Standing in the knee-deep snow, my heart turning into ice.
Watching the troika get smaller and smaller. Waving Elise, Merile, and Alina good-bye, knowing I’ll never see them again.
Hearing the gagargi’s soldiers loading their rifles, the snow creaking under their approaching steps. Knowing it could have been me in the troika if only my oldest sister hadn’t decided that I’m the one that can be sacrificed for the so-called greater good.
Yet Celestia continues to insist she had no other choice. Scribs, that’s why it’s not worth saying another word to her ever again unless I absolutely must.
Bang. Bang. Ah, here we go at last. Bang. Bang. Bang. The soldiers have started nailing planks over the windows. Ugh, I really hate that sound. So raw and throbbing. Almost like a tooth pain.
Merile’s folly ruined everything. I keep on thinking about the plan Celestia told me about while under my spell. It sounded plausible and well thought-out, but it’s no longer of any use to us. The ghosts have as much as told Alina that our sister doesn’t have another one. Not even one that would include abandoning us.
But I’d better brace myself for worse. The rats will soon start barking. Even as I write this, they bounce before the windows. Any moment now…
Oh, yes, here goes. Yap. Yap. Yap. Oh, the Moon, help me!
Now the rats are leaping against the sewn-shut curtains, and Merile simply watches them from afar, lying limply on her side. Bang. Yap. Bang. Yap. Insufferable cacophony. All this noise will surely give me a headache. Can she just not shut them up?
In fact…
Scribs, you won’t believe this! It’s all so incredibly unfair.
Elise dared to chastise ME, and for no other reason than telling the rats to shut up! Well, perhaps I threatened to skin them and make muffs out of them, one for myself and one for Merile (the latter only out of pure kindness). I might have raised my voice a tad (but definitely not in a way that anyone could consider unladylike) because Merile simply doesn’t get things when explained nicely and sometimes not even then, as we both so well know.
Merile, of course, started bawling her eyes out, but at least her rats then stopped barking and rushed into her waiting arms, as if she’d indeed suffered a major shock or trauma. Perhaps I should have tried crying myself, because Elise swiftly rose up from the sofa and glided to comfort our insufferable little sister. She shot a cold look over her shoulder at me and said, “Sibilia, dear, do try to behave.”
I heard her loud and clear, because at that moment the hammering paused. My joy for that was short-lived, though. For Merile glared at me victoriously from behind Elise.
I bit my tongue, because apparently being twelve gives you certain freedoms that disappear as you near your debut (and in case you’ve missed it, Scribs, as we’re still trapped in this house, there’s no way we’ll make it back to civilization in time for mine). Being an adult, or almost so, I maturely turned to Celestia, because her being the oldest of us, her word is final, and she does owe me for intending to leave me behind.
Scribs, what sort of person is so very eager to sacrifice her own sister? Why didn’t she insist we at least try and steal horses? I’m a decent enough rider, and so is she, and I’d rather be shot in the back while attempting to flee than happily stand before a wall, waiting for the soldiers to pull the trigger!
But Celestia simply lifted her tea to her lips, though the cup had to be empty already! I stared at her in utter disbelief. Does she not understand how badly she’s hurt me, that she really should have sided with me? To me, not taking sides is just as bad as choosing the wrong one!
Wait. I know that sound. Approaching steps. The key turning in the lock.
Back again, and let me tell you, that was an awkward encounter!
I admit, making Merile cry wasn’t perhaps my smartest move. Because of course upon hearing the racket, Captain Janlav had to come and check on us. Papa bless us that it was only him and Boy, not Captain Ansalov or one of his mongrel soldiers. Though, no doubt that day will still come.
Naturally, when Captain Janlav pulled open the door, my sisters and I faked that nothing at all had come to pass, and though we’re very good at pretending that something didn’t happen (actually just really good at pretending in general), of course we wound up looking guilty, because that’s what you do when you try and appear extremely innocent.
Celestia nodded him an imperial greeting from the sofa, her chin still somehow tilted up, her teacup held high. (I don’t know how she does it, but I sure don’t have enough time to learn that pose before my impeding debut, wherever it may take place. Also, why doesn’t she need to pee all the time?) Elise buried her fingers in Merile’s hair as if she were about to braid it. Our little sister managed to hold back her sobs, but her cheeks were vivid red still. And Alina… still lingering in the darkest corner, she stared back at Captain Janlav and Boy, her deep-set eyes so haunted that it scares me to think what she might have seen. I think the ghosts might have been talking with her, but I can’t know for sure, because I have to see their reflection to hear them and that hasn’t happened in a while. They avoid me, though I gave them my word that I won’t reveal their existence to Celestia and Elise, and unlike some, I keep my word, no matter what.
“Carry on,” Captain Janlav said after he became reassured that nothing more than a minor family dispute had come to pass. And then he just stood there, the heels of his once-fine boots firmly pressed together, as if we were soldiers under his command, as if he expected us to proceed with whatever meager daily activity he’d interrupted. As if all it took for us to resume being happy and content was his permission.
The silence stretched on, and I dreaded that he’d never leave. His gorgeous pine-brown eyes narrowed as they always do when he really starts thinking. I fidgeted with your spine, Scribs, for at that moment I dreaded him suspecting that my sisters and I were up to something (though we aren’t and can’t possibly be). And of course, because my hands turned instantly clammy, and him looking at me makes me clumsy, I wound up dropping you on the floor.
Boy shifted first, like a foal that doesn’t yet have control of its limbs. I do sympathize about that, though not about anything else. Well, perhaps a bit about the pimples and scars they’ve left on his high, sharp cheeks. But definitely not for the voice that seems to have gone missing in action.
Captain Janlav simply watched Boy lurch toward you, Scribs. Perhaps he thought Boy would just pick you up and hand you over to me. But I knew that in his ungainliness, he’d most likely accidentally open you and then… he might see my writing!
I reached out for you, Scribs, as fast as I could. But Boy was already bending down to retrieve you. He lifted his gaze (he has gray, rather large eyes) to meet mine, and our fingers met against your leather cover, in a brush of skin, so warm and sweaty.
I flinched back and, if I hadn’t been sitting already, I would have surely collapsed on the floor. He did likewise, but with a guttural, breaking yelp (no wonder he never speaks). As I cradled you against my chest, Scribs, many thoughts I shouldn’t, couldn’t think crossed my mind. With everyone, and I do mean everyone, my sisters and Captain Janlav, staring at us, I felt like dying of humiliation right then and there.
It was so embarrassing! Boy retreating back to the door, his long limbs swaying every which way as if he had no bones. Captain Janlav eyeing me from under his furrowing brows. At that moment, I was certain he thought of confiscating you! And I couldn’t let that come to pass. The Moon bless me if anyone ever reads your pages. You know way too much for your own good!