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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Ilyria and the Lightning Bird: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

77 Kabanata

Chapter One: The Shadow across the Moon

Ilyria leaned back against the cool stone wall as she looked through the open window of her chambers up at the night sky. The moon shimmered silver-gold in the warm air, so fragrant with the scent of magnolias and jasmine her mother had ordered delivered by the thousand. The moon didn’t care about the bustle that had begun in the early hours of that morning in her mother’s mansion and had only now quietened down. The moon was oblivious to the water fountains pumped with cool water, to the conjured lights that floated like fireflies above the gardens, to the rows and rows of banquet tables, heavy with rare Deluvian silver. Tomorrow she would be married. The moon would not care about that either. She had not imagined this should be her fate. She had only that year completed her studies and she dreamed still of joining her mother’s traders in journeying across the desert, buying dripping moonfruit from Isfap or intricately wrought jewels from Itoulp or visiting the miraculous w

Chapter Two: Effect

Inside, trembling and holding back her tears, she hesitated. She had to tell her mother what had happened. Her mother would surely be horrified. She would not have known this about her business partner and once she did, she would be certain to expel him. Or report him to the Mogul. This is what Ilyria told herself. But another voice from farther inside her was saying she was in danger from everyone within the walls of this mansion. Even her mother. And this was why she hesitated. No, she thought, it cannot be so. This is my childhood home. There were happy times here. Weren’t there? She knocked at her mother’s door. Though it was late, light from her mother’s chambers edged from beneath the door. She knew her mother used the night hours for her planning, preferring to rest during the day when she claimed only fools were afoot. There was no answer, so Ilyria knocked again, a little louder this time, “Mother,” she whispered, “Mother, please. I must talk

Chapter Three: Wine and Bread

Ilyria moved quickly down the alleyway, trying to sidestep the worst of the dirt, trying not to think about what type of muck might have passed through it. Her feet, soft from years of walking on marble floors or gently manicured lawns, were soon bleeding from the sharp cobblestones of the street. She felt foolish when one alleyway led into another and then another until she realized that these alleyways were the streets of the city of Idixat. How had she paid so little attention riding through the city on her horse or in a carriage? She also felt stupid carrying the bag of wine and bread. The bread was at least a day old and probably too hard for her to even hazard a bite without breaking a tooth. As for the bottle of wine … she shook her head. She brought wine but no shoes. If she was Haris’ widow’s only hope for justice, then the widow would not have much comfort. Haris’ widow! She tried to recall the name of the pretty, inane woman Haris had married. In t

Chapter Four: Who is Eleft?

Ilyria looked up at the fragrant shape and saw a set of double chins that shook with laughter. She stepped back, dusting down her trousers, trying to get her bearings. When no one emerged from the street behind her, she allowed herself a sigh of relief. The large woman with the chins finally managed to stop laughing. She smiled at Ilyria and the thick makeup caked around her eyes and mouth cracked and flaked. She wiped her watering eyes. “Sweet Oren’s gods, child,” she said, “You fight with the wiles of a desert cat.” Ilyria was silent, uncertain how to answer this strange woman. The woman went on, “But you are no child are you,” her eyes dropped to Ilyria’s chest, and she raised one painted eyebrow, “nor no boy.” Embarrassed, Ilyria pulled the shirt closed. The buttons must have come off during the fight with the robbers. And her pockets were empty. Ilyria realized that she had run out of ideas. “I need help,” she said to the woman. “

Chapter Five: A Glamour

That evening, Ilyria, led by Miasma, joined the girls—“companions” Miasma insisted they were called—in the large salon off the courtyard. Filigreed lamps warmed the room with light while breezes flowing through air channels in the walls, kept it cool. The girls had shown Ilyria how to wash down their bodies and apply scented oils so that now the room was filled with the heady scents of all the desert’s hidden flowers. Softly cushioned divans sprawled around low tables sagging with sweet fruits and spicy savoury pastries. Ilyria felt her mouth watering at the sight even though she was still sated by the generous midday meal. Mirrors lay along the walls, their gaze softened with hazy draped silks. Ilyria could not resist glancing at herself. Her long dark hair hung loose to her waist and the translucent tunic she wore fluttered around her slender limbs. She had allowed the girls to help her with a touch of kohl around her eyes and the effect was, well, she had to admit

Chapter Six: Masks

Ilyria woke the next morning to the sound of the birds fluttering across the courtyard. Her eyes flew open. That sound last night! Just before the room went dark, a shadow had passed across the moon, just as it had a few nights before, the last night she spent in her mother’s mansion. This time though, there had also been the sound an enormous pair of wings would make as they swept through the air; a rippling, fluttering sound as if the air itself were being parted. Then there had come that long, strange silence when everything slowed down, and she had felt herself—or some part of herself—weave the gossamer strands of the glamour that mesmerized the merchant. Was it the Lightning Bird? What did it mean? She tried to recall other times when she had willed a situation to bend a little, for a person to … She sat up. A time when she had willed a person to not see her. Of course! in the courtyard in her mansion after overhearing Haris’ certain murder, she had been

Chapter Seven: Cloud Silk and a Kitten

Miasma could not stop talking. Ilyria laughed to see her so animated and lively when she had only known her as sweet, sleepy, charo-loving Miasma. Now she was buzzing with talk of the trinkets and gadgets she planned to buy. She held onto Ilyria’s arm as they walked, her other arm looped through Flame’s, a girl with coppery hair and skin pale as goat’s milk. She wore a gold and silver striped mask, like a tiger. Ilyria thought their names were a little obvious, but she could see how they were easy for the clients to remember. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the three other market goers and behind them, Bonbon and their guardian. Ilyria caught her breath. It was just a moment, but something about it caught Ilyria’s attention and with her attention came that slowing in which she could conjure the glamour. Now though, she had no need of a glamour, only a closer understanding. And it came more quickly perhaps because once you saw it, it was obvious.

Chapter Eight: Astrapi and the Magos

Ilyria felt as though she had been waiting for this moment all her life. Her eyes locked onto his and she stepped forward. The Lightning Bird folded her toward him, his arms strong and steady. She felt the heat of his body and his fragrant breath on her face, “Don’t be afraid, Ilyria,” he whispered to her as her body become light and they left the ground. Her eyes never left his. She heard the powerful whoosh of his wings as they rose high up into the night air until they were enshrouded in the chill damp of the clouds. Only then did she look down below her to where Idixat was only a place of scattered lights in the vast indigo velvet of the desert. She felt unafraid, even when he wrapped his legs around hers and changed their position, holding her close to him in a lover’s embrace as he flew them both away. Ilyria believed she must have fallen asleep in the arms of the Lightning Bird as they crossed the night sky, as improbable as that seemed. Yet she woke in the warmth of

Chapter Nine: A Voiceless Song

Dirk looked directly at Ilyria. She reached again for the sensation of flickering shadows as she had done all those nights ago, desperately searching for the glamour that would conceal her but feeling it slip away from her like sand. He saw her, there was no doubt. His eyes widened and his lips parted to call out to his henchmen, but something seemed not quite right. Slow. It was all too slow. Her own movements felt trapped in thick honey, each breath came and went as measured and inexorable as the tides of the desert. Her panic, her terror of moments before felt as far as the moons. She tore her eyes away from Dirk and saw that Madame Skia had pushed herself up on one elbow. She had raised up her face to the sky and her usual thick mask of make-up wavered like a thin veil over her face. Through the veil, Ilyria saw a face of such heartrending beauty she thought it would forever be seared into her memory. Madame Skia’s mouth was open as she sang without voice.

Chapter Ten: Not Justice

Thassa and Ilyria followed Madame Skia to her office. This time Ilyria looked carefully for even one clue to Madame Skia’s identity. Madame Skia, like Thassa, had a story and Ilyria was more than curious. Her life may depend on her understanding. Thassa was the last to enter, he closed the door behind him. Light and air streamed through the upper vents in the room and there was a feeling of pervasive calm that was not charo-induced. Ilyria took a breath. “You said I might be able to help? What do you mean? Help with what?” Madame Skia sat at her desk, her hands fluttering. Her fingers were pale and soft. Yet Ilyria was certain she had large, calloused hands with long red nails. Ilyria had the dizzying impression of seeing two things at once. Perhaps the clue to who Madame Skia was, was not in her office, but in the odd feeling that Ilyria had that whatever she thought she was looking at, it was not the real Madame Skia. “First

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