The Other Side of Magic

by Ester Manzini

  Evandro couldn’t refuse his help when he turned around and the whole room spun around him.

  Some color was back on Gaiane’s cheeks, and Leo was going from angry to perplexed.

  “I don’t get it,” she said, her mohawk ruffled on her head.

  “You survived,” Evandro said, pushing Mirone away and staggering toward Ligeia. The queen, the rallying voice that called the rebels, the Laskaris loyalists. Ligeia.

  “You saved us,” she said, her large, beautiful eyes glimmering with tears. “You saved us, Evandro.”

  “No, I don’t get it either,” Gaiane whispered.

  “Don’t worry, my ladies. It just means I’m keeping my head on my neck for a little longer, since I’m not a traitor. Isn’t it, Leo?” Ampelio winked, but Leo ignored him.

  Evandro took a deep breath.

  Tears rolled in his beard, wiping away the grime of long days of adventures. Cleansing eight years of self-inflicted wounds in his soul, regret and guilt and self-deprecation.

  I saved them.

  “Your… child?” he asked under his breath, and Ligeia smiled. The white flash of her teeth brightened her face.

  “Rea. She can’t sit still and fears nothing. Just like her father.”

  It was the last straw. Something gave way in Evandro's heart. He gulped and blinked tears away, and then stopped trying. With his nose burning hot, his cheeks wet and his voice shaking, he fell to his knees again, touching his brow with his fist.

  A lifetime ago, it was his formal salute to a prince. To his prince, the man he’d sworn to protect, his secret love.

  It still came as natural as breathing, and he slowly let air flow through his nose.

  “I’m… not worthy. I’ve lost so much, forgotten so much--but if you’ll have me, my sword is yours. I still serve the Laskaris family, and I always will.”

  For a moment the room was still, the silence complete.

  Then Ampelio clapped his hands.

  “I’ve been holding from saying it for weeks but I knew it! I knew you were the Dawn Star, and you kept saying ‘I’m no one, I’m no one’, ah! See, my queen? I was right. I love being right!”

  The tension broke, and Ligeia chuckled.

  “I think Evandro still hates you a little, but yes, you did us a great service. Rise, Dawn Star: I don’t like to have men on their knees at my feet, but you’re more than welcome.”

  She held her hand out, and Evandro looked up at her.

  A friend. A queen, a mother who had lost everything and yet was smiling at him. Proud, incredulous. Althea stood serious at her side, not the noble queen she’d used to be, but a hardened woman, scarred but keeping her head high.

  Evandro extended his hand, and a contraction ran through his muscles when he touched Ligeia’s fingers. Not a vision, then. She pulled him up and took a step back.

  “We have so much to discuss, old friend,” she said, taking a quick peek at the two girls behind him. Evandro wanted to say something that could explain why he was babysitting two young girls, but his heart was jumping in his throat, and he couldn’t speak at all. “Ampelio, take the two girls downstairs. And…”

  She stared at Evandro and patted his hands.

  “May I suggest sending for a bath, or something?” Ampelio said. “He smells like a goat.”

  Evandro didn’t react, and the boy deflated a bit. Althea, though, nodded.

  “Good idea, child. And then…”

  “... and then we’ll talk.” Ligeia finished for her. She couldn’t look away from Evandro, and he couldn’t as well.

  A princess in rags. The queen of her people.

  The Laskaris live on. Spirits, let me die in this dream, if such it is. I don’t want to wake up.

  * * *

  “Dawn Star, wait!”

  The tunnel was crowded, and the air vibrated with the whispers of dozens of those who stepped aside to make room for Evandro. They moved to the walls, covering their mouths and commenting in hushed voices the ghost from the past that walked among them.

  Despite it, and despite the sound of steps, the creaking of carriages and the distant banging of hammers, Ampelio’s call clearly reached Evandro’s ears. He gritted his teeth and marched on.

  “No, really, can you wait, please? Pardon me, I just need to—sorry. Like that, I… Dawn Star! I’m talking to you!”

  “I wish you weren’t,” Evandro muttered. He turned past a pile of barrels by a corner and took a narrower corridor. At the bottom of it, a crude wall of debris and crumbled bricks blocked his way. On the walls surrounding him, no doors or windows to shelter him. A dead end.

  Evandro cursed under his breath and clenched his fists, staring at the entrance of the secondary tunnel and breathing slowly through his nose. Perhaps Ampelio was smart enough not to go poke him, or to take a hint and let go of whatever nonsense he needed to discuss so much.

  The blonde head appeared behind the corner, followed shortly by the rest of the young man’s gangly figure.

  Or perhaps not.

  “Leave immediately. I’m not in the mood for a chat.” Evandro snarled. His knuckles let out a creepy crackling when he clenched his fists tighter.

  “But I am, and you really need to hear what I have to say.” Ampelio was panting lightly, and he leaned against the wall with a hand on his brow. “Spirits, you’re a fast walker…”

  “Listen, if you don’t want to suffer a good round of punches and insults, you’d better… “

  “Who would want that? No, no, I come in peace. You deserve an explanation, and I hate to see you that crossed with me. I’m supposed to be a pleasant company!”

  Evandro took a step forward and pointed his finger at Ampelio. The apologetic look on that kid’s face only made his will to slap him stronger; he resisted it, although the effort made his muscles tremble.

  “I don’t want your company. Besides, you were supposed to escort the princess and Leo to their quarters, and you’re skipping your duties!”

  “You’re sorely mistaken, Dawn Star. The girls are settled already, and I really needed to talk to you.” Ampelio pushed himself from the wall and opened his arms. “I can’t stand that you’re so angry at me.”

  “Get used to it. I don’t give my trust easily, especially when it’s been betrayed once already.” Ampelio was blocking his way, but Evandro didn’t care. He walked straight to him, ready to slam his shoulders against him and physically remove him from the corridor.

  He never got to do it, because Ampelio took his arm and tugged at it, until Evandro couldn’t but look up and glare at the slender hand around his wrist. The bandages from the old wound were still in place, dirty and ragged. The sight smothered some of the ire inside him, but not enough to soften his voice. “Let me go, if you don’t want to regret a lot of things.”

  “Only if you listen to me. For real, not because I can force you to.”

  There was no spell in his voice now, only a heartfelt request. Evandro was too tired to argue, and even his body, tensed as it was, relented. He shrugged Ampelio’s touch away and crossed his arms.

  “Make it quick.”

  “I could start with saying that I’m sorry I had to lie to you. At least you believe me on this, don’t you? I never meant to trick you into anything, only to keep my word to queen Ligeia.”

  “Word!” Evandro barked in bitter laughter. “Had she sent you out to scout for dead knights and mementos of her past?”

  “No. Just for help,” Ampelio replied with simplicity and a touch of a smile. “Believe it or not, I only wanted what’s best for this group of people, and I know you’ll feel the same, once you’ve settled. Besides…”

  The moment of silence lasted too long to be casual, a pause too well studied to impress Evandro.

  “Spit it out, kid. I don’t have all day, and my patience is running thin.”

  Ampelio smiled for good now, looking up and brushing his hair from his forehead; the gesture casually made his mark visible, dark and definite.


  “Can you say, in all honesty, that you would’ve trusted someone who said that a woman you considered dead was alive, that there was still hope for the house you served, and the old battle wasn’t forgotten?”

  Evandro narrowed his eyes as a shiver of tension ran through his body. Instinct almost took over, but he stopped short of grabbing Ampelio’s collar. He still loomed over him, but the gesture caused nothing but a glimmer in the boy’s grin.

  “I’m sure you could’ve woven a nice story to make it believable.”

  “There was no need to, and you’re not answering me. I lied to you, and for this I pray you’ll forgive me some day, but I’d do it again and again if it meant helping you find a purpose again. Helping those around us.” He took a step back with his chin high. “I’m loyal to my queen, and my folk deserve a future. You could be a part of it, and I’m pretty sure that’s what you want.”

  Ampelio was still smiling, but his eyes were deadly serious. He didn’t even look that young and carefree anymore.

  What was worse, his words made sense. He was right, and the truth he spoke tasted bitter and strong.

  Evandro closed his eyes for a moment. When Ampelio patted his arm, though, he recoiled.

  “Come on, there’s no need to be so glum! Are we alright, Dawn Star? Are you still mad at me?”

  “Do you ever stop talking?”

  “So you’re not angry anymore, good!”

  “I never said that I…”

  Another pat on his arm, harder this time, and a grin that could’ve split Ampelio’s face in half.

  “Nor you said the contrary! I must go, but I’m glad we’ve cleared the air. And to keep up with this healthy habit, you should really go to your room and change yourself. You do smell like a goat. See you later, Dawn Star!” And there he was again, the bubbly storyteller Evandro had learned to tolerate. Ampelio bowed with a great waving of his hands and hopped away with the usual spring in his steps.

  A moment too late, Evandro shook his head and ran to the entrance of the alley.

  “Stop calling me that!” he cried out. A couple of people in the crowd gave him perplexed looks, but Ampelio was gone.

  With a sigh, he ruffled his hair and departed to find his place.

  It was hard to accept, but that conversation really had cleared the air.

  * * *

  It wasn’t a room. No person should’ve lived here, in a space so narrow Evandro barely had the room to turn around and shed his filthy clothes. A storage room, probably, with empty shelves on a wall, a lump of fresh straw on the floor and a bucket by the door.

  The water inside was muddy now, and red tufts floated on the surface. They’d returned him his sword and knife, and with the help of a bit of lye soap he’d managed to shave his beard. His throat burned where he’d scraped his skin, and the fresh clothes they’d given him bore some yellowish stains here and there. He felt more human than he’d been in almost a decade.

  Sitting on his straw bed he listened to Nikaia breathe around him. The muffled sound of people talking, hammers falling, the occasional cry of a baby--this place was as lively as any town on the surface, but it was a secret.

  Ampelio had said that the town was abandoned, haunted. A good tale, that had kept the Asares far from the ruins. And below them, Ligeia lived, and the Laskaris legacy with her.

  He ran his fingers through his damp hair. His hands were still unsteady, and overall the whole situation felt like a dream. He’d seen little of the settlement on his way from the throne room, but enough to recognize the struggles of a community trying to survive. A forge, the smell of cooking bread, dozens of people in an assortment of ragged clothes shooting him perplexed looks.

  Someone still held on to Epidalio’s freedom. In silence, far from the sun.

  And still, they fought.

  A knock rang by the door, and Evandro looked up, his hand going to the sword at his side.

  He relaxed, breathing slowly until his heartbeat slowed down, then stood up.

  When he opened the door, Althea herself was waiting. Instinct and training bent his knees, but the woman shook her head.

  “We don’t mind these formalities here, child.” she said. A scar at the corner of her mouth tilted her smile, but her eyes glimmered in delight when she lifted her lantern and studied Evandro more closely. “Let me look at you--ah, here’s the Dawn Star I remember!”

  Evandro's cheeks warmed, and he bowed his head.

  “Thank you, your…”

  “Althea. I’m not a queen anymore, and I don’t want to be addressed as such. Come here,” she added, calling him out of his room with her hand.

  Evandro obeyed and stooped to pass under the lintel. Althea looked fit, her hands rough but still smooth; despite the wrinkles between her brows and at the corners of her mouth, her eyes still sparkled, and the short hair made her look younger.

  “You look good,” he said under her scrutiny.

  “I know. I’ve been very active lately, you know? My, long hair suits you, and Eliodoro would agree with me.”

  The prince’s ghost came to life between them, in the distant sadness in his mother’s voice, and in Evandro's endless pain.

  He followed her down the hall, and for a while they stood in silence.

  “We rediscovered Nikaia six years ago,” she said as they walked past a long series of doors, identical to that of Evandro's room. “It had been stripped of anything of value, and the Asares never showed interest in moving their royal palace here.”

  “Something I’m grateful for,” he muttered. Althea snickered.

  “They never shied away from adding insult to injury, but in this case I just think they didn’t like the landscape. It’s a little haunting indeed…”

  “Your ma... Althea, did Ampelio tell you who we were traveling with?”

  “Oh? The Asares girl, Gaiane. Yes, yes he mentioned something about her.”

  “And you’re… fine with this?”

  Althea averted her eyes; Evandro was sure to see anger flash on the old queen’s face, but when she shrugged he thought he’d imagined it.

  “It’s not for me to say. Ligeia will want to discuss it with you, but for now the girl is safe in the dungeons--well, in a deeper level of the dungeons, I should say. We dug miles of tunnels in the past years, and added some new chambers to the complex.”

  Evandro trotted to take over her and stared down at her.

  “I wanted to kill her and get revenge for what she did. I thought you would…”

  “I thought that too,” the woman whispered. The light of her lamp made her eyes look sunken in the shadows of her eye sockets, and the smell of burning oil shrouded her. “It was a long time ago.”

  “He was your son…”

  “And I mourned him! But I couldn’t afford the luxury of dying inside, not with Ligeia and Rea to care for.” she snapped. Her eyes softened when she lifted her hand and caressed Evandro's jaw. “But you still mourn him…”

  “I always will,” he blurted out before his throat could clench against the memories.

  Althea sighed and smiled again, sorrowful.

  “You’ve suffered enough, kid. You’ve punished youself for eight years. Now it’s time you start to live and fight again. Here, right over there--Ligeia is waiting for you.”

  Evandro stumbled and stopped in front of yet another anonymous door.

  “What--here? Already?”

  Althea cocked an eyebrow and her face brightened a little.

  “Worried now, Dawn Star? It’s just Ligeia, you’re friends.”

  “B-But I thought…”

  “Hush now, you’re more than presentable,” and she knocked.

  Too soon, and he wasn’t ready. One thing was thinking about meeting the rebel queen, but facing her door without any warning like that? He gaped and groaned softly, but then Ligeia called from her room, and Althea opened the door.

  “It’s rude to make a queen wait.” Althea chuckled, pushing him forward.

  “B
ut I…”

  “You know where your room is. Good night!” and she slammed the door behind him.

  Evandro had no time to protest that no, he didn’t know where his room was, he hadn’t counted the doors on their way, but it was too late.

  He stood upright and turned his back to the door, stiff and sweating just a little. His face felt weird, too smooth without the beard he’d grown used to, and he was sure his cheeks were flushed.

  The room was not very different from his own, only three times larger. Still, not a very big space. The fact that it was crowded with crates, boxes and shelves covered in candle stumps didn’t help.

  Ligeia was sitting on her bed, just a little plumper than Evandro's. She looked nothing like a queen, with her cloak unfurled around her, over a simple tunic to her knees and some soft trousers tied around her calves. Like a rebel, maybe, because her black face was sharp like diamonds.

  She tied her braids in a bun on top of her head and called Evandro with a gesture of her head.

  “Come here. You look clean enough not to fill my covers in fleas.”

  “I never had fleas!” he said.

  “You did when you were sixteen, remember? Your mother had to shave your head, and you spent a week indoors because you couldn’t joke about yourself. Eliodoro even thought it suited you…”

  Evandro sulked and obeyed, standing in front of the bed.

  “The Laskaris have conflicting opinions on my hairstyles. Althea said the opposite…”

  Ligeia moved to the side and patted the mattress.

  “Sit. I promise, it won’t be unbecoming.”

  Evandro flushed so much his ears throbbed.

  “I never thought… I could never…”

  “I know! Just… sit here, would you? Please.” There was no edge to her tone. The simple, earnest request of a friend. Evandro sighed and sat down at her side.

  They weren’t touching, only sharing their time and space. In utter silence, surrounded by the pulse of the secret Nikaia.