by Megan Derr
He slipped past them into the inn and up the stairs to the room he shared with Pechal. The room had six beds in total with very little space between them. Shinju stood by the window where Raz had been earlier. Pechal still slept in his own bed, his blankets once more tangled around him. Raz patiently unwound them again, smoothed them out over him, and combed out the tussled hair.
His plan had been to wake Pechal and tell him what was going on, but he suddenly was loathe to do it. Waking Pechal to say goodbye seemed to final, and their parting wasn't final. He would be back soon.
Instead he just tucked the blankets firmly around him and pressed a kiss to Pechal's cheek. "Fire warm your hearth and light your path," he whispered. "I'll see you again soon, Pechal."
Rising to his full height, Raz went to his own bed and gathered up his things, slinging his satchel over his head to fall across his chest. Shinju approached him. "Raz—" She hesitated, and then said, "Be careful."
Raz wondered what she had really meant to say, and why she hadn't said it. "I don't know why you and your sister are helping us, but it's appreciated, Shinju. I hope someday I can repay it and that helping us does not get you into trouble."
Shinju laughed, sounding a bit unsteady. "You're sweet, Raz. Too sweet, I think. You've been kind to us since we met you back when we knew almost nothing about Pozhar. This place is nothing like home, but you and Pechal made it more bearable. I wish … well, I hope everything goes the way you want, in the end."
"Thanks," Raz said, though he still felt as if he was missing something. "You will take care of him, for me? I don't like to leave him, but no one will just give me that kind of money and now Ivan's cursed because of us—" His voice cracked, and he balled his hands into fists.
He startled when Shinju embraced him, but then relaxed into it, surprised as always at how much she smelled like the ocean. He'd known other people from Kundou, fires he'd slept with a few of them, but they had never smelled like Shio and Shinju. "Be careful, Raz," she said as she drew back and kissed him on the mouth. "We'll see you again soon."
Raz nodded and pulled away, stomach full of rocks as he left Pechal sleeping. A couple of days and they'd be reunited on a ship sailing toward Piedre. They could elude the Vessel hunters for a few more days.
So why did it feel like he was saying goodbye?
Ignoring his pessimistic thoughts, Raz went downstairs, left coin for the innkeeper, and slipped outside to where Ivan and his men were still clustered around the front. He wasn't surprised to see that his horse had been readied while he was upstairs. "Thanks," he said and climbed clumsily up into the saddle. "Shall we meet tomorrow night at the Incoming Tide at the final bell?"
"We'll be there," Ivan said. "Be careful, Raz. The Minister of Magic is no one to trifle with; he's sent more than a few to the noose, and everyone's been on edge since you nearly leveled Ashes."
Raz nodded. "I'll be careful, but everyone on edge should work to my favor. For one, it means he'll be at the palace or out in the streets and not at home. His grace will have … " He trailed off when he realized belatedly that he had not seen Ailill. "Where is his grace?"
"He stayed in the city in case Sasha got back in touch with us," Ivan said. "All of this … he has to be careful. If it's found out that a White Beast of Verde is interfering in the sacrifices it would not go well for relations between our nations. I do not want to know what would happen to all of us then."
"Good point," Raz muttered. "Tomorrow night, then, at the Incoming Tide. Protect him, Ivan. "
"We will, I promise," Ivan said.
Raz nodded and heeled his horse into motion, ignoring the churning in his stomach that said he was making a mistake.
Chapter Nine: Broken
Ivan watched Raz until he could no longer see him, then dropped his folded arms and sighed. "How in the Fires did we get tangled up in such a mess?"
Around him, the men sighed and grumbled. "Do you really think they'll be able to get away, boss?" Gleb asked. "I feel bad for the poor little sparks. Almost want to just give them the scorching money and see them off. Raz and Pechal were always a good sort, unlike the rest of us."
"No, they never really were like the rest of us," Ivan agreed quietly, ignoring his own nagging guilt. He was already doing too much and had wasted too much time—would be wasting even more just getting Pechal back to the Heart and babysitting him. He just hoped that when they got there somebody would be able to break his curse. He started to reach up to rub at his chest again, but caught himself and resisted. His men did not need to see him worrying. "Come on, we need to get some sleep, give the horses a chance to rest. We'll head out at dawn. Luka, you're riding with Pechal. If something happens, get him back to the Heart as best you can, but don't die doing it."
Luka nodded. "Bad business, tampering with the affairs of gods. If we hadn't killed a god to begin with, we wouldn't be in this mess now."
"I don't care about gods," Ivan said. "I care about this damned mark on my chest."
"We're keeping a Vessel away from the hunters," Isidor said. "If we're caught, it'll be the noose for us. All that for a couple of street rats, even if they're a good sort? Not like you, boss."
Ivan's mouth tightened, and he looked up at the moon, feeling as though his thoughts were at least that far away and as hard to grab. "I'm no rebel, but I don't see any harm in letting a Vessel live and die like ordinary folk. If I were a Vessel, I wouldn't go gracefully either. I can't begrudge someone else wanting to fight. We're heading back to the Heart anyway, what's one more person? Don't say it's different because in the end, it's not. We're mercenaries, in case you've forgotten. 'Helping Vessel avoid capture' is going to be the crime written at the top of our sentencing sheet just to grab attention, but it'll be followed by at least a hundred more. We were always going to die with nooses around our necks."
"Fires, this is probably the closest we'll ever get to a good deed, I'd say," Ferapont commented, and then cracked a yawn. "Worse reasons to die, I suppose, than singeing the noble set."
"Indeed," Ivan said, mouth twitching. "Get to bed. We'll need all the rest we can manage. I'll bed down in the main hall."
The men obeyed, calling good night before shuffling off until Ivan was alone outside. Well, almost alone, as he caught sight of Shio and Shinju. They were pretty and talented in many ways, but they had always bothered him. "So what's your stake in this?"
"We have no stake," Shio said.
Ivan sneered and folded his arms across his chest. "Scorch that. Nobody does something just from the kindness of their heart. There's always an ulterior motive. Two mermaids leave the sea to help a couple of thieves for no reason? You're not in love with him, though you are possessive. Does Raz know you've issued threats across the Heart that he's not to be touched unless the offender wants to be killed and turned into your dinner?"
Shinju laughed, all gentleness vanishing from her demeanor, leaving only the ruthless predator Ivan knew mermaids to be. He had never encountered mermaids before, but he'd heard tales from men who had no reason to lie. He'd seen the results of a mermaid attack. They were monsters of the deep who killed without remorse and feasted on the flesh of anyone who walked on land.
So why were these two trying so hard to be nothing more than normal citizens of Kundou? "Raz does," Shio said quietly. "He helps people all the time for no reason at all. He helped us, our first day in Pozhar. No one who is worth listening to speaks ill of him. He's never lied to or betrayed anyone. He's never troubled anyone or asked for anything."
"Yes, I know, he's perfect," Ivan snapped. "Except for the part where he steals things."
"Yet he's trying to save up enough money to live an honest life," Shinju said.
Ivan rolled his eyes because that did sound like Raz: idealistic and pretty and utterly stupid. People like them didn't get honest lives; they just survived until they died. Thanks to Pechal, they were all probably going to die a great deal sooner. "Whatever," he finally said. "You still haven't told me y
our stake in all of this. What do mermaids want with a couple of thieves, or is it the fact that they're Vessels?"
"Only Pechal is a Vessel," Shio said.
"Do I look stupid to you, fish?" Ivan replied. "Raz isn't acting like himself, and he knew my curse would kill me over the course of seven days. I haven't told anybody that. My men don't know that. Then there was the way he said it, the way his eyes almost glowed when he did. There are only two Vessels left to find and sacrifice, and I may not know much about these things, but I know it's probably not so strange that the last two remaining pieces of a god's soul would find each other. But why do you care?"
Shinju shrugged. "It's none of your business, shark."
Ivan had absolutely no idea what a shark was, but he didn't bother asking. He'd probably been called worse, anyway. "It is if it's going to put my life or the lives of my men in danger, and I can't help but feel that it is. Mermaids are mermaids, after all, and they've been known to kill even each other. I don't recall a single tale of a mermaid being kind."
"Forgiveness," Shio said, ignoring the glare her sister sent her. "We are trying to earn forgiveness, and the rest is none of your storming business."
"Forgiveness," Ivan echoed mockingly. "By fawning over and protecting a street rat. I don't believe you, but I'm too tired to keep arguing. But if you try to do something, I will make certain you regret it."
"What do you care?" Shinju challenged. "You're nothing but a heartless shark! If there was a better profit in turning him in, you'd do it."
Ivan shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I meant it when I said I wouldn't go gracefully if I was a Vessel. Why should I protest if others rebel? The matter is complicated—too complicated for my taste, but so is most of life. My only real concern right now is breaking the curse that bastard put on me. Helping Raz furthers that goal. I won't take it lightly if you interfere. Good night, fish. Watch your backs."
They said nothing, and Ivan left them to whatever it was mermaids did in the dead of night because he had yet to see them sleep. Walking into the inn, he went into the main hall, brushing past the tables to bed down by the fire where he had already stowed his belongings. Laying out his bedroll, he wrapped his cloak around him and settled down to sleep, dreading the dawn that was only a few hours away.
*~*~*
"He acts drugged," Luka said, pulling Pechal's head back and around, frowning when he stared into his eyes. "It's like he's an empty shell or something. Fire and ash, I've never seen anything so creepy.
Ivan grunted in agreement as he wiped his hands off and swung back up into his own saddle. "He is, more or less. I've heard before the Vessels act funny once they're … once the High Priest casts his spell or whatever."
"You think he'll get better once they're out of Pozhar?" Ferapont asked.
"No idea," Ivan said with a shrug. "We won't find out if we don't get him back to the Heart, so let's go." He kicked his horse into motion and rode off, setting a steady pace, but nothing that would tire the horses out too quickly. There was a place where they could exchange them, but they had a couple of hours to go yet. He glanced at the clouds when he could see them past the trees, not liking the look of them. The very last thing they needed was a blizzard, but it looked as if they might be getting one.
Hopefully they would reach the Heart before it hit, and the Vessel hunters would get stuck wherever they were. Ivan dreaded running into them since they had to be close. It never took them long once the hunt began, and it had already been nearly a week. Ivan wondered what was taking them so long, but mostly he was grateful.
Their luck just needed to hold a couple more days.
He stretched out his arm, signaled quickly, and a moment later Gleb and Ferapont rode past him to scout ahead. They would be free of the woods soon and out on open road where they would have an easier time spotting potential problems—but it would also make them easier to spot. Better to be forewarned and keep to the woods a little longer if necessary. There were other routes, longer but worth it if it helped them avoid the hunters.
They rode for at least an hour before they finally broke free of the woods. Ivan called a halt and frowned. Gleb or Ferapont should have reported back already. Turning his head, he looked at Isidor and signaled him forward, ordering the others to remain where they were.
Back of his neck prickling, he led the way down the wide road, Isidor close behind but not so close as to impede them should there be a fight. They crested a hill—
And nearly ran straight into the Vessel hunters. Ivan swore and drew his sword because it was clearly far too late to run. "Go!" He ordered Isidor. "Get to the others."
Isidor did not linger to argue with him, no matter how unhappy the order clearly made him. He just turned and rode off, leaving Ivan alone to try and slow the band of twelve men down.
He saw in a glance what had become of Gleb and Ferapont, who were slung over their horses, bound with rope, and tethered to the horses of guards.
One of the men in the lead, whom Ivan thought was the High Priest himself, lifted a hand over his head, and then seemed to fling something toward Ivan.
He braced himself, but still went flying from his horse, the breath knocked out of him, and he had a sneaking suspicion his right ankle was twisted. Ignoring it, Ivan climbed gingerly to his feet, sword still in his hand—and found himself surrounded by six of the guards.
Though he tried to fight back, and got in a few solid hits, one man with a twisted ankle was no match for six fit, rested guards backed by two of the most powerful magic users in the kingdom.
They bound his wrists in rough rope and kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel as the High Priest and Lord Krasny approached. Ivan had seen Krasny before, though only a glimpse, but it was hard to forget a man who looked like a frozen flame.
"You are the one they call the Wolf," Krasny said. "I wondered if it was you when we captured your scouts."
Ivan's brow shot up because he could not imagine how in the Flames Krasny would know him, even by reputation. He knew he was well known, but even his arrogance did not extend to believing that a noble would know of him.
Unless, of course, Krasny was the one who had cursed him—but Krasny was the Royal Advisor, the second most powerful man in the country. Some said the most powerful, given that he was cousin to and best friends with the Tsar and Princess Sonya, though others argued he was third to the High Priest's second.
A man that powerful did not need to resort to mercenaries. "That would be me, your grace," Ivan replied, seeing no point in lying. "Did you require my services, then?"
Krasny's mouth quirked at one corner as though he was genuinely amused. "No, all I require from you is the location of the Vessel. He has been near you, that much I can see. He is close, I think. My men will find him if you are not willing to cooperate."
"I don't cooperate with anyone unless I am well paid for the trouble," Ivan said. "Let your men have their fun."
"Stand him up," Krasny ordered, and Ivan let the men haul him up only because his ankle was really starting to hurt. Krasny stepped in closer, stared at him pensively, and then stripped off one of his leather gloves. "Hold still," he ordered and splayed his hand over Ivan's chest—and almost immediately snatched it back. "There is something wrong with you. Holiness, come here."
The High Priest turned away from the men to whom he had been speaking. "Did you find out where ... " He trailed off, a look of deep concern overtaking his face. He met Ivan's eyes. "You've been cursed. How? Who?"
"I don't know, he blinded and paralyzed me with a strange light, then cast the curse," Ivan said. "How can you tell just by looking?"
"Feeling," the High Priest corrected. "The dark magic pours off of you, and it smells like fresh blood."
Krasny snorted and cast the High Priest a dry look. "I was going to say he felt corpse cold to the touch, though he does have an air of gloom about him. I have never known magic to carry a smell."
The High Priest shrugged, though he looked
amused himself. Ivan was very happy he could provide them with such fine entertainment. Nobles. "So are you going to do anything about it or just sit their chuckling at my expense?"
"My apologies," the High Priest murmured. "We must appear cavalier, but I promise we are not. I need to know who has placed the Kiss of the Basilisk upon you because that is not a spell anyone should still know. Even the worst of criminals do not deserve such a horrible death, and you are nowhere near the worst criminal I have encountered." He stepped in close while Krasny stepped aside and began to speak soft, sing-song words in the nobles' language—Ancient, Ivan thought it was called.
Ivan expected the High Priest to touch his chest the way Krasny had—and nearly fell on his ass jumping when, instead, the High Priest cupped his face and kissed him softly. Before he could pull away, however, blazing heat shot through him.
The High Priest drew back, and Ivan fell to his knees again, drawing ragged breaths and feeling as though he had finished off an entire barrel of cheap beer all on his own. When he could finally breathe properly again, he realized his chest no longer hurt. Fires, even his ankle no longer hurt. His hands trembled as he undid the laces of his shirt enough to see that the horrible skeleton was gone. "You got rid of it." He looked up. "Thank you."
"I am sorry that someone cast that curse upon you," the High Priest said, and bent to help him to his feet. His hands were warm and not the soft hands of a noble as Ivan had expected. "Can you tell us why it was done?"
Ivan hesitated, and then said, "Would you spare my men? We were dragged into this matter by force, and they don't deserve to hang for it."
"Contrary to popular opinion, we do not actually hang those who try to hide and protect the Vessels," Krasny said. "People have the right to defend their loved ones. The only persons hanged are those who commit extraordinary violence against others in the course of protecting them. We do not suffer murderers to live, but though you have a most intriguing list of crimes—if even half of what I've heard is true—you do not seem yet worth the trouble of executing. You're under arrest, and will be for a very long time, but the executioner has more important things to do right now."