Being an orinian in Unity's capital city was a singular experience. While Maebhe gawped at the sights and sounds, the society gawped back. When she caught them, they asked if she spoke ellesian, if she needed directions anywhere. It was annoying, but not harmful. Not until recently, anyway. Something had changed.
Maybe she was just paranoid. She couldn't help it. Being alone in this cold city made her over-analyze and overthink, over-analyze and overthink again and again in a constant loop. When her companions were near, things were better, but she was a good sister — the best, really — so she'd cleared out of the hotel to give her brother and his fiancée time to themselves. That meant keeping herself entertained alone at the café next door. It had salty pastries and weak coffee, weaker than anything you'd find in Orean, but it also had a private patio that kept strangers' eyes off her tail and ears and birthmarks. Mostly.
She ripped her pasty in half and pretended to contemplate the flaky crust, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched two Gallontean police officers lounge against the café counter to whisper to the barista. Maebhe had seen them in the hotel lobby, too, when she'd left that morning.
Probably a coincidence. Surely, she was just paranoid.
She was trying to read the barista's lips with little luck when a man approached her table and blocked them from view. Ears flattening to her head in annoyance, Maebhe looked up, ready to tell him off.
"Oh," she said instead. "It's you again."
The man fidgeted with his bowler hat. He was less bloodied than he'd been when Maebhe saw him the night before, but the bruises left behind weren't pretty. Beneath them, he had a kind face — middle aged, Maebhe guessed, with a full salt-and-pepper mustache. "Yes," he said awkwardly. "Pardon the interruption."
"Don't even mention it," Maebhe said. "Is your face okay? You looked a mess last night. What happened?"
Self-consciously, the man touched the bruise under his eye. "It's kind of you to ask. I'm quite alright, I just had a small accident. A mugging. Fortunately, a kind soul stepped in to help."
"Shit," Maebhe said. "That's awful. I'm sorry I didn't ask last night, but you looked rather frightening and I was very drunk." As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them — this man was religious, wasn't he? That's what the obelisk on his watch chain meant? Maybe she should keep quiet about her pastimes.
"I understand completely," he said, surprising Maebhe. He fidgeted with his hat again. "Is this seat taken?"
"Oh! I guess not," Maebhe said, gesturing for him to sit. "I'm Maebhe, by the way. Please no 'Ms. Cairn' or anything like that, I can't abide it."
"Maebhe, then," the man said. "Informality for informality, I'm Gareth. I rent the rooms across from yours."
"I remember. You've got the cute kid."
"My daughter Ofelia," Gareth said with a smile that fell away quickly. "Maebhe...I'm sorry for bothering you if you're already aware of the issue, and I realize it's none of my business, but have you heard about Illyon?"
Maebhe tilted her head to one side. "Illyon? No, what did they do?"
"I was afraid you might say that," Gareth said, grimacing. He pulled a rolled-up newspaper out of his coat pocket and passed it to Maebhe. "You had better see this."
Maebhe had finished reading the big, blocky headline before she'd even fully unrolled the paper. "What," she said, voice falling flat. She looked up at Gareth, who only nodded at the paper for her to continue. In all caps, the headline read: AN ACT OF WAR? WHAT OREAN'S ATTACK ON ILLYON MEANS FOR THE TWO CITIES.
Maebhe cleared her throat, then read aloud: "Long-standing rivalries between Illyon and Orean came to a head last week when King Nochdvor of Alfheim was abducted by orinian soldiers. Several Illyon officials were killed in the altercation and parts of Illyon’s famous Hampstead Hall destroyed.’ Oh, gods." Maebhe glanced up at Gareth in horror before continuing. "It’s unclear how Alfheim will respond to the attack, but the King’s nephew Leandros reported the event to Unity and remains in the city for reasons yet unknown. You may remember Lord Nochdvor from his father’s scandal, blah, blah…" She skimmed the rest. "Many believe the kidnapping was an act of defiance against Unity — oh, please! As if we'd be so foolish!"
Her yelling drew the attention of several nearby patrons, as well as of the barista and the police officers. She leaned in and lowered her voice before continuing, "Do people actually believe this?"
Gareth hemmed, then hawed, then eventually said, "Well, everyone knows how the papers like to sensationalize. But this is rooted in some fact, I'm afraid. I've spoken to Lord Nochdvor myself on the matter."
Maebhe sat back in her chair, staring at her shredded pastry without really seeing it. "Fuck."
Gareth covered Maebhe's hand on the table and gave it a comforting pat. Maebhe resisted the urge to pull away. "I have hope there's some misunderstanding, but until it's sorted, it might be dangerous for you to remain in the city."
Maebhe's eyes widened. "What do you mean, dangerous? We didn't do anything! We've been here for a week. We couldn't have had anything to do with this!" she said, waving the paper around.
"I believe you, I really do," Gareth said. "But the unfortunate truth is that people aren't always reasonable or understanding, especially when they're afraid."
Maebhe groaned and massaged her temples. "I have to go tell Kieran and Íde. We'll need to pack, and...and buy new train tickets, I guess. Is it even safe for us to go back to Orean? Is Orean safe?"
"I can't say too much," Gareth hedged, "But I have some insight into Unity's side of things and I have full faith this will be handled peacefully. You should be quite alright to go home. But please, allow me to handle the tickets. You'll have your hands full with packing, and it's the least I can do."
Maebhe stopped massaging, instead watching Gareth with narrowed eyes. "You're being so kind. Why?"
"I’m only alive now because someone took the time to be kind to me, and because it’s the right thing to do," he said, his hand brushing again over his bruised eye. He followed Maebhe’s gaze over to the police officers at the counter. "Would you like me to escort you back to the hotel?"
Ears pressed flat to her head, Maebhe nodded and clutched the damning newspaper to her chest. "Please."
Before following Gareth out, she tied her jacket around her waist to hide her tail. She hoped she only imagined the way the cops pushed off from the counter as she walked past, as if to follow her out. With Gareth at her side, they didn't bother her, at least. She finally glanced back as they entered the elevator, but the cops were nowhere in sight.
"Here we are," Gareth said a minute later, stepping out onto their shared floor. "I'll have the concierge leave the tickets at the front desk for you. Safe journeys, if we don't speak again, but if there's anything else I can do for you, I'm just across the hall."
"Thank you," Maebhe said. She stayed put until Gareth was back in his rooms, then threw the door to her own open hard enough that it struck the wall with a bang. Halfway down the hall, she remembered why she'd left her companions alone and flung an arm over her eyes, calling, "Are you decent? Can I come in?"
Maebhe heard a soft huff of laughter and the distinct sound of a page turning. "Knocking works just as well, you know," her brother called in answer. Not quite trusting that answer, Maebhe felt along the wall with her eyes still covered until she reached the point where the hall opened up into the sitting room. There, cautiously, she lowered her arm and found Kieran sitting at the table, his feet up and his fiancée nowhere in sight.
"Íde wouldn't like you sitting like that," Maebhe said.
"She's napping," Kieran said, not looking up from his book.
Maebhe shoved Kieran’s boots off the tabletop, making him lurch forward to catch his balance. At that, he finally looked at her, his ear giving an annoyed flick. "Maebhe, what?"
In answer, Maebhe threw the newspaper at his face. "Read this, then come and find me," she said. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed past him, past the hotel’s tacky velvet furniture and striped wallpaper, not stopping until she’d reached the wide balcony off the dining room.
She stepped into the chilly seaside air, her arms hugged close to her body and Gallontea laid out beneath her. Not for the first time, it struck her how alien the buildings here were, tall and new and strange. From here, she could see over them to the gray outline of Unity's island. Its silhouette reached like a gnarly, clawed hand into the sky, the clock tower a finger pointing toward the heavens.
She'd known she hated this place the moment she laid eyes on that island. They'd toured it, their first full day here, and it reminded Maebhe that orinians and Unity just didn't mix. Every orinian grew up being warned about Unity. Every orinian knew how Unity felt about them. It was a grudge that dated all the way back to the Great War: when Runderath the Mighty slayed Tellaos and the goddess Ellaes came forward to create Unity, Orean had refused to join, instead embracing independence. It had been centuries since then, but like a spurned lover, Unity had never forgiven the snub. It had been risky to come here on holiday, and now they were paying the price.
A few minutes later, Maebhe heard the door open behind her. She said into the fog, "The hotel probably won’t give us a refund."
Kieran stepped out to join her. He looked pale, the thick brown birthmarks that swirled across his face bringing his pallor into sharper contrast. The birthmarks were the birthright of anyone with orinian blood, something that, according to old superstitions, reflected an orinian's soul. Maebhe had always thought that was horseshit, but that hadn't stopped her from wondering what her and her brother's said about them — they bore identical marks, after all, reversed like a mirror image. Kieran's swept down the left half of his face like fractal scars left by a lightning strike, and Maebhe's swept down the right.
Many things about Maebhe and Kieran were identical, unsurprising for a pair of identical twins. They shared the same wavy blond hair, the same ochre skin beneath brown birthmarks, the same wiry frames and round, gray eyes. The only difference was that Maebhe was sharper around the face, Kieran softer.
"Alfheim wants to go to war and that’s all you have to say?" Kieran asked.
Maebhe frowned at the silhouette of the clock tower, wrinkling her nose when she felt the sting of oncoming tears. She blinked them back. "Selfish, isn’t it?"
Beside her, Kieran sniffed. "If you're selfish, then so am I. I just keep wishing we'd gotten to see more of the city."
"I think we're allowed to be selfish, considering," Maebhe said. She turned to her twin and punched his arm. "But this is all your fault, you know."
"Ow! What? How?"
"I wanted to go to the coast! You were the one who insisted on Gallontea, and now we're caught up in this mess!"
"Sorry, I'll make sure no one's planning any royal kidnappings before I suggest future vacation spots," Kieran said dryly. "But maybe it's your fault for losing the coin flip, Mae."
"If you want to go there, it's Íde's fault for suggesting the coin flip."
Kieran almost smiled. "Fine. Truce. This is all Íde's fault."
Maebhe snorted. "I’m telling her you said that."
"Then I’m telling her you spilled her expensive face cream."
"She said I could try it!" Maebhe hissed, glancing nervously at the door as if Íde might be there, listening. Then, returning to the earlier topic, she asked, "Do you think Orean's being framed?"
"Maybe. Either way, we need to get back and warn everyone. I already woke Íde — she's inside packing."
"I’m almost finished," Íde said from behind them, popping her head out the door. Though her hair was pulled up into its usual bun, she’d clearly risen from her nap in a hurry, long strands coming loose. Íde’s birthmarks were thinner, lighter than Maebhe and Kieran’s, barely visible against the planes of her face. From a distance, the silver-patterned marks looked more like old scars than anything else. "We’re lucky you checked the paper, Maebhe."
"I didn’t, actually," Maebhe said. "The man across the hall warned me. He’s getting us train tickets, too."
Kieran made a face. "The Unity fellow?"
"Is he?" Maebhe asked.
"He works for them, I think. Or something. I’m not sure quite what he does, actually." Kieran thought for a moment longer, then shrugged. "At any rate, we should get him a card."
"That sounds like something we can discuss once we’re out of Gallontea," Íde said, using the same patient-but-pointed voice that she used on her young students. "Kieran, can I get your help inside? I can’t get your suitcase off the shelf."
"Yes, of course," Kieran said. He ruffled Maebhe’s hair as he passed. "Join us inside whenever you’re ready, Mae."
Within an hour, the trio crammed themselves and their suitcases into the hotel’s small elevator, on their way out of the hotel and out of Gallontea. While stuffing her suitcase, Maebhe had cycled through emotions, finally settling on relief – relief to be going, relief that they’d soon leave Gallontea behind. Beside her, though, Íde’s tail whipped anxiously back and forth, hitting Maebhe’s leg occasionally in the cramped space.
"Everything will be alright, won’t it?" she finally asked.
Kieran and Maebhe shared a look over her head. In unison, they said, "Probably."
"It drives me crazy when you two do that," Íde grumbled. "Even your tones matched."
Maebhe snickered. "Gareth said it's probably a misunderstanding."
"Oh, I hope so."
Finally, the elevator lurched to a stop on the ground floor. Maebhe opened the cage door for her companions and followed them out, but as she did, the loose wheel on her old hand-me-down suitcase got stuck in the gap between the elevator and the floor. She turned to try to tug it free, then crouched to finesse it when it got stuck. Behind her, Kieran tapped his foot impatiently.
"Maebhe," he sighed.
"Don’t rush me! If I don’t fix this thing now, it’ll fall off halfway down the street," she said, trying to tighten the wheel’s loose screws with the pads of her fingers. Kieran and Íde gave up, proceeding to the front desk without her. Maebhe switched to using her fingernail, trying to tighten the screws while her long hair fell into her face.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle blew, making Maebhe jump.
She'd forgotten about the cops from the café, but when she looked up, she found herself in a room full of uniforms. They clustered around the front desk — around Kieran and Íde. As they put handcuffs around his wrists, Kieran met Maebhe's gaze across the lobby and yelled, "Run, Maebhe!"
Only one officer stood near her; the others hadn't noticed her yet, though Kieran's should had them turning in her direction. Maebhe acted without thinking: she wound her arm back and punched the nearby officer in the face, feeling his nose crack beneath her hand. While he reeled, she lunged for the elevator, abandoning her suitcase, abandoning her jacket. Abandoning her brother. She slammed the cage door behind her, hit the button for the top floor without thinking. As it lurched into motion, heading up and up, the last thing she saw through the bars on the door was a swarm of officers rushing her way.
"Oh, gods," she gasped as the elevator continued to climb. It felt even smaller than before, the walls pressing in while she took heaving breaths. When the elevator stopped, she stumbled out into the narrow hall, but she knew it was a dead end. All she could do was barricade herself in her suite. The only other way down was the stairs, which by now must have been full of officers on their way up. Actually, there was one other option. She banged on the door to Gareth’s rooms, continuing until it finally swung open. Before Gareth could say a word, Maebhe ducked under his arm into the hallway, shutting the door firmly behind them both and bolting it.
"Ms. Maebhe, what—?"
"The police," Maebhe panted, knowing how she must look – wild, panicked. "They arrested Kieran and Íde. We were trying to check out and they – they – we didn’t even do anything! We were trying to leave!"
Gareth’s eyes widened to match her own. "There must be some mistake. I’m sure we can reason with the officers and explain the situation."
Maebhe laughed. It sounded manic even to her own ears. "Are you joking? My people warned me about Gallontea’s police before we even left Orean. They’re not known for being reasonable, especially not to outsiders. And Unity hates us. This is probably just what they wanted."
"I don’t know about all that," Gareth said, his thick eyebrows pulling together. "But I can go and talk to them, if you’d feel safer here. I have some small pull here in Gallontea; they might listen to me."
"It’s worth a try," Maebhe said, even as she inched away from the door.
"We’ll figure this out, Ms. Maebhe. Please, try to make yourself comfortable while I’m gone. If you go ask the maid, she’ll make you tea to steady your nerves."
"Tea," Maebhe said flatly. "Okay."
"I’ll be back in no time," Gareth said, a final promise before leaving. Maebhe listened at the door and heard voices on the distant landing, then the sound of boots heading down stairs. They weren’t coming closer, at least, so she allowed herself a look around. She was in a short reception hall, almost identical to the one in her suite but reversed. Her gaze fell on an envelope sitting on the able – it was addressed to a Mr. Gareth Ranulf and had been marked with Unity’s seal.
Ranulf. Maebhe knew the name – one of the Magistrates was a Ranulf, wasn’t he? "Gods help me," Maebhe murmured. She couldn’t look away from the envelope.
He did more than just work for Unity. He was Unity, one of the damned Magistrates. It explained how he knew so much, how he’d "spoken to Lord Nochdvor" on the subject of the king’s kidnapping. Had his timely warning even been a warning, or had he known that giving Maebhe the newspaper would flush them out of their rooms, making them easier to arrest? Had he really bought them train tickets, or was he cutting off their means of escape? Had he given the orders to have them arrested?
Maebhe couldn’t stay here.
She hurried through the suite, following a familiar path to the balcony, though this time she hid briefly to avoid the Ranulfs’ maid. Once the way was clear, she stepped back out into the open and eased the door shut behind her, then crept to the balcony edge and looked down at the street. Several police carriages blocked the building’s front entrance, and there, in the middle of the mess, were Kieran and Íde. Two officers were leading them to the carriages, Gareth trailing behind them. Props to him — from Maebhe’s viewpoint, he made a good show of arguing with the officer.
As Kieran was guided into the backseat of a carriage, he happened to glance up. Maebhe waved, and she watched her brother’s eyes widen in surprise. "I’ll save you," Maebhe mouthed desperately, but then Kieran was out of sight, Íde being guided in right behind him. Maebhe had no idea if he’d understood her, if he’d even seen.
Well, either way, it wouldn’t change her mission.
She steeled herself and kicked off her shoes, then clambered onto the balcony rail, wrapping her tail around it for extra balance, using it to keep herself steady. Slowly, she sank into a crouch. She couldn’t think about the street behind her, how badly it would hurt to fall. She tensed, reinforcing her balance by wiggling like a cat about to pounce, then jumped to the narrow awning above the balcony door. It made a loud clanging noise when her body hit it and, on the street below, things went quiet. Before anyone could notice her half-hanging, legs dangling, she hauled herself up, onto the awning and out of sight from the street.
Even if they did see her, even if they managed to make it up to Gareth’s suite before she was gone, she doubted they’d follow. She doubted they could. Unless they had a dragon with them, they couldn’t keep up — no Gallonteans could climb, run, or jump like an orinian. While orinians were technically human, they had adaptations Unity humans didn’t, leftover from a time when the only escape from the large predators that roamed their valley was up into the trees, into the mountains. They had extra muscles in their legs to make jumping easier, extra joints in their feet to make climbing faster. And Maebhe, who spent all her time hunting, climbing, exploring, who used these extra adaptations every day if she could help it, had no difficulty climbing the hotel’s trellised wall and reaching the roof before the officers even thought to look up. She hauled herself onto the shingled surface and paused to catch her breath, peering over the edge just in time to see the carriages drive off, leaving Gareth Ranulf alone in the street.
The reality of the situation slammed into her. She felt like she’d fallen, earlier, hit the ground and broke bones. She covered her mouth to keep in a sob. Below, the carriages wheeled away one by one, so Maebhe bit back the heartache and launched into motions as well. She followed them from the rooftops with all the agility of a proud orinian, always keeping her eyes on the carriages as she leaped from building to building. Once or twice, she nearly slipped on dewy tiles. Though she always caught herself, she collected scrapes and bruises as she ran.
Eventually, her path was blocked by a building — one too tall to jump to, too uneven to run across. Casting her eyes around the sides of the squat building she currently stood on, she spotted a fire escape and scrambled down it. From there, she continued her pursuit, nearly losing sight of Kieran’s carriage thanks to the delay. She pushed past shoppers and jumped over a stroller, only to skid to a sudden stop when she realized where this road led.
She watched, helplessly, as the carriage carrying Kieran and Íde pressed on to Unity’s island, and the realization that she was alone in an enemy city loomed all around her.
Thanks for reading! What do you think of the twins? Do you think Maebhe will be able to get her brother back?
This email is a part of Fractured Magic, a gothic fantasy webserial. At emrowene.com, you can find a character guide and gallery, a full list of content warnings, and other works by the author. Supporting the story on Patreon will give you early access to chapters plus character art and exclusive content.
I did enjoy the twins's banter.