Author's Note: I'm on a roll this week! lol! I also plan on posting another chapter today :) I so appreciate all the reviews and likes - you guys make my day with every one of them :) :) Happy Friday everyone!
Usagi
The wine went down a little too easy, and I had to pace myself to stop.
Rubeus, Dimande and I were sitting in a salon off of the grand ballroom, each silently sipping from our cups while we waited. A fire simmered in the hearth and an enchanted piano played a soft tune that lulled me closer to sleep.
When I first arrived in the room, we made feeble attempts at polite conversations. Rubeus commented on dinner when I sat down and Dimande had asked me how I was feeling, but other than that, the three of us might as well have been on completely separate planets, simmering in our own agonizing silence.
Anxiously I watched the double doors that led into the salon. I did not know what Pitre looked like—other than he was short, according to Rubeus—and each time I glanced over to that side of the room, I pictured a different man walking through the doors. Sometimes he had flaming red hair like Rubeus, other times he had silky blonde curls that fell gently across his face.
Each minute dragged on as we waited so I kept sipping.
A spark in the fireplace drew my gaze. The brilliant flames went from a deep, neon orange to emerald green, and then to bright blue and purple. Each color grew more vibrant and suddenly it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. That didn't dull the fire, instead it made it pulsate against the slate hearth and cascade out from underneath its protective cove.
Black smoke billowed and swirled from all corners of the room, gathering right in the center, squarely within my reach. The translucent sheen hardened into something solid and I realized that it was in the shape of a man. Covered in a heavy, black cloak, the figure had no face or feet, it simply floated above the ground coated in darkness.
Rubeus and Dimande did not move. They didn't even acknowledge the creature. I knew it had to be Pitre.
The more tangible his body became, the softer the flames grew. They flickered back to orange and yellow, the flames contained themselves within the confines of the fireplace, and the strange, magical mist that choked the room had completely dissipated. My hands were pressed so firmly in the arms of the chair I feared I might break it.
Pitre glided a bit closer to me, and I pressed my back against my seat. All around him was the metallic and burning smell of magic, a singed copper immediately after being met with flame. His movements were liquid and my eyes were transfixed to him.
"You must be Usagi," his voice rumbled out of him, gravely and deep. I swallowed.
"Yes," I nearly whispered. "Yes, I am."
"My name is Pitre." I could not see his face underneath the darkness of his hood, but I could hear the smile forming on his lips as he said his name. "I have been waiting so long to meet you."
His words sent a cold shiver down my spine. I had so many questions for him, but suddenly I was struck with an uncharacteristic shyness. Simply looking at him frightened me to my core. I had bested many enemies in my life, but something about Pitre made me feel weak and helpless. Maybe he had an enigmatic power that superseded any other foe I had faced before or maybe I was just out of practice when it came to overcoming evil.
"Pitre," Dimande's voice cut through me, causing me to release just a bit of the tension roiling through me.
"Dimande," Pitre replied. Rubeus took another sip of his wine and didn't make eye contact with him, but Dimande had stood up.
"Usagi requested to meet you before she agreed to help you," Dimande said. "This is why I've arranged this meeting."
"She did, eh?" A low growl emanated from his body. He floated toward me and circled my chair, a shark in the water smelling fresh blood. "What might she want to discuss?"
"You can at least curb your rudeness and stop speaking to her as if she's not in the room," Rubeus said sharply. Dimande side-eyed him and I felt my throat clench tight. Pitre floated back around me, finally coming to a stop as he stood in front of me.
"So then speak," he said, and I knew he was talking to me. "What do you so desire to understand?"
"I…" My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and forced my body to relax. "I want to know what you want with me."
"What I want with you…" Pitre trailed off. "What I want…"
Rubeus and Dimande both studied Pitre, but without seeing his face, it was impossible to know what he was thinking. The darkness that shrouded him made him impenetrable, but I couldn't let him best me. Clearly he wanted to feed off me, unafraid to suck me dry. Without a fight, I would more or less be inviting him in.
"I know you want my crystal—or, you want to use my power," I said sternly, a meek attempt to make myself sound more confident than I really was. "And I am not opposed to doing so, but I can't just give it to you. I have to understand why."
"Well, Usagi," he said. "I—like my friend Dimande—was cast out of my world because people were apprehensive of my power."
"Should they have been?" I asked. "Did they have reason?"
He laughed, a low, haunting chuckle that lingered. "Most people are afraid of things they do not understand."
"You know what she's asking," Rubeus chimed in. "Don't dodge the question."
"If I wanted your input I would ask for it," Pitre hissed. "Rubeus, need I remind you who I am?"
Rubeus snorted. "You don't need to remind me, but I'm sure Usagi would love to be enlightened."
A strangling silence gripped us all. If Pitre was trying to win favor with me, he was doing a horrible job. I was already anxious about helping him—my main motivation for even allowing this conversation to take place was because I felt sorry for Dimande and Rubeus. Now, as he chastised Rubeus and as he spun circles around his true intentions, I couldn't help but question why I had come in the first place.
I did think Dimande was true. I did not think he was lying to me. I had to believe he would not lie to me to put me in harm's way. With Pitre right in front of me, though, I started to feel the sinking power of regret.
"I don't mean to be so callous," Pitre said, his hooded head cocking in my direction. "My manners are out of practice, I've been in the River so long."
I could not see his face, but I knew he was waiting for reassurance from me. It was the way the smoke around him billowed, how his long, black cloak drifted in a non-existent wind. He was like death itself and yet somehow more sinister. I nodded my head and allowed him to continue.
"I met Dimande in the River some weeks ago," Pitre said. "But I had heard whispers about your power long before he and I had crossed paths. A beautiful guardian of love and justice, a woman who is charitable and helps the downtrodden. It was hard to believe it myself-could someone truly be so exquisite? I knew I had to meet you."
"Who told you about me?" I said.
"Why, I can't recall her name," Pitre paused, the arm of his cloak rising to the darkness in front of him. He unsheathed a white, bony hand with claw-like fingernails and twirled it in and out the smoke. Blue veins twisted around his knuckles and it was hard to keep my mouth from going slack.
"What did she tell you, exactly?" I asked, forcing myself to look away from his hand.
"That if I wanted to bring justice to my people, you were the one to find," he said. "And so I found you."
"You had Dimande find me," I corrected him. He let out a low laugh.
"Yes," his voice was sweet. "Yes I did."
"So what do you want with me now?" I already knew his answer, but I wanted the satisfaction of hearing it from him.
"Many years ago in a dimension not so different from this, I was forced out because of what I am," he said. "An evil queen ruled over us and her tyranny knew no end. She cursed me, Usagi, to look like this if I were ever to find a way out of the River, and I have not found peace since she betrayed me. But if you help me and allow me to come back to life, I can show you the man I truly am, and I can fix things with my people.
"Dimande and Rubeus—they, too, can fix things with their people," he continued. "You are scared of me because I am cursed, not because I am truly evil. You must believe me. I wouldn't call on you if it were not true."
Dimande had said the same thing. He told me I could trust him, and at first, I did not want to. But it was Dimande that pulled me back from the edge, it was Dimande who fought the monster in the wood, it was Dimande who told me that if I didn't want to use my magic, he would not make me. Something in me ached to shut down Pitre, but this other wounded part wanted to open up to him.
If only I had more time to make my choice.
"Please," Pitre said, his voice quivering and desperate. "Please help me."
"I just…" I tried to find the words. "I just don't know."
"You're very confused," Pitre cooed. "And rightfully so. But desperate times call for desperate measures, Usagi. My magic won't allow me to stay in this world for much longer before I am forced to return to the River. It's my last chance to rid my people of a megalomaniac. To rid myself of this wretched curse."
My eyes cascaded over to Dimande and Rubeus. Slumped over himself with his elbows on his knees, Dimande was intently looking at the floor. Rubeus, on the other hand, was lounging in his chair, reaching for his glass that sat on the end table. Something was wrong about all of this. Something wasn't right.
"Please," Pitre said again as sweetly as I thought he could muster. "I will return you home when all of this is done-back to your life like nothing had ever happened. I swear it"
My head pounded.
"I need to think about it," I said quietly. Pitre brought his bony hands together and interlaced his fingers. He bowed slightly—a sign of respect, I'm sure he knew—and he floated backward enough to give me room to leave.
"Very well," he responded. "Take all the time you need."
I stood up and hurried out of the room, not bothering to even say goodbye or look at Dimande or Rubeus. As I climbed the stairs, I realized how much I had been shaking. My hands rapped against the bannister and I flexed my fingers to try to regain control. Every step was agonizing and I had to beg my feet to carry me.
All of it was flashing by me. Pitre was so unsettling, but was it a curse? Believing is a funny thing. The difference between a lie and a truth is often just a fraction of trust. Letting Pitre get under my skin could either deliver two innocent men to salvation, or could leave my world in ruin. The stakes were too high and the pressure building in my soul fizzed and bubbled beneath my skin.
My body froze, my knees buckled and I took a deep breath. How could I make a decision when I could barely stand? Everything was pulling me into a different direction, and with my mind so clouded, it was nearly impossible to find which way my moral compass was pointed. I wished my friends were there to counsel me. I wished I could talk to Luna about what I should do.
I was ripping apart at the seams and I felt like I was drowning.
I finally found the door to my room and I pressed up against it, sucking in one long, ragged breath and pushing back a waterfall of tears welling behind my eyes. A hand brushed up against my shoulder and gripped me, tightening around the fabric of my dress.
"Usagi," Dimande's voice was tense.
"I need to be alone," I said, shoving him off. "I need time to think."
"Please," he spun me around so he could look in my eyes. His hands held onto my shoulders and he gripped hard. "I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" My body trembled. His eyes roved my face, twisting in a sadness I had never seen from him.
"I'm sorry about everything—about involving you in this, about bringing you here."
I shook my head. My mind was still racing from everything. Pitre's story, Dimande's quest to right his wrongs, the enchanted castle: It was all crashing down on me and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Tears brimmed my eyes and I pulled away from Dimande. As my back pressed up against the door, he eased his grip and I fumbled for the handle.
I spun into my bedroom and Dimande's hand lingered on my arm. He followed me inside as I crossed the room. My chest heaved as I sat down on my bed, rivers of tears flowing freely from my eyes, and he knelt down in front of me.
"Usagi," he pleaded. "Please."
"I don't know what to believe," I cried. "I'm so confused. I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest."
"I know." He reached up and placed his palm on my face. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, a sob ripping through me. "Why did you do this to me?"
His eyes went wide. The sorrow burning through him was palpable, his face twisting with hurt and regret. If everything else in this crystal castle was a lie, the look on his face as he caressed my skin was the strongest of truths.
"I was selfish," he said. "I wanted to…"
"I know what you wanted," I whispered against his palm. "My heart is telling me one thing but my mind is telling me another."
"Usagi." Dimande shifted and moved his other hand to my cheek, forcing me to look into his eyes. "I will take you home. I will do whatever you ask of me. If you do not want to help Pitre, I will fight to defend you, even if it means I am not able to bring back my people."
My cheeks flushed and my tears ceased. I had not yet decided what I was going to do about Pitre, and part of my worry was that extracting myself from here without doing so was going to be a bigger challenge than it was worth. Now he was here, promising me he would protect me at any cost.
A wave of pleasure rolled in my core, pulling up from my center and fluttering over my skin. My hips pushed against the bed and I wanted to writhe my most sensitive spot against the sheets. His thumb brushed against my skin, and despite my body being on fire, a cool ripple of chills shot down me. My lips parted and I wanted to beg Dimande to put me out of my misery.
My past, my future—both were so intertwined with an ideology of goodness. Right versus wrong, good versus evil. A binary life for a girl who loved simplicity. But when it was all stripped away, when I was forced to realize that a life that is "right" is not inherently "good," something in me unlocked.
I had played the role I was destined to fill. I had patiently waited. I sacrificed so much just to fit a mold I no longer desired. Then, this flicker smoldered inside of me. Dimande and Pitre were the other side of the same coin: Whereas I was a symbol for justice, they were symbols for evil. The heat rising in me—the want, the desire—told me that I was no longer untainted by the ferocious gravity of doing something wrong. I wanted to be pulled in and submit to it.
If I was not all good, could they be all bad?
"For so long I've let my heart swim in darkness," Dimande said softly. "You're the first person who has given it light."
And just like that, I let the insatiable yearning pull me under.