The Glass Girl

by Kim Alexander

  “Lel. I think the time has come to tell us what happened over there.” She held up her hand. “I know, you don't want to. I assume something happened between you and Moth, and that's not our business. But that's not all of it. You haven't said a word, not even if you saved that little girl.”

  “Or got the Counselor,” added Scilla. “It keeps me up at night, the wondering.”

  Lelet stared at her hands. “No.”

  “No, what?” asked Scilla.

  “We didn't save anyone. Thayree's gone.” She furiously dashed the tears off her face. “So's Yuenne, though. Gone. You can sleep now.” She gave a hysterical laugh. “It was for nothing. I should never have gone back there.”

  “Oh, no, that poor little girl. What happened?” May reached for Lelet's hand, but she pulled it away.

  “We failed. At everything. Even at being together. You want to know why I left? He told me to. He wanted me to leave. And so I did. Happy, everyone?”

  May frowned. “He told you to go. Just like that.”

  “Oh, no. He was too busy to tell me himself. He sent his mother to break up with me. Is that not the most pathetic thing you've ever heard? So, no. I'm not eager to go back over there and relive it. I'm done.”

  “His mother? That doesn't sound like him.” May thought about the day Moth had taken her flying, how he'd gotten warm enough to melt ice, just at the mention of Lelet's name. She hadn't gotten the impression he was close to his mother, or that he would willingly let Lelet go.

  “I'm lucky I have someone here. Someone human.” Lelet laughed again. “How many people have to make that distinction? No. I've spent all this time convincing Auri I'm worth the effort. I'm not going to trot back over there because you two like Moth better.”

  “Ugh, Auri.” Scilla rolled her eyes.

  Lelet stood up. She was dead pale. “You think you know everything. Well, you don't know this. Auri wants to marry me. I'm going to say yes. So, I'm not going to go on your little adventure, and I'm not going to stay here while you talk about him like that.”

  May followed Lelet to the door. “You don't have to leave. Scilla was just—”

  “Just what? Just being a child? Just joking? Don't lie to me and tell me you don't feel the same way.” She yanked her coat on. “I'm lucky he'll have me, and if you don't respect that, I won't be back.”

  May jumped back from the slam of the door. She took a breath and went to find Scilla, who was still at the table, squinting at the paper.

  “What are we going to do?” Scilla asked. “She can't marry Auri - we have to get her away from him and back with Moth.”

  May shook her head. “She's a grown woman. Maybe they weren't meant to be together. Maybe it's better this way.”

  Scilla made a face. “Do you really believe that?”

  “No,” May replied. “I don't.”

  Lelet slammed the door, knowing how the sound annoyed May, and walked quickly down the path to the street. It was a long walk back to Auri's house and she had cab money in her purse. Once past the gate she slowed down, letting the crisp air cool her cheeks. It felt too good to think of being shut up in the back of a cab. Perhaps she’d neglect to tell him how she got home. Maybe it wouldn’t come up. She took the cab money and tucked it into a hidden pocket inside her bag, just in case.

  Most of the snow had melted; she stepped carefully over puddles of slush at the curb. It wouldn't do to stain her new boots with dirt from the street. Auri had a particular aversion to grime - she'd never seen a man wash his hands more often. He said germs got into the food, and when she laughed at that, he explained how it worked—shoes to hands to table, and then on into your mouth and so on. It was a long explanation; she'd forgotten most of it. After all, she'd spent many nights under the sky of both Mistra and Eriis, eaten things she couldn't name, made love with nothing but the dirty ground underneath her, and wasn't she fine? Was she? Maybe Auri was right. She didn't know why she'd lied about Auri wanting to marry her. He'd said no such thing, and she didn't know what her answer might be. But it made them stop talking about Moth. It couldn't stop her thinking about him, though.

  “What happened, Moth? Who’s Araan? Why is he on your Seat?” Hellne's voice whispered in her ear. He is very fond of you. Her mouth hardened into a straight line.

  “This has nothing to do with me. I belong here.” She took a furtive look around, and finding no eyes on her, pulled her cigarette case from her pocket. Auri hated her smoking, but a long walk in the cold and a mint from her purse would chase all the evidence away.

  She began walking.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Mistra

  Time for a night out

  Brothers should be friends (and it's on me)

  -Auri

  Rane flipped the card over to see the time and the name of a club on the edge of Upper Garden. Rane had never been to The Striped Cat, but heard it was fashionable. He couldn't think of a reason not to go. And yet…brothers? What did he mean by that? He hated to think of himself as being like his father in any way, but could he have inherited the old man's snobbery? Because in spite of all the wealth, Auri's family had no number after their name. Rane knew with only fifty families to choose from plenty of men and women married down, otherwise children would end up being born with flippers and one eye between them. It was an extremely common practice, and it wasn't like Lel was a Second. (Not that May showed any interest in taking her traditional place as a married woman, but that was a problem for another day, or better yet, his father.) So, if it wasn't a lack of a number, and it wasn't a lack of money or manners, what was it that set him ever so slightly on edge?

  His reservations began in earnest as the affair between his sister and Auri quickly escalated. Lel had never been one to talk of settling down. But she needed someone to help her past the misery she'd brought back with her from the other world. Auri knew about that world, so in theory he was the perfect partner; understanding, compassionate. And best of all, Auri wouldn't wonder if Lelet's tale of the kingdom of sand beyond The Door was the raving of a lunatic. He hadn’t told either of them about their common hobby, figuring it would come out in time. He just never expected it to last. Was she happy? Privately, he wondered if anyone other than her mysterious demon prince would ever make her happy. But Auri certainly kept her occupied, and as he himself knew, a busy mind had no room for idle, dangerous thoughts.

  …Well, I might as well go see what Auri has on his mind. Rane pulled his coat on and headed for the door. After all, he's buying.

  Three hours and several bottles of better-than-decent white wine later, Rane was propped against the dark wood of the bar with a knee wedged against a barstool to maintain his balance. With one hand, he pushed away a silver platter of empty oyster shells, heaped on a bed of melting crushed ice which was itself tinted pink with tipped-over cups of mignonette. His sleeve was already damp from previous dunks in the slush. His other arm was looped over Auri's shoulder, and he loudly declared, “She's lucky to have you. You know, I always thought she was as mad as I was. I thought that prince she kept going on to May about was all in her head. Well he's gone and good riddance.” Rane couldn't believe how wonderfully lucky Lelet was that he'd found Auri for her. How clever and understanding the man was. And even though he didn't normally notice such things, Auri was awfully good-looking as well. He lifted a glass—what a lovely surprise! They'd switched to whiskey. “Brothers!”

  His knee slipped and his elbow landed on the bar with a crack. He looked down his arm at his wet sleeve—had it always been such a long arm?—and waited for the bolt of pain. It never came. He laughed; everything was magical and perfect when Auri was around.

  “Another round,” his best friend, the truly delightful Auri, called to the bartender.

  For some reason, the bartender looked displeased. He leaned in Rane's direction and said, “Everything all right, sir? Will you be needing a cab, then?”

  “No rush,” Auri said. “We'll have that round.” He pulled
Rane back to a standing position. “How can I ask permission to marry your sister without a proper drink to celebrate?”

  Some small part of Rane's mind wondered if one actually celebrated asking permission, or more properly celebrated receiving permission, but it was drowned out in a flood of excellent whisky. “No!” he shouted. At the look on Auri's face, he quickly added, “I mean; 'no, it's too good to be true', not 'no you can't marry my sister.'“

  A crowd of drinkers on either side heard the exchange; not surprising, since Rane had lost control of his volume. They all insisted on several more rounds, and of course it would have been unforgivably rude to refuse. Cheers went up, drinks were raised. After that, it was mostly flashes.

  A pretty brunette pushed her way through the crowd and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  Her handsome companion did the same. Rane mainly remembered that because the young man had some stubble on his upper lip. How did ladies stand it?

  The girl and her friend were gone. All their drinking companions were gone.

  He was sick in an alley.

  A cab ride, cold air.

  Auri calling him 'brother' and holding a flask to his lips; some sort of minty drink that settled his mutinous stomach and made him want to lie down.

  He was lying down.

  Another woman, already asleep. Was he in bed? His own bed? The room tilted. He slept.

  Pounding. Was someone playing a drum? Rane opened his eyes. What in the hell had happened? He'd drunk a river in his life, but never like that. Auri. Auri was going to marry Lelet? Is that what he said? He rolled onto his back and cautiously looked around. To his astonishment, he had no headache, no roiling stomach—he felt fine. Perhaps a little foggy in his wits. It was daytime; the shades were drawn but he could see light coming in and hear noise from the street. And that thumping. He sat up, his evening clothes were still on, and there was dried sick on his shirtfront.

  There was someone sleeping next to him.

  This wasn't the first time he'd awakened with a strange lady in his bed, but it was the first time he had absolutely no idea who she was—not a name, a face, nothing. She was petite, slender; not his normal type.

  “Sweetheart? You awake?”

  She was facing away from him, she had a mass of dark hair. Was it the girl from the bar, the one who kissed him? He thought not. He touched the strange woman's shoulder, and she fell with a thump onto her back. Fell, because she was dead. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling, and there were dark purple bruises on her slim throat.

  Also, she wasn't human.

  Her eyes, as he could see even in the semi-darkness, were tilted like those of a cat. And bright red.

  Rane swore and threw himself off the edge of the bed, landing hard on his backside. The jolt woke him up, cleared his head. He pulled the shades, swearing again at the searing blast of light.

  The pounding continued. The door. Someone was pounding on the door. Without thinking, he stumbled through his great room to the front door, he pulled it open.

  “Did you forget breakfast? I had to eat by…what in the world is wrong?” Rane could only imagine what Auri must think of the look of him; still in his soiled evening clothes, reeking of whatever went in and out of his mouth.

  “I don't…what did I do?”

  Auri went past him to the kitchen, finding the coffee, lighting the stove. “Other than over-imbibe? I can't say. Last I saw of you, you were getting in a cab. You said you had to meet someone, you were very mysterious about it. Who was she?” His eyes lit up. “Is she still here? I can forgive your skipping breakfast.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Although you don't look like you had a successful evening. Do you want to go change? Or, ah, wash up? I'll finish the coffee.”

  “Auri. Who was I going to meet? Was it a woman?” Rane pulled at his hair. The bits and flashes came and vanished - it was maddening. But nowhere did he see a woman with such an alien face. She might have fallen from the sky.

  “Well, you wouldn't say.” Auri frowned. “Is everything alright?”

  “Come with me. I need you to see something.” He led Auri back to his room. To the bed, to the woman on the bed. The dead demon girl in his bed. The two men stood over her silently for a long moment.

  “Is this what it looks like?” Auri asked. “And where did she come from? I hadn't heard a word about a demon arriving here in Mistra…does it have something to do with your sister?”

  “My…what? No, I haven’t seen Lel for days. I've never seen this…I’ve never seen her before in my life. I've never even seen a demon before. I didn't kill her.”

  “Are you certain?” Auri reached out and lifted the collar of Rane's ruined shirt away from his neck. There were scratches on his throat and chest. He didn't know where they came from. “Does your family keep a barrister?”

  “What? A…” The room spun, darkened. He sank onto the bed next to the girl and put his head down. “This is a nightmare. I don't know what happened.”

  “Don't touch anything.” Auri left and returned a moment later with coffee. “Here. Clear your head. Now, what's the last thing you do remember? Getting in the cab to meet her?”

  “No …it was you, you were giving me something. Minty something.”

  “Ah, that's something I invented myself. Settles the stomach. You'd been sick. You remember that?”

  “Yes. And I can see…” He looked down at his shirt. “I have to change.”

  “Shall I send for your lawyer? Rane, we'll have to call someone to…take her away.”

  “They're going to say I did this. Won't they? What will you tell them?”

  Auri looked away.

  In the end, Auri told the barrister, the police detective, the coroner and the representative from the Guardhouse (a sour-faced old man who scribbled on a notepad and looked down his nose at Rane before taking custody of the girl's body) that the night had been a celebratory one, and that Rane had left in a cab on some errand that Auri couldn't describe and Rane couldn't recall. It was only the number after his name, and the money before it, that got Rane in front of a judge that very afternoon, not stuck in a squalid holding cell in Fool's Hill waiting for his fate to be determined. The judge wore a look of boredom that evaporated when he read the description of the victim. There was a spirited but hushed conversation between the barristers, the judge, and the representative from the Guardhouse (a different sour-faced old man) at the judge's bench. From the bits he could hear, it appeared his family's lawyer wanted the girl's identity kept secret, and the Guardhouse man seemed to agree. However, the lawyer for the state and then, unfortunately, the judge, had a differing opinion. Finally, the group finished their discussion, and his life and fate were laid out for the courtroom to enjoy. He wondered how word had gotten out so quickly, for every seat in the gallery was full. His stomach churned and his fists clenched and unclenched as the family lawyer told a story of a disturbed young man who saw visions and spoke to the thin air.

  “No history of violence, despite the evidence. The court will recall that his own mother sadly left this world by her own hands when he was still a child. What toll might that have taken? We ask you take his mental state into consideration when passing judgment. As far as the identity of the victim, the Guardhouse will have to handle that. Wherever she came from, it's outside of our jurisdiction.”

  Rane looked over his shoulder at May and Lelet, seated in the gallery, white-faced and in tears, and silently apologized. Even if he hadn't killed that poor girl, he'd forced them to witness this.

  The lawyer representing the interests of Mistra pointed out the scratches on his neck, and the bruises—the finger-shaped bruises - on the demon woman's. “If the victim was a human, would our request be any different? Doesn't this poor creature deserve the same justice? The young man needs to be in a place where he can get the help he's so badly needed his whole life. Perhaps if the family were more vigilant, we would not be here today.”

  The old man from the Guardhouse had no remarks.


  “I'm sorry,” Rane called to them as he was led away. “I didn't do this.” But he wasn’t sure at all. Dogs no longer spoke to him, the voices were silent, didn’t that mean he was cured?

  “We'll fix it,” May replied. “I promise.”

  The result of some of the money—a great deal of it, in fact—got him a small, tidy room at a private clinic for those whose wits had come loose. He'd remain there until it was proven one way or another that the demon girl had died by his hand. If not, he'd go free. If so, he'd get a larger room to call home—for the rest of his life.

  “Don't you remember anything?” his lawyer asked. “Help me help you. Isn't there anyone who you can think of who can get to the bottom of what happened to that girl? Did someone send her here? Who might know?”

  There was. There was someone. “I need to speak to my sister,” he said. “I need Lelet's help.” I'm sorry, Lelly, he thought, but your imaginary prince might be my only hope.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Eriis

  “Are you ready?” Zaii asked.

  Rhuun took a breath and looked up at the soaring side of the aeronasium, the curved yellowish slabs of stone glinting in the dull light of the rows of nightstones below. This was it, his problem would be resolved this evening. He knew the question was directed at him. Coll hadn’t displayed any qualms at all, and, despite the conviction of his words, Zaii knew Rhuun’s heart was the most tender of the three of them. But yes, he was ready. They followed the crowd inside for the night’s performance. As he was no longer on the Seat, he found himself the object of far less intense scrutiny. He was back to being the queen’s large, ugly son.

  His family box at the recently restored aeronasium was more than halfway up the cylindrical walls, and open at the sides, so everyone in the stands could see the reaction of whichever royal had shown up. Rhuun didn’t think his uncle or Thaali had attended since their return, and privately doubted they could find the huge old stadium on their own. The chance of running into them was nearly non-existent, but he still drew a relieved breath at seeing the empty seats.