Chapter 1 - Vanished
Leda was pale. It was a perfect representation of her power-- listless and dull.
The whole of Cerilleum knew it, and ever since she was born it was ingrained into her that she was nothing compared to others.
But she felt it acutely standing on the train platform, looking down at the tracks. Valentina was gone. Vanished. Completely. And Leda had very little power to bring her back. Lord knows everyone had already tried, and if they couldn't do it, then she certainly couldn't.
The wind was sharp. Leda could hear the faint whistle of the train. Any minute now. Valentina would have heard this whistle. She would be standing, probably, where Leda stood now. Instead of Leda, of course. She was being summoned, and she knew exactly why, though no one told her. From what Valentina had said to her, Leda knew that Valentina was going to be given away.
"Going far?" A smooth, grainy voice sounded at her elbow. Leda turned slightly, but she knew who it was.
"I believe I'm only getting closer to what I want to be far from." She returned icily.
Her uncle only smiled to himself. Pyramus was also pale, but at least he proved to be a talented Warlock-- one that rivaled her fierce mother.
Mother.
The very thought of her made Leda bury her thumb and forefinger into her tear ducts. Pyramus seemed to have read Leda.
"It's not like you'll be stuck in a room with her."
"Seeing her once is too much," she whirled around, the ends of her long, white hair brushing against his fine coat.
"And then you won't have to see much of her after."
That was a grimmer thought: not the part about not seeing her mother, but what happens after.
The Tariels were the stuff of legends. Real legends, and Leda had a hard time imagining them as real warlocks that she would have to speak to.
"You're not at all afraid?" Pyramus bent his head toward his niece: her gaze had fallen on the farther tracks, deep in thought.
It was a silly question: Irena, Leda's mother, dealt with people like currency. What could be exchanged for a soldier or a daughter? It wasn't a strange or even cruel idea: Leda and Valentina were only shocked to find that not all parents were remotely comfortable with trading their children for something that they saw as more precious.
But didn't know what this was for. What could the Tariels have to give to Irena?
What Leda was afraid of was what made the Tariels legendary. She tried to sound casual, but her voice came out dry and tremulous:
"So long as they don't make me swallow molten gold."
Pyramus laughed softly.
"It wouldn't be within their diplomatic interests."
"It wouldn't?" Leda turned to him, her eyebrows lifted.
"See this as an alliance--"
"--it's a trade."
"Alliance."
"Once mother has what she wants, she won't care what the Tariels do to me."
"That's a dark light to cast on Irena's maternal affection," his last two words dripped with irony, but neither Leda nor Pyramus smiled.
"Regardless," Pyramus cleared his throat, "it would be scandalous to just torture you for fun."
Leda's mouth set into an annoyed line.
"I don't think scandal has ever stopped them."
"No," Pyramus admitted, considering his feet, "but it'd be a declaration of war."
"Not against mother--"
"-- against me." Pyramus gave her a hard look. "Don't think you don't have allies. Your mother isn't the only one doing this trade."
Before Leda could open her mouth to speak, the train rushed in, billowing steam at the feet.
