Other Lives(7)

“It was my grandfather’s grimoire“, he told her. “He was a warlock. But you must keep that little tidbit to yourself.”

“Do you know any magic?” she asked as a jest.

“A little. Not enough to stop me from being charmed by the likes of you, fair nymph” he responded.

“You never take anything seriously.”

“I am serious. Would you like to know a dark secret of mine?”

“What?’ she asked.

He rolled his sleeve up, showing her a series of tiny dark symbol upon his skin in a row, the dark shapes alien to her.

“It’s a talisman. These words are magic,” he said. “They ward off evil.”

The writing was like nothing she had seen before and, unthinking, Miranda reached towards his arm, meaning to touch the odd letters before she realized exactly what she was attempting and stepping back.

“Forgive me,” she said, blushing.

“I think I’d be a fool if I were offended by that gesture.”

He chuckled and then she chuckled, and he showed her another book. A beautiful illustrated tome with beasts from exotic lands. He pointed out a unicorn and told her he could find one for her.



5



In the dream it was him, not her mother, falling from the tower while everything burned. The tapestries and the armoire went up in flames and Miranda woke up, a whimper escaping her lips.

The mirror across the room reflected her pale figure. Only it did not look like her, the shape alien and deformed and then…

She blinked. There was nothing in its clear reflection except a scared young woman.

***

“What was she like, his wife?”

“She was sweet,” muttered Nikolaos. “She was beautiful.”

“He loved her very much, didn’t he? I could see the deep loss in his eyes … I like him and I cannot remain here. I was dishonest Nikolaos. I did not tell you everything.”

She was standing by the window while the snow fell outside, a hand lightly splayed against the glass. Under the dim light of his chamber, with the snow framing her, she seemed ghostly.

“There was a boy I knew, Giustan. He was one of the few people who were not afraid of me. All the other boys would hurl rocks at my window shutters during the night. But he wouldn’t. He was sweet. My uncle said he was also unworthy of attention because he didn’t have much money.

“Still, he’d come around with excuses to see me or we’d meet by chance on my way to the market. I liked him very much. One night…he was attacked by someone, some thief my uncle said. It was a vicious thing. They burnt the body, it was so badly mangled.

“He was fifteen when he died.”

Nikolaos moved closer to her. From that angle, her eyes seemed almost burning yellow, like a candle flame.

“You think it was your fault. It is a coincidence.”

“Is it?” she asked, tossing the question back at him.

He picked his words carefully. “You should be thinking of other things. Happy things. You should be smiling and forgetting about old stories.”

“Every time I look in the mirror I feel like it’s there. Like I’m being watched,” she whispered and glanced at her reflection. He glanced too and there was nothing strange in the glass…and yet.

An unintentional shiver ran down his spine and for a moment Nikolaos was revolted by the sight of her. Then she turned towards him, wiping stray tears from her eyes and there was only a sad woman there, no storybook monster.

“It’s a tale,” he said. “Just some old tale.”

“An old tale,” she whispered. “What if it isn’t? I don’t want Darius to be hurt.”

“Fallen in love, have we?” he muttered.

Miranda shrugged as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

“At first I thought you’d fetched me off for some repulsive pig, but he’s not. He’s actually charming. I fear that he’d be harmed. Or you.”

“Yes, yes, we know this evil demon will kill us all.”

“Yes, and I must leave,” she said. “I must leave before you are hurt. It knows what I’m thinking, I can feel it. It’s in my dreams. Every night, when I go to bed. It knows.”

“Knows what?”

“Everything. Every single secret I keep. And it is inching closer. Oh, it’s closer and closer. It slips behind me at nights and whispers in my ear,” she said, her face distant and strange.

He did not want to, would not have her speaking like that. It was too dreadful, her vacant expression. Like a porcelain doll with glass eyes. So he embraced her instead, pressing her tight against him just to get those terrible doll eyes to leave him.

She cried freely and it didn’t help the situation at all. He was bad with weeping women and found himself mumbling silly words of comfort, smoothing her hair as she held on to him.

The sobs diminished and when those eyes did look up at him again she seemed better, a trembling smile fluttering on her face.

“Thank you,” she said in a whisper.

Nikolaos grunted a muffled sound that did not amount to a real word, feeling absolutely awkward and misplaced. Thank you for what? He was no friend of hers and if she could see into his heart she would do well to recoil.

But it was evident she was oblivious to his true nature the moment he felt a hesitant kiss.