18 - Syrsee
This is how I got here.
Iopen the box up and find… I have no idea. Something old and, from the look of the patina, made of copper.
It’s a disc with an elaborate design that might’ve been pulled straight out of the dreamwalk I took with Lucia after Paul beheaded her.
The exact moment when Coyrah, the Ice Maiden, tamed the aquis equi and turned into the night mare.
The Horse and Rider. Which, now that I think about it, feels like a very important symbol for the Guild and not so much any kind of representation of me.
It’s off-putting. Why does the Guild identify with this horse and rider symbol? I mean, they’ve put it up everywhere. And I get it, it’s a logo for the Guild Lounge, or whatever. But why this symbol if it’s all aboutme?
This is when I notice that there is an aged yellow envelope attached to the underside of the lid. The flap has been sealed with purple wax that is turning black along the edges and embossed with the same horse and rider symbol.
It appears to my untrained eye that this envelope has never been opened. There is clearly something inside the envelope because it’s bulging a bit.
I pause here. Am I supposed to unseal this thing? What if it’s a trap? What if there’s a curse inside? What if there’s some kind of poisonous powder that pops out at me?
I roll my eyes and sigh, then grip the edge of the paper and rip the seal open. The wax lifts up, taking a layer of the paper with it. I pull out a small book that has a stitched binding. When I open it up, I find seven small watercolor paintings, again depicting the scene that Lucia showed me in that dreamwalk. Coyrah, the Ice Maiden, taming the aquis equi.
But the last picture is different. It’s an illustration of a woman—who may or may not be me—holding the disc up. Looking into it and seeing her reflection. There is writing, which I don’t understand, along with a few symbols, also indecipherable, but I think it’s showing me a mirror.
I look back down at the disc. The design of the horse and rider is in copper relief. But when I pick it up, I find a shiny surface on the other side and my own face staring back at me.
Itisa mirror. A very old, very intricate mirror.
And even though I can’t read that writing I know it’s a magical item. One made for me.
I smile and hold it to my chest. Something mine. All mine.
“What’s that?”
I look over, surprised, and find Ryet—in all his vampire glory—bracing himself against the doorjamb to the bedroom. He’s pale, and weak, and breathing heavy. Like it’s a labor to even be alive.
“You’re awake!” I put the mirror down and rush over to him, placing a hand on his cheek. He’s cool now. Maybe too cool. “How are you feeling?”
Ryet attempts a smile, doesn’t quite manage it, and hoarsely croaks out his words. “Better, I think. But not great. How long was I out?”
“A day or so? I kinda lost track of time, so I don’t really know.”
“How areyoufeeling? My last memory is of taking care of you. I ate some…” His gaze goes over to the complement of jars on the kitchen counter. “Some of those. And fed you my blood. Did it work?”
“I think so? I’m not sure. I don’t feel all the way better. My stomach is really upset. But I don’t have a craving for blood and I’m not unconscious, so… jars for the win?”
He manages a bigger smile and nods his head over at the box. “What’s that?”
“Tristin just dropped it off.” I take Ryet’s hand and lead him over to the table. “Come on, sit down. Let’s look at it because I don’t really know what it is.”
He sits, his wings drooping to the floor like he hasn’t got the energy to hold them up. He lets out a long sigh, then reluctantly slides his eyes up to meet mine. “I look like a monster.”
I shrug one shoulder and take the seat across from him.
“Don’t I repulse you, Syrsee?”
I sigh as well. “It’s… just… who you are, Ryet. And I’ve already seen the hot version, so that’s how you are in my mind.” I pause, think about what I just said, then add, “Wow. That was really shallow and inconsiderate of me.”
He attempts a chuckle. “At least it’s the truth.”
