Page 131
Story: The Scarlet Veil
Thunder rumbles in the ensuing silence.
Ah.I rest my chin upon my knees. Though I’ve never given Mila’s death much thought beyond Michal, he wasn’t the only one who lost family that night. Of course Odessa would feel her absence too. Indeed, I haven’t seen her spend time with anyone except Dimitri—she boasts no doting mother or fussy aunts, no peers with whom to banter or friends disguised as ladies-in-waiting. The realization brings an unexpected throb to my chest. To have only one’s brother as a companion... it must be incredibly lonely. “Michal said she wouldn’t be able to stay away for long,” I say when the silence between us continues to stretch. An olive branch. “He said the temptation to meddle would be too great.”
A reluctant grin touches her lips. “That sounds very much like both of my cousins.”
“Would you like me to see if she’s here?”
She returns the book to the table as she pretends to consider, desperately trying to remain indifferent. “I suppose... if it isn’t too terribly difficult.”
Sighing at her stubbornness, I close my eyes and concentrate on the hollow ache in my chest.Longing, I realize. More than anything, I long to know the truth about my sister, just as Odessa longs to see her cousin again. While the former lingers just out of reach—mere fingertips away—I hold the latter in my hands. I can do this for Odessa. I can do this for Mila, and I can do this forme;I’m not ready to search Dimitri’s room just yet, or to learn about Filippa. Perhaps I never will be.
As if in response, the cold deepens around me, and pressure builds to pain in my ears. When I open my eyes once more, Odessa gasps slightly at their newfound silver light, leaning closer to study them. “Michal told me about the glow, of course, but his description doesn’t quite do it justice. Howdeliciouslycreepy. Tell me—does it affect your sight? For example, does it cast a softer sheen over your field of vision?”
“Take off your glove.” With a rueful smile, I extend my bare palm in her direction. She eyes it curiously but tugs the glove from her fingers all the same; when her skin touches mine, she gasps again, eyes wide and startled at our similar temperatures.
“Fascinating—” The word seems to stick in her throat, however, as she follows my gaze and catches sight of Mila, who hovers on the mezzanine, gazing down at us with a rather sheepish expression. Warmth blooms alongside the ache in my chest at the sight of her. Apparently, Odessa isn’t the only one who missed her cousin.
“Mila?” Odessa practically drags me to the spiral staircase. “Is it really you?”
A small grin spreads across Mila’s face, and she lifts an opaque hand in greeting. “Hello, Dess.” Eyes flicking to me, she clears her throat with an awkward little titter. “Célie.”
I cannot help my own grudging smile in return. Odessa still blinks rapidly, trying and failing to master her shock and delight. “For a moment there,” I say, “I thought you passed on without saying goodbye—all that nonsense in the aviary aboutrefusing to haunt usand letting go—but you’ve been following us this entire time, haven’t you?”
Mila flips long hair over her shoulder and drifts to the lower floor to join us. “And it’s a good thing, too, as Guinevere never would’ve followedmeotherwise, and she proved quite useful in Les Abysses.” A mischievous pause. “I hear the two of you are the very best of friends now. How incredibly special.”
“Guinevere?” Odessa whips her face between us, clearly trying to piece together our conversation. “As in Guinevere deMimsy, that audacious little tart who shattered the windows to my laboratory?” Before anyone can answer—as if she just can’t help herself—she adds, “And ghosts cannotpass on, Célie. After the death of their material bodies, they must choose to either cross into the realm of the dead or remain near the realm of the living. Even you cannot reach those who choose the former, and the latter”—she glances apologetically to Mila—“remain trapped between both realms for all eternity, unable to truly exist in either.”
Mila rolls her eyes toward the chandelier. “Spoken like you swallowed the whole ofHow to Commune with the Dead.”
“I might’ve glanced at it,” Odessa sniffs, “after Michal told me he spoke with you.” At the mention of Michal, however, the humor in Mila’s eyes fades, and her face tightens nearly imperceptibly. Odessa still sees it. “Oh, come now. You cannot still be cross with him after all these years.”
“For your information, I am notcrosswith him. I simply don’t want to—”
Odessa interrupts with a scoff, shooting an exasperated look in my direction. “Michal turned Mila into a vampire when they were young, and she’s never forgiven him for it.” To Mila, she says sternly, “You weresick. What did you expect your poor brother to do? If I’d seen Dimitri wasting away like that, dying a slow andmiserable death, I would’ve done a lot worse to save him.”
My brow furrows at this new information. For the first time in my life, I can’t think of a single thing to say. Because Michal never mentioned any of this to me—and why would he? I thought him a sadist until only last week, and I made no qualms about telling him so. Still... inexplicable warmth pricks at my collar, which I tug fruitlessly away from my throat. I shared so much about my sister in Amandine. He could’ve done the same. I wouldn’t have begrudged him the attention.
As if sensing my discomfort, Odessa squeezes my hand but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge it. “She didn’t speak to Michal for years—years—and all because she too gave her heart to an undeserving ass like your huntsman.”
Mila exhales sharply, affronted, and crosses her arms tightly against her chest. “This has nothing to do with Pyotr.”
“No? He didn’t try to cut off your head when you showed him your lovely new fangs?” When Mila scowls, refusing to answer, Odessa nods in black satisfaction, the epitome of an older sibling. That ache in my chest grows tenfold. “Michal hasn’t turned a single creature since that day,” she tells me. “In his entire existence, he has sired only his ungrateful little sister, who still punishes him for it every day.”
Comprehension swoops low in my stomach, and his insistence—no, hisbelligerence—that I never drink from him or any other vampire makes sudden sense. Still... I frown at Odessa in confusion. “Who siredyou, then?”
She glares pointedly at Mila, who—for all her wisdom—does look rather younger in the presence of her cousin. Her arms still crossed. Her jaw set. Just the way she behaved in the aviary withMichal, who she seems to both defend and condemn in equal measure. “What?” she snaps at both of us. “You couldn’t have seriously expected me to live for eternity with onlyMichalas company. I love my brother—Ido—but he has as much personality as that bit of rock.” She jerks her chin toward the cliff behind us. “Except that rock doesn’t try to control my every move.”
The warmth at my neck prickles sharper—no longer discomfort, but abrupt and startling irritation. My mouth opens before I can think better of it, before I can stop the scathing accusation from spilling forth. “It hardly seems fair to hold a grudge against Michal if youalsoturned your kin into vampires, Mila.”
An incredulous sound escapes Mila’s throat. “As if you’d know anything about it! Just becauseyou’renow infatuated doesn’t mean everyone else is, and—and”—she lets out a groan of frustration, and her entire body seems to slump as mine stiffens—“and I’msorry. That was a horrible thing to say, and ofcourseI don’t mean it. It’s just—Michal is Michal, and he chose for me. Healwayschooses for me, and now I’m not even a vampire anymore. I’mdead. All of you have been galivanting across the world, having the most marvelous adventure, and I can’t go with you. Not really. No one can evenseeme except through you, Célie, and it just—it isn’t—”
Whateveritis, Mila can’t seem to articulate, but I understand all the same:fair. It isn’t fair. What did Michal say about his sister?
Everyone who gazed upon her loved her.
And now she’s invisible.
Expression softening, Odessa draws herself to Mila’s height by stepping on the bottom stair. “You know we all miss you, Mila. Even the villagers—no one begrudges you for Michal’s decisions. They resent the heightened security measures around the isle,yes, but they’ve never once resented you.”
Ah.I rest my chin upon my knees. Though I’ve never given Mila’s death much thought beyond Michal, he wasn’t the only one who lost family that night. Of course Odessa would feel her absence too. Indeed, I haven’t seen her spend time with anyone except Dimitri—she boasts no doting mother or fussy aunts, no peers with whom to banter or friends disguised as ladies-in-waiting. The realization brings an unexpected throb to my chest. To have only one’s brother as a companion... it must be incredibly lonely. “Michal said she wouldn’t be able to stay away for long,” I say when the silence between us continues to stretch. An olive branch. “He said the temptation to meddle would be too great.”
A reluctant grin touches her lips. “That sounds very much like both of my cousins.”
“Would you like me to see if she’s here?”
She returns the book to the table as she pretends to consider, desperately trying to remain indifferent. “I suppose... if it isn’t too terribly difficult.”
Sighing at her stubbornness, I close my eyes and concentrate on the hollow ache in my chest.Longing, I realize. More than anything, I long to know the truth about my sister, just as Odessa longs to see her cousin again. While the former lingers just out of reach—mere fingertips away—I hold the latter in my hands. I can do this for Odessa. I can do this for Mila, and I can do this forme;I’m not ready to search Dimitri’s room just yet, or to learn about Filippa. Perhaps I never will be.
As if in response, the cold deepens around me, and pressure builds to pain in my ears. When I open my eyes once more, Odessa gasps slightly at their newfound silver light, leaning closer to study them. “Michal told me about the glow, of course, but his description doesn’t quite do it justice. Howdeliciouslycreepy. Tell me—does it affect your sight? For example, does it cast a softer sheen over your field of vision?”
“Take off your glove.” With a rueful smile, I extend my bare palm in her direction. She eyes it curiously but tugs the glove from her fingers all the same; when her skin touches mine, she gasps again, eyes wide and startled at our similar temperatures.
“Fascinating—” The word seems to stick in her throat, however, as she follows my gaze and catches sight of Mila, who hovers on the mezzanine, gazing down at us with a rather sheepish expression. Warmth blooms alongside the ache in my chest at the sight of her. Apparently, Odessa isn’t the only one who missed her cousin.
“Mila?” Odessa practically drags me to the spiral staircase. “Is it really you?”
A small grin spreads across Mila’s face, and she lifts an opaque hand in greeting. “Hello, Dess.” Eyes flicking to me, she clears her throat with an awkward little titter. “Célie.”
I cannot help my own grudging smile in return. Odessa still blinks rapidly, trying and failing to master her shock and delight. “For a moment there,” I say, “I thought you passed on without saying goodbye—all that nonsense in the aviary aboutrefusing to haunt usand letting go—but you’ve been following us this entire time, haven’t you?”
Mila flips long hair over her shoulder and drifts to the lower floor to join us. “And it’s a good thing, too, as Guinevere never would’ve followedmeotherwise, and she proved quite useful in Les Abysses.” A mischievous pause. “I hear the two of you are the very best of friends now. How incredibly special.”
“Guinevere?” Odessa whips her face between us, clearly trying to piece together our conversation. “As in Guinevere deMimsy, that audacious little tart who shattered the windows to my laboratory?” Before anyone can answer—as if she just can’t help herself—she adds, “And ghosts cannotpass on, Célie. After the death of their material bodies, they must choose to either cross into the realm of the dead or remain near the realm of the living. Even you cannot reach those who choose the former, and the latter”—she glances apologetically to Mila—“remain trapped between both realms for all eternity, unable to truly exist in either.”
Mila rolls her eyes toward the chandelier. “Spoken like you swallowed the whole ofHow to Commune with the Dead.”
“I might’ve glanced at it,” Odessa sniffs, “after Michal told me he spoke with you.” At the mention of Michal, however, the humor in Mila’s eyes fades, and her face tightens nearly imperceptibly. Odessa still sees it. “Oh, come now. You cannot still be cross with him after all these years.”
“For your information, I am notcrosswith him. I simply don’t want to—”
Odessa interrupts with a scoff, shooting an exasperated look in my direction. “Michal turned Mila into a vampire when they were young, and she’s never forgiven him for it.” To Mila, she says sternly, “You weresick. What did you expect your poor brother to do? If I’d seen Dimitri wasting away like that, dying a slow andmiserable death, I would’ve done a lot worse to save him.”
My brow furrows at this new information. For the first time in my life, I can’t think of a single thing to say. Because Michal never mentioned any of this to me—and why would he? I thought him a sadist until only last week, and I made no qualms about telling him so. Still... inexplicable warmth pricks at my collar, which I tug fruitlessly away from my throat. I shared so much about my sister in Amandine. He could’ve done the same. I wouldn’t have begrudged him the attention.
As if sensing my discomfort, Odessa squeezes my hand but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge it. “She didn’t speak to Michal for years—years—and all because she too gave her heart to an undeserving ass like your huntsman.”
Mila exhales sharply, affronted, and crosses her arms tightly against her chest. “This has nothing to do with Pyotr.”
“No? He didn’t try to cut off your head when you showed him your lovely new fangs?” When Mila scowls, refusing to answer, Odessa nods in black satisfaction, the epitome of an older sibling. That ache in my chest grows tenfold. “Michal hasn’t turned a single creature since that day,” she tells me. “In his entire existence, he has sired only his ungrateful little sister, who still punishes him for it every day.”
Comprehension swoops low in my stomach, and his insistence—no, hisbelligerence—that I never drink from him or any other vampire makes sudden sense. Still... I frown at Odessa in confusion. “Who siredyou, then?”
She glares pointedly at Mila, who—for all her wisdom—does look rather younger in the presence of her cousin. Her arms still crossed. Her jaw set. Just the way she behaved in the aviary withMichal, who she seems to both defend and condemn in equal measure. “What?” she snaps at both of us. “You couldn’t have seriously expected me to live for eternity with onlyMichalas company. I love my brother—Ido—but he has as much personality as that bit of rock.” She jerks her chin toward the cliff behind us. “Except that rock doesn’t try to control my every move.”
The warmth at my neck prickles sharper—no longer discomfort, but abrupt and startling irritation. My mouth opens before I can think better of it, before I can stop the scathing accusation from spilling forth. “It hardly seems fair to hold a grudge against Michal if youalsoturned your kin into vampires, Mila.”
An incredulous sound escapes Mila’s throat. “As if you’d know anything about it! Just becauseyou’renow infatuated doesn’t mean everyone else is, and—and”—she lets out a groan of frustration, and her entire body seems to slump as mine stiffens—“and I’msorry. That was a horrible thing to say, and ofcourseI don’t mean it. It’s just—Michal is Michal, and he chose for me. Healwayschooses for me, and now I’m not even a vampire anymore. I’mdead. All of you have been galivanting across the world, having the most marvelous adventure, and I can’t go with you. Not really. No one can evenseeme except through you, Célie, and it just—it isn’t—”
Whateveritis, Mila can’t seem to articulate, but I understand all the same:fair. It isn’t fair. What did Michal say about his sister?
Everyone who gazed upon her loved her.
And now she’s invisible.
Expression softening, Odessa draws herself to Mila’s height by stepping on the bottom stair. “You know we all miss you, Mila. Even the villagers—no one begrudges you for Michal’s decisions. They resent the heightened security measures around the isle,yes, but they’ve never once resented you.”
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