Boots stomps aside, and I must remind myself that the gagargi is but a man—a wicked man, but just a man still. I am the oldest Daughter of the Moon. It is not I who will be facing him, but her. Holding on to this thought, I lead my sisters into the room that we might not leave with our souls intact.
“Celestia. The Daughters of the Moon.” Gagargi Prataslav’s black braids are glued against his skull. His face is still wet with the rain, and tiny drops cling to his voluminous beard. His drenched black robes hang against his wiry frame, and yet, he looks like a man who is delighted to have faced the storm.
I remind myself again that he is only a man. But it isn’t only him who awaits us in the room.
Behind him stand at attention Captain Janlav and Captain Ansalov, the shoulders of their gray coats striped with rain, their boots covered in mud. When I still watched the events unfold from my mother’s shadow, I met many generals, dozens of captains, and hundreds of soldiers of lesser rank. I know how to read their faces and postures. These two men have been reporting to the gagargi. Captain Janlav is a soldier delivering bad news, dreading his ruler’s reaction, but who has braced himself for the inevitable punishment. Captain Ansalov smiles smugly. He is a soldier delivering good news, sure of rewards to follow, of praises and reputation gained.
Seeing this, my swan-self wants to scamper out of the room, regardless of the consequences. I push her opinions aside. For a true empress, there is no distinction between good and bad news. Both are information upon which to lay plans and make decisions. Rather than surrendering to my swan-self’s terror, I ask myself two questions.
Why are the two captains present?
Why did the gagargi want to see my sisters?
“Gagargi Prataslav,” I say as my sisters and I form a crescent in the order of our ages. Perhaps the gagargi thinks that the mere presence of the two captains will suffice to distract me. Perhaps, but guessing is never sufficient replacement for knowledge. “So thoughtful of you to travel all the way here to greet us.”
“Yes. I am a very thoughtful man.” The gagargi’s smile reveals his slightly crooked white teeth, but there is no indication yet of a spell spun or cast. What is he waiting for? Or is he simply toying with me? I am tempted to form my spell, but I sense now is not yet the right moment.
Rain lashes against the planks covering the windows. From the corner of my eye, I catch Alina and Merile huddling closer to each other, unaccustomed to the absence of their dogs. The gagargi knows my mind and soul. Just as I have had time to think about this encounter, so has he. He must have realized that I am in full control of myself, that no mere isolation, loss of freedom, could ever break my spirit. But my younger sisters aren’t as resilient. He summoned them, the two captains, into this room so that my sisters would react, so that their distress would disturb my composure, so that he could then catch me off guard and put me under his spell with ease. Just like me, he is merely waiting for the moment to strike.
Boldly, I take a step forward, to shield my sisters from the evil of this man. I will protect them with all the power bestowed on me by the Moon. This is no secret.
“Close the door,” the gagargi suggests to Boots. Captain Janlav shifts his weight, but there are no orders for him. None for Captain Ansalov either.
“Now then, let me have a look at you, dearest Celestia.” The gagargi approaches me, and though he is soaked, he still smells of incense, sharp and pungent. My swan-self screeches. She recognizes a predator when she sees one. “You have been gone for so long. I have missed your company on many a lonely night. But of course it isn’t only about me. Your people miss you, too.”
He speaks as much to me as to the two captains and my sisters. He knows me, knows I have considered every option and eventuality, and as a result reached the one conclusion that is almost too painful to admit aloud. But for me to be able to ambush him with the spell Sibilia taught me, he must feel in control. Though it pains me to have my sisters hear what I am about to say, I have no other option but to part with the words he wants to hear. “I have run as far as I can.”
“Yes. That you have.” He reaches to fondly cup my chin, his skin clammy against mine. And still, there is no sign of a spell, nothing to fight against. I meet his deep, dark gaze. What is this game he plays? “The time has come for you to return.”
As he touches me, images of the night I followed him into his bed flash past my eyes, memories earlier suppressed. My head pressed against his chest. His skin rough against mine. I knew joy with him, but not out of my own will. He wanted me to think I wanted it, liked it, though that I never did.
I push the past aside. I refuse to be a victim a moment longer.
“Yes. That it has.” I mirror his words on purpose, focusing on what matters now. I know from the propaganda reports, the manifest, and his very presence here that even though the gagargi is winning the battles, he hasn’t won over the heart of my people. No matter how many souls he has stolen, he hasn’t been able to make the bloodshed end.
“Join me now, and let us put all this unpleasantness behind us.” His gaze intensifies, and I twitch my head sideways as if it were becoming unbearable. He must believe me weak, once wounded beyond recovery. “We shall stand before the gathered crowds at the autumn equinox. We shall greet the Moon together and receive his blessing to our rule and that of our future daughters.”
Our daughters… he doesn’t have a clue about how close he came to accomplishing his goal, what ridding myself of his seed has potentially cost me. Which is good.
But from the corner of my eye, I catch Elise beaming approvingly. This is what she has wanted me to do all along, though the invitation to leave this house is meant only for me. But it is an unexpected opening, one I can’t leave unexplored. “My people would be relieved to see their empress and her sisters unharmed.”
“Your sisters?” Gagargi Prataslav muses, removing his hand from my chin to stroke his wet beard. “Unharmed…”
I realize my mistake then. All this conversation, mere intimidation, the lack of attack on his behalf, it was just a maneuver for him to push me into revealing my plan. The Moon help us! No, our father can’t help us now. It is up to me to reclaim what can still be salvaged.
“Yes.” He strolls past me, to Elise, and when he does, his attention shifts to her. “The younger Daughters of the Moon.”
I don’t know if this is the optimal time to act or if I will only make the situation worse. But having revealed what I yearned to accomplish, I can but strive to turn the course of events toward a more favorable path. Pressing my lips tight together, I begin to pronounce the one hundred and seventeen consonants and three vowels that form the glyph.
“I remember you, sweet Elise,” the gagargi says, a terribly pleasant tone to his voice. Drawn by this, I turn around, though I am but one-fifth through the letters. Captain Ansalov smirks at me. He thinks me distraught. “You contributed to the cause most generously. We funded many a strike against the Enemy, thanks to your donations.”
Elise flinches, and just like her, I will the gagargi’s words to be a lie. But of course that they are not. Everything that he says makes perfect sense. My sister’s darker moods. Her fraternizing with the guards. The argument that led to our unbridged disagreement. This realization almost leads me to lose track of the glyph’s letters. Almost, but not quite.
“Celestia…” Elise pleads with me, though she should remain silent. Can she not see from my expression that I need to focus? Does she not understand that apologies are of no benefit to us, that emotions may only lead us all to ruin? “Please, Celestia!”