The Light of the Midnight Stars

by Rena Rossner

They tried everything they could, but still the empress did not get pregnant. They asked a wise man, but he said their wish would only bring them sorrow. They asked a philosopher, but he said the answer they were looking for was written in the stars—so they asked a witch to read the stars and find out if they would have children.

  The witch said they would only have one child and he would be handsome, but they wouldn’t be able to keep him for long.

  Well, they thought that was better than having nothing, so they asked the witch for an herb that would make their wish come true.

  The emperor and the empress brewed themselves tea from the herbs and soon enough the empress was pregnant. They’d never known such happiness.

  But on the night the empress went into labor, she saw a star fall out of the heavens. Just before it disappeared from the sky, the star split in two, and at that moment she was struck with a pain so strong she screamed out in a shout heard throughout the kingdom.

  She gave birth to two healthy children—a boy and a girl. The emperor and empress were overjoyed. They had been prepared for a son, but this was beyond their wildest dreams.

  “You will be the sun and moon in my sky,” the empress said, beaming with pride.

  The emperor said to one of the babies, “I will give you my kingdom and a princess for your wife.”

  And to the other he said, “I will give you youth without age and life without death.”

  But the babies looked exactly alike to him, and he didn’t know that he’d mixed the blessings up.

  When the children were grown, they came to their father and asked that he honor his promises.

  The princess asked for her kingdom and a princess for a wife, and the prince asked for youth without age and life without death.

  The king laughed. “Certainly you say this in jest,” he said. “Clearly you’ve made a mistake.”

  The brother and sister looked at each other and shook their heads.

  “We’ve made no mistake, and now you must honor your promises, or we will be forced to leave the palace and wander the world until we find what was promised to us.”

  The emperor didn’t know what to do, but the empress laughed at him.

  “Certainly our daughter was mistaken—she does not want a wife; she wants a husband. And he will inherit her kingdom. All we must do is find her someone suitable—we will unite our empire with theirs.”

  The emperor thought his wife made a lot of sense, so that is what he set out to do.

  But when it was time to introduce his daughter to her intended, she burst into tears and ran out of the palace. The emperor merely thought she was overcome with emotion, but in truth, the princess ran and ran, and she didn’t stop.

  In fear that they might never see their daughter again, they asked their son if he would go out after her. He said he would, but only if the emperor gave him what he promised him—youth without age and life without death.

  The emperor laughed and said, “Of course, but first you must find your sister.”

  And so the prince set out. He traveled the world, but he never found his sister, until finally he made it back home, and as he arrived, he fell off his horse and crumbled into dust.

  The emperor and empress were beside themselves with grief. They cried upon his ashes and tore at their clothes.

  “If only I had given him youth without age and life without death,” the emperor wailed. The dirt mingled with his tears and began to form itself into a mass of dust and air. It glowed and swirled until it formed itself into a fiery mass of silver fire, and then it took flight and launched itself into the heavens.

  It is said that when that star reached the sky, it split and formed the constellation of the twins, and thus achieved what it had been promised—youth without age and life without death.

  But the princess still searches for her beloved, she still seeks a kingdom, and on certain nights you can see her crossing the sky, looking for the lost princess that was promised to her.

  Nikolas looks over at me and sees the tears that brim in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says.

  “It’s a beautiful story,” I say. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.”

  “What do you want to do next?” he asks me, as though I have all the choices in the world.

  As though any of us do.

  “We never know which story is meant to be ours,” I say.

  “No, we don’t,” he replies. “But you see, I think they got the story wrong.”

  “Wrong?” I turn to face him.

  “I think it’s a story about a princess who rides to the ends of the earth because she wants to be free from what other people think she is.”

  “I like that,” I say. “I think that stories change every time we tell them because we are always changing, like the stars.”

  I like speaking to Nikolas, I realize. He grounds me.

  “What makes you so sad tonight?” he says.

  “I think I’m pregnant,” I say.

  “Oh,” he says. “I… uh… I didn’t know.”

  “Nobody knows,” I say.

  “A man fell from the sky.

  He came to me in my dreams,

  and then my dreams became real.

  But now he’s disappeared.

  I’ve gone out to the woods every night.

  That’s why I ran from you.

  I thought I saw him.

  I needed to tell him.

  He gave me a ring.

  I promised myself to him.

  But he’s gone now,

  I’m sorry I’m telling you this,

  but I’m falling apart.”

  “Laptitza…” he says,

  placing a hand on my arm.

  I turn to him.

  “Please don’t tell.

  Please don’t tell anyone,” I beg.

  “I would never tell. I swear it.”

  He takes my hand in his and holds it firmly.

  “I have a secret too,” he says. “And I would never want anyone to share it without my consent.” He stares up at the sky. “Maybe… we can help each other?”

  I put a hand on my stomach. “How?”

  “Marry me.”

  “What?” I stand up. “No. I am promised to another.”

  I turn from him and start to move away.

  “I have a ring,” I say. “I am faithful.”

  “Wait, please!” He reaches out. “Just… please, listen. Let me say this. And if you still wish to walk away, then so be it.”

  I stop and wait.

  “I…” He takes a deep breath. “I cannot succeed my father if I do not have a wife. If you agree to marry me, I will claim your child as my own. I will provide for you. Nobody will ever have to know that the child isn’t mine. I can help you. It can be a kind of partnership. You can keep seeing him, this star-man of yours, but this way… I can have a child. You will be safe, and my mother and father will be happy.”

  “What if my star comes back?” I say.

  “What if he doesn’t?” he says.

  “I can’t betray him.”

  “The way I see it, he’s betrayed you. But I’ll build you a balcony off your bedroom and place the astrolabe there. You can go out every night and wait for him. You may share a bed with him if he comes. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find what I’m looking for if I start searching for a star. We can keep each other’s secrets. And if he doesn’t come back, at least you and your unborn child will be safe from harm.”

  I stare at the stars for a very long time.

  They don’t stare back.

  I reach my hand out.

  This time, a hand reaches back.

  It is warm, not cold.

  It grips my hand firmly.

  “Okay,” I say. “I will marry you.”

  I lace my fingers with his.

  We stay that way for a long time, both looking for lost and wandering stars.

  Wisdom is the bursting forth, the shining of light in the worl
d. It is the only force in the world that can defeat the darkness of ignorance.

  —The Book of the Solomonars, page 93, verse 1

  Darkness once again swept in like a fog. Evil, once unleashed, needs very little encouragement to spread. Like a spark that falls in a dry forest, it is destined to burn hard, and fast, and destroy those that get caught in its furnace.

  Stanna

  The next month, I barely see Theodora at all. Preparations are being made for her wedding, which will take place in Bulgaria. I find myself wandering the forest alone at night looking for owls. I don’t look for foxes anymore. Half a year has passed since we fled Trnava. Since I saw Guvriel last. I’m lost. Set adrift. An island alone in the middle of a sea so vast, no one will ever cross it—not Guvriel, not Theodora.

  My life had once been simple. I knew who I was, where I came from, and what would likely be my future. I don’t understand why I once bucked and battled against that with all of my might. And now, stripped of all that once defined us, everything’s more complicated. Meeting Theodora changed me, and I don’t regret that for an instant. But now I have nothing. Not the old world, or the new.

  That’s what you get when a snake loves a fox, I hear a voice say in my mind. No good can ever come of that… A snake needs to marry another snake. Fire seeks fire, like calls to like. Sssslide along the foressst floor and ssslide up the barksss of treesss—that issss where you will find yoursssself… But I’m tired and it’s late, and I’ve been wandering the forest for hours. I no longer know if these are my thoughts, or someone else’s. They feel dark and syrupy in my ears. Seductive.

  I miss Guvriel like a physical ache in my chest, and now I miss Theodora too. A pang of jealously stabs me in the gut so hard, I bend over. Anna found herself a happy ending. I hate my sister. I hate her so much in this minute. She always gets first pick. Always. Why not me?

  The spark inside me is alive again, and growing, but this one has no control; this is the type of fire that I know can end forests in an instant.

  I take deep breaths and watch them come out hot like smoke. I wander deeper and deeper into the woods. The damp musk of it calms what’s brewing within me. Perhaps if I wander deep enough into the forest, I will emerge changed again. Into some other creature. Someone who doesn’t burn like I do. Something that doesn’t feel pain.

  I see a dart of red in the trees.

  No. It can’t be. Not after all this time. Not after what I’ve been through. Would he even recognize the person I’ve become? I’m not sweet and innocent anymore like I once was.

  “Guvriel?” I call out. “Is that you?”

  I see a bushy tail and follow it. Anything is possible, I think—a woman dressed as a man, a person who becomes an owl—or a snake, a Jew who enters a church and marries a non-Jew. Maybe this is Guvriel finally coming to claim me. Or maybe this fox lives in a den and will lead me to him. If not to him, then maybe to another life.

  Everything you need is already in your grasp, I hear Guvriel say.

  “But it isn’t!” I scream to the sky. “I don’t even know where to begin!”

  There is only the echo of my own voice on the wind. Nobody answers.

  I follow the fox. I’m chasing it now. I can’t tell if the fox is leading me somewhere or if it’s running away from me. After a while, I cannot run anymore. I lose track of the streak of red in the trees. I’m breathing hard and crying. Clearly it’s just a fox, I tell myself, and I’m a silly girl, not worthy of love, who believes in stories that never come true.

  I sit down on a log—cold, despondent and alone. I hear voices. They are sweet and dark and they threaten to drown out all other sounds. Maybe it would be better for everyone if I stayed a snake in the woods and never came back. I could sit here and melt into the floor or craft a nest for myself and become a creature of the forest—snake with no love, no desire.

  There is a black mist curling around my ankles. I laugh out loud. If the Black Mist has followed us here, then truly everything is lost. Maybe I’m the one it wants, the one it wanted all alone. It looks soft… inviting… Maybe I could lie down and it could cover me like a blanket…

  The fox appears again, a streak of red in the moonlight. I sit still, hoping that if I don’t startle it, it will come to me. If only I had something to feed it. A way to lure it to me. But I already know that I don’t. I’m not enough. Not even for a fox.

  The fox dances closer to me, darting in and out of the trees, until it starts to circle the place where I sit. The Black Mist rises higher. I wait for the fox. I reach out my hand—the fox bites me.

  I cry out in pain and clutch my bleeding hand to my chest. I get up and try to run away, but I’m tired and it’s late and I trip and fall. I try to get up again, but I twist my ankle. I’m now scared of the fox, that it will come back, that it will bite me again. I try to get up, try to drag myself somewhere safe, but my arm hurts and my legs ache. I collapse to the forest floor into a blanket of mist. Alone and utterly bereft.

  I curl into a ball and allow the dark to take my pain away.

  I hear someone knocking at a door, but I am too tired to get up and answer it. My limbs weigh a hundred pounds.

  I try to open my eyes, but everything is dark. I’m moving. My head bumps against what feels like a hard wooden log beside me. It hurts. My hand hurts. My ankle hurts. I’m being jostled side to side. The ground is moving. Then I’m lifted and carried. I’m dizzy, so dizzy.

  I hear a voice. “Who is it?” The sound is muffled, like from behind a door.

  “Constantin, it’s Theodora, let me in.”

  The door opens, light floods my vision even through my closed lids. Footsteps. Then softness. Something I sink into… A bed. I try to open my eyes—everything is hazy. I see someone with long red hair and a kind face. Theodora? No. She cut her hair. Guvriel? My heart beats fast… I want to ask the person why they’re crying but I can’t hold up my head. My eyes close again.

  “I found her in the woods,” I hear someone say. “Her hand is bleeding.”

  “I’m a healer,” another familiar voice says. “At least… I used to be. Constantin, boil some hot water.”

  “My horse is outside; I’ll tie it up and be right back.”

  “What do you need? Bandages? A poultice?” a voice asks.

  “No, just some hot water, and… if you’ll allow me to work alone.”

  My eyes open. Hannah. It’s Hannah! But then I realize that if she’s here… it isn’t Guvriel at all. My eyes fill with tears. Hannah’s hands shake as she touches me.

  Someone is beside me, stroking my hair. I turn my head. Not Guvriel… Theodora.

  She gets down on her knees beside me. “I heard you, my lăcrimioare,” she whispers to me. “My true father walks on clouds of smoke that can take on any form. He is dead but his spirit lives. He told me the forest echoed with your sorrow. I’m so sorry, draga mea. I thought it would be best if I left you alone. If I left you to heal, to forget. I only wanted to be your friend… but even that I couldn’t do. I know I said I can’t promise you anything, but I will promise you now—I will never betray you or leave you again.”

  I try to reach my hand up to touch her cheek but I’m too weak.

  “You need to get better first. I found you curled up in a coil, like a beautiful snake… and you’d been bitten by some creature. You must live or I will never forgive myself. We still have so many things to do together—” Theodora brings my hand to her lips and places a kiss in my palm. I turn my head away. I don’t want her to see my tears.

  “Please, I must do this alone,” Hannah says.

  Theodora gets up. “I’ll be waiting. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

  There is pressure on my chest. A hand on my arm.

  “El na refah na lah, El na refah na lah,” like a chant. “Please, Lord, please heal her.”

  A soothing feeling runs through me, spreading from my hand up to my shoulder.

  At first, the cold made me sleepy, but now I�
��m lulled by this calm warmth. I feel a hand on my head, the way my mother would stroke my hair when I was little. It’s been so long since anyone has taken care of me. I try to snuggle my head closer, to take the comfort she offers. If I should die, I think, this is a good way to go.

  I hear her singing—“Én Istenem, Jó Istenem—my God, my good God…”—and I let the words and melody wash over me. “Should the sun rise again, we can kiss again in the morning.” My shoulders shake and the tears come. As though my insides have begun to thaw. She keeps singing the song, humming the melody as if it could turn back time and take me to a place before all we lost.

  The calm gets warmer and warmer, and soon it’s not a soothing lull anymore. The pain is back. It’s in my lungs. I gasp and open my eyes.

  I’m not in my mother’s lap; I’m in a bed in my newly married sister’s house. It is Anna’s voice I hear. And Theodora is standing over me.

  Maybe this is a place between life and death, I think. My heart beats impossibly fast. It thunders in my ears. I hear Theodora’s voice, feel her hand on my head. “Sleep,” she says. “Sleep and I will tell you a story.”

  Radu Negru was my father. In his time, he was known as the Black Dragon. People say he was descended from a caste of Dacian priests—smoke-walkers, people called them, with powers pulled from the soil of this land—from the very forest where we first met—the Satu Mare. There is a pulse, a current that runs through a people—it comes from the land in which they are born. Not everyone can see it or feel it, but Radu Negru could, and that was how he formed Wallachia and her people. He forged them from the mist that rises from the earth upon which they were born. He did what he had to do to protect the people he loved and the faith he followed, and he created a refuge for them—a land where they could be free.

  He and his people were followers of the new faith, but he himself never let go of the traditions of the old gods.

  Soon his wife was pregnant, and she begged him to construct the most beautiful monastery in the country for her, in honor of the birth of her child.