Chapter 8
Adayof shouting potential spells had made no difference in the gates. A thorough hunt of the palace and its grounds had not revealed the book, so Annelise retired to the chamber her husband favored in poortemper.
He was notthere.
Her venison stew was there, though she had little appetite for it. There was only one portion and she feared that meant he had no intention of returning that night. Did the meal mean that he was not quite so vexed at her? Was it a promising sign? Or did he have a standing order with the palace to see herfed?
Or was he gone, and the palace would see to her basic needsforever?
She waited, but he did notappear.
She ate, but he did notappear.
She paced, partly to keep warm, but he did notappear.
She retired, extinguishing all the lights, but still he did notappear.
Annelise could not sleep without her husband’s heat by her side and feared the import of his absence. He could not have abandoned her completely, couldhe?
How would she apologize if she never saw himagain?
And still there was the most vexing question of all: who was Rosalinde? Why did he utter her name in his sleep? The possibilities plaguedAnnelise.
Without much else to do, she struggled to recall every childhood tale she had ever heard. Perhaps the secret to the spell of the gates was there, hidden in her ownmemories.
Every puzzle had a key, she reminded herself. She had only to findit.
The palace grew steadily colder during the night and by morning, winter had settled in with a vengeance. As Annelise had originally thought, the broad arching windows were ridiculous. The wind ripped through them with delight and stirring the drifts of snow that had appeared in the corridors. She had to break the ice on the surface of her bathing water in the morning and was reluctant to abandon her cloak at all. She donned every item of clothing she possessed, her hands shaking with cold, then left the bed chamber. She hoped there was something hot to break herfast.
There was a bowl of porridge, a thin line of steam still rising fromit.
But beside the bowl was the missingbook.
Annelise hastened to the table and opened the book. The script was still legible, thanks to her husband’s touch. She sank down onto the cushion, ate her porridge, and began to read a tale forchildren.
Surely the book was here for areason.
Surely there would be a glimmer of truth withinit.
Her husband had been cursed by djinn, afterall.
* * *
There were,there were not, in the oldness of time, twin daughters born to a djinn and his wife. Herein lies the tale of Leila and Kira, twins born to Azima and Azzam. They were matched in looks but not inmanner.
This was in the days when man and djinn walked the earth together—one wrought of potter’s clay, the other of smokeless fire—in echo of the master’s creation. Equal but different, they shared trials and successes, in those times before the djinns were dispatched to the realm beyond the world of men. Good and evil stalked the ranks of both man and djinn in those times, as always it did, and as this tale soon willshow.
For Leila, being a child of the night, grew to womanhood with an intuitive understanding of the dark arts, while Kira, a child of the day to her essence, was filled with innocence andjoy.
Though both children were fair in their way, the sight of Kira made others feel as though they looked into the warm beauty of the sun itself. People and djinns both smiled when she passed them, even when she was an infant. Unbeknownst to her family, Leila’s dark heart grew to nurture a dreadful jealousy of hersister.
The sisters grew, becoming more themselves with each passing day. Kira was good and kind, thinking of others before herself, willing to give the last of what she had to another in need. It was said that diamonds and pearls fell from her mouth when she spoke, and all she gave was returned to hertenfold.
Leila, though gifted, did not have such abundant charms. As she grew older, her jealousy deepened into a dark force that claimed all her attention. She turned to sorcerers’ arts to compete with her sister, but though she could oft mimic her sister’s gifts, whatsoever is wrought of shadows does not stand the test of time. The flowers she created withered and died more quickly than real ones, while Kira’s blossomed with rare vigor and thrived even in adverseconditions.
It was noted by all that Kira was a rare and special daughter and the parents showered affection on their golden child. All this served only to feed Leila’s hatred, though none might have guessed unless they looked into her eyes. Accidents began to befall Kira, and as their severity increased, those outside the family wondered about Leila. Kira would not listen to any questions though and would hear nothing said against hertwin.
In time the sisters were of a marriageable age, and a young mortal man came calling. He was handsome beyond all, gifted, yet moderate of speech, which pleased the father of the two sisters. He fell in love with Kira as suddenly as Leila fell in love with him. His mortality was not an issue, for the nuptial kiss of a djinn welcomes a mortal partner into the ranks of the immortals. What mattered more was his nature, which wasgood.
