by K. M. Shea
Alexsei paused as he considered the few times her actions had been inconsistent. Why would she place such importance on her clients and smuggling? It was one thing to insist on being excellent, but she risked her life—and the life of her people—over what was allegedly a shipment of contraband wine.
It contradicts her caring nature. How can she have spent four years trying to scare people away from Swan Lake to keep Rothbart from gaining more victims, and then risk life and limb to guard goods like a common thug?
“I must be missing something about her smuggling business.” Alexsei tapped his fingers on the wooden bench. “But it doesn’t matter. I could never ask her for more than friendship when her life is difficult enough the way it is.”
“Alexsei!” Yakov shouted from within the palace.
Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, for Yakov might still prove to be an issue.
Thus far, Odette had proven his concern to be baseless. But as much as he believed in her, he had a full-fledged parade of memories in which no one remembered him as soon as Yakov joined in.
“Alexsei! Where are you?” his brother yelled.
Alexsei sighed. “In the gardens.”
Yakov burst out of their parents’ study, marching straight into the gardens. “Excellent news, brother!”
Alexsei scraped himself off the bench. “Oh? What is it?”
Yakov grinned. “Father has returned! And he’s brought help—an enchantress.”
“What?”
“Hurry—come and meet her!” Yakov disappeared back into the study, Alexsei hot on his heels.
Together, they jogged through the palace—Yakov leading, as always—and hurried to the salon their mother used most often when receiving important guests.
Yakov threw the door open without knocking. “I found Alexsei.” He stepped aside, giving Alexsei his first look at the Lady Enchantress.
She was beautiful and surprisingly young. Most enchantresses and enchanters looked timeless, of course, but she seemed not much older than Alexsei himself—which he knew couldn’t be right as enchanters aged far more slowly than the average human. She wore a dress that sparkled and shimmered, turning from a fizzy shade of lavender to a deep sapphire. She was as lovely as dawn, but she seemed—as rude as it was to say it—tired. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her smile was thin, as if she had worn it out.
“Lady Enchantress, please allow me to introduce you to my sons—the Imperial Prince Yakov and Prince Alexsei,” Emperor Yevgeniy said. “Yakov, Alexsei, this is the Lady Enchantress Angelique. She attended the summit called by Prince Severin and Princess Elle, and she agreed to help us when she heard of our difficulties with Rothbart.”
“I’m afraid I’m only an Enchantress-in-training.” Enchantress Angelique’s voice was surprisingly husky but quite soothing. “However, I will do my best to aid you. I had heard of Rothbart’s activities before, but I thought the Veneno Conclave would send help. I apologize for the lengthy delay.”
“There is no reason for you to be sorry, Lady Enchantress,” Empress Sonya said. She seemed to have set aside her odd humor and sly remarks and was instead every inch an empress. “The matter was out of your control, and I must confess even we did not know what a boil Sorcerer Rothbart has been until recently.”
Alexsei drew closer to his father and whispered—so as to refrain from interrupting the conversation. “Welcome home.”
Alexsei’s father stood and embraced him. “Thank you, son.” He looked even more tired and worn than the Lady Enchantress, but his smile was genuine. “It seems you have been busy in my absence,” he murmured.
Alexsei grinned.
“You say he’s released a wyvern?” The Lady Enchantress’s question drew Alexsei back into the conversation.
Alexsei straightened his stance and pushed back his shoulders. “Yes, Lady Enchantress.”
Her smile lost its thinness and turned dazzling. “Please, Angelique is enough. I was told, Alexsei, that you faced the wyvern, and you believe Rothbart created it?”
“Yes,” Alexsei said. “He claimed as much previously, and it seems true based on its actions. I was with the swan smugglers when they drove it off. It was almost clumsy—as if it was the first time it had been free to use its legs, wings, and other abilities. Some things it knew naturally; others it was learning through trial and error.”
“That would explain why our soldiers could not defeat it—even after Odette and her people wounded it,” Empress Sonya said.
Enchantress Angelique’s expression grew cloudy. “It is not a good sign,” she said slowly, as if the words were being pulled from her.
“Would it have been better if it was a wild one he caught?” Yakov hooked his thumbs on his sword belt and exchanged worried glances with their father.
“Yes,” Enchantress Angelique said. “It is difficult to harness wild dragons and wyverns. It takes a great deal of power and many expensive spells that take a long time to produce—which creates a natural check. It makes it impossible for every dark wizard or mage to run around with a dragon under their command. But if Rothbart found a way to create wyverns…”
“I think he’s created just the one. Odette and her people are watching his castle. She can get in contact with Rothbart’s daughter, Odile, who can verify if he’s been making more,” Alexsei said.
“You’ve mentioned this Odette several times. Who is she?” Enchantress Angelique asked.
Alexsei smiled fondly, but Yakov beat him to the explanation. “She is the beautiful and fearless leader of the Black Swan Smugglers—a group of unfortunate folk whom Rothbart has cursed to be swans during the day and humans at night.”
“Smugglers?” Emperor Yevgeniy said. His normally tenor voice held a note of thunder.
Alexsei refrained from grimacing. While his father was a kind and generous emperor, he had very strict rules on the law. If Odette could ever be pinned down and forced to confess all the good her smugglers did, Alexsei knew his father would like her as much as his mother already did, but until he got to know her…
To his relief, his mother flicked his concern aside. “Peace, Yevgeniy. I’ve already had our intelligence network look into it.”
His father did not looked convinced—he still frowned and his eyes were stormy—but his silence said he would trust his wife for the moment.
Alexsei beamed at his mother, who winked at him.
Angelique furrowed her brows—making wrinkles as fine as spider webs. “I beg your pardon, did you say swans?”
“Like the Arcainian princes, yes,” Alexsei said. “Rothbart invented the curse that the witch used on the princes. His wife stole a copy of the spell and sold it to the witch.”
“I suppose that ties up one loose end. I always wondered where Clotilde found such a powerful spell,” Enchantress Angelique mused. “Now, unfortunately, it seems Rothbart is much more powerful than I expected. Creation spells—the kind of magic used to make that wyvern—take a great deal of knowledge and power. And why has such a blatantly dark wizard refrained so long from doing Kozlovka a great deal of damage?”
“Odette says Rothbart likens himself to a genius,” Alexsei said. “He seeks knowledge for the sake of having it. Apparently, unless a display gives him the opportunity to prove his brilliance, he does not care to use his hoard of power.”
“It seems this Odette is most knowledgeable of Rothbart. I believe I would like to meet her before I begin searching for the wyvern.”
“You will take care of the wyvern first, and then face Rothbart?” Empress Sonya asked.
Angelique nodded. “If Rothbart is as powerful as you say, then I believe I will likely need help. I will send out messages to several colleagues who attended the summit as well. They should still be in Loire and willing to lend me a helping hand.”
“Forgive my impertinence, Lady Enchantress, but shouldn’t you be enough? You are the most powerful rank of magic user there is,” Empress Sonya said.
Enchantress Angeli
que’s smile faltered for a moment—it was so quick, Alexsei wondered if he was mistaken in seeing it. “I tried to face Clotilde in Arcainia alone, and it went poorly. To avoid the same mistake—for I fear Rothbart is more intelligent than Clotilde and would likely build his defenses after beating me off—the wisest course would be to bring in allies.”
“Could we aid you in any way? Troops, perhaps?” Emperor Yevgeniy asked. “I do not wish to place this burden on you and do nothing to aid you.”
Enchantress Angelique shook her head. “Though it is kind of you to offer, it is best for those without magic to stay out of such a battle. I fear the losses would not be worth it.”
“I see.” Emperor Yevgeniy said. “I will call for couriers so your friends can be sent for immediately. It is a shame no war mages attended the summit—they would be immensely helpful in this situation.”
A polite smile settled on Enchantress Angelique’s lips. “Perhaps,” she said.
“How soon would you like to travel to Swan Lake to meet the smugglers?” Empress Sonya asked.
Enchantress Angelique set her eyes—which seemed to change colors like her dress—back on Alexsei. “You said this Odette and her people turn human every night?”
Yakov answered for him. “Yes—for the whole night.”
“Then we should set out so we can reach them shortly after the sun has set,” she said.
“As you wish. Come, Yakov.” Emperor Yevgeniy bowed his head and then opened the salon door—with Yakov at his side. He motioned for one of the attendants hovering in the hallway to approach them.
“In the meantime, could I interest you in some refreshments, Angelique?” Empress Sonya asked.
“Please—though I do not wish you to overly trouble yourself.” Enchantress Angelique stood—and her dress floated around her like a cloud.
Empress Sonya smiled serenely. “It is my pleasure.” She glided for the door, and Enchantress Angelique moved to join her.
Alexsei cleared his throat. “If I could have a moment, Lady Enchantress?”
Angelique raised an eyebrow in a manner that faintly reminded him of Odette. “I believe I told you to call me Angelique, Your Highness.”
Alexsei bowed. “I have an additional request for you.”
“Yes?”
“Odette and her companions—could you examine their curse and see if you could break it?” Alexsei asked. When Enchantress Angelique’s expression turned thoughtful, he added, “Odette has told me Rothbart is likely the only one who could break the spell—and that even his death would not remove it—but if you could…”
“I can certainly inspect it—though I will be the first to say I am not well-learned in countering curses. I have no knowledge of how to directly break or undo them, but I have grown better at modifying them thanks to the unusual events of the past few years. Unfortunately, I can promise nothing.”
The hope in Alexsei faltered. “I see.”
Enchantress Angelique smiled. “No need to be sad, though. There is no such thing as an unbreakable curse. If I cannot modify it, I can promise someone else from the Veneno Conclave can. Even if we are successful and slay Rothbart, Odette needn’t be a swan for life.”
Alexsei couldn’t stop the smile that burst from him—nor did he want to! Odette could be free! She could see her family again, and maybe—just maybe—she would be open to the idea of love. “Thank you, Lady Enchantress—I beg your pardon—Angelique. It would mean so much—thank you!”
Angelique’s smile turned soft. “It is my pleasure, my honor, and my duty.”
“Angelique?” Empress Sonya asked, peering back in the room.
“Coming,” Angelique said. She inclined her head to Alexsei. “If you will excuse me.”
“Of course. Enjoy the refreshments.” Alexsei watched Angelique glide from the room and clasped his arms behind his back. He wanted to jump, whoop, and run all at once. I cannot wait to see Odette when she learns her curse will soon be broken!
Odette wrinkled her forehead as she stared at the indecipherable scrawl that graced the parchment envelope. “Just this small bundle—from all of the wanderers?” she asked.
Shura held out the satchel containing twenty or so similarly addressed letters. “Yes. We made the rounds and met with every wanderer, offering to deliver correspondences with the ètonse philtre delivery as usual. This was all they had.”
Osip—Shura’s second and Zina’s older brother—nodded his affirmation.
Shura and Osip led Rapid Flight—who were the Black Swan Smugglers’ fastest agents. Dropping by the wanderers was routine for them.
Odette handed Shura the letter. “Alright. Wrap them in a waterproof canvas, and put them with the casks. Thank you—Shura, Osip—for your work. You made excellent time.”
“What’s our next assignment?” Osip asked.
“You’ll get a few days to rest,” Odette said. “Your squad has been away from home too long, and you deserve some time off. Also,” She hesitated. The wyvern had ruined several villages, some of which housed family members of several Black Swan Smugglers.
“We’ve heard of the wyvern,” Shura said. “I don’t believe any from our squad have family members affected by it, but we appreciate the extra time off all the same.”
Odette nodded. “Be certain to return to Swan Lake by dawn,” she warned.
“Of course.” Osip bowed slightly at the waist.
Shura wrung her hands. “Do you think Rothbart is up to something?”
Odette glanced across the quiet lake at Rothbart’s dismal, crumbling castle. “I don’t think—I know. What worries me is that he’s not following a normal pattern. By now, he should have come to us to gloat about the wyvern.”
“He hasn’t?” Shura asked.
“No,” Odette said grimly.
Shura and Osip exchanged worried glances.
Odette smiled. “Do not worry yourselves. Go; enjoy. When the final philtre casks arrive, we’ll deliver them to the clients, and then you’ll have a new assignment.”
“Thank you, Swan Queen.” Shura’s voice was warm with affection, and Osip nodded.
Odette swatted at them. “Yes, yes, now be off with you! And Osip, Zina wanted to speak to you before you two head home.”
The flight leader and second bowed to her—making Odette’s eyebrow twitch—and hurried down the lake shore.
Odette groaned and rolled her shoulders. She stretched her neck and glanced up at the sky. Something has to be done about that wyvern. But what? Nadia has tracked it for two nights, and said two squads of soldiers failed against it. What then, besides magic, could defeat it?
“Swan Queen.”
Odette almost jumped, and it took her two seconds to school her expression before she turned and bowed—in one graceful move—to the black-clothed assassin standing behind her. “Assassin,” she said—it was the only name the dead-fish-voiced representative ever gave her. “How can I be of service to your guild tonight?” Please don’t ask us to transport a weapon. Please don’t ask us to transport a weapon! Weapon transport made her feel like she was involving her people with murder. Thankfully, they had only asked such a request four times, and each time it was to retrieve daggers that were, in fact, magical artifacts—not those which had been recently used on one of the assassins’ targets. Still, there was always a chance.
“Our leader was most pleased with the artifact you successfully retrieved from Baris,” he said.
Odette kept her eyes on the assassin and wore a cloak of false confidence. “I thank you—although we deserve no such praise. We only provided transportation—it was a member of your venerable guild who gave us the dagger.” She was always eager to point out how minimal their role was in hopes that the guild would stop using them.
“Our leader believes otherwise,” Dead-fish-voice said. “He has provided a list of new transportation exchanges, and he wishes to reward you for your excellent service.”
Odette was so horrified, not a single curse word
came to her mind. “Really, it is unnecessary.”
“The reward will be monetary, unless you wish for us to use our… skills.” The assassin’s eyes flickered towards Rothbart’s castle.
Odette was about to vehemently deny his offer, when her thoughts stilled. If anyone could kill Rothbart without the use of magic it would be the Verglas Assassins’ Guild. Although she disliked doing business with them, there was no denying they were the best warriors in the Continent. She had considered asking them before—or even attempting it herself—but she had never come up with a plan that satisfied her. But, they were offering.
Such an action would make her and her people stuck as swans forever. However, if it saved the country from ruin…
She bit her lip. It would be asking a great deal of my crew, but if Rothbart releases more wyverns, it will take a magical army to defeat them.
“I will return in a week and will expect a reply then,” Dead-fish-voice said. “Our leader’s orders.” He held out a folded piece of paper, which Odette took.
The transaction complete, Dead-fish-voice glided towards the forest, disappearing almost instantly in its shadows.
Odette held the note and forced herself to walk to camp. She glanced at the list—it was mostly books or magical artifacts, thank goodness—and placed it in her ledger. She jumped when Misha placed a hand on her shoulder.
“The assassins?” he asked.
“Yes.” Odette finally allowed herself the luxury of shivering.
“I see. A scout reported catching sight of His Imperial Highness Yakov, His Highness Alexsei, Lady Benno, and an unknown lady of great beauty.”
“Let me guess, Iosif saw them?” Odette asked.
“Indeed.”
“Does Gala know about the ‘lady of great beauty’?”
“Not yet,” Misha said.
“Wonderful,” Odette grumbled. Gala was sure to pick a fight with Iosif when she caught the lad gawking at whatever lady Prince Yakov—it had to be Yakov; Alexsei wouldn’t inflict another royal person on her—was dragging through the forest. “Any stirring from Rothbart’s castle?”