“No one. I’m talking to no one. No, I’m thinking aloud. That’s it. I’m thinking aloud.”
Sibilia pats Merile on top of her head, sending her curly black hair bouncing. But she stares past her into the mirror. No, somehow beyond, as if… My sister is powerful in a way very familiar, but which I don’t really understand. And yet, her shadow is fraying around the tiny pinprick holes scattered across its length.
“Irina, Olesia, reveal yourself to me. I know you are here.” Sibilia pauses. Her lips press together as if she were thinking hard. “Or there, if that’s what you prefer.”
I bite my fist then, though it hurts quite a lot. Guilt isn’t a nice thing to feel. And neither is it nice to be caught red-handed in… not lying, but holding back things from my sisters. How did Sibilia find out about the ghosts?
Irina merely sighs. “Well, this was bound to happen eventually. What do you think, Olesia, should we? She is not the oldest, after all.”
My heart pounds heavy as I wait for Olesia to make up her mind. I understand that the order of birth is very important for Daughters of the Moon, but Irina and Olesia keep on bringing it up even when it doesn’t matter. It’s over a month since the last sacred ceremony and almost two until the next one.
“I shall have to consider this carefully,” Olesia replies. Oh, it would be so much easier if she just agreed. But if she doesn’t…
It will all be so very embarrassing. Sibilia will want to know why Merile and I didn’t tell her of the ghosts earlier. And what will we do if she then speaks with Celestia and Elise? They’d be so very disappointed in me and Merile. I know it for sure!
“We might as well,” Olesia says, and the ghosts waft together to hover behind Sibilia.
They reveal themselves exactly at the same moment. I imagine how they must look to my sister. Two elderly ladies in white, with proud, pale faces and paler hair gathered atop their heads. Faded, but strong at the same time.
“Thank you,” Sibilia says, not in the least bit spooked!
Irina and Olesia glance at each other, brows arched. No doubt they expected my sister to gasp upon finding them craning behind her, seeing this in the reflection, but not with her own eyes. But our older sister looks smug instead.
She says, “Now, you can move through the walls, can you not?”
“Of course we can.” Irina cants her chin up. Olesia nods curtly as if the very question were silly to begin with.
“Well, I, for one, would like to know exactly what’s happening in the dining room.”
“Yes! Me, too!” Merile echoes Sibilia, though the two of them never agree on anything.
I’m not sure if I really want to know. Adult things are adult things for a reason. Celestia and Elise will share everything we should know with us as soon as they return. I rub my fist, the white toothmarks there. Come to think of it, maybe Merile and the ghosts are somewhat right. Maybe our older sisters don’t exactly keep secrets from us, but maybe they don’t tell us everything either.
We’re kind of guilty of the same thing.
Irina and Olesia glance at each other. Irina flickers, and her expression is one of fear. Olesia’s shape, on the other hand, hardens. “And what would you be willing to give in exchange?”
When Sibilia speaks, her braided red hair glows. She’s more than herself today. Does that sort of thing come with age? “My word as a Daughter of the Moon that I won’t mention your presence to Celestia and Elise.”
Which is a very curious thing to promise. Merile and I kept the ghosts’ presence secret because we decided to do so. But Sibilia’s suggestion makes it seem as if the ghosts don’t want Celestia and Elise to know about them. I’ll need to think about this later when all is not so confusing.
“Deal.” Olesia reaches a ghostly hand toward Sibilia. My sister grabs it without hesitation. If she feels anything at all, she doesn’t say a word. “Irina will speak in my place.”
An eyeblink later Olesia is gone. Irina drifts to the mirror, to speak in her sister’s place. Sibilia waves curtly at me and, thus summoned, I hurry to join my sisters with Rafa. Mufu welcomes us with nervous tail-wagging. Merile nudges her companion with her shin. “Hush, silly.”
“In the skirmish of Skatanor, fought under the Crescent-lit snowfields that come summer will grow a plentiful harvest of rye, the Equal People, armed with scythes and pitchforks, triumphed against the dispirited, ill-prepared Enemy, killing eleven hundred foes and bringing their callous commander, Captain Orinov, to justice. He will be judged in a fair trial, and when found guilty of breaking the laws degreed by the Moon himself, he shall face the choice between the shameful death of a traitor or donating his soul to remedy the harm he has caused when he decided to side against our good, devoted people.”
“Who’s saying this?” Sibilia squints at the mirror, one thick eyebrow higher than the other. I’m confused, too. What sort of news is this? Why was Papa’s name mentioned when there’s no Crescent Empress to speak his will?
Irina lifts both hands up as if she were holding a scroll. Her knuckles are bony and white. “The man in the fancy red coat.”
“The Poet?” Sibilia muses at the same time as Merile chimes, “My seed.”
“It doesn’t sound like him,” Sibilia comments.
Merile licks her lips as if she’s not sure whether she could and should agree with Sibilia again. Mufu stares expectantly up at her, though she must know this is no time for treats. “It really doesn’t. Not his. The words aren’t his, even if they come out of his mouth.”
But it’s not even that which bothers me the most. It’s the thing the Poet said about choosing between… I kneel down to pet Rafa. I really don’t want to think about it, but I don’t think that’s an option.
Irina clears her throat and glances at us from over the scroll that doesn’t really exist. “Do you want to hear more? The list is very long. Olesia says he has been reading it ever since they retreated into the dining room.”
I glance at Merile, then at Sibilia. Merile bends to pick Mufu up. She’s confused by the way her seed speaks. I’m terrified by what I have heard.
“Yes,” Sibilia says. “Do go on, and leave out nothing.”
Irina closes her eyes and speaks of what her sister sees. “The resourceful people of the fine town of Opitap ambushed the convoy of the greedy Count Sukisov, who foolishly attempted to smuggle gunpowder and ammunition to the Enemy to support their ridiculous pretense of a resistance.”
I don’t remember hearing Count Sukisov’s name before, but… I realize it then, the Enemy must be the people supporting Celestia. How can those fighting for the empress-to-be be called that?
“After inflicting heavy casualties on the opposing side, the Equal People escorted the justly dispirited traitor to the Winter City, where he received a fair trial. He was sentenced to pay his soul for the crimes committed against the Crescent Empire.”
Merile shakes her head slowly. She cradles Mufu against her chest, chin pressed against her companion’s silvery forehead. “No…”
I don’t know what she means, and I can’t think of it now. For a memory comes to me, and it’s a dark, frightening one. Last summer, Merile and I saw the gagargi’s engineer feed an amber bead to the Great Thinking Machine. Since then, I’ve been certain the gagargi wants my soul. My sisters say I’m just imagining it, but having heard the Poet’s words…
“So, regardless of what you do,” Sibilia says, tapping her fingers against her thigh, “you’ll be fed to the Great Thinking Machine?”
My mouth goes so dry that when I whimper I don’t make a sound. Rafa rises on her hind legs to lean against me. It was true all along then. I wasn’t imagining. I really wasn’t imagining it.