Page 23 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Melody

Someone is watching me. Hungry predator eyes.

I jerk awake. Two gleaming red marbles watch me from the corner of the room. Sanguine gems, streaks of blue and gold leaking into them.

I sit up straight, staring at the sentinel, the outline of a man in the shadows. But when I fumble for the light next to my bed and switch it on a moment later, the figure is gone.

Outside there’s the faintest sound of heavy wings soaring in the skies.

***

I feel drained. After the incident in the night, I fell back into a restless slumber. I’ve forgotten my dreams as I always do, but I know it wasn’t a nightmare that woke me.

I look pale, dark circles under my eyes when I get up in the morning, meeting my reflection in the mirror. When I return to my bed after a brief shower, I find the drawings I left sprawled all across the floor stacked in a neat pile next to the bed.

I stare at them for a long time. The top sheet shows Riven’s stunningly beautiful profile. I wonder who put them there like that. Who has come to watch me while I slept?

** *

Today is the same as all the others during the equinox festival. In the morning, we spend hours preparing all the food for the festivities later. Two weeks, Nidaw said. My head swirls at the idea that last night might repeat itself. I don’t allow myself to think of any of it. Of Kyrith. Of the Dark Lord. Of the feeling of his hands on my skin.

I banish every thought of him, but useless shame crawls up my body nonetheless.

I focus on the task of cutting food and crushing herbs, doing my best to distract myself.

It’s easier here, in the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. It’s also the kitchen I like most. I truly enjoy watching the cooks conjure meals that look too fairy-like and fantastic to be true. I particularly like one of the chefs—if the fae call them chefs in the fairy world—a huge satyr with two massive, black gayal horns that protrude from behind his large, round, furred ears, fierce and terrifying. He has shiny black hooves, dark skin, intriguing blue eyes, and ink-black hair he wears in dreadlocks braided tight to his head, three golden earrings dangling from his earlobes.

Whenever he notices me watching him create one of his magnificent dishes, especially the sweets, he slips me something to try. This time, it’s a slice of a dark fruit that has a soft texture and glistens like licorice but tastes like a chocolate pudding in my mouth.

He laughs heartily at my wide eyes. I smile back at him shyly, and he slips me another before he stalks away, barking orders through the halls.

I’m licking my fingers when I catch Nidaw watching me from the other end of the room before she orders me over into the hall where last night’s celebrations took place.

When I enter along with the other servants, there’s no trace of any party left. The whole room is as immaculate and clean as it could possibly be, with the floors shining, all the furniture and cushions gone, not one stain to be found anywhere .

For a brief second, I find it hard to believe that it happened at all, that the high lords had been lounging right over there.

I must have been staring a moment too long because Nidaw says, “Magic.” The siren has suddenly appeared next to me, following my gaze.

I turn to her, startled. Nidaw rarely speaks to us servants during work time. “So why do we need to clean at all when magic can do this all?” I make a gesture with my hands, and to my surprise, she chuckles.

“It’s not our magic. It’s the Dark Lord’s magic, so it’s up to him whether he spends some of it on cleaning up.”

When I frown, she explains, “The fae world adapts to its ruler. It’s subject to his wishes, his ideas. He can bend it to his will—starting from this—” she gestures to include the whole building “—architecture, to even the temperature outside.”

“The temperature? So the Dark Lord turned it into a... desert?”

“No. It was a desert when he took over. He didn’t change much of it save for a little rise in temperature lately, yet he could—if he wanted to,” Nidaw finishes.

I can’t help but notice the gleam of awe in the siren’s eyes at that. There’s always a warmth in her voice when she speaks about him, and adoration.

“You once said you like him—the Dark Lord.”

Nidaw smiles at me with her row of slightly pointed teeth, then nods. “Yes, we all do.”

“I thought he can be—cruel?” I ask quietly.

Nidaw’s smile falters and turns wistful for a second. “Every ruler is also cruel, Melody. He has to be. But he was also the one who offered us a new home where we are safe after we lost ours. When no one cared for us lesser fae, apart from spitting on us. He never treated us any worse than he treats any high elf. This is why we love him.”

“So you don’t mind the curse ? Apart from not being able to go to town at night, I mean? ”

I try to ask as lightly as I can, but Nidaw narrows her eyes anyway, clearly not pleased that I’m bringing up the town again.

“No. A lot condemn him and what he represents. Yet it’s not in our nature, the nature of the water folk, to judge. We believe that, in the world, there’s no right or wrong. There’s never only light, nor is there only darkness. One can’t exist without the other. They’re interdependent, do you understand?” Her voice is gentle, kind, kinder than she’s ever been.

I want to shake my head, to tell her that I don’t understand, but Nidaw goes on.

“It’s always chance, Melody. Chance and choice. It’s in our hands, always. We’re not creatures without will, no matter what they tell us about our future, our fate. Don’t forget that it hasn’t been written yet.”

With that, she takes my hands and holds them in hers. “You are a part of this world, as you can see. Magic likes you; it welcomes you. It wants you here, home.” She touches my chest, as if to make a point. The question must be so obvious in my eyes that Nidaw chuckles again. “You have elven blood in you and, now in contact with magic, your fae blood is reacting to it.”

“How do you know I’m not fully human?” That Riven knows, well… he obviously knew my parents but Nidaw…

Nidaw tilts her head at me. “Did you never notice in the human world that you were different? You also wouldn’t have tasted chocolate in the fruit if you were human,” she says with a glint in her eyes.

It was a test, then. I push the thought away into the line of so many others I don’t want to think about—the fact that a lot of fae here seem to be watching my every step.

Instead, I say, “But my ears.”

“Your ears, your teeth. From a distance, they look almost pointed, have you never noticed? And your canines, not as large as elven ones, but not human either.”

I don’t know what to say. What that means for me. What that means for my parents. If this is true, one of my parents must have been an elf. The fact that I know so little about any of it hits me hard, but I swallow it down for now. Like I always do.

“And besides,” Nidaw adds knowingly, “you’d have already died if you were human. No human survives exposure to raw magic for long.”

“But why… why am I here?” My voice drops to a whisper. I will not allow myself to contemplate what Nidaw has just revealed. Not now, when I need so many more answers.

Nidaw lets go of my hands. “Because there was a prophecy, given by the greatest of the oracles this world has ever seen. By Kalleandara herself.” Her eyes widen with fear and awe as she speaks the oracle’s name.

“What does it say?”

The siren shakes her head to cut me off. “I know that this is why you are here. Fate brought you here.”

“But—”

“No buts. Remember what I said? About chance and choice. Fate is inevitable, but we—the siren folk and the nymphs of the sacred springs of Avandal—we don’t listen much to prophecies, because they’re always cryptic, always vague, and one can only interpret them. But no one, not once in history, has ever been able to predict the future correctly, not even the high oracles, even if they claim they can. It always comes down to choice and chance in the end.”

At that, she puts a hand to my heart. “Listen to it, Melody. I know you have the gift to see a creature’s true character. Use it wisely and be glad for what you are. Half-breeds are so rare, but so special.”

“Why? Why are they special?”

Nidaw just taps my chest again.

With that, she steps back and leaves me behind, more confused than ever.

***

Later, when the same taciturn servants come and wash me and dress me up like the previous night, all I can think of is the evening ahead of me. The closer we get to the celebrations, the more nervous I become.

My skin itches even more than last night when they dry me off, and I have the feeling it’s not just the scrubbing. I try hard not to scratch as they apply some flower-scented oil before they start to paint me gold again. Then Nidaw is back at my hair. This time, she takes some of the upper strands back and braids them into two buns she adorns with silver lacework, the rest of my hair falling loose down my body.

“Stop fidgeting,” she says, as she spins me around to face her. Then she applies some thick, black kohl around my eyes before she dusts my lips with golden powder.

Those golden specks on Caryan’s lips, mirroring the gold in his eyes.

The laughter, the humiliation.

The beautiful, blue-skinned woman on top of Riven. His head tipped back, his sensual lips parted.

I can’t think about it. Won’t.

When I look in the mirror, I’m frightened by my own reflection. The woman in there is a stranger.

“Adorable,” Nidaw says behind me, as if she somehow read my mind, gently combing one last time through my hair.

I look down at my hands, then say quietly, “You all are so beautiful here.”

It’s true. There is no one who is close to normal- looking, not by human standards. Here, I feel like the ugly duckling compared to the elegant way they move, the way they carry themselves, straight-backed and heads high, with their long necks and sculpted bodies and natural grace.

Nidaw’s hands pause at my neck. “And so are you, Melody. Look in the mirror. You look just like your mother.”

My mother?

“You knew my mother?” I ask, suddenly breathless.

Nidaw gives me a warm smile. “I did. She was an outstanding beauty, and you take after her. When I first saw you, I briefly mistook you for her. ”

I don’t know what to say.

“Was she human?” I barely dare to ask the question, not sure I can stand the answer after what Nidaw told me about humans who came to this world.

“No. She was an elf. A daughter of Evander,” Nidaw says, as if this should mean something to me.

“Wait—”

More questions suddenly burn on my tongue, but Nidaw’s already striding away. The two servants hold me back, their nails sharp as they sink into my skin when I try to wrench free, leaving half-moon marks in my skin.

I relent, my heart pounding fast as the sirens help me into the same dress I wore yesterday.

Eventually, I make my way back to the kitchen, more lost in thought than ever.

More lost than ever.