Chapter 10: True Myth

Cosio Belecash was a famous mask-maker during the reign of the last king of Vynam. He was born in Sou, the state ruled by the Ulumie branch of the Canid family. My mistress had shown me drawings of his masks that were characterised by breathtaking traceries created with filigree, or life-like designs of ferocious wolves made with careful granulation.

Whoever had made Lady Golia Aspertin's mask had attempted, in every way and form, to imitate the Belecash style. It was a beautiful piece with gold traceries forming lace-like patterns around the eyes and hessonite garnets imbedded in the corners to bring light to the face.

The mask was formed like a wolf mid-snarl, down to the crease between the brows and the tufts of fur running in gold strings down her cheeks. It was a surreal creation, though, since delicate deer horns protruded from its top. Belecash would not approve of such a breach in tradition. One could only belong to a single house and wolves clearly didn't have deer horns.

She was a milk-skinned lady with honey-coloured curls that mingled with the yellow gold of her mask. Her dress was a fiery bourbon colour, highlighted with yellow trimmings and gold thread, meant to correspond, I supposed, with the season.

"My lady," I said, making a deep curtsy. As I bent down to show her the back of my neck, I noticed that the room was empty of servants. I wondered if there was still someone listening from behind the rich tapestries that hung over the walls.

Behind Lady Golia, on a low divan, sat a chestnut-haired, pale-skinned boy in a maroon cotton mask. The spectres never came for children, but they wore the masks from a young age.

He watched me with small dark eyes. I had never seen a child sitting so still.

She sat in her chair, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "You're late," she spat. "I asked for you an hour ago."

I had come as soon as my conversation with Afali concluded, but I wasn't going to defend myself. "I apologise, my lady."

Dylana had asked her sister to look into a matter before she left. What methods Kitlidara used to obtain her information had me worried—if there was a Tvereman spy here, in house Aspertin, I was going to be recognised. But what Dylana's original query had been was now clear to me. She wished to know if her secret was safe, and if Lady Golia Aspertin was now satisfied with the punishment received—she wasn't.

But the lion, the score...I didn't have the leisure to think of that now.

Lady Golia waited for my excuse, but I offered none. "You're a wretched little thing, aren't you? Have you no respect for your hosts?"

I knew that nothing I could say would please her. Her only intention with me was to be as displeased as she could. "I appreciate the efforts that have been made for me, my lady," I said.

"You? Appreciate?" She rose from her seat and began stepping towards me. I was surprised to discover that she wasn't actually as young as she had looked at first. Like Afali and Lord Aspertin, she projected an almost overwhelming sense of well-being, but there were lines of age on her neck and an obvious stiffness to her movements. "I doubt you appreciate anything that was done for you. You don't know how to appreciate."

"Perhaps you could teach me how."

"Don't pretend to be coy. You exist because of a man's weakness and mistake. You are a prisoner here and will be made to understand your place."

I took a step back.

"Afali has rained luxury upon you. Does she think you're truly her sister? I've had a cell prepared for you, Dylana."

I had to avoid provoking Lady Golia, even though she was bound to be provoked no matter what I said. But I had a different idea.

Control that is held relentlessly, was likely fail in an inconvenient moment.

So, rather wait for it to be gone, I chose to lose it.

"I second thought," I said. "You of all people can't teach me appreciation. Your mask tells me you appreciate nothing of the life you have."

As if my words were a spark thrown to a field of thorns, her answer was an instant blaze. She rushed up to me, invading my personal space. "Silence! I'll have you flogged for this, you wailing bitch."

"Bitch? Isn't that the word for a female dog? Don't the Ulumie use it always for their women?"

"Why, you—" Her hand flew, she meant to slap me, but my arm rose up to protect my face.

"How weak is my father to allow you to disrespect his house in this way?" I spat at her, heat rising to my face. I never saw myself as a violent person, until that moment. But I was ready to be, all control melting off me like ice in the sun. Golia confirmed to me that Afali was Dylana's sister, and therefore my theory was made into a fact.

She flew at me. I hadn't realised she was so close to losing control. A few well-placed comments and her rage held her relentlessly. I was stronger than her. I caught both her brittle wrists in my hands. She was thin, as if she had lived in poverty. "What did you think you would achieve by bringing me here?" I shouted into her face. "You imagined I was a threat to you and now you made it real. If your fears come true, you have only yourself to blame."

The words I spoke sounded eerily familiar, and then I realised that they were almost exactly the same words Marin had said to me the night she was taken.

Lady Golia wrecked her hands free from my grasp and took several steps back. "Guards!" she yelled, grasping the horns of the sculpture of a brass stag on its hind-legs that was sitting in the centre of the mantelpiece.

My attention was briefly diverted at the sound of the opening door behind me, so I didn't see her swing the sculpture in time. I tried to defend with my arms, but it caught me on the side of the head and I was sent crashing to the floor.

A trickle of blood ran over my ear and the hawk mask fell from my face, broken in two.

I felt a twinge of sadness to see it thus destroyed.

It was silly to mourn the loss of a mask I had stolen, but there was precious little beauty in the world and broken art twisted my heart.

The guards' strong arms hoisted me up to my feet. The room swam. Lady Golia stood by the fire, pale and shivery.

I caught Lady Golia's eye. It had worked, my diversion.

She hadn't, in fact, managed to ask a single question about Afali's plans. For once, I didn't even have to make up a lie.

I began laughing, making everything spin even more violently, making it easier to laugh harder.

"Get her out of my sight," Lady Golia said, her voice heavy with tears.

***

"Only you would be so conceited as to think that this is about inheritance." Marin had shouted at me through her tears. "Only you would see getting named heir as a punishment. Only you. I don't fear the work, the vines, the wine. I don't mind upholding the name. It wasn't a punishment. You gave me a holding and a fortune that was rightfully yours. I can marry whomever I want... whomever I want who isn't an heir himself."

"Marin, you know that's not true..."

She waved her arms in the air, grieved and frustrated by my behaviour. "Listen to yourself. Do you want to be blamed? Hate yourself for all I care. But stop making it about you. What did you think you'd achieve by coming here tonight?"

"I—"

"You imagined your way of life was a threat to us and now you made it real. If your fears come true after this, you have only yourself to blame, Yael."

"Marin, please, don't say that. It's...it's unkind."

"Unkind. Unkind? You chose to abandon us. You did. Do you think I don't know what you intend? This place is too small for you. We're too small for you. You want to eat out of the hands of lords and to have your name proceed you. Mamma and papá pretend that you'll always look back to find us..."

She stopped speaking, the silence punctured only by her sobs, and mine.

"I'm the only one who won't pretend that you leaving didn't kill us," she said and ran towards the door.

I stood stock still for a moment, reeling from her words. I had retorts that would twist her arguments against her, they burned my tongue. But the pain of the truth of what she said shot down my pride.

I cried her name and ran after her...

Too late.

***

I was never inside a dungeon before. I imagined it dirtier and as a cold as a wine cellar. But a small closed iron furnace in the corner of the small room kept the space warm. I had a cot, a chamber pot and an armchair. I didn't have to sit on the flagstones in my own filth like a beggar.

Had I truly been Lady Dylana, I would have been mortified by the mere thought of being imprisoned. But, for once, I was calm. The metal door of the cell had a grate at eye level, but no one watched me.

I was finally alone. There was nothing I could do. It was a freedom from myself.

A freedom that I didn't hold for long. A key rattled in the door, Afali rushed in. She grabbed me by the shoulders. And I smiled at her.

"What did you tell her?" she asked in a whisper. "The guards said she shouted at you and beat you. Father's furiouswith her."

I placed my hands over her hands, and didn't stop smiling. "She never got the chance to ask about you."

"Never got the—"

"When someone rages, they rage beyond reason. I made her so mad, she forgot why she called me in the first place."

Afali laughed, surprising even herself. "You..." She shook her head, clearly at loss for words. "You...you may truly be my kin."

"Try to remember that when I get you what you want," I said. But that was never going to happen. I was going to be gone before long. Like this, too many eyes watched me, too many ears listened. To find information, I needed to be invisible—I needed the freedom that a servant had. I had to destroy Dylana and create a new identity.

"Yes, dearest, don't worry. I want you back in your place more than anyone." Afali stroked my cheeks, her gaze moving aside as she thought. "Tomorrow morning I will get you fitted for a new mask. How about... white gold for a change? And... yes, we will do it like this. Dylana, you will be given a dose of serum tonight. We can't have you dull and weak. You'll stand out like a weed in a flowerbed. You deserve it and Lord Eloroan will be doubly impressed by you."

She pulled back and clasped her hands together. No doubt, Afali had been anxious during my meeting with Lady Golia. No doubt that the outcome was a pleasant surprise to her.

But for me, my anxiety mounted. The serum of the lords of the north...it was true. The magic potion that granted beauty and health, that made one's very spirit glow and lifespan longer. A youth that was almost eternal. Everything that I believed was a silly myth, it was true.

If I took it, I would be condemned. I wouldn't be able to pose as a servant. My nature would be altered to one that glowed, to one that was noticed.

But what reason did I have, as Dylana, not to take it?