Isadora

by Charlotte McConaghy

  I breathed out heavily. My head was spinning and my body felt too … real. It was heavy and clumsy, and I didn’t know if we had really kissed like that, as though we’d die if we ever stopped. I didn’t know if she had tingled in my hands like she was made to fit there, or if she’d clutched at me as though I was her only home. But I knew I could not ask her. If I’d only dreamt it, she would be horrified to know.

  ‘Sleep now,’ she said. ‘You won’t dream this time.’

  I stumbled to the baby’s room, sinking onto my cot. Ava had already risen so I was alone, gazing at a mobile made of hanging driftwood. As my eyes fell shut I felt ancient with weariness, and a deep, dreamless sleep took hold of me.

  Isadora

  I slept until midday, and with waking came the realisation that I could no longer leave the house, unless I wanted to be recognised. Nor could I return to the palace to work, in case I’d been identified as the killer of the dozen warders. In truth, I felt sick at the thought of returning there anyway.

  Being cooped up inside was a struggle. The others had gone to work – Finn went with them today, so that left Osric and Ava, whom I didn’t particularly want to speak to, and Falco, who was still sleeping. I helped Sara in the kitchen for a while but fidgeted so much that I nearly ruined a loaf of bread, and was banished. I tried spending time with the baby, but she was too uncomfortable around me for either of us to enjoy it. Next I turned to reading, but sitting still for extended periods of time was difficult: it always reminded me of the cage.

  So I settled on target practice in the courtyard.

  In the familiar throw and release I gratefully felt calm return. The blade edges were my focus, sharp and precise. I couldn’t allow fear to keep me from the palace, I couldn’t allow Falco’s arrival to distract me from what I was doing here. It might be time, I thought, to leave this house and these people to their plans and their Emperor, and find a base of my own somewhere.

  I spun a dagger in my fingertips and hurled it swiftly at the wooden bench on the other side of the courtyard. I wasn’t concentrating, though, and saw the figure too late. He’d moved to sit on the bench when my back was turned, and I couldn’t catch the blade before it was flung free of my fingertips. I blinked and it was already landing –

  In Falco’s hands. He had caught it between his palms, seconds before it embedded itself in his chest. The air left my lungs completely.

  ‘I surrender,’ he said, turning the knife lazily in his grip.

  ‘How did you do that?’

  He blinked, realising what he’d done and dropping the blade as though it were a poisonous spider. ‘Lucky catch, I guess.’

  My eyes narrowed. He sat in full sun, its glare making it difficult for me to properly see his face.

  Did he think me an idiot?

  ‘No, I don’t think you an idiot. But don’t you ever stop?’ he murmured, still half asleep.

  I threw three more daggers and they thunked into the wood around his body, close enough to shave off a fine layer of hairs. He didn’t flinch or try to catch them this time, calling my bluff.

  ‘Aim’s getting lazy,’ he pointed out, wrenching the knives free. ‘Or were you playing with me, little Sparrow? I’d be shocked and appalled to discover there was anything like mischief under that scowl.’

  I stalked over and held out my hand.

  ‘Why thank you,’ he murmured, reaching for it with his own. I wrenched my palm away just before his skin touched mine and he grinned, amused. If he thought I was going to play this game with him, he was mistaken. I snatched the knives and turned away to restore them to their sheaths.

  ‘Are you any good with other weapons? I know you’re pretty mean with a spear, but how about a sword?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘How did you learn to do it?’ he asked more firmly, the real question he’d come outside to pose. ‘The sleepwalking or whatever it was.’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘Is it magic?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then can you teach me to do it on my own?’

  Maybe, but I certainly didn’t plan to.

  ‘You don’t say much, do you?’

  I didn’t bother looking at him as I strode back inside. The sun was setting and I needed to prepare.

  Under cover of night I searched the city for a good place to hole up and spent hours picking the right one. In the end I only discovered the small house because a desire to see the ocean took me right to the cliff’s edge. The house was perched on a steep incline in an area that had been completely abandoned in the first wave of attacks. This cliff was dangerously close to the warder temple, but they wouldn’t notice the sound of my mind. Plus they didn’t patrol this area because, despite it being unwalled, there was no way to reach the ocean below without being dashed on the rocks.

  The house had an open front with a balcony protruding over the cliff. It was simple, with one bedroom, an open kitchen and a skylight in the roof of the living room. I walked around it, looking at the abandoned possessions of the young couple who had lived here. A portrait had been slashed through, and there was a thick layer of dust over every surface. I wondered if they’d fled this place to find safer ground, or if they were dead. Carefully, I turned the painting to face away, then gathered the personal items and trinkets into a chest of drawers where I wouldn’t have to see them. They were too sad to gaze upon every day.

  I snuck home to spend the rest of my last night with Penn. I gently woke him from the fray of sleeping bodies and the two of us went outside to join Finn on watch duty. I didn’t wake Jonah, though I did feel a twinge of guilt as I passed his sleeping form. I couldn’t endure his eyes on me, begging me for words and answers.

  We found Finn on the roof. ‘Where have you been?’ she asked me as Penn and I took spots on either side of her.

  ‘Patrolling.’

  ‘The warders are patrolling. We’re supposed to be hiding.’

  I cracked my knuckles, thinking about that. Sometimes it scared me how vulnerable Finn of Limontae allowed herself to be. She didn’t seem to understand that she needed to protect herself, that the world was a disturbingly violent place and she couldn’t just will it to be as gentle as she wished. This concern was probably the only reason I spoke, shooting her a glance in the dark. ‘Survival means becoming the hunter, not the prey.’

  ‘Funny. Osric – the warder you’re apparently mortally opposed to – said almost the exact same thing on the journey here.’

  My mouth closed. I was done with that conversation.

  ‘You two have been with him this whole time,’ Finn said. ‘So what’s going on with Jonah?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Penn asked her.

  ‘He seems lost. And I don’t … it’s weird not to have that instinctive connection to him anymore.’

  ‘He hates the magic in his veins,’ Penn said. ‘Hates it. Hates it.’ I watched as he clenched his jaw and wilfully stopped his repetition. I was impressed: I’d never seen him try that before. ‘But he doesn’t know how to turn it off.’

  ‘He can’t,’ she muttered. ‘And he shouldn’t hate it. He mustn’t allow it that power over him.’

  ‘Talk to him,’ Penn urged her. ‘He hasn’t been right without you.’

  ‘I’m glad he had you two,’ she replied, then flashed me a sly look. ‘He seems very attached.’

  ‘He loves Isadora,’ Penn agreed as though it was the most obvious, normal thing in the world. Panic struck me. I could see him struggling and failing to contain himself. ‘He loves Isadora. He loves Isadora. He loves –’

  ‘Penn, please!’ I exclaimed.

  He fell silent, but I could see his hands fidgeting badly.

  ‘Relax,’ Finn said, reaching to ruffle his hair. But he was agitated and recoiled from her touch. Penn fled, swinging himself from the roof with the grace of a monkey.

  Guilt was hot in my stomach. I rubbed my eyes wearily. ‘Jonah doesn’t.’ He couldn’t possibly. He didn’t even know me.
>
  ‘You don’t need to fear it,’ Finn said.

  My jaw clenched and she fell silent.

  There was a question I needed to ask her and I’d been gathering my courage since she arrived.

  ‘When you went north,’ I hesitated, ‘did you find it? A way to break the bond?’

  ‘Oh!’ Finn exclaimed. ‘Forgive me, I should have told you.’

  I swallowed. Please.

  ‘It’s Thorne,’ she said. ‘He has the power to end the bond in his blood, just as the ability will be in the blood of his children. And it doesn’t have to be all or nothing – he can break individual bonds. At least we think he can, anyway. We haven’t tried it yet.’

  I let out a rushed breath of relief. There was a means after all. But he was too far away for it to happen any time in the near future. So for now I’d have to settle on removing myself from Falco’s presence.

  ‘I’m going to start sleeping elsewhere.’

  ‘Why? Izzy, don’t do this now. Don’t pull away.’ When I didn’t reply she reached for my hand. ‘You’re family. We don’t separate.’

  Calmly I drew my hand from hers. I wasn’t family. I might wish I could be, but if they had any idea what I was, they wouldn’t want to be within miles of me.

  The sound of someone climbing the wall interrupted us and we looked over to see Jonah. ‘My turn on watch,’ he explained helplessly when he saw our expressions.

  Finn looked like she wanted to say more, but refrained. We both headed for the edge of the roof, but Jonah stopped me.

  ‘Iz. Can we talk a moment?’

  It was the last thing I felt like, but guilt stayed my feet. Finn disappeared and I stood awkwardly, not looking at Jonah.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  I nodded.

  ‘You’ve been distant lately. More so than usual. I guess I thought … I thought that the two of us had come to understand each other.’

  I looked at him with no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘You were thawing. Opening up. We were connecting. I know we were. Now you feel a thousand miles away again.’

  Something in me turned sad. For his need. For my inability to fill it. For whatever he imagined lived between us.

  I sat on the edge of the roof, trying to discover words that might ease his pain but finding none. I couldn’t possibly know how I might have felt had I not bonded to someone else. I didn’t know if affection might have grown between Jonah and me. Perhaps it would have. Perhaps it would have been real. More likely I would have forbidden its existence in favour of my revenge. In the end, there was no life in which I could give him what he wanted. I’d never possessed it.

  ‘Why is this so hard for you?’ he asked, taking my hand. He assumed so much.

  I urged myself to stay seated, to find kindness. ‘You don’t know what I am, Jonah.’

  ‘Of course I do.’ He leaned in and I realised with alarm that he was about to kiss me.

  ‘I hate to interrupt.’ A cold voice sliced through the moment just as I recoiled. We both turned to see Falco’s head emerging from the vines. ‘My turn on watch.’

  ‘I just started,’ Jonah said. ‘I’ll stay.’

  ‘Get inside the house, kid,’ Falco ordered, and there was steel in his voice.

  Jonah was irritated. ‘Come on,’ he murmured, pulling me up by the hand.

  ‘I’ll stay a moment.’

  ‘No,’ Falco said flatly without looking at me. ‘You go too.’

  Fury kindled inside me. ‘Leave, Jonah,’ I all but spat.

  He frowned, confused. ‘Fine.’

  Once he was gone I whirled to face Falco, who was standing on the very edge of the roof, arms folded. I imagined pushing him off. ‘You don’t give me orders.’

  ‘No? And why is that?’ I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the disdain in his voice. ‘Because you’re a rebel leader intent on disrupting my reign and killing me? Remind me why I haven’t imprisoned you as a dangerous criminal yet.’

  ‘Because you don’t have a prison, nor do you have any power,’ I snarled. Gods, how did he get under my skin so badly? I drew a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

  ‘That’s it, shut it all out,’ he muttered. ‘Wouldn’t want you to feel anything, would we?’

  ‘Grow up.’

  ‘I’m not the one messing around with a poor child who has no idea who you really are.’

  I flushed pink. ‘It’s no business of yours what I do with anyone.’

  He laughed coldly. ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘There’s an end to this bond,’ I snapped.

  ‘Yes, and he’s a thousand leagues north.’

  ‘You knew?’

  ‘Of course I knew.’

  White-hot rage threaded my veins. I wanted to kill him. Desperately. How could he not have said anything to me? ‘Is this a game to you?’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Falco replied, facing me. Shadows obscured his face and for a moment he seemed like someone else entirely. ‘It’s my whole life. It’s my death. It’s my fate to shoulder as I must, not something to cower before.’

  I hated him. My fingers twitched towards my knives.

  He saw it and rolled his eyes. ‘Go on then. It’s always the knives.’

  I climbed back into the courtyard. But as I lay down at the edge of the sleeping bodies I knew there was no way I would sleep. I stared at the ceiling and dreaded the moment he would return and walk past me. Even the sight of him made me sick to my stomach, even the thought. Because the desire to climb back onto the roof and hurt him somehow was more intense than any desire I had ever known – except the desire to touch him.

  Falco

  I watched the sun rise over my city, and I watched the horizon. My heart beat painfully; my thoughts were too erratic to pin down. I imagined flight, and out and away. I imagined chasing that horizon for all the days of my life, no matter where it led me.

  It was my rumbling stomach that finally made me descend into the house. This constant hunger played tricks on my mind. I was so unused to it, had never gone hungry a day in my life. Everyone was rising but I couldn’t see Isadora and for once I was glad. On my way to the kitchen I passed Elias and Sara’s bedroom, and though I didn’t mean to, I heard their voices clearly.

  ‘… and then what – just hope?’

  ‘What else are we meant to do?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I don’t think we’re putting our hope in the right thing. He’s a coward, El. He’s impotent.’

  My heart lurched and I went to sit at the kitchen table, barely aware of the people around me. Glynn placed a bowl of oats before me and I thanked her faintly. What was I doing here? I needed a plan. I needed to not be constantly wrapped up in the ache of having a mate who hated me.

  Isadora walked past and I felt the lurching tug. My thoughts were wrenched from anything important and settled instead upon our argument last night.

  ‘You two,’ I addressed Ava and Finn, who were sitting on the kitchen bench. ‘What do you think of ending the bond?’ I was watching Isadora and saw her shoulders tense.

  ‘Why?’ Finn asked, ever contrary.

  ‘Humour me.’

  ‘Well I don’t want to end mine.’ She shrugged. ‘But then again, I happen to be bonded to the best person in the world, so it’s different for me.’

  I smiled. She wasn’t wrong. ‘What about you, Ava? Knowing what it costs you, and what you stand to lose, would you end yours?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Elias and Sara?’ I turned to where the couple was leaning in the doorway.

  ‘No,’ they said at once.

  ‘Why not?’

  The married couple glanced at each other. ‘Why would we?’

  ‘Fate bonds you for a reason,’ Finn said.

  ‘There’s no such thing as fate,’ Isadora said softly, and everyone in the room turned to her, surprised she’d spoken.

  ‘How can you say that?’ I demanded. ‘It’s proven every time a life is entwined
with another.’

  She met my eyes. ‘What you’re describing is magic.’

  ‘Is that not a coward’s way to look at it? If fate is real, then should we not have the strength to endure ours?’

  Softly she asked, eyes flashing, ‘Would you have us lie before it and surrender, Majesty?’ The slow tilt of her head was bird-like. The raising of her chin. She spoke clearly, her voice a deep seductive calm. ‘I shall choose my own fate.’

  My spirit bucked against it, denied its pull. It wanted not calm but anger. ‘The very nature of fate is that it is not ours to determine!’

  ‘Easy, you two!’ Finn interjected. ‘The kitchen is about to spontaneously combust.’

  There was a charged silence as Isadora and I held our tongues.

  ‘No offence, Iz,’ Finn went on, ‘but I thought as you do before I bonded. I couldn’t understand, but now I do: the bond reflects the choice of your soul. It knows you better than you know yourself. You’ll see one day.’

  Elias and Sara nodded emphatically.

  Isadora’s lip curled into a smile. The red of her eyes seemed to deepen somehow, shifting only the slightest towards black. It startled me, drew me deeper. I could feel myself slipping, my edges blurring. The truth was becoming harder to deny by the second.

  Before anyone could say more she walked from the kitchen, her gait so graceful it was more like a glide. Her usual response to emotion: to walk away from it. I stood so fast my chair clattered to the ground, startling everyone.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered, reaching to right it.

  I knew they watched as I hurried after Isadora – I didn’t care what they thought or what they knew. I was feverish. She was closing the door to the bathroom when I shoved it back open and shut myself in with her.

  ‘What are we arguing about?’ she asked me. ‘There is poison in our veins and neither of us wants it there.’

  My heart thumped and the words died on my lips. Why was I so angry with her? The sight of her on the roof, holding Jonah’s hand … a complete impossibility. But worse, so much worse, was what she’d said. She wanted to break our bond. That’s where the fury was coming from, and the knowledge hit me woozily.

  My own foolishness felt as vast as the ocean. Of course she wanted to break it. What right did I have to be shocked by that? I should want the same.