The Sisters of the Crescent Empress

Chapter 8: Sibilia

Hi Scribs,

I know without you reminding me that I haven’t written a single word in the last six days. Trust me, it’s for a very good reason. Everything has been horrible and getting even more so since the INCIDENT. I don’t actually want to talk or write about it. But I’m willing to detail the resulting consequences. Though be warned, Scribs, I might have to pause at a moment’s notice. The guards keep on checking on us at odd hours.

It’s tough to write in the dark, so please ignore any poorly stroked line or the more than likely smudges. Even though both of the chandeliers are lit the long days through, the corners of the drawing room remain so shadowy that I don’t want to even glance that way. My sisters and I are constantly on edge, and so are the guards and soldiers. Even that dreadful Captain Ansalov is terrified, but for a different reason.

This is of no use, Scribs. I must tell you more: why it’s dark and why my sisters and I are confined to the drawing room. Otherwise you won’t understand why I’ve come to hate this house so much more than I ever loathed the train journey. At least then we were moving and not stuck!

It’s all because of the INCIDENT. The first day after, the guards painted the windows black with tar. Once this was completed, poor Millie had to sew shut the curtains in the drawing room and in our chambers, too. Yesterday, when my sisters and I were escorted out for our daily walk in the walled garden, I saw the soldiers building ladders and piling planks next to the house. All this because Papa saw what came to pass, and no matter what Captain Ansalov said that night, he’s afraid of our celestial father. He’s properly and thoroughly frightened, though we’re less than a month away from midsummer and soon all that remains is one long summer day when his power will be at its weakest (which is not a very cheery thought either).

Scribs, you might have figured this out already, but just to be clear, it’s not only the light we lost, but also our freedom, and the confinement here feels worse than it ever did on the train. I couldn’t sleep on the first three nights after the INCIDENT, and it wasn’t because Celestia returned to sleep next to me (even if I do hate-hate-hate her, under these trying circumstances, her being closer to me does make me feel better), but because the guards kept on peeking in through the door crack. This must have tired them too, for now they sleep in turns in the drawing room, way too close for comfort.

Gone are the lazy mornings when we could crawl out of bed when we so wished. These days, after we’ve dressed, we have to wait for Captain Janlav and the guards to unlock the doors and let us into the drawing room. We never meet Millie alone anymore—the breakfast of the blandest sort awaits us on the oval table. We shift the gluey porridge around in the bowls till eleven. Then we dance, because routines are all that remain of the time that (now in hindsight) seemed so easy and carefree. Scribs, remember how I used to love the practices? They’re ruined for me now, and at times I stumble on the steps simply because I’m so focused on holding back tears!

Did I already mention that our lunches are beyond awful? Cold beetroot soup, sometimes hard rye bread with pickled white fish (not sure what sort of fish and not sure I want to even find out). But when it comes down to choosing between the porridge and the soup… Ugh. Both options are bad, but so is wasting away, and so I eat, but only enough to chase away the worst hunger pangs. There’s no desserts—Scribs, I’m so desperate for something sugary that I’d kill even for one spoonful of kissel. At times, I dream about chancing upon just a piece or two more of the Poet’s chocolates. Though they were filled with berries, they did taste delicious.

Quarter past two Captain Janlav returns to escort us to the garden. These excursions are the only time we breathe fresh air, but even then it’s under the watchful eye of the guards and Captain Ansalov’s soldiers. The latter stare at us from the porch, rifles ready, and if we as much as glance in their direction, they aim the guns toward us in the creepiest sort of greeting.

At three, Captain Janlav herds us (or that’s how it feels) back to the drawing room and locks the door behind him. My sisters and I idle away, till the guards bring in our dinner at six and take the rats out. An hour later, they fetch away the leftovers (none of us has felt like eating lately), and then we’re locked back into our chambers. At nights, I hear Captain Ansalov’s hounds howling. I think he lets them out to patrol in the garden.

To summarize, my sisters and I are now truly and really prisoners, and it’s Merile’s fault. Oh, Scribs, I hate my sister so much that I can’t bear to even look at her! How dare she lounge on the carpet, on her back with the rats snuggling against her, as if nothing at all had happened! As if she weren’t to blame for everything!

Though I can’t bear to look at Alina either. She stands once more in the darkest corner of the room, her back turned to the fireplace, facing the empty walls. Ever since the INCIDENT, she’s been staring intently at shadows, including ours, when she thinks no one is looking at her. I don’t want to ask (I really don’t even want to know) what she sees. Even if I should.

Remember what I wrote on your pages after we’d visited the Witch at the End of the Lane? About her seeing into the world beyond this one, even though she’s the youngest… I mentioned this in passing to Elise, and she said it’s the illness affecting our little sister’s mind, nothing more. I don’t know which would be better, Elise being right or the impossible being possible. At this point, I’m really not sure about anything anymore.

Because even Celestia and Elise are rattled by our desolation. They sit with their backs straight on the sofa, sipping weak tea from the chipped cups we brought with us from the train. They may be able to fool Merile and Alina with their pretended calm, but not me! Elise no longer smiles. And Celestia… as you know, Scribs, we haven’t exactly talked with each other since the truth-spell episode. I don’t think I can ever forgive her, I really can’t. I keep on imagining what might have come to pass that day she chose to abandon me.

Standing in the knee-deep snow, my heart turning into ice.

Watching the troika get smaller and smaller. Waving Elise, Merile, and Alina good-bye, knowing I’ll never see them again.

Hearing the gagargi’s soldiers loading their rifles, the snow creaking under their approaching steps. Knowing it could have been me in the troika if only my oldest sister hadn’t decided that I’m the one that can be sacrificed for the so-called greater good.

Yet Celestia continues to insist she had no other choice. Scribs, that’s why it’s not worth saying another word to her ever again unless I absolutely must.

Bang. Bang. Ah, here we go at last. Bang. Bang. Bang. The soldiers have started nailing planks over the windows. Ugh, I really hate that sound. So raw and throbbing. Almost like a tooth pain.

Merile’s folly ruined everything. I keep on thinking about the plan Celestia told me about while under my spell. It sounded plausible and well thought-out, but it’s no longer of any use to us. The ghosts have as much as told Alina that our sister doesn’t have another one. Not even one that would include abandoning us.

But I’d better brace myself for worse. The rats will soon start barking. Even as I write this, they bounce before the windows. Any moment now…

Oh, yes, here goes. Yap. Yap. Yap. Oh, the Moon, help me!

Now the rats are leaping against the sewn-shut curtains, and Merile simply watches them from afar, lying limply on her side. Bang. Yap. Bang. Yap. Insufferable cacophony. All this noise will surely give me a headache. Can she just not shut them up?

In fact…

Scribs, you won’t believe this! It’s all so incredibly unfair.

Elise dared to chastise ME, and for no other reason than telling the rats to shut up! Well, perhaps I threatened to skin them and make muffs out of them, one for myself and one for Merile (the latter only out of pure kindness). I might have raised my voice a tad (but definitely not in a way that anyone could consider unladylike) because Merile simply doesn’t get things when explained nicely and sometimes not even then, as we both so well know.

Merile, of course, started bawling her eyes out, but at least her rats then stopped barking and rushed into her waiting arms, as if she’d indeed suffered a major shock or trauma. Perhaps I should have tried crying myself, because Elise swiftly rose up from the sofa and glided to comfort our insufferable little sister. She shot a cold look over her shoulder at me and said, “Sibilia, dear, do try to behave.”

I heard her loud and clear, because at that moment the hammering paused. My joy for that was short-lived, though. For Merile glared at me victoriously from behind Elise.

I bit my tongue, because apparently being twelve gives you certain freedoms that disappear as you near your debut (and in case you’ve missed it, Scribs, as we’re still trapped in this house, there’s no way we’ll make it back to civilization in time for mine). Being an adult, or almost so, I maturely turned to Celestia, because her being the oldest of us, her word is final, and she does owe me for intending to leave me behind.

Scribs, what sort of person is so very eager to sacrifice her own sister? Why didn’t she insist we at least try and steal horses? I’m a decent enough rider, and so is she, and I’d rather be shot in the back while attempting to flee than happily stand before a wall, waiting for the soldiers to pull the trigger!

But Celestia simply lifted her tea to her lips, though the cup had to be empty already! I stared at her in utter disbelief. Does she not understand how badly she’s hurt me, that she really should have sided with me? To me, not taking sides is just as bad as choosing the wrong one!

Wait. I know that sound. Approaching steps. The key turning in the lock.

Back again, and let me tell you, that was an awkward encounter!

I admit, making Merile cry wasn’t perhaps my smartest move. Because of course upon hearing the racket, Captain Janlav had to come and check on us. Papa bless us that it was only him and Boy, not Captain Ansalov or one of his mongrel soldiers. Though, no doubt that day will still come.

Naturally, when Captain Janlav pulled open the door, my sisters and I faked that nothing at all had come to pass, and though we’re very good at pretending that something didn’t happen (actually just really good at pretending in general), of course we wound up looking guilty, because that’s what you do when you try and appear extremely innocent.

Celestia nodded him an imperial greeting from the sofa, her chin still somehow tilted up, her teacup held high. (I don’t know how she does it, but I sure don’t have enough time to learn that pose before my impeding debut, wherever it may take place. Also, why doesn’t she need to pee all the time?) Elise buried her fingers in Merile’s hair as if she were about to braid it. Our little sister managed to hold back her sobs, but her cheeks were vivid red still. And Alina… still lingering in the darkest corner, she stared back at Captain Janlav and Boy, her deep-set eyes so haunted that it scares me to think what she might have seen. I think the ghosts might have been talking with her, but I can’t know for sure, because I have to see their reflection to hear them and that hasn’t happened in a while. They avoid me, though I gave them my word that I won’t reveal their existence to Celestia and Elise, and unlike some, I keep my word, no matter what.

“Carry on,” Captain Janlav said after he became reassured that nothing more than a minor family dispute had come to pass. And then he just stood there, the heels of his once-fine boots firmly pressed together, as if we were soldiers under his command, as if he expected us to proceed with whatever meager daily activity he’d interrupted. As if all it took for us to resume being happy and content was his permission.

The silence stretched on, and I dreaded that he’d never leave. His gorgeous pine-brown eyes narrowed as they always do when he really starts thinking. I fidgeted with your spine, Scribs, for at that moment I dreaded him suspecting that my sisters and I were up to something (though we aren’t and can’t possibly be). And of course, because my hands turned instantly clammy, and him looking at me makes me clumsy, I wound up dropping you on the floor.

Boy shifted first, like a foal that doesn’t yet have control of its limbs. I do sympathize about that, though not about anything else. Well, perhaps a bit about the pimples and scars they’ve left on his high, sharp cheeks. But definitely not for the voice that seems to have gone missing in action.

Captain Janlav simply watched Boy lurch toward you, Scribs. Perhaps he thought Boy would just pick you up and hand you over to me. But I knew that in his ungainliness, he’d most likely accidentally open you and then… he might see my writing!

I reached out for you, Scribs, as fast as I could. But Boy was already bending down to retrieve you. He lifted his gaze (he has gray, rather large eyes) to meet mine, and our fingers met against your leather cover, in a brush of skin, so warm and sweaty.

I flinched back and, if I hadn’t been sitting already, I would have surely collapsed on the floor. He did likewise, but with a guttural, breaking yelp (no wonder he never speaks). As I cradled you against my chest, Scribs, many thoughts I shouldn’t, couldn’t think crossed my mind. With everyone, and I do mean everyone, my sisters and Captain Janlav, staring at us, I felt like dying of humiliation right then and there.

It was so embarrassing! Boy retreating back to the door, his long limbs swaying every which way as if he had no bones. Captain Janlav eyeing me from under his furrowing brows. At that moment, I was certain he thought of confiscating you! And I couldn’t let that come to pass. The Moon bless me if anyone ever reads your pages. You know way too much for your own good!

I did the only thing I could think of. I opened the pages at random. And though my scrawled lines cover the scriptures now, the holy words glowed under my gaze, and I knew I could summon forth the glyphs if I so wanted. Of course, I didn’t dare to do so, but as I had to do something, I read the words beneath in a voice that was so steady that I don’t think it actually belonged to me.

As a side note, I really like this part, and I can’t wait to pronounce these glyphs, even though I have no idea what they might do and though they will most likely leave me exhausted for days. But they seem VERY important.

In any case, after the last word, I pressed you shut as if I’d just finished the section I’d been reading all along. Celestia and Elise looked genuinely comforted, though if you ask me, the former really doesn’t deserve to feel good about anything. Merile dabbed her cheeks (she couldn’t possibly still be crying because I threatened her rats). Alina nodded, though whether to agree with the ghosts or for some other reason altogether, I couldn’t tell. But it was the guards’ reactions that sent shivers down my spine. Boy stared at me in wonder, pimpled cheeks blushing, and Captain Janlav… he shook his head slowly, as if the reality of our existence, the roles we each have to play, had just dawned on him.

It’s only starting to become clear to me now as well. But there’s too many thoughts swirling in my head for me to go down that path. I must finish telling what happened first before I can think of the accidental brush of skin against skin and that waltz I once shared in secret with K, and how under our changed circumstances I might never get a chance to kiss a boy, let alone experiment with anything else that’s still forbidden from me.

Enough! I shall finish this account first. Deal, Scribs?

Captain Janlav and Boy left without saying a word, locking the door behind them. My sisters and I listened to their fading steps. The hammering resumed before the steps could have possibly reached the stairway.

I counted to one hundred before I dared to speak. “Are they gone?”

Alina tiptoed to Merile and sat down cross-legged next to her. The brown rat crawled onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around it. “They’re walking past the library. Going out.”

I sighed in relief only then. The danger was over. And Scribs, I knew I was right. My sister is definitely talking with the ghosts, or at least the ghosts are still talking to her. Perhaps Alina can ask the questions I have in mind without alerting Celestia and Elise about the ghosts’ existence. Though I don’t trust them, they might know something useful.

I don’t trust Celestia either, but I bet she knows less than she pretends to know.

Back again. The dinner was horrid, as usual, but at least the hammering has paused. And the rats are still out with the guards. I really hope that one of Captain Ansalov’s hounds snatches them for a snack. Or perhaps not, because then Merile would bawl till she’d waste away, and though I still hate her, I…

I don’t want to lose her, any of my sisters, to be honest. Not even Celestia, though I may have written things contradicting with this statement in the past.

Scribs, I know I’ve mentioned the INCIDENT multiple times without sharing the details with you. Now that I can think straight (or relatively straight) again, I’m going to tell you what came to pass that night, before I forget anything or add something that really didn’t happen.

What’s behind my newfound courage?

You recall when I dropped you today, Boy reaching out for you, our fingers accidentally brushing? It made me think… I miss the life we once had. I miss K (may he have fled in time to avoid being fed to the Great Thinking Machine) and living in a palace and being pampered. But all the things I’ve been looking forward to for the past year—my debut, the balls to come, waltzing the nights away—there’s a real chance that none of it will come to pass. It’s very much possible that my sisters and I will never leave this house. A morbid thought, isn’t it?

I don’t want to write about the bad things and speculate of what might follow them, in case my words become a prediction of sorts. But today I started thinking, if my sisters and I were to meet our end in this house, I want someone (that someone being you, Scribs) to know what led to our fall. I don’t want to be simply wiped out from history as happened to Irina and Olesia.

Drat, my handwriting is shaky. Can you make out the words still? I hope you can’t and yet, at the same time, I hope you can. So, do tell me if at any point my handwriting veers toward unreadable.

Here we go then.

Six days ago, at midnight, Elise heard a timid knock on her door. I know it happened for sure because I’ve talked with Elise about it on multiple occasions, and though she mightn’t always tell me everything, she doesn’t make up things like our younger sisters do, and neither does she omit important bits like Celestia does.

I mustn’t get sidetracked. I must not!

Elise, who was awake at the time for reasons she wouldn’t share with me (what is it with all my sisters keeping secrets from me these days), glided to the door. Behind it, she found Alina, and our little sister was even more agitated and incoherent than usual. She prattled about a magpie and the witch and shadows of all sorts, and Merile being gone.

Elise, the Moon bless her for being the sensible one for once, managed to coach the relevant details out of Alina. Mainly that Merile had wandered out into the garden with her rats. Upon learning this, Elise promptly proceeded to wake up Celestia and me.

I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes when we heard the commotion from downstairs. Boots pounding. Doors slammed. Shouts smothered by the walls. Without a word said, Celestia soared out of our room. Elise, Alina, and I rushed after her, into the drawing room. But we caught only a glimpse of her white negligee’s hem as she disappeared into the hallway beyond.

I’ve never been as out of breath nor has my heart struggled to keep up as much as when I stumbled down the two stairways, then past the wide-open door of the library. I halted to catch my bearings when we reached the back door that stood ajar. Elise boldly pushed the door fully open. I followed her to the porch with Alina.

The night wrapped around us like a suffocating, wet blanket, but the sky was alight with our father’s half-revealed face.

“Father, bless your daughters,” Elise whispered, and then she skimmed down the porch’s steps, toward the barked orders muffled by distance. Our father lighting our way, Alina and I hurried after her, across the damp lawn, down the stone steps, to the orchard where the black shapes of the trees and bushes bowed under the soft spring rain.

Oh, Scribs, I shall never forget the scene we witnessed that night.

The Moon, though only growing, shone with his full might as Merile stood before the locked iron gate, Captain Ansalov and his mongrel soldiers circling her, Captain Janlav and his men doing likewise. She held her arms out to her sides, with her head tilted back, a glittering cap of raindrops on her black curls, and it was as if she were completely unafraid of the weapons aimed at her.

Scribs, if you reveal what I’m about to write next to anyone, anyone at all, even under the greatest distress, I’ll scorch your pages and shred you with the dullest knife. Understand this? Good.

As Merile shifted to defiantly stare at Captain Ansalov, she looked so very brave and beautiful that I did envy her! Yes, Scribs! I envied my otherwise so despicable sister, because out of all of us she’d acted, or at least tried to act, whereas the rest of us have remained docile and tame. For a good reason, too. But still!

Onward. I must go onward, though this is where things get darker.

“Stay back,” Captain Janlav shouted at Elise, Alina, and me, or that’s what I thought then. He and the guards must have arrived to the scene mere moments before us, for though they had their rifles drawn, their aim was still amiss. Within the next few heartbeats, they took places right behind Captain Ansalov’s men with a grimness that revealed that they’d been to battle before many times in their lives.

“Stay back,” he repeated, though Elise, Alina, and I had obeyed him the first time around. But then I saw Celestia stepping forth from the shadows of the gnarly apple tree by the gate. She strode before Merile, to protect our foolish little sister with her own body. In the searing white light of the Moon, she looked akin to a swan poised to strike.

The world held its breath, or that’s how it felt. I could hear everything, the sounds faint and loud. The squeak of triggers under sweaty fingers. The howl of Captain Ansalov’s hounds, barred in the stables. I smelled and tasted the night, too. Hot and humid with traces of iron and salt. Wet grass and ground and branches snapped under hasty heels.

“You shall not take my sister’s life,” Celestia announced, and her gaze promised a storm to come for anyone who dared to argue against her. I could tell the mongrel soldiers were afraid of her, for some of them lowered their aim.

“Compeers, don’t listen to her,” Captain Ansalov replied, and of all things, he sounded amused. “Though she may be the oldest Daughter of the Moon, she has forsaken her people. She cares not for you, only those she calls her own.”

What an insult, and yet my sister didn’t deny his words. I glanced quickly at Captain Janlav. He motioned his soldiers to keep their aim, his own rifle pointed at Captain Ansalov’s chest, right between the two rows of brass buttons. “Will someone explain what’s going on here?”

It was at that moment that I realized that if Alina hadn’t woken up Elise, if Elise hadn’t woken up Celestia, if Celestia had arrived at the scene just a moment later, Captain Ansalov would have had Merile shot already. And… it wasn’t only my little sister in danger, but all of us!

I felt faint, and time seemed to slow. It was as if every image, smell, sound, and detail were being permanently, forever, imprinted in my mind whether I wanted them or not. And I wanted the moment to rather last than abruptly end in bullets. Scribs, this might sound silly, but I’ve found the simple act of living sweet and to my liking, which is cruel, because now I know for sure that my sisters and I may not have that many days left to live.

“Certainly,” Captain Ansalov said, as if doing so pleased him immensely. Out of all the men in the orchard, he was the only one without a weapon. “We are under the great gagargi’s personal order to shoot any who may attempt to leave the premises they have been ordered to be contained in.”

Encouraged by the words, the mongrel soldiers pointed their rifles again at our sisters, fidgeted with the triggers. But Celestia remained unfazed. Though her negligee has frayed thin, though the moist air pressed it so against her frame that she could as well have been undressed altogether, it seemed to me as if she were wearing armor. And at that moment I realized that she would give her life away gladly to shield my sister, and I felt great regret, too, because for weeks now I’ve loathed her for the very same reason.

“Who is the one who holds the highest power, the Moon who watches us from the sky or the man who wields a piece of paper that anyone may have written?” Celestia asked, and in her voice sang the swans who don’t tire even when they cross the skies from north to south.

As Elise, Alina, and I were standing higher, on the root of the stone steps, behind the soldiers and the two captains, I could see only a glimpse of Captain Janlav’s familiar profile, the square jaw covered by beard, the posture of a man who cared not if it was night or day, only about fulfilling his duty. But I had no trouble hearing his voice.

Captain Janlav said, “We all serve the Moon. There is no doubt about it. He wants what is best for our people. Who are we to debate his wisdom, for we can’t even begin to comprehend it. It’s for us to follow the orders placed by those who can hear his voice and see what he sees.”

Much to my horror, he lowered his gun and marched to Captain Ansalov. A piece of paper was exchanged, as were some muttered words. I don’t know what they agreed on, but I dreaded what might follow.

It may have been the longest moment of my life.

“I see,” Captain Janlav said in a dry voice when he finally handed back the paper. He turned to signal his men, a frown marring his forehead. But before he could speak, Merile did so.

“I wasn’t trying to flee.” My sister shuffled next to Celestia, the black rat flanking her as though it could really protect her. “Walk. I was merely taking Mufu for a walk.”

It was as if Captain Janlav hadn’t heard her. He retreated back to his men. Much to my and Elise’s shock, he motioned them to lower their rifles. Captain Ansalov’s soldiers did no such thing. I felt Alina pressing against my side, but I couldn’t comfort her then. Not when I needed someone to tell me that all would end well.

“Reasons behind actions don’t matter.” Captain Ansalov spoke louder again. “There are orders that must be followed. It’s not for one man to think whether he is right or wrong or whether it pleases him to do so. For hesitance only leads to the ruin of common good.”

Celestia wrapped an arm around Merile, drew our sister before her. Merile crossed her arms under her chest, and as she did so her sleeves rose up. It was then that both Celestia and I noticed the scarf around her wrist. It was red as blood.

Celestia twitched ever so slightly upon seeing the gift the Poet had given Merile. She’d called it inappropriate and insulting before. But now, a calmness I knew to mask high-stake calculations fell upon her. I pinned my hope on her.

“Wait.” My sister’s one word contained so much power that I was sure it was our father who spoke. “That is not the only order.”

Time stood still again, but not as long as it did before.

“You may be the empress-to-be,” Captain Ansalov sneered as he replied to my sister. He had his hand raised already. One motion, and shots would be fired, I was sure of that. Even Captain Janlav could do nothing to stop him. “But your words have no power here. Not in the house, not even in the light of the Moon. We have our signed and sealed orders. We obey the great gagargi.”

“So I have been told,” Celestia said, grabbing Merile’s wrist. She held it up so that no one could miss the red scarf, despite my sister trying to tug her hand free. “My sister is under the great gagargi’s personal protection. Do you not see what is before your own eyes?”

The mongrel guards gasped. Their holds on the rifles slackened. They craned at Captain Ansalov, but it was clear now. They saw the scarf as something much more than an ill-picked fashion accessory. Bloodred like their gloves.

“I wonder…” Captain Ansalov muttered. His expression stayed the same, pleasant and moderate, but no doubt his men’s disobedience infuriated him. “Tell me, how did you come by that thing?”

Merile pulled her hand free. She pouted at Celestia as she rubbed her wrist, as if it simply hadn’t dawned on her that she’d ever so narrowly escaped being shot. “Seed. It’s a gift from my seed. Whatever for you that information need.”

“A gift from the gagargi’s voice himself?” Captain Janlav wondered aloud, and it took me a while to get it, why he’d said such an obvious thing. He’d said it for the benefit of everyone present, in case they’d somehow missed the connection. “A favor not to be lightly dismissed.”

The Moon’s light slanted and brushed against Captain Janlav, as if welcoming a long-lost son home. I think it was Papa’s way of saying that though under the gagargi’s orders, Captain Janlav would keep us safe for as long as he could.

“Shall we not return indoors now that this unfortunate misunderstanding has been sorted out?” Celestia suggested, and without waiting for an answer, she guided Merile past Captain Ansalov and his men, toward the path leading back to the house.

“Considering the circumstances, I couldn’t possibly allow you to walk back unescorted,” Captain Janlav said to her, then to his men, “Please accompany the daughters to their rooms.”

Celestia and Merile had just about reached Elise and me then. Beard and Belly and Tabard and Boots fell beside us before I could as much as even blink. The next thing I knew, my sisters and I were escorted up the hill. Prisoners, yes, but alive.

“Compeers, at ease. I commend you on your vigilance,” I heard Captain Ansalov say behind us. “Captain Janlav, a word with you.”

Though I yearned to return to the house the fastest, to pretend I was safe for a moment at least, I wanted to, needed to hear the conversation between the two captains, too. As I stumbled up the slippery stone steps, I strained my ears. But I couldn’t hear a thing.

Scribs, I really need to ask Alina to talk with the ghosts. We need to learn what sort of understanding the two captains reached, and the sooner the better.

I can’t sleep yet, Scribs. I have a bad conscience. Lately, I’ve had a lot of time to think, and having written what happened on that almost fateful night, I’ve come to realize that I may have acted just a little bit immaturely myself.

For weeks and weeks, I loathed Celestia, and a part of me still does so. My sister chose Alina, Merile, and Elise over me. Had things turned out differently, I might have been shot on that blue winter day alongside General Monzanov. But that’s not how things came to be, and it’s no use being mad about something that didn’t happen. Or that’s what I tell myself. And you.

Of course even the thought of being discarded like that hurt me immensely. But I’ve finally understood the rational reasoning behind my oldest sister’s decision, and now I’m ashamed.

Remember when I speculated about Celestia having been under the gagargi’s spell? What if that wasn’t the end of his evil, what if he further exploited her while she was unable to comprehend which ideas were her own and which came from him? Yes, I mean what you think I mean, but I don’t want to write those horrid words on paper. If Celestia wants to keep it a secret, then I must respect her wish.

But, you should ask me: what makes me think that the gagargi is guilty of more?

I’ll tell you. You recall the visit at the witch’s cottage, the bargain my sister made with her, the bloody aftermath. What if the gagargi’s seed had taken root in my sister’s womb? What if the witch helped her to get rid of it? What if my sister hasn’t been since then suffering from the most irregular wretched days, but instead a condition much more severe?

As soon as I realized this, saw the pieces I somehow missed earlier, everything clicked together. The future of our empire rests on the shoulders of Celestia’s daughters. Which she mightn’t be able to bear anymore. And that’s the biggest, most dangerous secret in this house, something that no one else must learn, Scribs. That’s why I’ll be smudging this over right now.

Celestia had to choose Elise. There was no other choice. Really, there wasn’t.

Poor little Alina is so frail, with her mind rotting, clouded by things we others can’t see. She won’t ever be able to take care of herself. She will always need us to protect her.

And Merile… even if she’s both stubborn and reckless, she’s still our little sister, someone we must look after, though I don’t always much cherish that thought.

Trust me, Scribs, protecting her was the very last thing in my mind when I confronted her the day after the incident. I had to, because she’d acted beyond selfish! I had to make sure she understood that she’d placed all of us in grave danger!

I let her hear a proper lecture, with my voice raised, and slamming my fists against the oval table to punctuate the important bits. Merile replied with a tall tale about the witch and the magpie. Though Celestia and Elise remained customarily restrained, I don’t think they believed a word she said either. I told her as much.

There has been no sign of the witch since we visited her cottage. And she doesn’t do favors.

Merile cried and protested rather heart-wrenchingly, and Celestia and Elise opted to rather soothe her than further chastise her. But I refused to do so, because I knew I was right. We can’t possibly have anything more valuable to offer than the empress-to-be’s firstborn.

Scribs, it just occurred to me that Celestia has put herself at risk already twice, first when she bargained with the witch to bring Alina back from the realm of shadows and the second time when she saved Merile. Of course I can’t know it for sure, but I think that if she could, she would do so also…

No, I know that if Celestia had a choice, she would save me, regardless of the cost.

I’m much comforted by this thought. For lately, I’ve harbored such resentment toward her that I’ve wished ill things to befall her. Good thing she hasn’t spoken to me and I haven’t spoken with her that much either. She’ll never need to learn how much I hated her for a while.

But I don’t hate her anymore. No, I respect her.

Scribs, I’ll go to bed soon, and I promise I’ll speak with her then. I’ll tell her I’ve forgiven her, and that if there’s anything in my power to help her defeat the gagargi, then she will only need to ask. After all, we’re the Daughters of the Moon, both of us, and if we don’t have each other’s backs, then no one has.