Natalie Yacobson "Rhianon-4. Secrets of the Celestials"

“That is a moot point,” Douglas, not at all frightened by the height that separated him from the floor, jumped down and stood before the bewildered prince. “All I can say is that I’ve never seen her before, and I have no idea if I’ll like her.”

“I can’t help liking her,” Conrad protested confidently. He was stupid, like all lovers. Douglas gave a contemptuous chuckle.

“She is not a book of witches. I only get passion from books.”

“You can have as many as you like if you help me.”

There was so much the boy didn’t understand. Besides, he was entirely in his hands. They must have looked strange, the overdressed but so tired prince and the ever-young sorcerer with the dyed-black hair. Two young men with different destinies and Douglas sensed someone else standing beside them, remaining invisible and impossible to drive him away because his name was Fate. The wizard could only hope that this fate was following the young prince and not himself. If they were bound together by a common cause, it did not mean that their fates would soon be intertwined so closely that the black menace that loomed over one would shadow the other. In addition, Douglas did not consider a small sorcerer’s favor to be a big deal. He often did petty favors, casting spells, casting spells, depriving people of their minds, making them sick, punishing those who did not please him, or fulfilling the orders of others. It was all nonsense. He could do so much more. Each service had its own price. What would he charge Conrad? Douglas smirked carnivorously as he pondered this.

“Well, you’ve ruined her scarf,” Conrad said as if he’d just now noticed the bloodstains, and he looked discouraged. “How could you.”

Douglas exhaled sharply. The stars say this whole kingdom could soon go toВ hell, and this clumpy boy is bemoaning the fact that some rag is ruined.

“You know, sometimes you have to make sacrifices to get what you want,” he hinted cautiously.

“But not like this…”

“What do you want to have, the girl or a ribbon of her hair? If only the latter, I can get it for you now without difficulty.”

“Indeed you can?” Conrad looked up at him with interest.

What a fool. Douglas almost cursed. Even the spirits circling the distant ceiling seemed to be laughing at his stupid client. Good thing they weren’t throwing scraps of books at him. They like to make fun of those whom they themselves have almost driven mad. With some experience in casting spells, Douglas had no doubt that something supernatural could be the cause of such love. He could have offered his help and slightly cooled the hot blood of the lover, but it would not have been to his advantage. Sick of his dream, Conrad was willing to do anything. If he were cured of it, he would be harder to control.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to meet this Rhianon, if she’s capable of depriving others of their willpower,” he muttered to himself. He wondered if she was a fairy. They were the only ones who could make mortal young men go mad, but he shrugged the thought off instantly. There was something even more dangerous here than an encounter with fairies. The stars revealed little to him, but everything. Yet even that was enough to make Douglas wary.

“You won’t want her ribbon or herself when you find out what she’s done?”

“Oh, come on…”

“I mean it,” Douglas gave the prince a long look. “The scarf you’re clutching in your hands now has the blood of several birds and other creatures that had to be slaughtered to attack the trail. You know spells require a relationship. But that’s not what I mean… The price of those tiny lives is nothing compared to what your princess can bring to Loretta.”

Conrad could barely restrain himself from speaking angrily.

“I told you I don’t care what it costs,” he grumbled.

“I remember. I have a good memory. I don’t forget anything that’s happened in the past, but I can also tell the future.”

“Then predict that I will succeed. And if you can’t predict it, then conjure it up.”

“I wish it were that easy.”

“It’s complicated for you,” Conrad said angrily. “Have you even found out where she is? You still haven’t told me where she is.”

“It would have been better if you hadn’t known,” Douglas shrank back, and the stiff dark strands fell to his forehead and covered his eyes. And well, his interlocutor wouldn’t see the golden spark that flashed through his pupils.

“Where is she?” Conrad darted forward, catching the wizard by the shoulder before he could even look away from the multicolored, magnetic eyes, one dark and the other blue.

Douglas grinned faintly at the corners ofВ his lips.

“She’s with someone else. Do you understand?”

The news struck like a sword. Only Conrad recovered quickly. Passion gave way to rage. He squeezed the wizard’s shoulder as if the man were his rival. He could kill now.

“I don’t believe that.”

“You just don’t want to believe it.”

For a moment Conrad looked away. He tried to calm himself, and he couldn’t. His fingers clutched frantically at the hilt of his sword trembled a few times.

“Very well,” the prince said, as he struggled to contain his outburst. “Now I have two questions for you: where is she, and who is he?”

“Well, he has blond hair and blue eyes…” Douglas didn’t know how to lay the whole truth beside him. “It began here.”

He led the prince toВ aВ map spread out on the table and pointed toВ the right place.

“You see this path, highlighted in red. I underlined it for you. This is the path she took, even though your warriors didn’t find anyone there, but she passed through here. At this point, right in the deep woods, she managed to find friends. I drew a campfire at the place where they first met, because they met at the campfire. And this dot, in the shape of a drop of blood, marks the spot where Rhianon met him.

“And then the line breaks off,” said Conrad judiciously. His eyes were suddenly unfamiliarly focused.

“Yes,” said Douglas. “That’s because she did not go further. She has a friend and she has nothing to run away for. She relies on his protection, and rightly so. She doesn’t even have to walk the earth anymore, because he carries her in his arms. You know, all lovers feel like they live in heaven.”

“I get it,” Conrad stepped away from the map and headed for the door without even saying goodbye. Obviously, he thought they were unnecessary.

“Where are you going?” Douglas guessed, but decided it was not unreasonable to ask the question.

“Where do you think?” Conrad turned around, showing a frantic look. Now there was no doubt that he had a demon inside him.

“You’re tired,” Douglas reminded me condescendingly, “you’re hungry and insomniac. You’d be better off taking care of yourself than running around the woods after some couple. I could give you an elixir to restore vigor and sound sleep.”

“You think I can’t kill in this condition?” The prince grumbled so angrily that there was no doubt of his certainty.

Douglas immediately gave up and took aВ step back. This was not the time toВ dictate termsВ yet.

“I think, Your Highness, that you can make that decision yourself without me,” he said, bowing in a courteous bow. Only the departing Conrad did not see his eyes flash insidiously. All he heard was the click of the lock opening unassisted. But the whirr of an owl, more like a chuckle, did not reach his ears.

Immediately after the battle, Madael took her toВ his tower. He said he had urgent work toВ do here. It seemed strange toВ Rhianon, but she was no longer afraid ofВ being alone inВ his tower with the ifrites and crawling creatures. Maybe she was just used toВ the strange surroundings. She settled down on aВ gilded chair, more like aВ throne, and waited. The fire inВ the great yawning fireplace danced inВ tongues ofВ black and orange. She had never seen flames like that before. It seemed toВ form into bizarre shapes, frightening facial expressions and even grimaces. Inside the fireplace, as if some sort ofВ spectacle was unfolding, depicting aВ tournament or aВ battle, she could see everything inВ the glimpses ofВ the scenes: fights, quarrels, crossed swords, rage, anger, and oddly enough, even an embrace. Passion and strife, it was as if they were one inseparable unit.

“First the embrace, then the battle, that’s how love always ends.”

Rhianon turned sharply away from the fire. She never understood who had said it, but she expected toВ see an evil charred creature crawling toward her on the marble slabs, but there was none.

She watched the flames again and listened to the echo of ghostly voices. With such interest she would not even look at the scene. The flames did not give clear visions or outlines, but the blurry scenes were suggestive of certain thoughts. The flames whispered and showed her something. And surprisingly, the heat from this fire did not awaken the flames in hers. Could it be that the fire here was unusual? In Madael’s tower, anything could happen. She no longer felt in danger here. Even the flames only showed her fascinating pictures and whispered something in a multitude of voices, but did not arouse unpleasant feelings.

She listened toВ the chorus, so quiet not even aВ whisper, but she could hear the screams, the threats, the clang ofВ swords and groans ofВ pain, and the terrifying cries ofВ those who were struck.

“It is the echoes of war in the skies,” someone said above her ear.

Rhianon looked up and saw an ifrit inВ the high wall archway. She nodded at him, not knowingВ why.

“I see.”

“Yes?” the monster’s claws clawed at the archway, its leathery wings fluttering gently, fluttering against the flames of the candle in the nearest lamp.

“I can see them, bodies pierced by swords but still alive, wriggling on stakes or spears,” she frowned, the images fuzzy. “They were beating in agony, and their wings were blackening. Even blacker skin, burning angelic curls, eyes blazing from within, like shards of heaven, from now on they will be black as coals, and full of such hatred. I even understand the source of their anger. To endure such pain is no joke. Anyone gets angry. You live and feel like you’re burning alive.”

“Like you?”

“Yes,” she thought and nodded. He was right. That was how she often felt because of the fire living inside.

“What else do you see?” The ifrit flew a little lower and sat on the carved decoration of the fireplace, like a bird on a perch. His sharp claws circled the carved panel above the mantelpiece. It was so huge, but it hung on the thin rung with ease.

Rhianon stared at him and didn’t answer at once.

“I see you as you were before, translucent and delicate and so vulnerable. One call from your master made you follow him. You didn’t know you would lose your golden curls, blue eyes, and ethereal body. It was a loss of innocence. Innocence is what I call beauty, inner and outer, not something else,” she hesitated. “I look at ugly bodies, and I imagine you as you were before.”

He looked at her skeptically.

“What do you imagine me to be like?”

She squinted as if she was looking at the sun and it might burn her eyes. She struggled toВ see his essence beneath the standing blackness and ash and burns.

“The blond strands below his shoulders, that rare golden hue that no mortal had, the eyes slightly less bright than those of your brethren, and the lack of that angelic austerity on his face that was common to the others. It was not even innocence, but naivety. You followed the others, even though you didn’t always understand what they wanted. You were always a little simpler than the others, so you were cuter. You didn’t care why you were there or who was going to be the master. Thus others drew you into their circle. And now that circle has become black. When I see you in a pack of others, I may not even recognize you, but now, since I have managed to snatch your former appearance from the past, I can see that I like it.”

That’s all. She couldn’t detect any other noteworthy features. The acolyte, who had listened to her, was dejectedly silent. She seemed to have hit the nail on the head. She didn’t know how. She’d just spoken her impressions out loud, and they seemed to be the right ones.

“I didn’t want to wake up the pain.”

He nodded his ugly and perhaps too big for his thin, long neck deformed head. Even noticing the rows of black teeth and bifurcated sting in its mouth didn’t make Rhianon shudder. It could hiss and spit venom or fire, and she was not afraid, for she saw the world as in an upside-down mirror. In his reflection, the monster was still an angel, and Rhianon smiled condescendingly at him, as if she were a queen in a tournament, encouraging the competitors.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she remarked, smoothing the brocade folds of her robes. “It wasn’t your fault for the war, nor is it your fault that you want to do something to hurt me now. Anger and resentment and anger at anyone who possesses all that is taken from you are but a consequence of being burned. I have no grudge against you. Even if you say something disgusting now, you still won’t hurt me as much as you went through yourself. And so it turns out that your revenge is meaningless.”

She herself didn’t understand why she was so selfless. Actually, she was not prone to pity or philosophical reflection. It was her own trials that robbed her of sympathy for others. It used to be that way. When you suffered too much yourself, you didn’t believe anyone else could be worse off. Now she was convinced of the opposite. These creatures had suffered far worse than she had.

“Do you always pity the disease that comes to torment you?” He asked arrogantly. “If plague or death touched you and tortured you, would you treat them with royal indulgence?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered honestly. “Self-sacrifice is not my virtue. I’m like you, and I don’t usually feel pity for anyone. But now the circumstances are extraordinary.”

He snorted, but kept silent. There were many unpleasant things that could be said, and there was much more toВ bicker and argue about, but both the ifrit and the princess remained silent. Perhaps they both should have realized long ago that the majesty ofВ the heavenly war and the horror ofВ its consequences here on earth brought them both closer together. They are both like two parts ofВ the same grand fresco, he aВ former warrior, she an observer who has come too close, so that the fiery wind from heaven is already blowing over her face. Having known one hell, they have become too close.

“You have no idea how close,” he responded.

Oh, he must have read her mind. Rhianon whistled softly. If his voice echoed dryly, like ashes, hers was aВ musical whistle. She wondered if there was ever music within these walls. Perhaps if ghostly musicians dropped by, though their efforts here were ofВ no use toВ anyone. Here, silence was more welcome, the echoes ofВ hell and the cries ofВ those unfortunates being mowed down beyond the infected valley byВ aВ terrible epidemic. Rhianon was somehow certain that if you listened hard enough, you would realize that the cries and moans and pleas ofВ all the unfortunates suffering all over the world reached out toВ the power. InВ part they caress the ears ofВ the local inhabitants, inВ part they only make them laugh and feed the black sorrow. For the inhabitants ofВ this place are convinced that no one will be stronger than theyВ are.

“Everything is proportionate to guilt, isn’t it?”

She perked up again when she heard his dry but heartfelt voice.

“I don’t think you’re to blame? Isn’t it a crime to stand up for your own independence?”

“We did it for him.”

“Everyone wants to be independent.”

“Would we have been like that for him?”

“What do you think? After all, it was you who followed him, not me. Only you can tell how and why you did it.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I don’t count. I was unhappy, deprived, pursued by enemies. It’s impossible not to follow someone who promises you deliverance and at the same time captivates you just by looking at him. To love such a creature is freedom. Chains are its absence.”

“Do you think we have not felt the same?”

“I…” Rhiannon looked away. She couldn’t understand why they felt so unhappy and deprived, but perhaps there was a reason. She was also surprised that there were those who had managed not to succumb to Madael’s seduction. After all, there were those who had become his adversaries. Could it be jealousy or envy? It could have been anything.

“When someone who looks like the golden dawn calls you, you can’t help but follow him,” she said out loud the phrase the ifrit would probably have wanted to say to her as well.

He was still perched proudly on the mantel, looking at her with aВ stern, impenetrable gaze. So handsome before, and so ugly now. Rhianon sighed as she looked atВ him.

“Don’t be sorry, Princess.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be sorry about us. We chose our own way.”

“And me? Am I being tempted? Did fate leave me a choice?”

“You want to be burned, too.”

“My burn is inside me,” Rhianon answered angrily, referring to the fire in her blood. It could make her feel like she was on fire. Just a moment and something could flare up, but not just next to you, but in your body and then it would hurt.”

“You have no idea how right you are,” the ifrit said thoughtfully.

Rhianon said nothing. She was tired of idle speculation. She was just trying to pass the time while she waited for Madael, so she got into a dialogue with the infernal creature. She should have gone and searched the tower for some magical wonders instead of talking to demons. No good would come of it. He had already managed to upset her, and he wasn’t going to stop. Rhianon never thought she would ever stoop to talking to such a creature. However, everything in her life changed abruptly and the most unexpected things happened. Now she was beginning to feel sympathy for all the creepy creatures that were nesting here. And it was only because they were the black army of her golden choice. Dawn is followed by darkness, and so a dark army crowded behind the shoulders of the radiant warrior. Rhianon could almost see such unimaginative creatures swooping on the bodies of fallen knights, tearing at the dead flesh and preparing to engage themselves on occasion. The mere sight of such creatures would frighten legions away, and yet Madael took his time leading them into the fray. He simply didn’t need to. He alone was stronger than them all, and he alone remained light. Maybe there was an injustice here, but this construction of things involuntarily fascinated Rhianon. She imagined the scorching burning sun and the immense darkness behind it. Oh, yes, that was exactly what a coherently plausible picture was. A scorching sun capable of burning everything around it and the surrounding clots of darkness. Rhianon had chosen the sun, but in the obligatory addition of it, she had also received the twilight. And now the beings who appeared from the darkness warned her that she could burn in the arms of her chosen one just as they had burned. Rhianon even thought of encouraging him, of asking some provocative question so that he would finally speak up about why he had turned to her.

The minutes passed, and she still pondered. Before she could make up her mind, the ifrit spoke suddenly, flatteringly and ingratiatingly.

“He’s like us,” he said, his voice sounding convincing for the first time. No name was needed to be given. Rhianon knew who he was talking about.

“No,” she said sharply. “You are not as beautiful as he is.”

“But inside…” Her interlocutor said thoughtfully. “Why should he be beautiful if he’s like us?”

“Perhaps he is more worthy,” Rhianon said, bravely defending her lover even though he did not need it. If he had heard that from any of his subjects he would have been a handful of ashes, but no one would have dared say that to his face. She is another matter, she can be tempted and tried to deceive, but Rhianon has tried to show that she does not succumb to lies.

“Is he?” the ifrit flicked his claws over the carving of the mantelpiece. He could have damaged it, but somehow there were no scratches, as if all the things here were enchanted, or if these dark claws could do no real harm, only frighten.