The Calyx Charm

by May Peterson

  She gently lifted one hand above her head. The rocks above Casilio’s head lost their glow, and instantly plunged to meet him. His men scattered. A scream rose from his throat, aborted by the crack of fate crushing him against the stone. It was over with startling speed, as if the thwarted deaths in his charmed life were now all catching up to him.

  “Goodbye, Father.”

  Violetta knelt down to her mother, touching her head. The petals expanded and grew around her, coiling at the places where her wounds appeared to be. Liliana winced, but her breathing eased. I hadn’t known the calyx charm was capable of healing, but it could do many things to spare the people Violetta blessed. Including inure them to a dragon.

  I eased Mamma down to the floor, satisfied that she continued to breathe, deeply as if sleeping. Then I went to Violetta, throwing my arms around her.

  For a moment, time stood still. Only the sensations of our embrace existed, the beauty of her presence that I had almost never known again.

  “One problem.” Liliana coughed, and signaled for our attention to direct it to Casilio’s fleeing loyalists. “Even if we killed every man escaping this room, this will be impossible to hide. Casilio had fellows in the courts and on the electorate that don’t care about proof. The princes of the country will hound us if they think there’s any way the story will be believed. Violetta could be tried for treason.”

  “Treason,” I sneered. “What a nonsense concept for a crime, with a ruler like him. He was going to smash us like ants, and our defense is treason.”

  Rosalina may also be implicated, perhaps her whole shop. Victory was seldom a neat thing.

  Liliana sighed. “We may have to simply be prepared to fight. I will not let them take her, or any of you.”

  A new voice joined the conversation. A tired, beaten one, but a voice still rife with strength. “It won’t come to that.”

  Mamma.

  She was already awake, peering out of narrowed eyes like an infant growing accustomed to the sun. She moved laboriously to her side. I rushed to stop her, assist her, but she weakly pushed me back. I didn’t have the heart to press.

  “I’m all right.” She began rising to support herself with an elbow, and when she failed, she finally accepted my support. “My mind is. Coming back to me already. Soon I’ll remember what I did, which will be hell enough.”

  “Time may be short.” Liliana rubbed her chest. “Say what you will, if it changes anything.”

  Mamma snorted, a shadow of her customary hauteur. “None of the lords of this land will have a reason to pursue the Benedetti family or their friends, because common sense won’t stand for it. You all saw what really happened. The men who survived saw what really happened. Every servant with enough survival instinct to flee this building as soon as it began to crack saw what really happened.”

  I swallowed. “What really happened, then?”

  She paused, and smiled gently at me. Privately. Sorrowfully. One single nod was the only acknowledgment she gave.

  She remembered. She had heard me.

  “What happened,” she proceeded, “was that the Gianbellicci bitch turned into a fucking dragon-soul. A dozen eyewitnesses at least. She became a dragon-soul in plain sight and started tearing the house down. She used sorcery to take over the minds of his soldiers and wielded them against him. Then she killed the fucker in front of you all, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Oh, some of the soldiers may tell a different story, but they had a sorcerer rooting around in their heads. I can change memories. Who knows what I made them see? Besides, what sounds more realistic? I disappeared into the Deep just long enough for someone else to kill him? Bollocks. I’ve had it out for him for decades. No arguing with common sense.”

  The sheer elegance of this solution was stunning. It was also inarguable.

  Mamma’s offering was simple. She had almost destroyed us all. She had been the one betraying, lying. So she would fall on the sword.

  Violetta frowned, thinking. Liliana took in Mamma, a fragile sweetness in her expression, as if thanking Mamma within herself.

  Then Liliana asked, “Jog my memory. What happened to Serafina after this? How did she escape?”

  Mamma laughed, the motion apparently painful, because she sucked air between her teeth. “She didn’t escape. She returned to the noble dragon. There isn’t a body because it became magic. You all saw it. There are witch lore records of this happening. Tibario tried to save me, but I was too far gone. It’s a pity they can’t examine the body, but less clean-up this way, eh?”

  I hugged Mamma tightly, enough to draw an oof from her. “Thank you, Mamma. Thank you.”

  “Yes.” Liliana chuckled. “Yes, I remember now. That’s exactly what happened.”

  We laid Mamma and Liliana next to each other, out of earshot, so they could say their goodbyes.

  Finally, I ran for Violetta. The rest of the world could wait. She opened her arms, but before her giggle of relief could escape her chest, I had her in my arms.

  I held her close, running fingers down her hair, and let her laugh into my embrace.

  “Thank you for believing for me.” Her joy was a mix of laughter and tears. The warmth of her body felt like a gift. “I didn’t know how to have hope for myself. You brought the dream to me. I don’t know if I could have survived without it.”

  I simply held her, took in the floral scent of her witchcraft. Nothing could keep us apart now. “I said I’d come back. I always will, flower girl. After a whole lifetime of being asleep to what I am, it’s time to finally wake up.”

  Casilio’s men were scattering, and the foundation of his house continued to crumble. But its ruin did no harm. Pieces of the old house fell, becoming weightless in the light of the calyx charm. Everywhere a holy glow spread, the fragrant blessing of the Honored Maiden.

  The dream was over, because it was becoming real.

  Chapter Twenty

  Violetta

  In the nights that followed the dragon’s descent, a magical thing happened.

  The story went on.

  I almost didn’t know how it could. A piece of me continued imagining that it would simply end, like running out of ink, and we’d all step into a world of blank pages.

  But the infinite current carried us along, the future blossoming in all directions.

  The day after Father’s defeat was draining. Mother still needed care; the calyx charm had strengthened her body against the worst of her wounds, but natural healing had to take place. Tibario bore her away, his cat-step the safest means to transport her. The lachrysinthe burned through her quickly, but the might of the dragon made no sign of coming back. It may be reckless to let her loose on the world once again, but so many forces had converged to bring her to this moment. The dragon-soul was not a sneeze or a moment of passion, it was the culmination of a life.

  Tibario returned to take Serafina away. Before they passed through the Deep again, Serafina turned back to me. She shed no more tears, uttered no more words. She simply raised her hand with fingers spread, a gesture of kinship between witches. When I returned the sign, she laughed softly to herself. A sheen of wry gratitude was the last thing I saw before she was gone.

  Perhaps this only meant the life that had made her this was over, and a new life could begin.

  I stood there alone for a time, my father’s domain becoming rubble at my feet. This had once been my home, and now it dissipated like a castle in sand. None of it could harm me anymore. The calyx charm sent shoots of violet tendrils through ground and air, the collapse of a lifetime falling on me no more heavily than snow.

  I was the Honored Child no more. And because of that, my power was mine again.

  Police arrived too quickly for Tibario to help me avoid them. A few servants remained at the site of the house, panicked about survivors in the cellar. Tibario returned in time for he and I to
face the inspection together. He wrapped arms around me, whispering, “I told you I would come back.”

  We were led above ground, Tibario hiding his tail with a coat, but he already looked wilted by the morning sunlight. We could have made an escape attempt, but one thing needed to be settled: what the city would do about this.

  A crowd congregated around the house, onlookers and neighbors, survivors being questioned, medical workers deploying to inspect the wounded. A pair of nurses looked over me and Tibario, and our lack of injury enough to send them along to those who needed them more.

  Weifan appeared at one point in the crowd, probably having heard of the night’s events and coming to investigate. She made a hand sign to me, communicating that she’d break me out if we needed. The police would be looking for a reason to arrest a mollyqueen, and I would make a convenient scapegoat. Tibario never left my side, his arm curled protectively around me.

  The duo of officers who questioned us seemed stumped. One of them finally sighed, paging through his notes, and said, “Seems there’s nothing more of import here.”

  The other man frowned. “How do you figure? We have the most significant clue in front of us now. This is Lord Benedetti’s son.”

  I stiffened. “I am no one’s son.”

  The man sniffed, but the first officer shook his head. “Have you discarded your wits? You said it yourself. Lord Benedetti has a son. This person is obviously a woman. The only lad here looks nothing like his lordship.”

  The second man pointed at me, mouth agape. “But the resemblance—”

  “What of it?” The first man crossed his arms. “What’s the course of action, then? We round up every ginger girl in Vermagna that has a passing resemblance to Lord or Lady Benedetti?”

  This silenced him. I stared, somewhat dumbfounded that it could be this easy. Then the first man shook his head again, pausing to wink before turning away.

  When he winked, his eye shone red for a moment.

  “Fuck me sideways,” Tibario growled into my ear.

  A parting gift.

  No more men molested the Fragrant Rose. It hadn’t been officers of the city who’d come, but Father’s privately employed men. The story we gave was that they had come looking for “Mercurio” Benedetti, who was rumored to be friends with the proprietress of the Rose. No mention of the calyx charm’s intervention needed to be given.

  I should have liked to tell them not to bother looking for her anymore. She lived a different life now.

  Rosalina swept me into her arms and squeezed me tightly when we arrived. She cried for a few minutes, and I did too. Weifan smirked. “She did this to me, too, when I came back for her.”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.” Rosalina pushed me to arm’s length, wiping her eyes, then gave Weifan a quick goose on her backside. Weifan’s brows rose and one side of her mouth quirked up.

  “You were all there for me when it mattered.” I hugged her again, becoming practically orgiastic in my hugging frenzy. I looped around to Tibario, Weifan, Leo stepped into the rotation, then I was embracing Rosalina again. “Maybe you don’t all see it, but it made a difference. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”

  The interruption of the soldiers had spooked some of the customers, so Rosalina sent word to some of her friends about what happened and told the staff to have the rest of the day and night off. We could afford a bit of recovery.

  We had time for a great deal, now.

  Weifan did some wonderful things with fermented cabbage and rice, Tibario helped her organize a roast duck, and Rosalina and I pulled down some preserved cakes from the larder and set them out with savories and half the bar for accompaniment. We sat in her kitchen with the staff gone home, and gorged ourselves while drinking halfway to heaven and back.

  Weifan tipped back a shot of brandy. “My next goal in life is to sleep for a thousand years.”

  Rosalina grumbled pleasantly. “Mm. I will gladly follow you on that journey, love.”

  Tibario was sleepy-eyed as he leaned into me, booze reducing his irritation at the effects of the daylight. His tail wagged contentedly.

  Then Rosalina frowned up at me. “Does this mean the prophecy has been subverted?”

  Hm. I’d been pondering exactly that. “I don’t know. Prophecies don’t work the way we usually want them to. Now I think perhaps I simply didn’t truly understand it. I was so ready to see the forecast of doom that I didn’t let myself consider what else it could mean. A dragon did appear in Vermagna, and its power was destructive. Tibario and Serafina did face death with their minds linked. Father did stand against the dragon with the calyx charm. The pieces are all there, but I didn’t grasp the outcome.”

  Tibario nudged me gently. “And your dragon? The you from the future that you felt?”

  A warm sound bubbled in my throat. “That’s the part I find most mysterious. She’s still there. I feel her like I did then, but it’s...different. It isn’t threatening. I can feel more of her, like she’s always looking back at me. Maybe she never was a dragon. I assumed the dragon must be me, because I prophesied a dragon would descend, and it was as if myself from the future was trying to communicate with me. I think of it this way now: maybe that’s all prescience is? Witnessing what is from your own future perspective. It isn’t omniscience. Maybe I’ve always been talking to myself, past and future. She was guiding me to this point in any way she could.”

  Weifan shrugged, took a mouthful of cake. “She could still be a dragon, but dragons don’t have to be destructive. They’re more of a mystery than the noble spirits, if you ask me. Shit, I could be a dragon in the future.”

  Rosalina smiled. “I would pay to see that. Best looking dragon, certainly.”

  Weifan blushed faintly, narrowing her eyes, and Rosalina planted a kiss on her cheek.

  I wasn’t a completely different person, though. My sensitivity to fear made it hard for me to be convinced. At odd moments when I wasn’t busy, when the quiet provided space to think, I went on imagining that doom might be around the corner. My dragon might be waiting for us yet. Trusting hope was difficult. Trusting happiness felt even harder.

  But when Tibario and I woke up the next night, the story was still going on.

  I nuzzled him, drawing closer for warmth under the covers. He made a grumpy-but-pleased sound in his chest. “Mm. Sorry. No waking up. Time to sleep forever.”

  I tickled his nose, drowsy myself, and he flinched sweetly from my fingers. “Ha. Maybe I have something that will tempt you to wake up?”

  His tail flicked across my leg. “Still asleep, but listening.”

  I trailed one hand down his thigh, caressing his groin through his pants. “My tongue feels a little lonely just now.”

  “Fuck me,” he said, half a whimper and half a groan of lust.

  “Exactly.”

  His giggle sounded decidedly more awake. Spontaneously, he flipped around, grabbing me and turning me to my back. I gasped in pleasant shock. He pinned me playfully, eyes now bright and gazing into mine. He licked his lips.

  “I love you, flower girl.”

  A note of joy ran through me. “I love you too, wicked cat.”

  Our mouths closed together, and with one hand I began peeling his pants off. He liked when I played with his tail, and I liked when he licked my nipples, so we dove into doing things to each other that we liked, finding new likes as we went.

  We stayed at the Fragrant Rose. I brought up finding a new flat to Rosalina, or going back to my old one. But the idea seemed to make her a little sad.

  “To be frank, it’s been nice having you here.” She toyed with a curl of her hair. “Not only for the additional hand around the house, but that doesn’t hurt.”

  I hid a laugh behind my palm. “I still want to help you out at the Rose.”

  “Then why not stay for now?” Her express
ion shifted toward bitter sweetness. She may have been remembering Ismene again, her own journey to this moment in time. “You can leave if you like. But I made this house for us. For a community, not just a business. Also, I won’t lie. There is a decided comfort in having the Honored Maiden nearby, should one ever want a calyx charm.”

  That filled me with such gratitude, such happiness, that I became briefly afraid again. Happiness felt like an invitation to disaster, the future coming along to wipe the good times away.

  But it wasn’t happening. Happiness couldn’t last, but neither had the pain. They had all been parts of the story, the story that went on whether I knew it or not, whether I understood its outcomes or not.

  Maybe happiness was safe. Maybe happy endings didn’t need for the story to be over. They only needed someone to be allowed to be happy in them. I’d misunderstood what the ending of a story meant, the same way I’d misdiagnosed my prophecy. Happy ending was just another way to say that a gentler story was being written now.

  I wanted to see where this story went.

  A few nights later, as Tibario and I cuddled in the cool evening, he announced something. “I’ve decided. I want to reach out to Mio. He deserves that from me. Maybe he won’t want to see me, but that’s his choice. I should offer to be there for him, and let him choose how to respond.”

  Yes. Don’t try to control the outcome. Let the story tell itself. “I would be willing to help anyway I could. Do you know where he is?”

  He drew deep breath. “Yes, if he’s still in the country. I’ll write to him first. See what he wants.”

  “That sounds like an excellent idea. He’ll need to know what happened to Gino.”

  As had been the case in the past week, mention of Tibario’s father brought a quiet down on us. I myself struggled to process what it meant for him to be gone, and to have been gone all this time. Serafina’s artificial memories were fading, partly from revelation and partly from the effects of the calyx charm in purifying the magic from us. But that wouldn’t have taken effect for Mio. He deserved to know the truth.