by A J Gala
Allanis put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ash. Are you sure it’s bad, though? What if this really is something to celebrate?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t. I wrote her back. We’re going to meet up in person so I can attempt to talk her out of this. I wanted to let you know I will be away for a while and that I have already appointed someone to fill in for me at the courthouse.”
“Very well. Are you taking Titha with you?”
“No. I can make this journey by myself. Besides, I know how important she has become around here. You need more staff, not less.”
Allanis nodded. “I’ll have Ravina shadow you up till a couple miles outside the walls to keep an eye on you. Stay safe, Ash.”
He left to prepare. When Allanis turned back to Adeska, she had already fallen back asleep.
Stormy’s whole body wiggled with the excitement of his tail as he followed Athen up the grand staircase and to Tizzy’s room.
Athen had been tasked with cleaning Tizzy’s room that morning to keep it from getting musty. Allanis was convinced that she could come back any day, but he knew it was just wishful thinking. He also disagreed that it should be his job to clean Tizzy’s room, but Allanis wouldn’t put the chore on anyone else. Stormy was eager to follow along. Athen had seen him carry things for Tizzy before from the firewood shed, but the mutt wouldn’t do it for him. He fumbled with rags, a cleaning bucket, a duster, and a broom the whole way.
“Why couldn’t she make Rori do it?” The broom slipped and caught in the nook of his elbow. “Does it really matter if her room is covered in dust? Make her clean it herself when she comes back!”
Stormy whined.
“What?” Athen opened the bedroom door and set the cleaning supplies just inside. “She’s the one who left. She’s why it’s getting all dusty in the first place.”
He ended his grumbling with a sigh. Putting his hands on his hips, he surveyed the room. It was still just as nice and untouched as it was the last time they’d cleaned it, but with the addition of dust. He reached for the broom, deciding it’d be the simplest thing to tackle, but then his reflection in the mirror on Tizzy’s desk caught his eye.
Tizzy hated people in her room, so he’d never really had a good look at his mother’s old mirror. He remembered the stories Adeska used to tell them about it, how it had been a gift from Father when she was pregnant with Aleth.
They were not affluent back then, but Mother Hallenar had come from a slightly well-off family and at times, missed the pretty, flashy little things she used to have. She wouldn’t ever say it because it was embarrassingly shallow of her, and she knew it, but their father was perceptive and had been overjoyed to bring her the mirror.
Athen grimaced. Tizzy had let the edges get so grimy.
“A family heirloom.” He shook his head and brought a rag to it. “Completely neglected, Stormy. Can you believe this?” He tried to buff some of it away but couldn’t. Rori would have to come back later with some concoction to get it out. He took his thumbnail to a spot on the mirror’s surface.
“And what the hell is this? How does this—”
He couldn’t finish his thought. A white-hot flash of light lit up his vision, and in the next second, he fainted. Stormy barked and jumped, but Athen was out cold.
He felt fuzzy, like he wasn’t touching anything at all, yet at the same time could feel the sensation of his own skin clinging to his body. He had never fainted before in his life. What happened?
Soon, he was in a room somewhere. It was a dream, he knew that for sure. The room was dark and wooden like a cabin. Dim blue light came in through a dirty window from a cloudy morning.
There was a crib. A simple wooden crib. Hesitantly, he approached and peered inside. A baby looked up at him, staring with bright red eyes. Soundlessly. The baby’s skin was snow white except for a red birthmark across the bridge of his nose like warpaint.
Delicate hands reached into the crib to hold the baby. Athen turned to look, and it was Tizzy cradling it. The baby’s little hand wrapped around her finger.
The moment he tried words, the scene faded, and he woke up. Stormy hovered over him with a wagging tail and licked his face. Athen gently shoved him aside and got to his feet.
“Thank the gods I didn’t just split my head open, Stormy. What the hell just happened?”
The dog whimpered.
“You’re absolutely right. Let’s get out of here. Tizzy’s room is fine.”
The day carried on, juggling Allanis through hour after hour without her ever realizing it. By the time her stomach was growling, darkness had enveloped Suradia in a cool casket of night. She didn’t think her hands had stopped shaking once since seeing Alor in the morning.
She’d met with Ravina, who gave her information about Rhett’s followers and a possible location for Mother Tryphaena. Part of her wanted to bring Rhett in right then, but she knew to trust the sight of an oracle, even if said oracle was only two-and-a-half.
She’d met with Titha about the security of House Hallenar. Apparently, the best thing about it was Stormy’s barking, and that was the problem.
She’d met with Gavin and Jurdeir about the cadets they wanted to train, and she had approved them all without even looking at them. For that, she felt guilty.
There were others who needed her ear or her counsel, but by that time, she couldn’t bear any more queenly duties and had hidden away in the infirmary. It was quiet but no longer felt like death. Adeska had risen for another brief conversation and had spoken a few understanding words of reassurance before falling back asleep.
Allanis was relieved her oldest sister was alive and recovering, but she was angry that Lazarus’s stunt had pulled it off. The more she thought about it, the more upset she was about countless other things.
From her study, with a second glass of wine in hand, she realized she was acting like Tizzy. Only ever with reasons to be mad and nothing else. Then she was upset that she would think of something so awful about her sister after how much she’d been through.
“What is wrong with me? Why am I wallowing?” She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. She thought about reaching out to Anavelia to congratulate her on the engagement or to mope and vent about the struggles of leadership, but then she remembered the woman’s vast council and court.
Anavelia wouldn’t have known a struggle if it had walked up to her and slapped her in the face. In fact, the only time Allanis knew her to have a struggle at all was when she dealt with Ashbel.
“No. Gods, what am I thinking?” She rubbed her face and leaned over her desk. “That’s ridiculous. Ana is my friend. She’s not like that.”
She took a sip of the wine, and there was a knock on her door. Every part of her wanted to tell them to go away, to leave her alone for the rest of the night, to pester Athen instead.
“Come in.”
When Phio entered, she couldn’t suppress a groan.
“Is that how you feel every time you see me now?”
She brought the glass back to her lips and gulped. “Can you blame me? I already know what you’re here about.”
“You should let him see her, Allanis.”
“Absolutely not!” Every bone in her body felt like it was shaking. “I don’t care what she says; I’m sure the last person she wants to see is the one who put her in that bed in the first place! You’re out of your damn mind, Phio.”
He expected it would go this way. Without much else to say, he nodded somberly and took a seat across from her.
“How’s the wine?”
She sniffled and drank. “Awful. When we were running low on supplies, we must have watered down this same bottle about three or four times.”
“I saw the boy.”
Allanis huffed and let her tears run. “Alor only ran off in the first place because he saw Centa stab his mother. I am perfectly content to blame that man for everything that happened and everything that boy has had to go through.”
“He’s seen som
ething like it before.”
The glass was trembling in her hand. “Centa has?”
“He said Taika had black veins like Alor’s on his shoulder.”
“What does that mean?”
Phio rubbed the back of his neck. “Taika was a wicked person, I told you as much. Centa always suspected there could’ve been something daemonic about him. He probably summoned one and let it feed from him in return for something—who knows? The bastard’s dead now.”
“So what does Centa think those veins are?”
He reached for the decanter on Allanis’s desk and topped off her glass. “Same as what Lazarus proposed. It’s probably the only thing those two will ever agree on. The Malauris made the kid sick. I hate to be the pessimist here, but I don’t think there’s a cure.”
“Then what?” She took another long drink. “Alor just stays sick forever?”
“Not necessarily. Taika wasn’t sick. Well, maybe he was in the head. But otherwise, he was healthy, so this could pass. He’ll just be left with the veins. Like a scar.”
She kept shaking her head in silence. Then a sob escaped. “That’s not what’ll happen; you know that! You pitch yourself as a pessimist for two seconds, then go right back to being helplessly hopeful! He’s sick from one of Rhett’s daemons, but he’s only a child. There has to be so much more to come—”
“Allanis.”
She quieted and wiped her tears. Phio stood and brought his foot up onto the chair and pulled the leg of his pants out from his boot to show her his calf. Black veins ran all the way up to his knee.
“A lot of awful things happened to us during the years we fought Karaius. I think I’m doing just fine.”
“I’ve never heard any of you say the Greater Daemon’s name before.”
“It’s hard,” he said, fixing his pant leg. “Most of us have no desire to ever relive that part of our lives. In some way, we were all left with our own permanent reminder of him.”
She held her glass with both hands. “Did you get sick?”
He considered telling her the truth for a moment but knew he couldn’t. Not this time. He gave her a faint smile. “Sicker than you can imagine.”
Her nerves came crashing down so fast she thought she might start crying all over again. Alor could be okay after all. He would just be left with the marks of a daemon.
“Phio, I’ll think about it, alright? About Centa. If nothing else, I’ll try to have Adeska down to see him when she’s able to. But I can’t think about this anymore. Please.”
“As you wish. Lora’s been looking for you. Do you want me to send her here?”
Allanis sighed. “Might as well. She’ll check here on her own soon, anyway. Tell her I’m fine, won’t you? I can stop this stupid crying before she gets here.”
“Good night, Allanis.”
When he left, he knew nothing had changed. He knew that no matter what happened, Allanis was bent on keeping Centa locked up. He went to sit by Adeska’s side for the remainder of the night.
The room was cool and dark and soundless. The fire in the hearth was dead save for a couple of glittering embers, smoldering life away. Earlier in the day, Tizzy had sat by it with Maran, talking about nothing as the woman entertained herself by weaving Tizzy’s hair into two intricate braids. But now, she looked them over in a hand mirror by the water pump, smiling at how frizzy and disheveled they’d become. She could only imagine how wild her hair would look the next morning when she shook her locks free. She set the mirror back in the basket and climbed into bed.
Aleth stirred as she made herself comfortable.
“Go back to sleep,” she whispered.
“But you’re talking,” he groaned back.
“I suppose I am.”
“Shh.”
She wrapped her arm around him and sank into his chest, but she couldn’t hear his heart, and he wasn’t warm to the touch. They were changing more with each passing day, and it felt more real now than ever. She’d been robbed of the small, sensual joys of being with him already.
She didn’t get to think about it much more before sleep consumed her. It was exciting to go without it and not feel fatigued the way she used to, but when she finally did succumb to it, the sleep was almost euphoric. She wondered where her Ethereal ability would take her. Lately she hadn’t gone anywhere important, hadn’t seen anyone or anything she thought she needed to. Once, she had walked the halls in a strange white palace, venturing up and down the unnerving marble corridors without ever being spotted. She also remembered being on the road in the Bogwood, watching a caravan of actors drive by in their wagons. She guessed they were headed to Saunterton.
Sleep carried her off into darkness for a while, uneventful and calm. And then she felt something brush against her. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t make anything out. There was a figure in front of her, up close. Too close.
She put her arms up, but they weren’t hers.
This wasn’t right. Where was she? It was a different room, somewhere flooded by stormy gray daylight. She tried to turn her head toward a window but couldn’t. Her arms kept pushing someone away.
No, not her arms. Aleth’s.
She shouldn’t be here. She needed to leave. This wasn’t right. Then, her view changed, and she was looking at him. She was coming closer to him. Aleth was pushing her away.
“Torah, stop!”
Look around the room, she thought. Where are you? Where are we? She didn’t obey but pulled Aleth in closer, much closer, and exposed his neck.
“Get off! Haven’t you had enough?”
Aleth bared his own fangs and shoved, but Torah didn’t move an inch. Tizzy had barely felt a thing from inside Torah’s body. She could hear something in the distance, ticking and ticking…
The Botathoran clock. They were at the Convent.
“What is it about your blood?” Torah asked, jabbing his finger into Aleth’s chest. “Why is your blood so satisfying? You should tell Louvita who you are.”
“Go find someone else.”
Torah’s lips turned into a smile. “What’s the matter? I must have upset you today because you don’t usually put up so much of a fuss.” As Torah, Tizzy could taste the sour remains of liquor in her mouth.
Aleth was shaking. She could feel his fear and anger, could smell it on him like an animal. He took a step away, but Torah lunged.
Suddenly her back was against the wall, and she was in Aleth’s body again, struggling to break free of Torah’s grasp.
“Until you can stop me, I’m going to take what I want. Those are the rules of our world. You know that well enough by now.”
His fangs ripped into Aleth’s neck, but Aleth never stopped fighting. Whenever he moved, she felt Torah’s fangs tear deeper, marring the flesh, but he wouldn’t stop.
“You can’t win. You have to know when to give up.”
He pulled away from Aleth only to wrestle him to the ground.
“Torah, stop!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”
Her chest hurt—Aleth’s chest—as he fought back tears. Torah pinned his wrists to the ground. She was sick.
Wake up. She had to wake up. Please don’t watch this, she begged herself. She felt her own tears as she shut her eyes, and the scene was finally pried away from her before she could find out how it ended. When she woke, the room was spinning. Bile rose up her throat. She was gutted.
“Gods.” White-hot pain lit up in her forehead. “Aleth—”
“Get away from me!”
His words were venomous. She touched around the bed for him, but he wasn’t there. The throbbing in her skull was paralyzing.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t—”
“Why can’t everyone stay the fuck out of my head?”
“I didn’t mean to do it!” She quivered as the last moments she’d witnessed of the memory haunted her. “I promise, it was an accident!”
She rolled onto her stomach and tried to prop herself up, but the nause
a was hungry for her. Every inch she crept, the more the malaise seeped into her. He had to have pushed her out. She’d never once been strong enough to wake up from wherever her mind took her, not until it had run its course. But she’d been pushed out before she had seen the ending.
And he had been there, with her, the whole time.
She’d forced the memory on him.
Then, she smelled sweet smoke. She scooted to the edge of the bed and saw a thin wisp hovering in the air by the hearth where Aleth had fled. She pushed the pain and bile down and crawled to him.
“P-please look at me.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and he shrugged her off. “Aleth, I’m sorry.”
“Say it all you want.” He kept his back to her.
She couldn’t tell what the smoke was from until she heard him inhale long and deep. He let it out too fast and coughed. His hands were shaking, and she reached for him again, resting her fingers on his shoulder like it might shatter with her very touch. His skin was tacky with sweat.
“Is that—” her voice was stuck in her throat, “—is that letalis?”
“Saving it for bullshit like this.”
“But it’ll kill you!”
“Would that it could, Tizzy. Would that it could.”
She saw the goosebumps on him as he took another drag from the tiny rolled leaf. What had she done? His words sank into her deep and sat there, rotting away a place she couldn’t reach.
“What are you saying?” She replayed them over again in her mind as her fingers found a jagged line of flesh and traced it down across his spine. “Wait. Aleth, how many of these were on purpose?”
He didn’t answer.
“You told me you fell twice off the cavern walkway at the Convent. Was that true?”
“I fell the first time.” He stared at the floor where the ashes had fallen and took another drag. “I didn’t the second time.”
She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could. “You tried to—”
“I can’t die. No matter what I do.”
Neither of them knew what to say next, and the silence took over. Tizzy didn’t want to believe any of it, but she could. There was suddenly a whole new meaning to every little thing he had ever said to her.