A Ghost in the House of Iron

Chapter Six

SINDRED

Back in the training room, Aurelius tries to explain the same thing to me for possibly the hundredth time: "Feel the difference in color, in texture, in weight. It is not enough to imagine your own reflection altered, you have to feel it."

"I know," I say, sighing. "I understand. It's just... It's hard. It is easier to imagine how it feels to be a cat, or a spider, than it is another version of myself. I know that makes no sense." I rub my face with my hands.

"This is not a shapeshifting lesson. That's not something I can teach you. Try again. This is the most basic of glamour. I know you have the ability. Try to feel, Sindred."

I close my eyes, sit up straight. I focus on my body, on the way my legs press into the ground, the way my bones fit together, my hair tickles against the skin of my face and shoulders. I feel my breath, my heartbeat, the slight ache in my skull. I picture what I must look like, lips and cheeks flushed pink against the white of my skin, forehead furrowed in concentration, skinny limbs sharp at the knees and elbows. I picture the silvery irises of my eyes, the opalescent shimmer that's started to show through the yellow hair dye. Like moonlight on snow. Like drops of water on glass. Like a cloud dancing across a starry night sky, weightless, pulled by the tug of the wind. Just a wisp of white in the vastness, so easily swept away into nothing. Nothing. Just a ghost, a pale shadow. Why change the way I look when I'm not worth anyone's notice? When I might as well not exist at all?

I open my eyes, ready to tell Aurelius I give up on this lesson.

Aurelius is staring at me, eyes narrowed in confusion. No, not staring at me. Staring through me. He blinks, shakes his head.

"Aurelius?"

"What? Who-?" His face drains of color as he looks around the room, as if there's someone else here. An intruder? I've never seen the stoic man so nervous and jumpy.

"What's going on?" I ask, looking around myself. I see nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe Aurelius heard something while I was lost in my head.

Aurelius doesn't respond to my question. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he looks right at me. "Sindred?"

"Is something wrong?" I squeak.

"What did you do?" I can't tell if he's angry or afraid. "Were you in my head? What did you do to me?"

"I didn't do anything!" Did I? Demon. Evil. My thoughts race, but I can't make sense of what just happened, only feed my own growing panic. I want to shrink away, to run.

"Sindred," Aurelius takes my hands. I realize I've wrapped my arms around myself and my fingernails were digging into my skin. "It's alright. I've just never seen anything like that before. Everything is fine."

"What happened?" I ask.

"You used glamour," he says.

"But I-"

He interrupts me. "We need to speak to Ezebel. Come."

.

In the apothecary, I stand as far behind Aurelius as I dare while he talks to Ezebel, his tone hushed. I try not to fidget, to let the White Witch see my discomfort.

"It's a trick of the mind," Aurelius explains. "You feel changed, convince yourself so fully, that when others interact with you they are fooled as well. But small changes, like the hue of one's hair or the tip of one's ear, do not require much convincing on either end. It doesn't..." he looks for the right word, "invade anyone's mind. Just pushes against it slightly. That is enough."