«What can you do, the blood of the fallen archangel, his fire, his vengeance…» The golden-haired spirit took his place in the niche, but he seemed to sit on the throne, his posture defiant and majestic, and he himself seemed to become clearer. «It is the fire of the fall, the beauty of the dawn, the sizzling effect of the sun, and with it is your grace, my dear princess. It is all in him. And with so many qualities he manages to drive everyone mad, mortals and immortals alike, and even the incorporeal. It seems he will also be unlovable. Can you imagine what it’s like to cause obsessive passion in others and never fall in love himself? I swear he’ll end up getting the whole world cut off because of him, and we’ll have no one to take revenge on. He will unknowingly do everything for us. It is by the power of his charm alone.»
«Why does he need fire at all,» the green spirit wondered. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his back against the wall so that he could almost disappear into it. «If he’s beautiful as gold, he doesn’t need power. I’d rather give him moderation, so he’ll never know ruinous emotions. Let him burn people himself, and remain cold.»
«Fire is necessary,» the orange spirit protested immediately, still hovering above the hall and resembling a disk of the sun itself. «He is a creature of fire. And fire has great power. He would never need anyone’s help. He can burn anyone and anything he doesn’t like.»
«And he’ll have blue eyes, just like you,» the bluish spirit said, turning to Rhianon. «To think, two fiery creatures merged to produce a creature with blue eyes and lilac skin.»
«He is gentle as a girl and strong as the elements,» the fifth spirit chimed in, flashing his eyes slyly. «Or is he the offspring of an angel? You don’t call your lover an incubus. You sleep in the arms of a fallen archangel, and you are as warm as in the bosom of a god. Will you love someone who is like your deity? He himself will be divine, but he will no longer be a warrior with a sword, but a refined cavalier… graceful, statuesque, well-mannered and yet powerful. He will break hearts at the same speed as your friend Hildegard breaks crystal glasses. How beautiful he will be…»
«And there will be a dragon inside him,» the golden spirit said triumphantly, and somehow his words seemed scary to her. She was not afraid of dragons, they were all part of the great army that had fallen from heaven, and they all served her lover. Only this time it was not just a dragon, but something incommensurably more terrifying.
«They are terror, power, fire, majesty, a throne.» The golden spirit’s golden eyebrows arched. «All this is inseparable. They are all the best qualities of the world in one golden being. We are all ready to become his protectors. You will receive us, as in the mortal world you receive your godparents. We can all unite to protect him. We would be honored. Wouldn’t you agree?»
«Do I agree? If I had any idea what you’re talking about?» Rhianon looked around, trying to catch the facial expressions of each spirit. «Who are you talking about?»
«It is the child,» the golden spirit said indifferently, as if she should know all that by now.
«Is is a child?» She remembered Eve for some reason, his blond hair, his unearthly beauty, and his frail, broken body, which had become incredibly strong after the torture. He was sitting on the arrow of the devil’s watch, looking up at her from below. His bloodied lips opened for a moment only to utter the single word «mother». He wanted to call her his mother, Rhianon only now realized, and shuddered, but the spirit hastened to dissuade her.
«It is about your child,» he said. «About what’s already inside you. Can’t you feel it?»
That’s where all those fiery explosions came from inside her. Rhianon put her hands to her lips.
«No,» she recoiled from the golden spirit so quickly that she nearly collided with the ones grating behind her, they passed through her like colored sparks, leaving a slight tingling sensation throughout her body.
«Yes,» the golden spirit jerked forward. «Or did you think you could only be carried by the swept ones?»
He was clearly mocking her. He knew it was impossible, he knew it himself. Rhianon broke into tears.
«It couldn’t be. It couldn’t, that’s all. Madael is not human.»
«And you are not,» the spirit nodded eagerly, shaking his weightless head like a lump of golden sand. «And the child inside you is not mortal. It is a catastrophe, the fruit of the union of two spirits, something that was not meant to be and that will become untold.»
«I don’t want that,» she backed away until she was against the wall, as if that were a way to escape her destiny.
«So what does it matter what you want? You should have thought about desire before you shared a bed with a fallen angel. You wanted him, just as others want a throne and piles of gold. So you get it all together. «You get wealth and power and the child of Dennitsa inside you. He burns you already, worse than any fire.»
Rhianon squinted at the golden spirit. She could feel it glowing intensely now.
«Can I get rid of it?»
«No, you can’t. Even if you kill yourself, he will go on living. He already is.»
How indifferent it all sounded. She felt trapped. There was no escaping it. It was inside her. Rhianon panicked. What if she really did die, producing such a creature? Is there a way to destroy it before it is born? She knew that there were tinctures and herbal potions to help induce a miscarriage. Any herbalist would be able to make them. Especially if she asked Madael for such a potion, he could get it for her. And what if he doesn’t want to destroy this child? What if that’s what he wanted? Did he fly over the worlds and seek out his mistress just to conceive? He wanted a son, a descendant, an heir, someone who would train with him to lead his dark army, grow by leaps and bounds and become an even more deadly creature than his father? He wanted to have such a toy, but he did not know how to acquire one. Mortal girls did not appeal to him, and so he found one that had fire inside her. She could be coveted, but not for long and for one specific purpose only.
If she died in childbirth, it would only benefit him. He would be alone with a creature who had no right to be born and who would probably be unusually strong. No one else will go after him and woo him. And if she even survives, he can send her to Loretta and keep the baby. Will she then be happy in her newfound kingdom, but with no hope of returning back to the magical world. Or would she, like any human exiled from the realm of fairies, be haunted by madness.
«This child is a mistake,» the spirit continued to whisper softly, hovering beside her. «It is a fatal mistake for all of us.»
«Is it a mistake for his father?»
«Well, you can protect him from his father.»
«How is it?» She lifted her weary eyes to the golden-haired spirit. She wanted to take what he needed from Madael. But how is it?»
«Give him a name.»
«What do you mean?»
The spirit nodded quickly at the walls.
«Put the letters together and it’s a name.»
She laughed tiredly.
«I’m serious,» said the spirit. «If you put all the letters together and call it that, we will all protect it. All together we are strength, separately we are not, but the five of us can handle anything. Unite us and we won’t let the father touch this baby. Our strength is a gift to the newborn. We will hide it from the one who conceived it.»
«And what favor do you expect from me?»
He nodded again at the wall. Rhianon reluctantly moved forward and again fumbled with the letters, one by one. They seemed to burn with fire. Five letters, one name. She didn’t even have to arrange them in any particular order; she just put them all together at random, from first to last.
«Edwin,» she said. She didn’t think it would be so easy to put unusual symbols together into one sound. Demon signs are a name for an unborn child, a name that in and of itself can be devastating. «Let it be Edwin. I like the sound of that.»
The spirits fell silent. They encircled her in a tight ring and at the same time seemed so intangible. Multicolored sparks fluttered before her like a rainbow, like a circle of autumn leaves. It was as if her five suitors had ceased to exist, and yet each rushed to touch her, to merge with her living body in a final embrace. They were all ethereal, but she could feel them.
«Where do you want to go this time, Princess?» The golden spirit whispered to her.
She knew it was the last question. They would never ask her again. They would simply be gone.
«I don’t know,» she said simply.
«There is one country that would have no difficulty, even without allies, in standing up to Loretta. Would you like to see its king?»
She only nodded. The pendant between her fingers warmed slightly, taking the shape of a crown. The next moment she was standing in a lavishly furnished room. It was night outside the windows. The curtains, woven with heralded insignia, fluttered gently. From behind the curtains of the closed doors voices echoed. Rhianon stepped silently on the tufted carpet. She was not alone here. Surprisingly the golden-haired spirit was beside her.
«Look,» he said, pointing to a table piled high with scrolls and charters.
Rhianon glanced at the velvet pad and the delightful crown, at the sharpened feathers and wax seals. The young man sitting at the table, parsing the papers, was surprisingly handsome and youthful. She suddenly felt the urge to go closer and flick the blond locks from his clean forehead. What a kind face he had, and what a pleasant one. She would never have imagined that such a handsome court dandy could be sympathetic and understanding. One glance at him was enough to know that he would be very pleasant to talk to. There was no evil in him at all, no dark vibe inherent in both demons and selfish mortals. Beautiful long lashes cast a shadow over his cheeks, ashy eyebrows frowned. He was tired, some edge of consciousness he was already in the realm of dreams but he had a lot more to do today. There was no sleeping, he kept telling himself. Rhianon caught his thoughts. She wonder who he is, a poor nobleman forced to serve as secretary, a member of the royal council, an archivist… he is so young, after all.
«You promised to show me the king, not this boy,» she reproached the spirit in a whisper. With the ruler she could negotiate, but not with the child. What could he do for her? The spirit had set her up with the wrong kind of meeting that could come to important negotiations. Here she would rather have a rendezvous.
«I would like to see the king,» she was sorry to leave the man who had grudgingly aroused such sympathy in her, but business comes first.
«It is the king,» the spirit leaned in beside her, the golden smoke almost penetrating her ear.
«Is this boy a king?» She stared in disbelief at the clean face and the long blond locks scattered across his collar.
«He’s not a boy anymore. Not looking at his innocent face, not even Manfred had to work as hard for his place upon the throne as this boy. But now his position is secure and his armies are extremely strong. You’ve got half the world in your hands by bargaining with him. I brought you to Vinor, one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world.»
