As the glyph transforms into a spell, it feels as if I were standing in the Moon’s light. The silver threads of the spell bear my beloved’s touch, and they are visible only to Sibilia and me. I feel inhumanly strong, almost invincible, but this is just an illusion. I didn’t triumph over the gagargi, merely delayed this moment. I must proceed with the greatest care and caution.
As Captain Ansalov strides toward me, I wrap the threads into a cap around his head. He halts abruptly, a step away from me. Now that I am married to the Moon, his magic comes to me in a more structured, more understandable way. This spell is intricately woven, one for me to control, not one as wild as the one with which I so crudely attacked the gagargi.
“Daughters…” My sisters and Captain Janlav wait for Captain Ansalov to announce his grim news. Captain Ansalov clenches his jaw as I press the silver net through his hair, against his skull. He scratches the back of his head, fingers sinking deep into his thick curls.
Captain Janlav clicks his heels together. Though the silence has lasted for mere seconds, he is suspicious, aware that I may be trying something he might not even comprehend. He glances past me at Elise, searches for a confirmation. The walls of this house are thin—I have heard if not seen the bonds forged between them. I can discern all of this in his voice. “Good evening, daughters.”
My sisters remain in the arc behind me, as I have earlier instructed them to do. Apart from Sibilia, they don’t know about the glyph or the spell. Yet they have placed their lives in my hands. Alina, Merile, Sibilia, even Elise, they believe in our father’s powers, if not yet in mine.
“Daughters. Celestia.” Captain Ansalov brandishes the once-sealed orders. I ram the cap against his head, push it through the skin. I don’t plan on altering his mind, rather the orders he thinks he has read. For the closer I stay to the truth, the easier Sibilia says it will be to make him believe what I say. “Gagargi Prataslav has sent for you.”
I meet his gaze, boldly, as is the right of the oldest Daughter of the Moon and that of the Crescent Empress. His skull, though made of bone, yields under the spell. Captain Ansalov’s body tenses, and his winter-bitten fingers curl tighter around the letter. Some might consider it terrifying to have this much power, to be able to change the course of events, history even, with mere words said. But this is how it has always been for the Crescent Empress. “My sisters and I are ready.”
And from this moment on I am alone, as the empresses of the past have always been. I dare not to divide my attention to how my sisters fare, to more than one mind. I have chosen to tackle the more dangerous man first.
For mine is the touch of my father and my husband, and under it, Captain Ansalov’s mind is red and raw, a tangle of orders received and followed. I sense this, though I don’t know the details, I don’t possess the skill to see them. But I can imagine their content. The orders are from those higher in rank than him, a few are from my mother, and then, some are from the gagargi himself. I can also sense that this isn’t the first time his mind has been tampered with.
I had expected that with my beloved’s help I would be able to separate these commands from each other with ease. But there is no way to further tell them apart. Quickly I realize the only available approach is to alter as many as I can. And that is what I do.
Three decades of service translates to hundreds, if not thousands, of deeds done in the name of those more powerful. I imprint my will against each order, perfectly aware that I am thus fast draining the strength my beloved blessed me with. But soon I realize, not Captain Ansalov’s. His will has been eradicated so many times that the only thing that has persisted is a blind sense to obey without reason or thought for consequences; the only way for him to bear this is to enjoy doing so.
“Shall we, then?” Captain Janlav’s question brings me back to the moment.
A headache buds behind my eyes, and the silver threads connecting me to Captain Ansalov’s mind flicker. What I have done may suffice or then turn out to be nowhere near enough. At this point, perhaps the best course of action is to wait, simply maintain the spell with what little is left of my beloved’s strength.
As I hold Captain Ansalov under the spell, he remains dazed, Captain Janlav suspicious. I rub my forehead, to clear my thoughts, before I can stop myself. The question to ask is: if Captain Janlav came upon a chance to protect my sisters and me, would he grasp it? Yes, I think so, he is a decent man, once loyal to my mother, now dedicated to our people. Having grown close to Elise, he will not willingly hurt us if provided with an alternative that doesn’t put his men at risk.
“The order.” Captain Ansalov glances at the wrinkled paper. Flakes of red wax shiver onto the carpet. I refuse to think of this as an omen, though a hundred white dots bloom before my eyes from the mere effort of prolonging the spell. “The order…”
Now Captain Janlav knows that I have indeed pursued the path of resistance. His lips part, but not to form a protest. It is more as if he were in awe of me. Intriguing. Though he knows me as the oldest Daughter of the Moon, doesn’t know me as the empress, my powers shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him.
“My sisters and I are ready to come with you,” I repeat, meeting Captain Ansalov’s eyes. His mind, it pulses under the spell, violent and violated. More orders surface, from this year or from decades past, that I can’t tell even as I feel the last flecks of my beloved’s blessing waning.
“The orders are to…”
I will myself behind the spell with my full mind, with my whole body. I will see my sisters to safety, regardless of what that might do to me. And so I alter the orders as they spring up in Captain Ansalov’s mind.
A guttural grunt of refusal slips out from between Captain Ansalov’s lips. But it is too late for him to repel me and of that I am glad. For every action I commit consumes a part of my soul. But I have no time to regret my choice, no regrets. And so I press the spell against his mind and everything it contains.
Captain Ansalov recoils. His eyes widen, then narrow. Captain Janlav stares at me, indecision marring his forehead. I arch my brows at him. What did he expect? A Daughter of the Moon simply giving up? And at the same time, I am equally surprised by my own power.
Captain Janlav’s mouth pulls taut, and he strides to Captain Ansalov’s side. He clears his throat as he claps his heels together. A part of me wants him to speak up, another part to forever remain silent. One of my wishes is granted. “We shall take the daughters with us.”
Elise glides beside me, nods passionately. A peculiar, soothing feeling—relief, I realize—washes over me. She does care for our sisters. Given the opportunity, she is willing to protect them.
I share a quick look with her. Now that Captain Janlav has decided to side with us, we must leave this house, reach the troika, preferably the train, and be on our way toward the Summer City before Captain Ansalov can regain his composure. “We are ready.”
For a moment that is so short, but so long still that I believe the fallacy, I think the situation is under my control. There is the slightest easing of tension. A flicker of hope in my younger sisters’ personages.
Then Captain Ansalov blocks my way bodily, ending up so close to me that only a paper’s width separates us. He smells of wet horses and gunpowder, not like my seed did, but terrifyingly familiar still. Under the spell, his mind shifts, like a rogue wave rolling against a rocky shore. “No.”
I force myself to complete stillness. This is it then. When I thought of this encounter before, I knew it might come down to this. I must sacrifice myself to save my sisters. I draw more of my soul and enforce the spell.