her!

Abraham stared at her for a long moment before he could find the words he needed. "I have not come here to hurt you, Princess," he said slowly. "I need your help, and I will pay handsomely for it. So handsomely, you will never need to spin your own thread again." He reached for the spindles of spun thread he recognised, for Maja had used similar ones, and closed his fingers around them. In a moment, the common white thread turned to pure gold. He held out the transformed spindles. "You see?"

"What have you done?" she demanded.

"I will make you richer than you have ever dreamed, if only you help me," Abraham said. He thought he heard footsteps on the stairs. He would have to be quick. "Come with me. I will tell you everything you need to know, and once you have helped me, I will fill your chamber with enough gold to last you a lifetime."

"I don't want gold or riches. I want my husband, and no one else. Get out!" she said fiercely.

The footsteps were getting closer. "Please, Princess!" Abraham pulled on his gloves and offered her his hand. "All the wealth you could ever want, and all I ask is a night of your time."

"No!"

The door handle moved. Abraham was out of time.

"I shall return on the morrow, and ask you again," he promised, before stamping his foot three times to conjure a hole large enough for him to escape through before the door opened.