by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney
“We’ve got a break until the fires burn out. We need to get out of this ditch and over that wall.”
Wolf shook his head as if to clear it. The firebird settled at the edge, chittering intently. Wolf waved one clawed hand, then swiped it down his face.
The fireballs had stopped coming, so whoever had been throwing them wasn’t doing it anymore. Soon the fires would die and the wendigo would come again. They were out of time.
Ivan wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to enclose Wolf in a bubble of air with him when he was so feral, but he didn’t see that he had much choice. He wasn’t even sure he could lift them up the side of the ditch using the air. He’d never tried to climb with the air cushion before. But he didn’t have another idea and they needed out of this ditch.
Wolf evidently wasn’t waiting for Ivan to make a decision. He stabbed his claws into the dirt and began climbing the straight sides. Ivan cocked his head. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
Using the holes created by Wolf’s claws, Ivan punched his fist into the wall of earth. He expected it to hurt, but it didn’t. The impact sang up his arms, but the shielding protected him. Wondering how much punishment the shield would take, he slammed his other fist into the soil.
It didn’t take long to climb up behind Wolf. At the edge of the ditch, Wolf stood studying the castle’s outer wall.
Ivan shook his head. They didn’t have time for this. The wall was about five meters tall. He could do that.
He pushed off, running across the three meters or so to the wall. His left foot hit, forward on the ball, just below his toes, at about hip height. He pushed, propelling himself upward, hinging himself so he bellied over the top of the wall. Planting his palms, he pushed up to kneeling and turned around so he faced Wolf. The wall was a meter wide, so he had plenty of stability now that he was atop it.
Wolf stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. He came to stand at the base of the wall, and Ivan bellied down, reaching with both hands.
They locked grips on each other’s wrists, and Ivan pulled. He rolled to the right, yanking Wolf up so he landed alongside him on the wall.
Ivan lay still for a moment, staring at the pale blue sky and recovering his breath. Beside him, Wolf grunted and rolled into a seated position. Ivan sighed and sat up, too, crossing his legs.
They both stared down at the space between the outer wall and the castle.
Gods-damn it.
The thirty or so meters of ground between the outer wall and the castle were completely covered in a mass of dark green vines.
The firebird settled on the wall on the other side of Wolf. She clicked her beak at them in warning. He didn’t need the warning. The vines might look harmless, but Ivan knew better than to make that mistake.
He stretched out a leg and hit his heel against the top of the wall. Dirt and small stones dislodged themselves from his boot, and Ivan gathered a scant handful. With a look at Wolf, he flung it out into the vines.
The vines reacted immediately, rising to find the threat. They moved fast, so fast Ivan could barely track the movement. He could see clearly that the vines were covered in spiky thorns that would rip and gouge vulnerable flesh.
Wolf huffed out an impatient breath. “Obstacle,” he growled.
The corner of Ivan’s lips turned up wryly. That was one way to put it.
The firebird clacked her beak more insistently. Ivan threw her an irritated look. He could see very well the vines were a threat. He didn’t doubt they were deadly. A man could be flayed to pieces by those vines.
Still. Vines were plants, and even magical plants usually shared certain vulnerabilities.
“Yes. Let me see if I can take this one,” Ivan murmured.
The continued threats had kept his magic near the surface. It didn’t take much effort to call frost into his palm. Weighing it carefully, he aimed at the vines immediately below them. It wasn’t clear if it was all one plant or if the vines were multiple plants. It didn’t really matter if they could disable enough to give themselves safe passage.
He hurled the frost magic into the vines. They shrank back from the leading edge before stilling. The coating of ice covered leaves, thorns, and vines.
The unfrozen vines reacted immediately, thrashing wildly, seeking the threat. Ivan noted carefully how far the tendrils of the vines reached, judging the range.
He threw another scattering of dirt down into the vines. The frozen ones didn’t move. Ivan smiled.
Wolf growled beside him, and Ivan reached out to rest a hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Not yet. I want to make sure the effect lasts long enough.”
Wolf bared his teeth.
“I know, but it will all be useless if we’re ripped apart by these vines.”
Another low growl greeted that statement, but Wolf settled back. He might not like it, but he saw the truth of it.
Ivan watched impassively as the nearest vines began to hit the frozen vines, breaking the ice covering them. It took some time, but not much. It would require a lot of magic to cross the distance.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
Ivan studied the castle, figuring the best path. There were two breaks in the castle wall he could see. The first to their right, was closer. An arched entry cut through the stone and led to a courtyard beyond. The opening was barred with a portcullis that looked to be iron and very heavy. Another opening, smaller, was on their left and further away. There was a shallow extension from the castle, surrounded by a wall. A walled garden with a wooden door into the castle.
He narrowed his eyes. Could be a trap. Probably was a trap. Still, it was a better option than the portcullis. There was no way they could get through that before his magic burned out and the vines got them.
Gathering magic, he filled himself with it, readying a reserve. This was battle magic. He hadn’t used his ice magic in battle in many years. It stung his fingertips.
One deep breath, then another. He turned his head, eyes meeting Wolf’s bestial gaze. “Do not outpace me. If you get ahead of the ice, the vines will take you.”
Wolf nodded.
“Ready?”
Another nod.
Ivan smashed ice into the vines below them.
“Now.”
He leaped down. Brittle with the ice, the vines crushed under his weight, pushing jagged icy shards into the soles of his boots. He ignored it, readying the next volley as Wolf landed behind him.
He began to walk. He hurled ice ahead of them, his pace steady but not fast. Throw, step, step, step, gather, step, step, step, aim, step, step, throw. He focused on the garden wall, moving toward it with single-minded intensity. His arms trembled with the effort of channeling the magic. He was on the edge of burn-out.
Ivan gritted his teeth. They would make the garden. He would not be defeated by fucking plants.
Step, step, step.
Finally, they were at the wall. Wolf grabbed Ivan and lifted him to the top of the wall, then scrambled up behind him.
They dropped to the garden side of the wall, and Ivan let himself slump, let the magic drain out.
His head clunked against the stone as he slid down to sit at the base of the wall. Behind him, outside the wall, he could hear the vines smashing the ice off themselves. It was a mildly terrifying sound. He drew his knees up and dropped his head forward. His muscles quivered and went lax. He wasn’t going to be getting up any time soon.
Wolf crouched beside him and the firebird landed a few feet away. She hopped toward him, tilting her head.
Ivan turned his head and met her gaze. Her eyes were not at all bird-like. He hadn’t noticed that before. He could see the cursed fae in those eyes.
She ruffled her feathers, then took off, straight up. Ivan was too exhausted to care. He needed to rest, to rebuild his magic, before they went on. If he tried to go in like this, he’d never make it past the first guards. He needed food, sleep, recovery. He didn’t have time for any of it.
Wolf tracked
the edges of the garden, checking for threats. He circled back around and sat.
“Door smells bad.”
Ivan nodded. Hardly a surprise. There would be a welcoming committee. If they decided to come out here and get them, Ivan wasn’t going to be any help.
For long moments, they sat by the wall. Finally, Ivan straightened, folding his legs under him. He drew a circle in the earth, then started drawing runes around the edge. He didn’t have earth magic, but the runes would help channel the soil’s healing power into him. He couldn’t draw much, but at this point, he’d take what he could get.
A flash of color and light caught his attention, and he watched as the firebird returned, landing just outside the circle. She was carrying two golden apples.
Ivan could have kicked himself. He had golden apples in his pack. Why hadn’t he thought to use their healing power?
He shook his head at his own idiocy. Stupid.
A tiny pull yanked his saddle bags from the magic. He opened one and fished out two apples. He held them for the firebird to see, then pushed the saddle bags back into the magic.
“Give them to Wolf.”
The firebird cocked her head then rolled the apples to her mate.
Ivan sat cross-legged in the center or the rune circle and bit into the first apple. He ate both in quick succession. The magic seeped into him. The aching muscles of his arms and legs quieted, then the exhaustion trickled away, replaced by a low hum of energy.
He dropped into a light trance, letting the apples and the earth refill his depleted reservoirs. Long moments passed before he heard Wolf pacing impatiently around the edges of the rune circle. Smiling slightly, Ivan opened his eyes.
“Yes, Wolf. I know. I’m ready now.”
He pushed himself to standing. With a quick prayer of thanks, he broke the circle then erased it completely. Looking around, he noted that the firebird was gone again and that the longer shadows indicated more than an hour had passed.
“Too long,” Wolf growled.
“Just long enough. The apples made it much faster. I appreciate your mate thinking of them.”
Wolf sniffed and stalked across the garden to the door. Ivan rolled his shoulders, loosening up after sitting for so long, then followed him.
Chapter Ten
‡
Wolf pressed himself to one side of the doorway while Ivan took the other. They waited, listening. He heard nothing, saw nothing, smelled nothing, but Wolf lifted his muzzle. Ivan trusted Wolf’s assessment. He tensed, firming his grip on his sword.
He raised a questioning brow and Wolf shook his head. He patted his muzzle with one clawed hand. Whether that meant he didn’t know what was on the other side of the door, or couldn’t tell how many, or something else, Ivan didn’t know. It didn’t matter. To get to Koschei, they had to go through that door.
Carefully, he insinuated a tendril of ice along the edge of the door. He found the iron hinges and wrapped them in cold, froze them down to the core. Moving along the frame, he found the latch plate and froze it, too. It took time, and Wolf was frowning impatiently by the time Ivan was satisfied with the brittleness of the metal.
Ivan smiled thinly at his companion before stepping well back from the door. Wolf’s expression changed to eagerness when Ivan began his run toward the door. He dropped low to spring through the door.
Ivan hit the center of the door with both feet, slightly staggered, lending the blow all of his fae strength.
The hinges snapped and the strike plate shattered completely. The door punched into the room, falling forward and hurling inward, until the door hit the floor. Ivan shifted his weight so he knelt on the door, using the force to skid the thick wooden plank forward like a sled into the room.
He didn’t wait to see what he was facing, but immediately threw a barrage of ice knives out, spinning to cover the room. As he whirled, still low, he saw Wolf coming through the doorway, and he took stock of the threat they faced.
The creatures weren’t natural. They seemed to be made of earth and slime, but human-looking bones showed through the black muck. These were the abominations Vasalisa mentioned. The creatures Koschei created by coating living victims in animated sludge that ate the flesh until there was nothing left of the victim except their skeleton.
His first volley had struck home, the ice knives hitting the monsters and creating blooming wounds of frost. The cold slowed the creatures, but didn’t stop them. They focused on him, moving toward the center of the room.
Wolf took advantage, striking one from behind and using his claws to decapitate it. The black sludge tried to stick to him, but slid off his shielding. If he hadn’t been shielded, the slime would have eaten Wolf as surely as it had eaten the other victims.
Ivan focused on the half dozen creatures approaching him. They moved jerkily, as if the force animating the skeletons wasn’t sure how to use the form it had.
He picked the one furthest from Wolf and attacked. Swinging the rune-chased blade, he sliced through the creature’s neck. Its head rolled off, but the body didn’t drop. Committed, Ivan reversed the swing and sliced through the torso, severing the spine. The body toppled back and the legs stopped moving forward, swaying in place as if uncertain how to proceed. Ivan didn’t wait to see. To his mind, if he incapacitated the things, that was good enough for now. He didn’t need to kill everything, he just needed to get to Koschei. When Koschei fell, his sorcery would unravel.
He leaped over the still teetering legs, landing in a low crouch behind the next creature. He rose, bringing his blade up between the thing’s legs, and cleaved it in half. The two halves separated, falling to the floor in a flailing pile. It wasn’t getting up.
Ivan kept moving. The creatures had shifted to face the dual threat of both Wolf and himself.
Ivan cleared his mind, dropping into that quiet, focused state of battle. His body moved in the fluid forms of swordplay, never staying in one place. These foes weren’t smart and they weren’t skilled, but they were dangerous. His best option was to get rid of them as quickly as possible.
He felt the flare of his shielding and the runes in his skin. An abomination raked clawed fingers down his side, but the shielding held. He finished the swing that removed one creature’s head and continued the spin, using the follow through to slice through the neck of the creature that had come up behind him.
In moments, none of the creatures were standing. Their parts moved restlessly on the floor, but none now stood between Ivan and the rest of the castle.
Narrowing his eyes, Ivan scanned the room, taking stock.
There had been a full dozen of the beasts, and he knew from the wounds that Wolf had taken out a third.
He turned his attention to his companion, assessing him. The white glow was so thin it was almost invisible.
“Your shielding is nearly gone, friend,” he murmured.
Wolf bared his teeth. “Doesn’t matter.”
No, it didn’t. They had to move forward. With a curt nod, Ivan moved to the door.
Surprisingly, nothing stirred in the hallway beyond the door. Surely Koschei hadn’t relied on only those creatures to stop them. Ivan frowned, scanning carefully.
He stepped out onto the white stones, listening for any sound. Still nothing. Maybe Koschei really was so arrogant he didn’t believe they would make it this far. Ivan smiled humorlessly. No one else had.
*
Vasalisa tried desperately to hold her body still. After calling Masha back and impatiently shoving her back in her cage, he had floated Vasalisa out of the room behind him.
Her last glimpse of her friend before the door closed showed the bars of the gold cage shimmering. It would take her some time to work the door mechanism, but Masha would be free before long and would render what aid she could to her mate and Ivan.
“You’ve been very bad, Princess,” Koschei crooned. “What shall I do with you?”
Vasalisa pressed her lips together. There was no good answer to that question
, and answering it would just increase Koschei’s enjoyment of her torment.
“No answer? I suppose that means it’s up to me. How lovely. But first we must deal with the small matter of these intruders. Impressive that they have come this far. The guvloi will most likely take care of them, but just in case, we should prepare a proper welcome, don’t you think?”
Vasalisa shook her head.
“No? It seems rude not to greet our guests. I’m going to have to insist. Really, my dear. I would have thought you’d be more interested in seeing who has come to your rescue.”
“Rescue?” If she said anything else, it would be a lie.
Koschei laughed. Vasalisa shuddered, swallowing the gorge that rose at the familiar, horrible sound. Koschei laughing was prelude to pain.
“You are amusing, Princess. Of course he’s coming to rescue you. Your silly aunt must know she can’t pay my tribute this year. Your brothers would, of course, try to rescue you. Really, it’s very impressive that they have come this far.”
Vasalisa blinked, grateful he wasn’t looking at her. There was no way she could hide her surprise. “My brothers have come for me?”
Koschei paused at the bottom of the tower stairs, turning to look at her. “Oh, no, dear. They wouldn’t risk coming themselves. Your aunt is still trying to gather the carrion ooze. She’s sending everyone out hither and yon to find the harpies.”
She stared at him. How did he know this? “What are you talking about?”
He smiled at her, a happy, eager smile. It was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen, because she understood the meaning. He was looking forward to being free of the constraints of the geas. He was anticipating her pain, her destruction. Oh, gods.
“It’s very simple, Princess,” he explained gently. “The harpies fled your lands when I sent the bisytsia after them. They are beyond the reach of your aunt’s narrow visions. Did you know she has handicapped herself? She worries I might be able to peer into her silly little court and see what she’s doing, so she plastered her rooms and the throne room with black amber.”