Merile and Alina pause playing with the hand mirror on the carpet. The two dogs bounce onto their feet, alert. The brown one lets out a low growl.
I say in a voice in which I pray the Moon shall bear no trace of my terror, “Gagargi Prataslav is here.”
Though I have had seven months and two weeks since we left the Summer Palace to prepare for this encounter, my statement frightens every single one of them. Elise, who so casually suggested I go with the gagargi and leave my sisters to face death or worse. Sibilia, who turned to the scriptures for comfort, who found something more, but still frets about missing her debut. Merile and Alina, who understand that the gagargi is evil, but blessedly nothing more.
“He’s greeting the captains downstairs,” Alina says, and Merile nods, avoiding looking at the mirror’s reflection. From this I know that Irina and Olesia are present, a complication I would have hoped to avoid. Yet I can’t reveal that I know of this—in this house knowledge is power.
“Gather around, my sisters,” I say. I can’t allow myself to be distracted by the past, mistakes made by my mother for which I may yet need to bear the blame. “We may not have much time.”
My sisters do as I ask, even Elise, who no longer cares about traditions and rules. She has her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze downcast. Does she hope or dread that I will heed her advice? Sibilia meets my eyes boldly. The two of us share a secret. She thinks I have a chance against the gagargi. Merile and Alina know nothing at all. They are our little sisters. I believe every single one of us, even Elise, would do whatever is in our power to protect them.
“The gagargi will want to see only me,” I say. Of that, I am quite sure. It is only I who is of value and importance to him. He wants me to stand by his side before the crowds and bear a child of his seed. It is only that way that my people will ever accept him as a ruler assigned by the Moon. “You are to wait here. Even if I may stay away for a long while, don’t be afraid. Captain Janlav and the guards will not let any harm come to you.”
For as long as it is possible, at least. Since the day we listened to the music, they have been more and more drawn to us. They visit us during the long afternoons, bringing the gramophone and the frail discs with them. We play cards until six, for then they must join Captain Ansalov and his soldiers in the dining room. But after both my sisters and the guards are sustained, they return to hear Sibilia reading the scriptures. Though Elise has been wrong about many things, I must approve of her cunning in ever so casually setting up these new routines, making our last weeks together that little fraction better.
“But you will come back?” Merile asks, glancing sideways at Alina, who is already in tears. It is as if they are both convinced that they will never see me again. The ghosts in the mirror must be whispering disconcerting things to them.
“I will come back,” I promise, but there is a note of falseness in my voice. The gagargi is a magnificent opponent. Though the Moon has strengthened me, it may be that I can’t resist the gagargi’s spells. It is well possible that I may not be able to make him believe my words as his own. Yet I can but try, even if this may hurt me beyond healing. “But I might return changed.”
“As a swan,” Alina whispers, and breaks down in sobs that tremble her whole, frail body.
“Hush.” Sibilia kneels to embrace our little sister. As she holds her, her sleeves reach barely over her elbows. She hasn’t yet met the limits of her body. Or mind. “Celestia is strong. You needn’t be afraid.”
I wish only that I could believe in myself as much as Sibilia does. When the gagargi last put his spell on me, I was unprepared and weak. He did things to me that can’t be undone. Yet I can’t let the past affect me now.
“I must prepare myself,” I say. The spell Sibilia taught me is similar to the one she first learnt. In principle, it should allow me to make the gagargi believe that he should take all of us with him. While this wouldn’t guarantee us freedom, it would broaden our options. For in this house, hope is extinct.
Elise brushes my shoulder, her touch soft as a falling feather. “Will you accept an embrace for good luck?”
This I didn’t expect. It is not an apology. I doubt she will ever ask for my forgiveness, but it is something, a concession perhaps. And though I should get ready for the encounter with the gagargi, at that moment it becomes more important to me to simply be close to my sisters, to soothe my aching heart, and that is what I do.
As I hold my sisters and they hold me, I think, there was a time when I could easily brush my feelings aside. How inconvenient it is to be overcome by emotions! How inconvenient indeed, and yet it feels like a blessing still!
There is a knock, followed by a nervous rattle of the key. I gently pry my hem free of Alina’s grip. Her fingers are so tiny, thin and narrow. I don’t want to let go of them, but that is what I must do. “This is where we must part, but it will be only for a moment.”
Alina stares at my feet—no, at my shadow—and wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. “You will come back.”
The door opens before I can ask for more or decide not to do so. It is Beard and Tabard. This time around, they have their rifles strapped against their backs. They also wear long knives at their belts, visible rather than hidden. These two things tell me everything I need to know.
“Gagargi Prataslav has come for me.”
“Aya.” Beard stares at his thick knuckles, the hands clasped into fists. “The great gagargi has indeed arrived.”
I glide toward the guards without them having to order me. I know the role I have to play. I will not fight against it. “I am ready.”
Tabard clears his throat, and yet he is hesitant to deliver the message. “He told us to bring all of you.”
It is only because I am already moving that my steps don’t falter. What can the gagargi possibly want with my sisters? Will he threaten them to make me do his bidding? Or does he have more sinister plans in store for us? I can but mentally prepare for that.
“Come along then, my sisters,” I say lightly, as if I had known to anticipate this as well. “Gather in a line behind me.”
I don’t glance over my shoulder as I exit the room. My sisters know their places. And there is no place else for them to go, but to follow me.
It rains outside, something that we have grown used to, but that feels more ominous now that the gagargi shelters under the same roof. The stairs thud hollow under our steps. The hallway leading to the dining room feels longer. This doesn’t disturb me—I shall use the time in my hands to prepare myself for the encounter.
It is the gagargi who told me to decide whether I will be a victim or a victor, and so I seek strength from the harm he inflicted on me in the past rather than let seeing him surface it all again and weaken me at the crucial moment.
He made me fail my people. His is the blame for the civil war, even if it was I who first sought his guidance.
He made me fail my mother. His is the blame for her demise. He put me under his spell and made me think the coup my idea.
He made me fail myself. His is the blame for my pain. It was him who stole my soul and sowed his seed in my womb. He did this when I was powerless to resist him.
As we reach the dining room’s closed door, Boots and Belly standing guard before it, I make myself a solemn promise. I may have been a victim before, but tonight, I shall be the victor.
Boots nods at me before rapping the door with his knuckles. There is no reply, but he opens it nevertheless, announces, “The daughters are here.”
“Please, ask them to join us.” Gagargi Prataslav calls at us in a pleasantly low voice, as if we were about to share a cup of zavarka tea together and not discuss our fates.