“How. How are we ever going to manage to put it together?” Merile asks, but it’s as if she’s not worried about the samovar but about something else altogether.
“Hush,” Celestia says, and in her blue eyes live the calm seas and the cloudless summer skies. “We will make do with what we have. And no matter what awaits us once we depart the train, as long as we remain composed and quiet, I promise to you, my sisters, that it is in my power to keep us safe. As long as we are together, everything will be all right.”
I purse my fingers around the silver screw, smiling. We’ll be safe, after all. Celestia is blessed by the Moon, the oldest of us, the empress-to-be, and she never lies.
I don’t know why I thought that Angefort would be a town. It’s not, and I’m not yet sure what it actually is.
As we step out of the train, we’re greeted by a gust thick with prickly flakes, but not even a tiniest hint of light. I’m still shivering, squinting to see beyond my own boots, when the guards flanking us switch on the duck soul lanterns that sway as the wind wills. Their serious faces are familiar to me now, though I don’t know their real names. My sisters have named them Beard, Boy, Belly, Boots, and Tabard.
Then we’re on the move already, and of that I’m happy, because I’m sure that if we’d stayed still for a moment longer, we would have turned into ice. Captain Janlav leads the way through the storm, his steps long and strong, toward the hut that acts as the station and the hunched shapes of… houses? Me and my sisters have to hold tight to our blankets, which is tricky because we also have to carry our own belongings. Celestia goes first, cradling the dented samovar against her chest. Elise is next with the bundles of wrapped-up porcelain. Sibilia wades with her head bent low, the curtains clutched against her sides. Merile has our sheets and pillows piled on her arms. I’m the last, and my load is the lightest and sweetest, but as the wind yanks at my blanket, I dread I’ll soon drop the wooden box that contains what’s left of the sugar and tea.
The silent guards accompanying us carry only their rifles and the lanterns, their coats buttoned all the way up. I think they might get to return to the train later. I envy them for both. I did feel safer on the move. This place doesn’t feel friendly in any way. I don’t think any of our seeds will be here to meet us.
“Welcome to Angefort,” Captain Janlav says when we reach the small hut, the wind pausing just long enough for the words to reach us. He sounds the same as always, steadfast and steady, but he looks very different. No, it’s his coat that’s different, missing the epaulets and the silver buttons, the signs of his rank in Mama’s service.
My sisters stare past him, at our destination, and I do likewise. My bones rattle in the gale, or that’s how it feels, but finally I can make out what awaits us. It’s a square with low log buildings for three sides, the platform we stand on closing it. The windows are shuttered against the winter, the chimneys puff gray wisps. In the middle of the square is a flagpole, and there flaps angrily a scarlet flag that bears black shapes I don’t recognize from this far away. Then, three men in bulky coats, with the hoods drawn up, swarm out of the nearest house, armed with rifles, bearing dim lanterns. They must have heard the train arrive.
“Garrison. This is a garrison,” Merile mutters even as Rafa and Mufu dive under the hem of her white cloak. Her companions must be scared. Or then, though coated, they’re freezing. Or both. “Here, at the end of the railway! Curious that…”
Celestia shakes her head very, very lightly. Even as the wind scrapes our cheeks, as the snow turns us white-haired and piles up on our shoulders, Merile—we all—should be silent, simply watch, but not be seen. Akin to shadows, no matter what.
Captain Janlav waves at the soldiers. He doesn’t seem cold or concerned at all as he marches through the snow to greet them. He calls over his shoulder, “Come.”
We do as he commands, though this means that poor Rafa and Mufu can no longer shelter under Merile’s hem.
When we’re but ten steps away from the soldiers, a frightening thought occurs to me. The sky is gray with clouds. Papa can’t see us now. Anything might come to pass without him learning about it until much later. Though I’ve decided to remain brave, I tremble as we meet the garrison men. The pinprick snowflakes sting my eyes, and tears soon follow. But I mustn’t make a sound. I must be as my shadow should be.
Captain Janlav salutes the soldiers, bringing his fist against his chest. He’s wearing red gloves, just as they are—they’re all on the same side. “Captain Janlav,” he introduces himself, his voice barely loud enough to carry over the howling wind. He glances at each of the men in turn, frosted brows furrowing. “Where’s Captain Ansalov?”
The garrison men shrug back at him, bearded chins clenched against their furry collars, cheeks already burning red. In the light of the swinging lanterns, their shadows are scattered, uncertain of which way to fold. But I know for sure they don’t want to be out either. I know this sort of thing because I’m friends with many a shadow.
“Well?” Captain Janlav tilts his rifle toward the heavy clouds.
A gust sharper than any before swipes against my back, against my sisters. Our hair comes loose from the braids, and light snow flees before us like a hundred translucent snakes. I hold on to my blanket, though my fingers are so numb that I don’t feel them at all anymore. But I won’t say a word. I’m my own shadow.
“Waiting inside.” The shortest of the garrison men motions in the direction from which he and the others came. I realize it then, they don’t know who we are. Is this Celestia’s doing? Can Papa help us even when he can’t see us?
“Well, how about you take us to him?” Even I can tell that Captain Janlav doesn’t want to reveal more of his mission to these men, only their leader. Is he concerned about our safety? Or is he, too, simply weary of standing out here in the storm?
“Friend, we’ve been waiting for you for weeks.” The man reaches up to brush snow off Captain Janlav’s shoulder, a gesture too amiable. He reeks of smoke and sweat and something pungent. My teeth clatter, and so do Merile’s, and I can do nothing to stop it.
“And now we are here.” Captain Janlav doesn’t sling his rifle over his shoulder, but glances at me and my sisters, speckled white from head to toe. Celestia looks back at him as if she were the one giving him the permission. Maybe it’s that way. “Lead the way to your captain.”
The garrison men guide us the rest of the way across the square, through the thickening snowfall. It hurts to move, more than it hurt to stand still. Every step feels too long, but I must keep up with my sisters. Though they wouldn’t leave me behind. They’d come looking for me, even if they might never find me.
I’m so intent on wading onward, warding off my own thoughts, that I don’t even notice it when we at last reach the buildings. But that we do.
Despite there being three houses, I don’t see one that would match with what Celestia has told us about our destination. But when we climb up the clean-brushed stairs leading to a narrow porch, I hear the faintest notes of…
Music! It’s definitely music, and I’ve heard this tune before! Rafa and Mufu yap as they, too, recognize the song. It’s from an opera that Elise at one time couldn’t stop humming. A love story with an unhappy ending, I think. And yet the tune warms me more than my blanket does—we haven’t heard music since… Not since we boarded the train.