Chapter 10: Andrak

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Disclaimer: I do not own LoliRock or profit from the LoliRock properties by writing this story. This story is written for pleasure's sake. All rights reserved.

Notes: Like I mentioned in the previous chapter, there is now a glossary and list of spells for this story at .com. Check it out if you have questions or write to me there.

Two years ago in Calyx.

The Ball of Roses was supposed to be the event of the social season. The Queen of Calyx had finally decreed the removal of the black bands on all the flags and banners, officially putting an end to the seven-year-long state mourning. The ball was supposed to be Carissa's debut into court, the day she stopped being a child and became a lady. It was supposed to be one of the best of days of her life, short of her wedding day and the birth of her children.

It had been none of those things.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, chest rising and falling in short powerful bursts. Icy cold air burned her lungs. She woke up slowly even though she was already standing on her own feet. Her eyes regained their sapphire blue colour and her hair its fiery orange intensity. The flames of shanila extinguished around her. Her hair grew back to its original length, falling in coppery waves down her dress.

Her shanila was complete.

Carissa stood in the middle of the devastated throne room. The floor had been ripped in half by black crystal and her parents' granite thrones obliterated. Half of the painted ceiling was gone, letting in a flurry of snow. Five of the eight chandeliers had crashed to the floor. The great stain glass window that had depicted the eight gods of Calyx had been destroyed by a powerful blast, littering the floor with piles of coloured shards like autumn leaves. Hundreds of people were frozen in crystal eggs, others lied on the ground unconscious or dead. The throne room was more courtyard than hall now.

Out in the snow-covered gardens below, the battle against the army of black crystal monsters still raged on.

She held a white gold crown in her numb hands, clutching it tightly. She gasped, all the air leaving her. It was her mother's crown, the Crown of Calyx. Stupidly, she dropped the thing and it clattered at her feet, rolling away.

No! She ran after the tiara and snatched it up. She used her dress to polish it clean and then held it close to her chest.

"Congratulations." A slow sharp clap echoed in the empty room. "I knew you could do it."

Praxina appeared in front of her. She had a ruby sabre tucked under her arm like a fan. She wore a red velour dress with deep cut lined with ermine.

"His Mighty Malevolence Lord Gramorr is impressed with your skills, Carissa," Praxina said.

Without warning, there was a flash of green and black fire and Mephisto materialized beside his sister, a sword in hand. He wore a form-fitting green jacket embroidered with golden serpents on the lapels. Overhead, a great black crystal dragon flew circled in the night sky.

The green-eyed boy smiled at her but she took a step back, terrified of him and his dragon that terrorized the castle. Praxina and Mephisto worked for Gramorr the Usurper.

They were here to finish what Gramorr had started. To kill that was left of Lady Morgaine's legacy and that included Carina. No, that was wrong. They promised to show Carissa the truth and they did.

The rubble behind the twins shuddered and collapsed on itself. The Prince Consort crawled out of the pile of glass and stone. He pushed off a slab of purple crystal, revealing the Queen of Calyx. Her sister Carina was covered in dust and glass.

"Carissa, run!" the Prince Consort roared, seeing her flanked by the Sidonay twins.

The Calixan princess was rooted to her place. The knife-like edges of her mother's tiara dug into her palms. Carissa felt a lot of things as she stared at her sister and her brother-in-law.

Angry. Betrayal. Sadness. There was fire in her, but not from her shanila. It was a deep-seated blaze born of anguish and despair.

Seeing her wobble, Mephisto placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "I'm here for you, Carissa," he said quietly. Just his words lifted her up and made her feel strong.

Praxina spoke up, cruelly pointing her sword at the queen. "You have undeniable proof, Carissa. That woman—your sister—is not the Queen of Calyx. What will you do?"

Carissa stared at the crown in her hands and then at Carina. Her anger at her sister outweighed even the surprise betrayal from the twins.

Her older sistered stumbled to her feet, holding her round pregnant belly. "Carissa, listen—"

"You lied to me!" Carissa screamed at the top of her lungs, silencing everyone and everything. Her voice rang out in the cold air. It was a small relief to let out her rage.

"You lied to me and Sir Hendrik and the Shield and everyone else! How could you! Mamma and Papa died for this crown, died for us!" There was nothing she could do about the tears rolling down her face. Her hands shook from the cold and the pain of holding the Crown of Calyx.

Her older sister straightened and regained her regal composure. Impending motherhood had never softened her features.

Her sister tried again. "Carissa—"

Carissa shook her head, her face wet and the tears becoming pinpricks on her cheeks from the cold. "You're not the queen of me anymore, Carina. I did everything you said and I never questioned it. All I wanted was to have some sort of family with you. Was it too much to ask you to love me?"

Carina's imperious gaze was enough to melt stone. Ordinarily, Carissa would have wilted under those sapphire eyes that resembled too much like her mother's, but in the last year with Praxina and Mephisto's help, her skin had grown thicker. It had been their plan all along to turn her against her sister and it had worked.

"It wasn't easy for me when Mamma and Papa died," Carina explained, "I was young and alone. I wasn't prepared for the throne—"

"And it wasn't hard for me?" Carissa's voice stuttered. "They were my parents too. I was seven years old and alone. I had no idea what was going on when it happened. You locked me in a room! All I had was you. Now, look at where we are, Carina." The younger sister gestured to the destruction around her. She swallowed the apology on her tongue. She wanted to apologize and take everything back, to revert to the small child who understood nothing.

Before anything else could happen, Spenser and a dozen other Shields burst into the room, blasting through the crystal barrier at the doors. They closed in around Carissa and the Sidonay twins.

"Step away from the princess!" a knight commander yelled.

"Looks like we're being kicked out," Mephisto said to his sister.

"Our job is done here. Let's go, little brother." Praxina's form burst into dark red flames, disappearing.

Mephisto turned to Carissa, speaking hesitantly. He offered a gloved hand to her. "Take my hand, Carissa. It'll be worst for you than if you stay here."

She should have gone with him. Instead, she stayed to face her sister. She had regretted it ever since.

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The present.

The Temple of Andrak scowled down at them from under a darkening sky. It was as destroyed and untouched as it had been a week ago. Carissa shivered, flashbacks of the battle coming back to her mind with awful clarity. The dark monolith stood apart from the other escarpments and mountains. Black crystal jutted out from rock face, draining the energy from the surrounding forest.

The giant lodestone that used to float above the temple was gone, having crumbled from Iris's power and tumbled down the mountain in a landslide. The same one that had killed Mephisto.

She gulped. Mephisto's dead body was down there somewhere, whatever was left it. The idea made her want to throw up.

No one talked about how Aleksei had escaped two days ago in the middle of the night. Jodan had turned away for two seconds to piss and the girl had run away with only some of the food, nothing else. Spenser had been mighty pissed about it, but seeing as the girl had only taken food, he let the issue go.

Carissa hoped that the girl survived whatever came for her next. She wished that the Aleksei had not stayed with them. They could have used another princess in the fight against Gramorr's army.

Now, they stood on the lip of a cliff, hidden in a craggy crevice, looking for signs of recent activity at the Temple of Andrak. They had been watching the ruin since before sunrise. There was a village within eyeshot on the far side of a lake, nestled peacefully in green fields rippling in the wind, unaffected by the battle at Andrak.

"You're awfully quiet," Spenser said, sitting beside her with his thought crystal in hand.

"There isn't much to say."

Carissa unbraided her hair and used a fine-tooth comb to brush the tangles. What she would not do for a full body bath, even if it was in a freezing cold river. Her hair was a mess, full of split ends. She missed how it used to be so much silkier. She used to be a pretty-as-a-jewel princess who wore only the most expensive clothes with her hair piled upon her head in a stylish jewelled coiffure. These days, she barely recognized the face in the mirror.

"Scared?" Spenser asked.

She stopped combing for a moment. "I don't know. Yes…maybe. I'm scared of what I'll find up there."

"Me too."

"You, really?"

"Of course. I've never faced Gramorr before and I wouldn't last in a fight against him."

The idea of fighting Gramorr again terrified her. Spenser would be swatted away like a fly if he ever tried to go up against the evil wizard. Maybe Jodan would have a chance thanks to his medallion and royal heritage.

"Any news from Sir Hendrik?" she asked, trying to beat down her mounting panic. She did not want to talk about Spenser dying. "How about Izira and Lyna?"

"Things are not good. The Xerins have stopped talking to us. They won't let Sir Hendrik anywhere near Izira. Lyna's fine too, but Hendrik confined her to your tent just to be safe. The Shield is taking care of the Borealian."

Carissa kept brushing her hair. They were keeping Lyna separate from Izira so that they would not consolidate power against the Shield, especially with her, Jodan and Spenser gone. "It's not going well."

The knight shook his head. "Whatever happened to Izira that morning isn't something we can ignore. If she can't control her powers, then we can't let her keep the Medallion of Xeris. She nearly killed us in her sleep."

"She's doing her best!" she defended. "She's only had her medallion for a few days. Jodan on the other hand, he's had his medallion the whole time but he's never used it to help us. I've never even seen him activate it."

"Hey!" Spenser cuffed her on the side of the head. "Don't you dare say that Jodan doesn't pull his weight. He may not the first to jump to the vanguard but he helps plenty in the camp. Not every prince and princess is a warrior. When was the last time you hunted and prepared your own food?"

Carissa lowered her eyes. She was being childish and looking for easy excuses to justify her dislike of Jodan. "It's hard to trust him. He doesn't trust Izira or Lyna or anyone."

"Why should he?"

"We freed him from Kroznak and after everything, he still doesn't trust us with anything. He hid the fact that he was a prince for weeks. I couldn't even tell if he knew magic or not."

"And so you think he should be showing you gratitude or that he should cooperate with us? We are Lady Morgaine's Shield. We don't do this for glory or praise, and we're certainly not doing it in the name of the Imperial Crown. We do it because it's right and that's the only thing that should matter. Unlike you, he's had a genuinely difficult life."

Carissa sputtered. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The older boy pointed to her golden armband. "You grew up in a castle, safe inside your own country. He grew up on the run. He didn't go to school or become a squire. He didn't start a rebel army. He ran and hid from Gramorr for ten years. When you're alone and you feel like the world is against you, trusting people is the last thing you're going to do. You have no idea what its like to grow up with literally nothing, Carissa."

"And you do?" she sniped. She hated Spenser's tone, how it picked at the things that she could not correct or perfect.

The knight furrowed his brows at her tone. "Yes, you know that I don't have a last name for a reason."

She realized her mistake and quieted. She had reopened a wound for Spenser. "Sorry. That was…that was childish of me."

The princess had nothing else to add, nothing meaningful that did not sound like childish whining, and so she rebraided her hair as Jodan approached them. The Voltan wore his usual serious countenance.

The three of them cleaned up their camp, erasing all evidence of their presence. They mounted up, pulling their hoods over their heads and carefully made their way up the switchbacks to the temple.

Carissa shuddered and looked over the edge of the decimated terrace where she had stood a week ago, where Mephisto had fallen to his death…

A wave of nausea hit her. She wanted all of this to be a bad dream.

The bottom was littered with thousands of crystal shards glimmering in the sunlight. In the distance, she could see the Imperial Castle. The lodestone atop the Tower of Lux was a shiny white speck. She closed the capital in her gloved fist, thinking on how long it had taken to finally get here. Too long.

If Mephisto had somehow miraculously survived, he would have died of exposure by now.

She took in the temple. Time to face the music—it was an Earth saying that Iris had told once. The doors to the temple were blown wide open. A curtain of darkness stared back at her. She really did not want to go in. In fact, she wanted to run in the opposite direction but she had no choice. They needed to know what was in there.

Belphoebe, Spenser's giant crystal leopard, slunk over, spine up and tail flicking. The beast inspected the temple from the threshold and brushed by Carissa in warning. The large cat made her dislike for the place known. She sensed danger, or at the very least the remnants of dark magic. It swirled and congealed even though it was invisible to the eye.

Jodan and Spenser were not unaffected either. The Calixan knight kept a straight face and placed a firm hand on the princess's should. "Take a deep breath. Gramorr is dead. Whatever's left here can't hurt you," he assured.

Right. No real reason to fear. Just bad memories the last of Gramorr's terrible magic.

Fenrir and Belphoebe stayed outside, not wanting to enter the temple. They sensed the great evil within. Even for black crystal creatures, they wanted no part of it.

The temple was empty. Sunlight filtered in from a destroyed portion of the ceiling and cast light upon the altar at the rear of the chamber.

"Someone beat us to it." Jodan bent down and inspected the floor. "Footprints in the dust," he remarked.

Carissa bent down. She saw a giant paw print, feline, bigger than Belphoebe's. Banes.

There were more sets of footprints; one a set of dainty heels; the other a man's pair of boots. She recognized the size and treads of the boots. Mephisto's. She knew them well enough from her last encounter with him on Earth. It had been a stupid thing to notice that he had gotten new leather boots, expertly made by a cordwainer. She had been jealous. The leather had been barely creased, the treads not worn down.

It galled her that she remembered such a detail.

But it was impossible. Mephisto was dead. Praxina said it so herself, so these prints must have been older. Maybe months old.

The other footprints must have been Praxina's.

The wary trio checked every nook and cranny of the temple and found no one.

There was a drying puddle just under the hole in the ceiling from some shower that had passed a few days ago. The puddle intersected a ruined circle drawn on the ground and Carissa was careful to avoid it. She could see Mephisto's touch in the perfectly drawn circle. The runes were artfully painted, the elaborate symbols crafted with precision. Carissa could not recognize half the symbols and neither could Spenser, whose eyes glowed silver in the darkness like a cat's. Another of the many gifts of being in a covenant with the demon Belphoebe: seeing perfectly in the dark.

Spenser busied himself with copying the circle for later research while the Calixan princess delved deeper into the temple. Jodan was knelt on one knee at the foot of a carved wall, his head bowed and his hands folded together in front of him. It was not a new thing to see the Voltan pray when they came across a statue of a Voltan spirit or god.

The wall depicted a goddess, probably one of the Melzors, in haut-relief. Everything was covered moss except for the goddess herself. It looked quite unnatural, especially with the sunlight shining down on her. She had been cleaned by someone's hand and her face lovingly repainted. More of Mephisto's work. Was it considered desecration when it was a holy statue?

There was an inscription at the goddess' feet hidden in flowers. "Andrakia," Carissa read.

"Andracia," Jodan pronounced emphatically, between breaths of whispered prayers. "That isn't a kaun, it's a classical sig rune."

"Wait, you can read?" Carissa asked.

"Can I read?" Jodan countered incredulously, looking stupefied at the princess.

There was a long and uncomfortable pause. Spenser looked up at them curiously. Carissa had no idea how to interpret the situation. Had she made a mistake?

The awkward silence grew longer and soon Jodan started laughing. "Of course I can read!" He reached over flicked her forehead. She had seen him do that to Auriana too, to tease her. The mood between them lightened. "You're joking, right? I taught Auriana how to read before we ran away."

The purple princess rubbed her forehead, red-faced.

"How was I supposed to know? I just thought that because you—you know what, never mind…" Carissa felt like such an idiot and looked away to hide her face. She had assumed that he was illiterate like many of the commoners in their resistance, forgetting that he was a prince.

"Carissa!" Spenser sounded embarrassed on her behalf. It came out as a laugh.

The princess turned away, red-faced, realizing that both of them were laughing at her. Spenser was at the other end of the room clutching his stomach so hard he could not concentrate on his slate. She shot a bolt of crystal at the knight to get him to shut up.

Good Gods of Calyx, she wanted the earth to swallow her up right now.

"Sorry," she said under her breath to Jodan and wrung her gloved hands. Her embarrassment soon turned to awe. "You taught her how to read?"

"Well, mostly her alphabets and numbers, basic words and things like that. I don't know if Auriana it kept up though. I used to read them stories before bed.

"Them?"

"The three of them. Y'know, Auriana, Aurora and…Aurelie. Back when we were all together, alive. Mostly mother wanted me to practice my reading on them even though we were prisoners. There was this quiet book about matching animals that they really liked."

There was something in Jodan's voice that warmed Carissa's heart, less annoyance and more nostalgia for a better time, and it made her stare at her boots. Memories of her mother or father coming to her bed and telling her stories before tucking her into bed and turning the lamp off came to mind. It was a lifetime ago. She missed it. She missed them.

"You're a good brother," Carissa said.

The archer shrugged and tried to continue praying—he was still snickering and laughing. She took that as a good moment to exit and stew in her embarrassment in peace. There was still a lot of the temple to cover.

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Jodan kept Gramorr out of his prayers when he implored to Andracia to watch over this temple. He silently begged for the goddess to find Mephisto's soul and accompany him back home to Erebus so that he could find his way to his version of the afterlife. Mephisto, despite all the horrible things he did under Gramorr, deserved to be mourned like any other man. He also prayed for happier moments in life, like opportunities to tease Carissa. He then prayed to Aurelie and then to his father, asking for guidance and forgiveness.

He rose, stretched his arms above him and went to help Spenser when he finished.

"Transverto immuto inli regis filia…" Jodan mumbled as he read one of the inscriptions. The rest had been scratched out by somebody. Jodan paced around the circle that Spenser was busy copying.

The circle was drawn with paint and crushed crystals, bearing the symbol of the Ephedian royal family in the centre, its famed four-pointed star that had been derived from the Star of Calyx. It was evidence of their humble beginnings from an upstart cadet branch. The circle's second layer was a pattern of foliate arabesques and fat palmettes winding around empty spaces. Were these spaces for a caster's personal sigillum? Did it require more than one caster? Probably. Only one space had been filled out and Spenser was kneeling in front of it. The spaces were glaring evidence of an incomplete spell along with the missing runes in the words lining the circumferences.

Jodan tried again, trying to make sense of it. Runes could be read in almost any conceivable direction. They could represent different sounds or meanings depending on the sorcerer or sorceress. There were hundreds of schools of magic across the empire and even more outside the crown borders.

"Transverto immuto inli regis filia," Jodan said with more emphasis, but with no magic. The words were familiar. He knew these words from somewhere, but something was wrong.

He filed the thought away for another time and tried another form of reading. He kept quiet as he recognized half-written names. It was a failsafe for the superstitious. Having a sorcerer's true name, their praenomen, gave other people power over them. Prax…Meph…Luce…Ezra…

He had a small heart attack but kept his face straight. He eyed Spenser but he was sure the knight had no idea who 'Ezra' was. Spenser was oddly quiet.

Something was wrong. The Calixan knight's breathing was short and his hands were shaking over his slate.

Jodan's eyes had to be tricking him but there was no mistaking the half-drawn Star of Calyx and the string of symbols encircling it.

"'Regis filia Carissa Maeva Sibylla'?" Jodan read, saying it too loud. The name echoed in the temple chamber uncomfortably. Instinctively, he took a step back and put a hand on his knife.

It made no sense. Carissa's name should not have been here, let alone her star. His own name, Praxina's, Mephisto's, Luce's, he could understand—they were Gramorr's agents. But Carissa? Outside of her obvious and tenuous ties to the royal family of Ephedia and her past fake friendship with the twins, it did not make sense.

"I don't understand," Spenser said. His voice was quaking as he dropped his slate and pencil on the floor. He was just as surprised as the Voltan prince.

"Why is Carissa's name here?" Jodan asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"Jodan, I don't know." Spenser turned and saw the prince's stiff stance. "Carissa would never work with them—!"

"Carissa was best friends with Mephisto back in Calyx. It's been two years since she's then and she's still infatuated with him. You want me to believe that she wouldn't run to their side?"

"Carissa's not a traitor," the knight gritted out. "It's not possible. She's always with Izira or the Shield."

"Except on Earth." Jodan let lie in the air like a stranger's gauntlet.

The rest went unsaid. It was a bluff on Jodan's part but the implications were all too real on Spenser's face. Carissa was loyal to the Shield but more than once, Jodan had heard Spenser or Hendrik criticize Carissa for making dumb tactical decisions like going off on her own to chase a cursed Amaru or picking a fight with the twins with no backup.

"It's a trick." Spenser shook his head. "Probably to mess with our heads."

Jodan was not convinced though. Gramorr was more sly than most gave the dead wizard credit. He also had his other mission to consider from General Azrael.

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Carissa had not known that the temple would lead so deep into the mountain, splitting off into dusty dark corridors illuminated by the glow of black crystal that had grown like moss on a stone. She followed footprints in the dust. More of Praxina and Mephisto's.

"Crystal revellius!" She sent the spell flying down a hallway, trying to weed out traps. She watched the spell dissipate when it hit a door at the end. Small squeaking sounds echoed down the hall.

A furry white bat came flying straight at her, screeching and panicked. Shouting in surprise, she grabbed the rancid flying rodent and slammed it into the ground. Even more came at her.

"Calyx, get off me!" she swore. She used her cloak to cover herself when a swarm came flying down the hallway. She huddled behind a column and cast a spherical shield over herself, checking herself for bite marks and open scratches. She did not want to die of a bat-borne virus.

The dumb creatures bounced against her shield. Nothing possessed or cursed about them. They were just animals reacting to her magic, she guessed.

When the swarm died, she peeked down the hall. Everything had turned quiet but she stayed on her toes. She reached the end and tried the double doors. The hinges did not even squeak when she pushed them wide open. She stopped to take in the room.

It was a large circular chamber with a domed ceiling. It was an observatory. The walls were lined with mostly empty shelves and the floor tiles were cracked, in some places completely removed. A crystal staircase wound around the room, leading to a second-floor platform facing a glass window. The telescope was gone, but the mechanism that once held it was still intact. From the looks of it, it was—or had been—lived in.

It looked like a base for Mephisto and Praxina. Their things were strewn all over. There were two bare cots with woolen mattresses against the walls. Tables and desk were scattered everywhere, littered with papers, maps, scrolls and books. Chests had been pried open and the contents spilled on the floor.

"Ransacked already," the princess said.

Everything important was probably already gone but that did not stop Carissa from grabbing things and throwing them in her cloak. Surely, they had missed something.

She turned over every sheet and flipped through every book for clues. Nothing.

It did not surprise her though. Praxina was not the sort to leave her things out for just anyone to find. The princess checked under the tables and in the chests, looking for false panels and hidden compartments. Nothing still.

She tried the beds, tossing the mattresses on the floor. A book fell out to the floor in a cloud of dust.

Carissa picked it up and brushed the dirt away. A hidden book meant secrets. She felt her mind turn inside out when she realized it was a book she had seen before. It was Praxina's diary from two years ago, back when she had been in Calyx.

She hesitated but curiosity won.

Each entry was meticulously dated. There were pressed leaves and flowers between the pages, drawings of butterflies, spells and magic circle designs, poems and thoughts, written in all sorts of tongues.

Yesterday, we landed in Calixta, the seat of Calyx. It is a lifeless city and the people are austere, more than the Xerins. I think they are hyperaware of their reputation as conquerors and queen-killers and they are trying to be as inoffensive and boring to us as possible. We are being put up in the Camellia Hotel.

Today, we met Queen Carina VII, her husband Consort Prince Eckhart and her younger sister Princess Carissa. Queen Carina had inherited the throne long before she was ready. The previous rulers, King Calixtus and Queen Carina VI, had perished during the Decline. Supposedly, Carina VII came to power when she was fifteen and married her betrothed shortly thereafter.

As expected, the luncheon was a pompous display of power and a fabulous waste of time. Mephisto forced me to wear a crinoline petticoat. I'm going to set it on fire in front of him as soon as I get the chance. Fashion in this country hasn't changed since the Decline.

Carissa cracked a smile. Fashion backwards. She did not miss the crinoline skirts either. Carissa remembered the luncheon very differently.

Queen Carina still wears, or rather, hides behind a white veil in respect to her parents' passing and the general fall of the Ephedian Empire. All the royal banners still fly black bands of mourning. She gives the impression of a pious gods-serving queen.

Her sister Carissa is different. No veil, no mourning. She is pretty, polite and perfect, like all princesses—and too immature (she's barely 13) to be romanced by Meph thankfully.

"Immature?!" Carissa repeated aloud. Had she been that awkward? There had already been other girls her age already betrothed.

I know he was expecting something like that to fall on him but I'm glad that some god above was listening. He can't just marry some random woman from across the continent. Father and Uncle Papi would have a fit and blame me.

Fuck this. Why am I responsible for Mephisto's virtue?!

Mephisto is saying 'HELL NO!' over my shoulder as he reads my journal…

Carissa spotted Praxina's neat letters wobble and then droplets of ink. She guessed that Mephisto had fought to take his sister's pen away. Carissa remembered seeing them do that more than once.

Carissa dreams of being a knight but it is a frowned upon thing for a noblewoman to pursue, as I learnt today when I changed into my uniform for a match of blitzball with Prince Eckhart and the castle's club of cadets. I think I almost made the queen's chamberlain cry. I thought it was funny. (So did Meph.) I don't care for their mores but Meph wants me to play nice until we get a better understanding of their culture. And he thinks I'm scandalous? The idiot already has all the girls at court tripping on their long skirts for him. People are asking if he is betrothed to somebody back home.

I think Carissa is key to understanding the state of this kingdom because I've never seen two sisters act so distant. There is no love between them—

Carissa closed the book, her hands shaking again. She remembered the last cold night in Calyx.

"What the hell do you know about love, Praxina?" Carissa muttered. What she really wanted to do was cry. Praxina's perceptiveness cut like a knife.

Carissa pocketed the diary. Someone else could read about the sordid past she was trying to forget. Or she could set it on fire later. Her hands still shook as she rummaged through what was clearly Mephisto's things.

Unlike Praxina, he did not keep diaries, he kept sketchbooks.

His things were dishevelled. It was the organized chaos of an artist. Hundreds of paint pots and tubes were lined up by colour on the bookshelves, paintbrushes were organized by size and fibre in glass jars, in progress paintings were shelved on a wooden rack to dry and blank canvases were stacked against the wall.

She rummaged through his sketchpads and paintings, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He had perfected his craft and found inspiration everywhere he went, including in his enemies. There were pencil portraits of Iris, Talia, Auriana, Lyna and herself. Scenes of them at the park, at the concert halls and in combat of all things. What an idiot. She had not known that he had watched them so obsessively. He had drawings of Lady Ellira's house and the Smoothie Bar.

Carissa bent down and opened a green trunk on the floor, relishing the familiar click and waxy smell. Mephisto's serpent symbol was branded in the leather.

Finally, she stopped in front of an oversized canvas that stood several heads above her. She used crystal levitus to remove the sheet covering it.

She swallowed hard, fighting whatever emotion was overcoming her.

At first, she had thought it was a painting of a Calixan goddess, maybe one of the venerated warriors like Lady Desdemona, even Lady Morgaine or Queen Maeve. Maybe even her sister Carina.

She knew that long flowing dress and that lacy white veil and sprigs of carissa flowers that had been pinned to long copper locks, shrouded in lilac flames. In the young painted goddess's hands was the Crown of Calyx. In the background was the throne room, the great ceiling-high stained glass windows behind her mother and father's thrones in Calixta. It was her from the Ball of Roses almost two years ago; the same night Praxina and Mephisto had declared themselves Gramorr's agents; the same night Carissa had completed her shanila.

It was a life-size portrait, clearly meant to be displayed for all to see. Under different circumstances, she might have squealed in joy and later blushed red in embarrassment at being the subject of such an outrageous and unique painting. Now, she only felt sadness and a lead weight in her stomach.

"It's quite beautiful," a voice from behind said.

Carissa spun on heel, clubs at the ready. "Show yourself!" she shouted. Klatznik, how had someone gotten past her?

Her eyes darted all over the room until she saw the shadows move like puddles of ink across the domed ceiling. The shadows gathered in the centre and coalesced into a single dark writhing mass. It coiled down into a slender black drop, a slender girl appearing out of the gloom. The girl stood on the ceiling like a bat and jumped, twisting and landing in front of Carissa.

"Praxina?" Carissa shouted.

No, it was not possible. She wore a dress just like Praxina's with the same butterfly symbol on her chest, but it was not her.

The Praxina lookalike was shorter despite her heels, her face rounder and her eyes a greyer shade of blue. Her long burgundy hair had a neat fringe above her eyes. The rest was swept up into ornate buns on the sides of her head ribbons that looked like black butterflies.

"You're far from the shanila magna ceremonia," the girl said.

"And you're…you're Sir Mephisto's younger sister. Sera…?" Carissa stuttered, tongue fuzzy. Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

The girl wrinkled her nose, surprised that someone knew. "I am Lady Serafiel, a knight of the Order of Black and White. And who are you?"

"Uhh…Accala, my lady," Carissa lied too slowly. She had the foresight to at least curtsey like a proper lady.

"Did you know my brother?" Serafiel stood in front of the portrait beside her, admiring the work. "My brother painted this. I think she's the Princess of Calyx. Did you know Sir Mephisto?"

Carissa bit her cheeks. Maybe Serafiel could not tell who the girl in the portrait was. She had changed a lot since the Ball of Roses, grown a couple of inches and cut her hair.

"I only knew him in passing," she lied. "He…he was an excellent artist."

"Everyone says that," Serafiel scoffed. "I used to not believe them until I came down to Volta and saw his work in some of the galleries."

"His work is excellent, my lady."

Serafiel stood in front of the painting for a long time. The more Carissa stared, the more she saw Praxina in her. There was something softer in her eyes though.

"I was seven years when Praxina left. Then Mephisto left when I turned nine. I never cried so hard in my life and I begged him not to go. He said that he was going to become a world renown painter."

"That wasn't true, was it?"

"No." Serafiel let out a sorrowful sigh. "He was a knight. He was going to fight the Empire. He…said that he was going to bring our sister back. People say that we're not supposed to have favourite siblings, but I think that's not true. Mephisto was my favourite over Praxina and I was scared that I was going to lose him forever."

Carissa wished she could share the sentiment about Carina. Mephisto had always been her favourite between the Sidonay twins. Praxina was…intense, good in small measures.

Serafiel continued her story. "Then he got on his horse and left. I don't even remember what he looks like or how his voice sounds anymore. He was a spy, so everything he did was shrouded in secrecy and lies. His messages were few and far between and he never mentioned drawing. I thought he had stopped altogether—" She gestured to canvases and drawings everywhere. "—he hadn't."

"If things had been different, he could've become a master or royal court painter," Carissa added. Her eyes fell on the portrait again. "He's really good."

"If things had been different, he would have never left home," Serafiel said. The girl drew in her breath and Carissa sensed that something changed in her. "You also wouldn't be lying to my face about who you are."

Carissa gripped her clubs tightly. "Listen, I didn't—"

"Anoderere!"

Carissa was slammed into a wall, her head cracking the rotted wood behind her. Her vision blurred, speckled with white. Black crystal pinned her hands to the wall above her head. More sprouted at her feet and climbed up her legs to her hips, trapping her and draining her of her magic.

The room spun for Carissa.

Cool and deadly, Serafiel pointed a black crystal sword to the princess's face. It was a straight double-edged blade made of ruby with a long tassel on the end.

"I'm young, not stupid. I know who you are. Amongst the Resistance is the Princess of Calyx who rides with Third Battalion of Lady Morgaine's Shield."

Serafiel lowered her sword to her side.

"Two years ago, I received a letter from Mephisto saying that he had ended up in Calyx. He always told the most fantastical stories, saying that he became friends with princes and princesses, fought dragons and monsters. I used to think that they were all fabricated lies meant to entertain me until one day, I got a letter that was different than the others. He told me about the Princess of Calyx and how she reminded him of me, a younger sister neglected by an older sibling who was too busy with the burdens of duty. He told me how he was sick of the traveling and cajoling, how he missed home, how he wished he could forget his responsibilities. He talked about you fondly, how you were nothing like the other prats, wishing that I should meet you one day. Finally, a week ago, we received a vocalextra informing us of my brother's death. I came here to find out who was responsible, Princess Carissa."

Carissa's blood turned to ice. She struggled in the black crystal and none of her magic gathered.

"I was there when Mephisto…when it happened, Serafiel," Carissa confessed, trying to stall for time. She already knew she was making a mistake but the words had already left her mouth.

Where were Jodan and Spenser? Had Serafiel dispatched them already?

"You killed my brother?" Serafiel shouted.

"No! No one killed him!" Carissa continued even though her mouth was dry. She told the truth, as much as she knew at least. "It was an accident. The menhir that floated above the temple had gotten knocked off balance during the fight and…and it was going to fall on Praxina. He pushed her out of the way… He… It obliterated him. It had been supercharged with dark magic and it had reacted to a stray bolt. It…exploded."

"Who fired the stray bolt?"

Carissa shook her head. "Serafiel, don't do this, please! It's over! It won't bring him back."

"I want to know who killed him!" Serafiel shrieked.

Carissa recoiled. More black crystal climbed up Carissa's body her anger boiled.

"Veritas!" The girl lifted a hand to Carissa's head and Carissa could feel something invade her mind. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes as Serafiel tore through her memories. Scenes of the Battle of Andrak flooded her mind, coming back to her with intense clarity. Serafiel watched Mephisto's death through the princess's eyes.

Serafiel let out a scream and brought a hand up to her own throat, taking shallow panicked breaths. "I looked everywhere on this gods-cursed mountain for two days and there isn't even been anything to bring back home!"

The emotion was plain on the girl's face. The devastation, the rage, the loss, the finality of it all. There was nothing left.

"But you have Praxina," Carissa mumbled, trying to catch her breath. She broke out in a cold sweat. It came back to her, the heat of battle, the hot crystal exploding around her. "Praxina's still out there. I know where she is. I know how to find her—"

An enchanted arrow whizzed past Serafiel and lodged itself in the black crystal encasing the Calixan princess' hands. The arrow exploded shattered instantly, freeing one of her arms.

Serafiel pivoted just in time to cross swords with Spenser.

"Carissa! Get out of there!" he shouted. Serafiel dove in for a stab and he barely dodged in time. Spenser's movements were sluggish from his injuries and it showed on his face.

"Crystal solvenda!" The Calixan princess smashed the remaining black crystal with her club. She collapsed to the ground.

Spenser and Serafiel fought, each strike measured and calculated. Carissa found her limps and jumped into the fray. Her clubs locked with Serafiel's blade. Carissa threw her back and the girl retreated several lengths back. Everything felt ten times heavier after having been drained by black crystal. She knew Spenser would go in for a decisive stab, so she twisted to give his wrist a firm kick, making him lose his grip on his sword and his forward momentum. His rapier cluttered on the cracked tiles.

"What the fuck, Carissa?" he yelled, rubbing his wrist.

"Stop fighting!" Carissa shouted at him and then locked eyes with Serafiel. Just to be sure, she drew a line in the sand, or rather a line in the tiles with a spell, dividing the room in half with violet crystal.

Serafiel stepped back a safe distance. Spenser drew himself up and called his blade back to his hand, confusion in his eyes. Carissa pointed the head of her club at his chest and that stopped him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, calling his sword back to his hand

"We weren't fighting."

"She had you pinned against the wall!"

"She's Mephisto's sister," she explained. At his look of horror, she added, "No, not Praxina, she's his other sister. She's younger than him. I'm trying to avoid a fight with her."

"Look how well that turned out."

"Will you shut up for a minute and listen to me?" she hissed.

Spenser recoiled and shut his mouth, shocked.

"Spenser, she's only looking for Mephisto's remains, but…"—she lowered her voice to a whisper—"what if we got her to convince Praxina to come back to Ephedia and go home?"

"What?" he said incredulously. "Carissa, she's the enemy!"

Carissa turned to Serafiel, sizing her up. The girl readied for another bout. "She could've killed me. She could've just stabbed me in the back and left me here to die, but she didn't. She announced her presence to me and we talked."

"Carissa, this is crazy!" he argued.

"And you're not in any condition to fight! Do you think you'll be any match against her?" Carissa gritted beneath her breath. Sometimes, she hated how stubborn Spenser could be.

Her eyes darted around the room looking for a sliver of orange. She hoped that Jodan did not skewer Serafiel like he did Izira.

If she could somehow get Serafiel on their side now, they could hopefully avoid a lot of bloodshed on Ephedia and on Earth. They could end a war before it had even begun.

Carissa curtsied again, with the grace befitting a royal princess, glad that she had not completely forgotten all her manners. She schooled her expressions trying channel her sister's queenly irreproachability. "Serafiel, I apologize for lying. I am Princess Carissa of Calyx. And I…I knew your brother for a short time in Calyx as a friend before we became enemies. Despite what he did, I do believe that he was genuinely a good person and he… He didn't deserve to die the way he did here. You saw what happened. I know there isn't anything we can do for your bother, but we can still help Praxina. She's sworn to get her vengeance against the people who killed Mephisto."

"Who is the pink princess in your memories?"

"I can't tell you that, Lady Serafiel."

"Forgive me, but I was under the impression that you were the Princess of Calyx. Is justice and honour not in your blood? My brother was not just some beggar on the street. He was a noble-born son from one the oldest houses in all of Ephedia. He fought in a war that was never ours to begin with."

Carissa wished that Spenser could deal with this. He was the smoother diplomat. "If you go after Mephisto's murderer, what will stop the rest of the Ephedia from coming after your house? Honour and justice is fine and all, but the harder decision is knowing when to stop. I want to avoid senseless violence and lost of life."

"So I'm just supposed to stand by as my brother's murderer walks free in the world? Is that where the violence needs to stop? When my brother gets murdered? Where is the justice then?"

"I'm saying that there are better ways of getting justice, like standing trial before Lady Morgaine's Shield. You don't know Praxina, she's changed—a lot. It's not just Mephisto's death. Something unnatural happened on this mountain and it changed her for the worst. She's going to kill anyone who gets in her way, including a lot of innocent people. We all have to stop her."

Carissa was begging for Iris, Talia and Auriana's lives, for their friend's on Earth and for all the people of Ephedia.

Serafiel was quiet and the Calixan girl thought maybe she had gotten through to her. She hoped the silence was good thing.

She was wrong.

"Praxina is my sister, she wasn't my favourite, but she is my family and she is out there trying to avenge our brother. Mephistopheles was the second born child and I was this third. So everything that was meant for him now falls to me, his titles, his lands, his responsibilities, and it is my duty as his successor to avenge him."

"So you're going to keep doing this out of duty?"

"No, out of love."

Carissa could not help the tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

Love. Love for a brother. Was that what real love made people do?

The conversation was over. There was nothing else to say that could change anyone's mind.

Serafiel lifted a hand and a crystal knife hissed through the air at Carissa. Spenser slammed into the Calixan Princess as the knife sliced his shoulder, both of them crashing to the floor.

A fight erupted in the chamber. Jodan revealed himself from the shadow of a stack of canvases—how did she miss him? He's literally wearing orange—and cornered Serafiel behind a column with his arrows.

Carissa rolled to her feet and ran, circling around the room behind the columns. She had dropped her clubs carelessly somewhere as she broke into a dead run. "Serafiel, please stop! Please! You have to stop!" The more she shouted, the more childish her pleas became.

Serafiel was knelt on the floor, magic circle spinning under her feet. Carissa recognized the power of a summoning as the floor swelled with the mountain's energy.

"Aterodere!"

A black crystal beast rose out of Serafiel's circle. Carissa jumped out of the way and dove behind a column.

Gossamer wings and red claws crawled out from under the balcony, knocking down columns and bringing the second floor crumbling. It was a writhing bat-shaped mass of crystal and fur. One glossy citrine eye glared out from the shadows.

Serafiel took flight and coated the ceiling and doors with glaciers of impenetrable obsidian crystal. Not even light from the outside could refract through it, sealing the room in complete darkness. Serafiel vanished in a burst of dark flames.

The beast let out a silent pulsating shriek that threatened to destroy the room.

Carissa covered her ears. Her head rung like the bells of the Cathedral of Noble Souls. The bat monster's cry was soundless, but it was pitched so high that it pulsated in her ears like a war drum.

And then silence.

Or rather, something akin to it. There was a ringing in her ears she could not shake off.

The room trembled under the thunderous footfalls of the monster. She sidled up against a wall, trying to keep herself from going into full a panic in the darkness. What she wouldn't give to have Spenser's eyes or Amaru's crystal arena right now. She thought against making a light. It would only give away her location.

Spenser, Hendrik and Jodan would chew her out later about all her stupid decisions to led them to where they were.

Orange and violet flashes illuminated the room and glowing crystal flew everywhere. She scrambled across the room, using the dim glow of Spenser's magic circle to guide her. He was hidden behind a barrier of crystal taking potshots in the dark.

"Are you okay?" Spenser asked. Blood started to bloom under the white uniform and dribbled down his right arm. "You're not hurt?"

"You're bleeding out! How deep is it?"

"I'll live."

"It's your sword arm! What are you going to do if you can't fight with your sword?"

"Use my left."

She shook her head and swallowed her nausea. She grabbed a slender knife hidden in her stocking and cut off a part of her cloak to use as a compress.

She starting chanting the few healing spells she knew, using a finger to draw runes around the wound. She watched the bleeding stop and the skin slowly start to stitch itself. She would probably need to go at it with a needle and thread and some poultices.

"I'm sorry about this," she said breathlessly. "You wouldn't be hurt—"

"Not now, Carissa." His voice was gruff and strained, a telltale sign that he was immensely pissed off. After a minute, he breathed easier from the weak healing spell. "Let's destroy that thing and get out of here. I shouldn't be using dark magic at all with these healing salves on me, but desperate times and all. How are you holding up against the black crystal?"

"I can handle it." Black crystal was her antithesis, the opposite of everything she drew her powers from. Every movement was an effort as the black crystal ate at her energy.

Spenser fared much better despite his injuries, either because he knew dark magic or he was just so much more prepared to deal with pain.

But Carissa was not out of the fight. She had yet to call on the full strength of her magic. Or her backup plan. She took a deep breath and composed herself. She was a warrior and she had not come this far just to get beat down. She took a tactical measure of the room, or tried. She and the other Shield knights had faced down monsters hundreds of times and they had always come out on top, but her failure with Serafiel kept blocking her.

"Guys, I only have so many arrows," Jodan yelled from across the room.

"On me, Carissa!" Spenser called his sword, leapt out of cover and led the charge, Carissa right behind him. He aimed for a wing, sliding under and plunging his sword straight into the thin membrane. The wing ripped like a delicate dress.

Carissa followed up with her own attack. "Crystal colidum!"

Purple blades dug into the beast's matted fur and cut through the torn wing. It unleashed another mind-shattering shriek, writhing with pain. Slabs of black crystal loosened and came crushing from the ceiling.

"Protectio!"

Spenser conjured a shield over their heads, the crystal already cracking from the monster's scream. It shattered into a million pieces and it sent them flying into a bookshelf. The wood cracked underneath them. Carissa shouted when a splinter cut into her leg.

Blood welled under her stocking. She fumbled for the injury and pulled herself up. As long as she could stand and fight, she could deal with it later. She pulled the splinter out, crying. Her magic armlet was powerful enough to start the healing process and make the pain subside for a while.

They were positioned at the monster's rear. It was not able to fly around in such a small space and it moved slowly in its awkward bat body. Like any animal, it had superior senses and a natural instinct to kill them—which sucked for the three of them.

She drew on the full strength of her magic artifact and called the sacred words.

"Carissa, Princess of Calyx!"

She burned with lilac fire, her hair lengthening and turning a bright luminous violet. Her clothes changed from her fake uniform to her magical dress, her long princess trail fluttering behind her. Gods of Calyx, she felt fucking invincible. There was no pain, no tears, no fear.

The bat beast was blinded by Carissa's transformation, its fur and flesh burning, and an idea struck Spenser.

"Carissa, it's weak against light! That's why she covered the ceiling."

"Got it!"

"Don't do anything stupid—! Goddamnit, Carissa!"

Carissa ran headfirst and pelted the monster into submission with her brightest energy spells. "Crystal pila! Crystal offensio! Crystal colidum!"

She found her rhythm. She was untouchable like this, nearly unbeatable. The monster curled into a small ball in the corner like a wounded animal, trying to get away from Carissa.

Carissa raised her clubs about her head and her sigillum spun under her feet, readying for the grand finale. She was going to exorcise the monster into a white oblivion.

"Calyx!" she cried out as the gems on her clubs lit up.

"Spenser, stop her!" Jodan shouted from across the room. "If she does a crystal luxtra, the whole damn country is gonna know we're here!"

Seeing the archer take a stance pointed at Carissa, Spenser leapt to his feet and he pushed the girl to the ground. They tumbled, a mess of limbs and weapons. The knight did not want a repeat of Jodan planting arrows in a princess.

Immediately, Carissa's crystal luxtra died around them, energy dispersing in hot waves, and the girl squirmed under him.

"Spenser, get off me! What are you doing? The monster—"

"Crystal solvenda." Jodan changed his angle and charged his arrow with a spell. He shot straight up into the ceiling and arrow embedded itself into the obsidian.

A small hairline crack appeared, glowing orange, and it spread across the black circle. The whole ceiling shattered and shafts of light cut through into the room. Light fell on the monster and it screamed horribly. Smoke rose off its singed fur as it crawled to the shadows.

The room lit up with afternoon sunlight and the black crystal shattered into dust. The three of them watched the bat beast burn slowly.

Carissa threw Spenser off and rolled to her feet. "What was that for? I could have done that too," she spat out. Her voice had an extra magical oomph, still fully powered.

Jodan narrowed his gaze, unflinching. He had height and it was easy to look down on her. "Your spell would have told everybody where we are. The point of this secret mission is to be stealthy. There is literally an army of Gramorr's sorcerers within marching distance of us. An army means advance parties, and that means scouts. Remember?"

Carissa swallowed. Her eyes grew wider with every one of Jodan's works. Feeling her passion get doused with cold logic, she ran a hand through her hair and tried to reorient herself. She was still buzzing with energy. The crystal luxtra would have eaten up her magic and given her a cool down period. She let the power go and she started to feel light.

Outwitted, Carissa lowered her gaze. She was still buzzing with energy. The crystal luxtra would have eaten up her magic and given her a cool down period. She did not know any other spells similar to crystal luxtra. That in itself had taken years to master. She found herself reeling, bouncing from one emotion to another.

"What about the monster? What should we do?" she gritted out.

"Crystal florus," the Voltan suggested. "Do you know how to do that?"

"Crystal what?"

"Spenser get her out of here. I'll deal with the monster."

Carissa looked at the both of them. A wordless exchange happened between the boys and they both agreed to separate without including her in the conversation.

Spenser dragged Carissa out of the temple from the way they came. It was not until they got her outside and Spenser placed both hands on her shoulders to force her to sit down on a fallen column did all the emotions hit Carissa at once. Her powers waned out and she powered down.

Spenser tried to form words and failed.

Carissa tried too but nothing she could think would sound sincere. She had messed up big time, worst than all those times on Earth.

She had almost given away where Iris and the others were. She buried her face in her knees and tried to stifle her tears. Gods, what had she done? Consorting with the enemy?

Spenser stayed tightlipped and the silence was worse than the verbal lashing Carissa was expecting, even hoping for.

A few minutes later, Jodan came out of the temple, serious as ever.

"We have to get as far away from here as possible before that girl sends reinforcements to finish us off," Spenser said. He summoned Belphoebe.

Carissa swallowed as she held on to the saddle. She turned to Spenser. "I'm sor—"

"We're not discussing this here, Carissa." The tone was clearly shut up, don't talk, just hold on.

000000

It had been hours since Andrak.

The three had scaled down the back of the mountain, disappeared into the forest around the lake, going as far as Fenrir and Belphoebe could take them. By then, Jodan and Spenser were tired as well and looking for a decent place to hole up for the night. They were losing daylight and they had yet to see any sign of Gramorr's Army.

They walked for another hour until Carissa's legs gave up and she tripped, falling over. Her head was spinning, but she forced herself to push on.

Spenser was at her side instantly.

She did not say anything, scared of what other secrets she would divulge.

"Take a break."

"I'm fine!" Carissa whined. "Just keep going! I can keep up."

"Stop it, Carissa." He did not even flinch when she scowled at him. "You're not fine."

Jodan frowned at the both of them. "Let's set up camp over there. It's good enough for a lean-to and a cloaking spell. No fire tonight, though. Cold dinners all around. I'll take first watch."

Dinner was a shitty silent affair where Jodan did the most talking. He looked over everyone's injuries and made Spenser lie down to let the magic salves work and let his body sort itself out. After dinner, Spenser was out like a light and he slept so deeply he snored. Carissa read a page of Sun Tzu in the dying sunlight before falling asleep.

She was roused in the middle of the night by Jodan. The Voltan settled in her spot and closed his eyes. She used her shift as an opportunity to scarf down more food and relieve herself. Her leg was healing well. If she ate more food and concentrated, the flesh wound be gone in a day or two.

She checked the perimeter, walking wider and wider circles, getting lost in thought.

She wanted to think it was destiny that she had met Serafiel but then she remembered, just like Praxina, Serafiel was supposed to have a twin, a younger brother. Where was Zachariah?

Her panic skyrocketed when she sensed dark magic in the air.

Gramorr's. The miasma of unease, the all-consuming darkness…

She hid in the shadow of a tree and listened for anything out of place. She fumbled for her clubs and heard clothe rustling in the wind. She spotted sight of a familiar cut of clothe in the distance.

A dirty cape hung from a tree branch. It was covered in dust and leaves like it had been forgotten there for a few days. She waited, looking for signs of soldiers or scouts. When nothing happened, she eased out of her hiding place, approaching with cat-like steps.

The wind billowed and the cape danced, moonlight illuminating the green lining. She knew the pin dangling from one lapel. It was half of a set of pewter butterfly wings.

This was Mephisto's.