This, I can’t share with Sibilia. Irina and Olesia were fond of Millie. They wouldn’t approve of me using her. But I consider this as Millie’s chance to redeem herself in our father’s eyes.
“You mentioned ‘we.’” Sibilia squints her eyes, rubs her forehead. The spell is fading, and she senses it. She can have but a question or two left to ask before she has spent all that her soul can spare. “What’s the definition of ‘we’?”
Mother once said that each difficult decision will carve a hollow under my heart. I feel it now, the emptiness that tugs at my lowest ribs. Does my sister know? How could she? I never shared that part of my previous plan with anyone, and I don’t like being reminded of what I might have been willing to do. “All of us.”
Sibilia shakes her head. “No, I wasn’t sure earlier, but now I am. You’re holding back information. Tell me what it is.”
I can see from her widening pupils that she isn’t quite in control of the spell anymore. As she reaches toward me, to grab my shoulders, the compulsion hooks into the cogs and wheels of my mind. It is a feeling that…
After being subject to a harmful spell before, I should be repulsed. Afraid. But instead, I am proud of my sister and what she has achieved on her own. Proud enough that if it had been my choice, I might have told her the truth without the spell’s interference. But now, it isn’t my choice. “The previous plan.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Sibilia kisses my forehead, tears streaming down her cheeks. My mind was tampered with not so long ago, to coerce me into actions I wouldn’t otherwise have agreed to. In my sister’s eyes, she has hurt me in the worst possible way. “I didn’t mean to really use it. I… I can’t take it back.”
And I wish I could take back the words that I hear myself saying. “That day my seed came to our aid, I chose you to remain behind with me.”
Sibilia draws away from me. She stares at me, unable to comprehend what I am talking about. No, that isn’t it. Unwilling to comprehend.
“There was but one troika…” Out of control now, the spell seeks firmer hold of my mind. Images of the day my seed met his end flash past my eyes. The sun clinging to the zenith. The waiting horses tied to the wooden rail. It seemed like such an easy choice then. When I saw that my seed had brought but one troika with him, with the future of the empire at stake, I realized I could send only three of my sisters away to safety. At that instant, I had to decide who would stay behind and face the grim consequences with me. That role fell on Sibilia.
But now that I have slept next to Sibilia, now that I have heard of her hopes and dreams, I do regret ever making that choice that in the end didn’t matter. “I would have ordered him to leave with Elise, Merile, and Alina.”
“You were…” The hurt in my sister’s voice is primal. Though an empress should never be guided by her heart, my sister’s pain makes me regret what I thought back then—what I knew—as the best course of action. “You were going to leave me behind.”
I focus my mind on one word and one word only. It took my father’s help to break through Gagargi Prataslav’s compulsion. But my sister’s spell isn’t as intricate. What I need is a breach, one word through the spell. One simple word. “No.”
“You were going to leave me behind,” Sibilia repeats, blinking slowly as if she weren’t seeing properly anymore. She shakes her head, and her faith in me leaks out with the tears. I, her honored eldest sister… in her eyes, I am that no more, but a calculating empress-to-be. “You were…”
“Listen to me, Sibilia, it was the only possible choice.” And even with her spell cast aside, I hide nothing more from her. I don’t want my sister thinking I wanted the events to veer to that direction. “This empire needs a future, and weak and bleeding, I chose Elise before myself. And our little sisters, dear Alina and Merile, they rely on our protection. Tell me, how would you have chosen?”
But Sibilia doesn’t hear me anymore. She gropes for the book of scriptures, holds it against her chest, slumps against the pillows. “Abandon me…”
I rush to help her onto her back, though her accusing gaze stabs me like hunter’s knives. I have seen spells invoked many times before. When not powered by a soul bead, the gagargis draw from their own souls. My sister has come upon this knowledge on her own. This might be the very first spell she has ever invoked.
“It never came to pass,” I whisper as I tug the coverlet over her, to keep her warm. She shifts waveringly, yearns for me to leave her alone. But I sit down on the bed’s edge, next to her. “My sister, it is all right now.”
“Is it?” she mumbles, wounded by more than the secrets uncovered. Her spell has faded and left her weak. I hope it hasn’t harmed her soul permanently. “Celestia…”
I gently brush my sister’s wet cheeks, dab the tears away with my sleeve. Even though her body is that of an adult, deep inside she is still but a girl, prone to be afraid and confused. For a reason, though.
I lean to speak softly in her ear, though I know the hurt I have caused her may not ever mend. “We will go to the south together. All together or not at all.”
She grows too weary to say more. Her eyes keep open only barely, but the piercing gray sadness is unmistakable. As her breathing deepens, I hold her hand in mine. It is no longer plump, but delicate. She has changed. I haven’t, for I am already as I must be.
I sit by her side, until I am certain she will not stir to the sounds I might make. I glance at the mirror. I am not yet the Crescent Empress. I don’t see into the world beyond this one. My expression is unreadable as I get up and glide to the vanity desk.
Swiftly, I cover the mirror with my shawl. What the ghosts can’t see, they can’t tattle onward. I return to Sibilia, and I carefully pry the book of scriptures from her sleepy fingers.
I turn the pages and read the first unsteady line. It gives me no pleasure to break the trust that my sister has placed in me. But in this house, I can’t afford to let her keep secrets from me. If we want to survive, I must know everything.
I must know who has been talking with Irina and Olesia.
Chapter 6: Alina
Celestia knocks the paneled wall with her knuckles as she always does at the end of the dance practice. Rafa and Mufu trot to her, convinced this must mean treats for them, though I don’t think she’s ever given them any. She shakes her head at them, says to us, “My sisters, this suffices for today.”
“Good.” Olesia wipes her ghostly forehead. Her kind doesn’t sweat, but it’s as if she hasn’t realized this, and I don’t really want to remind her that she’s actually dead. “She failed to stay in rhythm once more.”
What a mean comment to make! I didn’t notice anything off with the rhythm, but I must admit, I wasn’t following the steps either. Maybe I missed a thing or two as I swirled round and round with Merile and her pretty companions.
“What did you expect?” Irina links arms with her sister and leads her toward the window. They can’t leave the house, but I’m quite sure they dream of doing so just like we do. “You can’t trust the eldest sister.”
Merile and I exchange looks. I keep many things secret from my sisters, but two I share with her. At some point, we might tell our sisters about both the ghosts and the witch. But not yet, I think.
“Shall we let in fresh air?” Celestia asks. Sibilia glares at her as if the question had somehow hurt her. When Celestia says nothing in reply, our sister stomps to the fireplace, unraveled red-gold locks swaying with her steps.