“I don’t understand why people shun modern research,” Defiant said in German.
Three governesses, each waiting by the side of the desk, furrowed their brows, no doubt confused. They spoke Russian and some English and not a word of German.
“Defiant,” Geist said. “Will this take much longer?”
“It depends. I need to test it first.”
Geist tossed the button on the desk. It spun in a circle before landing near one of the empty bottles. Defiant squinted at it.
“It was Amalgam,” Geist said. “He was here.”
Defiant continued working, his eyebrows knit together.
Geist continued, “I need your help. I have to find Victory.”
“My help?”
“You’re the only one I know, and trust, to get this done. I can’t think of any sorcery that would find him, and I thought you might have some trick or clever idea to locate things. Or maybe you just know the enemy better than us.” Geist placed her hands on the deck. “You know Amalgam personally. Maybe that could—”
“I’ll do it,” Defiant interjected.
It took a moment for Geist recover. She asked, “What’s your plan?”
Defiant picked up the button and placed it in front of him. “You said you trusted me, didn’t you? Give me time. A few hours. I’ll think of something.”
Although she wanted to leave it at that—Defiant seemed sure of himself, after all—she knew they didn’t have the time.
“The Russian Empire is on the cusp of a revolution. Can you do this somewhere else? Alexander Palace isn’t safe so long as the tsar is here.”
“If the Russians allow us to take some supplies, then I can do it anywhere. But I need opals. And perhaps Battery’s assistance.”
Geist nodded along with his words. “I’ll speak to the grand duchess. Thank you, Defiant.”
He didn’t answer. He simply turned back to his work, his focus unparalleled.
“You have my full support,” Anastasie said.
Although the entire palace was up in arms, and there were soldiers with rifles at every door, the grand duchess had managed to find a small tearoom and clear it of anyone else’s presence. She held her cup with a delicate grace befitting royalty and sipped the hot liquid with a distant look in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Geist said. She pushed her cup away, not caring for tea as much as hard liquor. “We’ll leave as soon as Defiant has a remedy for your brother.”
Anastasie perked up. “Do you truly believe it’ll work?”
“Defiant can do amazing things with magic.”
“Fantastic. Papa has been agitated since arriving, but I know he’ll feel better once Alexei is well.” Anastasie placed her cup back on the saucer and then smoothed her white frilly dress. “I, uh…”
Geist stood. “Thank you again, Your Grace. But the instant Defiant is ready, we’ll be on our way.”
“W-Wait.”
Although Geist wanted to deny the request and leave the room without another word, she hesitated. The grand duchess had been nothing but helpful since their arrival. The least she could do is hear out her last request.
“Yes?” Geist asked.
Anastasie stared up at her with a furrowed brow. “What’s it like in the empire? Are all the citizens like the ones here in Tsarskoye Selo? Papa said that only the Bolsheviks were upset, but the people in the crowd… they’re not all Bolsheviks. Why are they so furious?”
“Well…” Geist rubbed at the back of her neck. What was she supposed to say?
“Don’t they know I’ve been trying?” Anastasie asked. She stood from her chair and shook her head. “We’ve all played our part in the war. My sorcery has been used to protect them since Papa joined the battlefield. And he’s led our troops into battle, like any proper tsar should. What more do they want?”
I don’t have time for this.
“I’m sorry,” Geist said. “I don’t have answers for you.” She turned to leave, and Anastasie took a few steps closer.
“You’ve traveled through the empire, right?” Anastasie asked.
“Yes.”
“I want to speak to the citizens myself. I want to know why they’re upset. If the Ethereal Squadron is heading for the ports to leave, perhaps you could escort me for part of your trek.”
Geist gritted her teeth. The last thing she wanted to do was protect a grand duchess while in the middle of an operation.
“I’m sorry. We can’t.”
“But—”
“We aren’t your Imperial Guard. Or even standard soldiers. We’re special agents. We have an operation to complete. I’m sorry, but this isn’t something we can do.”
Anastasie stared for a moment, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth, caught her words, and then glanced to the floor, caught up in a silent argument with herself. Royal House sorcerers often got their way; Geist knew that. She risked upsetting a powerful ally, but what else could she say? There was no way they could take her.
“Papa and Mama refuse to let us leave the palace,” Anastasie muttered, never looking up. “Despite my efforts to help, I’m trapped. The Imperial Guard won’t be my escort because, in the end, they’re loyal to Papa first and me second. I thought… since you’re the commander of your own squad… you could make a decision without consulting anyone else.”
Although Geist already knew the answer, she mulled over the comments. Not too long ago, it had been her trapped in her father’s house. Unable to leave. Unable to find the answers she craved. Anastasie’s plight was exactly her own.
But what am I going to tell the grand duchess? she thought dryly. Should I tell her to disguise herself as a man and join the Ethereal Squadron, like me? I don’t have any other solutions.
“It’s dangerous out there,” Geist said, grasping for any reason to dissuade her. “Especially with the revolutionaries. They’d recognize you in an instant. My team wouldn’t be able to—”
“I’ve seen the illusions.” Anastasie glanced up, pleading with her saucer eyes. “I know your squad could handle it. And they’d listen to you.”
“No. It can’t happen. You’re safer here than with us.”
“I don’t care about my safety. I care about the Russian Empire.”
Her voice heightened with each word, as passion fueled her anger. Geist didn’t want to argue with her—she wasn’t the grand duchess’s keeper—but here she was, telling her that some things were impossible.
Geist walked to the door and placed her hand on the handle. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” Then she left before the grand duchess could concoct another argument to go.
“We’ll never make it out of this accursed city,” Blick growled.
Even with illusions, it had taken them half an hour to make it through the crowded streets via carriage. Then another hour to find a place near Petrograd for Defiant to do his research. Every minute that passed was another minute Victory had to suffer at the hands of the enemy.
Blick stared out the window as it began to snow, his back to the rest of the dining hall. Battery, sitting at one of the long tables, organized his backpack with a single-minded look of determination, as though he would find his missing brother at the end of the clutter.
They were alone. Technically, the dining hall was closed, but Geist got them in regardless. She needed a space for Defiant to work, and she wanted to gather her thoughts before searching through the Russian Empire.
Dreamer sat on a wooden chair, writing his encoded reports. His hand trembled, and Geist couldn’t help but notice. Everyone was fraying at the edges. How long could they last?
“We can’t sit around,” Blick said. “We have too much to do, and we’re running out of time.”
“Defiant needs to find Victory,” Geist replied. “And for that, he needs time.”
“We still have to convince those Russian sorcerers to flee the country. House Solovyev and House Lungin are both here in Petrograd. Some of us should deal with that while Defiant is busy
.” Blick turned around and glared. “It’s the only way to get everything done.”
Geist crossed her arms and then uncrossed them. “Which house is closer?”
“House Solovyev, though House Lungin is in the same district. They’re both on the western estate, on the outskirts of town. Solovyev is closest to us, and Lungin is at the other end.”
She hated the thought of splitting up—especially after what happened to Victory—but she knew Blick was right. We are running out of time.
Then a thought struck her. Amalgam made it clear in House Kott. He was after her and no one else. So why did he take Victory? She already knew the answer.
To get to her.
She turned to the rest of the group.
“We’re going to finish the operation,” she said. “And listen. Victory isn’t dead. I have a strong hunch he’s going to be used as bait against us. I think, right now, the best thing to do is to prepare for our final flight from the Russian Empire.”
Battery glanced up. “What makes you think he’s alive?”
“Trust me,” she said.
“O-Okay. Then what should we do?”
Geist motioned to Vergess. “You and me. We’ll be the fastest if it’s just us. We’re going to these last two houses and we’re going to get them to flee the Russian Empire come hell or high water.”
“And the rest of us are waiting here?” Blick asked.
“That’s right.”
Everyone looked around the empty dining hall devoid of guards, walls, and weapons. The drafty hall had thick curtains for the windows and a large kitchen filled with giant pantries, but not many spots to hide.
“Alexander Palace was a place rife with confusion,” Geist said. “But with Defiant and Blick, nothing should confuse you here, not even that fleshcrafting bastard.” And Amalgam will be coming for me anyway. I’m sure of it. He’s going to dangle Victory around until I take the bait.
Vergess stepped to her side. “Then let’s do this.”
Twenty-Four
Revolt
The streets of Petrograd were clogged with people. Crowds upon crowds—filling the pathways from shoulder to shoulder—prevented any sort of fast travel. Geist and Vergess shoved their way through, but even that took time. Everyone was out looking for a fight. Even the slightest agitation caused a shouting match.
“I can ghost through the buildings,” Geist said. “And you can push your way through the crowd. We can meet up at the end of the street.”
Vergess met her gaze, his eyebrows knitted. “Why don’t we take the roofs? We can stay together and get a better perceptive of the rioting if we’re above it all.” He pointed to the multi-story buildings.
“Will it be faster?”
“You wanted to train your apex sorcery, right? Might as well run over the roofs at full tilt.”
Geist smirked and nodded.
They pushed their way to the ladders on the side of the building. Vergess hefted himself upward. Geist followed suit. Once on the roof, Vergess sprinted to the edge and leapt the few feet to the next building. He then turned around and motioned for her to follow.
Geist dashed and then jumped. She landed with an ease she hadn’t been expecting and attributed that to her apex sorcery as well. I really need to master this, she thought. Then she ran and made another leap, aiming to clear the gap between buildings with another effortless motion.
“Commander Geist,” a woman said, speaking straight to Geist’s mind.
The midair communication startle Geist enough that she landed and stumbled forward, but she recovered with the grace of a combat expert.
“Grand Duchess Anastasia has asked me to relay a message. She says her brother has felt well since taking the medication your team provided.”
Geist held still, intent on listening to the unspoken words. She knew Defiant would deliver. He had a way with magic, and if he thought he couldn’t handle it, he would’ve said so from the start. Which means he’ll probably find Victory. The one thought helped eased the mounting stress. Having dependable people on her team—whether they were combats or support—was comforting.
“Grand Duchess Anastasia would like you to return to Alexander Palace before you leave the Russian Empire, both to reward the Ethereal Squadron, and to procure more medication.”
Although she couldn’t answer, Geist shook her head. Could they afford to return to the palace? It would be a risk. I can deal with it later.
“Geist,” Vergess said.
She glanced up.
He stood on the next building over. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m coming,” she said as she ran and leapt to the next building over.
Vergess nodded once she landed, and the two of them set across the rooftops of Petrograd. Unfortunately, not every building was the same height. While they made good time through one block, the next required jumping down onto roofs with hidden dangers. Piles of snow obscured a stack of wood, which Geist hit and tumbled though. When Vergess glanced back, she got to her feet and waved it off. She wasn’t about to complain over a few scrapes. War in the trenches had been far worse.
When they made it to buildings several stories tall, Vergess effortlessly scaled them—gripping the bricks and windowsills and hauling himself upward. Some streetside citizens glanced over and marveled, but it wasn’t like his athleticism screamed magic. He could get away with his feats so long as he kept it in the realm of plausible.
Not that it matters much here, Geist thought. They all believe in witches and curses anyway.
Not to be outdone by Vergess, Geist forced herself up the wall. She could’ve used her specter sorcery to get inside and climb the stairs, but Vergess was right. Once she mastered apex sorcery, she would be an unrivaled sorcerer of war.
Like her father.
After Geist reached the top—her fingertips bleeding from the rough brick walls—they ran a few more houses before jumping down into a wide road and continuing toward the large estates that dotted the hills on the edge of Petrograd. House Solovyev was amongst the lavish homes.
The street was snow-covered and mostly empty. A few carriages rolled by, followed by a rare automobile. The run didn’t bother her, and Vergess hadn’t even broken into a sweat.
“You’ve been practicing,” Vergess said in German, speaking between controlled breaths.
Geist smiled and matched his pace. “Next time, I’m just ghosting through all the buildings. Probably would’ve beaten you here.”
He smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
Although she hadn’t meant it as such, she enjoyed the playful edge to his voice. “Maybe it was.” Vergess increased his speed. She matched it.
“I’m not the type that would allow someone else to win,” he said. “Even if they were my intended.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Running around a carriage and turning a corner, Geist could almost live in that one moment. But the realities of war refused to be ignored, even for a few seconds. The evening darkness, coupled with the cloud cover and groups of trees, made it difficult to see far, even though Geist could see through most gloom. However, the longer she inhaled, the most she tasted the char of burned materials.
Something was on fire.
A sickening sensation slid down Geist’s spine. The running kept her warm enough as they traveled, and her apex sorcery kept her from slipping across the ice. Vergess kept pace, his intense gaze set on the street ahead of them. Groups of Russian citizens gathered at corners, some shouting, others yelling.
After a short distance, the source of the burning became apparent—houses were on fire. Geist caught her breath as she dashed by one manse and then another. Flames, fueled by some chemical source, raged across the wood and cloth of gigantic homes. When people ran from the burning buildings, there were citizens waiting with Mosin-Nagant rifles, Russian military standard. Shots were fired, even at children.
Geist slowed her run and almost jumped the fences to stop what wa
s going on, but she knew she had to make it to House Solovyev without delay.
Military rifles? Mass burnings? What’s going on?
Vergess motioned to her as he ran by, and Geist resumed her run. The long road between estates would’ve best been traveled with a horse. She felt no fatigue as she pushed herself to the limits of her sorcery, though magicless men and women pointed or stared.
“There,” Vergess called out.
House Solovyev sat in the distance, a great pillar of smoke rising from a bonfire bursting out of the manse’s windows. Angry citizens stood nearby. Some pointed, others scowled, but none moved to douse the flames or offer aid.
Corpses littered the front yard. Most shot. Some burned. All mutilated.
Without waiting for Vergess, Geist shrouded herself in specter sorcery and ran across the massive lawn to the manse, avoiding the bodies of Solovyev sorcerers. She ghosted through a wall and entered the dining room. Fire blazed throughout the room, the smoke snaking up the wallpaper and clouding at the ceiling. Geist covered her mouth with the collar of her tunic and glanced around.
More bodies littered the floor. Not charred bodies or people who had passed out from smoke, but bodies riddled with bullet holes and deep lacerations. Pools of crimson spotted the white carpets, and as Geist made her way to the opposite wall, the sick squish of her footsteps disturbed her more than the fire.
This wasn’t Amalgam and the Eyes of the Kaiser. They wouldn’t have left the blood. This was the Russians outside. The Bolsheviks? Revolutionaries? She shook her head. It doesn’t matter. I need to save anyone I can.
Geist dashed through the house until she came to a library far hotter than anywhere else. The moment she ghosted through the door, she cringed back into the hall. The heat—it felt like boiling water splashed across her body—and then the sensations became an icy numbness, something Geist had never experienced before.
A Company of Monsters (The Sorcerers of Verdun Book 2) Page 20