«I am like him, and you decided to replace him with me, because I am not strong enough to rebel against anyone,» she asked questions into the void, but she was not afraid of getting silence in return. She had already figured it all out on her own. «Do you think I would be more obedient than him?»
There was only a breeze that blew against her shoulders, but it felt like a touch. Rhianon closed her eyelids, feeling the pleasure of a previously unfamiliar closeness. It felt like a void caressing her, and in that void she could see the outlines of wings, beautiful faces, the movements of lips. She would have enjoyed it forever if the serene harmony had not been replaced by the familiar images of heavenly war, fire, and scorched bodies. These fragments had not left her mind for a long time. And they fundamentally changed everything. She really wasn’t the only one who dreamed of cutting off Madael’s head and keeping it as a precious trophy. Such dreams and desires had arisen in the minds of celestial creatures long before humans were born. He was a temptation to all, the one she loved. So now why did she suddenly want to leave him?
It was as if it wasn’t even her idea. Rhianon was confused. She shook her head tiredly. The black creature that had been cowering in Madael’s tower and then pestering her in the tent seemed to begin whispering poisonous incitements to her again. Kill yourself to free him. Rhianon did not want to hear any more of this.
She clutched the pendant in her hands and wished she were somewhere as far away from here as possible. Most of all she wished she was back in Vinor, and finding herself suddenly in a dark alleyway she realized she was in one of the cities of that kingdom.
Moonlight poured down on the sidewalk. The dirty reflections of the torches fixed in brackets over the gables of the houses could not spoil its purity. Rhianon was suddenly frightened that with this glow, those who had spoken to her had been transported to Vinor. She turned around cautiously, but now there was really nothing but emptiness behind her shoulders. The streets of the city diverged in several directions. Rhianon stepped forward a little. It was dark and deserted. Rhianon liked to feel that she was alone wandering in the night, and the night felt as if it belonged to her.
It felt like she was the only one here. She could do anything she wanted, even fly over the city. Maybe she should summon fairies and dance with them in the streets. Rhianon felt like kicking off her shoes and dancing on the sidewalk. She took the pins out of her hair, spread her arms, and twirled on the spot. The moonlight shone out around her. For the first time in her life, she didn’t want to spew or quench the fire inside her. She wanted only to enjoy the calmness of the night.
The pleasant feeling of being here alone was interrupted by the quick flutter of wings. Rhianon immediately stopped. The first association was painful. Madael might have already flown in for her and was now watching from above, but somehow she did not feel his presence near her. On the contrary, the city seemed to her free of both his servants and his minions. No magic but a slight otherworldly vibe. Only a few witch doctors could roam here, but not Lucifer’s armies.
A low cawing sound from above confirmed that she was wrong. Rhianon looked up to see crows perched on the perimeter of the roof. The darkening stranglehold of tiny figures on the beautifully sloping eaves was ominous. Rhianon only now noticed how beautiful the house she was standing in front of was. It was two stories high, decorated with tiles and slender columns, and the curved friezes and pediments gave the impression of something fabulous. Rhianon stared. She wished she could live alone in a house like this, away from everything. The walls made her feel cozy. It must be beautiful inside, too. And why have a castle full of gossiping servants, when she could live in such a quiet secluded place. Here she wouldn’t be affected by wars, or the strife of men and angels, or the crushing power of Madael’s secrets. It would be so nice here. Rhianon approached the porch. The frame of the canopy concealed a door with an exquisite hammer made in the shape of a lion’s head. She barely touched it when she realized she was not alone. She turned around quickly. Standing nearby was a gentleman, very tall and sturdily built, dressed in black. Wavy strands of black hair fell from beneath his broad-brimmed hat and though it had not rained for a long time it looked as if water were dripping from it.
«Would you like to buy this house?» The echoing voice sounded as if it had never been heard. Rhianon scrutinized the face hidden by the shadow of the hat and could not make out a single feature. It was as if she were speaking to a void.
The offer was tempting, but somehow too hasty. It made her a little wary. «How much would it cost?»
«How much would you give?»
The question puzzled her. Rianon wondered how little jewelry she wore at the moment. She could pull off strings of pearls and a sapphire-trimmed sash, and one of her feathers would probably be worth a whole small estate. But what could she offer for a house? Suddenly she remembered the coins Dominic had given her. She didn’t carry much with her, just a handful. She pulled out three of them and held them out to the stranger.
«What could you buy with them in Vinor?»
He studied the exquisite coinage for a long time. The gold gleamed oddly against the black leather gloves lined with mink. Rhianon noticed how disproportionately large his hands were. It frightened her a little. He could easily squeeze her throat with his hands.
«Dwarf’s gold…» he whispered softly.
«It is right,» she didn’t know how he could have guessed, but she was struck by his expertise. Maybe he was a wandering magician himself, or maybe he was just a connoisseur of magical rarities. Manfred was such a connoisseur, too, and even as Hildegard found out, those who cannot conjure themselves appreciate the fruits of other mages’ efforts. And there are also those who do not mind collecting wondrous objects. If the Inquisition gets its hands on such collectors, they’ll be in trouble, unless they’re rich and noble. This stranger, judging by his clothes, might have been both rich and noble. The mountain fur on his cloak and velvet of the best quality from which the camisole was made spoke of the exquisite taste and solvency of the customer. Only the black color was so gloomy.
«Have you any more of these coins?» he inquired cautiously, not letting go of the first three ducats.
«I’ll give you two more to buy the house.» Rhianon was not accustomed to bargaining, which was unbecoming to royalty, but now she wanted to bring the price down to a minimum. She had a dozen coins left, but held out only two to the stranger. He greedily grabbed them.
«Enjoy your new accommodations,» his bow was courteous, but the brim of his hat didn’t even line up with the level of her head. He was too tall. Rhianon watched him walk away. The flaps of his short cloak flapped in the wind like the wings of a raven.
«The keys are under the door,» he said as he hurried away.
He sounded like one of the birds on the roof. Rhianon grinned. His voice was not husky, but sounded like the cawing of a raven.
«Why did you decide to sell the house?» She shouted after him, not expecting to wait for an answer.
«I didn’t decide,» he turned and looked at her carefully, as if in a hurry to read something curious in her unfolding mind. «It was the house that had decided it was time to change ownership.»
Rhianon heard no further words from him. Ravens,