I shoot a glance at a small mirror on the table and wrinkle my nose in distaste as soon as I find the reflection of my eyes. I was never as beautiful as my sister but nor was I bad-looking or spooky.
Since the start of our journey, I’ve found out that not only do I feel pain, but I can also become tired. That’s why I have to spend my nights sleeping. I breathe too, though I’m still not entirely convinced that it is necessary, I do it by force of habit. My body is functioning from force of habit too, it is just doing what it is used to. My breath can quicken or slow down depending on my emotional and physical state. I don’t have to eat because I don’t feel hungry, but sometimes when I see or think about food, my mouth starts watering. Morok has told me that I can taste some dishes I crave if I want to refresh my memory about their taste, but my body does not really need food. The most unusual feeling, however, is the sense of stillness in my chest, where my heart should be beating. But to that Morok said that it would re-start when I am stronger, and then I will be almost indistinguishable from normal people, because it will start pumping blood through my veins and my skin will turn the right shade again.
I take some stibnite from my purse and line my eyes with it. I also cover my lips with a special paint. Those, too, are Daniel’s presents. I used to use stibnite when I was still alive, but instead of lip-paint we would use juice from different berries. Progress can’t be halted; people have come up with new ways to make themselves more beautiful. Well, the make-up is an improvement, but my outlandish eyes are now even more pronounced than before.
“I wonder what my Goddess would say if she knew that I too am a spirit now”, I say aloud, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“She won’t say anything. Your Goddess couldn’t care less, just like everyone else.”
The sound of his voice makes me start. I didn’t see him enter the room.
“What do you mean?”
He doesn’t answer, just shrugs his massive shoulders and gestures me out of the room. It is time for us to leave. I toss the rest of my things into a small bag and follow my guard.
“Yarat is only a day’s ride away now, my dear Agatha,” the prince reminds me, while Morok helps me onto a white steed.
The prince found one after all. And I catch myself thinking that my scarlet cloak does look nobler against the white of the horse’s back. I smile, patting the white of the horse’s neck. The steed is beautiful indeed, with its long mane and silky tale. It’s a pity its magnificent body will be stained as soon as we start on this muddy road. Though fortunately, it didn’t rain much yesterday.
“So, you can smile,” the prince says with a grin when Morok has stepped away.
My smile vanishes. But I continue stroking the horse’s mane and meet the prince’s gaze.
“I do not allow myself to smile for the fear you might fall in love with me, Your Highness.”
He only grins wider.
“And what if I already have?”
His question catches me off guard. Daniel runs his fingers through his golden locks with a look of satisfaction on his young face. He must be waiting for an answer but I keep silent, ashamed at my loss for words. My life has consisted of worshipping my Goddess and training and killing evil spirits. Maras can fall in love but what’s the point? If you have been chosen by Morana, you can never get married, your fate is to serve the Goddess. Most sisters, me included, preferred to banish these feelings knowing that there is no future there. So, my experience of flirting is almost non-existent, which is more than can be said about the prince. I have a hunch he will defeat me in these verbal duels more than once. The only thing Daniel fails to take into account while playing his little game of seduction with me is that I hate princes. But now I can think of nothing better than straightening myself in my saddle and ignoring the question completely.
“I will take it as a yes,” grins Daniel and mounts his horse.
“A yes to what?” is all I have time to say before he trots away.
I let out a scoff of frustration and brush my hair back to put on my hood.
4
Winter has always been our favorite season. Not only because my sister and I have been marked by Morana, the Goddess of Winter and Death, but also because it is the time of year when magic seems to envelop the whole world. I especially love a night after a snowy evening, with a full moon makes the snow shimmer and twinkle like stars. And the frost in the air bites your cheeks and tickles your nose.
I breathe out a small cloud of steam, wrap myself tighter into my fur-lined scarlet cloak and take a few apprehensive steps towards the woods. My legs in high, winter boots sink into the snow up to the middle of my shin.
I cringe when Anna overtakes me at a run and dives into the snow, breaking its perfectly smooth surface. She laughs merrily, throwing snow in the air with both her arms and legs, and then squeals when some of it falls behind the collar of her jacket. My lips break into a smile but I quickly recover myself. I sheepishly glance up to the temple and press my index finger to my lips, urging her to keep quiet.
It’s been a month since I turned fourteen and Anna became a Mara one winter ago. The second and coldest month of winter has come. Koliada, Maras’ favorite holiday, has already passed. The sisters have made the round of all the neighboring villages, receiving gifts and making sure no evil spirits made a home there. Anna is too young for these outings and I was left behind to keep an eye on her. We were both disappointed and sulky because we weren’t allowed to dance around the bonfires with the others or visit village dwellings to sing carols and get treats in return. But sisters Irina and Kira were unbending and we have no choice but to stay put.
However, the sisters come back when the carols and bonfire-dancing give way, with the last glimpse of twilight, to the traditional worshipping of Veles, the God of Earth and Water and Livestock, when villagers ask for good harvest and healthy cattle. This is no place for Maras, so the sisters head back to the temple for a bit of rest. The temple keepers are busy catering to the sisters and Anna and I have a little time when we aren’t supervised, so she talks me into having a walk beyond the temple.
“Come on, Agatha! There’s a lake over there and its banks should be covered with cranberries. If we gather enough, we can even ask someone in the kitchen to make your favorite cranberry juice!” Anna is struggling to get back on her feet, still half-buried in snow. She is trying to get the snow out of her hair, but some of the strands are already wet.
“We mustn’t go so far, silly.” I come up to her and put her hair up so that it doesn’t cool down her neck and put her hood up, afraid she could catch a chill. “It’s after dark already. If someone notices that we are gone, we’ll be in trouble. Do you feel like dusting all the library shelves again?”
I grin as she wrinkles her pretty nose, cleaning is not something she enjoys. Irina tries to straighten her out by punishing her mischief with chores, but so far to no avail.
“It’s not far! I just want to show you something.”
She looks up at me with anticipation, fidgeting with impatience and the same time, I take my eyes off the blueness of her gaze and turn to the temple again. It towers over us, its grey walls almost black against the white woods. Only a few windows are alive with the orange light of the candles. Everyone else is already asleep in their beds.
I look beyond the temple, at the dark sky, and try to come up with an excuse. I want to say it’s too dark to go, but the moon is bright and the snow reflects its light, painting everything silver.
“Okay,” I yield. “Let’s go. But make it quick.”
Anna