Midnite's Daughter (Midnight Girl Book 1)

by R Gualtieri

  It had been a particularly dull session, focusing on the politics of various interdimensional species – comparing and contrasting them – but that had been perfect. At one point, Kisaki had pretended to nod off, something very believable considering the topic. When Shitoro had walked over to wake her, she’d toppled over, forcing him to catch her.

  In the fumbling that ensued, she managed to grab the key unnoticed.

  Even more fortuitous had been when he, in a snit at her inattentiveness, declared she should take a short break so as to compose herself – after which they would dive back in for several more hours. Pity for him, he would return to an empty lecture hall.

  In order to have a chance at exploration, however, she needed to be decisive, which was precisely what she was having a difficult time with at the moment.

  Despite yearning to know what lay past the doors leading to her mother’s audience chamber, she found herself hesitant. After all this time, she was holding the means to explore a place she’d only glimpsed. But it was what lay beyond that paused her steps – the rest of the palace she called home. To venture further was forbidden, almost unthinkable, not to mention certain to incite her mother’s wrath.

  What would she find there? More servants, more finery? Perhaps someone else like her?

  That was the thought that finally got her moving again.

  It wasn’t so much meeting others as much as the thought of making a new friend. Sure, Shitoro could be considered that, but he was also her guardian, not to mention her school master. To meet someone new and just talk with them without minding her tongue; it was a concept she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But she realized she was willing to try.

  The impasse broken, she unlocked the heavy bars standing in her way, pushed them to the side, and, with a deep breath, opened the door beyond.

  She’d caught fleeting glimpses of her mother’s audience chamber before, barely enough to leave her with half-formed images for her mind to fill in. Now she was able to drink in what she saw to her heart’s content.

  The multi-hued chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, the smooth stone of the walls – polished to an almost mirror-like sheen – and the thick red carpet on the floor. All of it was magnificent. Near the back stood the ebony throne from which her mother entertained visitors – or so she’d been told. She’d never actually seen it happen. So dark was the material from which it had been carved that it was as if a chair-shaped hole had been cut into the very air, leaving behind nothing but a void.

  It was what hung in midair above the throne, though, that really caught her eye.

  The weapon glimmered with a light seemingly all its own, tiny pinpricks of brilliance shining from a blade that seemed to be made of some type of smoky glass that – despite the richness of the rooms she lived in – she’d never seen before.

  Remembering her limited time, she tore her gaze from the sword and shut the door behind her. She had no way of reengaging the complex locks from this side, but hopefully, the sight of it shut would afford her a few extra moments.

  Kisaki knew she should be testing the key upon the door at the far end of the chamber, the one that led to areas unknown. Yet, instead of heading that way, she found herself turning back to the sword that hung above her mother’s throne.

  She stood staring at it for several long seconds, almost mesmerized by the multiple lights glinting from the blade.

  It was strange, hard to explain, but somehow it seemed as if the sword was calling to her. It made no sense. After all, she knew what it was, having seen depictions of many such weapons in her studies, albeit never one quite like this. Regardless, Kisaki had never actually handled anything like it. The sharpest thing she’d ever touched had been the quills with which she’d written out her endless lessons, having worn out many over the years.

  That had to be it. The sword was something new, something she’d never experienced firsthand. That was why she found herself still staring at it, long after logic dictated she should continue with her exploration.

  The pinpricks of light on the fragile-looking blade appeared to grow brighter as her eyes continued to focus on it, until it seemed as if they might be miniature stars somehow trapped in the strange glasslike material from which it was forged.

  That was silly, though. Even sillier was the concept of a glass sword. Such a thing would be useless in combat, a mere decoration – which was what it seemed to be.

  Yet she couldn’t help the yearning to hold it.

  Kisaki let out a deep sigh, her mind made up. She was already in trouble for her transgressions, that much she knew. What would one more matter? Besides, it’s not like Shitoro couldn’t just hang it up again once she’d been caught and sent back to her room.

  That spurred her to action, and she crossed the room to her mother’s throne. The material of the chair was truly dark, seeming to drink in the light around it, and for one quick moment, Kisaki was certain that she’d fall into it.

  But then her foot touched the seat and found it to be solid. Laughing at her own foolishness, she stood upon it and lifted herself up. The sword was still out of her reach, so she was forced to climb upon the heavy arm rests and then finally the back, balancing herself precariously as she reached for the weapon.

  Despite it looking like nothing more than a fragile decoration, she strove to be careful. Something deep inside warned her to steer clear of the edge of the blade. It did appear sharp and glass, fragile or not, could slice skin just as easily as steel.

  She stood on her tiptoes upon the back of the throne and reached up. Inch by inch she stretched, trying to reach the grip of the weapon, a brilliant white material – almost porcelain in appearance – in contrast to the blade itself.

  Almost...

  There! She grabbed hold and smiled triumphantly, right before a shock of energy jolted down her arm. It was as if she’d grabbed hold of something burning hot. For a moment, she was glued to her spot, unable to let go. Then, just as abruptly, she pulled back, freeing the weapon from the invisible bonds that held it aloft.

  The movement caused her to lose her balance. She teetered atop the back of the chair for a moment, pinwheeling her arms before she overbalanced, losing her grip on the sword in the process.

  Kisaki fell, landing upon her backside on the rich carpet in front of the throne.

  She winced, both from the impact as well as the embarrassment of having fallen, then looked up. Her eyes widened as she beheld the sword, sticking out of the seat of her mother’s chair where it had landed point down, sinking itself deep into the ebony material.

  Yet one more crime to add to her growing list of infractions this day.

  Shitoro was going to be mad, but her mother would be furious.

  Kisaki pulled herself to her feet and brushed herself off, despite the room being so immaculate that one would have thought dust was outlawed.

  What’s done is done.

  She’d gone too far to explain this as a simple accident. At the same time, she hadn’t gone far at all. If she were to be caught now, her punishment was likely to be harsh. And for what? All she’d managed to do was open one door, knock over a sword, and cut a gouge in her mother’s chair. If she was going to be given a tongue-lashing, followed by confinement in her room until the stars burned out, she might as well earn it.

  Yes, she’d tarried long enough. It was time to see what lay beyond this place. That was, assuming her stolen key could unlock the door beyond. There was only one way to find out.

  She turned toward it, took a single step, then hesitated again.

  Grr! What is it with that stupid thing anyway?

  Kisaki spun back and, without knowing why, she stepped up and grabbed the sword by the hilt again. That same fire she’d felt before seemed to radiate from the blade for a scant moment, but then it was gone, leaving the weapon cool to the touch. Odd. Perhaps she’d imagined it, a side effect of her nervous state of mind.

  Yes, that had
to be it.

  She lifted the blade easily, sliding it out with little effort from the groove it had cut. Despite its size, it was ridiculously light in her hand. No more than a fragile decoration. It would be foolish to take it with her. One good bump would surely shatter it into a thousand pieces.

  Yet, still she found herself mesmerized by the weapon. She glanced at the point, then again at the cut in her mother’s throne.

  Hmm, she thought, maybe sharper than those silly quills after all, but a bit less inconspicuous, too.

  Before she could turn back to the door, the sword began to glow in her hands. It was as if the miniature stars shining inside the blade had decided to go supernova, filling the weapon with a brilliant white light.

  Kisaki cried out in surprise before closing her eyes against the glare of the weapon, almost blinding in its intensity.

  What now?!

  She expected to feel that burning sensation in her hands again, for surely the weapon would soon become too hot to hold, but it remained cool in her grasp.

  Cool and ... smaller?

  Though she couldn’t look directly at the sword, she could have sworn she felt the grip of the weapon shrinking, becoming much more familiar, more like a...

  All at once, the glow abated. Kisaki blinked several times to clear the spots from her eyes. Then she blinked again at what she saw in her hands.

  Impossible! The sword was gone and in its place was a simple quill, like those she wrote her lessons with.

  Upon closer inspection, though, she realized it was different after all. It was far finer in appearance than those she normally used, and the white of the feather turned to a deep black near the top. She stared at it, realizing she could see tiny lights twinkling in that blackness.

  Somehow the sword had turned into this. No, that wasn’t right. Somehow the weapon had read her thoughts and acted upon them.

  She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. It was a good thing she hadn’t been thinking of dragons or the six-legged war gryphons she’d been reading about a few days prior. That decided it for her and she began to giggle.

  Still, strange or not, she had to admit carrying around a quill was liable to be slightly more convenient than a sword. She stuffed it into a pocket inside her kimono, then took a deep breath and turned to the outer doors.

  If there were so many new and strange things to experience in her mother’s antechamber alone, then what did that bode for beyond?

  Kisaki wasn’t sure, but it was time she found out.

  7

  Hallways, hallways, and more hallways.

  Kisaki had been expecting the wonders of the universe to lay beyond her mother’s chambers – enough so that a single step would have fueled her imagination for years to come.

  The seemingly endless maze of corridors she found herself in wasn’t exactly boring, but it was certainly a bit anticlimactic following her interactions with the quill-sword.

  After a while, she began to suspect that would be the only memento of her trip. Yes, the passageways were quite opulent, lined with beautiful fineries such as vases, chalices, and suits of armor. There were massive, finely-detailed statues at some intersections, depicting beings she didn’t recognize but suspected to be some of the great heroes she’d read about in her lessons.

  Nevertheless, exquisite as everything was, it was nothing out of the ordinary compared to what she’d seen in her own chambers. If this was all that lay beyond her mother’s abode, then she had surely risked a great deal of punishment for very little gain.

  Soon, she began to consider returning. If she was back home when her transgressions were discovered, she could potentially minimize the damage, claim that she’d only visited her mother’s chambers. But she quickly dismissed those thoughts. To return now would be cowardly, especially after all this time planning and dreaming of visiting the outside.

  Besides, she realized with a laugh, she was no longer certain she could find her way back if she wanted to. This place was truly vast and, in her haste to explore, she’d turned down several corridors with abandon, never bothering to note the way she’d come.

  She had little choice but to continue forward.

  Now to only hope she found something interesting before Shitoro found her.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Kisaki let out a whoop of joy. She couldn’t help it. The little youkai standing at the far end of the corridor and staring back at her had been the first sign of life she’d encountered since leaving. Best yet, it was someone she’d never seen before.

  Movement had registered in her periphery upon turning the last corner. At first, she’d thought it was a trick of the light, for it seemed that she was staring at nothing more than a shadow.

  But then it had turned toward her, its glowing blue eyes staring widely over a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth. It was some kind of animal demon, a ferret perhaps, and the darkness she’d mistaken for a shadow was some kind of miasma, perhaps meant to conceal it. It certainly couldn’t have been an offensive weapon, for the creature inside the shadow was even smaller than Shitoro.

  “Hello,” she said, bending down so as to be closer to its level. “I’m Kisaki.”

  The youkai cocked its head to the side but said nothing.

  “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” She took a step forward, then realized she was being foolish. The youkai gave no indication he was afraid of her. Also, it was quite likely older and wiser than she, thus there was no reason for her to be talking to it like a child. Yet, it was so cute, despite the miasma, that she couldn’t help herself.

  The youkai muttered something, although she wasn’t certain if it was to her or not.

  “Do you live here, too?” Kisaki asked, continuing to approach. How wonderful would it be if she could make a new friend. Even if nothing else came of her journey, it would be marvelous to know there was someone beyond her mother’s doors that was thinking about her ... who could potentially visit her and relay stories of what lay in other parts of the palace.

  “I live in...” She paused as she realized she had no idea what directions to give. Instead, she simply hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I live back that way somewhere.”

  Again the ferret demon opened its mouth, this time seeming to ask a question. Kisaki was close enough to hear it utter a single word. “Who?”

  “Like I said, my name is Kisaki. I live with my mother. Maybe you know her. Her name is Lady Midnite. There’s also Shitoro and...”

  “Midnite?” it chirped in response.

  “Yes. You know her?” Excitement started to build in Kisaki. If this creature knew her mother, then that made it all the more likely it could maybe pay her a visit from time to time.

  “Mother?” the ferret asked.

  “Yes. She’s my mother.”

  The ferret demon lifted its head, the miasma dispersing around it. Kisaki’s heart soared as it took a sniff of the air, then abruptly crashed back down as the creature bared its teeth in a snarl and backed up a step.

  “Wait, did I say something wrong?”

  “Hanyou,” it snarled.

  “What...?” But Kisaki was too late. The ferret youkai hissed at her, then turned and took off running down the hall. “Come back! I didn’t mean ... whatever I did.”

  Kisaki chased after the ferret, but it was quick and apparently knew these halls much better than she. Several minutes and many more corridors later, she realized she’d lost it.

  With a heavy heart, she stopped and wondered what she’d done wrong. The little demon hadn’t seemed overly friendly at any point during their brief interlude, but he’d only turned hostile at the mention of Kisaki’s mother.

  Was it possible the little youkai was less than a friend to her mother? But why would an enemy share the same palace? Surely that made no sense.

  But then, neither did a sword that turned into a feather quill.

  The truth was, Kisaki was in uncharted waters. That she exp
ected anything to make sense, based on her sheltered existence alone, was the height of naivety. Assuming she knew anything about this place or its inhabitants was foolish, something likely to only result in disappointment or worse.

  She resolved herself to stop assuming and to start listening. If only Shitoro was here, he’d surely appreciate the irony that she’d finally accepted it was time to study and learn.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “What is this place?” she asked herself.

  Whatever it was, it more than made up for the endless corridors she’d walked down, doubled back on, and gotten hopelessly lost in.

  This was more like what she’d hoped to find, something new amid all the sameness.

  The octagonal room was large, bigger than her mother’s audience chamber, with expanding circles of polished metal inlaid into the floor. They started in the middle and grew larger as they moved further away from it.

  The floor was certainly interesting, but it was the walls that caught her attention or, more specifically, what was in them. Multiple recessed shelves ran the length of each wall at varying heights. These shelves were filled with crystals of different hues, spaced a few inches apart, encircling the entire room.

  Each seemed to shimmer with its own power, illuminating the room with myriad colors that seemed to be ever-changing as they danced on the walls and reflected off the circles in the floor. It was the most beautiful thing Kisaki had ever seen.

  Despite her earlier despair at the botched attempt at befriending the ferret demon, Kisaki found herself glad this room was currently unoccupied. Something about this place made her want her first experience within it to be all her own.

  She gingerly stepped inside, laughing as the lights danced against her skin.

  Within moments, she found herself in the center of the room, standing within the smallest of the circles. It seemed as if the power of this chamber were converging upon her. She held her hands out to her sides and began to slowly turn in place, drinking it all in, marveling at what she’d found.

  She would need to ask her mother about this room. What purpose it served. What the crystals were made of.