Gaiane stomped her foot and marched to the well with one last glare at Leo’s open door. That girl was unnerving: one moment she was friendly and gentle, the next she was mocking her.
People are a mess, she thought as she approached the well. She put the bucket down and looked at the weird structure in front of her. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and to be entirely fair she’d never needed to draw water herself. But how hard could that be? She crouched and inspected the cylinder, with a short pipe jutting from the upper end, and a long handle behind it. She stuck a finger in the pipe and found it wet--so the water came out from there.
She stood up and patted the column top with her palm. Nothing happened, and some passer-by cast her perplexed looks. Gaiane put her hands on her hips and smiled at the kids, barefoot and with smears of dirt on their faces, looking at her from a window down the street. They sneered and disappeared from her sight, and her determination faltered a little.
No, I can do it. How difficult can this be?
She tried with the handle, a pole as long as her arm behind the cylinder, curved and fixed to the main structure with a round bolt. Wrapping her fingers tight around its middle, Gaiane leaned against the structure. Cautiously at first, then with all her weight. And eventually she straight up pushed with her shoulder, grunting in the process.
Not a single drop of water fell into her bucket.
“Hey, princess. I came to bring you something to clean yourself up,” Leo said from behind her. Gaiane turned around, red faced and sweating, and saw her friend with a piece of soap in one hand and a towel on her other arm.
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped. “I can figure this out myself.”
“I’m sure you can. If you don’t mind, though, I’m thirsty. May I?” Leo gave her one of those half smiles that made her cheek rounder and her eyes shine brighter, and pointed at the handle Gaiane was still clinging to.
“You say that because you think I’m useless…”
“Or you could believe me and let me have a drink. Don’t be stubborn, Gaiane.”
“Look who’s talking!”
“Are you going to hug the handle much longer? You look silly.”
“I don’t…”
I do, Gaiane said to herself, dropping her arms and taking a mortified step back. Leo briskly tucked soap and towel in her hands and grabbed the handle, lifting it with one sure movement, then slowly lowering it again. A gush of water splashed into the bucket, and Gaiane blinked.
“Oh! So you need to pull first, then push…”
“Something like that,” Leo said, winking at her from behind the fall of her floppy, curly mohawk. She cupped her hands and drank some water, letting it trickle down her chin and on the front of her shirt, then left the pump open until the bucket was full. “There you go. Knock if you need me.” She wiped her face clean and disappeared back into her room.
Gaiane’s face was still warm with embarrassment long minutes later, as she tried to untangle her hair with her fingers. The soap smelled disgusting, almost rancid, with nothing of the flowers she was used to. It made no foam or bubbles, too, but somehow it was efficient enough to remove days of grime from her skin. Midway through the process she had to go out and fill the bucket again, to change the muddy water. This time she managed to use the pump, even if she had to grunt and pull with her full force. And Leo made it look so easy!
Still, after a thorough scrubbing process, Gaiane could feel the horror of the past days leave her skin. Her foot didn’t hurt anymore, the bug bites were healing, and the scratches were but reddish lines on her legs. The dress, none the cleaner, didn’t even feel that rough anymore.
She was alone, but not really. Aware that Leo was just a door away, she sat with her back to the wall, turning the now empty bucket in her hands.
She’d never thought she could come this far. Under a ghost town, prisoner (or something like that) of a queen without a crown, her powers still missing.
But I’m not alone, she repeated to herself. She closed her eyes, and let weariness roll from her.
She could’ve slept, and almost did it, but the underground city was oddly loud for her tastes. People walked back and forth by her room.
They talked, but Gaiane couldn’t make out their words. Her eyes started to feel heavy when a high-pitched, hushed chattering came from her doorstep. Gaiane frowned, rubbed her eyes, and got up. When she opened the door, a cluster of kids jumped back—and she did the same, with a gasp.
There were five of them, ranging from a gangly boy with ginger curls to a girl not much taller than Gaiane’s hips, all plump cheeks and inquiring black eyes.
“Yes?” Gaiane asked politely from her room. The little girl placed herself in front of the group, pointing a chubby finger.
“You’re the princess.” she said, her chin up and her jaw set.
Gaiane blinked and stared at the rest of the gang. The boy, probably the oldest of the lot, studied her with narrow eyes and his lips pressed together; the youngest members were either distrusting or, like that other freckled kid with a large gap between his front teeth, openly curious.
“I am. How did you know I was here?”
“Sam’s mom told my mom that they’d brought you here,” the short girl said, pointing at her ginger friend. “Is it true that you’re a mage even if you’re all grown up?”
Gaiane frowned and her hand went to the mark on her brow. All the kids had similar ones, but she suddenly remembered how little signs of magic she’d seen on the adults living in Nikaia.
“I… I am. And you, too, will grow up with your powers.”
“Father says he had magic, once. Then the Asares came, and he left, and when he got back he couldn’t even light a candle.” A blond child glared at her from behind Sam. “It’s your fault, then.”
“Shut up, Marika. If the queen let her stay, she’s not evil. Because… you’re not evil, are you?” Those black eyes scanned her deeply, uncertain. Gaiane shivered.
“I don’t think I am. I’ve done things I regret, though, and… and I don’t expect to be welcome here.”
“You’re not,” Sam said, squaring his skinny shoulders. “Dad says it’s your fault we’re living here, and he doesn’t understand why you’re allowed to walk free. Why are you here? What do you want from us?”
With a sigh, Gaiane took a step forward. The kids backed away, except for the little girl.
“I only want to help. What happened to your country it’s a tragedy I never wanted to take part in, and I’m here to do my part and make things right. But I get it, I’m not a welcome guest. I didn’t expect it to be any different. Just… just know that I’m not an enemy.”
“See? She’s t-too pretty to be evil,” the freckled kid stuttered before turning beet red and growing deeply interested in his own feet.
“I don’t know. We’ll keep an eye on you, and…”
* * *
“You’ve talked enough, Sam. Stop behaving like you’re the boss! Anyway, we know where to find you. Do you have stories to share? It can get pretty boring here, and Ampelio always makes himself the hero of the ones he tells.”
At this, Gaiane couldn’t but smile.
“It sounds just like him… but yes, I have some stories to tell. Not mine, but I read a lot, and I’ll be here if you…”
“Isa! What are you doing?”
The little girl jumped on her feet and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh no! Mom!” she hissed. The whole group flocked away, with one last perplexed look from Sam. A moment later, two women appeared. One was clearly Isa’s mom, with the same round cheeks and dark eyes; the other had freckles and a crooked nose.
Gaiane’s smile dropped from her face when the two ladies turned to stare at her. In their eyes there was none of the kids’ curiosity. Only cold distrust, and she could very well see why. Those people had lived the aftermath of the Slaughter, had seen their beloved country turn into a barren land.
They weren’t re
ady to forgive—only, perhaps, to trust their queen.
The two strangers acknowledged her with a flick of their heads, and this was already more than Gaiane would’ve expected. When they left and she locked the door again, though, something sparkled in her mind. Not hope, not yet, but she felt as if she’d planted a seed. At least the children didn’t see her as a monster, and it was already more than she deserved.
She wrapped herself in her blankets and stared at the darkness.
Eventually, she dozed off, and when Leo came to knock on her door, she woke up with a start.
* * *
She’d met the woman escorting them already. Larsa was ageless, maybe forty, maybe sixty, it was impossible to tell. She was kind enough with Leo, Gaiane thought: she walked in her trail, listening to them chatting and trying to find a topic she could participate in. Whenever she tried to say something, Larsa looked at her with distrust and mild annoyance, then returned to Leo.
“So, little one. How did you end up here?” Larsa asked, her thumbs stuck in the hoops of her belt. She was short, but looked stronger than most men in Nikaia. She poked Leo with her elbow and grinned. “Her, the princess, I know. You, I don’t.”
“I have nowhere else to go. And Gaiane is my friend, I can’t abandon her.” she said, half turning her head to look at her. Gaiane smiled.
“Choose friends carefully. They are a rare commodity.” She led them through a different part of the underground city, where no torches burned at the walls. The tunnels weren’t dark, though, and Leo expressed Gaiane’s same question.
“How do you get light this deep under the surface? I see no lamps or torches--magic?”
“Magic? Ah!” Larsa barked with raucous laughter. “No magic here. Very little. Too precious to use for something as silly as light in tunnels. No. Mirrors.” She patted the wall, and Gaiane looked up. A slit in the bricks offered a bright golden glow, and Leo gasped in surprise.
“You built a system of mirrors inside the walls to capture sunlight and bring it here? It’s… it’s brilliant!”
Larsa’s smile grew wider.
“I do this. Good with my hands, good for Nikaia. City is bleak, but I help.”
Gaiane frowned at the light as they passed under it. Capturing sunlight sounded pretty much like magic to her, but she couldn’t feel the familiar tingle under her skin. She was helpless, again.
Larsa continued talking, revealing she was the city’s blacksmith. Leo’s attention peaked.
“Came all the way from northern Hirsland to follow pretty merchant with black curls. Lived in Epidalio, started working steel. Discovered metal was soft, pretty merchant softer. Stayed to make steel harder, left pretty merchant,” she said with a shrug.
“It must be hard to work in these conditions.” Leo said.
“Not difficult: fun. Turned most rifles and guns into shovels and pickaxes. Not many swords, but people need tools to work. I help.” she repeated.
“I--er--I did the same kind of things back in my village. Some toys. Mostly shovels, though… and tell me, how do you manage the smoke? A system of smokestacks?”
Larsa started explaining in that thick accent of hers, and Gaiane drifted off.
Without the distraction of their conversation she paid more attention to the world around her. People, ragged shops. Voices.
The Nikaian folks weren’t particularly subtle. They stared at her from dark corners, from open doors that slammed shut the moment she looked back at them. They whispered, loud enough for her to hear them.
“... her fault.”
“Asares scum.”
“Why isn’t she in chains? Why is she walking free?”
“What is the queen thinking? That girl shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be breathing.”
Gaiane hurried to stay in Leo’s trail. Her stomach clenched, and her head suddenly emptied, her heart dropping somewhere around her belly button.
They hated her. They looked at her as if she was a beast, the root of all evil. Leo had done the same, but she was one, and soon had changed her mind. Evandro, on the other hand, barely looked at her. Nikaia, the whole of it, whispered poison and ill intentions about her.
Gaiane brushed the ring on her forehead, useless. She couldn’t even fight back.
When they stopped by yet another door, she was freezing, her teeth chattering, and not from the cold.
Larsa noticed her discomfort, and her face softened a little. She sighed and patted Gaiane’s shoulder.
“There, there, little one! Queen Ligeia is good, nothing to fear.”
“I’m not scared.” Gaiane snarled, and Larsa frowned.
“Not scared? Then you are just weird. Go in now, and you, child, come see me later at the forge. Could always use some more strong hands.” she added pointing at Leo.
She pushed them in, and Gaiane blinked.
She’d seen Ligeia already, but this was not how a queen greeted her subjects, let alone her prisoners. The woman was younger than her own mother, dressed in men’s clothes and sitting cross-legged on the floor of a messy room. A little girl of eight was in her lap, chatting and playing with Ligeia’s long braids.
“... and then he said I was not supposed to be there, but I thought that I needed to see the sun, you always say so, and it was not my fault if they were coming in just then, was it, mother? And then I ran back here, and Mirone said…”
“Rea, love, Mirone was right. And you were right, too.” Ligeia chuckled, booping her daughter’s nose. Rea tilted her head like a little bird.
“How can it be?”
* * *
“Sometimes things aren’t entirely black or white. Mirone was right when he said you needed to be careful, but you were right in wanting to walk in the sun.”
The child pouted.
“How much longer do we have to stay trapped here? I want to see what’s beyond the river, and to stay outside as long as I please without granny or Mirone coming after me… it’s not fair!”
“No.” Ligeia said, looking up to Gaiane with a mysterious look in her dark eyes. “It’s not. You’re too young to live a captive life.”
“What’s a captive?”
Ligeia gently squished her cheeks and kissed her forehead.
“Why don’t you go ask Mirone? And while you’re at it, apologize if you think you were rude to him.”
Rea got up and trotted away.
“I wasn’t rude.” Gaiane heard her mutter. The little girl waved her hand to her and Leo, and then left without a second look.
At least someone here doesn’t consider me a murderer. Not yet.
She brushed her hair behind her ears and, as Larsa closed the door, picked up the hem of her skirt and bowed in a curtsey, so elegant not even Alcmena would’ve had anything to say in the matter. Leo, at her side, just rubbed her boot on the floor and bowed stiffly.
Ligeia didn’t stand up or tell them to sit. She looked at the door and smiled.
“Rea deserves better. No child, no matter how noble their blood, should be forced to live in a cage.” She looked at Gaiane, her eyes serious. “Is it true? You’re the Asares princess everyone’s looking for.”
“I am, your majesty. But I’m just Gaiane, now.”
“You renounced your title already?”
“No. But I don’t want to be…” Gaiane licked her lips. “I’ve been used as a weapon. I only want to be seen as a person, for a change.”
“You may have no choice in the matter. You caused the death of many people.”
It was a blow. A cruel blow in her face. Gaiane was determined not to seem intimidated.
All those deaths were heavy already on her soul.
“Yes, and not by choice. I was but a little older than your daughter at the time, queen Ligeia, and I was misled.”
Ligeia nodded, cold and stern. Eventually, she stood up and walked towards them. This time, she focused on Leo.
“And you’re her friend.”
“Leo.”
“Even if she’s t
he reason behind the loss of your home? Don’t be so surprised, I have eyes and ears everywhere in Nikaia; keeping secrets from me is not easy, and you two are too young to be subtle.”
Leo squinted in suspicion, and Gaiane shivered with restlessness. Ligeia didn’t look like a queen, maybe, but she acted like one. Worse even, she had the same aura of authority and sharp intelligence of her father Diocle.
“Even so, I am,” Leo said. “You don’t know what she’s been through, she’s not a monster!”
“I never said she was.” Ligeia said, and some of her collected mask faded.
“But you thought it!”
Gaiane wanted to both hug Leo and beg her to tone it down. Ligeia’s face was unfathomable again.
“Do you think I’d let someone who could endanger my people walk free?” she asked, and Gaiane’s blood chilled.
“But I don’t want to hurt anyone! Even if I could, I…”
Ligeia interrupted Gaiane with a gesture. She was tall and slender, and the fingers she brushed on Gaiane’s forehead were thin, hardened by years of work.
“You have power. An infinite amount of it, they say.” She brushed her thumb on the sign on her brow.
* * *
“It’s true. Don’t ask me why, but I haven’t been able to evoke a single drop of water for the past week.” she said with shame.
* * *
“How so? Your mark is still intact…”
“I… I don’t really know. I still could when I left the palace, but after a few days… “
“I’ve never heard anything like this before, but what if your power is bound to the tower you lived into? It could explain why you were able to perform such horrible spells, even escape, only to find yourself at loss later…”
Gaiane looked at Ligeia and focused on her words. They made sense, but not really—she remembered the power flowing through her when she’d chased the wolves away, and how she’d felt herself as usual after the cast. A bit tired, of course, but not less powerful.
The Other Side of Magic Page 23