Court of the Undying Seasons by A.M. Strickland

Author:A.M. Strickland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

17

I change my face in Masks not long after my conversation with Jaen.

It’s as if knowing myself better and trusting that my feelings are mine, even if they’re unwise, relaxes something deep inside me. Maybe I understand myself well enough that I can loosen my grip, let go as Kashire always tells us, and yet not lose track of what makes me me.

It happens while I’m staring into the mirror at my desk, as usual. Except this time I’m not concentrating on my face and trying to imagine something different, even as my features swim with the help of wine and mushrooms. Rather, I’m lost in a daydream, imagining myself wandering through an unknown land, flowers blooming around me, confident where I tread and yet wanting to explore. In my surreal vision, I find a rippling pool of quicksilver water at my feet and peer down into it with the same open curiosity.

I want to see who I can become as much as where I can go.

Distantly, I hear Revar’s words that first evening on the way to Courtsheart: I look forward to seeing what you will become.

Me too, I think dazedly, for the first time. For once, I’m not fearing—or even feeding—the vengeful creature inside me. Or the starving child. Or the weak foundling. I just let them be, all of them like shards in a stained-glass window, no longer broken fragments, but together shaping something complex and difficult to make out from too close. Maybe even something beautiful. I’ve never wanted to be beautiful, but maybe I can find it in me as I piece myself into something newer and fuller.

I’m just becoming, in each new moment. Unfolding like a blossom. But instead of parchment or petals, I’m made of knife edges that become a work of art when moonlight hits it just right.

That’s when I change. The boundaries of my self ripple outward in the water’s surface at my feet. Suddenly the quicksilver pool in my daydream becomes the mirror on my desk in Masks, its movement stilling to a smooth glass reflection. The face within is different from what it was before. It’s still mine, but something entirely new at the same time.

My wheat-colored hair now appears silvered by moonlight, the color of frost in the darkness, shaved on one side and falling in a straight blade past my shoulder on the other. My features are neither particularly feminine nor masculine. Just … me. My jaw and chin are stronger, more angular, my nose and cheekbones sharper and bolder. And yet there are softer accents about my fuller mouth and my near-black eyes where long, dark lashes fan against luminous skin.

I’m beautiful—or handsome—or something fascinating, like I never have been before. I’m myself, and yet not like the Fin who was sitting here a moment ago. I also recognize others in the more superficial touches—vampires. My lips are a deep plum color, borrowed from Jaen, and my eyes are lined in kohl like I’ve seen on both Gavron and Kashire.

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