by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney
That was it. He was done with her. “No. She said my quest, not yours. You do not get to rewrite things to fit your wants. We will deal with that after the personal challenge. At this moment, I cannot think of restitution you can offer me that will appease the insult you have dealt and continue to deal. You have no remorse for insulting me and mine, and you are currently an impediment to my quest for my king. Choose now. Personal combat or reparations.”
She looked stunned.
He felt her push her magic out. It didn’t feel like scrying magic, it felt like enchantment. She had a secondary ability, but it wasn’t strong. It slid off the magic just above his skin, and he had a sense it was a persuasive magic. That might explain why the weaker sidhe in her court seemed not to notice her failings.
“Trying your magic against me will not budge me from my purpose. You must choose.”
She pouted. Even now, she didn’t take this seriously. She should fear him, but she did not.
“Marzanya, Stribog,” the queen said, not looking behind her.
“My queen?” They answered in unison.
“I want to be rid of this problem.” She waved a negligent hand at him. “Take care of it.”
Muscles in Stribog’s cheeks flexed enough for Ivan to see it under his thick beard. Stribog was doing some teeth gritting of his own.
“We cannot,” Marzanya told her coldly. “You have gotten yourself into this position. Fae law prohibits interference in personal combat. You know this. Until you decline personal combat and agree to restitution, there is nothing we can do.”
“Fine, fine. Restitution. Whatever. Just make it go away.”
At this point, Ivan had lost most of his fury, though the insult still burned in his gut. He simply could not understand this woman who was supposed to be queen. She had no respect for honor, no concern for consequences, and no real concern for her people. She would damn the fae to protect her own ego. It baffled him as much as it angered him. She needed to go. Not only because she was in his way, but also because she was simply a terrible queen. Not evil, not abusive, but just incredibly, stupidly, bad at being a queen. How had this even come to pass?
“Restitution is offered, Prince Ivan,” Stribog intoned, pulling his attention from the queen.
The formal words opened the negotiations.
“I am willing to discuss restitution,” he answered.
“Do you accept the Court Vizier, Stribog Stormbringer, as the representative of the queen in this matter?”
“I do.”
“Let it be recorded that Stribog Stormbringer will enter negotiations with Prince Ivan Frostbreather to provide restitution for the injury to his honor caused by Queen Alina Farseer.”
The scribe dutifully recorded the information and the court gave a collective sigh of relief.
Ivan nodded. “The second order of business is my legal claim to a copy of the prophecy spoken in this court in my presence. By fae law, I am entitled to a written copy of any prophecy affecting me spoken in my presence. Does the queen deny me this copy?”
Alina huffed out an annoyed breath. “No, go ahead. Have your copy. It makes no difference to me.”
“I appreciate your cooperation, Your Highness,” Ivan said, irony only barely tinging his tone. He really did not like this woman.
She flounced back into the throne. “If that’s everything, you can leave. You are more trouble than you’re worth.”
She was absolutely unbelievable. Ivan simply ignored her, nodding to Stribog and turning to walk from the room. He needed to call his father. Alina might have to send a messenger, but Ivan had other options.
*
Ivan used both mechanical and magical locks on his door. He didn’t want any interruptions for this.
He retrieved the spelled mirror from his travel chest and set it on the bed. After a quick check, he keyed the spell and pushed his magic into the mirror to activate it.
It took only a moment for the mirror to fog, and only a few moments longer for the center to clear and his father’s face to appear.
“Ah, Ivan. Good to see you, boy. How is it in the land of the Rus?”
Ivan shook his head. “It is good to see you, too, father. And it isn’t going well.”
Yddris frowned, his heavy white brows lowering over piercingly blue eyes. “No? Tell me.”
It was a relief to do so. He told his father everything, from his first meeting with Alina to the moment he’d left court to return here.
After he had recapped the visit so far, his father was quiet. He stroked his trimmed beard thoughtfully.
“This is not at all how I expected this to go. I would not have sent you alone if I had realized what a mess that court is in.”
Ivan recoiled. “I am sorry you do not trust me to handle it.”
“Oh, get over yourself, boy. Of course you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to, though. You’ve a bird to catch. The damned thing is still stealing my apples. And now with this prophecy, it’s clear you need to focus on that. What about this princess? What do you know of her?”
Ivan shrugged. “Nothing. I know she’s the rightful queen, but the current queen shipped her off with the sorcerer king as collateral for tribute. I don’t know if she’s smart enough to have done it to clear the way to the throne, but that’s possible.”
“She’s not smart, but she’s ambitious. Stupid and ambitious is a deadly combination,” Yddris rumbled. “What of the other, more powerful fae? Do they seem to align with Alina?”
“No. Stribog identifies as the Vizier of the Court of the Rus. He never says he serves the queen. None of the ones I met with seemed to have any love for Alina. There are brothers, but they swore not to take the throne.”
Yddris stopped stroking his beard and raised an eyebrow. “Brothers. Let me see if I remember. Hors, Jarilo, and Radegast if I have it right.”
“Hors? I have met him. He is powerful in his own right, and old.”
The king made a humming noise of agreement. “You might ask him about that. There might be some kind of binding in the oath they swore to the princess. That would explain Alina.”
“I got the impression the princess was young, since Alina was given the regency.”
“Yes. Dazbog got her off…you know, I don’t remember who her mother was. I do remember it was recently. I don’t think the princess is more than early twenties now.”
“That explains the regency bit, since she’s been with Deathless for seven years. Still, if she were betrothed, perhaps we could use the future husband as a lever against Alina?”
“No, no betrothal. The Rus have strange ideas about matches. They rarely marry.”
“That is strange.” Though he wasn’t ready for it, the promise of finding his match kept him hopeful. Just recently, he’d wondered about the dream woman. “It was a thought.”
“Not bad. You’re definitely learning. What are you planning to do now?”
“Negotiate with Stribog over the reparations. They’re going to sting.”
“As they should.”
“Is there anything particularly you would like from the Rus?”
“You said the entire receiving room is covered in black amber?”
Ivan nodded. “I’ve never seen the like.”
“I’d like some of that. It’s useful. I don’t suppose you’d want to marry the princess and unite the courts?”
Ivan grinned. “I don’t know. Is she pretty?”
Yddris snorted out a laugh. “I have no idea.”
“Sorry, father. I’m going to have to give it a pass.”
“Too bad. I think you need to gather more information about this sorcerer king, see what you can find out. You have strong magic of your own, and death magic doesn’t like magic such as yours.”
“Other magic in general doesn’t like my ice magic. I will see what I can learn.”
“Good. Speak with me before you leave there. Oh, and there are a few other things I’d like to include in the reparations.”
That was exactly why his father was king of the Northlands.
Chapter Four
‡
Stribog settled into the chair across from him, cradling a silver and glass tea cup in his immense hand. The tiny handle disappeared between his fingers, making Ivan smile. The Rus loved their tea, and he didn’t mind sharing the ritual of it, especially for negotiations.
“First, I appreciate that you gave our queen the option of reparations. Many would not have done so in your situation.”
Ivan nodded. “I would that it had not come to this at all.”
“Of course. Let us see if we can come to terms quickly.”
“It will need to hurt. She will not remember the lesson if it does not sting.”
Stribog sighed. “True. Where do you wish to begin?”
A smile tugged at his lips, thinking of his discussion with his father. “What is it they promise the prince in the human fairy stories? The kingdom and the hand of the princess in marriage?”
Stribog was not amused. To Ivan’s shock, he actually seemed to be considering it. He hadn’t anticipated that.
After a long pause, he finally took a sip of tea and shook his head. Ivan gave an inward sigh of relief. The idea of gaining a wife through barter sat ill. A wife should be honored, not purchased like a horse. Worse than a horse, since he’d never even seen the princess.
“No, that isn’t the way of our people. Even if you were to wed the princess, you would act as her consort, not our king.”
“Ah. Then we will confine ourselves to real property.”
Stribog tipped his head to the side and set the podstakannik on the table to his side. “Do you have something in mind?”
Now Ivan did smile, and this smile was the toothy grin of a predator. He knew exactly what he wanted.
“Many things. A bit of this, a bit of that.”
“And if not the princess, what does that encompass?”
“Why don’t we start with amber?”
Stribog’s bushy brows rose. “Amber?”
“Black amber,” Ivan confirmed, settling in for some real negotiations.
In the end, he had the black amber his father wanted, a more liberal magical visa, a king’s ransom in raw materials and worked gems, two magical weapons, and a sworn non-aggression pact.
Stribog negotiated for form, but Ivan knew the vizier agreed with him. The court was essentially paying for the queen’s life with this reparation.
“There is one thing more I desire,” Ivan told him, pleased with the outcome.
“More? Prince, you will leave us beggars if you take more.”
Ivan laughed at that. They both knew he could have demanded more. “This is in the way of information, not goods. I need to know more of the Deathless before I seek him out to take the firebird.”
“Hors should be the one to tell you this. He was there for the last battle.”
“Then, by all means, invite him.”
“Then we are agreed on the reparations?”
“We are.”
“I will have the scribe draw up the terms and be back directly. The terms will need to be presented to the queen and approved.” Stribog’s face set in grim lines. “She will approve it.”
Ivan nodded, accepting his assurance. “Shall we meet in the training hall?”
“Yes. I will join you directly.”
*
This time Ivan took one of the chairs. They were in the same room as before, and though the level of power in the room put him on edge, he got the idea they were being careful not to be confrontational.
In fact, he was fairly certain they were deliberately putting him at ease.
“The prophecy made the difference,” Ivan said flatly.
Marzanya smiled at him. She had very large, very sharp teeth. Looking at her smile, he was quite certain she could rip her foes to bits with those teeth.
“The prophecy confirmed our course. We would not have met with you yesterday if we had not already been considering aiding you. Other, more powerful elders, have given you their blessing.”
Ivan tilted his head. “To the fae as a whole, according to the prophetess.”
“There have been other portents, Prince Ivan,” Dobrokhot said, stroking his beard with one small hand. “The departure of the harpies, for one. Beasts and birds flee ahead of the Deathless. He is expanding his territory and confrontation is inevitable. Even in the human realm, my children cry to me of the devastation of their places, of dark abominations driving them from their homes.”
Ivan frowned. He didn’t know what that meant, but the nods from the others indicated it was important.
“If I am supposed to face the Deathless, I need to know more about him. Your people faced him in battle. How did he fight?”
Dobrokhot shifted in his seat, nodding to Hors.
“Once upon a time,” Hors began, “a fae enchantress ran afoul of a dark fae lord. He coveted her beauty and kept her for his own. Her family sought her, but the fae lord was clever and concealed her in his castle using black amber and magic. For decades, he had his pleasure of her, praising her beauty while he abused her. She hated him, her hate growing every year until it was a fire within her.
“Finally, her family sought aid from a rogue elder fae, offering her gifts and doing service for her in return for finding their daughter. The elder took pity on the family and sent the leshei to seek her.”
Ivan frowned. There were few beings he could think of who met the circumstances described. In fact, only one. She ate anyone who angered her. To seek aid from Baba Yaga was to court death.
He started to say something, but closed his mouth. Hors was still telling the tale.
“With the information from the leshei and help from the elder fae, the enchantress was saved, and her tormentor killed. As penance for the death and to demonstrate her gratitude to the gods for her deliverance, the enchantress chose to accept the child that was the product of her final time with the dark sorcerer. She hoped that bringing life and love from such an episode would balance things. She was mistaken.”
Hors stopped, brooding.
After a moment of silence, Stribog picked up the thread. “The child was the image of his father. The hatred in her heart flamed too brightly and she could not look at her son without seeing the father. She knew that keeping him would twist him irreparably. Immediately after weaning him, she sent him to his father’s family, thinking they would love him as she could not. They took him eagerly, but they warped him as they warped his father.”
Stribog ran a hand over his face, then dropped his hand to his lap. “Many years passed, and there came rumors to the Rus of a dark sorcerer to the east, one who used death magic and created unnatural beasts. He defeated the Evenki in battle and sent a broken sidhe lord to the Rus demanding our surrender.”
Hors took over the story again. “King Dazbog the Bright took his honor guard and a battle contingent and rode out to meet the sorcerer king. We were unprepared for what we faced. Though our archers put hundreds of arrows through him, Deathless did not die. I, myself, put a spear through his heart, and still he lived. He took hits from battle magic and continued to stand. He laughed, a sound I will never forget. He laughed and raised his arms. Undead soldiers and foul abominations rose from the very ground to attack us. The horses screamed, the very world trembled. The rotting earth took the king and half the guard. Knowing we could do nothing to save them, the rest of us broke and fled, returning to court.”
Dobrokhot hopped out of his chair and perched beside Hors. “There was naught else to be done.”
Hors shook his head, grief and impotent fury on his face. “Alina took the throne as regent then, sending my sister to him. My father and my sister lost.”
“Not lost,” Marzanya said softly. “The princess is not yet lost.”
“What will happen to the princess if tribute is not paid?”
The pain on their faces answered his question even before Stribog did.
> “She will die in torment at the hands of the Deathless. He swore not to kill her so long as the tribute came. Without the tribute, his vow will no longer apply.”
“After he kills her, he will attack the Rus and deal with us as he did the Evenki. As he did my father.”
“What is his true name?”
Stribog shook his head. “It is said he can hear his name spoken. Dobrokhot and I have a similar power, so I believe it is at least possible he acquired it.”
“Aside from that and animating the abominations, what other powers does he possess?”
“There is little we know for certain,” Marzanya answered. “We know his original powers are linked to death magic. He can speak to the dead and animate the dead. He can also pull souls, though we aren’t sure how that magic works. No one has survived an attempt. He has acquired the ability to create portals, though not within this plane. He can mold and shape dead beings, he can call the dead from rest, and he can form dead material into new forms. Otherwise, we don’t know. We think he can hear his name. We think he can cast illusions and shape shift. He may have other powers but not yet be able to control them.”
“Any scrying magic?”
“Perhaps. Our shielding has been compromised twice, but we don’t know if that is intentional or the side effect of some other offensive capability. Additionally, we know he has many powers he is unable to use because of his other magics. Though he may have souls which have those powers, he cannot access them.”
Ivan considered that for a moment. Knowing what Deathless was unable to do might be more useful than understanding all he could do. “What powers are those?”
“He can regenerate himself, but cannot heal others. His actual senses are compromised by the death magic. His sense of smell is particularly poor. He cannot perform sexual magic or fertility magic.”
“I don’t know that any of those are useful weaknesses. What else?”
Marzanya shrugged. “We just don’t know any more. There is one who might have more information, but it is very dangerous.”
Ivan nodded grimly. “The one called Bony Legs. Is it she who aided the family?”