5. Ofelia
5
Ofelia
W e spent one night in an inn, where Lope insisted upon sleeping on the floor so that I could have the bed to myself. I knew she would ignore any of my protests, so I let her have her stubborn chivalry. This was our one night when we would be sheltered and safe. I savored every minute of it. We whispered to each other in the darkness until I was enfolded in sleep.
The next day, we traveled as fast as the horses would allow. And the journey was marvelous. Rolling hills and sunflower fields passed us, great pastures of green and yellow, hushed forests with winding paths carved through. Little veins leading to the beating heart of Le Chateau. My own pulse quickened as we inched closer. I imagined a string pulling on my chest, pulling me home, to Mother.
But night fell.
Lope was right. There weren’t any cities nearby; none that I could see, even when I squinted at the horizon. No steeples, no towers, no silos, no hovels. Just the dark, cloudlike wisps of trees in the distance.
I sat beside Lope on the driver’s bench, her cloak wrapped tight around me like a blanket. I kept my gaze affixed to the horizon, waiting, longing for the palace to appear. The night dragged on, every minute torturous, filled with the fear that a monster lurked nearby. I watched the sky darken and then turn a deep dusty blue with the pearl-white moon faint and low in the sky.
“Should we find shelter?” I whispered, my voice and my body drooping with fatigue.
“We’ll reach Le Chateau soon, my lady,” she said, “but until then, we cannot stop.” I held on to her words like an anthem, one that tolled in my head again and again and brought me hope.
Then, gloriously, wonderfully, I saw a small shape in the distance. Rounded at the top like the dome of a building.
No, smaller. A slender neck and shoulders. It was a person.
No.
Lope glared at the shape like it had offended her. Then she held tight to my wrist.
“Shadows,” she whispered.
My heart ricocheted just at their name. “What should we do?”
“Hold on to your knife.”
I gripped the dagger, covered in its sheath. My heart throbbed in my throat. Could I, a girl who’d only ever wielded an embroidery needle, face down and kill a Shadow ? Especially after the last time?
“We’re going to try to outrun it,” she said.
At her command, I held tight to the little wooden railing on the right of the bench. She lashed the reins of the horses. They lurched forward, picking up into as much of a gallop as they could, bearing the weight of the wagon. The messenger bag and the crates in the back jostled and slid about as we raced forward.
In the distance, the Shadow began to shrink, like it was melting into the earth.
Over the clamor of hooves and the shaking of the wagon, I cried, “I think it fled!”
As soon as the words left my lips, some great force slammed into the wagon, turning the bench on its axis and sending me careening.
I was pitched out of the wagon, tumbling forward and crashing to the grass, landing on my back. All the breath was kicked out of my lungs. Looking up, the stars spun around in the sky.
“My lady!” Lope’s voice bounced around in my head, sharp and full of panic. I wobbled into sitting, the back of my head throbbing, and looked around.
The wagon was tilted over, and our horses were thrashing about on their sides, trying and failing to stand—and each was held down by a creature as big as I was, black as the sky, with large, cavernous mouths hanging open over the horses’ faces.
When I shut my eyes to blink, memories spun around me, unstoppable as a dance. The evening in the garden. The day at the wall. Mother. A scream. An endless, hungry mouth. Falling. Breath. Arms. Blood.
I frantically patted the grass around me, reaching before I even remembered what for. A knife , I recalled, I need my knife .
My hand shook violently as I found it a few feet away, rolling to my feet as I tore it from its sheath. Dim moonlight bounced against it, pure white against the darkening world around me.
Something grabbed hold of my neck, throwing me back onto the earth. Above me, there was an open mouth, a void, and a horrible, groaning, hissing sound—
“My lady!” cried Lope.
I thrust the dagger above my head, stabbing madly but missing. The creature withdrew from me, scuttling backward on clawed feet.
Leaping out from behind the wagon, Lope tackled the creature, her sword drawn and plunging straight through the monster’s head. In only a second, it went limp and then disappeared into black smoke.
“Aim for the head,” she said, her chest heaving as she jerked the sword out of the ground she’d planted it in. She waved me close, and I ran to her side, my free hand tangling with hers.
That’s when I saw them.
Aside from the Shadows atop the horses, there were at least ten others. Four or five climbing the wagon, their eyeless, blank faces swiveled toward us. To my right, another six or more, like a crowd of people, watching me.
Lope squeezed my hand.
I looked into her eyes, and for just a second, the world paused. Her eyes shone bright as steel, and my heart ached at the devotion, the ferocity, the bravery painted so clearly across her face.
“I’ll protect you,” she whispered. “Don’t move.”
I’d obey her every order. I’d trust her with my life. Always.
A Shadow jumped forward, clawed hands reaching for Lope’s throat. In one swift move, she pierced her sword through its head. It crumpled to the ground and then dissolved into the air. With her other hand, she took a knife from the strap around her chest and ran in front of me toward the mass of Shadows. Yet to my horror, the monsters melded together, becoming one creature with many heads, a towering wave of darkness looming over Lope.
Another, smaller Shadow darted across my vision, as if chasing the horde of Shadows toward Lope. Before it could get any farther, I cried out, “Stop!”
The sound of my voice was enough to make the smaller Shadow swivel its body. It hissed, and then in a blink, it was bounding toward me on all fours.
Fear pierced my heart, but more than that, rage, rage at the thought that this beast would go after Lope. I sprinted toward the monster, anger flaring inside me like a lit furnace. It flung itself onto me and pinned me to the earth. The pain of the impact was interrupted by the pressure of the Shadow kneeling atop me, its jaws agape. I plunged my knife forward through its mouth, my fist going through the strange, swirling darkness of its body, wispy and cold like fog, and then out the back of its head. The Shadow fizzled into nothingness.
Just like that.
Just like that, I’d killed my own nightmare.
There was a retching, choking sound to my left.
Lope.
Plumes of what looked like black smoke floated around her ankles and seeped into the ground, remnants of the Shadows she had already destroyed. But it was not enough.
The monstrous, many-headed Shadow had one set of hands wound around her throat; another dug its claws into her wrist, making her drop her sword and let out a weak, strangled cry. She thrashed her other arm, wrestling to get the knife into the skull of one of the Shadow’s heads.
The creature split into two as it pulled her backward onto the grass. The head behind her opened its mouth above her; the one in front of her gripped tighter to her throat and seemed to grin as she screamed in fury.
They could not have her. They could not touch her.
The world was shifting, sliding, turning as I cried out for her, racing across the grass. I flung myself at the Shadow astride her, knocking it away, my arms around its neck. It bucked like our startled horses had; it grasped and scratched at my arms, even as I tried to plunge my knife through its skull.
I rolled with the monster until I could hold its head down with one hand. It howled at me. Fueled by the blaze of my own anger, I bore my knife into its head. Like with the others, that was enough—it disappeared, a storm cloud evanescing away.
My heart punched against my chest as I glanced back toward Lope. The part of me that knew her to be unstoppable expected her to be standing tall behind me.
But she lay there, paler than moonlight as the Shadow crouched over her and devoured her breath. It tipped back its head, like it enjoyed the taste of it.
And she wasn’t fighting back.
My body moved before my mind could make sense of it. I was atop the second monster, screaming at it so loud my throat tore. I jammed my knife into where its eye would be, again and again, even when I was doing nothing at all, only plunging the blade into the dirt.
The sounds of my heaving breath and pounding heart began to fade, and the more I breathed, the more I was able to come back to myself. I was in a field. On my way to Le Chateau. And Lope, Lope, she’d saved me a dozen times—
She was lying there. Unmoving.
I crawled across the grass and sat at her side, lifting up her head. Her eyes were shut. Her face was still and white as marble, half of it covered in dark blood. Her lips were parted and pale, nearly blue.
“Lope,” I whispered, urgent and sharp. Still she did not stir.
I shook her shoulders; her head slumped backward, exposing her silvery throat, covered in long red scratches from where the Shadows had held her down. I gasped and pressed my ear to her chest. The galloping heartbeat I heard—was that my own?
Again, I shook Lope by the shoulders, as if it would wake her. My face felt stiff and damp; my brain rattled about in my skull, making the world spin like when the wagon had toppled over.
A voice in my head remained calm and steady, the voice of someone wiser, a voice like Lope’s, saying, She’s dead, and you need to think about what to do now .
A life where Lope did not exist—the very idea felt like a clawed hand had reached into my chest and carved out my heart.
She had been my constant companion for five years, and even that didn’t feel like enough. I wanted every moment. Every laugh, every tear, and every part of her heart I had yet to discover. It wasn’t enough time.
The truth was like an arrow through my chest: This is the kind of love the poets write about . And I had realized it too late.
I wept. My hands fisted around the sweat-slicked sleeve of her chemise, and I pressed my forehead to her chest, letting her waistcoat absorb my tears. “Come back,” I begged her at a whisper. And then, desperately, to the gods I hissed, “Bring her back, please. ”
My name drifted through the air, whispered and faint.
I lifted my head.
Lope’s eyes were open. Red veins bloomed across the whites of her eyes. She blinked.
I threw my arms around her neck, my laughter delirious and high-pitched.
“You’re alive!” I squeaked.
“I’m sorry.” Even her whisper was hoarse, broken from the damage the Shadows had done to her throat.
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked through my tears, leaning back to scowl at her—but she looked so frail. Her eyes were steadfast upon me, but her lips barely moved. Her eyelids continued to droop, like she was about to fall into a long, deep sleep. I pushed damp strands of graying hair from her blood-soaked temple. My heart was learning a new rhythm, I am in love with her .
“We need to get help,” I whispered.
“Go on.” She clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. Sweat beaded on her brow and she pulled herself up half an inch before collapsing back onto the ground. Her chest rose and fell like a bellows desperately trying to make a fire grow. “Go—go on to Le Chateau without me.”
“Are you mad?” I cried. “I can’t leave you, not in the state you’re in!”
Of all things, her full lips curved into the slightest smile. “You don’t need me,” she whispered. “I saw you... I saw you kill those Shadows.”
I shook my head furiously, my hands trembling against her ice-cold cheek. “Don’t say that. I need you. I’ll always need you.” Tears made my eyelashes clump together. “I won’t leave you behind. We must find help. Can you stand?”
She furrowed her brow and bobbed her head in a sluggish nod. “It’s perfectly normal to be tired after... after one of those attacks. I’ll just need to rest for a bit once we find shelter.”
Taking both her hands, I pulled her onto her feet. She abruptly slumped against my shoulder, her breath loud in my ear.
“Forgive me, my lady,” she mumbled.
She had nearly died saving me from those creatures, and still she apologized; still she maintained decorum and treated me like I was the most important girl in the world. I sighed even as my heart ached, wrapping my arm around her middle to let her use me as a crutch.
A few paces from us, our horses lay on their sides in the grass, their eyes glassy, the breath stolen from their lungs.
I led her to the toppled wagon and let her sit beside it for a moment. Our belongings had fallen from the wagon, but not too far. I found my trunk and ignored the pretty gown I’d packed. We needed to survive. We needed only what was necessary. I dug my velvet coin purse from where I’d buried it beneath my gown. I found Lope’s knapsack and slung it about me. I swept up the traveling cloak and settled it around Lope’s shoulders. A few feet from where she lay with her head tipped back against the bottom of the wagon, Lope’s sword still rested in the grass. I fetched it, carefully placing it across her lap.
“I won’t ask you to fight,” I said. “Never again. No matter what you say your duty to me is.” I nodded to her, to the sword. “But I scarcely recognize you without that blade, so it’s only right that it should be returned to its mistress.”
Lope showed me a meager smile as she fit the blade back into its scabbard.
“Can you walk very far?” I asked softly.
She nodded and slowly, achingly, pulled herself to her feet. Her head drooped in a sort-of bow. “Yes, my lady.”
“Call me Ofelia,” I said. “Always Ofelia.”
I slipped my arm around her, holding her up. Side by side, we began to amble down the winding road before us.
Then, as we passed through the edge of the forest, parting like a curtain before us, we saw it. A collection of lights hovering in the distance. A city. My shoulders slumped with relief. Even in her exhaustion, Lope managed a smile.
“We’re almost safe,” I said.
She bobbed her head. “Just a few more steps.”
The farther we walked, the harder it became. My shoes squelched as I pulled them out of the slick earth with every step. The air was thick and eerily still, eerily quiet. All the same, I did not let my gaze waver from the lights, starlike beacons calling us home.
I defeated monsters and lived. I fought beside her. I did not perish. And I will not stop here.
As we neared the lights, they became more defined. They were not simply flames hanging in midair, but dozens of lamps lighting up walls of brick and limestone. They seemed to stretch the whole horizon, but the walls they illuminated were all connected, like arms attached to the body of a marble-columned hall in the middle.
My heart stopped.
This wasn’t a city. It was one building. A palace.
“Lope,” I whispered. “Lope, Lope, it’s Le Chateau Enchanté!”
The lights looked even lovelier reflected in her eyes. Her arm loosened around my waist. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
A long paved road led us closer to Le Chateau. We stumbled faster and faster toward it. Behind it, the sun was rising, magnificent and splendid, illuminating the palace and its entrance. Every bit of the gates, from the bars to the decorative suns crowning the top, was aglow, covered in pure gold. As we finally stood before them, I understood all the stories that said this place had been crafted by the gods.
Mother had to be inside. Who would want to leave such a place?
“Who goes there?” came a voice, low and rumbling like thunder.
I yelped and held tight to Lope as a man in a golden breastplate appeared behind the gate. He glared at us, but his look softened after a moment.
“Gods above,” he muttered. “You’re just children.”
I curled my hand around one of the bars of the gate. “I’ve come looking for my mother,” I said softly. “My name is Ofelia, and I—”
As I spoke, his thick brows pushed together. He pointed to Lope—her bloodied face and throat and the way she could hardly stand on her own. “What happened?”
“We were attacked by Shadows—”
“Robbers,” he said.
I shook my head. “No, sir, there was a swarm of Shadows not far from here—”
“We do not speak of those creatures in this place,” the guard replied, his voice low and utterly serious.
I glared. “What are you talking about? Just look at my friend, look at her blood —please, she’s injured. Just let us inside!”
The guard leveled a severe gaze at both of us. “To speak of Shadows is to speak against His Majesty.”
“We—we’re telling the truth,” croaked Lope.
He did not move. His eyes bore into me. “If you wish to enter these gates,” he said firmly, “you will never speak of those beasts. Do you understand?”
Part of me longed to shout at him, to call him a fool for ignoring the existence of such monsters when a girl stood wounded before him. Would we be turned away after we’d come so far? I had no choice but to deny reality to save the girl I loved. “Whatever you say. Please, just let us in!” I said, my voice fraying with desperation. Lope’s head had started to droop against my shoulder again. “Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”
He pressed his lips together. “There is a registration process for the nobility, but the fastest way in is to pay—”
Before he could give an amount, I drew the velvet pouch of coins from my pocket and placed the entire thing in his hand.
Something about the look in my eyes silenced him. He nodded and pocketed the coins. “I’ll get you a room and send you a physician.”
As relief swept through me, the knight backed away from the fence, tipping his face upward to the guard tower. The farther he stepped, the more my heart sank—was he playing us the fool? Was he just going to run off with my money, leaving us hopeless, helpless?
He lifted a hand to the brilliant, sunrise-painted sky...
At his signal, the massive golden gates soundlessly swung open.