There was a rumor that even before I was born, my sisters bestowed longevity upon two kings. This was also one of our powers but no one knew back then that you had to keep this information a secret, otherwise it would become the thing thatd destroy us. And thats exactly what happened.
We are not immortal and our mission is dangerous, so a lot of sisters died in the process of cleansing the world from evil. And even if a Mara manages to live a full life, it will only be one and a half times that of a regular persons lifespan. Before, there was a balance, there were always seven Maras. If one Mara died, another ten-year-old girl would be marked by Morana.
But now Im the only one left and I cant see any point in doing people good in return for the evil they have caused us. But first things first, I need to free myself from these ties with Morok, which means Ill have to behave myself for a while. And in the end, Im also curious why they risked so much to revive me. Somehow, I dont think they did it just to get rid of a ghoul.
I throw back the hood and sniff the air trying to smell the ghoul. Hes sleeping in the shadow of the fir trees, waiting for dusk, when the sunlight wont disturb him anymore. The stench of rotting flesh is easy to distinguish from the fresh fragrance of the woods and the smell of damp soil.
Prince Daniel wants a show, so why not.
And I strike up a song, a quiet ritual prayer set to music. My lips break into an involuntary smile when I hear the prince and his soldiers let out a collective sigh of admiration. Its not only Maras faces that are beautiful, our voices, too. We need these to summon the evil spirits, which come running as if hypnotized. It makes hunting easier but theres also a side effect
I notice that Morok has got it all. Hes admiring neither the voice nor the tune, instead he unfolds his arms and starts walking towards me with an intensity that wasnt there before. But I raise my hand and surprisingly, he freezes, probably deciding to give me a chance.
To be honest, Im taking a huge risk. Maras only used to attempt a summoning song if at least three sisters had their back. But my own death made me somewhat reckless.
I keep singing for another few minutes. The sound vibrates in my chest, my lungs fill with oxygen and sounds are being pieced together in familiar words as if on their own.
I can feel them waking up. Just as I anticipated, the ghoul is not the only spirit that can hear me. I can feel a low hum spreading through the earth and vibrating in my legs. The birds fall silent terrified by the creatures that are hijacking their home. I finish the song and cast away my cloak, which would only constrict my movements. Under the cloak, Im wearing plain black trousers, a simple shirt and a buttoned-up caftan in a shade of burgundy. None of it is going to protect me from a blade, nor fangs or claws, but at least I can move quickly. I tighten my grasp on the sword and the dagger, my spine prickling with the anticipation of the on-lookers behind me. I breathe out and start counting to myself, sensing each of their steps.
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Dear Agatha the prince starts, hes already tired of waiting.
Twenty-three
Are you going into the woods or do you need some help with that? Hes almost sneering.
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
The first one springs out of the woods earlier than I expect. A foul creature, which looks more like a demon than a human being, but of course hes neither. He has thin arms and legs with long, deadly claws, greyish skin with an obnoxious green tint is wrapped tightly around his bones, and the mouth is filled with razor-sharp fangs. I block his way when hes trying to dart towards the soldiers. I dodge his claws diving under his outstretched arm and thrust the sword from behind between his neck and his shoulder. The sword enters his body and I hear the revolting sound of his skin being ripped apart and his collarbone being shattered. The creature trips and falls down in a heap. Everything happens so fast that no one lets out so much as a squeak. But I can see the princes face turn white when he glimpses the wrinkled skin of the ghoul, now lying prone in the withered grass. Its an old ghoul whos been treading the earth for a long time and his shriveled skin and rare patches of shaggy hair look sickening. I lean in to finish the job and to show them some real magic. To thrust a sword into the creature is no big deal, anyone from those standing around me could do that. I touch the ghouls neck lightly with the tips of my fingers and grasp them, sparkling, iridescent, pale golden threads stretching along his spine. Threads of life.
This is our special power. We see these threads of life and can either strengthen them or if we want to, sever them. There should be three of them but the spirits have only one or two left, the others already torn. This ghoul still has two whole ones. I straighten up, holding the glittering threads in my fist, like a trophy, and stretch them as far as possible so that common people can see them too. And then, locking eyes with the prince, who doesnt even try to hide his admiration, I tear them by jerking my hand upward. The ghouls body shudders and becomes still, now for good, and the threads disappear.
My palm is sore, there are two deep cuts where the threads cut into it. But theres almost no blood as my heart doesnt work, it doesnt pump that red liquid through my veins anymore. I hide the cuts by balling my hand into a fist. I should have just cut the threads with a dagger like we always did before. But I put on a show in front of Prince Daniel on purpose, so that he knows that, if need be, I can cut off his life threads just as easily. Id hoped he would be terrified, but theres a glint of keen interest in his eyes and an almost happy smile lights up his face. The smile of a person whos found a diamond instead of a quartz. But I dont have much time to dwell on the thought as another ghoul jumps out of the woods. I turn to him now only clenching the dagger in my hand and wait for him to attack me. But the creature ignores me and makes a quick about-turn. I have just enough time to swing around and throw my dagger into his head before he jumps at the prince. The ghoul collapses right at Daniels feet.
Ill give him that, the prince doesnt pass out. Just takes a few steps back. Theres no trace of a smile on his face anymore.
Oh, my Goddess I sigh, realizing my mistake.
I exchange quick glances with Morok. I cant see his face or guess at his emotions but I have a feeling we are thinking about one and the same thing. I had expected all the spirits to attack only me but forgot that Im a walking corpse myself. The creatures are attracted to warm blood. I run up to the second ghoul, pull out the dagger and cut off the threads before he can get up again.
Should I be worried, Agatha? the prince asks with some tension in his voice.
Of course not, Your Highness! I lie. Or would you like to swap the first row for the last?
He doesnt have time to retort as there are new creatures rushing out of the woods. Though its only one ghoul and three ghosts. The latter are easier to deal with. I guess these are the souls of people the ghouls have dragged into their dens. But what surprises me is Moroks behavior, he steps forward and puts some distance between himself and the prince so that the spirits see him first and Daniel later. He probably could finish off these four spirits with his bare hands but instead he turns to me and nods, waiting for me to protect him? Or is he actually helping me by letting me deal with those on my own?
Maybe he has a fraction of sympathy for me, a Mara who has to prove her usefulness to the royal offspring so that he doesnt think hes revived her in vain.
My guess proves true when I see that the creatures dash to Morok and he doesnt even turn to them, just keeps staring at me. If he werent that dangerous and terrifying, I would yell at him calling him every single, filthy swear word I know, but I only have time to rush to him to catch the first ghost stretching his long fingers out to Morok. The ghosts are easier to deal with because their bodies are not made of flesh and blood, instead they seem to be created from something soft, like concentrated energy. They dont leave physical wounds but one touch of their fingers is enough to make you go mad. Their powers are useless against Maras though, so I stick my dagger-holding hand inside the ghosts body and cut the threads stretched along the spine.
I hold my breath so as not to smell the stink, but the slime on my dagger hand and the revolting sight of it all catches up with me and I start feeling nauseous. The ghost vanishes at the exact moment when the ghoul jumps at Morok and I recklessly throw myself in front of him to protect him with my own body. I dont allow myself to let out a scream, only a hiss, when the ghoul sinks his fangs into my shoulder and they pierce through it, shattering a bone. Id hoped I wouldnt feel the pain, but hell I was wrong. The pain is almost as acute as if I were alive. The ghoul drives his claws into my other shoulder and clings to me like an enormous leech. His repulsiveness sparks a fury deep inside and I tear him off me, widening my own wounds in the process and exacerbating the pain. As soon as hes on the ground, I kick it hard and thrust the knife into its neck. It takes me far less time to deal with the other two ghosts. I make sure I cut the threads each time. The ghosts vanish right away but the ghouls, or rather the heaps of bones and flesh that are all that remain of them, are left behind spreading their putrid smell.
I come to a halt and try to catch my breath. I suppose thats it for today. Theres no one else crawling out of the woods. I take stock of the damage: torn clothes, lacerated wounds that expose injured muscles. Theres more blood than on my palm but no real bleeding. However, the pain is still throbbing and my arms start to go numb. Morok is gazing at my wounds with such indifference, that I cant help shooting him a dirty look.
That was fabulous! To kill so many, all by yourself! Prince Daniel is grinning at me, almost ready to applaud.
I have to fight the urge to stick his own dagger into his stupid, hazel eye and wipe that charming smile off his face. But instead, I stretch out my hand, returning his weapon. Captain Dariy comes running with his soldiers in his wake, to check on the prince.
Burn the corpses, I give the order to the Captain and he passes it on to his soldiers.
Daniel accepts my red cloak from one of the soldiers and stepping behind me gently throws it over my shoulders, covering my gruesome wounds.
It hurts, I almost whisper.
Can it hurt? the prince asks Morok with surprise in his voice.
Yes, but the wounds will heal in a few days. Moroks voice is as low and flat as usual, with zero emotion.
But Im dead my body cant heal
Morok turns back to me and I instantly regret saying anything.
Our connection. You will be healed with the help of my powers. The same ones that make you walk and babble right now.
I bite my tongue and wince in pain. Id love to ask when the wounds will stop hurting but I dont dare try his patience.
Are you satisfied with the performance, Your Highness? I do my best to keep the contempt out of my voice.
More than satisfied, my dear Agatha! He gently wraps my hand with both of his. Now, its about time we cleaned you up and introduced you to my father.
2
220 years ago
How lucky!
The family is blessed!
Marked twice!
The villagers are whispering to each other, huddled together around the house where six Maras, their scarlet cloaks standing out against the snow, are gathered to meet their new sister. And I am among them.
Thats because one of us died of old age last week. And as soon as she let out her last breath, we all felt that a new sister was born, the one who is to take her place. And it is the first time Im welcoming a new member to the family.
We are already a few days into the first winter month but snow has taken its sweet time this year. The landscape stayed grey and brownish with rotten leaves and sticky mud covering the earth, the legacy of frequent rains, for what seemed like an eternity. But no sooner than we set off on our journey, what does it do? Start snowing heavily, all day and all night, blanketing the ground and slowing us down.
When we finally arrive at the village, it is after midday. The sky is a dazzling blue, the sun is high and its rays are reflected off the painfully white shroud of snow. The villagers freeze when we brush past them in our scarlet cloaks and the ground is crunching under our boots. Im thirteen and till now I have been the youngest sister.
I became a Mara three years ago, a week after I turned ten. It happened the same way it does to all of us. Only ten-year-old girls with jet-black hair can discover these powers.
Are you happy, Agatha? asks Irina, whose hand Im clinging to.
Irina is my mentor. It is she who is responsible for my training. She must be around seventy years old but looks no more than thirty. Maras live longer than ordinary people. Up to nineteen, we grow just like everybody else and then our aging process slows down significantly. Or so I was told. Thats why even the oldest of us, who has turned one hundred twenty-three years, looks about fifty.
Irina, like other Maras, has long black hair, a beautiful face and a pleasant smile.
Im nervous, I mumble. Do you know who she is?
No.
And when you came to take me, you didnt know either?
We didnt. You feel that invisible thread we all feel it as if shes summoning us, I nod and she smiles at me. So, we follow the thread till we find her, our new sister.
Why is everyone whispering? I mutter again, looking around me.
Ive hated being the center of other peoples attention since I was little, but now thanks to my garments and my powers, everyone notices me, wherever I go.
Who knows they might have an idea about who the new sister is, says my mentor, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.
We arrive last, the other sisters are already gathered in front of the house. We are not going to enter though; everyone knows why we are here. At this very moment the parents of our new sister must be wrapping her in warm clothes and packing some food for her journey and saying their goodbyes. They must be doing the same things my parents did a few years ago. Ive never seen them since.
Even if Id wanted to, I wouldnt be able to see them because they left our village. Thats another rule. After a girl is taken by Maras, the family must leave. It keeps newly marked Maras from running back to their parents home in the first few years of living in the temple, before they get accustomed to their new family.
You cant run to your parents if you dont know where to run.
The villagers, too, start gathering around the house. They stand behind us, buzzing with anticipation, casting occasional glances at the closed door. Some people are wondering out loud how beautiful the girl is going to be. Everyone knows shes going to have a fair complexion and jet-black hair, matching Moranas. But all Maras have different eye-colors, so therere no rules here. The Goddess herself is said to have dark-brown eyes, almost black. Irina has hazel eyes and Kira brilliant green, like dewy grass on a summer morning. My eyes are blue, as cold as ice so my mom used to say. Like beautiful half-transparent ice.