The Midnight Before Me

by Elizabeth Lo

  “So I wanted to find a different way. A different way to be immortal, and that’s where your precious First King, Tiqi, came in. Of course, it wasn’t until I stumbled upon your father and mother that I found people willing to participate in such an experiment. And of course, it turned into a complete failure. I wanted to wrap up loose ends later, and I attempted to bring my findings to the Magic Council years ago… and of course, that failed too. I don’t regret my actions—I find such a thing to be tiresome in this long life. But I suppose… I can’t beat you, huh? I apologize, Miss Midnight Marigold Thunder. In the coming day, may God be with you.”

  Somehow… my heart feels as full as it is empty. It’s an odd sensation.

  “Thank you,” I say again.

  He sighs and walks away, shaking his head with a smile.

  “Ah, finally got that weight off my chest,” I hear him mutter.

  See, Midnight? That’s how you get people to smile.

  See?

  Selfish. That’s right, I’m just being selfish wanting to escape this “purpose” of mine. I need to stop focusing on myself.

  And besides. I was prepared to die just the day before yesterday anyway.

  Or was I?

  This time, it’s different. It’s different, I tell myself. This time, I won’t be dying for the sake of escaping myself. At least it’ll be so I can push people like Glorieux and Lafayette and Annabelle and Artemis all in the right direction.

  So then why am I hesitating? Why am I so… reluctant?

  Maybe the death won’t hurt as much. And if it does, it’ll be done and over with. I might not even exist to remember it. He said it will eat my soul, right?

  Just a moment of pain for a chance of freeing so many people.

  And yet… I don’t want to die. No matter how much I hope for it… I dread it just as much. I mean, me, who’s cheated death more than any human on this planet, wishes to not die? Do I even have that right?

  Isn’t that just being selfish? To wish more for myself like that?

  Even if I live, what will I do afterwards? Return to my room to live in isolation again? Look on the bright side. The cost is so inexplicably cheap—just my life to break everyone else out of years of insanity and freedom from a future of impending destruction.

  It’s a fitting end for a person like me.

  It’s okay. I’ll be saving people. I’ll be dying for the sake of others.

  Shouldn’t I be happy about that? Yeah… that’s what I wanted. I wanted to die. No, I want to die.

  There’s a knot in my throat. There are tears threatening to burst from my eyes.

  No. You can’t cry. Not now.

  Just… just breathe. Just breathe.

  Right…

  I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine…

  Stop crying.

  The lamp on my nightstand flickers out completely. Darkness swallows the room, and finally, the feeling swells down and down to a dormant quietness again. The sudden action gives me an opening to collect my breath, stop the tears, and shut down my reeling mind.

  It takes me a moment to notice Annabelle staring at me from my doorway. I forgot to close it.

  “I was… thinking. The lamp,” I attempt to summarize, still half-lost in thought.

  “I see…” Annabelle looks as if she wants to ask more, but she just silently walks in and lays down on my bed. “You know,” she says softly into the dark. “Because I used to be an assassin, trained from the start in the art of killing, I lived most of my life thinking that it was normal for people to be killed. My world was just kill or be killed, and I was the one killing.”

  She shuts her eyes.

  “One day,” she continues. “I couldn’t kill this one geezer in the timeframe the client wanted. It was my first failure… And I guess my mentor began having second thoughts about training me as an assassin, so… he sent me here to be a bodyguard for Artemis instead.

  “All my life, I’ve lived with no one else except for asses—er, assassins… It’s only when I finally had someone that I cared about that I finally realized the importance each and every single person has for the people around them. The weight of a person’s life comes from their significance to people they’re connected to… It’s like a net.

  “That’s what Artemis taught me, in his dull, stupid… and brave way of trying to power through his cursed life. He saw himself as just a bird with a broken wing, yet he didn’t think of himself as any less worthy of flight. So Midnight… tell me… is it because you are worth a lot to yourself that you are doing this or is it because you think you are worth nothing?”

  I let the silence hang as I think.

  “Did you know?” I say back instead. “My favorite time of the day is right now. When the sky’s foggy and gray, but it’s so serenely quiet… I’ve always wanted to paint the night on the roof of my house. So that if I sat up there at the right time, I could suspend myself in time and space…”

  Even in the dark, I can see her smile.

  “So, you’re sure. You’re going through with this?”

  I take a deep breath.

  “No. Not right now. The moment the sun breaks the horizon, yes. I will be. But for now, I just want to enjoy the night.”

  She nods and gazes out the window with me.

  “The fact that you’re really going through with it… I envy… and pity you for finding the motivation to do this.”

  I shake my head.

  “You shouldn’t.”

  Annabelle stays quiet, getting off my bed and heading for the door.

  “Well,” she continues. “Whatever you’re breaking this curse for, I just want you to know that I really honor it. I wish we could break this curse differently… But thank you. If you haven’t heard it from anyone else, you at least heard it from me.”

  I only nod under the dark cover of the night. I can see now why Lafayette liked to hide his face in the back of the cave.

  “Good night, Mid,” she says.

  “’Night,” I say softly, listening to her footsteps disappearing into the night.

  If only that were the case. If only I were “honorable” in any way. I can only tell myself I want to break the curse, I want to save people… But inside, there’s a part of me screaming and pounding against this trap I’ve set for myself—my tail caught between my teeth. But how can I back out now? I’ve already agreed—twice over in fact. Once to the world, once to myself. I can’t back out now. A little thing like permanent death shouldn’t be enough to deter me.

  The morning will come. And then, I will break the curse and die. Forever, this time. Just like King Fantastique.

  I wish I could have lived even just a little more before all this came about.

  Is this an act of heroism? Or simply the product of a series of mistakes trying to correct themselves before it’s too late?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Midnight

  Sucre’s voice booms through everyone’s minds, startling all of us awake by interrupting our dreams from inside our own heads.

  Wake up, all of you. We’ve got places to be and not much time to get there.

  Not that I had any dreams to interrupt, though. I’ve been wide awake before the sun even kissed the edge of the horizon.

  Some maids have graciously left me a new outfit outside my door. But seeing combat boots, a long-sleeve shirt, and pants, and even a jacket with a lot of pockets only make the coming events of the day seem more daunting.

  I change in my room, wearing the boots and ditching everything else to don my usual outfit. Somehow, it’s like a tribute to my life. The same Midnight Thunder who was stuck in a loop will die today.

  This inevitability is crushing.

  “Morning,” I say to Annabelle, stepping out into the hall.

  “You ready?” she asks, slipping some knives into her sleeves.

  “Mostly.” I take a knife too, but then change my mind and put it back down on the table. “I hope we won’t have to use these…”

>   Annabelle purses her lips.

  “It’s backup.” She attaches a semi-automatic pistol to her waist, this time wearing a belt with a gun holster instead of a sash. “I have a feeling we won’t be completely unopposed on our way in.”

  “Which is all the more worrisome.”

  Pushing these thoughts aside, I eat breakfast in a daze and follow Annabelle outside to find Sucre crouched near the front doors of the mansion. His ears flatten when I clamber onto him, and Annabelle joins me, a little less cautious.

  Ready?

  His haunches coil, ready to sail into the air.

  “Wait!” A silver streak practically Teleports to Sucre’s side.

  “Artemis?” Annabelle asks. “What’s wrong?”

  He grabs a handful of fur and starts to step on.

  Hold it, boy. What do you think you’re doing?

  “I’m coming with,” he says, a strange determination in his mirror eyes.

  My heart skips again at the sight of them again.

  “Why?” I ask. “It’s okay. I wasn’t bothered by what you thought about Black. There’s no need—”

  “No, that’s not it.” He awkwardly clambers onto Sucre’s back. “Or… it kind of is… I just want to go. To help.”

  This isn’t some picnic, Artemis. If you’re going to drag down the group then I suggest you stay right here.

  Even though I’m pretty sure he’s still in his present age, there’s a childlike fire to him. Like Glorieux, but not developed into something that could be directly harmful yet.

  “Artemis…” Annabelle starts. “I’m sorry, but it’s not safe.”

  “You don’t need to shield me, Annabelle,” he says. “I’m sure I can be of help. I’m as proficient at magic as Midnight is. If not more.”

  “Artemis… Today… is something I don’t think you should witness. Today… won’t be some adventure.” There’s a flash of pity in her eyes as she meets my eyes. “Today is a sacrifice. No matter how anyone puts it, that’s what it all comes down to.”

  But when I shift my gaze off of Annabelle’s chocolate eyes, Artemis’s eyes hold a certain conviction in them that I haven’t seen in a while. Something people like Annabelle, Lafayette, Glorieux, and I have all lost.

  “Phelix said it might be beneficial for me to come.” He looks down at his hands.

  When he looks back up, our eyes meet. I haven’t spoken much to him, but in that instant, looking into those mirror eyes, I see a bit of myself. A bit of the Midnight in me that I had long buried.

  I want to move forward, was what she would have said—the old me. But inside I know that fragment of Midnight will never get her wish.

  “All right,” I hear myself say.

  His eyes illuminate with a smile.

  Annabelle goes silent. Sucre shifts his front feet.

  “You can come.” I face forward again so he can’t see my face. “Just don’t die, and I think you’ll be fine.” My voice is smiling, joking almost. But just my voice.

  Grumbling but not objecting, Sucre squares his hind legs and takes off, knocking the wind from my chest with the sheer acceleration.

  Here we go…

  We begin our journey, soaring over the greenery below us.

  Each little strand of wind pursues each of my fingers like hungry minnows, eager to nibble on my skin as it passes. I’m not really sure how long since time seems to simultaneously pass painfully slowly yet jerkily fast, but after a couple hours or so, the wind becomes cold as it swirls around me and the white castle pulls up in the distance.

  At one point, I can see the entire wing that Glorieux had burned down during Sucre’s and my escape. Soon, I can see the highest spire in the central wing and the still intact West wing.

  Sucre? I say, projecting it out.

  Mmhmm?

  What if… all your life… like, just from a what-if standpoint… Something has been controlling your life? Or has been shunning you from society and making you an outsider?

  Something controlling you, eh? I, as a powerful nuagepanthère, don’t know the feeling… he remarks in mock-snobbery. After all, I decide who I want to listen to. Even taking orders is a choice, you know.

  What about Glorieux, then? Was it her own decision to follow all those orders until now?

  Sucre’s ears sag a little.

  Ah, so that’s what you were getting at. I suppose it’s trained into all of us at one point—to listen to instructions, whether it be because we respect someone, because we have a goal to achieve by doing what they say, or simply because we don’t know what else to do. And for Glorieux, I think it was the last one. It’s scary, I’m sure. Realizing your entire life has boiled down to nothing in the grand scheme of the world. And there are many routes you can take to handle that. For Glorieux, I… don’t actually think she did everything she did out of hate for the world… But maybe hate for herself. I think she blames her meaninglessness on her lack of control..

  Lack of control…

  Yes. But you of all people should know what it feels like to be cornered. They say a cornered cat bares its fangs.

  So, you are admitting to being a cat, then? I think laughingly.

  No, he hisses. I’m using it as an example since there are no nuagepanthères for you to relate to.

  He thinks a little more, and his ear angles more towards me now.

  You know, he says. I used to know someone like you. He gave up something very important to save people dear to him. At that point, he was in the middle of a losing battle, and soon, he started wondering how he could win. And so, in order to win, he made a sacrifice.

  Sucre’s flight seems to have slowed for a moment.

  And what happened to that person?

  Sucre’s ears turn away from me and become kind of lopsided.

  His last words, Sucre says, his telecommunication lowering from its usual majesty, Were, “Was it even worth it?”

  My hands tighten on Sucre’s fur.

  That was… Fantastique, wasn’t it, I say. The First King.

  He deliberates a little longer.

  Yes, it was, he says. And I guess, the biggest regret in my long life was never showing him the worth behind his actions before it was too late. So… that’s why you weren’t allowed to go and get Fantastique’s Stone until you were absolutely sure that what you are doing is worth your every being. Otherwise, you may not even survive its preliminary test.

  We fly in silence for a bit as his words sink in. That’s the first time Sucre’s cared deeply enough about something that he took the time to explain it to me.

  You’re doing a good thing in the world by breaking this curse, he says.

  I take a shaky breath and stroke his furry back.

  Ugh, stop that, he grumbles. You’re making me feel like a house cat.

  All right, Mister Grumpy Cat, I tease back, petting him still. By the way… Do you know what happened to Soren Frost? Glorieux’s… lover?

  A slight pause.

  Yes, he says, reluctantly. He was a peculiar boy, I must say. Died at the gallows like your brother for multiple misdeeds and for… “soiling the Queen.” Though… he and Glorieux were already together before her engagement to the king. I suppose his jealousy had finally gotten the better of him when he used Glorieux to kill King Chevalier.

  Jealousy?

  Do you think all of this has just been Soren’s doing? I ask.

  His ear swivels around as he thinks.

  I don’t know, girl. It’s hard to tell at this point—who’s in charge of Glorieux’s body.

  Yeah… But do you think it’s possible that Glorieux is jealous too?

  Jealous? Of who?

  Everyone…? I’ve begun making a mini braid out of some of Sucre’s fur to keep my hands occupied. Well… actually, more specifically, my mother, Marigold. I was just thinking that maybe the real reason why she’s been doing everything is because she’s just… envious? Of anyone else that looks… free to her.

  Sucre’s ears fall ag
ainst his head in some emotion unknown to me.

  I see, he answers. It’s plausible, I suppose.

  He shakes his head and dips it slightly.

  You know, he says. I wish I could have given you more time to solidify your decision. His ears droop a little more. I would have broken the curse myself had it not accelerated so quickly to this point. However… since the country can’t wait for another any longer, you’re the only one who can do it.

  He fluffs his ears out.

  “Why are you so low on magic?” I ask. “Old age?”

  Maybe, he grumbles. That, and well… there were two parts of the curse that needed to be counteracted. And the first part had to be undone immediately due to its urgency. I’m sure you don’t remember since you humans tend to have a faulty, short memory, but three years ago, when the curse was first activated, there was an earthquake.

  Oh, I think. I remember that. Barely, though…

  Of course, he huffs. You humans can barely remember your own ages, nevertheless an instant three years ago. Regardless, I had to sacrifice quite a lot of magic to prevent the entirety of Galviton from turning into the Abyss, and I haven’t quite recovered yet.

  How’d you do it?

  What?

  Break the first part of the curse?

  I overpowered it with sheer magic power and rewrote it.

  You can do that?

  That’s about the only powerful thing I can do, Midnight. We nuagepanthères might be magical and large, and of course, majestic, but that doesn’t mean we have the same magic application abilities as humans. Why do you think our hides were so sought after?

  Magic energy… right?

  Exactly, he says.

  At this point, I’ve arranged a series of braids to make a little flower of pink fur. Usually, by now, Sucre would have told me to stop, but today, he seems strangely placid.

  But, I continue. I always wondered how they could extract energy from an already-dead body.

  He seems to chuckle.

  Oh, they don’t take it out of you when you’re dead, Midnight. There was this certain enchantment that could steal all the magic from a being and fuse it with the caster. It was so common back then, I’m sure Phelix probably still has a few spell books with different variations of the enchantment somewhere in that mansion of his.