Natalie Yacobson - Rhianon-2. Princess of Fire and the Winged Warrior

«I don’t think so,» Orpheus began to curl his fingers, clearly recalling the other terms, and Rhianon involuntarily noticed that there were more than five fingers on his hand. «One, you must sign with your own blood before you can begin training, two, no payment will be accepted – no payment in gold, because you must make your own gold,» he gestured briskly, and the doubloon glinted in his palm. «You see,» he showed the full coin triumphantly, «the third rule is, if you can’t do it, you have no business here.»

«Is it creating gold out of nothing?» She frowned.

«And what do you want, my dear, it is sorcery?» He tossed the coin, and it disappeared into thin air, just vanished into thin air. Rhianon would rather have thought he’d managed to hide it in his sleeve, but she didn’t see anything like that. The glittering gold really did seem to just emerge from the gloom and drown in it.

«You make your own gold, that’s the immutable rule of this place, which is why students would flock here in droves if it were open to all, but the trick is that only the chosen can come here. Everyone would like to be able to do something like this, but only the lucky few or the unfortunate can do it, they somehow consider themselves to be the latter, though if I were them…»

«You’re not,» she interrupted him, «and yet you can do it, too.»

«But not quite like them,» he corrected her reasonably. «Even you could do more if you wanted to.»

«I will someday, you bet I will,» she thought of her desperate longing to regain her lost kingdom, and the pain stirred in her soul again. She wanted power, and if only she had power, she would have no doubt in which direction to direct it and how to destroy her enemies. «Are you saying that those who come here are unhappy, despite their great gift?»

She arched her eyebrows skeptically.

«Well, personally I think it’s just bliss, but unlike me they have living hearts, they beat and hurt, they have human feelings, and they are not at odds with the burden of black talent that has fallen on them. You, for example, are not at all happy that fire lives inside you.»

She gave a silent gasp, though she should have realized long ago that he had guessed it. He could see inside her.

«And all because you’re used to living among people and thinking you’re a simple human,» he said, «you know you’re surrounded by simple vulnerable people, you’re used to feeling like them, you’re vulnerable like a fragile girl, and inside you lives such power. Too powerful even for a magical being, it burns through your graceful body. Never mind the broken feelings.»

«I wasn’t asking you about myself,» she reminded him.

«Oh, of course, there are the rules,» he continued to curl his fingers, more and more of them on his hand, as if new ones could grow at his will. «Create your own gold, and then you can create everything else, too,» he proclaimed, «No unelected tutors. No food but sorcery. No gratitude, nobody needs it here. No „thank you,“ no „goodbye,“ you just never leave here, because your soul will stay here, no matter where you go. The term of your training will expire, but the term of dependence on the magical forces you control will never, and believe me, one day you will stumble so that your own magic will destroy you itself. That’s when every student of the School of Witchcraft realizes that there was no one to thank and nothing to thank. He wove his own net and got tangled in it himself. And the victims that any disciple of this place can drag down, I don’t count anymore; there are always countless of them. You destroy yourself when you sign the contract with your blood, but you have no choice. The fragile human body, by a whim of fate, which holds a non-human talent, leaves the newcomer no choice. All the chosen ones come here, and here the same thing always awaits them. I think it’s very tragic to be born human and have non-human qualities. You’re like a moth tied to a candle in advance, you don’t even have to fly at it and you’ll burn anyway. And don’t look at me so accusingly, Rhianon, in your heart you know I’m right. With your unearthly gifts, you’re neither angel nor demon, though something in between, but you’re not human either, and thus you’re superfluous everywhere. That is why you think that your path lies with the School of Witchcraft. As a spirit I approve of you. It really is the only true path. It is better to perish after gaining a moment of your power here than to be an outcast for both humans and supernatural beings for a lifetime. For centuries I’ve watched humans discovering their magical powers as if from heaven, and I can assure you that a shelter here is the perfect way out for them. But you are different. You came here of your own free will, not because it’s time to improve your gift. So just remember one last rule. No gratitude. When a newcomer memorizes this condition as the last one, there is usually another one – someone’s shadow accompanying you. It will stay with you forever.»

Rhianon looked over her shoulder and saw no one. Orpheus had spoken his monologue with such self-confidence. She even flinched, though no one was following her.

«Is something wrong?» He was already smiling mockingly.

«Are you scaring me on purpose?» She snapped back angrily.

«No, I’m just testing how brave you are.»

«You are idiot! I should have you thrown out like a careless servant. Though you may be a spirit, you’re no better than a lazy peasant who’s been admitted to the castle kitchen and doesn’t know what he’s doing.»

«Hey, I merely said the general rules,» he said defensively. «You asked me to. Remember?»

«Yeah, but I didn’t ask you to comment on all those rules, just to name them.»

«If you were really meant to be here, you’d know them by now, they’d be written in fiery letters on the walls, like tablets or right in your brain, but believe me, you wouldn’t be left uninformed.»

«So why did they let me in at all?»

«It’s a mystery to me, too,» he stepped away from her and looked around as if he were looking for something. It was unclear whether he was joking, or whether he was really trying to find some clue. Nothing was ever quite clear with him, and his mood was always changing. One minute he was serious, and the next he was bursting into laughter and making obscene jokes. Rhianon was tired of him, but she could not drive him away. For one thing she did not know how to do it, and for another she was afraid to experiment, that she might drive him away for good, and then she would need him again. While she was not yet on the throne of her country, she could tolerate his presence around her. And then we’ll see if she needs such an advisor, who can find out everything about everyone, or if she will chase him away for being garrulous. At any rate, it will not be soon.

«Think about it, seven years,» he said, as if he could read her mind. «Do you really want to stay in that dark mansion for seven years? It’s a dark place. Besides, you won’t learn anything useful here. It’s so uncomfortable and dark.»

«But I can see light,» she nodded at the rainbow rays dancing in the gap between the door and the lintel.

«It’s just an illusion,» Orpheus tried with all his might to influence her decisions, but so far he had failed, and he was beginning to get angry. It seemed that if he found the tiny humans now, he would crush them with his own fingers.

«It’s all an illusion,» Rhianon corrected him. «You said yourself that magic is all there is. Magic is the only thing that can help me.»

«You’re exaggerating. There are many other ways to get back what you want,» he trailed after her, a gruesome look on his face. Rhianon shrugged, feeling the chill of his breath on her shoulders. He himself remained motley and bright, but it seemed to her that his sighs might freeze with ice.