The Gifted Sisters and the Golden Mirror

by Rachel Crist

  Two years ago, I was summoned by the king for something I had done. When I arrived, he had Zyrik sitting on his lap. I remember Zyrik’s precious smile. But he didn’t know what his father had in store. Two Silent Watchers held me down as the king ran a sharp blade along the inside of Zyrik’s arm. No matter how much Zyrik cried or tried to escape, the king held firm. I had to stand there and watch blood drip down his arm, past his chubby little fingers, and down to the floor. He screamed my name while tears streamed down his face. I couldn’t save him. He hasn’t spoken a single word since that day. His last word I recall vividly; he was screaming my name.

  “I am sorry you had to be there to see your father be mean.”

  Zyrik sneaks a glance up to my face. He rolls back his sleeve and points to his scar, and then points to me.

  “No, I don’t plan on letting your father hurt me. It might seem that way, but I will not allow it.”

  Zyrik grins.

  I know he doesn’t fully understand all that’s transpired, but that’s fine with me. I would rather he not know.

  “Let’s get you back to your room. Is that okay, Little Rik?”

  He smiles and nods.

  By the time we get to his room, he’s asleep in my arms. I tuck him into his bed and kiss his forehead.

  “Love you always.”

  He doesn’t move. I admire his long black eyelashes and his dimpled chin. I really hate how this little boy is my number one weakness. Seeing him suffer at my expense is a horrible way to watch him grow up.

  So many times I’ve wished to run away with him. But fear grips me each time. Should we be caught, who knows how far the king would push his punishment. I shudder.

  I kiss him gently on the head, and leave him to his peaceful dreams.

  Looking out the windows on the way to my chambers, the sun is high in the sky. Down below, travelers and merchants move back and forth through Falcons Pass. The Pass was carved between two massive mountains. On the other side is the capitol city of Dryden, named after the Guardian of our kingdom. Though it is so close, I’ve never been there. Nate and Karl tell me I’m not missing much. “Only thieves and cheats litter that pisshole city,” they say.

  Upon entering my room, my fireplace is kindled. And it shouldn’t be. I crouch low and unsheathe a blade. I survey the room and I hear a sound coming from my washroom. Slowly, I sneak across the room.

  The door opens and out steps a tall muscular figure. I sweep my leg out, knocking him to the ground. Quickly, I straddle the intruder and place my blade at his throat.

  “Holy hell, Vera! It’s just me.”

  “Marcus?”

  Sheathing my blade, I remain straddling him. He scowls.

  “Oh, don’t you get grumpy. It’s not my fault you let me sneak up on you.”

  Marcus rolls his eyes. He bucks me forward and wraps his muscular arms around me. My face stops inches in front of his and I’m now fully aware of his bare chest and wet brown hair.

  I attempt to sit up, but he locks his hold on me. His lips form a half smirk. I lick his nose and he quickly releases me.

  “Aw, gross.”

  I push myself off him, and stand. As he wipes his face, I walk past him and close myself inside the washroom. I hear him mutter something, but I don’t quite make out what it is. Something about me not being ladylike.

  I unlace my corset and peel off my threads. My nose tingles at the smell of my own sweat. Reaching back to my braid, I loosen it free, and remove the red band from around my head; I was denied a red mask so I wear the band for my own personal status among the assassins.

  After I wash the grime away, I stand in front of the full-length mirror. My eyes gaze over my scarred body. A bitterness fills my mouth. I don’t remember a time when my body had none of these marks.

  Of course, scars in our kingdom are worn proudly. They show others what you have survived. But for me, I despise most of them. Only because most of mine have came from the king.

  It took a long time for me to let Marcus finally see me. He started to romance me over a year ago. I reminded him many times of the danger that even touching me would bring, but he insisted and eventually won me over.

  We weren’t as emotionally close as I was with my best friends, but we had our own twisted relationship, focused momentarily on our lustful desires.

  I throw on a nightshirt and enter my chambers. Marcus lounges on my bed, still half naked. He’s propped on his elbow, watching me alluringly. I can’t help but stare at his perfectly sculpted body.

  I jump up next to him, and he moves his free arm around me. “Nice fight today,” he says.

  I roll my eyes. “Kah is a force to be reckoned with, it was pure hatred that made Ryker choose us to fight. I hate him.”

  “He’s a prick, that’s what he is.”

  I nod in agreement.

  Marcus rolls over on his back and takes me with him. Pushing myself up, my heart quickens as I find myself straddling him once again.

  Resting his hands on my thighs, he grazes his thumbs in circular motions, sending tingles down my body. I begin to slowly move on top of him. Feeling his reaction, I playfully smile. Marcus moves the hem of my nightdress up and rests his hands near my bottom. His brow raise, as he notices I’m not wearing any undergarments.

  He pulls my head down and grazes my lips with his. I gently bite down on his bottom lip, making him react even more. He crushes his mouth to mine, and our bodies press firmly together.

  Desire radiates between us, as we adjust ourselves and become one. This is exactly what I have been needing. A moan escapes my lips, and I let it push my problems away, allowing myself to only be in this moment.

  When we finally succumb to our passion, a thrill runs through the entire length of my body.

  Marcus puts his arms around me, and I lean in and kiss him. Our breathing slows and I try to hold onto this serenity before I roll off him and move to his side.

  Marcus takes a deep breath. “Have any plans for your birthday?”

  I stare into his face. He can’t be serious. The corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk.

  “Funny.” I punch him on the arm.

  A knock sounds at the door.

  We both bolt up. Marcus cannot be here! I point to beneath my bed, and he jumps down and scrambles underneath. I get down off the bed, and walk slowly to the door, adjusting my nightdress.

  On the other side of the door is Bellek. He sweeps past me, and enters my chamber. He looks around swiftly, and turns to face me.

  “May I help you?” I ask.

  “I just found out about the binding contract. I tried to reason with him. But it’s too late. I came to beg you not to do anything rash. It will all work out.”

  Anger sweeps through me. All I need right now is Marcus. I don’t need to be reminded how much my life sucks. Can’t I be happy for one second without having someone else confirm my reality?

  “I am very aware of my fate, Bellek. I had no other choice but to sign it. And I’ll never do anything to jeopardize Zyrik’s life, so anything rash is out of the question.”

  I hear Marcus bump the bed and my heart stops. I pray Bellek hasn’t noticed, but it’s too late. He cocks his head to the side and his eyes snap to mine. I cower slightly when I see the onset of his rage.

  “You play with fire, Vera.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He steps closer to me, speaking in a low voice.

  “Believe me, I want you happy. You deserve happiness, but Marcus is not part of it.”

  My eyes widen.

  Fixing me with his steely grey eyes, he turns and leaves. I hear Marcus drag himself out from under my bed.

  “I’d best leave,” he mumbles.

  I close my eyes. I listen to him gather his things, he rushes by and kisses me on the cheek—then he’s gone. I breathe in deeply and slowly let it out. I really can’t catch a break.

  When nightfall comes, I fall asleep unsure what the morning will bring. As so many times bef
ore, I dread waking up to see if my fate is sealed.

  5

  Golden Mirror

  Midnight comes and goes. Livia and Vera both go to sleep on the eve of their sixteenth birthday, neither knowing if their gift will awaken inside them.

  Both of their dreams start off in blackness. Then a tiny bright light starts transforming in the distance, getting brighter and brighter until it comes upon them. Engulfing them.

  An explosion of color sparkles all around—whipping around like a soundless wind. When everything settles, a tall golden mirror stands before them.

  Not just any golden mirror. But an antique mirror with a gold frame that twists around intricately portrayed details of timeless, ancient, gilded work.

  They admire long flowing white gowns that feather down to their feet, disappearing into a fog below. Their long black hair hangs down their backs in soft waves, and each admire her polished look. But it isn’t until they see their starkly bright, violet eyes that they see the beauty they now possess.

  Stunned by their reflections, one sister brings her hand up to her face but notices her reflection does not mirror her movement. When her eyes shift to what she thinks are her own, she quickly realizes they are someone else's.

  Who is this person inside the mirror, someone who is her, yet isn’t?

  A purple and blue mist gathers around each of them. The golden mirror fades from sight. The mist soaks into their skin and each feel a tingle that covers her entire body, then all ends with a thunderous jolt.

  Their dream begins to fade and turns back into darkness. Each is unsure what just happened.

  6

  Livia

  My eyes fly open. Morning light begins to creep through the canvas flaps. A subtle buzz radiates over me and a strange pulse flows through my veins. The golden mirror, the mist—was it all real?

  Throwing my furs off, I rush to the opening, and stumble over our packed supplies.

  “Amah!”

  Amah rushes over from feeding Rosie.

  “En Oli, are you…”

  She falters slightly before climbing up and grabbing hold of my face.

  “Well, I’ll be. It’s happened.” Her eyes roam over me.

  “How can you tell?” I ask.

  Amah promptly goes into the back of the wagon. I hear her rummaging around. What is she doing? Finally, she pops back out and hands me her hand mirror. Confused, I take it and peer at my reflection.

  “Holy Maker! My eyes!”

  “I can no longer deny the prophecy. It’s true after all. I never imagined I’d see the magic return. But here it is. My En Oli, a true heir, and a true joy.” She takes my hands.

  A tingling sensation shoots through me and I jerk my hands back.

  “Livia?”

  “When you grabbed my hands, I felt something.”

  Her brow rises. “Try again.”

  I take her hands hesitantly. This time when the tingling comes, I don’t let go. An amused smile lightens Amah’s features, and I know she feels something too. Curious, I close my eyes.

  My world vanishes. No sound. Only darkness. Amah’s hands are luminous in front of me, floating in the air by themselves. I notice the many layers. Her hands are translucent. I see everything.

  A red hue pulsates from the joints of her hands. Something pulls me along, pushes to reach out. As if knowing what to do, I sweep the redness away. A golden tint takes its place.

  I open my eyes.

  Amah inspects her hands, spreading her fingers out in front of her.

  “Did you feel it?” I ask.

  She nods slowly. “It felt warm, almost hot. Then the feeling vanished, and there was nothing—no warmth, no pain.”

  “My gift is healing! The gift of Guardian Pynth!”

  For so long I’ve dreamed of this, and now it’s my reality.

  Amah beams. “Knowing your parents didn’t die in vain helps lift some of the sorrow I’ve carried all these years.” She shakes her head in giddy disbelief. “Happy Birthday, En Oli.”

  She grabs the reins, laughing to herself. This is surreal. Magic is back. And in me!

  “I’m glad you decided for us to go to Pynth. I definitely need Regent Grif’s protection now. When word gets out, King Kgar will send more than just one assassin after me.”

  “Yes, he will. We must keep you hidden as best we can until we reach the city. Trust no one.”

  “Except for Annie. Right?”

  “Yes, except for Annie. She’ll be as vigilant as I am to make sure you are kept safe.”

  A light breeze pulls some of my long hair across my face, and I brush it away. Amah once told me that Annie was the only person she could think to take us in those many years ago. They grew up in an orphanage together and always relied on one another. So when Amah escaped with me, she remembered that Annie had moved to Kale. Fortunately, Annie knew of an abandoned cottage out in the pines. For Annie, too, knew the danger I was in.

  “Do the people of Pynth know I’m alive?”

  “They do. The Regent celebrates your birthday every year in your honor and in hope for your return.”

  “He does?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Will he and the people expect me to become queen immediately?”

  “It’s not my place to say. But I’ve prepared you, so you’ll be fine.”

  “Prepared me? You haven’t taught me anything about governing a kingdom.”

  “I’ve taught you history.”

  “History? How can history help me?”

  “History is the foundation you need. So you might learn from past mistakes. It’s important to learn how the kingdoms trade among themselves. Or learning the different seasons in which our kingdom thrives. Believe it or not, En Oli, but those history lessons will come in very handy when you sit before the council and discuss matters at hand.”

  I think back to all my boring lessons. That the West relies on Northern furs to get us through our winters, and the North relies on our farming and herbs for their healers.

  At the time I couldn’t have cared less. I was just a girl in seclusion, far away from the worries of court. We hunted and farmed for ourselves. The items we bought in Kale—I never gave thought to where they came from.

  “What about the people?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “How am I supposed to rule a people when I’ve no experience with them?”

  “You’ve been around people.”

  “Amah. Seriously. All you’ve ever allowed me to do is sit in the corner of the tavern and watch. You never let anyone speak to me. My people skills are lacking.”

  “Your skill of reading people will be useful. And talking will come easily enough; you haven’t stopped since we left.”

  My unapologetic scowl makes her laugh. She points up ahead. “Look.”

  Beyond the trees, a haze of smoke comes curling out from behind a stand of pines in the distance. The town of Kale.

  My feet begin their ritual bounce against the foot rail. Soon we will be enjoying the warming comforts of Annie’s food.

  My all-time favorite dish is crowberry pie. The berries come from the Northern Kingdom, and Annie has them delivered every year for my birthday. I can’t wait!

  I discovered these small blue berries the same time I discovered walking. A crate of them had just arrived, and Amah set me down for only a moment to help Annie with something. I walked over and stuffed my chubby cheeks with those sweetest of all berries. Annie couldn’t even be mad. The blue stains all over my face were punishment enough, and she and Amah still laugh at the memory.

  Ever since that day, Annie has made time for this one thing for me on my special day. She cares for me as much as Amah. I know if anything should befall Amah, Annie would be the next best thing.

  We come to the first cottage on the outskirts of Kale. Looking past it, cottages dot the snow-covered hills, sitting between trees poking up like jagged green spikes. It’s a beautiful scene.r />
  Amah clicks her tongue, speeding Rosie up. As I watch Rosie’s slender limbs grace down the road, I can’t help but admire how her white coat blends in perfectly with the scenic view.

  As we enter the main road into town, not a single mark disturbs the white blanket on the dirt road. With dusk quickly approaching, shops along the road have already closed for the day. It’s as if the town has been put to bed, hushed down by the weather and the depleting light.

  Bear Horn Inn sits at the end of the road, its perimeters lit a buttery glow from lanterns hung outside between its windows. The inn is three stories, its wood a flawless white pine. Usually the place is busy, but now, on the first day of winter, it seems unusually quiet.

  Kale is a diverse village, and people from all over travel through it. Merchants often set up stalls to sell their wares. I loved it when Amah would take me with her to do her shopping. It wasn’t often, but those are times I will always remember.

  I remember one time when a large caravan came through with brightly colored wagons. They had scarves made of silk and beaded jewelry fit for any young girl who wanted to feel beautiful. One of them being me.

  No matter how hard I begged, Amah refused to buy me a single item from the long-haired women. It was the first time I ever thought of running away; I was tired of the tight hold she had on me. Now I understand why she’s been so strict.

  Amah pulls around in back, where a lantern swings from a barn’s entrance. A young boy comes out, the puffs of his breath rushing out like smoke from a chimney.

  In a hushed tone, Amah tells me to stay covered. I pull the hood of my cloak over my head and bring it forward slightly to hide my face.

  He signals for us to follow him into the large covered barn. Instantly thick walls block the frigid evening air. He unhooks Rosie, then leads her over to some fresh hay and water. He doesn’t look familiar and I wonder when Annie hired him on.

  When he comes back over, I notice a face covered with freckles and ears too big for his head. He pushes long curly black hair away from his face, and peers up to me.