Read Glittering Shadows Online
Authors: Jaclyn Dolamore
She had always dreamed of giving speeches to the people. The words she had already said still haunted her, however. They weren’t her own.
You know that’s how it works.
She wished she knew how to talk to Wilhelmina, to share her hesitations with someone else, but since her own mother died, she had kept her deepest thoughts inside her head. Sharing them felt too
uncomfortable, as if no one would understand. She could have attended a thousand balls, worn the finest couture gowns, made endless small talk—all the things Papa urged so she would fit
in—but people would always sense the farce. She didn’t want to play the woman’s role on the political stage.
But Papa was trying his best to give her what she’d always wanted.
She couldn’t climb into a car without thinking of Ida’s death, and she shoved that back, trying to remember the powerful deaths that had happened in the opera, not the real ones.
Kriemhild wouldn’t brood, she would do something.
The drive to the Chancellery only took a few minutes, and Papa awaited her inside, pulling her into an embrace. “Have you been all right at the Wachters’?”
“Fine.”
He took her arm and started walking, leaning close. “It hasn’t been made public yet—we caught Gerik Valkenrath this morning.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Oh yes. He was trying to escape by boat. He swears he has no idea where Freddy is.” Papa’s grip on her briefly tightened. “You were right, I think—this all
happened because Gerik was reckless. He won’t own up to it—says he always had the situation under control—but his story has more holes than a wheel of cheese. He let Freddy talk
to rustic girls without supervision. I’ll bet the boy’s running around with the rebels as we speak.”
The hall of the Chancellery was so vast and hard and cold. The marble floors had a grayish sheen that matched the light struggling through clouds outside. The chill wrapped around her down to
the bone. “Freddy was getting too old for the way he was kept,” Marlis said.
Papa gave her a hard look. “Marlis—Freddy wasn’t going to grow up. You know that. That’s why he needed an heir.”
Marlis drew her arm away from his touch.
“I’m not telling you anything new,” Papa said.
She remembered one of her birthdays, asking Papa if Freddy could come to the party. No, Papa said. Freddy couldn’t go anywhere, he was sick. She wasn’t told the secret then, though
as she got older, she found out in bits and pieces:
Freddy isn’t really sick, he has powerful magic. That’s why he’s so tired sometimes. That’s why his hair is silver.
Freddy’s magic does so much for this city; he’s terribly important. Indispensable. You’re old enough to know the truth now. You can keep a secret
.
No one ever said outright that Freddy’s magic would kill him, but it was alluded to in so many little concerned comments. Of course it wasn’t new. Of course she’d known.
“Don’t look like that, Princess,” Papa’s voice cajoled gently. “Look how many young rustics just threw their lives away this week. Freddy would have died having
made a difference.”
She bit back the sick feeling inside her. She knew Papa didn’t
like
the idea of draining Freddy’s life away. Freddy wasn’t really different from the young men who were
drafted in the war. It only disturbed her because she was one of the few people with the privilege of watching him grow up under the weight of his magic.
Papa exchanged a muted greeting with a few other ministers they passed in the hall. “We need to find him,” he continued, turning the corner. “We can’t let power like his
fall into enemy hands. I wondered if we might lure him out.”
Volland walked out of one of the meeting rooms and lifted a hand in greeting. “I’ve just sent on the documents,” he said. “And you’ll meet with Taussen
tomorrow.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll look it over. I’m talking to Marlis about Freddy.”
“Ah.” Volland’s expression was neutral.
Being neutral is my job
, he told her when she teased him once about being expressionless. “Is she amenable?”
“He hasn’t told me the plan yet,” Marlis said.
“Beating around the bush, are we, sir?” Volland teased. “Your father and I were disagreeing this morning about how to approach the situation, Marlis. I think we’re on the
same page now. We feel you might have the best chance of saying something on the radio that would compel Freddy to return home, if he is at all able to do so.”
He paused as Lieutenant Acherbaum rounded the corner, walking purposefully like he was trying to catch up with them, even though they weren’t moving. Acherbaum stopped in front of Papa and
saluted, hand slashing the air.
“Acherbaum!” Papa said. “Let me extend my sincere apologies: I heard your unit sustained heavy losses against the revolutionaries.”
“Thank you, sir.” There was a curious insistence to Acherbaum’s tone that made Marlis nervous. He should have little reason to approach Papa like this when Papa was so busy; he
was a second-tier officer. “I suppose a few lives are a small price to pay for this country. Especially when you can bring them back again.”
“You misunderstand,” Papa said, as Volland placed a protective hand on his shoulder. “We never had that capability. Dark magic brought them back, we could only attempt to
control it.”
“Liar!” Acherbaum shouted. “You’re a liar! You could have used that magic to bring back
good
men.”
“This is not the time and place for this discussion,” Papa said, even as one of the guards moved toward Acherbaum.
“You betrayed us!” Acherbaum pulled out a gun. Three shots happened almost at once—Acherbaum firing once, twice, and then the guard. Papa fell back, caught by Volland,
clutching his stomach.
“You—” Acherbaum gurgled, and then he turned his gun on his own head.
Acherbaum’s blood splattered onto Marlis. She ripped off her coat and flung it to the floor.
“Papa! Papa!” She knelt beside him, trying to pull open his coat. Beneath the black wool, bright-red blood stained his shirt. Marlis had never seen a color as vibrant as the blood
all over Papa, all over the floor, all over her hands. “Hang on!”
“Marlis.” He grabbed her arm. “I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much.”
“Don’t—” He never told her that. She knew, and that unspoken knowing was all she needed. “I love you too,” she whispered, realizing this could be her only
chance.
“But—I need to tell you—You should know—you are—more than my daughter. There’s a letter hidden in my desk—at home—my office there—left
drawer.” He seemed to shiver, his eyes bulging slightly and unfocused, as if struggling with the Grim Reaper. “Your mother loved you, too. You
were
our daughter.
Please…”
He spasmed, and that was the last of him. More guards had gathered around, trying to keep panicked officials at bay. In those few moments where it was only Marlis and the dying light in
Papa’s eyes, the empty hall had filled up with gibbering voices and rushing footsteps. Someone shouted for the doctor, while someone else cried out, “He’s gone!”
Volland looked at her. He had heard every last word Papa said. She could hardly see him through the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t speak. She held on to Papa’s arm, blocking out all
the commotion around her, seeing only his face. The only person who loved her. The only person she loved. A doctor rushed in, but she knew it didn’t matter. Only one person could have any
hope of mattering, one little fox who had eluded the chase of the hounds.
She clutched Papa’s hand tight as they loaded him onto a stretcher.
“He’s alive, barely,” Volland announced. “Everyone get back, let them get through.” He took Marlis’s arm and pulled her off Papa. She was stunned into
silence.
He most certainly isn’t alive
.
Everyone else was moving around her, guards following the stretcher, ministers running to and fro, Acherbaum’s body pulled up, leaving a slick pool of blood on the floor. Despite all this
movement, Marlis felt as if time had stopped.
Volland stepped in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Come with me a moment. Please.”
She jerked back. “I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Come on,” he said, even more gently. “We need to talk. To find Freddy.”
She forced herself out of the haze of pain. “I’ll follow you,” she said quietly.
He didn’t lead her far, ducking into an unoccupied meeting room. “We can’t lose your father now when everything is already so unstable.”
“Is that why you said Papa was alive?”
“Of course. We have an understanding among the higher staff that we would use Freddy in any case like this. We would have brought back Vice Chancellor Walther, if he hadn’t died in
an explosion. But—of course, to do this, we must find Freddy.”
“We will
get
Freddy,” she said. “I’ll do whatever I must do. First I have to get home.” She knew Volland had heard every word of Papa’s strange
mutterings.
Volland didn’t ask questions. That was how he was; he knew she would tell him more the moment she felt like it, and he could be patient until then. “Of course,” Volland said.
“Go home and then tell me what you need. We’ll figure out a plan.”
“I’ll hurry,” she said.
The ride home seemed both ponderous and miserable. She had never wanted so much to sob, but the tears stayed locked in her throat. As the guards ushered her into the house, she overheard the
chauffeur comment, “Nothing warms that girl up,” as if she were heartless just because she wouldn’t show him her grief.
All the household staff and aides had heard that her father was in the hospital fighting for his life, and they wanted to fuss over her. She told them to go away, knowing how cold she must look
to them, with her face severe and her eyes dry.
She locked the door to Papa’s office and yanked drawers from the desk until she found a letter in a hidden compartment.
If you are reading this, something must have happened to me. I can’t imagine it will ever come to that, but I must plan for every contingency, and I love
you. I want you to be safe. I know you will doubt my love after you read this letter, but I hope you will be able to come back to it later, for confirmation of what you know to be true in your
heart.
The heart in question was already sinking into her stomach. She read quickly—the letter was quite long, as Papa was always verbose once he got going.
We’ve always said you look like your mother. And it’s true. I think sometimes she loved you more fiercely than her own blood because of it. Your mother would
never admit she believed in coincidences, much less miracles, but I know that was what you meant to her. To both of us.
You were adopted, Marlis. Your mother was unable to conceive. And we had reason to keep you close and safe.
In the forests of Irminau, there is a monastery dedicated to seeking out the children they call “the Nornir.” The monks and many rustics believe there are three women reborn
over and over, who protect the magic that comes from a sacred tree deep in the forest, and that this magic is a tool God uses to influence human fate. If a Norn is born into a family that
can’t properly care for her, the monks will offer the child a home.
Let me be blunt—I never believed in that nonsense. Magic is simply a force—a weapon, more often than not. But I can’t deny that magic seems to crop up more often in the
north, closer to the tree. My job is to protect my country. To destroy that weapon. So we destroyed the tree. Either we would destroy magic entirely, or we would destroy a powerful symbol of
Irminauer belief. And then we tried to capture the Norns. You were the only one we could find, a babe in the care of monks who swore you were sacred.
If the legends were true, magic would have died with the tree, but magic still plagues us.
If the Nornir still live and you are what the monks believed, you would have grown into my enemy and manifested magical abilities, but you, my dear Marlis, seemed to follow in our
footsteps. You share my political ambitions and your mother’s scientific curiosity and her way of looking at every angle before forming a conclusion. A guardian of fate? A tool of gods? I
scoff at the idea. You have grown into a modern young woman—without magic.
Could the lore of the Norns have been wrong all along? Perhaps so. You seem to believe in this world we have built. I hope you will keep fighting for it and not against it. I hope you
will forgive me for my dishonesty and understand the measures I took to find out the truth, and then to protect you from it, because my love for you is one thing that has always been
true.
The letter was dated several months before. She wondered if his words were still true. She had tried to persuade him to accept “barbaric” magic.
She paced the room fervently, crumpling the letter in one hand and twisting her mother’s necklace in the other.
“You left me…to find this after you were dead?” she whispered aloud. The whisper only made the house seem emptier. The guards and servants outside the room made no noise.
Papa’s office was cavernous, the light on his desk failing to chase away the shadows in the corners. “Did you ever mean to tell me?”
She was not his child. She had never spent nine months tucked inside her mother to emerge into their arms. She had been born far away to complete strangers. And she was—
What was this? A Norn? What did that mean? She didn’t even know who she could talk to about this. What to do, what to
think
?
She finally stopped pacing at the window. The sky was so heavy and gray that she wouldn’t be surprised to see the year’s first snow. She was so alone, always. If Papa were truly to
die, every day might look as heavy and gray as this, even if the sun was shining.
But he lied to you anyway. Just like he lied to Freddy. He didn’t trust you to handle the truth. What other reason for hiding it away in this
—cowardly—
letter!
She threw the letter at the wall. Her shoulders shook.