Sunlight and Shadow (11 page)

The simplest way of saying it is this: Even in her pain and defiance, the Lady Mina was beautiful. So beautiful she outshone the moon and the stars alike. Had it been in the sky at the time, I have no doubt she would have outshone the very sun.

The fourth time I saw her, she wasn't the Lady Mina at all.

It was shortly before dawn when the Lord Sarastro summoned me to his study. I was ready, had been for hours. The truth is, I hadn't gone to bed at all. How could I sleep when I knew that everything I'd worked so long and hard for could, should, would be mine with the rising of this single sun?

“Ah, Statos, good. Come in,” the Lord Sarastro said when I had been ushered in. The servant who had summoned me bowed and departed, leaving me alone with my lord. My lord and master, I probably should say. For, as his apprentice, my master is precisely what the Lord Sarastro was.

I know several of the others have told you their life histories, or something of them. Have no fear that I will follow their example, for I have no intention of boring you to tears with the many details of my life until this moment. For one thing, my life isn't all that unusual or uncommon.

Like many a younger son of parents rich and poor
alike, I was sent to join the Lord Sarastro's household as a boy, in the hope that I might prove worthy enough to join his order. This I did, and in time achieved an unlooked-for honor. I became his chosen apprentice, the one above all others to whom he revealed his thoughts.

None of which may make much difference to you, of course. For I have not forgotten that your first glimpse of me was through the Lady Mina's eyes. Don't think I don't know what that makes me: the villain of this story. I will say this much, though, and suggest that you remember it as you read along.

My desires were, are, no different from the others'. All I wanted was precisely what they did: a place to call my own, a home, and a heart to share it with, to beat in time to mine. And if I did not always do quite what you would have done to accomplish these ends, let me ask you this: How far would you go to achieve your heart's desire? If it was almost within your grasp and about to be snatched away, how much farther would you go?

“You conducted yourself very well last night,” the Lord Sarastro said, and he gestured me to take a seat while he stayed beside the window. “You made me very proud. I am sure that, with the coming of the sun, my daughter will see reason.”

I bowed my head, acknowledging his compliment which pleased me greatly, and showing that I agreed with him when, in fact, I did not. I was far from
believing that the Lady Mina would change her opinion of what had happened to her simply because the sun was about to come up. That was nothing new, after all.

And I think that this was the moment I first began to feel afraid. For, if the Lord Sarastro did not see the situation clearly, truly, then the fact that I was the one he had chosen for his daughter would make no difference. All might still be lost. But I did not speak my fears aloud. If there's one thing an apprentice should never do, particularly one attached to a magician so powerful he is literally the living embodiment of the sun, it's to let his master know that he has doubts about his judgment.

“This morning, Mina will be presented to my subjects,” the Lord Sarastro continued, by which he mostly meant the members of his court, other magicians of our order, and the people of the nearest town. The lord looks after too many people for them all to be assembled in one place at once, even on so momentous an occasion as this.

“After she has been made known to them, I will present you as her future husband. Then, in the grove most sacred to our order, the ceremony will take place at once.

“Do you not think—,” I blurted out, before I could prevent it. I stopped and bit my tongue. Hadn't I just finished promising myself I wouldn't speak my fears?

“What?” the Lord Sarastro asked as he came to sit beside me. “Don't be afraid. Speak what is in your mind.”

“Might it not be better to wait?” I asked. “To present me as your daughter's intended husband?”

Give her more time, I wanted to cry. Time for her to get to know me. Time for me to win her heart. You have control over her body. You've certainly proved that much. But do you think that's all I want?

“If she makes a public denial, her pride may make it difficult for her to take it back,” I went on.

This was a thing I knew the Lord Sarastro understood: the power of pride. It had ruled his dealings with his own wife for many a long year.

At my words, the Lord Sarastro's eyebrows winged up, and I felt my stomach clench. Though I had not spoken all I might have wished, still, I had never contradicted him even this much before.

“That is well thought of,” he said after a moment's pause. “For she will certainly have pride, if she is anything like her mother.”

He rose and returned to his former position, gazing out the window. Had he stood at his window all night, I wondered, as I had at mine? Had he watched as the night tore itself apart in grief, and all in perfect silence? How had he felt to know he was the cause?

“I will not be governed by the pride of a sixteen-year-old girl,” the Lord Sarastro said at last. “Particularly not my own daughter. She is subject to
my will, as are all who dwell within my lands. The sooner she is made to acknowledge this, the better. Therefore, all shall proceed as I have already spoken.”

At this, I rose also and made a bow.

“It shall be as you wish, my lord.”

“Indeed,” the Lord Sarastro said. “Indeed it shall. Now go. Take those who are without and bring my daughter to the audience hall, Statos. The sun is about to rise.”

And so I made my way to the Lady Minas chamber, the Lord Sarastro's servants following the proper distance behind. Was I proud of myself as I walked along? As every step I took brought me closer to my desire, did I celebrate the fact that, in spite of what her own wishes might be, in a few moments more, the Lady Mina would be made to bow to her father's will, and therefore, to mine?

Surely, the answer must be yes if I am truly the villain you'd like to think I am.

And so it pains me to tell you the truth. Mostly, I concentrated on trying to control my heart, which was suddenly beating high and fast, prancing inside my chest like a racehorse. I tried to figure out if it were possible to wipe my palms upon my pocket handkerchief without the Lord Sarastro's servants noticing, for my hands were clammy and had begun to sweat.

I wondered if I might simply throw up.

I'm sorry if this destroys the image you have of me as a villain, but it is you who have cast me in that role. It is not one I took on for myself. And so, step by painful step, I made my way to the Lady Mina's door.

Upon reaching it, I stopped, pulled in a breath, then nodded for one of the lord's retainers to knock and announce me. The Lord Sarastro is strict on matters of protocol. I was here as his emissary, his representative, and should therefore be accorded the same respect that he would be due.

There was a moment's silence following the servant's brisk knock. Then, “Enter,” called a high, clear voice. The servant opened the door and threw it back. I advanced into the room, making a sign that the retainers should close the door behind me, then wait in the corridor.

I had no idea what to expect from the Lady Mina this morning. Was it possible, as her father maintained, that she would come to accept her new situation in just a single night? She was standing with her back to the room, gazing out the great bank of windows, swathed in her great, dark cloak. Even the hood was pulled up over her head. Of Gayna, I could see no sign.

At the click of the door closing fast, the Lady Mina made a small movement, and I could see a flash of gold fabric beneath the cloak's hem.

That is a good sign, I thought. She would not defy
her father completely, for she had dressed to attend the audience.

“Sarastro, Mage of the Day, sends you greetings, Lady Mina,” I said. “He welcomes you to your first dawn, and requests that you accompany me to the audience scheduled in your honor.”

“My first dawn as his subject, you mean,” the Lady Mina said, her voice subdued, muffled by the hood of her cloak. Still, she did not turn around.

“He seeks only to honor you,” I said, wishing I didn't feel, and sound, quite so stupid. Wishing I could throw protocol aside and say what I truly wanted.

“And to honor you, as well,” the Lady Mina said. “For does he not intend that I shall be your bride? Come now, tell me the truth, Statos.”

“That is the lord's desire,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “And mine, above all else.”

“Truly?” the Lady Mina asked. Again she moved. And again I caught a sudden flash of gold. “More than anything else in the world, you wish to be my husband?”

“I do, Lady,” I said.

At this, at long last, the Lady Mina turned around, pushing her cloak back from her face as she did so. At her gesture, I felt the very blood inside my veins congeal.

“And now, Statos?”

“Gayna,” I said, my voice no more than a whisper. “For the love of heaven, what have you done?”

What Sometimes Happens to the Best-Laid Plans

“What I had to do,” I answered, my tone impassioned. “What any subject who truly holds the Lord Sarastro in her heart would have done.”

“You helped her get away.”

“Yes,” I said simply. What was the sense in denying what I had done?

I watched as Statos moved to the chair in front of the now cold fireplace, his movements slow yet jerky, and sat down upon one arm. I have seen men, competitors in the tournaments the Lord Sarastro sometimes hosts, move like this sometimes, when they have taken a blow which does no lasting injury but confuses all the body, the mind most of all.

Then he looked up, his blue eyes dazed, and spoke a single word:

“Why?”

“To show the Lord Sarastro the truth about his daughters heart,” I said. “To prove that she will never bend her will to his, for she does not love him. She does not love you. She is the lord's daughter by
blood, but this does not make her worthy of either of you. Forget her, Statos.”

To my astonishment, he laughed, and the sound was so bitter it made my throat close up.

“Forget her,” he echoed. “Why do you not simply suggest I forget my whole life? Merciful sun in the sky!” he exclaimed as he shot to his feet and began to pace around the room. “How shall I tell the Lord Sarastro of this? You have no idea of the trouble this brings down upon us.”

“Then perhaps you'd better tell me,” I said. “It would be nice if someone explained something.”

He swung around to face me, pivoting swiftly on one heel. His eyes moved over my face for what seemed a lifetime. Long enough for me to feel myself color, then grow pale beneath his scrutiny. For me to feel first hope, then fear take hold of my heart.

“You really don't know, do you?” he finally said quietly. There was in his voice a thing that I had never heard there before, though this is not the same as saying I did not recognize it for what it was.

No, oh no, I thought.

For the thing in his voice sounded remarkably like pity. And, much more than hate, it is pity which is the opposite, the doom, of love. For to love or hate truly, you need to be equals, or at least close in strength. But pity is a thing which flows from the strong to the weak. From the haves to the have-nots.

“Know what?” I asked, though the truth was, I
was far from certain that I wanted to know.

“There is a reason the Lord Sarastro did not take his daughter into his household before now. A prophecy was made in the hour of her birth.”

“A prophecy,” I said. “I suppose I should have known. Wait a minute. Don't tell me.” I raised a hand as I saw him take a breath to go on. “It doesn't just concern the Lord Sarastro's daughter. It also concerns her husband.”

“That is so,” Statos replied. He began to move about the room again, though not with the agitation he had showed before. This was the way he moved when he was thinking something through, trying to come up with an explanation for a difficult problem. A thing he did without being aware he was doing it, and one of the things I loved most about him.