Prophecy of the Sisters

by Michelle Zink

  Turning in a circle, I peer into the distance, trying to get my bearings. I cannot know for certain, but something about the rise to my left is familiar. I am trying to decide what to do next, when something catches my eye. Something small and moving toward me. I squint into the distance, and as I watch, the thing becomes clearer, its slow and graceful gait marking it as a person.

  A regular person heading my way.

  There is no point standing and staring. Whoever it is will reach me soon enough. I begin walking, making my way toward the figure, now considerably closer. At first I think it is Sonia. She is the only recognizable person I have seen in my travels, unless one counts the Souls. But as the figure draws nearer, first close enough that I can make out her gown and then even nearer so that I can see her face, I realize it is Alice.

  I stop walking, not eager to speed along whatever has brought us both to this dead place. She makes her way toward me until she stands directly in front of me. A smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and I have no doubt who is in charge, who has called me to this meeting place.

  “Surprised?”

  “Not really.” I shrug. “Who else would I meet here?”

  Her smiles spreads, and for a moment she looks just like the excited girl who used to clap her hands when Father brought us presents from his many trips. “Why, it is possible to meet all kinds of people… all kinds of things here, Lia!”

  “Why have you called me here, Alice?”

  Her smile fades as she notices the ribbons on my wrist. Gone is the soft voice from the stairs. Her face takes on the stony edge to which I have become accustomed. “Why will you not use the medallion for its intended purpose, Lia? Why do you fight the will of the prophecy, the honored role that is meant to be yours?”

  A slightly insane laugh escapes from my throat. “Why? Why, indeed, Alice? Shall I throw caution to the wind, then, and let whatever wants to come back with me, through me, come back?”

  Her voice rises. “Why not? Why must you make everything so difficult? I’ve already told you that you shall be protected. Do you think the Souls will harm the champion of their King? What do you have to fear?”

  “My fear is not for myself, Alice. What of the world that is left when the Beast reigns? What good is our safety if those we love are left to live in a world of darkness?”

  “Samael has been stranded in the Otherworlds for centuries. He will richly reward the one that brings him forth at last. Anything you want will be yours. You will be treated as a queen. It is the purpose for which you were born.” The pools of her eyes shimmer with the murky depth of the river.

  “Perhaps you have it wrong, Alice. Perhaps it is your purpose to act as Guardian, as you were born to do. Perhaps it is our purpose to work in concert. Working together, we might secure a peaceful world. We might find an end to the prophecy once and for all. Wouldn’t you rather be party to the good in it?”

  By my words do not have the intended effect. Her face only hardens further as she continues. “Is that what you want, Lia? To be party to an ideal of good that no one shall ever even know? To risk your life for it? Do you think it is enough? Because it is not. It is not enough. Not for me. We can have authority no one in this world has ever had, not since Maari, the last sister who was wise enough to take her power when she had the chance.”

  I cannot hide my surprise.

  “What? Didn’t you think I knew? Didn’t you think I knew the story that belongs to us, to our mother?”

  “I wasn’t sure how much you knew. The book…”

  She laughs again, pacing in front of me, although her footsteps make no tracks through the long grass. “The book!” she mocks, stepping closer. “Do you think that is the only way of knowing the story? Because it is not, Lia. I have other ways of knowing things.”

  She walks around me so that her voice comes from behind. It is a ploy, a way to unnerve me. I remain facing forward, willing myself not to whirl and face her.

  “Samael and his Souls summoned me long ago, Lia. They whispered to me in the cradle as they whisper to me still. It is not our mother’s voice I first heard, nor even yours, my twin. It is the call of the Souls that I first remember. Perhaps they knew of your… weakness. Perhaps they anticipated the confused loyalty brought on by the mistake of our birth. Or perhaps they simply wanted to be certain, certain that one sister would work to their end.” She has made her way back to my face, but she turns and faces the empty field in front of us, opening her arms as if to encompass it all. “They taught me everything, Lia. How to travel, how to summon others into travel…” She turns to face me once again, and I swear that it is love I hear in her voice. “Everything.”

  While I have been taught nothing, I think.

  I remember Sonia’s words, her assertion that those in the Otherworlds cannot intervene in ours. And then I realize that the Souls have not broken this ancient law. By teaching Alice how to use her gifts, the gifts with which she was born, her destiny has still been her own. The choice has still been hers. That she has made it, that she has chosen so easily the way of evil, can be blamed on no one but my sister.

  Not even the Souls.

  Alice takes advantage of my silence, trying to affect the soft and gentle voice of my sister. “You only make things more difficult for yourself, Lia. Samael will have his way in the end. He will have his way as you open your arms, or he will force his way through them, but you are no match for such power. Will you not take the easier road? It will all end the same, so what does it matter?”

  What does it matter? The words echo through the fields of stiff, brown grass.

  I see my mother, letting go of all that she loved to be free of the legacy that was hers. I see the sisters after us, my daughters or Alice’s. And then I see Aunt Virginia, raising Alice and me, watching all these years. Watching to see who would be the Guardian, who the Gate. These things come to me in a flash, until I am left with nothing but the lamenting wind.

  “No.” I can barely hear the words myself, they are uttered so softly, and Alice leans toward me, her faltering smile proof that she has heard me after all.

  “What did you say, Lia?” She is giving me a chance, a chance to pretend I did not say it, to say something different.

  I clear my throat to be sure there is no mistaking my answer. “I said no. The choice is mine to make, and I am making it. I will put an end to it for good.”

  She glares at me, unmoving, before the sneaky smile returns to her lips. “And how do you propose to do that, Lia? Even if you sacrifice yourself like our dear mother did, it will only continue, on and on, mother to daughter and sister to sister. No, the only way out for you is to give in to the Souls. They are quite patient, you know.”

  I hear Aunt Virginia’s words once more — He will find your weakness. He will lie in wait for you while you sleep. He will use those you love most against you.

  I shake my head. “I would rather die.” And I am surprised at my conviction. Surprised to find I actually mean it.

  Alice leans even closer, so close I can feel her breath, warm on my face. “There are worse things than death, Lia. I thought you understood that.”

  She leans back, staring me down. And then I hear them coming.

  They beat a path across the sky, at first sounding like the distant crack of thunder but soon growing to the terrifying crescendo of a thousand hooves, all racing toward the place where Alice and I stand. When I look upward, the sky has blackened. The wind, before an eerie groan, is now a roaring monster, whipping our hair around our faces so that we have to pull the strands away in order to see.

  “You see, Lia, you may be the Angel, but I can summon the Souls at will. They know the sister who remains loyal to the prophecy. They come to me because I am the rightful Gate.” Her voice rises triumphant over the howling wind. “We will work together, the Souls and I, for as long as it takes. I wish it were not so, Lia. But you have made your choice, and now I must make mine.”

  Even as the Souls converge
in the sky above, a faraway part of me thinks it is not possible, that I will be protected as I was the last time after my sea flight. But my helplessness cannot be denied. I am powerless to move. The strand connecting me to my body, so present during my other travels, feels as if it has been severed, leaving me adrift in the bleak Otherworld.

  This is what it must feel like to be detained. To be separated from one’s body. To be taken to the Void. The thought comes to me from a last remnant of my rational mind.

  The sky darkens further over my head, swirling until I feel I will be sucked into its blackness. The last strands of strength seep from my body. I want to slump to the ground and sleep, only sleep, as I slip into beguiling apathy.

  “Lia!” A voice calls to me from the fields in the distance. I lift my head, trying to place the familiar voice. “Li-a!”

  In the distance, another figure flies toward us, calling my name. Alice looks as puzzled as I, staring at the approaching figure with curiosity and annoyance. Even the darkness above us seems to waver.

  The figure approaches faster than would be possible in any other place, traveling the fields so quickly the face is a blur. It is only moments before she slams into me, shoving me with a force so tremendous that it knocks the breath out of me, that I see Aunt Virginia’s face.

  I do not have time to speak, to thank her or worry for her safety. I try to reach out, to grab her by the hand, to take her back with me, but it is no use. The moment she touches me there is a painful tug on the strand, and I am suddenly pulled, back and back. Alice and Aunt Virginia and the darkness above them become smaller and smaller as I return the way I came, over the dead landscape below.

  24

  “Lia?” The knock is soft. “Are you awake?”

  I pull myself upright in bed, relieved to hear Aunt Virginia outside my door. Whatever happened in the Otherworlds, she has survived it.

  “Yes, come in.”

  She steps hesitantly into the room, closing the door behind her and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. She doesn’t say anything right away, choosing her words before finally speaking. “You must learn the ways of the Otherworlds before you travel, Lia.”

  I nod. “I know. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to go. Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I find myself there through no will of my own.”

  “They summon you, Lia. They know they must get to you now, before you become surer, before you establish more control over your powers, before you find all the keys.” Her face is grave. “In time, you shall have more control over the circumstance of your travel, though you may always be vulnerable to the will of the Souls.”

  I nod. Her face is haggard, the fine wrinkles about her eyes deeper than they were only a day ago. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”

  She smiles faintly, the story of her exhaustion written in her eyes. “I’m all right. I am not as young as I once was, nor as powerful. There is more than one reason each new generation must assume responsibility for the prophecy.”

  “How did you… how did you make them stop?”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t. Not really. I shocked your soul into reconnecting with the strand, with the astral chord, and then held them at bay with the little power I have, just long enough for you to escape their grasp. I was once the Guardian, you know.” She says this with a trace of pride.

  “So that is how it is, then? Once the next Guardian and Gate have been dispatched, their predecessors hold little dominion over the Otherworlds?”

  She looks up, trying to find a way to explain. “In a manner of speaking, yes, though we all retain some measure of our gifts even after our time has passed. Some hold more power than others, but I cannot say why it is true. Your Great-Aunt Abigail, my mother’s sister, was one of the most powerful Guardians in history. She was able to do things… to battle the Souls with strength that is still discussed today among those in the Otherworlds.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She left.” Her voice is faint. “When your grandmother… when her sister passed, Aunt Abigail simply vanished.”

  I’m not sure what to say to such an odd piece of family history, so I turn to things more immediate. “I’m sorry you had to come, Aunt Virginia… that you had to put yourself in danger. I thought I was safe… the last time…”

  A look of alarm settles onto her face. “The last time?”

  I chew my lip, feeling guilty that I have not shared everything with Aunt Virginia sooner. That I have not trusted her as I should.

  “The last time they came for me they stopped.”

  She shakes her head. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I didn’t know I was traveling then. I thought they were giving chase through the skies of my dream. Sonia was the one who warned me. If not for her, I would not have stood a chance. Even so, they were near enough to detain me, but something stopped them at the last moment. It was as if they couldn’t touch me, however much they desired it. I thought it might be the same this time. That’s why I didn’t make my way home with more urgency.” I shrug. “By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late.”

  Her face goes very still. “You must be mistaken. What you have described… well, it could only be so through a show of forbidden magic.”

  “Forbidden magic?” The words make my skin grow cold. “I know no magic.”

  Her breath comes so fast I can see the rise and fall of it in her chest as she stares at the wall behind my bed. She stands suddenly, looking at me with stark fear.

  “Lia. Get up and help me.”

  “Will you not tell me why we are doing this, Aunt Virginia?”

  We have moved the small night tables aside to give us room and are on either side of my heavy bed, preparing to slide it off the rug.

  Aunt Virginia meets my eyes over the bed cover, her hair falling loose around her green dressing gown.

  “Not yet. I don’t know if I’m right. Besides, we needn’t move it all the way. Just a little. Just enough so that we can pull back the rug a bit.”

  “All right. Just enough. Let’s go, then. You push and I’ll pull.”

  It is not very heavy, not as heavy as I expect it to be with its great carved posts and headboard. We move it off the rug at a slant, giving us access to the corner. Aunt Virginia bends to it, reaching for the corner quickly, before she pulls her hand back as if reconsidering.

  “What is it?”

  She raises her face to meet my gaze. “I don’t want to be right. Not about this.”

  She takes one audible breath, as if gathering her strength. And then she pulls back the rug, gasping when she sees the thing hidden there. I do not understand the symbol under the rug, the thing carved into the wood of the floor, but even still, the site of it brings goose bumps to the skin of my arms and the back of my neck.

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  Aunt Virginia does not take her eyes off the mark on the floor. “It is… it was a spell. A spell cast to provide a cloak of protection around you while you sleep.” She looks up at me. “The circle is an ancient symbol of protection, Lia. If one is powerful enough, one can cast a spell that will ensure the protection of any within the circle’s bounds or keep out those one wishes to exclude.”

  Her words ring in my ears. I have a sudden recollection of Alice, sitting within the circle of the Dark Room in the dead of night. I remember my own helplessness in the face of it, my inability to cross the line of the circle’s edge. And then I hear Aunt Virginia’s words when talking about my mother: She was a Spellcaster.

  I tip my head to get a better look at the symbol. Even with only a portion of it exposed, it does not look like a circle to me. I say as much to Aunt Virginia, and she rises from the floor. She is trembling, shivering as if she is very cold, though the fire was stoked by Ivy less than an hour ago, and the room is warm.

  “That is because it is not a circle, Lia. Not anymore. Someone has reversed the spell. Someone has scratched through the circle and broken the spell of protection with wh
ich it was cast. Someone who wanted to leave you vulnerable while traveling the Otherworlds.”

  I feel her eyes on my face, but I dare not look at her for fear I will either weep or scream. The remnants of the circle itself are faded, carved by someone’s hand long ago. But the gouges that cross it — the scratch marks that defile it — they are recent, as fresh as the circle carved on the floor of the Dark Room.

  Aunt Virginia does not need to name the one who has done this, who has exposed me to so much danger. I focus my thoughts instead on the person who tried to protect me, on the one who would go to such trouble to ensure my safety.

  “Could my mother really have cast such a spell?”

  “She is the only one who had both the power to do it and nothing left to lose.” Aunt Virginia pulls something from a pocket in her dressing gown, holding it toward me. “I have long held this for you. She wrote it before… before she died. Perhaps I should have given it to you sooner. Perhaps I should have taught you the ways of the prophecy sooner. I only wanted you to be old enough, wise enough, to let the truth make you strong instead of letting it ruin you as it did her.”

  A cynical laugh escapes my throat. “I feel anything but wise, Aunt Virginia. Anything but strong.”

  She reaches out and pulls me into an embrace. “You are wiser than you believe, dear heart. And stronger than you know.” She looks back to the circle. “I am not a Spellcaster, Lia. And even if I were, I would not be permitted to reinstate the spell of protection.”

  “Then how did my mother… Wait.” I stop, remembering something. “You said the spell was forbidden.”

  Aunt Virginia nods, her face solemn in the half-light of the fire.

  “Who would forbid her to use the power that was hers when it seems I am prompted day by day to use the power I wish wasn’t mine at all?”

  She lowers herself to the bed, perching on its edge as she explains. “The Otherworlds have a system of justice, of checks and balances, just as ours does. Its rules might seem strange to those not accustomed to the unique aspects of that world, but they are rules nonetheless. Rules set by the Grigori.”