We Are Bound by Stars

by Kesia Lupo

  ‘Lord?’ Hal whispers slightly. A question. An invitation. He leans forward, presses his lips to mine.

  For a second, it’s simply good – comforting and gentle and a blessed relief from thinking. But the next second, Elisao is flashing through my memory again – the kiss we shared on the steps of the library, how my heart leaped, how right it had felt. This … doesn’t feel that way. I pull away, leaving Hal leaning forward, lips slightly parted, a frown denting his brow. I swallow.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. ‘It’s not y—’

  ‘Don’t say it,’ Hal cuts in, his tone light. ‘Worst cliché ever. It’s all right, Lord. Shouldn’t have done it. I have to say, though, I’m not used to being turned down.’ Of course he isn’t. He’s ridiculously handsome. He grins his usual, easy grin – but am I imagining the hurt in his eyes? The … anger?

  Of course he’s angry. I definitely invited that kiss. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mutter again, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘I don’t know why … I just …’ I’m blathering now. I breathe deeply – start again. ‘I—’

  ‘I’d better go, Lord,’ Hal interrupts, standing up – clearly losing patience. ‘Good work today … on the magic.’ And he walks away across the rooftop, leaving me standing there, feeling like the biggest fool in Scarossa.

  FOURTEEN:

  The Reckoning

  Beatrice

  The docks stretch along the northern side of the island, in the sheltered waters facing the mainland. But, somehow, we’ve found our way to the south, where steps lead down to a series of stony beaches.

  The Contessa’s celebrations are city-wide, and here the effect of the fire appears to be muted. Stalls still line the beach, selling delicacies like crispy squid, roasted nuts and bags of sweets, and the people walking around seem calm and unhurried. I reach into my pockets expecting nothing, but I find an old silver coin and buy us each a cone of sugared almonds, my hands shaking as I take the bags from the vendor.

  Ofelia and I pick our way right down to the shore, until we can’t walk any further, then we sit down on a pair of sea-worn rocks and eat our hot almonds in silence. I can see the lights on Silver, our nearest neighbouring island, where the minor noble families of the Wishes tend their estates. The next islands beyond that are the Twins, connected by a slim tidal isthmus and home to bustling fishing towns and charming villages. There’s tiny Cantella beyond, then the three tiny isles of the Coins – they’re largely uninhabited, except for a few small houses that the nobility use for holidays in the summer.

  And then, there’s just the sea, for miles and miles and miles. I shut my eyes, listening to the water as if I can hear that distance, as if I can be that distance. Then, I hear Ofelia sigh – the sound draws me right back to earth.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say quietly. ‘You’d been looking forward to that. Now it’s ruined.’

  Ofelia shrugs. ‘I know what happens next. Do you remember?’

  ‘Ruggio is trapped in the tower, isn’t he?’ I say.

  ‘That’s right. Alana’s gravely injured him so he’s weakened, unable to escape. Then there’s a big battle between Alana and Bradamante. Of course, Bradamante wins, though Alana survives, slinking off in exile.’

  ‘Bradamante finds Ruggio, then,’ I supply, enjoying how strong her voice grows as she tells the story.

  ‘That’s right. He’s helpless and confused – he doesn’t know his own name, or how he came to be in the tower. Bradamante assumes he’s Alana’s enemy. Gradually, Ruggio falls in love with her, and she with him – but when their relationship is consummated at last, his memory returns … and so does Alana, who inadvertently reveals the truth.’ Ofelia scrunches her empty paper cone into a small, tight ball. ‘Bradamante can’t let him live after that. She kills him, breaking Alana’s spirit – and her will to fight. Bradamante claims the kingdom and is crowned queen.’

  ‘What a cheerful tale,’ I remark with a wry smile.

  Ofelia doesn’t smile back, gazing out at the star-tipped waves. ‘The thing is, if Alana had just let Ruggio and Bradamante meet on the battlefield, they’d never have fallen in love.’ She glances up at the moon. ‘In trying to beat Fortune, Alana only made her prediction come true.’

  I laugh thinly: the story of characters trapped by their destinies feels a little close to home. We stare out at the sea, momentarily silent.

  ‘What happened back there?’ Ofelia asks softly. ‘It was … It was you, wasn’t it?’

  I glance over at her, my heart beating hard in my ears. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask. She can’t know – can she? Even I don’t really know that I did it …

  ‘You think I don’t notice things. You and Valentina must think I’m stupid or something. But I’ve thought about how you passed out during the Inheritance. How you fought off the assassin. I noticed yesterday, in the antechamber, when a spark flew from your fingers. And I was watching you in the marquee. Whatever it is, it always happens around magic.’

  My voice is high and fast as I reply. ‘Ofelia, the stage must’ve been thirty feet away. It can’t have been—’

  ‘But it was you, wasn’t it? It was some kind of magic.’

  ‘I honestly don’t know.’ I pause. ‘Yes, I think so,’ I add softly.

  ‘What does that mean?’ After a short pause, she answers her own question. ‘You’re a mage, aren’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I whisper. ‘I can’t be.’

  She’s frowning. ‘Mascherari aren’t mages – they just aren’t. Besides, we’re triplets – one soul split three ways. If you have magic, Valentina and I should too.’ She gazes down at her hands, circling the scrunched-up almond cone, and I can’t tell if it’s confusion or disappointment in her eyes. ‘We have the power of Mythris in our blood – but it’s only for mask-making. We shouldn’t be able to do anything else.’

  I take a deep breath. ‘I know. I wasn’t sure, truly – I’m still not. The first time … it was when the assassin came. Something happened – I hurt him – but I wasn’t sure how. But now … Now I think maybe you’re right. Magic is the only answer. But it still doesn’t make sense. I just keep getting this feeling … rising up inside me …’

  Then I’m silent for a long time, we both are, just breathing in the warm air of the night. I don’t understand what I did, or how I did it, or any of this. Suddenly it all rushes back to me, the heat, the screams, the hurry to escape, the way the puppets dropped to the stage in flames. I wipe two stray tears from my cheeks.

  ‘We’ll figure this out,’ Ofelia says, taking my hand suddenly. ‘Whatever happens, you’re not alone.’

  Warmth rushes through me, and I squeeze her hand. ‘Thank you.’

  She glances over her shoulder. ‘I can’t see the fire any more. Perhaps it’s safe to head back. Unless …’ She gazes out at the sea. ‘If we strip off our dresses, we could probably swim to Silver. And from there, perhaps we could find a ship. We’ll probably never have another chance,’ she whispers very quickly, under her breath.

  My heart could break. ‘I want to. But … Valentina,’ I say softly. We look at each other, and we both know we can’t do this to her.

  ‘Valentina,’ she echoes.

  With that, we turn away from the sea, the pebbled beach crunching under our heeled shoes as we pick our way back into the city.

  After collecting our cloaks and veils from the alley, we traipse up the stairs of the mascherari house, our hearts as heavy as our feet. The guards were so relieved to see us alive that they barely questioned our story of crowds and confusion, but it’s clear that our brief dance with freedom is now over. Security around the house is tighter than ever.

  If I am going to get through this, I will need both my sisters at my side.

  I knock softly on Valentina’s door, Ofelia hesitating a step behind me – but Valentina’s voice comes from the door opposite, from the nursery.

  ‘In here.’ Her tone is flat and angry.

  My stomach plummets. I alread
y know that we have been discovered. Ofelia nods slightly as we meet eyes.

  Valentina is sitting on Nurse’s bed, her hands neatly folded in her lap, a small lamp burning on the bedside table. The chest is open on the floor in front of her. Our black dresses are laid out on the bed opposite, our sensible black shoes arranged beneath them. The other contents remain neatly folded in the chest itself.

  I feel as if I’ve been plunged into cold water.

  ‘What exactly did you think you were doing?’ Valentina says, her lips pursed tight. She stands up abruptly and goes to Ofelia, pulling the tie of her cloak and revealing the green dress beneath. She does the same to me. Both of us just stand there. I feel naked, tingling with shame. The sweat on my skin feels icy, and my ears are ringing.

  I start to explain, opening my mouth before I know what I’m going to say. ‘We—’

  ‘Don’t you dare try to justify what you have done,’ she says, her voice calm and firm. ‘Don’t you dare.’

  I glance at Ofelia, but she’s just staring at her velvet slippers, her bottom lip trembling.

  ‘Valentina, we’re sorry,’ I venture softly. ‘But it was just one night.’

  ‘One night? You have broken every rule, cast aside everything our order stands for, and shown a total disregard for the people we are supposed to help protect. How would they feel knowing they had looked upon you both, the mascherari sisters? How many would think themselves tainted?’

  I shake my head. ‘But it’s not true,’ I manage. ‘It’s just superstition.’

  ‘It’s what they believe, and we must respect that. These are the people we serve, Beatrice – you know that. I was praying when the Contessa’s guards came here late last night – they’d been looking for you for hours – and then I heard about the fire … I was so worried …’ Her voice breaks, but she pulls herself together quickly, as if she’s slamming shut a door on her emotions. ‘But I thought I’d heard you in here before you left, so I checked. That’s when I saw how Nurse’s bed was dishevelled, and I discovered the chest underneath.’

  I think of her in our empty house, worrying about us, following our trail in the dust … and I feel ashamed at how we left her here. Deep down, does she wish she could’ve joined us? Can she really be satisfied with her piety, or does she too wish for freedom and beautiful things? If so, why can’t she just admit it? Why does she put on a face in front of us, her only family, as much as she does for everyone else? She is my sister, a mirror of myself, and yet sometimes I feel I don’t know her at all.

  Her face hardens – perhaps she senses my pity. ‘What do you think the Contessa will do if she finds out what you’ve done?’ Valentina continues. ‘We have plenty to lose. A comfortable house. Lots of food. Luxuries, even. I almost expect it of Ofelia,’ she says, glancing at her coldly. ‘But you, Beatrice? I always thought you were smarter. Instead, we’ll all be punished for your stupidity.’

  Finally, my temper rises and I lift my chin, forcing my voice to remain calm. ‘Valentina, there is no need for the Contessa to know. The Nurse’s clothes are well hidden here. No one recognised us. As far as the guards are concerned, we simply got separated in the crowds. We’re not stupid.’

  ‘And what if I tell the Contessa, Beatrice? What then? Would you still feel quite so clever?’ Her eyes are full of tears, and her voice loses a little of its steadiness. She picks up the chest, which looks too heavy for her, even though it’s nearly empty, and sits awkwardly against her torso. ‘It’s not right that you shouldn’t suffer any consequences for your actions. I’ll bring this to her and show her what you’ve done.’

  ‘Don’t you dare take that chest,’ Ofelia says, at last raising her head. Her eyes are glowing, her body shaking with indignant rage. ‘That’s mine! I found it!’

  Valentina ignores her and moves for the door, but Ofelia blocks her path, grabbing the other side of the chest.

  ‘Let go,’ said Valentina, her voice cold and calm once again.

  ‘No, you let go!’ Ofelia hisses. We’re all aware that if we shout, Anna-Maria will come running. ‘You think I’m stupid – fine. It was one night. You’re just jealous because your stubbornness stopped you from coming with us.’ She pulls the chest towards her, but Valentina’s grip is too strong. ‘Give it to me!’

  ‘What possible use could you have for a chest full of clothes, anyway?’ Valentina says through clenched teeth. ‘You both look like common whores.’

  ‘I wish I were,’ I say quietly. ‘At least then I’d be free. At least then I could walk the streets in sunlight and dance at night, and feel love, and hope, and dream that one day my life might be different.’

  Neither of my sisters reacts to my words, they’re so focused on each other. ‘You are bitter and cruel and shrivelled up inside,’ Ofelia says, eyes fixed on Valentina. Tears are streaming down her face as she pulls the chest towards her with more force – but she and Valentina are evenly matched. The lamp casts their long grey shadows across the floorboards. If they’re not careful, they’re going to hurt themselves.

  ‘Stop this,’ I urge, stepping forward, but they ignore me.

  Valentina sneers at Ofelia. ‘You’ve always been an ungrateful fool. Do you know how many people would kill to live the life we live, to enjoy our fate, to have the masked god’s power in their veins?’ Her voice is rising with emotion for the first time – Ofelia’s words have touched a nerve. ‘Our mother was a fishwife, Ofelia. Where do you think we would be now if the Contessa hadn’t lifted us from poverty and granted us a god for our father?’

  They pull the chest between them, and I hear a faint creaking, cracking sound. In spite of their efforts, anger amplifies their voices – I’m afraid the guards outside, or Anna-Maria downstairs, will hear and come running, and they’ll burst in and see us standing here in our bright dresses.

  I step yet closer. ‘Valentina, Ofelia, don’t shout. Please don’t,’ I try. But they’re focused on their battle, their eyes locked, and I feel completely alone, completely separate from them both. It’s like I’m not even here.

  ‘I’m not saying we shouldn’t be grateful!’ Ofelia is saying. Her voice is choked with emotion – her rage shifting again to tears of frustration. ‘I am grateful. But I’m asking you to let me have this, Valentina. Just this one thing. Please.’

  ‘Valentina, Ofelia, please …’ But they’re not listening to me.

  ‘No. You’re acting like a spoilt brat. You need to learn to face the consequences of your actions. Now – let go!’

  Both of them tug hard – that sound again, the old chest buckling. Suddenly there’s a loud crack – the ancient, poor-quality wood surrenders at last, breaking in two. A jumble of the remaining clothes and costume jewellery falls out, clattering on to the floorboards with the now-scentless sprigs of dried lavender, the colour of dust.

  ‘You’ve ruined it!’ Ofelia shrieks, casting aside her useless portion of the chest. She steps forward and clutches Valentina so hard around the shoulders, I can see her knuckles whiten. ‘Why did you have to do that? Why couldn’t you let me have it?’

  Ofelia’s tear-stained face is distraught. Valentina is gritting her jaw.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ I say softly, feeling close to tears.

  A voice from downstairs. ‘Mistresses? Is everything all right? I heard shouting.’

  I reply quickly, willing her not to climb the stairs. ‘Fine! Sorry, Anna-Maria. I dropped … I dropped a pile of Valentina’s books.’

  A pause. ‘Very well.’

  The silence that follows is the deepest and coldest I’ve ever felt. Valentina sits on the floor, holding the pale dress in her lap – the dress she could have worn. Ofelia is slumped against the wall, sobbing quietly into her sleeve. I’m the only one left standing.

  ‘I just wanted one night, every now and then,’ Ofelia says again quietly. She glances at me, red-eyed. ‘She wanted to run away forever.’ Despite her words, her voice is completely unaccusatory – as if she’s simply stating fa
ct.

  ‘Is that true?’ Valentina sounds weary now. As if she can’t summon enough energy to be angry at me too.

  I don’t reply. Instead, I start to pick up the broken pieces of the chest, tidying them into the space beneath Nurse’s bed.

  ‘Well, Beatrice?’ she persists.

  I sigh, stopping and sitting on Nurse’s mattress. ‘Yes, it’s true. But … don’t you feel the same sometimes?’ There’s an edge of desperation to my voice. ‘Don’t you ever sit there at your work and wonder what else you could be doing if the Contessa hadn’t taken us? The people you could have known? The things you could have seen?’

  ‘This is our destiny. This is what we’re meant to do,’ Valentina whispers, like a prayer.

  ‘Who decided that? Because it surely wasn’t us.’ I feel a sudden jolt of determination. ‘Why don’t we do it? Why don’t we just go?’ I raise my eyes. ‘Right now. There are three dresses here. Everyone is distracted by the fire. We could …’

  But Ofelia stands and heads for the door. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she says without looking back. ‘I’m too tired to do this any more.’

  Valentina stands up to join her. ‘I’m going too. And truly, Beatrice, I don’t feel trapped. I feel lucky to be living this life, with my sisters beside me, creating beautiful and useful things. I can accept our lack of freedom as a price for this life of comfort and purpose.’ The way she says it, I actually believe her – and for some reason, that makes me angry. ‘I’m truly sorry you don’t feel that way too,’ she says piously.

  ‘Don’t be so godsdamned superior,’ I hiss at her. ‘Do you feel like that as well?’ I say to Ofelia. ‘I know you don’t. When we were out on the beach, it seemed like you were ready to go, if only Valentina had been with us.’

  She turns to me. ‘I won’t deny that it scares me, what we have to face. And I won’t deny that running away has crossed my mind too, more than once – and that I wish for another life, sometimes … But’ – she shakes her head – ‘I would never really do anything. I would never leave. I just … I guess I just want to find a balance to this life. Is that so bad?’ She meets Valentina’s eyes.