The Moon’s light slanted and brushed against Captain Janlav, as if welcoming a long-lost son home. I think it was Papa’s way of saying that though under the gagargi’s orders, Captain Janlav would keep us safe for as long as he could.
“Shall we not return indoors now that this unfortunate misunderstanding has been sorted out?” Celestia suggested, and without waiting for an answer, she guided Merile past Captain Ansalov and his men, toward the path leading back to the house.
“Considering the circumstances, I couldn’t possibly allow you to walk back unescorted,” Captain Janlav said to her, then to his men, “Please accompany the daughters to their rooms.”
Celestia and Merile had just about reached Elise and me then. Beard and Belly and Tabard and Boots fell beside us before I could as much as even blink. The next thing I knew, my sisters and I were escorted up the hill. Prisoners, yes, but alive.
“Compeers, at ease. I commend you on your vigilance,” I heard Captain Ansalov say behind us. “Captain Janlav, a word with you.”
Though I yearned to return to the house the fastest, to pretend I was safe for a moment at least, I wanted to, needed to hear the conversation between the two captains, too. As I stumbled up the slippery stone steps, I strained my ears. But I couldn’t hear a thing.
Scribs, I really need to ask Alina to talk with the ghosts. We need to learn what sort of understanding the two captains reached, and the sooner the better.
I can’t sleep yet, Scribs. I have a bad conscience. Lately, I’ve had a lot of time to think, and having written what happened on that almost fateful night, I’ve come to realize that I may have acted just a little bit immaturely myself.
For weeks and weeks, I loathed Celestia, and a part of me still does so. My sister chose Alina, Merile, and Elise over me. Had things turned out differently, I might have been shot on that blue winter day alongside General Monzanov. But that’s not how things came to be, and it’s no use being mad about something that didn’t happen. Or that’s what I tell myself. And you.
Of course even the thought of being discarded like that hurt me immensely. But I’ve finally understood the rational reasoning behind my oldest sister’s decision, and now I’m ashamed.
Remember when I speculated about Celestia having been under the gagargi’s spell? What if that wasn’t the end of his evil, what if he further exploited her while she was unable to comprehend which ideas were her own and which came from him? Yes, I mean what you think I mean, but I don’t want to write those horrid words on paper. If Celestia wants to keep it a secret, then I must respect her wish.
But, you should ask me: what makes me think that the gagargi is guilty of more?
I’ll tell you. You recall the visit at the witch’s cottage, the bargain my sister made with her, the bloody aftermath. What if the gagargi’s seed had taken root in my sister’s womb? What if the witch helped her to get rid of it? What if my sister hasn’t been since then suffering from the most irregular wretched days, but instead a condition much more severe?
As soon as I realized this, saw the pieces I somehow missed earlier, everything clicked together. The future of our empire rests on the shoulders of Celestia’s daughters. Which she mightn’t be able to bear anymore. And that’s the biggest, most dangerous secret in this house, something that no one else must learn, Scribs. That’s why I’ll be smudging this over right now.
Celestia had to choose Elise. There was no other choice. Really, there wasn’t.
Poor little Alina is so frail, with her mind rotting, clouded by things we others can’t see. She won’t ever be able to take care of herself. She will always need us to protect her.
And Merile… even if she’s both stubborn and reckless, she’s still our little sister, someone we must look after, though I don’t always much cherish that thought.
Trust me, Scribs, protecting her was the very last thing in my mind when I confronted her the day after the incident. I had to, because she’d acted beyond selfish! I had to make sure she understood that she’d placed all of us in grave danger!
I let her hear a proper lecture, with my voice raised, and slamming my fists against the oval table to punctuate the important bits. Merile replied with a tall tale about the witch and the magpie. Though Celestia and Elise remained customarily restrained, I don’t think they believed a word she said either. I told her as much.
There has been no sign of the witch since we visited her cottage. And she doesn’t do favors.
Merile cried and protested rather heart-wrenchingly, and Celestia and Elise opted to rather soothe her than further chastise her. But I refused to do so, because I knew I was right. We can’t possibly have anything more valuable to offer than the empress-to-be’s firstborn.
Scribs, it just occurred to me that Celestia has put herself at risk already twice, first when she bargained with the witch to bring Alina back from the realm of shadows and the second time when she saved Merile. Of course I can’t know it for sure, but I think that if she could, she would do so also…
No, I know that if Celestia had a choice, she would save me, regardless of the cost.
I’m much comforted by this thought. For lately, I’ve harbored such resentment toward her that I’ve wished ill things to befall her. Good thing she hasn’t spoken to me and I haven’t spoken with her that much either. She’ll never need to learn how much I hated her for a while.
But I don’t hate her anymore. No, I respect her.
Scribs, I’ll go to bed soon, and I promise I’ll speak with her then. I’ll tell her I’ve forgiven her, and that if there’s anything in my power to help her defeat the gagargi, then she will only need to ask. After all, we’re the Daughters of the Moon, both of us, and if we don’t have each other’s backs, then no one has.
Chapter 9: Elise
I suck in the tainted air, and though my throat shrinks and my lungs blister, I don’t cry out like a newborn child who instinctively fears the first breath and the ones thereafter. I don’t cherish it like an exhausted athlete who has reached the finish line at last, who has given his all, and to whom, at that moment, it doesn’t matter if he lost or won. I don’t gasp for more like a soldier whose wounds are beyond healing, whose bravery or cowardliness no longer matters. I hold it in because I deserve the discomfort and pain that the world has in store for me.
In the end, I must breathe out, for I’m not yet dead, and all living things must breathe. The cloud of smoke veils my sisters, the ethereal creatures in white that gather midsummer roses from the bushes that mark the border between the untended lawn and the steep, mossy slope. Though only the porch’s rail and the wet, overgrown grass separate us, it feels as if they were drifting out of my reach inevitably, irrevocably.
“That good?” Beard studies me from under his bushy brows as Tabard pockets the matches with one flick of his thin wrist. Now that the windows are nailed shut, the guards sleep in turns behind the drawing room’s door. It’s easier for them, to be farther away from us during the nights. But during the days, they’re more and more drawn to us, as if my sisters and I were animals exotic and dangerous. This is because of Sibilia.
“Thank you.” I favor Beard with a girlish smile that has never betrayed me and offer the cigarette to him. This isn’t my first smoke but among the first dozen still. I can’t pry my chamber’s lock open with a hairpin, but I can work with locks of the other kind. It was I who insisted Sibilia continue reading the scriptures after every dinner.