here, but I try not to touch anything. I read it sometimes,» the wizard admitted.
«But your hands are still steady and you’re not blind,» she glanced at the scroll in his hands. «You’re not insane, are you?»
«I keep nothing,» he apologized hastily. «I only look through what I am allowed to and then put it back.»
«So you take nothing away from this place except stolen knowledge.»
«I only get what my already sold soul is worth.»
«So,» Rhianon shot him a curious look. «You know a lot about them.»
«It is not all of them,» he admitted frankly.
«I could have understood it all,» she said, reaching out to take the scroll, but then ducking back in time to look at it. She needn’t look at the strange symbols. She could imagine them anyway. The time of drill was over. She had become strong both mentally and physically. Knowledge that to others would be murderous was familiar to her. It seemed as if she could even penetrate Madael’s mind and learn all that he himself knew.
«You are special,» Douglas said. «It’s not that he chose you.»
«Then what is it?»
He stared at her face for a long moment, then he turned his gaze to her lips.
«It is something…» «Douglas never finished. Rhianon turned her gaze to his pale lips. His face resembled chalk against the dark jabot, but the arcs of his eyebrows and lashes stood out in seductive dark lines. He could have been handsome, but the magical experience he had gained had exhausted him. Around his multicolored eyes appeared a dark cusp. His hair, dyed black, had lost its former silkiness. Maybe it was punishment for him for taking the heads off all his competitors. Rhianon looked into his thoughts and experienced the horrors he had experienced with him. How he had been tormented. A boy who had fallen in love with Dennitsa and discovered his hidden talents, he feared that one of his brothers or kin would become his own rival. He demanded from the king heads of his half-siblings until he executed them all. Rhianon remembered the young man being dragged to the scaffold and the star he had given her. It was Douglas’s brother, condemned by him – who would have thought. It would have disgusted her before, but now she didn’t look away, following his thoughts. They tangled into such an intricate web, and the two multicolored eyes further accentuated his singularity. One eye was blue, the other eye was emerald. Only wizards had eyes of different colors, and not all wizards, only the most powerful. Douglas was a very special, but the struggle for supremacy nearly drove him mad. What was he fighting for? Did he hope that if he became first among the damned, he would win the sympathy of his chosen one? That goal had been relegated to the back burner. Rhianon saw what he was thinking and sighed. Her lips opened like gates, ready to breathe out fire, but she already knew that Douglas would not be burned. She leaned on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his. It was just one kiss. It was sweet. The supple cold lips immediately slid open to meet hers. Experience replaced desire. Surely he wanted more, but Rhianon was quick to pull away. She had no regrets about the gift. In years of torment and abstinence, Douglas deserved at least that.
«Will we meet again… here?» He gazed meaningfully around the tower beneath the high dome.
Rhianon shrugged. She hadn’t thought of having a secret tryst with him just yet, especially not here. Everything here held the memory of Madael, the intimacy and kisses of the fallen angel.
Douglas was losing badly against him. Yes, he was handsome, despite his black raven robes and forced celibacy. But he’s human, and while he’s a little different from the rest of mankind, he’s mortal, too.
«You waited too long for him,» she reminded him before she left. «Is it really all the fun in the world for you to wait even longer for me? It is all eternity, for instance.»
He only shrugged his shoulders.
«Some things are worth a lot.»
Rhianon was quite in agreement with him. Only unlike him, she wouldn’t wait in vain.
Six Spinsters
When she emerged from the towers, Loretta was still drowning in twilight. The dark streets were calm. Or did it just seem that way?
As she passed the well, Rhianon stopped and glanced down, apprehensive. Could Rothbert, out of spite, have let worms like those he’d let loose in the sewers down here too, to grow into dragons? Could there already be a dragon in the well? For a moment all she could see was a hunched winged silhouette, so much like Setius. Against the gleaming water below, it seemed a mirage made of moonlight. The creature lifted its head and stared at her with those same empty, moonlit eyes.
Rhianon merely shrugged her shoulders. They say that some of Dennitsa’s companions have fallen into crevices and wells. Those who dwelled in the water helped her take the city. The young queen was grateful to them for this. Now the underwater dwellers could get away, but they still found a place for themselves in the gutters and fountains. Perhaps, in time, a sea serpent would indeed appear in one of the wells, and a kraken would take up residence in the castle moat. Rhianon wasn’t too worried about that prospect. She could handle guests seeping through the water with ease. Unless, of course, there was an ocean nearby, fire would easily scare them off. Without water, they are nothing. Their tears for Dennitsa forced them into moisture for all eternity. Every time Rhianon spotted a new pearl in her caskets, she knew who had brought it, and the wet footprints leading to the gutter or bathtub said more about the visitor than they could say for themselves. Pearls were also a symbol of tears, and also of innocence. Those who now lived under the water had compassion for Madael and paid the price for it. On the one hand Rhianon sympathized with them, on the other she was concerned about how she would keep such supporters in line if they were to rebel. In the narrow streets of Loretta, where there is little water, fire would frighten them, but what would happen in the moat. For now it was best not to think about it.
Rhianon looked into all the wells and fountains as she passed. She saw water droplets silvery on mermaid scales, unusual fish splashing in someone’s tubs, living pearls gliding down the gutter, supported by unusual creatures. Loretta came alive. Every drop of water in it became animate, and so did every leaf on the branches. As she walked past someone’s front gardens, Rhianon could hear the leaves rustling anxiously. It was as if someone was calling to her from the crowns of the trees. Sometimes she recognized the dryads, but she did not want to communicate with them today. Phyllis had long been angry with her and hid in an orange tree near the castle. Rhianon hadn’t spoken to her in a long time, and the dryad was angry. She wanted to flirt and play cards with her mistress, not remain a neglected servant. She often said that the rustling of playing cards reminded her of the foliage and her home far away in the forest. More than once she had suggested that Rhianon go back into the thicket with her, to the tree that Phyllis said grew to the heavens.
Rhianon did not doubt her words now, but she did not want to leave Loretta just yet. She walked through the streets and enjoyed the feeling that everything here now belonged to her. The streets, deserted at night, were beautiful and spacious.
The figure sitting alone by the fountain would have seemed asleep to Rhianon had it not been for the scarlet trickle that trickled into the water. The girl was not asleep. Rhianon stepped closer to take a closer look. She had already expected to see Setius leaning over the corpse. He was the one who could nestle into the maiden’s delicate neck and bleed her.
Rhianon touched her shoulder. Her hand felt as if it had touched a helpless rag doll. The
