Chapter Thirty-Two #2
I do not know how to voice the many questions swimming in my head, but in the end, there is no need.
Kolfina's face goes dark at the mention of him, and her hair begins to lash around her face like a brewing storm.
Her skin flickers in spots, portions of her cheeks and jaw peeling down to the bone before filling back in again.
It is as terrifying as it is beautiful, the anger that swims in her eyes.
"He was your husband." It's not a question, but Kolfina nods at Azizi anyway and holds up her hand to show us the small band on her finger.
I had noticed it before, but it was so small and unassuming, it never seemed like something to care about.
Now it looks encrusted onto her finger with salt and grime, the skin around it rotted away to the bone.
“What happened? Did he say something? Do something?”
The anger on Kolfina’s face shifts and melts into something more confused, unsure. Her form flickers again, her gaze trailing back towards the door.
“Darling?” Azizi prods gently, taking a step forward only for Kolfina to waver again. “What is it?”
The spirit backs away, blinking at us with those big, frightened eyes of hers, then turns to make her way down the attic stairs.
I barely have time to spare Azizi a glance of confusion before we rush to follow her, a feat that proves more difficult than usual considering how often Kolfina fades in and out of view. As if she is struggling to keep a hold of herself, as if there is something pulling at her, tugging her forward.
Whatever it is leads us down to the kitchens, and we find Kolfina standing in front of a large shelf of preservatives, that same confusion still etched into her face. She glances up as we enter the room, then points to the shelf.
“You want… jam?” I ask as I step up to her side, frowning at the full jar sitting on the shelf.
Kolfina huffs at me, rolling her eyes as she swats at the jar. It doesn’t move, but I understand her anyhow and easily slide the jar to the side, then the two behind it. To my surprise, I find a moth engraved in the back panel, nearly identical to the others littered around the chateau.
“How interesting,” Azizi mutters over my shoulder.
With a hum of consideration, she reaches out to press her hand against the moth.
Something behind the wall gives a quiet thunk-chkkk as the symbol flares to life with a blinding, golden light, and a moment later, the entire shelf is sliding to the side, revealing a staircase leading further down.
“A secret cellar. Strange. I was unaware this was here.”
A void of darkness stretches out before us, but as soon as I take a step over the threshold, the torches lining the walls burst to life with writhing flames, causing me to jump back again in surprise.
“Just a little magic, my dear,” Azizi reassures me with an amused smile.
She presses a hand to my lower back, urging me forward to follow as Kolfina starts her way down the stairs.
“My father uses similar magic in our family villa in Italy. Simple enough spellwork, for those who are able to cast it.”
“Can you?”
Azizi shakes her head. “No, and neither can most of my siblings. We were all mortal before our father turned us, aside from my youngest sister, Ana-Lucia. She was born with magic, as was my brother Dorian. He is the only one out of us who is born from our father, and he inherited his mother’s magic.
I do not think he practices it much, but I’m sure something like this would be within his capabilities.
Ana-Lucia too, if she was inclined to learn. ”
Before I have a chance to prod more, the staircase comes to an end, opening up into a wide cellar. The room itself is mostly empty, and if not for the strange symbols carved into what looks like every stone and surface, I’d assume it was nothing more than extra storage.
But it is something more, that much is clear. While I cannot tell if it comes from the room itself, or the symbols carved throughout it, there is a low energy that hums through the air, buzzing across my skin like a warning. It sends a shiver down my spine and settles like a weight in my gut.
“I don’t like this,” I say quietly, slowly stepping back until I’m stood on the bottom step, away from any strangely glowing symbols.
“Nor do I,” Azizi responds. Still, she braves a few more steps into the room, meeting Kolfina in the center where she is staring down at the floor.
A large symbol is carved into the stone beneath her bare feet, the others all arching and spiraling towards it like flower petals. It flickers with golden light when Azizi steps across it, making a dark handprint marring the edge of the design stand out against the stone.
“Is that—”
“Blood, yes,” Azizi answers with a wary frown. “Very old blood, from the looks of it.”
Finally, Kolfina looks up at us again, grief and anger at war in her gaze.
She holds out her hand, uncurling her fingers to show off a jagged cut across the length of her palm—deep and red.
Blood pools in the center of it, dripping onto her skirts and staining the fabric.
She presses the hand to her chest, smearing the blood above where her heart lays beneath the skin before clenching her fingers into a tight fist.
It takes me a moment to understand what she is trying to tell us, but it’s not too difficult to put the pieces together when they are staring back at you with dead, hazel eyes.
The fear that soaked into her face when Lord de Klein stood in front of her at the party.
The empty way she paces the chateau when her mind is wandering, always finding herself back in her music room where she is tucked away from anyone else.
The anger I see there now, lashing away at her in bits and pieces.
Like she is being torn apart and tossed into the waves and wind.
"You didn't kill yourself like the villagers said, did you?" I swallow, stepping fully into the room and raising my hand to rest in the air above her heart. "You didn't throw yourself from the cliff in a fit of madness... He killed you."
The storm calms. Her pallid blue skin grows pink once more, and her hair shines as bright as freshly fallen leaves in the autumn.
She smiles at me, and for a moment I can see the garden behind her teeth, the vines making way for blooming sunflowers and fresh, dew-covered grass.
I see the moonlight streaming down on a cliff's edge, feel the sharp stones beneath my feet as I step toward it.
I feel the freedom of the wind at my back as I fall.
It is blissful, for a few tentative breaths, until the storm returns with a fervor and the ocean rises up to swallow me whole.
He tried, says the echoing waves, but in the end, he did not succeed.
“But why? What was he trying to do?” I ask.
Kolfina shakes her head, looking over to Azizi with wide, pleading eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Azizi says, her eyes skittering over the various symbols around us, “I am not learned in magic. I do not know what any of this means. But,” she raises a hand to rest against Kolfina’s cheek when her shoulders droop in disappointment, “my father knows it well. I will ask him. We will get you your answers, Kolfina. I swear it.”
Fury gnaws between my ribs, and my teeth grow to sharp points inside my mouth. The monster inside me claws and scrapes for freedom. For permission. For justice.
There isn't just a hunger within my beast, but a protectiveness as well, an ownership. These two women, these divine creatures who have blessed me with their unconditional love despite the skin I wear or the darkness I hide... I cannot abide anyone hurting them. I won't.
And when I look to Azizi, I see the same determination in her returning gaze. The same promise.
We have, all of us, a monster inside our skins, and it is only for each other that we will let them out.