Читать книгу Gryphon dynasty - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 5

Fiona was awakened by the sound of quiet conversation. The talkers were unaware that she was already awake and watching from beneath half-closed lashes.

Ornella and one of her brothers came into the cell. They seemed like two evil ghosts in the glare of the orange glow cast by the fire fairies actively crawling on the walls and ceiling.

Fiona was used to the regular hiss of fire overhead, but the sound of Ornella’s arrogant voice was disgusting. Who would have thought the sight of that silk-clad lady would make her sick.

«Father’s gone!» Ornella said. «I cannot, as the present Queen, go out and tell the people that the Sultanit does not have the strength to reach down and behead a supernatural murderer. Such a gesture would be seen as helplessness. I will be overthrown! Better to find the culprit, who is already known to the people as a witch. You know you can’t get a sea fortune-teller.»

«But she’s not a witch!»

«How would you know, Orvel! You’ve never been able to read minds. That’s my talent. I agree that each of my brothers has their own special gift, but I’m still the most gifted. That is why I will rule! Remember your place!»

«This you say to the eldest heir of the Sultanit?» Orvel was indignant.

«You gave me your place on the throne.»

«I had no choice,» he scowled.

«Yes, you did. And you have none now. I am the queen!»

«The death of my father at the hands of the water king seems to have been good for you. And everyone knows that the Sea King was your admirer. Maybe they’ll think you’re a witch.»

«Not unreasonably, as you know! But everyone also knows that I rejected the Sea King because of his not standard appearance and lack of gifts worthy of a Sultanit’s princess. Apparently he’s already spent it all on the withered Occylvanian princess Lilothea, who he dragged off to the bottom, so there’s no money left for new courtship.»

«What’s your point?» Orvel’s worried.

«That killing our father might be an act of revenge on the part of a spurned suitor. It’s not a pretty story! I suppose someone might accuse me of provoking the wrath of the sea on the Sultanit by my intransigence. We’d better execute one witch and close the case. The people will be glad, and so will I.»

«And all your brothers won’t! She’s perfect for us to close the circle.»

«And I’m not good enough for you?»

«She has a special purpose,» Orvel said. «I just don’t know what it is yet.»

«You must be mistaken!» Ornella barked back at him.

«Then we’re all wrong!»

«That’s why I rule, not you. All my brothers, unlike me, were not smart enough to be in charge of the country. And here I am, the first woman to pull the Sultan’s power. And you still contradict me!»

The firemen hissed angrily, sending up a shower of sparks.

«They report the watermen are watching us. A whole regiment of morgens under the windows,» Orwell translated the fire fairy’s tongue. «Soon they’ll bring the worst of the storm.»

«And it is good! Executing a witch at a time like this will distract everyone. I’ve already ordered a bonfire to be built in the square.»

«Execute such a pretty girl!» Orvel was indignant. «Give her to me!»

«Didn’t you claw the last minion with your claws during love games?»

«I’ve been more careful.»

«I won’t let you do that to this one. I could catch and send some old gypsy fortune-teller instead of her to tonight’s bonfire. But that redheaded girl’s no good for your clawed amusement anyway. You can’t have her!»

Ornella cares about her? There’s something fishy going on here. Fiona had trouble waking up to what was going on and who was running the country since the King’s death. But the word «bonfire» gave her a fright. She shuddered violently.

«She’s waking up!» Orvel determined. «I’ll take her upstairs to my ex-fiancée’s quarters.»

«You swore you wouldn’t take any more harlots.»

«This one’s innocent. I can smell it.»

«She’s a witch,» Orvnella said stubbornly.

«No, she isn’t. There’s something magical about her, but not witchy.»

«But she’ll burn at the stake as a witch!»

«Why don’t you leave her to us?» Orvel was begging. «The room of the Crown Prince’s dead bride is still empty, and apparently it will be empty forever.»

«You don’t want to marry a commoner, do you?»

«Well, no, of course not,» Orwell hesitated. «But she might amuse us.»

Fiona was frightened. For some reason she invariably associated amusement with scratches and claws and savage pain. Oh, why had she gone in the mountains? If she hadn’t gone there, she wouldn’t have ended up in a dungeon.

Ornella leaned over her and ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

«She is a redhead and she has no freckles!» For some reason Ornella was alarmed by this fact.

Yes, Fiona had no freckles. So what is of it? Redheads usually had them, but someone got away with it. You should be happy, not sad! Freckles and pimples were all skin blemishes. Fiona was glad she didn’t have to cover her freckles with homemade flour whitewash, not enough for the market. Ornella, on the other hand, was even angry.

«Remember the prophecies about the redheaded beast who…» She clutched at her brother’s sleeve.

«Ch-ch-ch!» he glanced at Fiona, who couldn’t stand it and opened her eyes.

«After a fire, memories turn to ashes too, so let her listen!» Ornella waved her ringed hand and straightened up stately.

«But it wouldn’t hurt to put the plugs in!» Orvel remarked.

Fiona felt a blockage in her ears, but not for long. She couldn’t hear anything at first. All she could see was Ornella’s pursed lips opening aggressively, and her brother shaking his head negatively. Then fragments of phrase began to be heard again.

«What do you mean, you can’t? You could! You have to learn better!»

«It is Sephora. She is a bad teacher and she is too flaming.»

«She’s the best, that’s why she’s fiery.»

Isn’t that the firebrand they’re talking about? That one hissed in a web of fire, hovering over Ornella’s head. A moment and her redheaded fingers reached for the crown on Ornella’s head, causing the metal to glow. Ornella shuddered, and quickly stepped back into the shadows. Smoke billowed from her strands.

«You are thieves!» She hissed at the fire fairies. «I’ll have you burned at the stake for disrespecting the Queen!»

The fairies merely laughed evilly.

«Then I’ll drown you! Give you to the Morgens as tribute!»

The flaming fairies kept silence, and scurried away. It was dark without them. Only Ornella’s jewels exuded a little golden glow, and the torches of the guards gingerly glowed behind the bars in the distance.

«I will invite Sephora again,» Ornella promised to Orvel.

«But don’t invite her dragons again!» He exclaimed.

«They are like her train. They are always around.»

«You don’t own us!»

«Yes, I do!»

She showed her claws. Birds’ claws on woman’s hands! Fiona shuddered.

«Yes, I see, I see!» Her brother brushed her off.

Fiona seemed to have lost her only protector. Orvel gave up. The newfound Queen of Sultanit bent over Fiona again and tugged her hair painfully.

«She is a redhead! All redheads are sorceresses. They must be tortured and burned.»

Fiona did not have time to object, and no one would have listened to her. Ornella had already summoned the guards.

The guards here were empty-headed in the literal sense. It was as if they had been turned into sleepwalkers. They moved like machines.

«Go to the bonfire!» Ornella ordered. «And go quickly!»

«It’s not fair!» Fiona screamed. «I am not a witch! You are the witch!»

Ornella’s face grew icy as she stepped toward the troubled condemned woman. Only her anthracite eyes flashed furiously with anger. Now she’s going to attack!

«My dear!» Ornella lifted her lips to her ear as if to kiss her cheek. «Never confuse witch and werewolf!»

And a bird’s claws slid across her shoulder, marking her like a brand.

Fiona cried out in pain, not outrage. She was dragged up the stairs and down the luxurious corridor of the castle, which appeared to lead through an intricate network of galleries and balconies, all the way to the front door.

On the way she ran into Condor. He was handsome as the dawn and as angry as the devil himself.

«What does it mean!» He shouted in fury.

The guards and Ornella all fell to their knees. They were frightened of him, weren’t they? Are they afraid of him? Fiona held her breath. Maybe he could help her out. He didn’t like her at first sight. But she saw him, and her heart leapt at him like a bird in a cage.

How handsome he was! And how inaccessible! Ornella’s other brothers like her, and she is attracted to someone who doesn’t care about her.

«It is just the execution of the witch who has worn out the king with her black magic!» Ornella commented.

«Is it just one witch?» Condor looked at Ornella as if he expected her to be dragged to the bonfire. «Really, the greatest evil is letting a witch get so bad that she sits on the throne and runs the whole country.»

«Shut up!» Ornella shushed him. «Remember the arrangements!»

Condor weighed his chances of winning the debate and nodded silently. Fiona was dragged along.

The fire fairies were already flying over the square and spitting fire, forming a large bonfire. The executioner stood idle. And in such a witch land they still burn witches! Magic is everywhere.

What on earth possessed her to go up into the mountains and encounter an entire witch royal community? Curiosity is a nasty trait! It was curiosity that had led her to the bonfire, and to unrequited love. She tried to twist herself in the hands of the guards so that she could get another look at Condor. She wished that the last thing she would see before she died was him, not the evil fire fairies.

«Send for Rokuela, or go yourself!» Condor whispered, addressing someone who was hovering outside the gallery windows.

Fiona did not have time to get a closer look. She was tied to a thick pole and literally thrown onto already burning piles of straw. Flames were about to rise to her ankles. The firefighters laughed merrily, a red-headed circle circling the square. For them, the execution was a feast. The flight of fiery bodies was like a dance or a monotone firework display. Sparks flew off in all directions. Someone in the crowd scolded angrily when a shower of sparks hit his family. Everyone came to see the witch’s execution, though it was late, and a storm was brewing on the sea beyond the square. Ornella herself watched from her high balcony. She had no shortage of regal grandeur. The people respected her and took off their hats in front of her. Women curtsied, hoping she would notice them. She really was the local leader.

With a wave of her hand, the firewomen obediently rushed to fan the flames, crawled over piles of straw, and dived for the pole to which the witch was tied.

Fiona felt her feet burn. She was on fire. Tongues of flame licked at her shoes. The flames were biting. The Condor watched indifferently from the tower. At least he would be the very last thing she would ever see. His face is as beautiful as a mural of an angel. Even more beautiful! And he himself is even more soulless than the cold celestial creatures. It is as if he were not looking at an execution, but at an empty square. He could at least put on a look of sorrow as a courtesy.

Ornella wasn’t hiding her feelings. She was ready to applaud the fire fairies. They were so successful in burning one witch that they could ignite the whole square. If such a selfish woman ruled Sultanit, the country would turn to hell. It already was hell. Fiona cringed at the pain in her shoulder. Only a werewolf could have left such deep wounds that were now scarlet on her skin. Ornella had bird claws, after all! What if she really was a werewolf? Then it was a good thing her scratches were contagious. She wished she could turn into a bird and fly away from the fire now!

The flames licked at her feet. Suddenly it rained. Slanting streams began to put out the fire. The firebirds hissed in displeasure, but could not resist the downpour. They had to fly back to the castle. The wind from the sea carried the murmur of the waves. Thunder and lightning heralded inclement weather, and a woman dressed in white flashed through the crowd. She looked like a sea ghost. Gray curls framed her young face. Heavy strands were held together by combs of large seashells. Her cheekbones and forehead themselves also resembled the shape of seashells. Her eyes sparkled like two magical sapphires.

It was she who was causing the rain, Fiona determined. Unknown how, but definitely her!

The rope burst. Just in time! The hangman and the guards had just had to clear the square, which had been flooded by waves from the sea. There had never been such a flood. Though Fiona was free, she could not swim.

However, the white woman beckoned her. In the empty square she looked even more like a ghost.

«Follow her!» Voices whispered out of the rain.

Fiona gasped. In the streams came the outlines of figures. They were the ghosts of the rain, so much is said. If she saw them, there would be disaster. Only Fiona was already in trouble. She had nothing to lose.

Ornella disappeared from the balcony. Probably didn’t want to get her hair wet. The firebrands hissed discontentedly at the spirits of rain, peering out of the castle windows-boys. Here they found worthy opponents. The rain spirits were no less mischievous. They danced around the walls and spat frozen water at the fire fairies. Some of the rain ghosts clung to Fiona.

«Redhead, like fire,» they howled. «Fire must be put out.»

They threw water on her.

«Let her go!» The white woman commanded as they tried to drown Fiona in the puddles.

The spirits obeyed.

«Come on!» The stranger held out her hand. She herself did not walk, but treaded on the water that flooded the square.

It was frightening to walk with her. She is surely a sorceress! But how else could she be saved? What if they send a chase after her from the king’s castle? She must run! But where could she run? There was only one way. She could throw herself into the waves. But the waves were rolling with something that looked like a shell or a fancy rook. Fiona was pulled into it by a stranger. As it turned out, the shell was able to move.

«It was alive!» shrieked Fiona.

«Don’t worry!» The stranger reassured her. «Anything is better than a fire.»

She might have been right about that, but Fiona didn’t want to drown either, nor did she want to fall into the clutches of the sea king. But it didn’t take long to worry. The shell swam for a while, and then crawled out of the waves and raced down the rain-soaked path. It glided even faster through the puddles than it did through the waves.

Fiona didn’t even dare ask the stranger where they were going.