By the Morning Light_Smoke and Mirrors

by Melissa Giorgio

  “I wanted to paint the view from the church,” Madelina explained. “But the church…” Despite the soaring temperatures, she shivered and rubbed her arms. “I don’t want to go there alone.”

  Snapping out of his stupor, Michel turned to us and said, “Yes. I’ll go. Let’s go. Let’s go now.” Without waiting for us to answer, he went inside the house, presumably heading toward the front door.

  Madelina’s lips formed a little “o.” “Are you sure he’s all right?”

  “When did I ever say he was?” I replied with a smirk before gesturing toward the house. “Shall we?”

  And that’s how I ended up spending my afternoon at the church overlooking the ocean with my sister and my best friend.

  Chapter Two

  The waves crashed against the cliffs below us in a steady rhythm, filling the open church with a thunderous cacophony. My sister set up her easel in the center of the building, the partial roof shading her from the relentless rays of the sun. Michel had ventured to the edge in hopes of impressing Madelina, but besides asking Michel to please not kill himself, my sister all but ignored him. Never one to be deterred, Michel sat down on the edge, swinging his feet over the open air. Watching him made my stomach roil nervously and I wished Madelina would acknowledge him and convince him to join us in the more stable part of the building.

  But Madelina was already furiously attacking her blank canvas, filling in the sky with a bright-blue paint. Her brows were narrowed in concentration while she pursed her lips together tight enough that they turned white. Katriane and I nicknamed that Madelina’s “Painter Face.” Once she wore that expression, there was no coaxing her back to the present. She was gone until the painting was finished, which could be minutes or hours from now. My sister never played with cosmetics, but a blank canvas and a fresh set of paints enthralled her each and every time.

  Perched on a pew a few yards from her, I quickly grew bored watching Madelina scan first the horizon and then her canvas before returning her eyes to the horizon once more. I liked Madelina’s finished projects, but watching her create them for more than a few minutes always made me antsy. Loathe as I was to escape the shade of the ceiling, I got up with a sigh and picked my way through the rubble to join Michel at the building’s edge.

  The wall overlooking the ocean had crumbled years ago, before any of us—including my parents—were even alive. Most people were convinced the rest of the church would go any day now, but people like Michel said if the cliff hadn’t collapsed by now, it never would, so the ruined church was safe. I wasn’t sure what I believed, but instinct kept me from joining him at the edge. At least until he glanced at me over his shoulder, a challenge in his green eyes. Stifling a groan, I joined him, sitting on the ruined marble floor and stretching my legs out in front of me. I couldn’t quite bring myself to go any closer and drape my legs over the edge like Michel, but although he smirked, he at least kept any comment regarding my cowardice to himself.

  “Nice day,” he said instead.

  “Too hot.” Already I was sweating, the sun hot and relentless. The breeze from the ocean was warm, but without it I wouldn’t be able to sit there next to Michel. As usual, the salt was heavy in the air, crusting on my skin and making everything feel grainy. I was about to suggest we go swimming, but then I remembered the reason we were here. I wasn’t about to leave Madelina alone in a church perched on the edge of a cliff. What if something happened? The entire structure could fall into the ocean and Madelina probably wouldn’t even notice. She’d just keep painting, maybe complain that the lighting wasn’t right as she fell.

  “It’s not so bad,” Michel said. He’d left his sword back at my house and now his fingers twitched, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Finally, he settled on a broken piece of marble, which he tossed from one hand to the other. It was odd seeing him without his sword. Michel had been keen on becoming a Knight since he’d found that book when we were young boys, and he trained with a ruthless sort of abandon that I half feared and half envied. I liked the idea of being a Knight, and I enjoyed our sparring matches, but when it came down to it, it wasn’t what I planned to spend the rest of my life doing. But because Michel had spent so many years wishing and dreaming to become one, I’d never had the heart to tell him how I truly felt. What if it pushed him away, so far away that it created a chasm we could never close? Despite our occasional quarrels, he was still my closest friend, practically my brother, and I had no intention of doing anything that could possibly change that.

  “Do you remember the day we met?” Michel asked, as if reading my thoughts. He propped up one leg and leaned his head against his knee, squinting as he stared out into the ocean.

  Despite how young we’d been, I did remember, and my cheeks burned with the memory of it. It was a summer day, just like this one, and our parents had taken us to the beach for some much-needed relief. I was four, Madelina six, and Katriane hadn’t even been born yet. Madelina had taken to the ocean like a fish, while I clung to Mother’s leg, wailing whenever Father asked me if I wanted to go in the water. Eventually he’d given up, and Mother had sat down with me in the sand, wiping away my tears and telling me it was all right.

  A shadow appeared and I looked up to see a black-haired boy scowling down at me. “What are you crying about?” he demanded. “The water isn’t scary! I’ll show you!”

  Before Mother or I could react, the boy—Michel—grabbed me by the wrist, hauled me to my feet, and yanked me toward the water. I’d been too surprised to cry, and before I knew it, I’d was up to my waist in water. Michel let go of my wrist and bobbed a few feet away, laughing.

  For a long moment I stood still, convinced I was going to drown immediately. But when that didn’t happen, I felt myself relaxing. The combination of the water lapping against my skin and the sun beating down on my bare shoulders was pleasant, and the waves were calm enough that I could keep my footing as they gently crashed against the shore. I dug my toes into the wet sand, marveling at the feel of it. When I looked down I saw a fish dart by my feet and I laughed, delighted.

  Smug at only four, Michel said, “See? I told you it’s not scary!”

  We became friends after that, sharing the sandwiches Mother had packed for lunch and promising to meet again the next day. It helped that our parents became fast friends as well. The only one who didn’t get along with Michel and his family was Madelina. Even back then she didn’t like him, which might explain his ever-present obsession with getting her to notice him.

  Two years later Michel would find the tome that would forever change our lives. We enrolled as squires the moment we turned nine, and we spent nearly all of our free time at the castle training. It was only lately that I’d found myself dreaming of a different life, one that didn’t involve swords. Besides, after the old wars, who would be stupid enough to flaunt their magic about? You might as well paint a target on your back and ask an archer to shoot you. There was no need for the Knights. I’d even suggested that Michel train to become a police officer instead, but he didn’t want to hear it. We’d had an awful row and he wouldn’t speak to me for nearly two weeks. After that, I’d wisely learned to keep my mouth shut.

  But sometimes I couldn’t stop myself from saying something. Like this afternoon, when Michel was going on and on about how he’d kill a magician. He was describing the exact techniques he’d impart, throwing glances at my house as if he hoped to see Madelina leaning out the window, swooning over his brutal words. I’d been more concerned Katriane would overhear him and spend the next three months having nightmares. That’s why I’d told him he wouldn’t kill anyone, even if it meant we’d start bickering. I’d rather bicker than listen to him talking about skewering someone alive.

  Thankfully he’d blamed my dark mood on the weather and here we were now, reminiscing about the past. But I swore if he started talking about killing magicians again, I’d chuck him off the edge of the cliff.

  Instead we fell into a companionable silence,
the only noise the steady crashing of the waves far below us. Drowsy with the sun and the heat, I laid down and shut my eyes, feeling content.

  Madelina’s gasp broke the silence and my eyes popped open, staring at my sister upside down as I tried to discern what was wrong. While one hand gripped her paintbrush, the other was flat on her heaving chest as she shouted, “You scared me, Kat!”

  Katriane is here? Scrambling into a sitting position, I took in the sight of my younger sister balancing a heavy sack in her skinny arms as she smiled triumphantly at Madelina. “Good! I was trying to scare you!”

  “You brat,” Madelina said before swiping at Katriane with her brush. The bristles connected with Katriane’s nose, leaving behind a streak of blue paint.

  “Stop! Gil!” Katriane wailed, turning to me, as she always did.

  I got to my feet with a sigh. “You know that’s your fault, right? What did we tell you about sneaking around, Kat?” Our father had started this whole scaring business; he’d walked in on Mother while she was reading in the parlor, shouting so loudly she’d jumped out of her chair and dropped her book. While Katriane had roared with laughter, I’d sat there, my mouth ajar as Mother scooped up the book and proceeded to beat Father with it until he apologized. Ever since then Katriane had taken delight in scaring every single one of us, even when it resulted in punishment from Mother. “Why can’t you be more like your brother and sister?” Mother had complained after banning Katriane from any sweets for the next week. “I don’t even know how to punish you. Am I doing it right? Gil, am I?”

  I don’t know why she thought I was the expert on punishment, especially since I’d happily avoided it all my life, but I reassured her she was. Then, when Katriane had jumped out of my closet that night, nearly giving me a heart attack, I’d wished I’d told Mother to be even harsher in her judgement.

  But it was a lost cause. Despite threatening Katriane, or taking away her desserts or forbidding her from seeing her friends, two years later she still hadn’t stopped. The only one amused by it was Michel, but that was because he hadn’t been scared yet. Hmm… Maybe I should suggest Katriane sneak up on him next.

  “If she hadn’t been so distracted by her painting, she would have heard me,” Katriane said, sticking out her bottom lip. “I wasn’t planning on scaring her, but how could I resist?”

  Shaking my head, I got to my feet and walked over to her, plucking the bulging sack out of her hands and peeking in. Michel joined me, peering over my shoulder and whistling. “You brought us food, Kitty-Kat?”

  Michel was the only one allowed to call Katriane that. I used to, but once she’d turned ten she’d declared that was a baby’s name, and she wasn’t a baby anymore. And she wasn’t. Somehow my sister had started growing up, gaining inches at a rapid rate. Already she was up to my shoulder, and I wondered if she would someday be taller than me. Unlike Madelina, Katriane paid attention to her appearance, brushing her hair slowly and carefully each night until it shone like spun gold. She’d also taken to wearing dresses and skirts, when just last year she refused to wear anything but pants. Father fondly nicknamed Katriane his “little lady,” but I bet if he knew the real reason why Katriane was acting this way, he wouldn’t be as accepting of it.

  The reason, of course, being the person standing next to me, grabbing a roll from the sack and taking a huge bite. For as much as Madelina ignored Michel, Katriane couldn’t get enough of my friend.

  “Hi Michel,” she said, all shy and demure as she lowered her eyes to the ground and snuck glances at him through her lashes. “I thought you’d be hungry, so I brought you some food from the kitchen!”

  Michel, too busy devouring the roll, grunted in response and Katriane nearly swooned. Rolling my eyes, I tilted the sack toward Madelina, but she waved me off and resumed painting.

  I sat down in one of the still intact pews and rifled through the bag until I found a croissant. Breaking off half, I held it out to Katriane, knowing it was her favorite, and after a moment, she accepted it. “Sit with me, squirt,” I said. Frowning at the nickname, she looked like she was about to protest, but once Michel sat to my left, she flounced over and sat to my right, tucking her skirts around her legs. In her beaded white and blue day dress, she was way too dressed up for a trip to the ruined church, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. As much as Katriane’s crush on Michel amused me, I wouldn’t embarrass her in front of him. She was still my sister and I loved her dearly, even if she had poor taste in men.

  “Does anyone know you’re here?” I asked Katriane instead.

  “Yes.” She daintily nibbled on her croissant. “I told Mother. Why did you leave me behind?” There was no missing the hurt in her voice and I felt a pang of guilt.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to come,” I said, even though we both knew that was a lie. The truth was, I hadn’t even thought of inviting her. Despite her newfound maturity, I would always think of Katriane as my baby sister who was too young to keep up with me and Madelina. I glanced over my shoulder to see Madelina watching us, her paintbrush stilled over the canvas. She gave me a knowing look, which I returned with a nod. There was a time when Madelina thought the same of me. As a child I was easily frightened, and Madelina quickly grew tired of my antics and left me behind to play with her friends. Even at such a young age, I remembered wondering if I’d spend the rest of my life alone. But then I’d met Michel, grown a little braver, and Madelina had accepted me as both a sibling and a friend.

  I didn’t want to do the same thing to Katriane. I didn’t want to leave her behind, nor did I ever want her to think that we didn’t want her around. The Leroy family stuck together, no matter what.

  Looping my arm around her shoulder, I said, “Next time, I’ll invite you. I promise.”

  I expected her to push me away, but instead she leaned into me and whispered, “Thanks.”

  Chapter Three

  After stuffing ourselves with bread and pastries, Katriane jumped from the pew and begged me to go exploring. As much as I wanted to flop down on the hard wood and go back to my nap, I allowed her to pull me to my feet. “Stay away from the edge,” I warned as Michel did exactly what I wanted to do and laid out on the pew, resting his clasped hands on his stomach and closing his eyes.

  Katriane’s face soured momentarily when she realized Michel wasn’t going to join us, but she hid it quickly. “I’m not an idiot, Gil.” She led me to the northern side of the church, where a large stained glass window depicting three saints remained intact. Every color of the rainbow had been used, creating a breathtakingly beautiful sight that rivaled the one my sister was currently painting. “I like it,” Katriane said simply, reaching up to touch the glass.

  The saints, whose names I didn’t know, were dressed in flowing robes that trailed the emerald green grass at their bare feet. One robe was fiery red, another buttery yellow, and the third matched the color of the ocean. The saint in the blue robes was female, and she was flanked by two males. All three were looking reverently at something the female cradled in the palms of her hands. It was a round, golden disc with a string looped through a hole at the top. Something about the disc struck me as familiar, but I didn’t know why.

  “Who do you think they were?” Katriane asked.

  A mischievous smile tugged at my lips. “Obviously these two were lovers,” I said, pointing to the woman and the man in the red robe. “But this one loves her too, so now they’re fighting over her.”

  “They’re fighting?” Katriane’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “They don’t look very angry, Gil.”

  “Look at this one’s eyebrow.” I pointed to the man in yellow. “It’s definitely arching angrily.”

  My little sister giggled. “That’s how Madelina’s looks when I’ve stolen her dessert!”

  “I can hear you, brat!” Madelina called from across the church.

  Now Katriane was doubled over with laughter, and it was infectious. I joined her and the sound bounced off the church’s standing walls, cau
sing Michel to sit up and tell us to shut it. When we didn’t listen, he rewarded us with a rude gesture, which only made us laugh harder. Trying to catch my breath I leaned against the wall, under the stained glass window, and heard something click ominously.

  Then the floor dropped open under us, sending Katriane and I plummeting.

  Katriane’s screams echoed around us as we plunged down a dark and damp hole. We didn’t fall for very long, but it felt like ages before my body connected with the ground, knocking the air from my lungs as I scraped my left arm painfully against a sharp rock. Katriane landed a few feet away from me, her screams cutting off in shock as her right ankle twisted sharply under her. It took me a moment to catch my breath, and then I hurled myself toward her, shouting her name.

  Above us I could hear Madelina and Michel’s frantic calls, but I ignored them as I turned my sister over so she was on her back. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned. “I don’t want to do that again, Gil.”

  “Me neither,” I said, relieved. Helping her sit up, I reached for her ankle, my fingers pausing when she let out another scream. “Sorry!”