Of Silver and Swans | #nanowrimo2019

two

Maman led the girls out the door, a carefully wrapped bundle nestled in her arms. Like a flock of birds, they fell into order, Circe heading the front with Evelyn making up the rear.

Lynette shivered, biting back the urge to complain. Snow blanketed the ground, yet they were dressed in flimsy nightgowns, the wind sending strong chills down her spine. She and her sisters made an eerie but beautiful picture as they traipsed toward their lake, their gowns and hair billowing out behind them. For once, Lynette was grateful Maman refused to let them cut their hair because it was the only thing keeping her shoulders warm.

Circe sidled toward Lynette, allowing Laraline and Odette to pass her. They both gave her curious looks before slipping forward to fill in her place, blocking them from Maman's view. Though they often bickered and bemoaned, they were part of the same bevy, and they looked out for each other. At least, most of them did.

"Maman should have punished you more," Circe hissed. Lynette shrugged her shoulders, much to her eldest sister's annoyance. It was best to remain nonchalant around Circe. If Lynette showed weakness, it would not be long before her sister found an opportunity for exploitation. "This a blessing bestowed upon us by the moon," she pressed on. Lynette stifled the urge to roll her eyes. "You disgrace our family by whining about our heritage."

Lynette stared straight, ignoring the challenging glint in Circe's eyes. She would not rise to the bait. She had promised Evelyn.

Circe sniffed disdainfully, but she made her way back to the front, taking her place behind Maman. If Maman had noticed the slight slip in order, she made no comment.

Odette and Laraline shot sympathetic looks over their shoulders, but Lynette shook her head. They always felt sorry for her, but she didn't want their pity. She wanted their help. But that was impossible. While not as blindly loyal as Circe, Odette and Laraline would never renounce their magic. They loved it with a passion Lynette could never understand.

The lake rose to meet their procession, peeking its head above the hillside. The sisters fanned out, arranging themselves with Maman in the middle. In unison, they lowered themselves into kneeling positions.

As they bowed their heads, Lynette sunk her fingers into the snow, letting the cool numbness stretch up to her knuckles. She needed something to remind her that despite the ceremony's beauty, darkness lay buried beneath.

Maman let out a cry, and their voices rose to join hers, harmonizing into a luring melody. The swan song.

Lynette tried to trap her song in her lungs, swallowing it down like sand, but it would not be contained. The moon pulled it from her throat, thrusting it into the air. Lynette blinked back a tear. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her sisters, their heads tilted toward the moon. None of them seemed the slightest bit distressed.

Maman's voice cut off, falling abruptly silent. Lynette's voice was shoved back into her throat. She choked it down, feeling the unfairness simmer in her heart. The moon shone down on her, smiling sadly. Life's not fair, my blessing, she seemed to say, but Lynette already knew that.

Life's not fair, she responded, but why can't it be?

The moon had no answer for that.

Odette nudged her sharply in the side with her elbow, shooting a warning at her. Silently, Lynette apologized, lowering her gaze so that she stared into the icy lake. Maman had been speaking, but Lynette had completely tuned her out.

"Give us your light, give us your blessing, give us your feathers," Maman chanted, her words ringing out in the silence.

"Give us your feathers," they repeated, raising their heads. Lynette took the opportunity to glare at the moon, daring her to do something. As usual, the moon remained taciturn.

Maman lifted her hands, cupping them around the moon. It was full, swelling silver in her grasp. She lowered them, and a wedge sat in her palms like a hunk of cheese. The moon was now a crescent, its corners curving into a sly smile.

Moonlight trickled from between her fingers in strained rivulets, the droplets sparkling like gemstones in the light. Lynette and her sisters rose to their feet, padding over to form a line behind Maman.

As the eldest, Circe had the honor of drinking first. She knelt underneath Maman's clasped hands and parted her lips, her eyelashes fluttering against her closed eyelids. The moonlight dripped into her mouth, and she let out a soft, luxurious sigh. Circe's severe features melted, the corners of her lips upturned into a blissful smile. She remained kneeling, waiting for another drop, but Maman's patience had waned like the moon.

"You've had enough," she hissed, closing her hands so that no more moonlight could slip through. A slight frown crinkled Circe's features. Lynette knew she craved more, but she would never disobey Maman. She got to her feet and bowed her head, her lashes lowered in apology.

"I'm sorry, Maman," she whispered, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Maman dismissed her with an impatient wave of her hand. Circe trudged to the back of the line, ignoring the sympathetic looks of her sisters. As she passed, she glared at Lynette, as if Maman's rebuff was her fault.

The girls shuffled forward. Lynette shifted as Laraline and then Odette took their sips of moonlight. She felt naked standing so openly before the moon, its judgment cold against her skin.

Odette walked past, shooting her a quick look of reassurance. She might not understand Lynette's discomfort at the ceremony, but she could still tell when she was perturbed.

Lynette inhaled, the sharp winter air slicing at her lungs. It blew with a bite, but she liked the edge it carried.

Maman crooked her finger, beckoning her daughter forward.

"Why so afraid, my little cygnet?" she asked, holding out her hands so that the pooled moonlight glistened alluringly. She tilted her head, an unspoken challenge. "Don't you want to reap the moon's blessing?" Lynette darted a glance at the moon, seeking a sign. Any sign that would let her get out of this, just once. But the moon's lips were sealed.

"No, Mamam," Lynette lied. "I have no fear."

She crouched down, tucking the hem of her nightgown under her knees. She looked up toward the sky. Maman took her time, drawing out her torture. Slowly, she spread her willowy fingers, allowing the liquid silver to seep through the cracks.

A drop landed on Lynette's tongue. As much as she wished she could hate it, the taste of moonlight was indescribable. It tasted like stars colliding and moonlit waters and the cool midnight breeze all at once, sweet and saturated with sugar. She gritted her teeth, trying to tamp it down, but magic rose unbidden in her chest, called forth by the moonlight.

Lynette blinked away the bliss and rose to her feet, meeting Maman's saccharine-sewn smile. The magic intoxicated her, filling her veins with a dizzying power, but she would not let Maman see. She crafted her features back into a picture of stone, hiding the unsteadiness she felt inside.

She made her way to the rear of the line, pointedly ignoring Circe's smug look. Odette reached her hand back, her fingers imploring. Lynette took her offer, twining their fingers together, feeling the same soft hum of magic through her sister's skin.

Lyra, Aderyn, and Evelyn joined the ranks behind her. Maman lifted the parcel she had brought from its resting place in the snow, unveilings its contents. Inside lay their cloaks, crafted of silvery feathers. Moonlight wove through them like gossamer, making the fabric impossibly silky. Maman doled the cloaks out, handing one to each girl.

Lynette took hers gratefully, sliding the delicate fabric over her cold shoulders. She tied it around her neck, the weight of the moonstone-inlaid clasp settling against her clavicle. As if in a trance, she and her sisters made their way to the edge of the lake, where they stood in solemn silence.

Jump, my cygnets, the moon whispered.

And they did.