Marshall - A Blade of Black Steel

My candle burns at both ends;

It will not last the night;

But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends

It gives a lovely light!

Edna St. Vincent Millay, First Fig

T he girl slept in her nest of flannel sheets and heavy down, dreaming the honeyed dreams of the few and the privileged, but awoke in the early hours to find her world aflame.

Come, her mother called in the dark of her daughters bedchamber, backlit by the unsteady lanterns of the servants who waited at the door. Quickly, Sori, you must see.

Yet Sori already saw, a faint glow creeping over the casement of her picture window with dawn still many dreams distant. She scrambled out of bed and went toward the window, the chill granite floor beneath her feet warning her this was no nightmare. Before she reached the stained-glass panes in the likeness of their blocky family crest, her mother slid off her beaver-lined cloak and cast it like a net over the girls shoulders, steering her toward the door.

I said quickly, said her mother, and more startling than the glint of Lady Shelss breastplate in place of her gold-threaded nightgown was the trembling hand she pressed into her daughters back. That hand ought to be as firm as the steel the woman wore at her belt and, for the first time since her parents had told her that trouble might descend on their tranquil kingdom, Sori found herself afraid.

Wait, said the girl, turning toward her vanity, and when her mothers fingers tightened to draw her away, she said, I need Moonspell.

Her mother hesitated, then released her, and when Sori hurried back with her sword she saw her mothers teeth shining as bright as her golden war paint in the flickering light. Sori knew better than to ask questions as they strode upward through the keep, the tumult echoing through the halls and up from the courtyard making her heart pound; were they actually under attack? As they reached the spiral staircase leading to Fathers observatory, her mother stopped and addressed her daughters hovering handmaids.

Go and pack, the lot of you, and be sure blades are brought as well as bonnets. Take only what you can carry on your own backs, then go to my chambers and help yourselves to whatever you wish from my closets and jewelry boxes. Do not tarry, though, and leave from the southern gates fast as you can. It may be safer if you travel in twos and threes, but neither all together nor alone.

Tristessa, who had braided Soris hair for as long as she could remember, burst into tears, and Halfaxa shook her nearly bald head, meeting Lady Shelss eyes as she said, No, mlady, we will not desert this house when

You will do as youre told, said Soris mother in a stern tone she had heretofore reserved only for her children. I should have dismissed you from the first, pray do not compound my crime by lingering a moment longer. They will be here by dawn, and there is nothing more you can do.

But Sori Tristessa began, but again Lady Shels interrupted her maids.

It will be better for all if Sori goes with Corben. Before Sori could recover from the shock of hearing she was to be sent away with her fencing instructor, a yet more confounding sight met her watering eyes in the lantern-bright corridor: her stiffly formal mother stepped forward and threw her arms around Halfaxa, the two women embracing. Then her mother stepped back and, bowing to her servants, said, It has been an honor to have you wait upon my family. Now flee while you still may.

Before, Sori had not spoken out of customary obedience, but as she followed her mother up the tower staircase she found herself unable to speak out of sheer panic. Even after the lecture Father had given her the previous week about preparing herself for some very big changes, she had never imagined such chaos. Her mother took her hand as they climbed the stair, and though she was almost fifteen years old, Sori still found herself choking back tears.

Father, Arkon, and Esben were already on the rampart when they emerged onto the level roof of the tower, Corben holding the door open for his mistress and pupil. The stars Lord Shels would contemplate from this roost were drowning beneath waves of smoke, the grey sheets hanging thick above them like exiled clouds that had gathered to muster their strength before retaking the heavens. Father turned from the glow to the north, and upon seeing his wife and daughter tried to smile but couldnt quite pull it off.