Todos os capítulos de Ilyria and the Lightning Bird: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

“Wait,” said Suluu, stopping. Ilyria groaned inwardly. He had changed his mind. She was already thinking she should ask him to at least leave her with some provisions. Though terror crept up on her at the thought of a long day of walking to nowhere. “Yes?” she said, trying to keep her voice from betraying her fear. “Which way do you want to head?” asked Suluu. He looked at Ilyria with genuine confusion as she burst out laughing. Mostly at herself but then also at his expression. She was relieved that he had stopped only to ask what direction they should be heading toward but she felt stupid for missing the obvious. They had simply set off without knowing where. She turned in a circle. She was going to say toward the horizon but then she realized how ridiculous that sounded because it was all horizon. “Everything that sets in the East, will rise each day anew in the West,” she recited softly. Her education since her father had died had consisted of things she consider

Time passed and the light never changed in the room. Ilyria and Suluu slept, they woke, they made love, they slept again. In her dreams, she joined her mother at the dining table in the mansion of her childhood. Daria Agrio was young and beautiful. Her hair shimmered with jewels and her robe was woven of a silk so delicate her nipples appeared rosily through the thin fabric. At her side appeared a series of suitors. As each left, he kissed Daria’s pale cheek, picked up the small gold scissors on the table before her and snipped off a lock of hair bearing a jewel or a thread of silk from her robe. Her mother appeared not to notice. In the dream, Ilyria was seated at the far end of the table, unable to move or speak. She watched helplessly as Daria was stripped of her fine robe and all her jewels, her beautiful hair shorn, and still the suitors appeared. One of the suitors finally noticed Ilyria and walked toward her, his smile stretching across his mouth, wider and wider until it see

The box, hovered above the dazed siren, giving off a low hum. And within the safety of that hum, Ilyria could no longer hear the siren’s voices. It seemed neither could the Mogul. He scratched his head and looked at her, then looked away. Mortified, Ilyria realized she was naked again. She stretched out her hand. “Please may I have some clothes?” The Mogul quickly shed his tunic but kept his pants. His bare chest was thin and sparsely covered with grey hairs, his face thin to the point of emaciation. His skin hung loosely and was tinged with yellow. Ilyria realized with alarm that he looked old and sick. Looking at him now, she realized that he must be the same age her father would have been. Subjected to months of this ordeal, he had suffered. Could he still save Idixat? Was this the man who would restore true justice to her home? Meanwhile the hum had disoriented the sirens who, though they had formed a circle around Mogul and Ilyria, seemed unable

The shield around them wavered as conflicting emotions ran through Ilyria. Astrapi felt like home to her and that made no sense. She was angry with him because she could not trust him and that did make sense. But then she was also confused because she was the only who seemed to think there was anything trustworthy or even worthwhile in him. The shield faded and blinked but stayed in place. Madame Skia, with her sister’s body still in her arms looked up at Ilyria. “No, Ilyria,” she said, “I beg of you. Do not trust him. Listen to me. He is Zlo’s twin.” Astrapi stood before the shield but seemed not to be able to see beyond it. As it wavered, he leaned closer, as though he knew something was there. He reached out and touched it, then grimaced in pain and quickly withdrew his hand. Ilyria concentrated and the shield glowed once more, steady. But she was growing tired and without the queen to help, she and Madame Skia would not be able to hold it for long.

  Ilyria looked at Astrapi. “The rest of the world seems ambitious,” she said, “Can we start with Idixat.” Astrapi shrugged as if it were all the same to him. “Come,” said Bonbon, assuming Madame Skia’s role, “Let us sit while we can.” Sidian lit the tapers around the room and a soft glow suffused the dining hall making it seem warm and welcoming. Except for the thuds and shouts and blows that still emanated from the streets of the city and that set the boarded windows to shuddering. Bonbon looked out the hall and reported back that the canopy had burned out. There were benefits to the stone structure of the House. They settled at their habitual places in the dining hall, too weary for more panic. By silent agreement, the head of the table was left for the Mogul. Astrapi declined a seat—his wings made him an uncomfortable partner at the table—and stayed near the door. “It started around a fortnight ago,” said Thas