6. Esmira
ESMIRA
E verything ached as I stumbled down the riverbank just before dawn. I’d spent the remainder of the day and most of the night split between running and resting. Ragged breaths escaped my mouth, my chest hurt from exertions, and a coppery taste filled my mouth and soured the back of my throat.
But I had escaped from Methrin.
It was wistful to assume the beast had killed him, and the reminder of that whip-long tail made me shiver. A haunted memory threatened to rise but I pushed it away, the edges of my sanity already fraying. I didn’t need any dark memories to break me.
Stripping off the cloak and my slippers, I placed them on a nearby bush.
It was early, the pink-hued sky full of promise, the lavender-hued sunlight yet to awaken the sleepers.
Lulling ripples of the water inviting me to come inside.
Standing naked on the bank I hesitated, then lifted Methrin’s bag.
A hint of vanilla and smoke filled my nostrils as I peeked inside, pleasantly surprised to find soap.
My fingers closed around it as though it were made from gold.
I walked the last remaining steps to the water’s edge.
Soft mud soothed my inflamed skin and when I slipped into the cool water, goosebumps pebbled on my arms, but I did not let that deter me.
I scrubbed my skin until it was sore and washed my hair five times, determined to remove every trace of mud and dust. Usually I washed and oiled my hair daily, but now my shimmery mane was growing dry and brittle.
Beauty was fleeting while on the road but I wanted to hold onto it, the last traces of a life I could control.
When I finished a heavy weight lifted from my soul.
Still wet, I dressed and sat in the tall grass, unwilling to move while I gathered my thoughts.
Golden light streamed over the river, lighting a path.
In the distance, fishing boats bobbed, shouts echoed as fishers found success.
That ache returned to my chest, a yearning for a purpose, a place to belong.
My father’s palace wasn’t home either, it was temporary.
Even if I hadn’t discovered Mirror Magic, my life would have changed.
I let that thought linger and stretch. I would have become a wife, a mother, and finally, a queen.
A purpose laid out for me because of my birth, not a choice but a trajectory.
Now, ripped from the palace and blessed with magic I did not want, I had two things I’d never dreamed would be possible: freedom and a choice to make.
But now that I had options everything felt overwhelming.
The kingdom was vast and I was alone, my best chance at succeeding was to adapt a disguise and venture into one of the cities.
Work could be found somewhere, an inn, a lady’s maid, a tailor, a baker’s helper?
Even though I didn’t know how to do anything I could learn, was willing to learn if it would save my life.
My pulse quickened as another thought occurred to me.
Cities attracted many people, but they also attracted entertainment.
Namely, the Night Market. If I took up residence at once of the nearby cities, and the Night Market returned, I’d have the chance to find the woman who’d given me advice.
I was sure she’d help me, especially since I was free of the palace.
Hope fluttered in my chest, bringing me to my feet.
First, I had to find another city, but not the one Methrin and I had seen.
The thought of retracing my steps and accidentally running into a monster made me shiver.
I’d follow the river north but find a way to cross it soon.
A niggling reminded me that Methrin was also following the river but he’d be headed north.
Crossing and heading east would make it harder to find me, although east was too close to the palace.
If I truly wanted to disappear, I need to go further, into lands where I would not be searched for.
Leaving my still wet hair to dry in the sun, I lifted Methrin’s bag, putting one foot in front of the other.
The land opened up, giving a glorious view of the sky, hues of blue and violet, the twin moons visible even in daylight.
I trailed my fingers though the tall grass, watching the turtles sunbathing by the bank, and frogs splashing through the mud.
For the first time since I’d discovered Mirror Magic, hints of peace enveloped me and I lifted my face to the sun, secure in the hope that everything would be okay.
“Princess Esmira?”
My name spoken aloud brought me to a standstill. A knot of dread tightened in my chest as I turned. Had Methrin found me?
Instead of the Wicked Prince there was a man on horseback, holding the reins in one hand as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.
I didn’t recognize him but it was clear he’d recognized me.
Instead of stopping and confirming his suspension, I should have kept walking and ignored him.
Frustrated at myself for my stupidity, I weighed my options.
It was impossible to outrun a horse and since I wasn’t a strong swimmer, jumping into the river would only give me a short reprieve.
The man dismounted, hands raised as though I were a wild horse he might frighten away. “We’ve been looking for you,” he called.
We? I blinked. He wore the familiar red and black with a sword strapped to his side.
Venator.
My vision went red. I dropped the bag and ran.
“Wait!”
Footsteps pounded behind me.
Blood roared in my ears, drowning out the rest of his words. I’d be caught, returned to the palace. Executed. One hundred knives sinking into my flesh.
My foot caught on the sharp edges of a rock, sending me to my knees. A scream ripped from my throat as hands grabbed my shoulders. I flailed and then came a blow to my head .
Everything went hazy for a moment, then came a pounding.
“Why did you strike her? She’s the Princess?” my pursuer asked.
“Because she’s one of them,” came a gravelly response.
No. Not him.
My stomach roiled but I managed to push myself upright. Two Venators stood over me. One was the man who’d chased me. The other was the Captain of the Venators, a look of delight on his cruel face.
I leaned over and heaved.
He squatted beside me, capturing my chin between his finger and thumb, forcing me to look at him. “I told you we’d continue our conversation.”
I wished I were brave and could spit in his face. I wished my body would stop trembling, and most of all I wished my glowing hands would stop betraying me.
“How did you find me?” I rasped. Something trickled down the side of my head and when I wiped at it my hand came away bloody.
“Call it a lucky accident, call it fate. Magic always leaves a trace and I always find my prey.” He squeezed my chin harder before letting go and pivoted to the other man. “Good work, go join the others, we need to test her blood.”
Panic rippled over me as the other man nodded and walked away, leaving me alone with the Captain. A dark glimmer shone in his eyes as he delighted in my fear. “What have you done?”
I pressed my lips together, words failing as he leaned over me, fingers going to my throat.
I cried out as he ripped the cloak away from me, sneering as he took in my dress, the same one I’d been wearing the last time he saw me.
The look in his eyes made my skin crawl and I tried to yank away but he grabbed my arm.
Sliding a blade out of his belt, he held it against my skin.
“Please don’t,” I begged, straining to rip myself out of his iron grip.
He licked his lips. “How I shall enjoy bleeding you and dragging you back to your father. A traitor. Just like your mother. I warned him but he wouldn’t listen, and now you’ve showed your true alliance to the darkness. To the Wicked Prince.”
“My mother wasn’t a traitor,” I protested. “And I’m not allied to the Wicked Prince.”
“So you say, but your hands glow, and when I bleed you, your blood will run silver. I could cut you from nose to navel just to prove you carry Mirror Magic.”
A hiss of pain left my lips as the knife cut through a thin layer of skin. Blood pooled out but he was quick, catching it in a vial.
Horse hooves pounded, and in moments we were surrounded.
The trembling became impossible to control as the Captain of the Venators stood to his feet and held up the vial of my blood.
“Princess Esmira has been found, just as the king commanded. However, she is harboring Mirror Magic and might even be the traitor who released the Wicked Prince. This is proof that she betrayed us all.”
My mouth went dry as I watched my blood in the vial. At first it had been crimson but now it shifted, turning silver.
Shocked rippled across those gathered. Hands shifted to belts and whispers went up.
“Mirror Magic.”
“But it’s the Princess.”
“Rules are rules.”
“What a witch.”
“She is responsible for our suffering.”
“How could she betray us?”
“It’s always the ones who pretend to be innocent.”
“We should kill her.”
“Slit her throat before she can harm us.”
The Captain turned back to me, a grim smile on his face. Then he turned back to his men. “She is a prisoner and will be taken back to the king for judgment. Have no fear, just as he did with the queen, he will have her executed.”
My mind whirled, and even though I was surrounded by Venators a darkness flickered at the edges of my vision.
Something visceral rose inside. Had my father executed my mother?
No. It was impossible. A lie the Captain told to get a rise out of me.
The tingling in my fingers grew stronger and I rose on my knees, a wail bursting from my throat.
“Tie her up, we ride for the palace,” the Captain commanded.
The circle of horses broke. One of the Venators came forward with a rope and roughly tied my hands behind my back, unmindful of the knife cut on my arm. My skin burned as it rubbed against fabric, blood ruining my gown.
Tears filled my eyes. I wasn’t strong, not like the prisoners who were rounded up, captured, tortured before execution. A need to beg for my freedom rose even though it would be worthless, and magic, what good was it if I didn’t know how to use it?
The air in front of me flickered then waved. A shape took form, but this time it wasn’t the black shadow but a mirror. In the reflection I saw myself, kneeling on the ground, blood matted on my head, hands bound. Behind me stood a few Venators who’d dismounted.
The mirror hung, suspended in the air. Mist rolled over it and suddenly out climbed a dark figure, a shadow. Except as it pulled back the cowl of its velvet cloak, baring its head, I recognized Methrin and his face was murderous.
The moment he stepped out the mirror vanished, leaving only a trace of smoke and the scent of umber.
Something long sparkled in his hand and a low growl came from his throat. He charged one of the Venators and blood went flying. The warm arc of it splattered across my face as Methrin attacked the Venators. I heard myself screaming as everything descended into chaos.
The Venator behind me went for his dagger but I was already scrambling away. Air whistled as he swung at me, the knife catching, ripping my skirt. The sharp edges scraped against my skin and I fell to my knees again, off balance without my arms to support.
Get up. Get up.
Salty tears ran down my cheeks as I struggled to move, understanding the struggle against life and death.
I’d never been near battle, hadn’t seen blood drawn in such a violent manner.
And Methrin himself was more terrifying than any of them.
He pounced on the Venator who’d attacked me, and I ducked as more blood splattered.
Groans surrounded me, weapons clashed and cries of death erupted across the meadow, shattering the peace. The air was thick with death, ruined by it, and in my panic I stumbled over my two feet, desperate to flee from the horror, from bloodshed and battle.
I’d barely made it up the bank when it all stopped, leaving a ringing in my ears.
A hand grabbed my bleeding arm. I screamed and kicked out, but powerful arms yanked me against a hard body.
I looked up into the furious face of Methrin. His eyes blazed gold, and there was such fury in them I thought he might burn me alive. Something shiny dropped from his hand and I followed its trajectory to the ground. It was a long, jagged piece of the mirror covered in gore and blood.
My stomach roiled as he yanked the rope off my hands, still holding me tight.
“Never leave my side,” he snapped. “Never!”
Then he dragged me toward the horses.