The Five Daughters of the Moon

by Leena Likitalo

  So what did she say today? I’ll tell you, Scribs. Have just a little more patience.

  Merile and Alina were feeding the rats dried hare legs once more. The rats gnawed at the leather and bones, silent enough. Merile cooed over the rats as if they were the most perfect creatures ever to live. But Alina wouldn’t say a word, no matter how Merile coached her.

  “What is it?” Merile finally asked.

  Every one of us is concerned about Alina. More often than not, she leaves her meals untouched. Since we don’t know what she’ll taste, we’ll have to spike everything with her medicine: the porridge, the eye of butter, the cloudberry jam, the blackcurrant juice, and her tea. This is something our captors didn’t foresee, and we’re now running out of the supply. Based on the discussions Celestia has had with Captain Janlav, Alina’s medicine isn’t something that’s easily acquired here in the middle of nowhere.

  Alina buried her head against the brown rat’s back. I really had to hearken my senses to make out her words. But this is what she said: “I fear something has happened to Mama.”

  I think Merile has an inkling of what really came to pass, though Celestia and Elise won’t talk of it for fear of upsetting Alina. Try as we may to keep secrets from each other, there’s no way to hide the truth when we breathe the same air day after day. And lately, that air has been getting very stale indeed. Up till yesterday evening, we hadn’t been let out even once.

  “Mama.” Merile sniffed, but her hold on the bone loosened so much that the black rat managed to snatch it for itself. I don’t know if she does it on purpose, but things have been slipping from her fingers more and more often lately. “Mama is the Crescent Empress. No harm can fall on her under the Moon.”

  No matter how annoying Merile sometimes acts, I do admire her bravery. She knows her duty without having to be told. We must hold up the façade before Alina, for to her, ignorance is bliss. For a long time, I wanted to be older, but now I would like to be younger. Much younger. Too young to understand that Gagargi Prataslav’s schemes have torn Mama’s empire asunder.

  Instead of being soothed by Merile’s words, Alina sank deeper into the sofa, taking the brown rat with her. Though her eyes are deep set, with perpetual dark circles around them, her gaze was strong and unwavering. Un-ignorable. One by one, Celestia, Elise, I, and Merile lowered our needles and teacups and whatnots and turned to face our little sister.

  “A shadow of a swan visited me last night,” she said in a gossamer-thin, trembling voice. She clutched the brown rat against her chest. “Mama is dead.”

  Celestia paled. She breathed rapidly through her mouth the denial every single one of us wanted to voice. “No . . .”

  Elise clasped a hand over her mouth. “Surely . . .”

  “A swan?” I asked, trying to make sense of what I’d heard. If Alina had been visited by our family’s charge, the most sacred bird . . . The scriptures say many things about swans, some truly terrifying when you stop to think about them.

  “A shadow,” Merile repeated. This meant more to her. There was something Alina hadn’t shared with the rest of us, and I couldn’t figure it out then.

  “It couldn’t keep her safe . . .” Alina burst into tears then. The brown rat on her lap turned around, whip-fast, to lick her face. That did little to soothe her. She only wailed louder. “Mama is dead!”

  The wail battered against the lacquered wood panels, echoed through the length of the carriage. At once, Celestia was on her feet, and Elise too. I scooted after them, always clumsier and slower. Mama had decided to remain behind in the Summer City. She’d sent us away with the guards to keep us safe. But that wasn’t the whole story. We aren’t free to come and go as we please—we’re prisoners here.

  “Now, now . . .” Celestia kneeled before the sofa, cupping Alina’s tear-stained cheeks with her slender hands. Her voice, when she spoke, was so ethereal and kind that I wanted to believe her too. “It was just a bad dream.”

  Alina paused her bawling only to draw a shuddering breath. “No. Not a dream. I sheltered that shadow in my hem.”

  The rat that had lain on Merile’s lap jumped down and rushed to lick Alina’s hands. Merile dashed after it to Alina’s left side. Elise settled on the other side. Uncertain of what to do or how to help, I hovered behind Celestia.

  “Hush, now,” Celestia tried. There was one thing she’d said from the very beginning, one rule we had to adhere to, no matter how challenging it felt at times. We should never draw attention to ourselves. We had to wear the simple dresses we were told to wear. We had to eat the meager meals without a single complaint voiced. We had to establish a routine so that the guards would forget that we existed and when the time came for us to break the routine, it would take them longer to notice that. “Hush now, my little Alina.”

  A series of trembles traveled from the tip of Alina’s head all the way to her tiny feet. “It wasn’t a dream,” she cried. “The swan told me. Mama is dead!”

  If anything, her voice had gotten just louder! It chimed against the curtained windows, scattered from the osprey chandelier. I met Elise’s eyes by chance, and her expression mirrored my dread. This wasn’t good.

  “Mama! Mama . . .”

  But if there’s one positive thing to be said about Merile’s temper tantrums, it’s that the guards have grown as weary of them as we have. And yet, we couldn’t count on them not coming to investigate this disturbance. Eventually, they’d come.

  “What do we do?” A part of me did believe Alina. Not a big part, but swans are sacred. If Mama were dead, if the guards learned that we knew of it, they’d want to know how we’d acquired this information. They would search through our cabins and carriages. Celestia’s master plan would no doubt be thwarted.

  The same thought must have crossed Elise’s mind, for she muttered the most unbecoming curses under her breath. Where she’d learned such peasant manners, I can but wonder.

  “Don’t say a word.” Celestia cast a warning look at us. She took a deep breath and met Alina’s gaze. “Hush now, we heard you. You fear for Mother.”

  I nodded, but in my mind, I wondered if shocked little Alina had even registered Celestia’s words.

  It was then that we heard the pounding of boots in the cloakroom. Soon after, the door opened and Captain Janlav entered the carriage. His midnight blue coat was buttoned all the way up, but it was missing two silver buttons. He didn’t wear a hat, and the once-shaved sides of his head grew short brown hair. His rifle rested against his back, and he didn’t seem inclined to unstrap it.

  “What is going on here this time around?” He actually sighed.

  Elise got up from her seat, elegantly, like a dove taking to the air. She circled the sofa that Merile had occupied earlier and smoothed her skirts in a way that promised she’d take care of the captain, no matter what that would require. Though now that he seemed bored to begin with, a kind smile from my sister might suffice.

  I still didn’t know what to do. Just hover behind Celestia? I felt out of place, someone whose mere presence would call forth suspicion. I quickly stole Elise’s place on the sofa and hugged little Alina. At least she no longer wailed, merely sobbed. But her sobbing did wring my heartstrings.

  “Captain Janlav,” Elise said, halting before the guard. She leaned toward him, her head angled minutely so that she could study him from under her red-gold brows. “That’s your name, soldier, isn’t it?”

  For a moment, Captain Janlav stared at Elise as though he’d never met her before, in awe as if she were the most beautiful girl in this world. Which she may well be. His chapped lips parted. He closed his eyes. A shudder ran through his body. When he opened his eyes, he pointedly avoided looking at Elise, but gazed past her at us.

  Oh, Scribs, how we must have looked to him! Girls with dirty, braided hair. White dresses no longer pristine, but stinking of sweat and stained at the hem and sleeves. Skin oily and flaking at the same time. All of us red-cheeked. One sobbing, the others distraught by t
his. It makes me want to cry when I think of what has become of us.

  “Yes,” Captain Janlav replied to Elise at last. Sometimes I think even he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Perhaps he didn’t realize what it would be like to keep another human being as a captive for weeks. Perhaps it’s as painful for him to keep us locked in the carriage as it is for us to be so confined. I wonder . . . No, I’m sure he doesn’t know what the gagargi is hoping to accomplish. But he must know where we’re heading. Can it be worse there than it is here?

  Elise circled the captain so that if he wanted to address her, he’d need to do so with his back against us. She glanced past him, at us, with one eyebrow cocked. From that I gathered that she wanted Alina distracted. I pressed my hands over our little sister’s ears as if we were about to play some silly game. Celestia caught my intention and made a funny face at her. Since when has the empress-to-be known how to do such!

  “Our little sister . . .” Elise offered the captain a girlish shrug, one that spoke of embarrassment, but also positioned her assets in the most flattering angle. This too, had to be something she’d practiced before her mirrors. If you must know, Scribs, I haven’t touched my hand mirror since we boarded this train, but seeing my sister utilize her skills renewed my resolve to practice mine. “You know of her condition.”

  Captain Janlav’s posture betrayed nothing of what he might have been thinking. Our little sister’s weakness was a secret, but not a particularly well-kept one. Since our captors had had the foresight to pack with them her medicine, they had to know of it. “Yes. I’m aware of it.”

  I did wonder then if he’d ever been capable of forming full sentences. Once upon a time, Elise had danced with this man. She claimed she’d kissed him on multiple occasions, that they’d been in love. But now, he acted as if they’d never met. Or if they had, it was on the night that he’d escorted us into this train, and that was it.

  “She’s not eating or sleeping,” Elise said, every word the truth. “There has been a turn for the worse in her condition.”

  Captain Janlav glanced over his shoulder, brown eyes narrowing. He isn’t a stupid man; the opposite. He could sense something was afoot.

  Elise reached out to grab his arm, but he strode to us, too fast for her to stop him. Despite his determination, he moved silently, akin to a hunter. The carpet must have dulled the thud of his boots.

  As he approached, Celestia, Elise, I, and Merile stared at him in a horror of sorts. If he’d ask Alina what ailed her, she’d tell. That much was for sure. I could already see it, the guards turning over every pillow and blanket, finding you, Scribs, and the pearl bracelets Celestia had made. They’d confiscate them and keep us locked in our cabins. Day and night through. We’d never see the sky again.

  Captain Janlav halted behind Celestia. He motioned for me to remove my hands from over Alina’s ears. I did so hastily, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much they trembled.

  “Well then, little one, what is it that has so unsettled you?” It was the kindness in his voice I hadn’t expected. He was our captor. I wanted to think of him as an evil man. But that he is not.

  Alina’s colorless lips parted. Her tiny teeth peeked out. She blinked as if she were not quite sure where she was, and with whom.

  I prayed to Papa for her to not say it, for anything else to happen. Anything at all . . . Oh, Scribs, that’s exactly what happened.

  Alina spasmed. Her back arched violently, and her head lolled uncontrollably. She squealed a disquieting sound, something an injured animal might shriek. I shrank away from her, fearing I’d caused the spasm, by asking Papa for help. But now that I think of it, it can’t have been that, but rather the shock of finding Captain Janlav there, looming over her.

  I did burst into tears, and so did Merile. But Captain Janlav brushed Celestia aside briskly and kneeled before Alina. “Hold her still.”

  Elise took my place. Celestia replaced Merile at Alina’s side. They clamped their hands around our little sister’s arms.

  “Do hold her still,” Captain Janlav repeated calmly, as if he’d seen the worst things that can come to pass in life. Well, he’s a soldier. Perhaps he has. “Hold her head still.”

  Elise pressed her body against Alina’s, pinning our little sister against the sofa. Celestia cupped her head. Captain Janlav bent over her.

  “You must not let her move,” Captain Janlav said, and then, without waiting for further acknowledgement, he pried little Alina’s lids up, one at a time.

  Only the whites of her eyes showed. His lips pressed into a tight line. I don’t know what he’d expected to see. Us using our little sister as a ruse? Could he really think that ill of us?

  Alina spasmed again, so forcefully I feared her back would snap. It was at that horrifying moment that two more guards stormed into our carriage. One was the big burly man with a protruding belly. We don’t know his name, but I’ve named him Belly. The other was gnarly and narrow, even younger than Captain Janlav. Him, I’ve named Boy.

  “What are they up to this time around?” Belly brandished a rifle as if he’d had it in his mind to teach us a lesson.

  “Can’t you see?” Captain Janlav shouted back at him. He pressed Alina’s shoulders, to keep her down. A wet spot appeared on her lap. My poor sister had lost control of her bladder.

  Belly and Boy glanced at each other. Boy looked as if he were about to snigger or make a distasteful remark.

  “Close the door,” Captain Janlav growled at them. “Wait outside. That’s a direct order from me, and thus from the gagargi himself.”

  Belly and Boy paled. Belly fumbled with his rifle as if guns could solve anything, least of all heal my sister. Boy grabbed his arm and led the older man out. But even as the door clicked shut, Alina kept on spasming.

  “Is there anyone with medical skills aboard?” Celestia asked. The Moon bless us that she’s the empress-to-be, rational even in the most distressing of situations!

  Captain Janlav shook his head, worry etching chasms on his forehead. “No.”

  It was then that the full meaning of the words he’d said to Belly and Boy dawned upon me. He’s in charge of this operation and, it seems, also of our safety. If anything were to happen to us, Gagargi Prataslav would hold him accountable for that.

  “We must . . .” Elise paused to swallow a sob. Her gray eyes were doe-wide, pleading. “We must get her help.”

  But just as suddenly as Alina had started spasming, she stilled. No, that’s not the right word. She collapsed onto the sofa as if she had not a single strand of strength left in her body. Her narrow chest sank with a shuddering exhale. Then her breathing resumed a shallow rhythm. Her eyes remained closed.

  “We will get her help,” Captain Janlav said. He squeezed Elise’s shoulder in a way that might have been just a reflex or then meant something much more. Then he left without as much as looking over his shoulder.

  Scribs, it was truly terrible. Almost the most terrible thing I’ve ever witnessed! The scriptures, yes you know it, I’ve been reading them because there isn’t anything else to read here. And though I might have once claimed so to dear Notes, I don’t know them by heart. I hardly ever bothered to read a full chapter before. But there’s one sentence that brought me comfort as I repeated it in my mind.

  After all the wrong, there will be right.

  After all the wrong, there will be right.

  After all the wrong, there will be right.

  The day passed slowly as my sisters and I patted Alina’s forehead with a cold, wet cloth and massaged her arms and legs. The nameless servant woman came to clean, but she couldn’t quite scrub off the yellow stain on the sofa. She helped us change Alina’s dress. She eyed our little sister, radiating pity, and then spoke the first words we’d ever heard from her, or any of the other servants, for that matter. She offered to spoon honeyed tea into Alina’s mouth. We told her not to bother, since Alina would spit it out. And then we tried that ourselves, in the hopes that it might revive her.
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  It didn’t, and the servant left soon after, no doubt to report this turn of events to Captain Janlav.

  Eventually, when the day turned blue, the train’s speed decelerated. I felt tempted to run to the door and bang on it with my bare fists. Though we’ve stopped at numerous stations during the journey, we’ve never been let out. Celestia said early on that we shouldn’t let people know our identity. Mama’s empire is still infested with unrests, and many vehemently hate anyone with noble blood in their veins. There are people out there who are ready to harm us just for who we are, in ways that I don’t want to think about (though sometimes when I lie alone in my cabin, I do, and then I feel cold inside and can’t sleep for hours), even if we’ve played no part in what has so angered them. Curious as it is, as long as we remain in the train, we’re safe.

  But now Alina . . . my poor little sister was ill. She needed help, and that help wasn’t available in the train.

  The train halted in a small town, or it might have been a village—Elise peeked through the crack between the curtains to report this. We listened to the sounds of the train being fueled and watered. And then, after what felt like ages, rather than hearing the train rattle into motion, we heard the key turn in the lock of the cloakroom’s door. The servant entered without as much as a knock. Boy tramped in after her, without as much as a greeting. They strode through the carriage, to the door leading to our cabins, and out.

  “I wonder what that was about,” Merile muttered.

  I was too tired to even think about it.

  It didn’t take long for us to find out. The servant and Boy returned with the blankets that barely kept us warm during the nights. Captain Janlav entered the carriage almost at the exact same moment.

  “Wrap into the blankets,” Captain Janlav ordered. Then he marched to the sofa, where Alina still lay wrapped in Merile’s fur cloak. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Celestia hastened to tug the cloak better around our sister. He shrugged her aside. “Follow me. Say not a word. Run not a step.”