by K. M. Shea
When it turned and nosedived, everyone jumped for cover. Kira retreated to the trees, Nadia slid under a stone bench, and Odette, Alexsei, and Feofan took cover at the pavilion.
The creature unfurled its wings, and Nadia threw a spear—tearing its other wing. Kira shot two arrows at it—one barely missing its open mouth, another pinging off its jutting brow-bone.
The wyvern roared and tried to land, but Feofan abandoned his hiding spot and dove under the creature, swiping upwards with his axe. His blow sliced open the creature’s hide, but the wyvern grabbed him with its hind feet and threw him into the pavilion with a sickening crunch.
“Feofan!” Odette shouted.
Kira landed a bolt in the wound Feofan had opened up, making the wyvern roar. Nadia tried to copy her, but the wyvern covered its chest with its wings and used its curving arm-like bone to block the spear.
Odette snatched up the sopping wet rag someone had been using to clean dishes. “Alexsei, pull Feofan into the woods. Kira and Nadia, attack its chest wounds. I’ll distract it!”
“Odette, don’t!” Alexsei shouted.
She ignored him and ran towards the roaring wyvern. We need to end this. Feofan had opened a way for them to take the creature down, but they were going to lose if the fight lasted much longer. Odette was almost all out of daggers, Kira was likely almost out of arrows, and Nadia was down to her last spear.
There was no possible way they could win, but if they injured it badly enough and fled for the forest, it would probably ignore their camp—and the casks of the ètonse philtre—and fly off to nurse its wounds.
The wyvern saw her coming and opened its wings to leap for her. It snapped its teeth, and Odette felt its hot breath brush her clammy back, but it missed her. The motion left it wide open for Kira—who lodged a second arrow in its chest.
It turned in her direction, but Odette threw a rock at its face. When the wyvern swung around to face her again, she threw the wet towel at it and ran.
As she’d hoped, the wyvern spat a wad of green acid at the wet towel hurtling toward its head. The towel was too close. Instead of instantly disintegrating, it hit the creature in the face, spattering the spitty acid all over the monster. The wyvern howled and hissed, clawing at its head. When the beast finally shook free of the towel, it wiped its face off on the ground with a snarl. Its wings beat rhythmically, and the wyvern flew higher and higher, fleeing across the lake. It sailed past Rothbart’s castle, caught higher winds, and soared out of sight.
Odette dragged her fellow fighters to the woods where they treated Feofan’s injures and waited to see if the wyvern would return.
It didn’t.
Odette sent Kira after the other smugglers and tried to help Nadia with Feofan.
Alexsei—chased away twice already—leaned against a tree. “It strikes me as rather odd that the wyvern is vulnerable to its own acid.”
Feofan laughed. “Misha will be interested to hear that.”
Odette glared darkly as she finished wrapping his wounds. The wyvern had given him some nasty gashes around his ribs with its talons. Likely the only reason he hadn’t died from cracking his head on the pavilion was his spell-gifted resistance.
“Sorry,” Feofan said meekly when he saw her glower.
“You took an unnecessary risk,” Odette said.
“Maybe, but it helped us drive him off, didn’t it?” Feofan asked.
She clenched her hands into fists.
“You cannot strangle him,” Nadia said. “Or all our work at fixing him will be for naught.”
The attempt at humor didn’t ease Odette’s tension, but she pretended it did for their sakes and smiled falsely. “Wise words, Nadia.” Internally, her emotions still boiled. It’s not only Feofan’s fault. I should have come up with something more quickly. He’s my responsibility—they all are.
“Why did you decide to take on the wyvern anyway?” Alexsei asked. He ventured out to the shore and began retrieving some of Odette’s daggers.
“He was going to destroy a shipment of goods we’ve been hired to smuggle,” Odette said.
Alexsei dropped the dagger he had just reclaimed. “I beg your pardon? You risked your necks for goods?”
Odette discreetly adjusted the neckline of her shirt—their smuggling signal for “don’t talk.” “We’re smugglers. If we can’t deliver our goods, our clients won’t trust us.”
Alexsei gaped at her. “I don’t believe it.” He shook his head and went back to searching for her daggers. “You care too much about your people to risk them for paltry merchandise.”
Behind his back, Nadia nodded in agreement.
Odette narrowed her eyes at her and shook her head. “Believe what you want, then. Why else would we have staked our lives?”
Alexsei squinted at the white boats stocked with casks of philtre with far too much interest, so Odette hurried to add, “Shouldn’t you return to Tsona now?”
He turned his gaze so he squinted at the lightening horizon. “I’ll wait ’til the rest of your people come back. It’ll be dawn soon—I want to make sure you’re all here.”
As if his words had opened the floodgates, Misha exited the forest. “That is the last time I lead the lot of you ruffians!” he declared.
“Believe me, Twinkle Toes, we didn’t exactly have a great time either.” Anna rolled her eyes, but her expression brightened when she saw Odette. “Odette!” She pushed Misha out of the way so she could run to her.
Odette let the young girl throw her arms around her and patted her on the head. “Thank you, Misha.”
Misha nodded.
“You engaged the wyvern?” Gleb asked.
Odette nodded.
“And?” he prodded.
“We chased it off. I don’t know if it will return, though, so today we’re transforming and staying in a tributary river instead of on the lake itself when we turn into swans,” Odette said.
Gleb nodded. “A wise decision. What will we do about the wyvern?”
I don’t know.
Misha poked some of the wyvern’s acidic spit with a stick. “We need a plan.” He gazed at Odette. “What do you have in mind?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Her mind was blank, and she was silent for a moment.
“Odette?” Misha prodded.
Anna’s grip on her grew tighter, and the smugglers quieted down and stared at her, waiting for her answer.
Nadia stepped out of a huddle and stood at her side. “What are your orders, Swan Queen?”
She had no answer. I’m responsible for them. I’ve been the leader since the day Zina and I were cursed. No matter how dire things had seemed, she’d always been able to think of something. But right now, she couldn’t think of anything except for how frightened she was and how much she wished she was home with her family. What is wrong with me?
Frantic, she sifted through her thoughts for anything useful. Her heart pounded with the memory of the wyvern fight, and her palms were clammy. I must get over this fright and move on. This was her fault. As soon as she knew the wyvern existed, she should have prepared for something like this. Now, it was too late. She’d failed. She needed a new plan. I have to protect them, I have to—
She strangled her panic as it threatened to choke her, and she smiled at her companions. “I’ll think it over. Before we turn into swans, I’ll have a plan in place.”
The tension and anxiety dissipated as the smugglers nodded and exhaled in relief.
Anna smiled. “That’s our leader.”
The comment stabbed Odette straight through like a sword. She cleared her throat and grabbed for something—anything—to say. “For now, Lake Guard start cleaning the camp. Far Flung Flock, take our boats downstream so they are hidden in the woods.”
A few smugglers playfully saluted her, then ran off to heed her orders—Anna with them.
Odette meandered to the fringe of their group and slipped away, unnoticed. She followed the shoreline north, driven by the need to get
away. I need to compose myself; I need to fix this.
She walked until the smugglers’ conversations were distant murmurs, nearly drowned out by croaking frogs and singing crickets.
She crouched at the lake’s edge—so close that the water lapped at the toes of her boots—and hugged her knees to her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she closed her eyes and tried to hold back the storm of tears that threatened to swamp her.
“Odette?” Alexsei’s kind voice was almost her undoing. He spoke her name like a wish.
Go away. I don’t deserve compassion right now. She waited several heartbeats until she was certain she could speak without crying. “Yes?”
Alexsei stood in front of her, getting his boots wet. “You did well against the wyvern.”
The false statement almost made her burst into tears. “No, I didn’t. I’ve had three days since we found the wyvern. I should have taken countermeasures against it immediately. I knew Rothbart wouldn’t leave it chained in his castle forever. I—” She coughed to force herself to stop talking. She waited until she was under control before she spoke again—using a brisk tone and a brief smile. “Everyone is here, so you should return to Tsona.”
Alexsei tilted his head. “You’re in pain.”
Curse his skills of observation! Odette raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.” Two tears dripped from her eyes. Though her expression was calm, she couldn’t stop the tears, and her eyes traitorously persisted in leaking.
She scrambled to stand, laughed, and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, it must be from when the wyvern raised all that dust.”
“Odette…” Alexsei encircled her with his arms and drew her close, tucking her against his chest. He was wonderfully warm, and his hug was unyielding. It felt like he was holding her together. “You can cry. You don’t have to be strong for me.”
Odette did her best to put ire in her voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When he rested his head against hers, her shoulders began to shake, and her tears came faster. She released a startled hiccup-sob.
“Cry. You’ll feel better.”
“I’m fine.”
She tried to wriggle, but Alexsei’s gentle hug held her anchored in place. “It’s not a sign of weakness, Swan Queen. It’s a release.”
Odette finally gave in and let herself—for the first time in four years—cry, shoving her face into the prince’s warm shoulder.
After a few minutes, he adjusted his grip on her waist and whispered, “This was not your fault, and you don’t have to do this alone.”
Odette’s tears slowed to a trickle. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Rothbart, the wyvern, all of it. You can ask for help.”
Odette tried to pull back, but he still wouldn’t let her go. She leaned back so she could at least meet his eyes. “And what do I ask?” Odette knew her tone was scornful, but she couldn’t help it. I wouldn’t be making all these sacrifices if the alternatives weren’t so horrible!
“I see what you mean, but you don’t need to take everything on as a personal burden.” Alexsei kept his voice gentle. “It’s a danger of being a leader. I’ve heard my father speak to Yakov about it countless times. It’s hard not to blame yourself for the calamities that happen to your people. However, no matter how much you prepared and planned, the wyvern’s attack is not a result of a personal defect in you. The blame lies with Rothbart.”
“Yes, obviously the wyvern is Rothbart’s fault. But if my people had been prepared—if I had taken the time to put some sort of plan into place—Feofan might not have gotten hurt,” she argued.
“I doubt that,” Alexsei said. “If your soldiers are impulsive—like Feofan—they’ll still do some foolhardy things. In this case, you must admit that the risk he took is what allowed us to drive the wyvern off.”
Odette frowned at him. I hate it when someone can prove there is a flaw in my thinking. Why do I like him again?
“While we’re on the topic,” Alexsei said.
“But we’re not—not anymore!” Odette tried to disentangle herself from his grasp again. She succeeded in making him take a tottering step, but he still didn’t let go.
“You should depend upon Misha and Nadia more,” he continued.
Odette’s frown turned into a scowl. “I already depend on them.”
“You can ask them to do more. Nadia worries about you, and Misha suspects it is too much, but he feels disloyal for questioning your abilities.”
Odette raised an eyebrow. “And how did you come by this information?”
Alexsei offered her a look of warmth. “I asked them.”
She sighed and stepped away immediately when he finally released her. “Their concern is touching.”
“But you aren’t going to make them do anything more,” Alexsei guessed.
She flipped her wild hair over her shoulder, trying to appear apathetic.
“You care about them and are worried something would happen to them.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you have this strange desire to set me up as some kind of martyr, but you need to stop. I am a smuggler. I care about one thing: profits.”
“Why do you speak such lies about yourself?”
Because if I don’t, you’ll see why I’m really doing it. Because pretending to be a self-centered brat is better than leading them to hope in me more than they already do, and then failing them.
“You have a kind heart, Alexsei. It speaks more of your nature than it does of mine that you think you see such goodness in me.”
Alexsei stared at her—the slow, thoughtful expression that made her fear he was peering straight into her soul. Slowly, as if he were afraid she would flee like a startled deer, he brushed his fingers against her jaw, and then cupped her cheek. His touch was softer and strangely more intimate than his warm hug. He swallowed sharply. “Odette…”
“Swan Queen—I was told to come tell you that Far Flung Flight successfully moved the cargo—oh, I apologize.” Anna sounded embarrassed for all three of them.
“It’s fine, Anna. Thank you for the report.”
“Yep.” Anna fled, stumbling on rocks as she hurried away from them as quickly as possible.
Odette chuckled—her equilibrium restored—then grinned at Alexsei. “You really should return home. Empress Sonya will be worried—especially after receiving word of the wyvern. Moreover, I can’t imagine all these short nights make it easy for you to fulfill your role as prince during the daylight.”
Alexsei stared at his boots, and Odette wondered if her brutal conversation-reroute had hurt his feelings. “Alexsei?”
She was contemplating reaching for his hand, when Alexsei lifted his gaze and smiled. “You manage with such a schedule,” he said.
“Yes, but I’m a swan during the day—which isn’t exactly taxing,” Odette said.
“I see your point—though I suspect it might be more stressful for you today. You’ll watch for the wyvern?”
Odette nodded. “If we see it again, I’ll send someone to the palace as a swan—so please tell your archers to refrain from shooting at him or her.”
“I spoke to them the day after you told me Swan Lake had become a swan sanctuary. No one has shot at a swan since,” Alexsei said.
Odette tilted her head. “Really?”
He nodded.
Odette’s smile shrank, but burned with real warmth. His words made her happy. Even before he knew we were cursed to be swans during the day, he stopped it because someone asked him to. That’s the kind of person he is.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you.” She hesitated, then offered him her hand. “Come, I’ll see you off.”
Alexsei’s smile broadened, and he entwined his hand with hers. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Don’t think too deeply of it,” Odette advised. “It is more to make sure you really leave this time.”
&nb
sp; Alexsei laughed. “Very well, I shall follow your instructions and return to Tsona.” He cast a glance at the lake as they started walking towards the other smugglers. “Are you sure you don’t want me to send any guards?”
“Positive. And don’t visit tonight. I imagine Rothbart will come to us so he can bask in his superiority. I don’t want him getting a sniff of you.”
“As you wish, Swan Queen.”
Chapter 8
The Lady Enchantress
Alexsei stared at his hand and sat on a wooden bench beside the garden fountain Odette had used to transform. It had only been a few days prior, but it felt like ages. The wyvern hadn’t returned to Swan Lake, but reports poured in from neighboring villages. It had plundered and pillaged a sweeping path of destruction. Two squads of soldiers had already faced it—and lost. The longer it was free, the craftier it seemed the beast was becoming. The tricks Odette and her crew had used against it no longer worked.
Alexsei flexed his hand—still staring at it in wonder as he remembered Odette’s warm hand in his.
I care for her greatly. I have long known I am smitten—as Mother would say—with her…and I think I could love her. But I don’t know if she would ever learn to love me. He sighed and squinted up at the sky.
He wanted to love Odette—everything in him roared out for her. He knew she was a kinder person than she set herself up to be. Alexsei saw through her self-centered guise—she used it to cloak the supreme sacrifices she had made. Anyone even fractionally as selfish as she claimed to be would have left the three of them to fend for themselves in Rothbart’s castle, but she had risked her life and come.
It was the knowledge of what she dealt with on a daily basis that held him back. Cursed by day, and bearing more responsibilities at night than Alexsei had faced for most of his life…how could he ask her to accept him—a spare prince whose greatest skill was that he was well liked? He was confident that she actually saw him—the real him, not the title or his family. But what did she care? She had smugglers to provide for and a sorcerer to outwit. The promise of a title would mean nothing to her. A person like Odette sought to make the biggest difference, not to take the least-painful route.