“We are the Daughters of the Moon. There are those who revere us and will refuse to take any payment. But there are also those who seek to gain profit from the distress of others, even ours. We may be able to count on goodwill, but we must prepare ourselves to also act cunningly when the need arises. One pearl is worth as much as those willing to help us decide.”
The train shrieks a steamy hiss. Sibilia climbs on the divan, on her knees, and peeks out through the crack between the once-white curtains. As I am sitting opposite to her, I catch a glimpse as well.
This town of Fornavav is as I have read from the notes of the imperial messengers. Here houses beaten gray by the winds border the one narrow street. Farther away, small farms dot the flat fields that snow covers for half of the year. The sky is blue, cloudless. It is a cold and quiet day outside.
“We divide into our usual groups,” I say. “Elise, you lead Merile and Alina.”
“And Rafa and Mufu,” Merile adds, squatting down to pet the dogs in turns. “Yes, my dear sillies, we would never abandon you!”
Sibilia rolls her eyes. She would be glad to leave the dogs here. Alone. Though fifteen and a half already, at times she acts immature. I can’t count on her maturing fast enough to become an empress in the case… No, I will not think of that either. We should and we will adhere to the established routine. “Sibilia, you come with me.”
As the train slows down, we lounge by the marble-topped table, waiting for the guards to come. Remnants of tea slosh in the cups. I catch a whiff of the smoky scent. It reminds me of the home we had to leave behind because I failed my family. The least I can do is to ensure that one day my sisters can return to the halls and hallways where they belong.
The train stutters to a halt. Tea spills over my cup’s edge, onto the saucer. The stain is shaped like a crescent.
“What if they won’t let us out?” Merile clutches Mufu against her chest. The charcoal gray dog licks her face with ardor. Sibilia cringes.
What if they don’t? Then I will have to argue our way out. This is the plan I conceived the night the gagargi’s spell broke. The letters I wrote in the carriage on my way back to the palace. The hawks I released to carry my plea to my seed. By coincidence and luck, both the ill kind and the good kind, the pieces that were missing earlier have somehow materialized.
Though my seed never replied. How could he? But in him I trust, for he is the one the Moon sent for my mother when I needed to be conceived.
“They will let us out,” I say in such a serene tone that my sisters have no choice but to believe in me. This is the power I have. This is the power each one of them must eventually learn.
Minutes pass, and my heart races. What is taking the guards so long? Why haven’t they come for us yet? Why has the established routine been broken?
My sisters trust in me. If I were to show any sign of nervousness or distress, they would soon lose their composure. I must not fidget with my bracelet. I must not smooth my hem too often. I may only continue to smile in the tranquil way that leads people to believe that I know more than they do, that indicates that everything is in order.
At last, the door creaks open. Captain Janlav enters, our blankets heaped over his arm. “Time for a brief walk, daughters.”
Alina and Merile run to him. And he… he laughs, head bent back, moustache vibrating. Elise, still sitting beside me, closes her eyes with a sigh so soft, so tender. Though Captain Janlav has forgotten her… It is as if a part of my sister wants to stay with him. Even if he is our captor, and hence due to report everything he sees and hears to the gagargi.
“Here you go, little Daughter of the Moon.” Captain Janlav hands Alina her blanket. Merile snatches hers from his arms. Rafa and Mufu bounce against him, waiting to be dressed up in their coats that are no longer quite white.
While Alina and Merile fuss with the dogs, I get up from my chair. Elise and Sibilia follow my example. I accept my blanket and so does Sibilia. But Elise halts before Captain Janlav and then slowly turns around as if she were waiting for him to wrap the blanket around her shoulders.
I don my blanket, curious to see if manners take precedence over his orders. I meet Elise’s gaze, and it is a calculating one. She isn’t doing this because she yearns for his attention. This is a test, I realize. To see if he…
He helps my sister to position the blanket around her shoulders just so, eager to assist her when he can. It is sometimes easy to forget who he is. A turncoat. The man who betrayed my family. But his manners aren’t ill. He believes in the cause that the gagargi whispered in the people’s ear. He believes he is on the right side. I can’t blame him for that.
“Are we ready now?” he asks. No doubt the other guards already await us on the platform. Belly and Beard smoke. Boots and Tabard jest. The guards are more relaxed now that we are far away from cities, the places where the revolution tore deep gashes. This far away no one cares. Whatever happens in the palaces, whoever leads the empire, nothing changes for people who live in the deep north.
We exit the train for what I hope is one last time. Just as I had expected, Belly and Beard smoke, Boots and Tabard huddle at the platform. There is no one waiting at the station, apart from a magpie, the bird black and white—and why would there be when the trains are scheduled to stop here only once a week? People here, they have learned that ignorance is bliss. As soon as they saw the train and the guards, they no doubt hurried inside, locked the doors, and shuttered the windows. They will not be peeping out before they hear the train depart.
The sun clings on the zenith, as high as it dares to climb during a winter day. It is freezing cold on the platform. The temperature sets against my ankles like icy chains. For surely it is that which weighs on my steps, and not guilt.
“Rafa and Mufu want to run around the station!” Merile announces. She is more cunning than I have given her credit for, it seems.
“Captain Janlav.” Elise links her arm with him as if he were still courting her. She asks cheerily, “Shall we go and see how fast they can run?”
He chuckles, though frost already forms on his beard and moustache. “I don’t see why not.”
But he studies me for a moment too long, as if there were something he was about to say, that no one else will say. What can it be? Has he learnt of our plan? He doesn’t say. He leaves with Elise, Merile, and Alina. The first part of the plan is set in motion.
I stroll down the length of the platform with Sibilia, the magpie hopping alongside us. Beard waddles behind us. I know it is him, though I can’t see him. His breath always smells of raw onions.
“My stomach cramps,” Sibilia says.
I hear Beard stumble, halt. He doesn’t want to hear a single thing more about Sibilia’s wretched days. She excels in describing them. She has had a lot of practice. This, too, is a routine we have carefully built up, a topic of conversation we know the guards don’t want to overhear.
We reach the end of the platform and the narrow plank stairs there. I barely dare to glance to my left, at the stables that should be there, for the person who should be waiting for us. For it is such a long time since I wrote the letters, since my hawks flew off. So many weeks separate us from that night. Is it really possible that a plan conceived in such a way could work?
“There’s someone waving at you,” Sibilia whispers, plump cheeks glowing red.
It is only then that I dare to look.
The man dressed in a wolf’s fur coat tends to the brown horses harnessed before a troika even as he waves at me. His collars are drawn up against his bearded cheeks, but his cap doesn’t quite hide his missing eye and the scarred face. It is my seed, General Monzanov, but I can’t afford to bask in joy even for one heartbeat.