My heart stopped. A shadow huddled on the balcony between the shelves up there, a tail that stiffened like a whip ready to strike. The ears, lost among dark red hair in the dim light, shot upward before flattening again against the skull.
The figure tried to disappear between the shelves.
She'd seen us. She'd heard us.
"Lirka? What are you doing up there?"
No answer. Just my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
"Is it the fox? Is she up there?"
Isabella leaned forward. Her cheek brushed mine, a sudden and unexpected warmth, still damp from tears, that caught my breath. She was trying to follow the trajectory of my gaze, pressing her skin against mine in an attempt to see what I was seeing.
"Grrr..."
"Lirka, I can hear you and I can see you. Come down."
"Lirka not here," Lirka's voice hissed from above, scratchier than usual.
Isabella turned toward me. Our eyes met, caught in a closeness that was far too intimate. I felt blood pump straight to my cheeks, a fire that blazed instantly across my face and on hers. That intimacy felt strange, it had a different weight, something dense and... adult. Something I didn't know.
"Grrr!"
"Oh." Isabella jumped back, her feet stumbling on the wooden boards. She frantically smoothed her skirt, avoiding looking at me while the air between us turned cold again.
"Does... does she always do that?"
"Come down, let me introduce you properly," I called, addressing the darkness between the beams.
"No. Blue girl stinks."
Isabella flinched like she'd been slapped. She went rigid, her shoulders shooting upward as if someone had pulled an invisible thread, her fingers grasping at air while her body leaned forward, tense, ready to strike.
She opened her mouth. A strangled breath. The muscles in her neck tensed, locked. She swallowed the blow. Straightened her back, slowly, until her face became smooth, empty, impenetrable.
The blue gem at her neck swayed, catching a ray of light that slid across the faceted surface. For a moment, the reflection wasn't merely a random gleam: the shadows in the diamond closed to form a profile. A long, white, noble muzzle, and that slender horn splitting the stone.
A unicorn's head.
Isabella laced her fingers in front of her skirt, her hands still, her gaze fixed on an empty point beyond my shoulders.
A scarlet shimmer began dancing on the walls, swallowing the shadows. Then the sound arrived: the steady beat of metal that didn't clank, but pressed with purpose on the boards.
Sergeant Roderick emerged from the darkness itself. His right hand was clenched on the sword's hilt, where the blood-colored stone pulsed. Each beat poured waves of red light into the gloom. The heat reached me even at a distance, dry and feverish, like breathing over a forge. The light stained the armor and the old books with burning reflections.
Roderick's gaze slid over me, heavy as his armor. It wasn't a simple glance, he studied me coldly, a calculation that weighed my posture, my fear, even the position of my hands.
Under that silent judgment, I felt naked, tiny. Every fiber of my body screamed to back away, not to meet the pupils of this man who seemed capable of spotting every lie and every tremor of mine.
It was like standing before a predator deciding, in that exact instant, whether I was worth killing or simply ignoring.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, a chill in sharp contrast to the heat emanating from his gem. When he slid his gaze to the girl at my side, I exhaled the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"Lady Isabella, is everything all right here?"
Roderick's gaze scanned the shadows between the shelves, methodical, tactical. A thief who'd escaped the patrol would die before breathing twice.
"Yes, Roderick," she replied. Her voice had turned flat, glassy. "It's just the fox playing in the shadow."
The knight stopped in front of us. The gem's light illuminated the unicorn head on the breastplate of his armor, the same symbol as Isabella's necklace, rendering it radiant. "Very well. Are you ready to return to the residence?"
"I suppose it is quite late." Isabella gave me one last icy look. "Arek, we have a pact, then."
Without adding anything else, she turned and followed the man toward the exit. Their footsteps faded in the corridor until only the library's silence remained.
That went well, I suppose. Did I do the right thing?
"Grrr." The low growl came again from up the balcony.
"Lirka," I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. I wanted to scold her, explain that this game could be dangerous, that Isabella wasn't an enemy anymore. But the library's silence returned only my breath. Lirka was Lirka and she wouldn't understand the difference between an insult and a wild truth.
"It is what it is. Let's go eat dinner," I said, giving up on any lecture. "Come down."
***
I returned to the room I shared with Sipar and the girls when the sky had already yielded to the deep violet of night. The lanterns in the corridors cast long shadows that seemed to claw at the stone walls. I pushed the door open with the caution of a thief, but the silence I'd hoped for wasn't there.
Lirka was perched on my bed—yes, mine specifically. Her arms were locked across her chest, the white tip of her tail wagging at me like a raised finger. Her ears were flattened back and her yellow eyes stared at me through narrow, cruel slits. Words weren't needed, the message was clear: Traitor.
On the other side of the room, Emma loomed over Sipar. Her hands sliced through the air in a stream of dramatic mimicry, quick and sharp. Her face had lost its usual calm entirely.. Sipar, sitting on the edge of the bed, seemed to have already exhausted every defense.
"It's not like you're saying, Emma," he murmured, his voice low and defeated. "It has nothing to do with her."
Emma slapped her palm on her thigh with a sharp, violent sound. Then she mimed a small figure, gave it an exaggerated kiss, and threw it away with contempt.
"Come on. She's cute but that's not why I'm telling you."
The girl stiffened, legs and arms rigid.
Sipar breathed in deeply. "Yes, it's true. I never talked to you about it, but I've wanted to ask Father Tyeron to initiate me in the faith for a long time. Theology is... interesting. Today was a good day like any other…" His eyes darted frantically around the room and found mine.
Sorry brother, I have my own problem. I thought, dodging his gaze and closing the door behind me.
Emma slapped her palm to her forehead.
The click of the lock drew both their gazes. I'd tried to close it quietly, to avoid being heard, but the sound had slipped between one noise and another.
"Um... hi everybody," I ventured, trying to defuse the chill.
No response. Lirka kept staring at me. Her tail flicked nervously on my blanket.
"Lirka? Are you… all right?" I took a step toward her, opening my arms wide.
She deliberately avoided my gaze, staring at the wall with so much intent I thought she would pierce it. Her ears flattened even more, like they wanted to burrow into her skull.
"I know, I get it," I sighed, letting myself drop onto the mattress beside her. "You're mad at me."
Lirka emitted a nasal grumble, a grunt of total disapproval.
"Emma wants to know if... um, if Isabella left," Sipar offered, carefully avoiding the term Emma had gestured, a term banned under Cora's iron rule.
"Yes, she and Roderick are gone. Sister Cora reminded them to be careful of the Glow-Cats roaming the neighborhood, but I think they're the ones who should be afraid of Isabella," I replied, trying to lighten the mood.
My stomach grumbled though, reminding me of the smell of burnt grease still lingering in the kitchen. Chicken. I remembered Sister Cora's flushed face as she stared at the pan earlier: "A leg is missing! Who took it while it was still half raw?"
I laughed to myself thinking about how everyone had pointed fingers at Lirka, even Father Tyeron.
The fox eyes kept staring at me. She was wrinkling her nose and sniffing the air with a tremor of her nostrils like I had an unpleasant smell on me.
A sharp sound, almost a bark from her half-open mouth sent me retreating on the mattress.
"You smell of blue."
With a leap she jumped off my bed. The mattress bounced. She landed on hers with a soft thud, curling up like a Glow-Cat under the sheets and disappearing from view, except for a tuft of red and white fur moving rhythmically.
I tried to smell myself before realizing that it wasn't really possible to smell of blue, or any other color for that matter.
Emma turned to Sipar, gesturing quickly. He translated reluctantly: "She says all men are a predictable disappointment. Specifically you and me."
"Emma! And what do you have against Sipar? What does theology have to do with it?" I protested.
Sipar went rigid. Emma pointed at him again with her finger, relentless.
"No, for the umpteenth time!" he declared, raising his hands. "I didn't decide to study with Tyeron just because she does too. It's something I've been thinking about for a long time."
Sure, Sipar. As believable as a fox guarding a henhouse. Lirka came to mind instantly.
Emma studied him for a long moment, her face expressionless as a marble slab. Then she gestured slowly, placing a finger under one eye and pulling down the skin hard. The message, clear and violent, didn't need Sipar to be understood: I'm watching you! She turned and headed toward her bed, her steps heavy on the floor.
Sipar let himself fall backward, emitting a muffled groan. Silence descended on the room, heavy as a wet blanket. I glanced at the two motionless cocoons of Lirka and Emma, then at Sipar with his arm over his eyes. My eyelids felt heavy. Every muscle protested. "This day has been endless," I murmured.
"Yeah, you can say that again."
I closed my eyes. The darkness behind my eyelids was welcoming, finally.
The rhythmic rustle of Lirka's tail under the covers continued. A constant sound, almost hypnotic.
I should've gone to her, reassured her.
My limbs wouldn't respond anymore, and the thought slipped away before I could grab it.
The last thing I noticed, just before sleep took me, was Lirka's tail going suddenly, inexplicably still. Even her breathing had gone silent.
~ * ~