Rislock Island was the main ally of the Insurrection. Since the exodus, its rulers had taken care of our concealment and protection, so it was in the best interest of our people to keep them happy. Cavintosh did not appear on the maps, and even in the Kraeman era, because in Rislock they had wanted to take advantage of those resources on their own and hide there what they did not want the kings to find, they even had a fleet that prevented any other vessel from approaching. That gave a lot of power for generations to that island considered an Ethryn province.
Looking out from the deck of Eneas' ship, I could not figure out how they had managed it. All of us who lived in Cavintosh knew that it had been a great achievement to keep such a secret from king Honir, and especially from Queen Furya, who had been looking for us the hardest. Now that I knew what the Insurrection was like, I suspected that blood had been spilled. I was not complaining: if we did not remain hidden, Cavintosh would not appear on the maps because there would be nothing left, all of us living here would be dead, and the Queen could rule with impunity knowing that there was no one who dared to confront her or any chosen one capable of killing her. That was too peaceful an existence to allow that woman to have it.
I knew what I wanted to happen when the time came. I had imagined many versions of what could happen to me during the war, but the night before I had glimpsed the one that had become my favorite.
I was in the middle of a battle surrounded by the corpses of the Galateans. Kneeling before me was this snow-pale woman, her whiteness eclipsed by the deep red of spilled blood. I would lean over her ear to say, "This is for my father," and, by the time I broke away, her neck was already broken, she would collapse, and my reflection would smile triumphantly. I would turn around and return to the ranks of the Insurrection. I would raise both hands and a tremendous commotion would take place. Soon after, my reflection handed me two festering hearts: the two I most desired to complete my revenge.
One of them was still beating in the chest of the man chatting with Rodion at the bow. I assumed he was talking about Rislock, as he gestured toward the speck receding on the horizon. Our ship was not to approach the neighboring island: no vessel was allowed to do so, lest we make missteps. I cocked my head to one side. I hadn't wanted to imagine what would happen after that scene, because I doubted it would take place anyway. But I smiled anyway, as I would if I were holding a heart in each hand. I had my feelings divided about it. The silent companion lady was shocked and horrified, and I knew I couldn't be capable of doing such a thing.
But the witch felt the rhythm in which the magic twisted in me like an impatient whirlpool, and it was the witch who smiled.
"It's nice weather," Clariess commented, coming closer to me. The sea breeze was ruffling her curls and the ribbons of her hair. I chuckled to myself and replied:
"Clariess, I seem to remember you once told me that starting a conversation by talking about the weather is the most obvious sign of desperation."
"I-I don't remember saying that."
"But you agree."
I turned around, leaning my elbows on the starboard wooden railing.
"In all our friendship, we have not talked about the weather to break the ice."
"No, you take care of that with your grunting," she muttered, looking down with a shy smile. I let her plan what to say in silence. "I'm sorry about yesterday."
"What?"
"I didn't ask Rodion to come and talk to you, I know things between you are... bad."
"A mild, but acceptable term."
She sighed and continued:
"Yes, I may have hinted at it, but then I realized it wasn't a good idea and asked him not to do anything."
"He ignored you."
"He wanted to talk to you, too. He's devastated, having been forced to end a two-year relationship. I'm sure he's still in love with you, Persie."
"Now you're the one speaking on his behalf," I waved. "What's the matter, can't any Aursong defend himself?"
It was actually a surprise to see Clariess give me an annoyed look.
"We haven't spoken to each other for a long time. Suddenly you hate the people you loved and everything makes you angry. It's not all my fault, you know."
"I asked you if you were afraid of me and you didn't know what to say."
"Because you were looking at me wrong and your eyes were shining! You wanted me to be afraid of you!"
I shook my head in exasperation as she looked sideways at the others.
"I just want things to go back to normal, but I know that's not possible."
"No, it is not."
"Maybe between us. You are my only real friend."
I snorted and crossed my arms.
"You have many friends."
"It's not true. You've always thought I was naive, so I try to be realistic. They are not my friends."
I gave a crooked smile.
"I doubt that you really want my friendship."
"And why not?"
"Hmm, I don't know. Your family hates me, I stole your fiancé and... Oh, yeah. I'm a witch."
"What? My family doesn't hate you!"
I gave him a meaningful look.
"Well... I mean, you haven't stolen anything from me, and I already know you're a witch. Maybe magic makes you a little unstable, but you're the strongest person I know, and I know you're not going to go crazy..."
That lie again. I looked at Eneas, chatting with the brothers, smiling and calm. How tempting it would be to throw him overboard.
"Thank you for putting so much trust in my sanity, Clariess."
"Oh, I know it sounds bad, but..."
"You're right, things can't go back to normal. But, anyway... I appreciate that you don't want to distance yourself."
"So...?"
"Will you join us, ladies?"
Eneas, closely followed by Rodion and Cadmot, had approached.
"What for, Your Highness?" I asked in a friendly tone.
"The servants are going to bring out wine and tea. It's a splendid afternoon, isn't it?"
Before I knew it, Clariess and I exchanged a knowing glance with which we said to each other without words: 'weather'.
"Of course."
The prince's servants handed out glasses and he filled them for us, pouring a little less liquor for us. He raised his and announced:
"For a free Ethryant."
"To victory," Rodion added, earning a nod from Eneas, and we all toasted. He was quick to do so again.
"I would like to propose another toast."
As soon as he looked at me for amusement, and I knew what he was going to say.
"To Persie, my beautiful fiancée and our reign together. You are going to start a new era, my love."
At least he didn't call me darling anymore, but I didn't like that nickname either.
"I also toast to the Aursongs, the most illustrious, respected and honorable family in all of Cavintosh. And, hopefully, to Ethryant."
That made the three brothers relax a little, as they had tensed up at the first sentence. Rodion didn't look at me, which I was grateful for, but a wrinkle on his temple that I had never seen before was deepening by the minute.
We sat at a table in the center of the deck, and Eneas immediately took the reins of the conversation.
"How is the preparation of the soldiers going, Captain?"
"The men are well trained and eager to go into battle, sir."
"Not too much, I hope. We won't take the next step until we are fully prepared."
"The longer you delay, the more likely it is that the Queen will discover the ships you are preparing," I let it drop lightly, taking a sip of the tea I had ended up substituting for the wine. The prince raised his eyebrows.
"You think so?"
"I'm just saying it's a possibility."
"Well, you see, site preparation is not the only reason we have to wait. One of them is that you are not ready."
I gritted my teeth, but tried my best to smile.
"It was not a criticism. And I don't say it with false modesty, but I don't think I'm so crucial to the war that it needs to be delayed because of me."
"We don't delay anything. We just stick to the plan that is strategically most favorable to us."
"Your Highness, you're not going to let a woman question you on military matters, are you?" Cadmot snorted, giving me a contemptuous look. The prince was not smiling.
"No, I wasn't planning on it. Persie, just because you're engaged to me doesn't give you the right to speak when it's not your place. In the future, I would appreciate it if you would not display such arrogance."
My fingers clung with all my might to the silky skirt of my dress. I said nothing more, which put Cadmot in an excellent mood. Clariess gave me a pitying look and I grimaced.
"Did you hear from Nertull's advisors?"
"No, not yet. But the truth is that dealing with them is entertaining. Every one of those parchment-like leeches thinks he's the real king of Nertull, it's almost comical."
"Is there trouble in Nertull, your highness?" Clariess inquired discreetly. That was the way I should have intervened, according to my etiquette tutors, so annoying that I could almost hear their voices in my sleep. Eneas smiled.
"Not at all, Lady Clariess. The insurrectionists and the Nertullians have strengthened their alliances this past year. They are now allowing us to land on their lands to reach Ethryant from there."
"Why do you say that the counselors think they are the real kings?" I chose to ask. The prince gave me a warning look and answered:
"Dougras Enrriott, the former king of Nertull, was not well liked by his subjects. He was rather more prone to vice and waste than to caring for his people. His only heir died some time ago, it is said that during a drunken brawl, but it is only a rumor."
A rumor that he undoubtedly believed and spread.
"In any case, king Dougras suffered a heart attack due to his unsuccessful lifestyle about... how many years ago now?"
"One year," said Rodion.
"Yes, exactly. With no heirs, it looked like a war of succession was about to take place, so the council was forced to reveal one of the former king's worst secrets: given his reputation as a womanizer, it was not surprising that he had... had carnal relations with one of the workers of an estate he visited."
I was about to shoot her an exasperated look for using such cautious terms, but restrained myself when I saw that Clairess had blushed. My friend was definitely too innocent. That time she asked me if I was a maid, she almost had to spell it out. I didn't even want to imagine how she would react if she walked into one of the taverns in town, where drunks sang raunchy songs and harlots sat at the bar.
"That worker had a son of royal blood, as evidenced by the birthmark on his face. It took only a few days to declare him Aaron Enrriott I, and to crown him king of Nertull. To a boy of only eleven years old! All the councilors declared themselves, of course, regents immediately."
"Poor boy," Rodion sighed. "His father couldn't rule properly as an adult, how could they expect him to do it as a child?"
"I'm sure king Aaron prefers the palace to a labor camp, I see no reason to pity him," Cadmot snorted, finishing a glass of wine, of which he seemed to have lost count.
"And thanks to him, the Insurrection has the upper hand," nodded Eneas, clinking his glass against his own.
I could already see the honor and righteousness of which the Insurrection boasted so much.
When the sun was already bleeding over the sea, Eneas' ship turned around to return to land. Although it didn't happen often, I was eager to return to the Aursong mansion. It wasn't because I disliked boats: I didn't usually get seasick, and I didn't mind the salty smell of the waves; and sometimes, moving through the sea and feeling the wind in my face gave me a certain sense of freedom.
Leaning on the railing, observing the foam that the mascaron left in its wake, I searched for that feeling. I gave up almost instantly, aware that I was not going to find it. I may have drifted away from the island, but trouble had followed me out to sea.
In fact, far from feeling relaxed, I was nervous. My fingers twitched sporadically, I found myself gritting my teeth for no apparent reason. It was as if I was caged in that boat. I wanted so badly to have a mirror on me, when had I become so dependent on these deadly objects? It was as if I was unprotected, as if I desperately needed the certainty that I could kill if I wanted to. The magic was nervous too, tantalizing around me as if looking for a crystal to cling to.
"Are you upset?"
Although startled, I did not move when I heard Eneas' voice behind me. I didn't answer even when he leaned against the wood beside me and analyzed me with his gaze.
"Know that the brothers are below deck patting Cadmot on the back, so you can talk to me straight."
I almost smiled as I recalled the image of young Aursong expelling the contents of his stomach.
"Talk about what?"
"Are you upset because of what I told you?"
"You never shut your mouth, Eneas, you can't expect me to remember everything you say."
The prince wrinkled the side of his nose.
"You are. Don't expect me to apologize, you didn't measure your words nor was it the right time to pronounce them. It's something you have to learn, and I plan to correct you even if we are in public."
I smiled with a calmness I didn't feel.
"You make a big deal out of yourself. I have more reasons to be upset besides you."
"For example?"
"I don't have to answer that."
"Nothing has happened to you on this ship to irritate you. I know because I've kept an eye on you. And a pushy Clariess and a drunken Cadmot is nothing you haven't dealt with before. Even Rodion has kept his distance. I'm disappointed."
"Disappointed?"
Eneas was serious, but in his eyes I could see the darkness. I had learned to see it even in the most unexpected places. In him I saw cruelty. No, not exactly cruelty. That was evil. He didn't enjoy inflicting pain, he preferred others to do the dirty work. He liked to witness it, savor it and spread tares.
"You Aursong people are wonderful."
"I am not..."
"Clariess, so fragile and obedient, on the edge of an abyss because of her fear and her secrets. Cadmot, filled with envy of his older brother, in such need of recognition. Rodion, who has always been instilled in him that he had to be an example to follow, but he feels weak and so in love with you that it's torture. And you... with all that hate, anger, and heartbreak. The formula for disaster. I brought you in here as my own little circus. Yet nothing has happened. That's why I'm disappointed."
For a moment my jaw dropped, but I managed to say:
"You are despicable."
"Really? Because everyone thinks I'm wonderful."
He took a step closer to me, with a smile that made my hair stand on end. I stepped back almost without realizing it.
"Don't come near me."
"What are you going to do to stop me?"
I forced myself to stay still, even though Eneas advanced until our noses almost touched. The prince gave off a smell that was a mixture of expensive wine, and, for some reason, rust. I grimaced. The reddish light of the sky reflected off his face, and I was reminded for a second of an infernal being. I brushed those thoughts aside. Eneas was not a demon or a monster. He was just a man, a powerful man with a dangerous immunity, but a man. Just that, and I had no reason to fear him. It would be I who would teach him to fear me.
"You don't want to find out."
"On the contrary, I am looking forward to it."
"What do you want?"
He raised an insufferable dark eyebrow.
"It may not have occurred to you with all the pressure of war, but your powers are not your only attraction."
His gaze descended to my lips, then lower. I felt a sudden chill as I figured out what he must be thinking.
"Forget about it."
"Come on, you're my fiancée. You can't blame me for appreciating beauty" His hand flew to my chin. "Especially a beauty that belongs to me."
"I do not belong to you."
"You'll come to terms with it," I gritted my teeth and he laughed softly. "You've been so wild lately."
"Scared?"
"Annoyed. I hope the training is not giving you too many wings. Just so you're clear, Persie: you're no match for anyone. Your most notable victim has been a mannequin. You are nowhere near as powerful as the Princess, let alone the Queen."
"I'm sorry I can't be of help in your little battles, Eneas.
"It seems to me that you are more sorry than me," he leaned down to almost touch my ear. EI know you crave power. You crave it with all your might. No wonder you're drunk with those feelings after being so helpless. I'm sure you feel powerful. Invincible. Let it be clear to you that this is not so."
My fingernails dug painfully into the palms of my hands.
"You are nothing. Maybe someday you'll be worthy of what I'm about to bestow upon you, maybe you'll become the queen Ethryant needs. But you're not yet, so I'd appreciate some humility on your part."
"You have no right to talk about humility."
I felt his breath as he laughed.
"Do you think I don't know what goes through your mind when you look at me? I know you hate me and you're dying to try your powers on me, but I wouldn't if I were you."
"Get out of the way right now or you'll regret it."
"Oh, really?"
To my surprise, Eneas pulled out of his jacket pocket a small mirror.
"What are you doing?"
"Here you are," he said, placing it in my hand. "I didn't bring you with me just to amuse myself. You need a lesson in humility."
I watched my reflection transform, those moon-like eyes met mine. Her expression was not as sly as usual. Now she was alert, ready for whatever I commanded.
"Come on, Persie. Prove to me that you are as powerful as you think you are, that you are a real witch."
I hesitated. It was obvious that Eneas had some intention, I didn't trust him in the least. Besides, the Aursong were below deck. I was sure it was a trap. After hastily mulling it over, I lowered the mirror and opened my mouth to retort, but the prince beat me to it.
"Very slow."
Then he pushed me. I lost my balance and fell overboard until I was engulfed by the waves.
I floated up and took a desperate gasp of air. I had managed to keep the mirror in my hand, but it made swimming difficult. The sea was rough around the boat, and my dress had become heavy.
"Persie!!!!!"
Eneas was leaning out on deck, as if scared to death.
"Help! Somebody help her, Persie has fallen!"
"Damn pig!"
Why hadn't I pushed him before?
The boat had drifted a little away, but the crew stopped it, alerted by the prince's screams. I hated it a little more with each stroke I took in the direction of the ship. However, those waves seemed determined to stop me. Besides, I was not particularly good at swimming. Exhausted, I stopped for a moment and looked in the mirror. My reflection looked just like me, struggling to stay afloat. And I was furious
"Help me," I said, letting salt water run into my mouth. "Please help me."
But what use was magic to me in that situation? My powers were good for little more than killing, and I certainly couldn't magically lift myself out of the water and back on deck. I had my limits, and Eneas had gotten what he wanted: to prove them to me. If he had wanted to, he might not have raised the alarm and left me there until a crew member noticed.
I grunted at the top of my lungs and cursed at least half the island before swimming on to bridge the distance between me and the boat. The Aursong were leaning over the side. I witnessed with eyes like saucers as Rodion took off his jacket and jumped into the sea. I tucked the mirror under my bra as fast as I could as he swam towards me with remarkable skill.
"What are you supposed to do?"
He ignored me, wrapped an arm around my waist and dragged me back to the boat, but I was too angry to accept help.
"I know how to swim, you idiot! Let go of me!"
"Not the time, Persie!"
"I swear, if you don't let go right now, I'll climb on top of you, sink you, and won't let go until you drown!"
Rodion gave me a shocked look, but had the decency to stand back and let me kick on my own. The crew had thrown us a rope, and in the end I had to let him hold me as we were hoisted up to the deck. Rodion's arms did not falter around me, and floated between us the memory of many other embraces we had shared. I felt a ghost of what I had experienced as I snuggled against him on our cliff in search of warmth and safety, of a place where nightmares could not reach me. I looked into his eyes before he let go of me and, for the first time, that deep black seemed to me the same as the one in Fyodor and Cadmot's eyes. His gaze had always seemed to me more lively and kind, warmer. All that was still there, but I saw them the same anyway.
"How could you think of that, Rodion?" Clariess exclaimed, and she was the first to rush forward and hug both of us, so she got wet too. "Persie, are you all right?"
"Yes, relax."
"What happened?"
I exchanged a glance with Eneas. His expression of relief and concern was so convincing that it surprised me, but I also noticed a warning.
"I slipped."
"How?"
"Come, Persie," said the prince, and I obeyed without answering the question. Some sailors brought me some blankets, and I wrapped them around me as Eneas ordered me to be taken to his cabin and the ship to turn around. Rodion stood behind me discreetly and escorted me. He put a hand on my shoulder, and, to my regret, I found it reassuring.
The room in the bowels of the ship was more luxurious than he expected, almost like one of the rooms in his mansion. The color green clearly predominated, there was a bed, an office desk and a bookshelf full of books. I sat in the chair behind the desk and looked out the windows at the sea, curled up in my blanket. I had to admit it: that incident had shattered my pride. Eneas was right. He already wanted to call me a witch and I hadn't even been able to defend myself against him. I was still in his hands, he had given me a mirror and I hadn't had the courage to use it. And did I really want to be a witch anyway? Did I want to be a monster, the thing they warned children about with words of death and darkness? Did I want to get blood on my hands, either for Fyodor or for myself?
The fact that the answer I found inside me was "yes" threw me off at first, but it had been those people, that island, who had created the evil that had crawled into my heart and poisoned it. I represented everything that the Insurrection considered evil and wrong, an object of contempt. I preferred to be a monster. A thousand times. That, if they despised me, they would do it, for once, for a reason that I could understand, that I could decide. Eneas was right: I had not yet become what magic promised me, but I would. And when that happened, I would sink my hands in blood and reclaim it as payment for years reduced to shadows.
I wiped off my smile when Eneas entered the cabin. There was no longer any trace of all that worry.
"Has your dip made you think again?"
The witch wanted to smile and respond with icy calm, but now it was the lady-in-waiting's turn.
"You're crazy, how could you think of doing something like that?"
"You've earned it for your behavior these days."
"I haven't done anything!"
"I'll tell you what I want you to do: you will not ask questions on subjects that don't concern you, you will make an effort when training with Scilla and, when we are in public, you will be the living image of silence and courtesy, is that clear?"
As if resisting to answer, I looked away.
"Something could have happened to me."
"With Rodion Aursong wishing to be a hero in your eyes, allow me to doubt it."
"I'm supposed to be your fiancée, why did you do it?"
One of his eyebrows lowered.
"You had never shown much enthusiasm for being one."
"I'm not sorry. But it doesn't give you the right to throw me off a damn boat."
"Watch your words," he warned, but I sensed that the resignation carefully hidden in my words encouraged him. "Where is my mirror?"
"At the bottom of the sea. Why did you have one?"
"You ask too many questions for my taste."
I endured his analysis looking for a sign that he was lying, and hoped I wasn't offering it.
"I'm sorry if it seems a bit hypoc..."
"Silence."
I closed my mouth, and he nodded to himself.
"I do notice that you are more obedient."
I ducked my head, twisting my head, but he was letting his guard down.
"I don't want any of this. I don't even want to be a witch. Why would I? Everyone hates me. Even you hate me."
"We have come to accept that magic is a necessary evil," replied Eneas, conciliatory. "We need it to confront the Queen and, therefore, we need you."
"You don't need me. I can barely defend myself and..."
"Well, you'd better learn," he interrupted me, suddenly dry. "Stop playing with our time and take responsibility for who you are. The world as we know it has a deadline, and you'd better respect it. There is no room for traitors in the Insurrection, remember that."
I knew he was referring to my father, so I couldn't help but look at him with the darkest rage, dropping my affected performance. The prince's gaze also darkened as he approached me.
"And as for being my fiancée, I should warn you that it is an immovable fact. You are going to marry me, Persie, and no rebellion or tantrum will change that. You will be princess of Ethryant by my side and you will fight alongside the Insurrection to take it back. The Ethryn will have a witch queen, but this time a little more docile."
He was doing it, again he was getting closer than necessary. When there were barely a couple of centimeters between our faces, he whispered:
"Did I express myself well?"
And, before I could expose him in the most colorful way possible what I thought of him, he abruptly covered my mouth with his own.
CHAPTER 17
My cry of surprise died in my throat, and for a second I couldn't even react. It was only when Eneas' lips moved over mine and one of his hands gripped my hip that I processed what was happening. The man I hated the most was kissing me.
I put a hand on his chest in an attempt to get him to pull away, but he bit down hard on my lower lip, hurting me. When he slid a hand down the side of the soaked bodice of my dress, I turned my face away, kicked him in the knee and pushed him as hard as I could. I got him to move away, stood up from the chair and took a defensive stance. My mouth tasted like blood.
Eneas staggered and stared at me, with a terrifying restrained rage. I felt it too, but to him I showed a trembling attitude with some fear, just enough not to ruin my performance from before, but also to make him think twice before approaching me. That didn't mean that, if he ever thought of trying that again, I wouldn't defend myself tooth and nail no matter what the consequences. I was completely disgusted by what had just happened, and horrified to think what his intentions might have been. The meters between us didn't seem like enough, but just then someone knocked on the door.
"Your Highness? We are about to dock, Lady Persie should be up shortly."
"That will be done," he replied, without taking his eyes off me. He went to the door and, before leaving, he said: "You and I are gonna have a talk."
Once alone, I sat down again and put a hand over my heart, which was beating wildly. Never had any man other than Rodion dared to kiss me or touch me like that. And I, accustomed to warmth and gentleness, was unsettled by the disdain and rudeness the prince had shown me.
I didn't expect anything else if I married him. The hatred between us would never change, would never go away. I wasn't going to spend my whole life being treated like this, I decided. I wasn't going to allow it.
My hand went from my heart to the side of the bodice that Eneas had not touched. I instantly felt the hardness that betrayed the mirror underneath. Had he touched me simply because he wanted to... or to check if I had lied to him? Was he really that twisted? It was clear to me that the answer to that question was yes.
I said nothing to her as I got off the boat, nor did I speak to any of the Aursongs on the way home, where a rebuke awaited me from Gracelie about the behavior of a lady, the dignity of the family, and how tremendously undeserving I was of the honor that had been bestowed upon me. I endured it impassively, barely listening: what had happened on the boat had dulled my mind, and I could think of nothing else, so my stomach churned over and over again.
Once in my room, I made Loana leave. Just because I had become noble, I had not forgotten how to undress, and, besides, I was not going to risk her seeing the mirror that, as soon as she came out, I put under my mattress, next to Lokih's. I already had two forbidden objects in my possession, and I planned to accumulate more.
As soon as I lay down in bed that night, I knew I would not be able to sleep. I had too many things to think about, and things I didn't want to think about. If this had happened to me a few months ago, I would have snuck up to Clariess' room, she would have lit a candle, and we would have spent hours talking quietly. The next morning, she'd plead a migraine to stay in bed longer, which would mean getting out of her lessons, and I'd go pretend to babysit her so we could laugh all day. But, of course, that was when I didn't have a last name, wore brown, and we didn't sleep in the same wing of the house.
I tried futilely to fall asleep so that I could talk to the Dream Man, but, by the time the moon was high in the sky, like a pearl set in black velvet, I was still wide awake. My insomnia still tormented me mercilessly, and probably the next day I would have shadows under my eyes and in them, which would make anyone who pretended to approach me recoil. I was used to it, as that was practically my natural state.
I didn't need to think too hard to know the reason. What that day that wicked prince had made me feel that day was helpless, and I hated it. I was a witch and I couldn't defend myself, I was noble and I was being used. I had enough. If things had to change, they would that night.
I stood up feeling a sharp determination, cold as steel. I searched my dresser for a winter cloak with inside pockets, and inside I stowed the two mirrors. I was so used to sneaking around that it didn't take me long to leave the house through the service door in the direction of the Vint mountain forest. When I arrived at the place where I trained with Scilla, I was overcome with frustration when I saw that the mirrors had been taken. I should have known better. if my teacher already made sure to cover them whenever possible, I wasn't going to leave them lying there, not with so many superstitions about how, if you saw yourself reflected in the glass too long, a white-haired witch would come out of it and pounce on you, or that your soul would be trapped inside the mirror, or that Furya could see you through it.
Luckily, the mannequins that I had pretended were the Galatean were still there. A couple of them were smashed to pieces, the ones that my reflection had been the most furious with. I placed myself in the center of that army in a way, and held up a mirror on each side. I knew without having to look that my reflection had already transformed into both of them. I knew because the magic took hold, as if it had found something to hold on to and was ready to act. It made me feel safe, feel like I had my back. There was no longer Scilla or Fyodor to bother me. There was the wind, the moon, the darkness, the magic, and me. I took a deep breath, and the forest turned silver.
I glanced at one of the mirrors, and my reflection needed no more than that to pounce like a flash on the nearest mannequin. It threw it against two others, knocking them all over, and I hoped they hadn't been too badly damaged, otherwise Scilla would notice the next morning.
I did not stand still. I used the mirrors, turned with them, played with the angles of the reflections as I had learned. I kept moving my arms in a deadly dance in which the starlight was projected on the glass. I had to keep up with the pale version of me so as not to interrupt its fierce, imaginary battle, and with such small mirrors that wasn't easy. Soon I felt like I was in a dance lesson, but one that required a lot of concentration and where a dark, anxious power welled up from every pore of my skin. I gave myself to that moment with all my might, bestowing a face on every doll I made fall. I was no longer tired. The magic was a maelstrom, but it didn't drag me down, it drove me to bring out everything I had.
What I felt during the training was unparalleled to that, to that fullness. My technique was not perfect, but for the first time in centuries it was as if all the chaos had taken a form that I could handle. It may have seemed horrible and violent to others, but it felt right to me.
It took me less time than last time to get all the fake Galatean to end up on the floor. I lowered the mirrors, breathing shakily and slowly, sketching a smile.
Applause echoed through the clearing. Instantly I raised the two objects again, and made the glare of my eyes illuminate the clearing.
"Who's there?" I exclaimed, although I already figured it out.
Indeed, it didn't take me long to discover a ruby red gaze among the trees, pale skin under the moon and messy scarlet hair.
"Impressive," was all he had time to say before my reflection went for him, reduced to a swift white blur. I pulled him out of the thicket and, grabbing him by the neck, slammed him against a nearby log. Although his feet barely grazed the ground, he let out a wry laugh. - Do you really want to go that way? Because the last time you used your powers on me?
"Silence," I cut him off, without lowering the mirror. "Following me again, Zarius, when are you going to leave me alone?"
"When you really want me to, gorgeous."
I cocked my head to one side, wary.
"What makes you think I don't?"
"Not that I think it's bad, but I think your reflection wants to get indecent with me."
Looking in the mirror, I found to my horror that he was indeed smiling, and one of his hands was sliding down Lokih's black cloth-covered chest. I lowered it, embarrassed. Why did my magic have to react that way? He dropped to the floor with enviable elegance and announced:
"For the record, I wasn't complaining."
"What are you doing here, Lokih?"
"I think it was a good way for us to meet again after such a long time."
"Answer the damn question."
His smile made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. That smile was the very symbol of Ethryant. He could promise you death or make your darkest thoughts come true. It fascinated me, but nowhere near as much as he did.
"The excuse that I was just passing through has been used up, so I'll admit it: I followed you."
"You are a..."
"Before you start flattering me, Aursong security sucks. Besides, I do it because I care about you."
"You don't give a shit about me."
"I've already told the truth, I'm not responsible for whether you believe it or not," he replied, pacing the clearing. A cloak as black as night billowed behind him. "But I see the dummies can go about protecting their families."
"I figured it was you."
"You must have been excited. I'm curious about that aggressiveness of yours."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"Look who's talking: the curious Persie, who kept coming to my store to read books about her worst enemy."
I gritted my teeth. I was fed up with so much mystery.
"If you've seen it, I guess that curiosity of yours is satiated."
"Not in the least." Those eyes like embers swept me up and down. "You're terrifying, Persie."
"You say it as if it were a compliment."
"There is magnificence in destruction, sometimes even in death. You understand that, I know from what you just did. You sorcerers embody that. And what you have done now... was a promise."
"I am not like Queen Furya."
"No one is. But no one is like you either."
I took a step toward him, twirling the mirrors between my fingers.
"Always so fawning and pandering, thinking that if you tell me what you think I want to hear I'll forget a long list of lies and betrayals."
"Do you blame me for trying? If I thought it could work, you'd have me on my knees at your feet, begging your forgiveness."
"I think you're too proud to do it, but you could give it a try."
He too approached, emanating an intrigued wariness.
"My pride would gladly take it, believe me, but I doubt that's what you want."
"Maybe I like men to bow down to me."
"If that were what you were longing for, the poor captain's knees would be raw by now, he's desperate to get you back."
I laughed, mocking.
"He loves my fiancé too much to do so."
"How little you know about love. That only makes the guilt eat away at him even more."
"And I suppose you know all about it, don't you?"
Suddenly, Lokih dropped to his knees on the grass and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know, what do you think?"
I snorted, even though I knew I was blushing.
"Mmm, no. It doesn't work."
"But you like it," he replied, getting up.
"Is there any woman who doesn't like to have a man at her feet?"
"I don't think so, but you have to choose well before whom you kneel."
He looked at the mannequins.
"So they expect to prepare you for a war? This is more like playing dolls. Pathetic."
"As you can understand, no one has volunteered," I grunted, annoyed by the comment. I wasn't embarrassed for him to see what I had done, he even seemed to like it in a way I didn't quite understand.
"I'll do it, what do you think?"
"I don't think so."
"Come on, gorgeous, are you worried about your reflection getting out of hand?"
"I do it so you can get up tomorrow."
He laughed and took off his cloak, without me losing detail of the gesture. Underneath, two crossed sword scabbards hung from his back.
"It sounds like a challenge; I love it."
"Why do you have...?"
With obvious skill, he drew. The blades were thin, but clearly lethal.
"You see, Persie, your technique is not bad for a beginner, but you haven't learned all your skills yet."
"What's the matter, are you an exper...?"
Lokih made a swift movement with his sword. He struck Eneas0 mirror, miraculously missing my hand. The blow threw it upward, and I watched it fall, knowing it would shatter to pieces on the ground.
"No!" I exclaimed, instinctively reaching out my hand.
As if it had heard me, the fall stopped. The mirror hovered in the air, motionless. I stared at it, dumbfounded.
"I... did that?"
"I have had the privilege of beholding the Princess in action. The crystal is the essence of your power, you control it at will."
I went to pick up the mirror, but, following the gesture, it moved away.
"What's wrong with it?"
"You have to attract it."
"I don't know how to do that."
"I'm not a sorcerer, I'm not too sure either, but being able to move the mirrors without touching them will mean you won't have to hold them in your hand while you fight."
I tried waving a finger in my direction, and my mirror slid through the air to my side.
"It's unbelievable. How come I wasn't taught this before?"
"I am not interested in analyzing Scilla Erise's teaching method. Now that you have a bit of an advantage..." He adopted a perfect combat position with his swords. "... shall we proceed?
I laughed, malevolently, and made both mirrors hover above my hands. My eyes, now silver, cast a defiant gaze into his, red and glowing. In each mirror my hair turned white, and my reflection lunged at Lokih, but not before grabbing a mannequin arm from the ground, this time with clear intent to attack him. I mimicked her, grabbing a fallen wooden spear, while Lokih dodged my reflection's first lunge. his gaze was fixed on the mirrors, which floated beside me, so I could see him. To me, he was defending himself from a wooden arm. He rolled on the ground to get out of the way of it, and instead came at me with swords at the ready, but he didn't have time to bring them down because he was knocked down.
He struggled against his attacker to get to his feet, and parried the blows of the arm with his swords. I stood guard with my spear firmly gripped, and took advantage of his distraction to try a trick that had just occurred to me. With a gesture, I made the mirror he had given me shoot out and hit him in the back. He was startled, but managed to parry a thrust aimed at his stomach.
I controlled the fight from the one I had stolen a few hours ago. My reflex was inhumanly fast, but I could tell that Lokih knew his way around weapons. What's more, I could swear he was very well trained. He did not hesitate in any of his gestures, he was able to defend himself from that supernatural being by occasionally glancing at the crystal. If that demonstration was meant to impress me, he was succeeding.
Trying to take him down was much more complicated than trying to take down the dummies. The reflection was doing most of the work, but it required great concentration on my part. I felt the tug of magic continuously, spilled darkness whose drops made my reflection become a relentless warrior.
The latter, at one point, decided to throw the wooden arm against Lokih and fight using nothing but her own strength. He looked puzzled for a moment. He could no longer use his arm to know where he was without turning to the mirrors. He threw broad thrusts around it, preventing it from approaching. The white-haired girl laughed under her breath, and launched a direct kick at his wrist, forcing him to drop one of the blades. Still, the fight dragged on, and Lokih was slowly losing ground. He had to start backing away, and I noticed that my reflection was forcing him closer to me. Without losing sight of the mirror, I used the spear to launch a direct blow at his legs. He parried it with the only sword he had left, giving my doppelganger the perfect opportunity to knock him off balance. He seemed to steady himself and intended to raise the sword, so after I had him snatch it away, I lunged at him grabbing his waist at the same time my reflection tripped him.
I closed my eyes before the impact, and hardly dared to open them. Both Lokih and I had fallen, he on the grass and I on top of him. My hands were resting on the sides of his head, I had one leg between his, and my hair was falling all the way to the ground. My mirrors were between the wooden bodies, but I didn't think about them. My gaze was fixed on that eternal and now wavering smile, and, my attention, on the narrow space between us.
"I won," I agreed to say.
"I've given you truce and you know it," he whispered, but I knew he wasn't thinking about that either. In the silence that ensued I could hear my own breath hitching and my pulse racing with adrenaline. I moistened my lips, knowing from the way his eyes roamed exactly what I was thinking. Desire swirled in my chest in barely a second, and its intensity overwhelmed me. I had struggled to admit to myself that, even while with Rodion, I was irrepressibly drawn to the ethryn I had known as Markov Zarius, to his words and his mystery. He had not been discreet about it, with his blatant innuendoes and constant flirting, but I could also sense that there was something between us, something I dared not name.
I swallowed and reached out a hand. I brushed my fingers over the locks that slid down his forehead, his scarred cheeks, his jaw and his pale throat. At some point his hand had gone under the cape, down to the thin fabric of the nightgown draped over my hip. My skin burned under his touch, which was growing firmer the more I traced his ethereal features. When the silvery light came to my eyes, no shadow hid them from me. I saw his nut rise and fall, his lips tighten as if he was holding back. This was the Lokih without masks or excuses with whom fate kept tripping me up, with whom irritation mingled with another tangle of feelings that left me breathless. We kept each other's secrets, understood each other without words and listened to the stories we had to tell. I wanted that. As much as I longed for revenge.
Gently and hesitantly, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear taking the opportunity to sink his fingers into my hair, He drew my face to his with a darkened gaze, and I let him. I closed my eyes, but I knew he was smiling when our breaths mingled.
Like a flash, the memory of how Eneas had kissed me a few hours ago, of the disgust and helplessness I had felt, flashed through my mind and I pulled away abruptly. His hand on the back of my neck relented, and his expression became serious.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, embarrassed.
"Are you all right?" he asked instead. I couldn't lie to him, so I didn't say anything. He sat up a little, and I straddled him, but I didn't get up. Whatever we had been about to do, I had wanted to do it. I had wanted him to kiss me, to make me forget as long as possible where I was and what I was. I knew he had wanted to do it too, but I didn't feel capable with that memory so fresh. "Persie, look at me."
I plucked up the courage to do so, and found no trace of reproach in the understanding smile he gave me.
"I promise I will never do anything you won't let me do."
"What a gentleman," I tried to tease.
"Do you prefer me to behave like a ruffian?" he replied, still smiling and in a reassuring tone. I was about to laugh, but I preferred to say:
"It's not that I don't want... this."
"I know."
"It's just that... at this moment..."
Before I finished the sentence, Lokih put a hand on my cheek and kissed me on the forehead.
"You need not explain yourself to me, Persie. I will not deny that I am disappointed, and that just now I am making a great effort not to do anything the mention of which would corrupt the ears of an insurrectionist lady..."
There it was again. That irritating ethryn and my urge to slap him.
"You are a ruffian, of that I have no doubt."
"... but I don't mind admitting that I want you as much as I admire you, and that, if there is something that concerns you, I must respect it."
I swallowed hard. It was very different to listen to his continuous rolling of the eyes and hear him say those things. Since when were the Ethryn so correct?
I had heard dozens of things like that from Rodion, but this one certainly had an effect I had never felt with him. What was it that Lokih felt for me? The need to name it was less pressing than I thought, and so I decided to let it be. One more dilemma and I would have migraines for the rest of my life.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Since it's decided that nothing interesting is going to happen on this floor, I need to get up. I was willing to endure it for you, but I've had a wooden foot nailed to my back ever since you threw me down."
I sniggered, and helped him up. Once we were both standing, he brushed my hair away from my face with unexpected tenderness.
"You can brag about defeating me, gorgeous."
"I know. I'm sorry I can't say the same," I said, trying to sound haughty, but my voice wavered until his hand stopped brushing my temple.
"You still have a lot to learn, but, when you do, you will win the war you choose to fight."
"I am not going to fight in any war" This time my voice sounded completely firm. "I will not become Fyodor's pawn for a land I have never seen. Ethryant may still be subjugated, but I do not intend to remain so. I will not fight for any of the people who have treated me like a prisoner. I am not interested in war, I just want to make them pay."
"Who?"
"All of them."
Lokih nodded as if he understood.
"It's your decision."
"I never had the means to defend myself. Now I do, and I'm not going to stand still."
We were silent. He seemed deep in thought, and I was beginning to wonder if I should have told him those things, until he answered:
"In that case, I think you'll put what I've brought you to good use."
He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. Out from among the branches came Mun, with a small but thick book in his claws. He squawked in my direction by way of greeting before handing his cargo to his master.
"What is it?"
"I sent you to Mun last night to tell you about a gift that might help you with your magic. This is what I meant."
"I have learned to be wary of your gifts, Mr. Zarius."
"You've just put the last one to very good use. Come on, Persie," he insisted, waving the book around as if it were a treat tempting a child. "If you found 'The Order of Krysthei' inappropriate, you're going to love this one."
I sighed, exasperated, and extended my hand, in which he deposited the tome with parsimony. Before opening it, I examined it. It was three fingers thick, but its size reminded me of a travel guide, or a children's book. On the black leather cover was a sharp white symbol.
I opened the book to the first page, on which, written in elegant and precise calligraphy, it read:
'Year 25 of the Era of Honir.'
"Is it a diary?"
"Indeed. I bet you can't guess whose."
'I must have been locked up for a week, but I've lost track of time. I confuse the days because none of them is different from the others. I don't leave my cell. I don't want to see the other prisoners, I don't want them to see me. I want them to forget my presence. When they do, I will act.'
"No name appears."
"You'll have to figure out who wrote it."
Deeply intrigued, I read on.
'No one in this place expects me to hide a notebook. I doubt they even expect me to know how to write. I stole it from the office they took me to recently, the office of the man who rules here. I'm sick of always being alone with my thoughts. Besides, I miss having something to do. What I miss most is music. Rasken isn't quiet, but I haven't heard a single note.'
"Is Rasken a prison?"
"Yes, it is in Ethryant."
'In the prison I was in before there were only women, but they brought me here when they saw they couldn't contain me. This one can't either, but I'll pretend for now. It will be just like when I was with mom and the monster: if I don't talk, they don't see me. Because they're blind. All of them. I'd like to be blind too, but I'm not. If I were, I wouldn't have witnessed so many horrors or seen all the things that are wrong. There are too many.
Between the prison bars I heard something. Something that I think helped me understand what happened to me. It reminded me of the stories mom used to tell me before she stopped talking altogether: the ones about people finding shrines or special objects that contained the ancient gods. I liked them, but the monster was obsessed. His riders marched at night in search of the gods. A few months ago, they found one of them. They brought home a mirror that was thousands of years old. He didn't know how to use it. He was furious for days until I managed to get close to the mirror.
The god inside was a little weird. He said it was an entity created by a Faction, but I'm not sure what that means. He seemed to like me better than the monster, because he convinced me to touch the crystal.
The monster died that night.'
The page continued, but I stopped reading. Shocked, I made some quick calculations.
"The Era of Honir," I muttered. "It ended twenty-two years ago. If it lasted thirty-three, it means... this diary is thirty years old."
"That's right."
I looked at Lokih sharply and asked:
"This was written by Queen Furya, wasn't it?"
He smiled an approving smile.
"You hold in your hands the only existing transcript of the original journal. The symbol on the cover is the emblem of the Age of Furya. It is even more valuable than the phoenix tears."
"How?"
"I am an excellent merchant."
I stared at the book in my hands, still unable to believe that I had just read words written by the greatest assassin in the world, the most powerful, feared and bloodthirsty woman in all the kingdoms. It seemed so mundane, so far removed from the terrifying stories I had heard.
"Not much is known about the Queen's past, but this diary confirms that she spent some years in Rasken before declaring war on Honir."
"Why?"
"I suspect because of the facts you have just read."
"It says she killed a monster, what did she mean?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know. I only know that when she entered Rasken and started writing this diary, she was sixteen years old."
A little girl. A little girl younger than me, Clariess' age, had become a witch, killed a monster and gone to prison. It had been a few years before I conquered Ethryant, but...
"You can't be that good of a merchant."
"If you had given me the chance, I would have shown you right now how persuasive and charming I can be."
His rogue's smile was accompanied by an insinuating raise of his eyebrows. I grimaced at him, but secretly regretted not giving him the opportunity to do so.
"Lokih, I'm seriously worried that the day your ego explodes there won't be much left of you."
"Am I worrying you, gorgeous?"
"Can't you just...? It doesn't matter. Why did you give me something so valuable?"
"No one could put it to better use. The most valuable experiences of the young Furya are recorded there: it was in Rasken that she learned to master her powers and become what she is today, and it is all recorded in her diary. It was her way of keeping sane and not sinking into the hell she lived through. You can too. These pages can help you control your magic, help you get through it all. Remember, that girl was in a far more precarious situation than you, and look at her now."
"With hands full of blood and a trail of death and pain in her way," I replied. Surely I did not expect anything different for me. I was past that phase where I felt a certain admiration for the Queen and wanted to know things about her. I could not forget what she was, a murderer and a monster, nor what she was to me, my rival in the last battle and the one who took my family from me. But if in that book was how she managed to master that dark power that now defined my identity, I was certainly going to use it. "Are you sure I can keep it?"
"Of course. As far as I'm concerned, it belongs to you now."
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. Lokih wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me close to him. My heart fluttered out of control. That ethryn could make me feel with an unknown, thrilling intensity. I pressed my lips against his cheek and whispered without pulling away:
"Thank you."
"It's nothing, if you asked me, I would do anything for you. You deserve that and more, and I don't mind waiting for you."
"Lokih...
"I've never met anyone like you, Persie. I never will. I promise I will never stop fighting for your forgiveness, to be worthy of you and for the time when you will let me kiss you."
"I've never met anyone like you either, and I want to fight for us too."
With a smile, he kissed me again on the forehead, a gesture I already associated with his protection and the calm he offered me. He offered me that and more.
I returned to the mansion with my head in the clouds, taking Furya' s journal with me. I could no longer ignore the fact that Lokih had been working his way into me for some time. Although I wasn't sure if it was possible to fight for "us," it was something I really wanted to try. Was I falling in love with him? It was a word that overwhelmed me. What I felt for him had nothing to do with what I felt for Rodion. Where in one I found warmth, in the other I found fire. Where one tried his best not to argue, the other wanted to listen to me. One wanted to be a hero and the other wanted... to be with me.
It was completely different, and I felt so inexperienced that I didn't think I could define it yet.
Back in my room, I lay down on my bed and opened the black book to the page where I had left it. I reread what I had written about Rasken, his mother's stories, the monster and the entity, but the rest continued as is:
'Magic is beautiful. It is an extension of me, obeying even the slightest of my desires. My instinct now rules the world around me. Killing is easy. Very easy. No one will ever hurt me again, everyone is at my mercy. I had not felt alive until that moment. I am something these corrupted people have never seen. My soul has changed, it is dark and different. It has split, as if there is a part of me that exists on its own. Sometimes it's scary. At others I barely notice it. But others it's comforting. I think that part might be the one I see when I reflect in the glass.
I dare not think of the consequences. He warned me that there would be consequences, but he didn't tell me what they would be. That doesn't matter now. If I start worrying about anything else I won't be able to stand being cooped up here. I have to go, I have to get out. I want the world to meet this new me. I hate it, I hate everything I've seen out there, I hate everything this kingdom allows. I can't take it anymore. I've spent my whole life holding on silently, helplessly, unable to say anything. Compared to what I am now, I have been a weak, pathetic, voiceless creature. I'm not going to be like that anymore. Never again. I will destroy everything that has hurt me, I plan to wipe out everyone who allowed it even if it's the last thing I do.
It's over.'