Pandora's Box

Chapter 8: Part I

"That's not good enough!" Pandora shouted, pounding her fist against the floating glass table beside her mother's hearthside chair. It teetered threatening to spill the water glass and matching decanter, then shimmered against the firelight with a bluish wave as it regained its balance.

Queen Adella closed her book and let the venerable tome fall gently against her chest. She sighed, standing only when her daughter's tirade had come to its conclusion.

"Isn't it? You think so little of me that you believe I'd prefer to go on living in a world lacking your father's light? You think his loss is something that doesn't gnaw my heart of its very will to beat?" The book slipped from Adella's hand onto the floating table. "How could you think such a thing?"

Pandora's eyes bleared. "Because I know it's within your power to resurrect him! I can feel it. I know you can do it. I know you can bring him back."

The queen reached for her daughter, and for a moment the fury melted from Pandora's features, revealing the childish visage Adella had once known.

Just as quickly as the burning anguish vanished, it returned.

With a vengeance.

Pandora stormed past her mother, rattling the glass miniatures displayed in various collections on other floating disks in her mother's private library. Pandora flung aside a rolling ladder with gilded trim and handrails, filling the air with the sound of gliding iron. She swiped her hand at the towering stacks of arcane knowledge.

"I know there's something here, some ritual or spell, some contract to be made with some forgotten god that could bring my father back. You've told me yourself that mastery of the craft meant being able to alter the pathways between our world and the World Beyond." Pandora quickly spun, regarding her mother, breaths coming in pants. "Why won't you save him?"

Adella drew in a long breath, held it for a moment and then released it. When she made to stroke the princess's hair behind her ear, Pandora deflected the gesture. Unfazed, Adella appealed once more to reason. "Have you learned nothing from your studies? Nothing from me, dear daughter?"

"Learned? Learned?" Pandora was incredulous. "You stand there with a straight face and ask me what I've learned. Well let me tell you what I've learned, mother." Pandora selected a text at random from a shelf. "I've learned that this, all of this, is horseshit." She tossed the book into the flames. Her lips curled into a fraction of a cruel smile. And then claimed a second book for the flame. A third...

"Pandora—"

"Stop. If you're not going to tell me why we have all of this power just to let it rot on the shelf then say nothing at all," Pandora replied coldly. "If you won't save my faday, then I'll do it myself." She turned for the door.

Adella's hand flashed, catching Pandora's wrist and locking the princess in place beside her. The queen studied her daughter's suddenly too hard features. "You've felt it haven't you? The Blight?"

Pandora stared defiantly back at her mother. "Yes. It called out to me in my dreams."

"How long? Adella asked. She gently squeezed her daughter's wrist, her tone steady and patient as ocean tides. "How long have you wielded it?"

"Long enough." Pandora wrested free of the queen's grip. "If you won't act then I shall do everything in my power in your place."

"You are playing with forces you've only dreamt about, child. The Blight is no carnival trick or passing illusion to amuse you friends." Adella fixed her gaze on Pandora, and willed dim the fire light. The very essence of time froze. "The price for abusing the delicate balance between life and death is more than you can understand."

"For my father, I'll pay it. I'll pay anything."

"Your life?"

"Yes." Pandora flicked her hand and the chamber door flew open. "And any others necessary."