Isadora

by Charlotte McConaghy

  My sense of reality unbalanced; this was too surreal, too strange.

  I waited for her to break the surface, but she didn’t.

  Horror dawned. I ran into the water, destroying its clarity with huge splashes. I took a breath and plunged under, swimming through the pitch-black, so black it was tar. I searched but I couldn’t find her and panic made my lungs burn. I kicked for the surface and took another breath, then ducked under again. Where was she? It didn’t make sense – I had just seen her but now she was gone, there was only endless black …

  I twisted around and around, swimming forwards and doubling back, sure I was going mad in the darkness.

  Until – a wisp of white in the depths, like a plume of smoke. Or a long tendril of hair. Relief shocked me and I kicked for her, taking her tiny body in my hands and surging for the surface.

  We broke free and I swam her to the bank, hauling her out onto the twigs and bark of the forest floor. She coughed and spluttered, spitting up water with a shudder.

  I could hardly breathe as I paced before her, too filled with adrenalin to stop moving. I was so frightened, deathly frightened. Isadora’s unsteady eyes found me. She was awake now, pale and small and scared. There were wet leaves all over her body, brown smudges in her hair and on her skin.

  ‘I can’t tell what’s real,’ she whispered. ‘Falco. I can’t. I can’t tell the difference.’

  ‘This is real,’ I promised her, sinking to my knees. ‘You’re awake.’

  She shook her head. ‘You said that before. In the dream. You say it in every dream.’

  I reached to smooth her wet hair off her face, trying to make her believe me, to see me. ‘That really scared me,’ I admitted, shaken to my core. I couldn’t calm down, couldn’t come back from the fear. My hands on her face were trembling. ‘I couldn’t find you, Iz. I couldn’t find you.’

  ‘Shh,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here.’ And then she pressed her lips to mine.

  She was sweet and we were feverish as we kissed beside the lake of calm that had tried to drown her.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Isadora

  Neither of us was able to face the trip back through the brambles and wild heath to the camp, so instead we slept in each other’s arms, tangled together on the bank of the lake. The calm, calm lake.

  I woke, unsure of the time of day. Heavy clouds hung overhead, hiding the sun, though it had to be daybreak. ‘Don’t,’ he muttered, his lips in my hair. ‘Don’t wake. It’s too nice here.’

  ‘A storm is coming.’

  ‘Let it.’

  I uncurled from him and sat up. He gave an annoyed grunt. I was cold to my bones from having slept in my wet tunic on the wet ground. Too strange. Last night had been too strange. I truly couldn’t work out what had been dream and what hadn’t.

  But he was here with me, so that was one true thing I could hold onto.

  Had I dreamt his kiss? Was the taste of his lips a phantom pleasure, gone now with day?

  His hand rested against my spine. I felt it acutely. Just as I’d felt it after we made love in Sancia. It had rested just there, in that exact spot, and then he had taken it away for hatred of me and I’d been left with only cold absence. That had been a dream, had it not? Was I dreaming still?

  ‘Is this real?’ I whispered, confused.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, sitting up and resting his chin on my shoulder, his lips to my ear. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How can I be sure?’

  It felt too sweet to be real.

  ‘Trust me.’

  I tilted my face to his. ‘You’re like this in both realms. Which version of you am I to trust?’

  The question hit him like a blow. He pulled away from me. Drew his knees up to rest his arms upon. ‘Neither, I suppose,’ he murmured. ‘None. No version.’ Falco swallowed and met my eyes. ‘Maybe all my versions are just dreams.’

  ‘Leaving what?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He looked away, eyes resting on the lake.

  ‘Do you want to know a secret?’

  He nodded but I could see that he was a long way away, hardly listening. Trapped inside some kind of self-torment he had created.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘all your versions, all your masks, all your disguises – every single one of them – is real.’

  Falco’s eyes returned to study me. Up this close there were a thousand colours in his irises, and inside each colour was another thousand colours, and inside each of those another thousand.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, blunt as a challenge.

  ‘What kind of person,’ I asked him, ‘is one thing only?’

  Falco shook his head, climbing to his feet with an abrupt burst of energy. ‘You don’t get it.’

  I watched the surface of the lake, no longer calm and undisturbed, but shivering with the wind of the approaching storm. Ripples moved out and out and out. Whoosh went the trees, scattering leaves through the air. I rested my head on my knees and looked up at him in the grey light, standing there above me.

  ‘Maybe it’s alright to be feckless,’ I dared to murmur.

  Falco looked at me as though I’d mortally wounded him. His mouth opened and closed, filled with wordless betrayal, and then he strode into the forest.

  I turned back to the lake.

  Calm, calm, calm it had whispered. Right up until the moment it drowned me.

  Falco

  Irresponsible. Lazy. Indifferent. Useless. Incompetent.

  Those were the qualities of being feckless. She must not understand the word, had not yet learnt its meaning. It was not alright to be any of those things. Not for an Emperor, not for anyone.

  My pulse was racing as I sprinted back through the forest. Because there was also the possibility that she did know the meaning of the word, and had wanted to wound me with it. Did she truly think me feckless?

  Was I?

  Isadora

  I was still beside the lake when I heard it. The soft shuffle of footfall, the snapping of a nearby twig. Assuming it must be Falco returned, I remained where I was.

  And was rewarded with the blade of an axe appearing gently and precisely to sit against the soft flesh of my throat. I didn’t make the mistake of reaching for any of my knives, but rose to my feet as the axe bid me.

  ‘Easy now, demon,’ said a rich voice behind me. A man’s voice, heavily accented with the northern Pirenti form of speech. ‘Turn slowly and I will look upon your face.’

  Very well. If he wished to look upon my face before he died, I would let him.

  I edged around, while he kept the blade always at my neck. I could feel in the pressure of it that he was skilled with the weapon. He knew how not to nick the skin.

  The man was leaner than I’d come to expect from Pirenti men. He had long limbs and long hair, with outlandish markings on his face and skull. And black, bottomless eyes, brimming with expression. I regretted that they would shortly be empty.

  How, I wondered, was one meant to live without killing, when killing sought one out at every turn? The world made its monsters indeed.

  ‘How do you fare so far south, snow demon? Your place is north under the ice mountain, where no babes might stray into your path.’

  I titled my head at the peculiar words, studying his face. I didn’t think he feared me, despite naming me demon, despite holding an axe to my throat.

  ‘I’ll say a prayer for you, and hope your soul finds its way back to wherever it’s from.’ He paused and added, almost sadly, ‘That’s if you have a soul. Certainly the gods will forgive me for sending it back.’

  His grip changed – he meant to kill me. Before he could move, the dagger at my right forearm came up, slashed through the unprotected wrist of his blade hand and then flipped to rest against his carotid artery. His axe fell to the ground as he lost the ability to grip it – I had severed the tendons in his arm.

  The man’s eyes widened, but I saw acceptance in them, and understanding. A man used to walking at the edge of death.


  ‘I’m no demon,’ I told him softly. ‘But I’ve also got no wish to die today. On your knees.’

  He went calmly to his knees and gazed up at me. The wind picked up, rushing through the trees around us. The lake was no longer anything resembling calm.

  I hesitated, looking down at the dark-eyed man. Don’t, you fool, I screamed inwardly. Never hesitate. But hesitate I did. And in those brief moments, someone else moved.

  A small child was running along the bank towards us. Her dark hair whipped about her and she struggled against a particularly strong gust of wind. ‘Wait!’ she cried. ‘Don’t!’

  ‘Get back, love!’ the man roared. And I realised that he hadn’t been trying to murder me for the sport of it – he’d been protecting his daughter from a creature he thought dangerous.

  My dagger remained at his neck as the girl arrived, panting hard, hair and eyes wild. I saw with astonishment that those eyes were an incredible shade of violet. ‘Please don’t kill him,’ she begged me. ‘He’s a good, kind man.’

  ‘Step back,’ he ordered her. ‘Do not be fooled by the small and weak look of the creature – it is disguise for its bloodlust.’

  But the girl ignored her father, reaching to place her hand on top of mine, holding the dagger along with me. I blinked, astonished by her courage.

  ‘She’s no demon,’ the girl said, looking into my eyes with an unblinking stare. She calmly removed the blade from the man’s neck; my hand obeyed hers for no fathomable reason. ‘She’s the snow goddess,’ the child said, and then she flung herself on me, clutching at my neck.

  I stumbled back, the dagger dropping from my hand. I was so shocked that I could hardly remember to breathe. What prepared you for the unburdened generosity of children? For the affection they so easily afforded?

  Absurdly, my arms lifted of their own accord to return the embrace, and as I held onto her tiny body I was embarrassingly close to tears.

  ‘Put her down,’ the man ordered me, ever fierce.

  I met his eyes over the girl’s shoulder. ‘Whose blade was drawn first? Your daughter’s in no danger from me.’

  The girl gave a trickle of laughter as she pulled away. ‘Erik’s not my da. He’s our hirðmenn.’

  I had no idea what that was but I frowned, wondering why a man would be traveling with a child not his own.

  ‘Sade! Rose! Come out!’ she shouted, but her voice was lost in the wind.

  The man – Erik – reclaimed his axe and held it at the ready, pushing the girl behind him once more. His wounded right arm was used to keep her back. She rolled her eyes, flashing me a conspiratorial look. I couldn’t help it – my lips twitched.

  ‘We’ll pass, and there’ll be no need for bloodshed,’ he shouted over the gale force.

  Two bodies emerged from the copse of trees, following the water’s edge. A woman and a second child, treading the smooth pebbles of the shore.

  ‘Don’t come any further!’ Erik ordered them although I wasn’t sure they heard. He started backing away from me, tugging the girl with him. ‘We’re leaving peacefully,’ he assured me.

  But I was looking at the second child, noting her similarity. Noting, in fact, the identical features. My eyes went to the woman, incredibly beautiful with her red hair and fine features. I had heard those names before, had I not? Or some very alike?

  ‘What’s your name?’ I called to the girl.

  I saw Erik’s mouth move to warn her.

  But she shouted, ‘Ella!’

  A breath left me as my eyes moved between the four of them. An unlikely group. I smiled, and it was a real smile, an unguarded one. ‘I know someone who will be very pleased to see you,’ I said.

  Falco

  Cloth City was in chaos. The storm had arrived and there was no doubt in my mind that its source was not nature, but magic. Which meant Dren and Galia knew exactly where we were, had probably been tracking our movements since the moment we broke free of the cages.

  The sky had turned black. Tents flew from their pegs, whipped into the air and slammed into people. A man flew past me, dragged by his tent caught by a gust of wind. It smashed him straight into the trunk of a tree with a sickening sound – I didn’t need to check to know he was dead. Campfires reignited and gales sent the flames into the surrounding cloth – I saw with perfect clarity what was about to happen. The whole camp was seconds from igniting.

  A huge creak rent the air and I was barely in time to dive out of the path of a falling tree. It crashed to the ground, flattening at least three people who’d not been quick enough.

  How did you fight a storm? Where could you take shelter if you had but cloth? Everywhere was a danger – the only cover was the trees, but they were falling left and right, aflame with the ever growing fire. This forest was a deathtrap and I felt impotent in the face of it. Screams were rising within the sounds of the burning campsite. I hoped Izzy would stay where she was, near the relative safety of the water, and in the same heartbeat desperately needed her here – she would know what to do.

  A faint noise reached me, a wild whinny. I spun to see a glorious pegasis rear onto its back legs to avoid another falling tree, its wings stretching in alarm. Radha. She manoeuvred herself bravely around burning logs and debris to reach my side with another whinny. My strength bolstered, I swung up onto her back and leant low to her ear. ‘You wonderful, brave, foolish creature.’

  With my knees I moved her forwards and she navigated the chaos as though born to it, fluid and graceful and sure-footed. ‘North!’ I shouted at everyone I could see. The plane was north, and safe from the fire. ‘Run north and don’t stop until you’re free of the forest!’

  Radha jumped over a burning log and pivoted her legs as she landed, twisting us around an iron tent pole and then flattening herself under a sheet of flying canvas. She was glorious, pounding through the campsite so I could direct the Sparrow’s army to run north. Most seemed to be listening, despite not knowing who I was.

  I spotted a woman pinned beneath a tree branch and swung off Radha. ‘I’ve got you,’ I grunted as I took the woman’s arms and dragged her free. Smoke was in my lungs, ash in my eyes as I mounted once more.

  We spotted a group of soldiers trapped within a circle of burning tents, the flames biting higher with each second. Radha turned and flapped her enormous wings, working to douse at least a portion of the wall so the people could leap through it.

  ‘Now!’ I shouted as the wind she had created briefly flattened the flames. The soldiers dashed through, sprinting north. But the length and breadth of Radha’s wings were designed to find any pocket of air the sky might hold, and as they were now spread wide they caught a mighty gust of wind. It launched her off her hooves, flipping her over into a wild tumble. I tried to tuck myself into a ball but was thrown to the earth and caught by the horse’s flailing legs. The right side of my body scraped along the ground and I felt skin split. Miraculously I wasn’t pinned or knocked unconscious. Struggling dizzily to my feet, I stumbled to Radha’s side. She was splayed over the ground and my heart stopped, thinking her legs or her wings or something must be broken, but she lurched abruptly to her hooves, tossing her head and shaking herself off.

  ‘Good girl,’ I breathed, stroking her trembling neck. She snorted and stamped her hoof, bidding me remount.

  We cantered through the remaining area of the camp in search of trapped or injured people and dragged them out of immediate harm. The flames were growing, everything was alight including the grass and bark of the forest floor. It would be a miracle if the fire did not take out the entire forest at this rate.

  ‘Falco!’ I heard, and jerked towards the voice.

  I couldn’t see anything at first – there was heavy smoke now – so we leapt over burning tents and galloped to where the camp ended. There, pounded by wind, stood Isadora and my nieces.

  My heart exploded with terror. What in gods’ names are they doing here?

  Roselyn was here too, and a Pirenti man I didn’t know
.

  ‘Take them!’ Izzy shouted. I reached down and lifted first Sadie and then Ella onto Radha’s back, tightening my arms and knees around them.

  ‘Where are you taking them?’ Roselyn demanded.

  ‘Out of this madness,’ I replied over the howl of wind. ‘They’re my blood, Lady Roselyn – on my life I will keep them safe.’

  She hesitated, clearly torn, then nodded.

  ‘Hold onto each other and lie flat,’ I ordered the girls and they flattened themselves against the horse’s neck. To Izzy I called, ‘Get north, clear of the forest.’

  She nodded and I turned Radha and kicked her into a wild gallop. We streamed through the burning forest, flat and fast, ducking our way under and around flying debris. I pressed myself over the tiny bodies before me, sheltering them as best I could in the hail of bark and twigs that lashed at me. Many times the storm tried to force us back into the flames, but Radha was strong as she denied the gale, running straight into it, never allowing it to dictate our course.

  It was too dangerous to try flying – uncurling her wings once had nearly gotten us both killed. Instead she held them flat and we tried to make ourselves as small as possible that we might slice through the chaos like an arrow finding its mark.

  We should have been clear by now. But the storm held within it the dark madness of the warders. Just as we spotted the beginning of the grassy plains, a huge wall of flame erupted directly ahead. Radha reared back in fright and I gripped tightly to hold my seat and ensure the girls weren’t flung free.

  She landed and turned swiftly, running along the flames’ edge, but it wasn’t long before the fire cut us off again, and soon we were surrounded. Radha slowed, jerking her head to find a way out, but there wasn’t one. The heat was magnificent; the air itself burned.

  My eyes scanned the ground for anything, anything at all that might be used to shelter us. Radha had already seen something, and carried us to a ditch in the earth. I slid off her back and reached for the girls, tugging them to the small trench. ‘Stay down, curl up tight,’ I ordered. Then I took Radha’s mane and steered her to where they were huddled.