Cillian remained silent, his eyes fixed on my face.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" I asked, feeling self-conscious beneath his intense gaze.
He moved closer and tenderly brushed a strand of hair from my face.
"None of the others bore the mark," he whispered.
"What mark are you talking about? My arms and neck are scarred, but I don't have any on my face."
"You bear the mark of the scales of balance on your temple."
I immediately felt around my face.
"But Cillian, I'm telling you I have no marks on my face. No scars. Nothing."
"The marks are invisible to mortals."
I shook my head. Though I was enjoying my peaceful evening under the stars with Cillian, I began to wonder if these incredible stories were meant to lull me into a false sense of security.
What if they were true? The voices. I heard them myself.
Then the warnings of the Gatemen drifted into my mind.
"You don't believe me?" Cillian asked.
I laughed uneasily.
"Would you if you were in my position? First, you tell me that I'm one of the lost souls, and I must choose one of you to break the curse. Now, I'm a descendant of the stars, the reborn deity Astrea bearing the mark of the balancing scales that only you can see. If I'm a deity, why can't I see the scales, even if no one else can?"
"Because you're trapped in a mortal body and you're seeing through mortal eyes. Open your mind, Tilly. Allow yourself to believe."
Cillian gently traced a triangular pattern high on my left temple. I felt a mild stinging sensation where his fingers touched my skin. I stared at him for a moment, then touched the sensitive area to feel the slightly raised outline of two tiny scales I felt disoriented and my perspective shifted. Suddenly I was flying through the sky, hurtling along at a thousand miles a second. I felt free, powerful, at one with the night sky. The dizzying but not unpleasant sensation lingered a few seconds then vanished.
To be told something was one thing, but to feel it was another. How could I deny it now?
Cillian gently clasped my hands.
"Don't be afraid, Tilly. We believe that you're the reincarnated soul of Astrea. The
powerful connection we felt when we found you confirmed that you were our vanished deity. You also bear the mark of the scales, which are connected to the constellation of balance. The only problem is that we don't know which one of us you're connected to. The curse made us all feel the same about you, so this is why you must choose one of us."
"The curse... what is it? What does it have to do with Astrea and her power? Why did she vanish? If you think I'm Astrea, what does choosing one of you achieve? Will I die? Is it her power you truly seek?"
"You're allowing fear to speak for you," he said.
When Cillian looked at me, suddenly all thoughts, all questions and doubts disappeared and my mind became a blank canvas. There was something on his face that told me that he spoke the truth. I can't explain how I knew he spoke the truth, but I did.
I was too emotional to speak or respond to Cillian's words. Sitting with him in the evening of a world I was no longer sure was even mine, I gazed at the canopy of stars twinkling like feral eyes. Now that I paid attention, I began to discern the patterns of other constellations. I could only wonder if they, too, represented the divine deities Cillian spoke of, their energy scattered throughout the universe.
Cillian merely watched me, his face bathed in the orb's ethereal glow. I gazed at my hands immersed in an aura that reminded me of the Northern Lights that I'd once seen on a visit to Aberdeen. I felt an intense pang of homesickness and blinked away incipient tears. I suddenly felt that sensation of being torn again; like I was two people trapped in one body. Maybe that's exactly what I was.
"I know you've been through so much in such a short time, Tilly, but try to understand what I've told you. This has not been a series of random events. There is a reason why you're here."
"I know what you told me, Cillian," I said, realising how familiar his name sounded as I spoke it. "As a little girl, I loved mythology and stories about the magical creatures of other worlds. I always spent so much time in the woods, drawing, painting, designing outfits that were influenced by those creatures and day dreams." I paused to wipe my eyes. "But never did I imagine I would actually be living one of those stories."
Cillian gazed into my eyes. I should have felt anger, fear, and confusion considering he'd taken me from my home and the life I knew. Yet the emotions churning through me were quite the opposite. I felt powerfully drawn to him, as though I were a piece of metal drawn to a magnet.
I'd never felt such a powerful connection with someone I barely knew and, I had to admit, I'd never felt so attracted to Donte. Whenever I was with Cillian there was no denying my physical response to him, and that feeling more than anything told me that what he had said might just be true.
Certainly, I couldn't deny my burgeoning feelings, but to feel such an intense connection in such a short time aroused my suspicion. Was Cillian using his powers to seduce me? To make the impossible seem possible? Not only did I feel lost and out of place in a strange country, I felt the same about my feelings.
Cillian picked up the orb and rose.
"Let's go," he said, reaching for my hand. "You need to rest, and I have some things to attend to this evening. We'll talk later, but there's still a great deal more you need to know about the curse and the consequences before you make any decisions."
As he clasped my hand, I noticed the ruddy glow from the tattoo on his wrist. Spirals of light wafted from it like miniature forks of lightning. I stared at the phenomenon in fascination.
Cillian noted my scrutiny but said nothing as he led me back through the woods toward the manor.
"What's the rush?" I asked as he hurriedly pulled me along.
"My brothers are returning. I don't want you disturbed by them tonight."
I would be more than happy not to see them for as long as possible, but my pending imprisonment bothered me. I turned to Cillian with a look of concern.
"Please... how much longer must I stay confined to my room? I hate being locked away. I want to be outside and walk among the trees and breathe the fresh air."
He stopped and gently caressed my cheek. The gesture calmed me.
"I promise you won't be confined. Tomorrow you can go outside."
Tomorrow felt like a long time to be locked away without any other form of communication or entertainment. The only thing I could do was ponder my very uncertain future and my equally uncertain past.
I looked at the manor ablaze with light and for a moment, I imagined horse-drawn carriages carrying elegantly dressed guests. Upstairs, my room glowed, the lights pooling through the balcony doors. So often I'd visited stately homes and wondered what it must be like to live in such splendour. Now, I was an unwitting guest.
We entered through French doors leading into the hallway near the spiral staircase. Harp music drifted from a distant location, the angelic sound so pure it almost brought me to tears. I stopped to listen to the divine melody.
"Who's playing that beautiful music?"
Cillian smiled. "Of course, you'd love music. That's no surprise. I'll give Seraphina your regards. She'll no doubt want to play for you."
I glanced toward the closed dining room doors.
"Tilly," he said, his expression now serious. "I'll come for you tomorrow at dinner. You don't have to worry about Fionn and Torin. I'll make sure they don't bother you, for now, anyway."
I turned to him in alarm. "I don't want either of them to ever bother me again," I said, panic infusing me at the mere thought of dealing with them.
"I don't mean to worry you," he said, "but again, you mustn't forget you have a choice to make. You'll need to get to know my brothers so that you can determine who's correct for you."
My mood instantly changed at the thought of having to deal with either of the brothers. Fionn bore a cruel darkness that frightened me, while Torin was an arrogant, obnoxious fool. If I really did have to choose between them, would it even be a choice? Surely it was as obvious to them as it was to me which of them I would choose.
Cillian escorted me to my room in thoughtful silence. His attention was focused on the glowing mark on his wrist and mine on having to see his brothers.
I shifted my thoughts by inspecting the tapestries as we passed. Each time I looked at them I noticed subtle differences. Were these living works of art? I wondered how this could be possible, but the evidence presented itself in the tapestry of the woman with the mask. The direction of her gaze had changed as though she were looking at me.
Startled, I stopped in mid-stride and inspected the tapestry more closely. Cillian seemed to be aware of what was happening, but said nothing. Slowly, I touched the masked face on the tapestry. I felt a brief tingling on my fingertips and abruptly withdrew my hand. When I looked back. the woman's face was in profile.
I froze, then Cillian clasped my hand and led me toward my room.
"Tilly, sorry I've had to end our evening so abruptly."
Opening the door, he bowed and kissed my hand.
"Cillian, please tell me what will happen if I don't choose the right brother? How will I know to make the right decision?"
He looked at me with great emotion. "We'll speak more tomorrow. I promise."
I wanted him to tell me more. Tomorrow felt like an eternity before I could get any answers. I sighed.
"You're quite talented at avoiding my questions," I said with annoyance.
"Not at all. Believe me, your questions will be answered soon enough." He kissed me on the cheek. "Good night."
He closed the door behind me. I heard the lock engage, then his footsteps retreated down the hallway. I looked around the room and knew I couldn't stay confined here indefinitely. Approaching the French doors, I was about to step onto the balcony when I noticed an exquisite array of silk gowns laid across the bed that Seraphina must have left for me. They resembled beautifully iced confectionaries. Decorated with lace, inlaid mother of pearl, and ribbons, the colours ranged from the softest pastel to the vivid jewel.
My fingers hesitantly reached for them. The suppleness and lightness of the fabrics floated in my hand. A faint rose scent emanated from the gowns. I held them against me and turned to gaze at my reflection in the mirror. It was all I could do to keep from gasping.
Remembering Cillian's words about the mark, I closely inspected my temple. Though I traced my finger along my skin, I felt nothing. Then I remembered that he said only immortals could see the mark. I wished that I could too. It would have provided a badly needed affirmation to help me make sense of what was happening.
Trying to distract my mind from these distressing thoughts, I decided to cheer myself up by trying on the dresses. The dresses fit me perfectly and all of them complimented my complexion and hair. I paused when I remembered that these were Seraphina's dresses. Had she gazed at herself in this mirror, wondering the same things that I now did?
Fatigue overwhelmed me. I'd barely done anything today, yet all I wanted to do was sleep. I changed into my sleeping gown and carefully placed the gowns into a hand-painted wardrobe. Leaving the French doors open to allow the scent of the night to comfort me, I admired the nocturnal views for a while.
I turned and faced the room. Everything was beautiful, but I knew I couldn't stare at these surroundings for long before I started to go insane.
I slipped under the covers and into the comforting embrace of the bed. Staring at the ceiling, thoughts of what had happened to me raced in my mind. I mused endlessly about my family, Donte, and how much I missed them. I drifted in and out of a restless sleep.