Isadora

by Charlotte McConaghy

  ‘Please don’t concern yourself with tact,’ I said.

  ‘Sorry. It’s true though.’

  I thought about arguing – shouldn’t I tell them I could climb? Or at least offer to go last, where I could take their weight? I had to have some sort of mental derangement because, instead of those simple statements, what came out of my mouth was: ‘Finn first, then Ava, me and Osric at the end. Happy? The weakling in skill and body will be safely in the middle where he can’t cause a fatal accident.’

  What is wrong with you.

  ‘Aw, Fal,’ Finn smiled. ‘We’re just trying to protect you from yourself.’

  ‘How generous.’

  We got into place.

  ‘One thing,’ Osric said before we began. ‘From this point, no magic. They’d definitely feel it.’

  ‘So if one of us falls –’ Finn started.

  ‘If it looks like one will dislodge the rest, we cut the rope and keep going,’ Ava said. ‘The mission is paramount.’

  There was silence.

  ‘De–pressing. Let’s go.’ Finn started scampering up the rocks and we had to yell at her to slow down.

  ‘How in gods’ names did that little messenger boy get down here on his own?’ Ava wondered at about the halfway point, as the sun reached its apex above. I almost didn’t hear her over the wind and the noise of everyone panting. The pack on my back, which had been laughably light hours earlier, was now suspiciously filled with lead.

  ‘Little can mean agile,’ Finn said cheerfully. She was perched on a precipice, waiting for us to scale our way up to her. ‘You’re doing surprisingly well, Fal,’ she added.

  I rolled my eyes.

  ‘No, seriously.’

  ‘Thank you. And thanks for the condescending surprise, too.’

  We stopped on the ledge to take a water break. There was enough room for us all to sit with our legs dangling over the edge. The view was magnificent from here, and seemed endless. Way out to sea I could see the horizon, blue on blue. Seagulls flew by our heads, squawking loudly, and the waves below were a rolling tumult of sound. If we fell from this height without magic it would be an instant goodnight.

  ‘Have I ever told you the story of the sea god and his bride?’ Finn asked.

  ‘No,’ Ava answered.

  ‘Wanna hear it?’

  ‘No,’ Osric answered while Ava and I said, ‘Yes.’

  Finn shot Osric a smug look and then launched into it, the cadences of her voice altering to become melodic. With every word she painted I felt myself slip further into the story.

  ‘One of the Vanir, Njörðr, was god of the sea and ancient beyond most of his kind. For all the millennia of his existence he had desired above all the salt of the ocean – he cared for naught else. But he was lonely, his only contact being with his age-old enemy, the war god himself. Far to the north in the snow that never melted, was the ice goddess, Skaði. She had a cold soul, and was fierce beyond reckoning. Seeking revenge for her slain father, Skaði strayed south to the pantheon of the gods and demanded that she be allowed a husband of her choice in redress for her loss. Thinking to choose Baldur, the largest and most brutal of gods – and so the only one she thought might survive in the north – Skaði searched for him in their midst. But instead she came upon Njörðr and was struck by an inexplicable love for him, and he for her. The two married, a more splendid wedding than any that had come before. But then it came time to decide where the couple would live. First they spent nine nights in the foreboding fortress of ice belonging to Skaði. That time, for Njörðr, was a nightmare. The call of the wolves chilled him to his core, a horror compared to the beloved swan calls from whence he came. Next the pair spent nine nights in the sunny, seaside ship harbour belonging to the sea god, but for Skaði those days were loathsome – the screeching of the seabirds aggravated her to distraction, while the heat grew unbearable.’

  Finn paused, and I felt myself leaning in a little to hear the end.

  ‘Heartbroken, the sea god and his ice goddess came to a terrible realisation: they were each a creature of their own world, and each too desirous of what they knew to ever give it up. Their love, it seemed, was not strong enough to broach the distance between them and so they parted ways, returning alone to their homes. But they made each other a vow: every nine hundred years they would meet in the middle, in the land both warm and cold, with both swans and wolves, and there they would spend nine nights together. And so it was that for every second of those waiting days they would long for the time when they might meet again.’

  We sat in silence once she was finished. I felt transported and melancholy.

  ‘Cheery,’ Osric commented. Finn reached to rough the warder’s hair affectionately. He ducked his head to hide a smile.

  ‘You have a gift,’ Ava said.

  Finn shrugged.

  ‘You should be a writer,’ I told her.

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘You should, Finn.’

  A shy smile tugged at her lips and she looked down at her hands. It was such a sweet moment that I felt an ache in my chest for her. She had no idea how painfully true her story felt to me now, thinking of my own ice goddess and the worlds stretching between us. Although knowing Finn, maybe she did. Her stories always had strange relevance, which I suspected was due to her subtle empath ability and a hefty dose of intuition.

  I turned my eyes to the horizon and my mind to how much I wanted to know what was out there. I thought of Ella calling me a chrysalis. I thought of what lay waiting for me in the city above. I didn’t know how any of those things fitted together in the one life.

  ‘Come on, we’re nearly there,’ I said softly, and we rose to continue.

  We’d only been climbing for half an hour or so when we reached a huge hole in the rock face. It was too big to avoid, so we had to scale it, which meant climbing upside down on a stretch of horizontal rock. Finn had no trouble. Ava and I did alright, going slowly and following Finn’s instructions about where to place our hands and feet. Then it was Osric’s turn.

  He reached the top section and stopped entirely, sweating badly. It was the lack of magic, I knew, that was freaking him out. He’d never had to rely on his body without it. ‘You’ve got this,’ I called down to him.

  He nodded. And slipped, falling from the cliff and jerking the rope taut. His entire body weight pulled against the three of us. As we all scrabbled for a hold Finn screamed at the sudden jerk.

  ‘Cut it!’ Osric shouted, hanging mid-air with no way to reach the wall.

  ‘Don’t move!’ I ordered the women. I took a breath and dragged myself two paces up the cliff, taking the weight of the rope so that neither Ava nor Finn would be dislodged. They were already trembling with the effort, and I could see Ava reaching for her knife.

  The rope around my waist was cutting me in half as I took all of Osric’s weight to myself. Ava and Finn peered down, suddenly free. ‘Falco! What are you doing?’

  ‘I’ve got him,’ I grunted. ‘Pull yourself up, mate.’

  ‘Cut the rope,’ Ava ordered me, trying to pass me her knife. I ignored her, looking down at Osric. He was flailing about, unable to right himself. My fingers on the rock were trembling dangerously. If I fell too, there was no way Ava and Finn could hold us both. They’d have to cut the rope.

  It was funny, what I thought about then. Or perhaps it wasn’t funny at all. Perhaps it was obvious. I thought of Isadora tumbling with me to the base of those rocks, her body smashing with mine into a million pieces.

  I took hold of that image, held it close to my heart, and I breathed it deep into me. I would don a disguise I had never worn before, a new one that actually asked something of me, required me to be not less but more.

  ‘Cut it!’ Osric shouted.

  But that wasn’t happening. I took one hand off the wall.

  Finn screamed.

  I reached down, the left side of my body shrieking in agony, to take hold of the rope beneath my waist.

  Osr
ic had drawn his own knife.

  I met his eyes. ‘Don’t you dare.’

  ‘I must.’

  ‘Sheath the blade. On your Emperor’s order.’

  He faltered. And as he hesitated, I used my right arm to start pulling the much larger man up, inch by painstaking inch.

  Sparrow’s wings brushed against my face. I felt a trembling through my body; it screamed at me, this was beyond its capability. But I let the wings lift me, lift my arm and climb with the other man until he was close enough to reach for the rock face and take his own weight.

  I sagged against the cliff, breathing hard. My body was spent. The roaring tide receded from my heart.

  I’m coming for you, little Sparrow.

  We found the tunnel eventually, in a far up rock ledge smaller than the one we’d rested on earlier. This one had no shelter against the shrieking wind and the four of us had to struggle with the iron door to get it open, almost losing our footing in the tight space. Dust from within burst into our faces and we coughed until it cleared. The dark hole wound its way into the cliff. It would steadily ascend until it reached the aerie in which sat Sancia.

  Osric took hold of my arm to forestall me. ‘I must thank you, Majesty.’

  ‘Don’t start calling me that now!’

  ‘It’s your title. You have earned it.’

  I frowned. ‘I just pulled a man up a rope. That’s not earning anything.’

  ‘Why didn’t you cut me free, Falco?’

  I shrugged. ‘Don’t get carried away – it just didn’t occur to me.’

  Osric smiled. ‘That’s what makes you a true Emperor, Majesty.’

  Chapter Six

  Isadora

  The palace was readying itself for a banquet. Which meant Dren and Galia were busy preparing themselves in their private chambers, and hadn’t yet begun to whore the servants out for their own pleasure. The banquet was being whispered about throughout the city, so I’d steeled myself to return and take advantage of the opportunity. One last time, I swore. This was the last time I’d have to come here.

  I walked through halls I’d first walked six months ago, on my way to kill a different Empress, a different Emperor. That night felt heavy in my mind now, as I followed the same route to reach the same room. I’d failed to kill Falco then, but I would not fail in my efforts tonight.

  It was Penn who’d given me the courage to come back, in the end. The night my pegasis had come to find me, Penn had been watching from the window. He’d found me outside, alone in the moonlight.

  ‘Why send her away?’

  ‘It’s too dangerous for her here.’

  We watched the crescent moon together.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said eventually. ‘I had a pegasis once, and I never would have sent him away.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘My parents killed him.’

  I licked my lips. ‘Would you let that happen again? Or would you send him away to save him?’

  He cocked his head, thinking about the dilemma. ‘Yeah. I guess. To save him.’

  I put my arm around him. His was the only touch I wasn’t bothered by.

  ‘They hurt you, didn’t they?’ Penn asked softly. ‘They tried to take something from you.’

  I managed to nod, just a jerk of my head.

  ‘But they didn’t take anything.’

  In the moonlight I peered down at his face. ‘How …’ I cleared my throat. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘They didn’t take anything, and they won’t take anything. Because they can’t.’

  I leant my head on his and took a long, trembling breath. They can’t.

  So here I was. In preparation for the banquet I’d been working in the palace for the past week. I knew the layout perfectly, had memorised all the work shifts, though I couldn’t predict who would be here on which day. I knew that on those nights when they participated in their particular fetishes, Dren and Galia would ready themselves beforehand in their chambers for several hours. So that was where I went, laden with a tray of delicacies and sweet honey-wine.

  They knew me now. They hadn’t put me in the pool after that first day, but kept me by their thrones as their poor pet, the perfect spot from which to witness their depravities. They killed people each day, on whims. They forced servants naked into the pool, drugged them to be more amorous. It was about desire, I learned, but also about making those around them feel degraded, particularly the beautiful. Dren and Galia loved and desired beauty, but took just as much pleasure in marring it, ruining and humiliating it.

  I saw Ryan again each day, the man I’d been forced into the pool with. I couldn’t bear to look at him, too ashamed. He was kind, though. He was always very kind, and I knew he had a large soul. I just couldn’t let the kindness of that soul be pulled into the maelstrom of what I had to do, so for his safety, as well as for my own shame, I hadn’t once spared him a glance.

  Tonight the Mad Ones had invited their inner circle of warders to dine with them. Which was why I’d hidden after my shift and was now heading towards their bedchamber, despite not having been summoned. Staying to the wall as servants were ordered, I entered the royal chamber to a moment of acute disorientation. There was where we had stood, he and I. My bondmate. There was where I had shed tears, tears, and there was where his lips had touched mine.

  ‘It’s pet!’ a voice said, slicing through my memory and the fluttering of my heart. I looked up to see Dren. It was probably not such a bad thing that he’d caught me staring sightlessly at empty air. I was mentally defective, after all. I placed the tray on the sideboard and bowed.

  He threw his slipper onto the balcony. ‘Fetch!’

  I hesitated. Did he actually want me to fetch? This man was going to know a world of pain when I was done with him. I toddled out to the balcony and got his bloody slipper, maintaining a look of dumb obedience. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing I’d endured, for such an end.

  ‘Bring me a drink,’ Galia called, so I dropped the slipper at Dren’s feet like a good little dog and took his wife a drink. She was sitting before her mirror, gazing at herself. ‘Are you good with hair, pet?’

  Definitely not. I shrugged.

  ‘Go on. Try your best.’

  I picked up the brush and started raking it through her hair, surprised by its brittle feel, the texture so straw-like it seemed as though it would break off in my hands.

  Galia laughed a little, her cold eyes watching me in the mirror. ‘The task bewilders her,’ she told Dren. There was a hairpin on the dresser. I imagined how easy it would be to jab it into her neck and watch the blood drain from her cruel face.

  Galia moved her hand and I felt myself fly into the air. My entire body hung suspended in the middle of the room, incapacitated. Had she heard my thought? Galia spun me slowly so she could look at me from every angle. Fury bloomed bloody in my heart.

  ‘I don’t trust her,’ Galia murmured.

  ‘She’s dull as a mule.’

  But Galia wasn’t convinced. She watched my blank face. Moved closer and ran her hand over my foot. Inside, I screamed. Inside, I broke that hand for daring to touch me. Outwardly, I was blank. Galia moved her fingers slowly up my leg, under my dress.

  Then, thankfully, she grew bored. With a shake of her head she muttered, ‘Maybe you’re right. That agitation from the first day is gone. She feels like nothing.’

  ‘So why bother?’

  Galia let me fall to the ground and I landed so heavily both my ankles rolled and I crashed awkwardly onto my hands and knees.

  ‘Out,’ she ordered, enjoying the dog game her husband had started.

  I began to rise.

  ‘Uh, uh, uh,’ she scolded. ‘On your hands and knees, poor pet.’

  So I crawled from the room, imagining the brutal ways I would torture her before her end.

  Once out of sight, I moved into the antechamber. Following it around, I managed to slip inside the dressing alcove, from which I could see snatc
hes of the Mad Ones in their room. It would be some time yet before they left for the banquet. I had plenty of opportunity, and settled in to make myself comfortable enough to sleep.

  Their voices were soft, but I could hear them well enough. ‘They’re not as frightened as they should be,’ Galia said. ‘It’s why the resistance is forming.’

  ‘Why should it concern us? They have no power.’

  ‘Hate is power enough. Hate overcomes fear every time.’

  I couldn’t help peering through the slats to get a look at them. Galia remained before the mirror to remove her robe. In public, she and her husband were always covered from neck to toe, and now, as she dropped her robe to the floor, I saw why. Galia’s naked body was hideous. Her skin was discoloured as though every inch was bruised or … rotting. She peered at herself, letting the ward she’d pulled over her face disappear to reveal the truth. Her flawless skin and eyes became sallow and sunken as the illusion fell away, wrinkled almost to the point of desiccation.

  My eyes widened in shock and then I felt a slow smile curve my lips.

  ‘So we must deepen their fear,’ Dren was saying, no doubt as rotten as his foul wife under the heavy robes. ‘Either way, he cannot hurt us.’

  ‘And what do you make of the bodies?’ Galia snapped, studying herself. I reminded myself to breathe. I now knew their secret – the power was not only making them mad, but also destroying them slowly from the inside.

  ‘One a day!’ Dren argued. ‘One a day is nothing to us.’

  ‘One a day is one more than should be possible. Who is killing them in his name, and how the fuck are they doing it?’

  ‘Could it be him?’

  ‘We’ve read them all. The Sparrow isn’t here. No one knows anything about him. And yet.’

  From my spot I smiled. It was amusing how everyone in the world assumed I was a man.

  ‘What else amuses you?’

  I froze. Because that voice had come from right beside me.

  Skin crawling, I turned slowly. There, standing in the small, shadowy alcove hidden between walls were two people.