“Definitely.” Evandro replied without thinking twice, and this time Ampelio found nothing else to say.
They stood in silence for a while, almost touching but not really, until a woman with a gray bun appeared on the walls.
“Dawn Star, the queen requests your presence,” she said, bowing lightly. Evandro exchanged a long look with Ampelio, who grinned.
“Work, work, work!” he said, playfully pushing Evandro forth.
On his way through the ruins, Evandro felt the old, familiar sting of guilt. How dared he feel so positive about their outcome, so excited just hours before the very possible catastrophe?
Ligeia emerged from behind the corner and startled him.
“Oh Spirits! Sorry, I was coming to find you.” She grabbed his arms to steady herself, and Evandro clumsily tried to kneel. A pointless show of formality, since Ligeia was holding on to him, so he just bowed his head.
“Is everything alright, your majesty?”
“Am I ‘your majesty’ again, now?”
“Since you asked for the Dawn Star, it only seemed appropriate.” Then, as in an afterthought, he added: “These people need their queen and their best knight. Names are important, you know?”
Ligeia patted his shoulder and slid her arm in the crook of his elbow.
“And I need a friend, or I’ll go mad inside an hour.”
“Where’s Rea? Is she safe?”
“Althea’s with her, they’re far away already.” Her frown deepened. “Rea cried when I told her to go, she said she wanted to stay with me. Is that how you felt when Eliodoro ordered you to…”
“More or less,” he interrupted her. He really didn’t want to think about that--failure, defeat, death. The worst kind of company right before a pitched battle.
* * *
“To do what’s right, even if it tears your heart apart. I cried, too, but not in front of her. She needed to see me calm and collected.” Ligeia looked at him, and her eyes sparkled. “It is going to be alright, isn’t it?”
“For her? No doubt. She’s with Althea, and they’re going to be safe. As for you, I wish you stayed out of trouble, but I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”
The queen took his hands and kissed his swollen knuckles.
“I never doubted it. And if I can’t afford to think about triumph and hope, I know we’re doing the best thing. Better go out in a blaze than stay hidden like rats, right?”
“No, Ligeia, don’t--I said I’m going to protect you, and I will!” he growled. “You made me a knight again, and I will honor my name, and that of the Laskaris. Even if I’m wielding an Asares sword.”
Ligeia walked with him down the empty corridor. Most of the townspeople had been evacuated already, and there was silence.
In that silence, they waited. Evandro couldn’t find anything else to tell her, and was just happy to share the company of the only family he had left.
“He would be so proud of you,” Ligeia said after a long time.
Evandro blinked and looked at his clenched fists.
“I wasted so much time. Hiding like a rat, as you said. Eight years when I could’ve looked for you… but it’s over.”
“You can move on, Evandro. You’ve suffered enough.” She caressed his arm and looked behind her shoulder, in the shadows. “I’d better go. I want to help Gaiane get ready, she deserves it.”
Evandro gulped the lump of emotions in his throat.
“I pray nothing happens to her,” and he was sincere.
“She’s brave. Most importantly, she’s free. But she’s still a young girl, and she’s scared. Go back to Ampelio, he does miracles for your mood.” She winked and walked away, and Evandro almost smiled.
Her words rang in his head as he walked back to the walls.
You can move on.
Eliodoro was part of him. The prince, the young, desperate king for maybe an hour, was the foundation he was built on, and nothing would change that. But now Evandro had a new battle to fight.
For you, Eliodoro, but for myself and my people too.
Ampelio was not on the walls when he got there, but Evandro spotted him once or twice in the collapsed courtyard. Each time, he flashed him a smile.
It was past noon when a figure on horseback emerged from the woods in the distance. Evandro grabbed the battlements and squinted, tensing. Ragged dark clothes, a beard and an old, frothing chestnut horse: one of their sentries. He jumped down the stairs and hurried to meet him, together with half a dozen other people, Ampelio included.
“A scout,” he heard the sentry say in broken pants.
“Asares?” Ampelio asked. The exhausted man nodded once, and silence fell upon the small crowd.
“Move along, I can’t see--let me pass, would you? Come on!”
Leo ploughed through them and emerged between Evandro and Ampelio. Her mohawk was stiff with dust and sweat, her face smeared with dirt.
“So? What’s happening?” she asked, clapping her hands on her thighs.
“They’re coming,” Ampelio whispered. Leo, unimpressed, nodded.
“Just as expected. When?”
“Their scout is one hour at most from here. The rest of the army follows close,” the man rasped. “The queen’s with them”.
Leo’s throat jumped as she swallowed. She looked up at Evandro, and some of the distrust was gone. She clearly didn’t like him, but Evandro was glad to see she was ready to ask for his opinion.
“How much time do we need?” he asked.
“We’re almost ready. Most of the charges are in position, I only need to unroll the last part of the fuse, but…”
“Do it. Our time has come.”
“I’ll go call Gaiane,” Ampelio said. He gave Evandro a completely unnecessary but very appreciated rub on the back and bolted away.
The tired horseman received a dose of water and disappeared in the ruins with the others, and Evandro was left with Leo.
“I should go,” she said.
“You’re smarter than I thought,” he blurted out as she walked away.
“I know, and I didn’t need your acknowledgement,” she grinned, but then added: “Thanks, anyway.”
“If we make it through…”
“Later. I have a fuse to set.” She waved him goodbye and ran through the fake graves punctuating the field.
Evandro climbed his way back on the walls, and in less than an hour the Asares scout appeared in the distance. Impossible to miss, with a horse too good to be one of the rebels’.
The figure trotted to the field, but after a quick glance turned around and back into the woods.
Ligeia had listened to Evandro’s advice and kept in the safety of the underground fortress. Her face was too easy to recognize for her own good.
A rustling came from under him by the main gate. Evandro stuck his head out of the battlements and looked down.
The white shock of Gaiane’s dress stood out against the shadows and dirt of the ruins. He hurried to join her, and when he got to the gate he halted and took a step back.
Leo was holding her close, whispering to her ear and kissing her brow.
He really didn’t want to intrude, but he couldn’t ignore the words.
“You’ll be great,” Leo said, and Gaiane took a deep breath. The fabric of her gown was plain flax, the skirt a little too long for her, but the way she held her head high, with her black hair flowing down her back, made her look regal indeed.
“I wish you could be with me…”
“Better not, you will need to use your magic. But I’ll be watching and cheering for you.”
Gaiane took Leo’s face in her hands and tilted her head slowly. Evandro respectfully looked away, but couldn’t suppress a surge of tenderness.
Those two girls truly deserved a happy ending.
He waited a little, and when he looked up again they were still holding hands, but he didn’t feel so indiscreet anymore.
He joined them and bowed, ignoring their b
lush.
“Are you ready, princess?”
“Ready as I can be.”
“Remember: you must stand before the closest mound of dirt. I will ignite the fuse the moment they charge, and you will need to get up a protection barrier or whatever. And don’t move, whatever happens don’t go to them. You’ll have but a second, maybe less.”
Gaiane stopped Leo with a nod.
“You told me this all already. I have a good memory, you know?”
“Yeah, but I’m terrified and going through the whole process helps a little. It will be loud, and messy, and if the smoke clears and they’re still there just… run, I guess?” Leo turned to Evandro, who pressed his lips in a line.
“I’ll have archers ready. They won’t win,” he reassured her, but Gaiane shook her head.
“They won’t take me alive,” she corrected him. Horrible words, coming from such a young voice; Gaiane sounded so serious and cold that nobody dared to contradict her. “I’m going.” Gaiane said. She let go of Leo’s hands and walked out of the gate. The white trail of her dress swept behind her, and the refugees took a step back to let her pass. More than one saluted her.
Leo’s breath was uneven. Evandro tilted his head toward hers.
“I’m going up the eastern tower to watch out for the situation. It should be distant enough for you not to interact with Gaiane’s power. Ampelio will join us, I think. Do you want to come, too?”
“I don’t need…” A sigh, and she rubbed her eyes. “Yes. Thank you.”
They climbed their way up the tower in silence. Ampelio arrived a little later, and his serious face made him look younger and vulnerable.
Evandro bared his sword. For himself, mostly, to remind himself that he was a knight doing the right thing. For his companions, too. For protection.
Gaiane was a slender, pale shadow among the dark tombs, cold and distant.
Leo closed her eyes and muttered a silent prayer.
“Fuck,” Ampelio gasped. Evandro shot to the grate on the battlements and stared into the distance.
White banners. Horses--twenty. More, maybe--silk and steel lining against the edge of the woods on top of the hill.
“That banner…” The finger Ampelio was pointing at the troops approaching trembled.
“The queen’s,” Evandro finished for him. “Our sentry was right.”
A horn blew somewhere down in the city.
It began.
* * *
…
* * *
I won’t cry.
Gaiane couldn’t breathe. The lip caught between her teeth throbbed, a drop of sweat rolled slowly down her spine.
In the still summer air, dust rose in clouds where the hooves stomped down the slope.
The ground trembled.
I won’t cry.
She stared at the front line. Soldiers she didn’t know, nameless people in shining armor coming for her.
She’d never seen that many horses, a wall of muscles and manes rolling steadily toward Nikaia. She swallowed, but her mouth was parched and tasted like dust and blood.
Her eyes, though, were dry and went to the woman at the center of the formation.
Look at her. Don’t look at the charges. Head high, don’t let them see.
The queen. Cibele.
Gaiane let out her breath in short, shallow pants, but otherwise didn’t move. She let them approach, eyes locked with her mother.
The horses stomped on the freshly dug graves, and soon they marched among them.
Gaiane rattled off a wordless prayer in her mind. Twenty feet from her, the contingent stopped.
“Princess Gaiane. We’ve come to rescue you,” Diocle said. The ride had ruffled his hair, and there was stubble on his tan face. He was smiling.
She owed the man her existence, but she couldn’t call him her father.
She didn’t move, seeking her mother again.
Cibele wasn’t unaffected by the ordeal. Dark circles under her eyes, a new kind of pallor on her face.
When she spoke, Gaiane almost forgot her determination.
“Gaiane, my child--I was so worried for you!” She slid from her horse and trotted forward, but Diocle stopped her with his arm. They exchanged a long, hard stare, but the queen stopped at his side. A deep breath, and she focused on Gaiane once more. “Please. I need to hold you. Talk to me, my baby, I…”
“Why?”
Gaiane’s voice surprised her, too. Soft, sharp, trembling like the tears veiling her eyes.
“What do you mean, love?” Cibele smiled and took a hesitant step forth. Diocle dismounted and blocked her way again, whispering something Gaiane couldn’t understand.
“You used me. As a weapon, as a threat. And people died because of this!”
“You’re obviously shocked by what you’ve been through, and I won’t hold your words against you. It’s all forgiven, just come,” she said, extending her hand and flexing her fingers.
But Gaiane shook her head.
“No. I made my choice, and I won’t come back to Zafiria.”
Cibele clenched her jaws. Her voice was as sweet and emotional as before, her hand still outstretched.
“Gaiane, you must come back. Your people need you, I need you, and out there it’s not safe for you, I…”
“It’s not safe, you say? But those you branded as enemies welcomed me, fed me and took care of me, while you would only lock me up in that tower once more! I’m done, mother: I won’t come with you!”
She took half a step back, and Spirits knew how much she wanted to turn around and run to Nikaia. But she followed the protocol and stood there.
“Please, child. You must come. Your place is with your family…”
“My place is in a cage! A gilded one, I’ll give you that, but a cage nonetheless!” she lashed out. Magic made the hairs on her arms stand up, and small flickers of blue light sparkled between her fingers. In response, a surge of power throbbed from the group of soldiers.
They were ready to attack her.
“No, calm down, everyone. Diocle, let me go,” Cibele said, but Diocle shook his head and stood by her side. Her eyes sent darts of anger at him, and Gaiane felt a sting of satisfaction for her frustration.
“Is that your problem, Gaiane?” the queen said after a moment, her voice forcibly calm. “We can sort things out. You will live in the castle with us, and not in your tower anymore. I promise, but come, I beg you.”
“I don’t believe you. You leashed me, imprisoned me and exploited me when you needed it the most, and for what?” She gestured at the barren lands around her. “For this! To conquer a land and make it your slave! Do you know how many people died here today?”
“I didn’t…”
“Look around! Count the graves! Hadn’t it been for your… your warmongering madness, those people could’ve had proper care and survived!”
A small lie, ignited by the fuel of her terrified indignation. It worked, apparently, because Cibele stiffened and straightened her back.
“They are our enemy, Gaiane. Yours, too. You shouldn’t care about them.”
“But I do, because their misery is my fault!”
“Who put this nonsense in your silly little head? Come on, enough of this. Come, and I’ll ignore your ramblings.”
“How many times do I have to say no in order for you to accept it?”
“Gaiane, don’t make me come over there. You wouldn’t like it…”
“Are you so ready to waste the last of your power on your own daughter? Knowing I could easily deflect your spells? Be careful of what you think of, mother!”
The rippling of magic over her arms rose in intensity. Gaiane bared her teeth and stood her ground; the tears beading in her lashes reflected her anger, now. Not her fear. Not her pain.
Diocle grinned. He looked so awfully calm, with his dimples and his aquiline nose. He lifted his hand, and someone shuffled in the background.
“I would never hurt you, but you must under
stand.”
Cibele looked away as a horse was brought forth, and Gaiane staggered back. Whoever the person on the saddle was, she didn’t want to see them. They were too thin and haggard, and their dirty feet, so black their soles looked almost charred, left reddish marks on the horse’s white sides. Their hands were bound, and a sack was pulled over their head.
“Princess, I think you’ll want to follow us back home,” Diocle said. One of his guards pushed the prisoner off the horse, and the faceless person flopped on the ground with a grunt.
Gaiane’s scalp tingled.
“Who’s that?” she asked, all the righteous fury gone from her tone. She was shaking.
“An old acquaintance of ours.” Diocle grabbed the sack and pulled it away.
“No!”
She couldn’t stop her scream. Alcmena flopped on her side, chuckling through her broken teeth.
“You want your friend back? You come to Zafiria. Or else…”
“Diocle, shut that foul mouth of yours, that’s not going to work!” Cibele hissed. She took another step forward, and this time nobody stopped her.
Gaiane couldn’t see her.
Alcmena. Her dear, beloved Alcmena. The blood was the last of her concerns, as were the bruises and the angry red marks on her withered face. Her hair, shorn close to her head in patches, could’ve grown back.
Her eyes, though, showed the real damage. Blank, even the puffed, blackened left one. There was no life in them, and Gaiane clasped her hands on her mouth.
“What did you do to her?” she whimpered. Alcmena was staring at her, laughing and convulsing lightly on the ground. She couldn’t recognize her pupil.
“We had to interrogate her to make sure you were alive. To find you, Gaiane. Your escape caused so much suffering, can’t you see?” Cibele said.
Gaiane’s stomach, empty as it was, clenched. She retched and coughed, shaking wildly.
“But you can still save her. Come with me, daughter. Come home. We can cure her, and she’ll be alright. I promise.”
I promise.
I promise.
Hollow words, as hollow as Alcmena’s eyes. The real pain was inside, and there was no cure for a shattered mind.
The Other Side of Magic Page 30
