It all started with a dream of an angel outside her window and a cough when she woke up. But it did not end in that. In two days, Livia was too weak to play outside with her dolls and too sick to eat even cake for breakfast.
Too sick to eat anything.
Doctors came and went while nurses watched over her until her room looked like a hospital ward. They listened to her cough with their stethoscopes that felt cold against her skin. They peered inside her swollen throat while nodding to each other and stroking their beards. Then they prescribed her different kinds of medicines that all tasted bitter and foul. They tasted like death.
She forced herself to drink them all the same.
No matter what it took, she would get well again. She would play outside with her dolls. She would eat cake again. So, when her parents and doctors told her to be patient, she believed them. Anything to get better again.
She did not get better.
Whatever was eating away at her just swallowed up all the medicine she was taking. When it had devoured the medicine, the sickness started eating away at her again until all the flesh had melted away from her bones and her once pretty face was just a skull wrapped tightly in leather. Her dark hair lost all its color and at eleven years old, her hair was thin as a baby’s and white as dirty snow. Even her eyes had changed. Two dark orbs surrounded by shadows. Like the windows of a haunted house where ghosts were staring out.
With tears in her eyes, she begged all the mirrors be taken from her room.
When the news of her getting sick had broken out, the other noble houses had sent their children to cheer her up and wish her well. There was Cassio from House Rossi. Big and strong as a lion but also scary, cold and distant. She had always preferred the bookish Prospero from House Ferro to him and the shy Giuliani from House Neri. They would sit around her bed with her big brother Viktor and play boardgames with her until she became too tired to keep going.
As her sickness progressed, people stopped coming.
Prospero lasted the longest but eventually he was forbidden from approaching her out of fear that the heir of House Ferro would fall ill. The ones who dared to enter where her parents, but they flinched when she tried to touch them and covered their mouths on instinct when she coughed. Worse than the pain in her chest was the realization that they were afraid of her. Sometimes the doctors would venture in too, but she could see now they were just waiting for her to die. She was a lost cause to them, and they were just milking her parent for money.
The only one she had left was her brother.
Viktor was two years older and had always been her brave big brother. He had never hesitated to jump at her defense even if it meant arguing with their father and mother. He never looked more gallant than when he was practicing swordsman- and marksmanship on the yard. He was even strong enough to make Cassio stumble in the boxing ring… and Cassio had avenged himself by cutting her brother’s face open with a single cruel strike. Viktor still had a scar on his forehead that split his eyebrow. Every day without a failure Viktor would come to her room to play bord games with her or if she was too tired, read for her.
Livia’s favorite stories were about war.
Most evenings Livia spent listening to her brother read her the story of how Garuccia was founded. How a thousand years ago the land of men and fae had been one and ruled by the cruel dragon Girusai. Until King Eld, the first king of men, had risen to oppose him. Girusai had been killed King Eld and the Wyrd King had signed the Pact of Kings which divided the world between humans and fae. The Wyrd Stones would mark the borders of their domains. But there was one story she liked even more.
How House Grimaldi had won their lands from the treacherous House Poe.
She was a scion of House Grimaldi who had been tasked with defending the Star Steps. One of the few roads that ran through the Teeth that separated Garuccia and Osetaria, the eternal enemy of their country. Before them the duty had been House Poe’s and from their ancestral home, Starfort, they had upheld their duties for centuries. But when Baron Karloff von Stradheim had ridden out of Osetaria to wage war on Garuccia and the Wyrd King, House Poe had taken up arms in the Baron’s army because of the traitor Firebird. Once the Baron had been a mortal man but that had changed when he ventured deep into the darkest caves of the Wyrding and returned as a vampire. The greatest threat the world had ever seen since the dragon Girusai.
“He rode into battle on the back of the tiger queen and commanded the storms.” Viktor read: “Not even the Green Knight, the greatest of the Wyrd King’s champions could match him. The Green Knight rode to face him on the back of the wolf queen and the Baron cut off his sword hand and knocked down the wolf queen.”
Livia licked her cracked lips when Viktor turned the page.
“All seemed lost until the son of the Green Knight and the wolf queen picked up his father’s sword and jumped to defend his parents. The wolf prince matched the vampire king blow for blow and bought enough time to save his parents.”
After the war, House Poe had been dismantled and been given to lord Grimaldi who had married the traitor ser Orion Poe’s younger sister.
When they were done for the night and Viktor was about to leave, Livia had questions.
“… the Green Knight… how could he have babies with a wolf?”
Viktor rubbed the scar that ran over his eyebrow.
“The wolf queen was a skin-changer.”
“… what is a skin-changer?” Livia asked.
“Monsters that eat people but when they eat you, they don’t just eat your flesh but your shape and memories as well. They know everything you do and can look like you.” Viktor said.
“… if they’d look like me… and know everything I do… wouldn’t that just make them… me?” Livia asked.
Viktor had no answer and left her to rest.
Her sleep was pained and erratic and, on most mornings, she woke up more tired than she had been when falling asleep. Even then she kept on believing that she would get better. That her sickness would pass, and she would one day play outside again and eat cake.
She kept believing it until one night Grandfather Death walked into her room.
Starfort had been built to protect Garuccia from Osetaria and withstand their enemy’s full miliary might. The castle had ever fallen or breached but even then, it could not keep out death. Grandfather Death was a tall figure clad in sacred, warm darkness, carrying a sack that could hold the final breath of the world. He moved without a sound. Through locked doors. Through walls. Through floors. Unseen by all but Livia.
“Good evening, Livia de Grimaldi. Do you know who I am?” Grandfather Death asked.
Livia had always thought she would be afraid when she met him, but his voice was old and gentle. Like every child’s favorite grandpa.
“… yes.” Livia said and dared to look into his bottomless eyes: “… I’m going to die soon, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I am sorry for that.”
Even though she wasn’t scared, tears began filling her eyes.
“… I don’t want to die.”
“I know.”
Livia began to cry and hugged Grandfather Death.
“… will you stay with me?” Livia asked.
Grandfather Death wrapped his bony arms around her.
“Until the end.”
That night for the first time in weeks, Livia was able to sleep peacefully and when she woke up, Grandfather Death was napping in the corner in an armchair. When the nurses came in check up on her, they passed Grandfather Death by without notice and Livia wondered if they were so used to seeing death that his presence was not even worth commenting on or if only, she could see him.
Soon Grandfather Death wasn’t the only strange thing she saw.
One day Prospero came to visit her, and he arrived with two old women whose faces were hidden under hoods. They were so small at first Livia thought they were children, but they moved like old women. Spry, old women but old women all the same. What little details she could catch from their features under the hoods… she could have sworn they were no human women. Viktor came with Prospero and Livia could feel how uneasy these small, ancient women made him.
“Hello, precious.” Prospero said when he entered: “I would like you to meet a friend of mine.”
Prospero had changed since the last time she had seen him. He seemed… firmer. Stronger. His skin was also tanned like a commoner’s. Like he had travelled half away across the world.
“Perry, please make this quick. If father finds us…” Viktor said.
“I am doing the best I can.” Prospero said and walked over to her bed: “Livia, I would like you to meet a friend of mine. Her name is Strong Heron.”
One of the old women walked over to her and threw back her hood. The breath was caught in Livia’s throat when she saw her face. Her skin was green and her ears long and pointed. Her hair was grey with a few black stripes in it… and bones had been tied in it. There was a sternness to her. Something immovable. A person like that would break others before being broken herself.
“Hello, Livia.” Strong Heron said: “I brought a friend too. Her name is Old Badger. I hope she can help you.”
The other old woman threw back her hood… and gave Grandfather Death a polite nod that he returned. Old Badger was a very different creature from Strong Heron. She seemed… nice. Gentle. Wise. Like someone who had experience enough world to make sense of the madness. Her eyes were brown and warm.
“Blessing of the Quiet upon you, Livia.” Old Badger said.
Livia stared at Old Badger dumbfounded and could only nod.
“… hi.” Livia said.
“What she is trying to say is; blessing of Garuccia upon you, Old Badger.” Prospero said.
Old Badger just smiled.
“No need to play the diplomat, young man.” Old Badger said and put a paw on Livia’s cheek: “Now… let’s have a look at you.”
When Livia’s eyes met Old Badger’s… she fell into them. Her mind opened before Old Badger and Old Badger regarded her with infinite kindness devoid of judgement. They looked at each other for a long time before Old Badger looked away.
“You are a very brave girl.” Old Badger said.
“Can you help her?” Strong Heron said.
Old Badger was quiet for a moment and then shook her head.
“I am sorry.”
Viktor took a sharp breath and then slammed his fist against the wall.
“This is… this is…”
Viktor started breathing heavily and then started to cry.
“This is bullshit! She is ten years old! No is supposed to die at that age!” Viktor said and pointed an accusing finger at Old Badger: “You lied to me! You were supposed to be a miracle worker! You’re the wife of a god! Save her! Stop fucking with me and save her! I know you can! Save her or I swear…!”
Prospero stepped between Viktor and Old Badger… and then embraced her brother.
“Let it go, Vic.” Prospero said.
“… you… you promised… you promised that… why can’t anyone help her…? … why…?”
Old Badger and Strong Heron shared a look that could fit an entire conversation. A conversation that made Strong Heron bow her head.
“Lord Ferro, could I have a moment with my patient?” Old Badger said.
“Of course, Grandmother.” Prospero said and patted Viktor’s back: “Come on, Vic. Let’s give them a moment.”
Viktor kept crying while Prospero led them away and Strong Heron closed the door behind them. Old Heron sighed when they were alone and sat by her bed.
“Mind if I smoke?” Old Badger asked.
Livia just nodded and Old Badger began stuffing her pipe. She sat numbly on her bed and stared at her withered hands.
“… I don’t want to die so… why won’t you save me?” Livia asked.
Livia could see Old Badger’s heart break when she heard her question.
“Livia… I would give you all the years I have left in me if I could but… whatever is wrong with you… it is beyond my abilities.” Old Badger said while smoking her pipe.
“… my father is rich… whatever you want… he will pay.” Livia said.
“I know and I would save you for free. I wish I could… I would do anything to give you more time but… I can’t.” Old Badger said and bowed her head: “You are a good girl, and you don’t deserve this but… all I can do is say this.”
Old Badger blew out smoke and looked at her.
“Don’t give up. As long as you live, there is hope. I might not be able to help you, but the world is larger than me. I cannot promise anything other than this. I do not know everything. There are others who know more than I do. So fight and live. Make most of everything you have. To live is to hope.” Old Badger said and looked at Grandfather Death: “But I can promise you this. If he is not gentle with you, he will answer to me, and my wrath is more fearsome than my prince’s.”
Grandfather Death smiled his eternal smile.
“Even death knows better than to try the patience of Old Badger.”
Old Badger kissed her forehead and gave her the Quiet’s blessing. She held her hand and told her stories from her past adventures with her husband until Livia could fall asleep. She liked the one where Old Badger and His Savage Highness kicked in Zagan the Bloody’s teeth the most. When she woke up, she found Prospero sitting by her bed.
“Hi.” Prospero said.
“… hi.” Livia said back: “… how is Viktor?”
“Asleep. As well as you could hope.” Prospero said and rubbed his jaw: “What did she say?”
“… she said… I should live… that there is hope as long as I live.” Livia said.
“Not bad advice.” Prospero said slowly before bowing his head: “I swear…”
“… Prospero…?”
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“… Livia… I swear. I will help you. I have many contacts in the Wyrding. I will send the word. House Ferro will reward anyone who can help you, so live. Live until I we find a way to save you.”
Livia promised and Prospero kept his promise.
The next specialist who came to her wasn’t an old and esteemed doctor with a white beard and an even whiter coat. He was the most strangely dressed person Livia had ever seen. He wore a blue pointy hat with a brim so wide it hid his face and Livia caught only a glimpse of a short yellow beard. He wore a blue coat to match his hat and a green cloak hung from his shoulders. Despite walking like a young man, he carried a staff.
What was even stranger… were the guards.
This time the best soldiers in her father’s household were accompanying the man and they looked… weary. Even father had joined them and Starfall, their family’s ancestral blade, hung from his belt. But not even the sword made father look any more comfortable. Her father… a veteran of the Twelve-Year-War… looked scared.
“… who is this?” Livia asked.
Father chewed on his mustache and gripped the hilt of his sword before answering.
“This is Vincent… of Osetaria. He is…” Father said and let out a heavy sigh: “A wizard.”
A chill ran down Livia’s spine when father revealed he had escorted an Osetarian into her room. If they needed a wizard, why couldn’t it be a Garuccian wizard? The wizard took off his wide brimmed hat… and he didn’t seem like a monster like Livia had thought all Osetarians were. His hair and beard were yellow as straw. He had a wind burned face and eyes blue as the winter sky. He looked younger than father. Perhaps thirty but there was a strange agelessness to him. His smile was friendly but distant. Like he was tipsy or lost in thought.
“… you’re an Osetarian?” Livia asked.
The wizard’s smiled widened.
“Oh yes, Livia de Grimaldi. Vincent of Scholomance at your service. Blessing of the Mountain upon you.” The wizard said and put down his hat and staff: “Bet you never thought you’d see one of us so close.”
The wizard sat down by her bed… but not before nodding at Grandfather Death who was still sitting in the corner. And Grandfather Death… nodded back at him.
“Would you like to see a magic trick?” The wizard said and put up his hands to cast a shadow on the wall: “Look at the bird. Now see how it becomes a spider.”
Livia looked unimpressed when the wizard transformed the shadow puppets from one animal to another.
“… those are just… shadow puppets.” Livia said.
“Got me there, young lady. Got me there.” The wizard said.
Father stood rigid as a rusty nail and chewed on his mustache.
“Get to the point, sorcerer.” Father said.
“I am, lord margrave. I am trying to make my patient feel at ease.” The wizard said and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the tattoo of a dog on his wrist: “Don’t you just hate it when a master it rushed at his work?”
The wizard caressed the dog tattoo on his wrist like patting the head of a loyal pet and Livia could have sworn… the tattoo moved.
“How about something a bit more complex than shadow puppets?” The wizard suggested.
Livia was expecting him to do card tricks like Viktor would on occasion… but instead the tattoo of a do jumped off the wizard’s wrist and took the appearance of a spectral hound. Father and his soldiers forgot to be scared for a moment and looked like… children witnessing a miracle. The ghost dog rested its head on Livia’s bed and licked her hand. Its tongue felt cold.
“… can I pet it?” Livia asked.
“Cinder does love pettings.” The wizard said.
Livia petted the ghost dog until they were both satisfied and the ghost dog jumped back in the wizard’s hand.
“Hopefully that was a bit more impressive, young lady.” The wizard said.
Livia could only nod, and the wizard laughed.
“I’m glad to hear it. Now, give me your hands.” The wizard said.
Livia did as she was told, and the wizard’s hands felt so warm against her cold skin.
“Curious. Very curious. Cold hand and… cold feet as well I assume. Pale skin too. Weak condition in general. Tell me, young lady. Do you have chest pains?”
“… yes?”
“Shortness of breath? Dizziness?” The wizard suggested.
Livia nodded on both accounts.
“This gets even more curious. Now… let’s have a look at that heart.” The wizard said.
For a moment Livia was terrified that the wizard would pull out her beating heart with magic but to her relief… and disappointment, he just took out a stethoscope. He pressed it to her chest and listened to the beating of her heart.
“I see, I see. Irregular heartbeats. Very curious.” The wizard said.
“If you’re going to say its anemia, tell me something we haven’t heard before.” Father said tersely.
“It’s not anemia.” The wizard said and put away his stethoscope: “An easy mistake to make. Chronic blood loss can have similar symptoms.”
Father stared at the wizard dumbfounded.
“Chronic blood loss? But… how? She… Livia isn’t… she is not on the rag.” Father said, sounding embarrassed.
“I am afraid that her menstrual cycle has little to do with this.” The wizard said.
“… has someone been… stealing my blood?” Livia asked.
The wizard laughed and tapped his temple.
“I’m happy to see the young lady uses her thinking brain. But it is curious. Where could all that blood go?” The wizard said and put his hands gently on her throat.
The wizard massaged her neck with his fingers like he was looking for a diamond amidst dust. Then his thumb touched a sore spot and Livia flinched.
“There we go.” The wizard said and had a closer look at her neck: “Yes. Like I thought. You’ve been bitten. Could you show me your teeth?”
Livia grimaced and the wizard had a close look at her teeth.
“No sign of fangs growing in. No talons either.” The wizards said.
“… fangs… talons?” Father said: “Are you saying she was… attacked… by a vampire?”
“Yes. That is exactly what I am saying.” The wizard said and looked around: “I suggest you hang garlic on the ceiling although I doubt whoever drank from her is coming back. They only wanted to make her sick.”
Father looked at his soldiers who stood around him uneasily.
“You… you know who did this. Help her. Cure her.” Father said.
“That I cannot do. Not when the damage is this far gone but this has been a mildly curious case to crack. A minor distraction.” The wizard said.
Livia had not understood the meaning of the wizard’s strange smile when he had entered but she did now. It had all been a game to him and her just another toy to stave off his boredom. Everyone here… had just been the wizard’s plaything.
A fact father could see too.
“You…!”
Father looked like he wanted to strangle the smiling wizard with his bare hands but then managed to control himself.
“Seize him! Maybe a night in chains will make him reconsider!” Father ordered.
The wizard just laughed.
“Boys, boys, boys. I would not recommend that. I am not some parlor trickster or a pickpocket. I am a student of Scholomance. Touch me and die.” The wizard said.
The soldiers hesitated but then began acting on father’s orders. When they moved, Grandfather Death stood up.
“Don’t do it. They will die.” Grandfather Death said.
“The choice is theirs.” The wizard said.
Fueled by power Livia did not know she had, she jumped out of bed even though it felt like knives were cutting into every muscle in her body and she had swallowed a burning coal. She stood between the wizard and the soldiers, protecting them from his magic.
“… stop… he is… telling the truth.” Livia panted.
The soldiers stopped, shocked, and horrified that she could even stand on her skeletal legs. Even father was taken back by her display of strength. Meanwhile the wizard looked at her like a dog who had done a trick he had taught it.
“Oh? Curious. Very curious. You can see him as well. You are a very curious specimen, lady Livia.” The wizard said and drew a wooden knife with runes carved on it: “As for you, margrave. I am an Osetarian. Not someone a petty Garuccian lord can order around. There are fates worse than death. I have discovered many of them.”
The wizard slashed at air with his wooden knife… and cut a hole in reality. On the other side of the hole was a gentleman’s study with books and jars full of green liquid and specimens. Malformed, unborn babies, cut out from their mothers’ bodies.
“Blessing of the Mountain upon your journey, lady Livia. There might still be hope for you.” The wizard said before walking through the portal he had cut with his knife and closing it behind him.
Starfort was put on high alert after the wizard’s exit. Garlic was hung to the ceiling, and she was told not to open her window for anyone. The guards were doubled, and mother and father interrogated her on what she saw. When she told them that Grandfather Death was sitting in the corner, they just shook their heads and told her to rest.
“It’s not that they don’t believe you. They’re just too scared to believe you.” Grandfather Death said when they were alone.
“… everyone is so scared… even Viktor…”
“It is only when you’re scared that you can be brave.” Grandfather Death said: “And your brother is not the only one in this castle who is brave.”
Livia nodded and looked at the flowers of garlic decorating her room.
“… do those… really work on vampires?”
“They do. During Baron Stradheim’s conquest one of your ancestors would decorate himself with flowers of garlic. He called himself the Knight of Garlic.” Grandfather Death said and chuckled to himself: “He was a man with a sense of humor.”
“… you knew… my ancestor?”
“I know everyone eventually.”
“… so you met… the Starlight Knight too?”
“I did. Are you curious about him?” Grandfather Death asked.
“… he’s Viktor’s favorite but… father says we would have been kings if not for him… he gets so angry when… people remind him…” Livia said: “… the Starlight Knight… broke his vows and… married a demon.”
“Marchioness Larissia. An exceptional woman. They made each other very happy.” Grandfather Death said.
“… but he could have been a king…”
“Few people would have the courage to turn down a crown. He did not want it and knew he was not suited for it.”
“… but… it made his parents angry… you should do as your parents say…”
“Parents are not always right, and children are not their parents’ property.” Grandfather Death said.
More self-proclaimed wizards and healers were brought before her after that. All swearing that they could help her with their potions and spells but none of them could see Grandfather Death. When she asked them about the figure sitting in the corner, they all outed themselves as conmen. Father had grown to believe her enough to not be taken in by proved liars and his anger was terrible to behold.
“Take them in the back and have them whipped.” Father ordered.
“… no.” Livia said.
Father looked at her sternly.
“No? Is a child questioning my decision?”
“… it could… kill me… if you whip anyone… who can’t help me… you might scare off those… who can.” Livia said.
Father did not say anymore and left in a huff but none of the conmen were whipped.
Not all conmen came to visit her in person. One doctor claimed to have mastered the art of heart transplants and promised in a letter to fix her up with a simple operation. Another rich merchant called Pietro swore his doctors could help her if Viktor marrier his daughter.
All letters of that sort were burned.
Every day her health deteriorated but her fame grew. The Dying Oracle of Starfort. Tall tales that were not so tall about how she could see through lies and even converse with Death.
It took a while before she met another person who could see Grandfather Death.
Even when she was wasting away, Viktor tried to find new ways to make her forget that she was dying and one afternoon servants came to her room to tell her that she would be eating with her family. Livia looked at them surprised but then nodded and let herself be helped out of bed.
The servants dressed her, and she tried to ignore how obvious their disgust was when they saw her shriveled body. They acted fast and whenever they touched her bare skin, they would rub their hands against their aprons like it would stop them from catching her sickness.
The dress she wore was night blue and the hem was decorated with gold stars. The colors and symbols of her noble house. Once the dress had fit her perfectly but now it hung to her loosely and felt heavy as a boulder. She could only walk in small bursts in her nightgown and with the heavy dress, the servants had to carry her. Grandfather Death followed her without making a sound. She was taken to the grand dining hall. The biggest room in the castle built to hold banquets and dances. It was kept warm with large fireplaces that the cooks would roast meats on. A long table had been elevated above the others that was reserved for her family. Once it had been filled to the brim, but the Twelve-Year-War had not been kind to House Grimaldi and the table was barren. Viktor was waiting for her when she was carried to her seat and Viktor placed a cushion on it.
“What’s going on?” Livia asked when she was seated.
“I was out at the village and there was a clown performing at the market. I almost pissed myself laughing so I asked for father to bring him here to perform.” Viktor said.
That was when she saw the clown enter the grand hall.
To her surprise, he was a child. The same age as Viktor. Unlike her robust brother, the clown was lean and flexible as a whip. He wore a tunic with faded colors, but she could make out a motley blue, pink, and purple. His face had been painted into a patchwork with the same colors and he wore a blue jester’s hat with red bells on it.
The servants started filling the grand hall and filling the lesser tables and they looked at the clown with curiosity. Then the great doors opened, and a servant announced father’s and mother’s arrival.
“All rise for the margrave and his lady wife!”
Livia needed her brother’s help to get on her feet but stand she did with everyone else. The clown even took off his jester hat and bowed, revealing a thick mop of black hair. Father and mother took their seats and after a moment father gave his permission for the clown to begin. The clown muttered something under his breath that Livia suspected was a prayer for courage. Then he began.
“My patrons! My sweet patrons! My lords and ladies! Whose humble slave I am! Boom-Boom the Clown at your service! I am tonight’s entertainment, and I will serve you so hard and thoroughly that you will walk funny for days!”
“Oh my.” Mother said with a smile.
The clown’s voice could have left dents in steel and carried easily to every corner in the grand hall.
"Now... my sweet patrons. In advance... my warnings and my apologies. Tonight, I will rise below vulgarity and end a joke with punching a man in the dick. That is the warning. If you're anything like me, you will want to leave. Which gets me to my apology. I am sorry to inform you that the doors are locked you are trapped in here with me."
Livia watched transfixed as the clown started going through his routine.
"I used to work for Gentlemen of the Shade. The greatest circus in Garuccia. Or they were until they fired me. Now I am clown on the run. Looking for my lost love and turning five-star hotels into three ring circuses."
One of the servants cheered and yelled at the clown: "So young and already a lady killer."
Boom-Boom wagged his finger at the interrupting servant.
"The coppers could not prove anything. Yet."
Livia laughed and she wasn't the only and Boom-Boom moved on to his next story.
"I came to being a fool the honest way. Like my father was fond of saying before running off with a mermaid. 'My son, my son... you will never be a fisherman like me. You're only good for handling bait and being a master baiter is no life. You are a fool who thinks he knows everything. Which means you only have two options. Clowning or the law.' So I made my choice and picked the more dignified option. Then I punched him in the dick."
Livia could have sworn her brother peed a little while laughing.
For the next glorious hour Boom-Boom made her forget about her impending death and she could just laugh. He joked. He danced. He stumbled. Then he joked some more. Viktor had doubled over from laughter and mother had to hide her giggling with a handkerchief. Even her usually stern father was threatening to smile.
“For the next part… we get dangerous.” Boom-Boom said and took out a parcel that he opened, revealing a collection of daggers: “So dangerous I feel like I will need some liquid courage.”
“… won’t that just make it more dangerous?” Livia asked.
Her voice was weak, but the fool’s ears were sharper than his daggers and he gave her a wide smile.
“That is a great question. I admire it. And yes, it will. But no one came to see me succeed. You came to see me fail. I am just stacking the deck in your favor.” Boom-Boom said.
“I think you have earned some wine, our brave fool.” Mother said with a smile.
“You are too kind, auntie.” Boom-Boom said.
Mother poured Boom-Boom some wine in a cup, and he drank it greedily. Then he started juggling the daggers. First three at a time. Then four. And finally, five. Livia could only dare to look from behind her hands, certain that Boom-Boom would lose a finger at any moment.
He never did.
“Boom-Boom lives to fool around another day!” Boom-Boom roared.
Other audience members poured him more wine and Boom-Boom kept dancing and tumbling for them. And joking. But with every drop of wine his jokes grew bolder and bawdier. Livia could sense the danger. Boom-Boom was walking on a sword bridge, and she wanted to shout him a warning. When you walk on a sword bridge, you risk cutting yourself.
“This has to be the finest company I have ever performed to.” Boom-Boom said with a slur in his voice: “A House of Could-Have-Been-Kings.”
An icy silence fell into the grand hall following his words and everyone turned to look at father who was trying to cut Boom-Boom to pieces with his eyes. The guard were already gripping their weapons and just waiting for the order to drag Boom-Boom away so they could… teach him some manners. Boom-Boom sobered up in seconds when he realized he had pushed his luck too far.
“Poor boy just bombed.” Grandfather Death said to her.
Livia thought quickly how to save Boom-Boom from her father’s wrath and did the only thing she could.
She kept laughing and applauding.
“Don’t stop now! Keep going!” Livia shouted.
Mother whispered something to father who reluctantly gave the guards order to stand down and Viktor let out a sigh of relief. For a moment Livia’s and Boom-Boom’s eyes met… and she was shocked how beautiful his eyes were. And she could sense his gratitude.
The show went on for another fifteen minutes and the laughs Boom-Boom won were hard earned and awkward. Once the performance was done, Livia was carried back into her room and helped out of the heavy clothes.
“Pity about that would-be-kings joke.” Viktor said: “I would have liked to hire him full time.”
“… will he be alright?” Livia asked.
“The servants smuggled him out from the back. Mother even wrote him a letter of recommendation as compensation. Father will fume for a while and then find something else to be offended by.” Viktor said.
That night Livia was resting uneasily in her room. Her sleep was always pained and uneasy. Rest evaded her and she just lied in bed waiting for another coughing outburst when she heard a knock at her window. For one terrified second, she was expecting to see a vampire’s pale face by her window, but she looked… she saw Boom-Boom’s smiling face. Boom-Boom who had somehow climbed to her window. A window that oversaw her family’s lands from a very tall tower. His face was still painted but the color had started to run from sweat.
“Evening, lady Livia. Mind if I come in?” Boom-Boom said.
She hesitated only for a moment and opened the window with great effort. Boom-Boom hopped in nimbly as an acrobat and did a small bow upon his grand entry. When Livia saw him up close, she realized how faded and patched his tunic was. He had come barefooted and the tips of his toes and fingers were bleeding.
“Thank you kindly.” Boom-Boom said and pulled out a small bouquet from under his belt: “My gift for you. For your sense of humor.”
Livia blushed when she accepted the flowers. She had received far more beautiful bouquets, but no one had climbed up a tower to deliver them to her before.
“… thank you.” Livia said.
“I should be the one thanking you.” Boom-Boom said and bowed his head: “Blessing of the Wild upon you. And you too, Grandfather Death.”
Grandfather Death let out a rattling laugh.
“I humbly accept.” Grandfather Death said and rubbed his jawbone: “We have met before, but I am not sure what to call you anymore.”
“What everyone else does. Boom-Boom the Clown.” Boom-Boom said.
“… you can see him?” Livia said.
“I see many things.” Boom-Boom said and then looked at the warm kettle by the table: “Like that tea. Strengthened with brandy I assume?”
“… they say… it helps with the pain. I don’t like it.”
“Brandy does help with pain in my opinion, yes, and it would be a shame to waste it. Mind if I partake?”
“… go ahead.”
Boom-Boom poured himself a cup and glanced at Grandfather Death.
“Care to join me?”
“I do not drink on the job and if you do, we might meet again sooner rather than later.” Grandfather Death said.
“I’ll roll those dice, darling. And if I lose the bet, I will meet my maker good and drunk. No one should die sober.” Boom-Boom said and had a sip: “Usually I don’t come back for more abuse when I flop on stage but… butt… butts… You did pull my bacon out of the fire, so I owe you an encore.”
“… how kind of you.”
Boom-Boom smiled.
“I follow the Clown Code. We do not forget. Be it a kindness or a slight. You are sick and I will do what I can which is less than I’d like.” Boom-Boom said and tapped his temple: “Butt… there is still some wit left in here.”
Livia giggled.
“… there is some wit left in your butt?”
“Among other places.”
Boom-Boom sat by her bed and began whispering in her ear.
“I share with you the secret names skin-changer princes and princesses. Remember them in your prayers and they might come to you. It’s not only vampires that can offer eternal life.”
Livia listened intently when Boom-Boom whispered the name of skin-changer royalty in her ear. Names they called each other with. Names had power and now she knew theirs. Once Livia had repeated the names back to Boom-Boom, he smiled and bowed again.
“I should get going. A daring rogue like meself should not be caught in a lady’s chamber at this hour. I worry your father might confiscate my dangly bits if he found us like this.”
Boom-Boom hopped to the windowsill but before he started his long climb down, he turned to look at Grandfather Death.
“Grandfather Death?”
“Yes, Boom-Boom the Clown?”
“I remember… a woman. I dream about her most nights. Have you… met her by any chance?”
Grandfather Death was quiet for a moment.
“I am not in the habit of revealing trade secrets.” Grandfather Death said.
“Consider it a kindness. For the entertainment.” Boom-Boom said.
“A payment? Very well. I have not.”
Boom-Boom nodded and if Livia’s eyes had not been failing her, she could have told if there were tears in his eyes.
“I… well… yes. Good.” Boom-Boom said and wiped his eyes quickly: “Blessing of the Wild upon your journey, lady Livia. Maybe we will meet again.”
Livia’s heartbeat quickened when she watched Boom-Boom climb down and held on to the flowers, he had brought her. He moved like a spider down the wall and his fingers and toes found the small cracks between the stones to hold on to.
“… I hope so too.” Livia said.
After that night she began praying for the ancient Wyrding gods. Whispering their names under her blanket between coughs. Pleading them to come for her.
They never did.
Her condition worsened soon after that. On good days, she slept for twenty hours. On bad days she did not sleep and could only lie down, waiting for the pain to stop.
It never did.
And one day she woke up blind.
But still she refused to die.
Even when Grandfather Death put his bony hand on her forehead.
“Livia… It is time to go.”
Livia looked at Grandfather Death with her unseeing eyes. The friend who had stayed by her side all this time… and shook her head.
“I won’t go.”
“Even if staying here only hurts you?”
“I won’t go.”
“It will only get worse.”
“I won’t go.”
“If you come with me, the pain will end.”
“I won’t go.”
When Grandfather Death spoke again, there was sadness in his voice.
“Your will is strong. I will be close by. Call to me when you’re ready to let go. I will be there.”
When all seemed lost, Livia did the only thing she could. She prayed. She kept repeating the mantra Boom-Boom had taught her and hoped they would hear her.
Even if it betrayed her whole bloodline, she wanted to live.
She came from a House of witchfinders. Heroes of old who had banished the Wyrding monsters from Garuccia when House Eld had fallen. Her father had proudly told her of her family’s history and how they had skinned skin-changers, burned witches, and crushed the worship of Paths in Garuccia. Now you could only find gods walking the earth in The Wyrding.
So, she prayed to them.
The gods her family had warred against for centuries. She prayed to the strange and ancient gods of The Wyrding. The prayer was not far from her thoughts. She prayed even though she could not speak. She kept praying even when she could no longer see. She kept praying even when her mind was muddled by laudanum. She kept praying.
And one night a god answered.
Like Grandfather Death, the god slithered in under the cover of night. She slipped in under the doors. Through the smallest holes in the walls. Between the tiniest cracks only a god could see. When Livia felt her approaching, she prayed twice as hard.
Until the god was by her bed.
“Greetings, Livia. Greetings.” The god said and every word was accompanied by a hissing sound like a lisp: “It is so good to finally meet you. Yes indeed. I have heard your prayers on so many nights. And now? Here I am.”
The god had a woman’s voice. Soothing and playful… with something sadistic flowing under it.
The god slithered into her bed and coiled around her… and for the first time Livia remembered what it was like to be free of pain. The smooth scales wrapped around her were shielding her from the pain.
“It is an honor to meet you, my brave little hero. You too, Grandfather Death. Yes. I see you there. Hiding in the corner. Ready to take her away but… will she go with you? Or will she take my offer instead?”
A long, thin tongue licked her cheek.
“It must be painful. Dying. Having everyone around you just wait for you to die.” The god said and hugged her tighter: “I heard your prayers and had to see it for myself. A child who told Grandfather Death off.”
… want to live…
“I know, sweetie. I know. But this is no life.” The god said and licked her face: “But I can take all that away. Swap the pain for excessive life eternal. Would you like to live a life of excess, Livia? Would you like to live forever? All you have to do is ask for it.”
Even with the pain gone, she could not speak. The only way she could ask questions was with her face and expressions. So she nodded. Yes. Yes! A million times yes!
“… yes…”
The god hissed and chuckled.
“Then surrender yourself to me and I will surrender myself to you. We will be one. In body and soul. What sights we shall see together.”
… I could… go outside… again? I could… see?
“Yes. You will see things no mortal has ever dreamt of.” The god said and kissed her forehead: “This will be over soon. Just a flash of pain and no more suffering. Ever.”
The god opened her mouth, wider than anything should have been possible. Then she pulled Livia in, and she wondered if this was how it felt to be born. Or unborn. To be pulled back into the warm nothingness every living thing had to leave when a midwife dragged them into the cold, uncaring world.
And then… it flashed through her.
Her life. Short as it may have been. She could see all of it. Like she was caught in the eye of a hurricane and her house of memories was flying all around her. The brief years spent playing and learning to be a lady. The vampire… sneaking into her room… poisoning her… the painful year spent dying in her room… her brother… Boom-Boom… she saw it all.
And in the middle of it all, she saw a snake.
Large as a grown man with scales like green jade and eyes the color of bird eggs. When the snake god spoke, she was no longer lisping, and Livia realized that they spoke with the same voice. The snake god’s words were her words.
“No more pain. Ever.”
And then she was swallowed whole.
.
.
.
.
.
The next morning when Livia woke up, Grandfather Death was gone. She sat in bed for a moment and studied her new fingers and toes. What strange things they were. Like bony, fleshy worms. She had ones in her feet too and she wriggled her toes for a moment before climbing out of bed and drawing aside the curtains, flooding her room with sunlight.
She looked outside at the lands belonging to House Grimaldi.
Her House.
Her lands.
Where she was master of all she saw.
“My sweet Livia… what should we do with our world?” Livia said while undressing herself so she could feel the sun with every part of her skin.
She had always loved resting in the sun.
The servants screamed when they saw her awake, alive, and completely naked from her rebirth. Her mother wept and her brother held her. Her father had always been a coward at heart and could only watch from a distance. He was the only one who could see it. That the eyes looking at him were no longer his daughter’s. He just couldn’t admit it to himself.
In return Livia smiled and watched.
With all-seeing eyes, the color of bird eggs.