“I don’t really see how anything has been unfair to Rose. She has everything she ever wanted.”Including Sebastien.“If I don’t go now and see if they’re truly in love, I’ll end up with the same thing I’ve always had: nothing and no one.”
Moriah twitched the tip of her tail. “Do you know the tale of the witch Gornicka?”
Feeling defeated, Thorn sighed. “No.”
“When she was a young woman,” Moriah said, “the witch Gornicka attended a ball hosted by the royal family of her kingdom. As the daughter of a semi-noble family herself, Gornicka received an invitation, though at that time in her life, no one knew her for a witch. In truth, she had yet to realize the fullness of her powers, those that would later make her known and sought after throughout the world.”
“Notthatwell known,” Thorn retorted crankily, “as I’ve never read about her.”
“Gornicka dressed herself in a new gown,” Moriah continued without any indication she’d heard Thorn, “and attended the glittering function alone, as her other family had been unable to attend and she had few friends, and the ones she did have werenot the sort to be invited to a royal ball. She was excited to go on this special excursion, a true occasion, a departure from her studies and the often difficult exercises she’d devoted the majority of her years to. In short, she looked forward to an evening of frivolity and, perhaps, some flirtation.”
Thorn, finally wising up and deciding that she would only delay her eventual departure by interrupting further, didn’t ask if this Gornicka was supposed to be her or Rose.
Unfortunately, Moriah fell silent at that point.
“Well?” Thorn finally prompted. “Let me guess. I suppose Gornicka danced with the prince, he fell in love with her, and she tricked him into marrying her instead of whatever beautiful princess he’d been betrothed to. Then she was found out and punished in some horrible way like having her eyes plucked out by ravens or her feet burned to the ankles with iron-hot shoes. And I’m supposed to take caution from that and sit here all meek and obedient and not go to the metaphorical party.” She finished, out of breath from her rant, taken aback by the strength of her tumultuous emotions, ones she couldn’t quite put a name to.
Moriah gave her one of those long, slow blinks.
Thorn sighed, remembered at the last moment not to rake back her hair, pinned up as it was. “Fine. What happened to Gornicka at the ball?”
“She had a wonderful time,” Moriah said, a hint of bland surprise in her voice, as if she’d thought that much was obvious. “Danced all night, though never with a prince. That doesn’t really happen, except in stories. She drank a bit too much sparkling wine and so had a headache in the morning, but she didn’t mind.”
Thorn glared. Moriah sat, impervious.
“Thatis the tale of the witch Gornicka?” she asked, bewildered. “I don’t see how I’m to take any kind of meaning from that.”
If a cat could raise astonished eyebrows, Moriah did. “Oh, from the story of the ball? No. I just thought you might like tohear about it. Young people sometimes need a relatable moment. There isn’t always a message to every story,” she added chidingly.
Thorn felt thoroughly worn down—and she wondered if that had been Moriah’s intent to begin with. “Then whatisthe tale of Witch Gornicka?” she asked with resignation, hoping she sounded properly chastened and respectful.
Moriah waited a moment. “In the tale of the witch Gornicka, she casts a spell to make herself into two people, in order to confuse and foil her enemies. Only one of them lived.”
The hairs rose on the back of Thorn’s neck.Hero or villain?“Which am I—the original or the copy?”
Moriah stood, waved her long, black tail. “Even Gornicka didn’t know. They both believed themselves to be the creator.” The cat glanced back over her shoulder, emerald eyes unwinking. “Their story ended in tragedy. Yours doesn’t have to.”
21
“Excuse me?” Rose asked, her icily polite tone a cover for the lava of dread boiling up in her gut. She very obviously was not dead, and yet somehow the words weren’t as shocking as they should be.
Shoshan glared daggers and disgust. “Clotaire, if you’re trying to make some grotesque joke of—”
“I’m not,” he broke in, but keeping his focus on Rose. “The room is warded. For this moment, we can speak freely, but I will warn you that, should you ever speak of this to anyone else, we all will pay the price. You, your mother, your sister, Jada, me—we will all be put to death in the most painful method the Arbiters of Sorcery can devise.”
“I understand,” Rose said. Though she understood nothing at all.
At the same moment, her mother talked over her. “It’s not true,” she insisted.
He met her gaze and held it, then sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Shoshan. It is true.”
“What?” Shoshan hissed the question, her magic tightening the air so that it became difficult to breathe in the small room.
“Shoshan. Calm down. I—”
“Don’t you dare tell me that… I can’t bear to repeat any of this nonsense. Of course Rose didn’t die. As to the rest, I can’t… can’t…”
“Mum.” Rose put a reassuring hand on her mother’s shoulder, marveling at how eerily calm she felt.Maybe that’s becauseyouare dead and Thorn had it right, just backwards. Maybe that’s why you’ve always been so odd. Who wants to be around or touch acorpse?“Let him talk,” she said, her voice sounding like it came from somewhere else. “I want to hear this explanation.”
