by Jane Kindred
“Your left eye is perfectly whole.” I laid my hand against his cheek and he flinched. “The skin you’ve kept covered has no scars.”
He shook his head and turned away, unable to accept what I was saying, determined to hide his face. “You gave me to her,” he said after a moment.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Those were her terms. She would leave Heaven, never to return, if I let her try you in the Midnight Court. I don’t expect you to forgive me—”
“Forgive you? For what? For wanting to hurt me finally, after all? For hating me?”
“I don’t hate you. And I didn’t want to hurt you—”
“Of course you did. For the love of Heaven, Nazkia, of course you did.” He met my eyes, and I couldn’t lie again. “And you had every right. But what I cannot understand, what I cannot forgive, is punishing Azel.”
I bit my lip to hold back tears. “I’m not punishing him. This is the only way to keep him from Irkalla. He’s safe in the Unseen World.”
“How can he be? How can he be safe with her?”
“She’ll be kind to him. The syla have seen it. He will be adored and cared for. He may even forget where his life began.” I had to make him understand. “I couldn’t leave him with Helga. And I couldn’t do what had to be done by the laws of Heaven.”
He frowned at me, unconvinced. “What about Azel Helisonovich? He cannot want this.”
“My brother was dying.” I brushed at the tears I could no longer stop. “He wouldn’t have lived another year. Aeval will give him a life he could never have had. He can run and play, and ride horses without fear of injury or overexertion. He can be a child—and he can grow up. I only hope he’ll forget us all.”
Kae sighed heavily and gave me a reluctant nod. “And who am I, now?” he asked after a moment, as if speaking to himself. “What am I to do?”
“You are the field marshal of the queen of the Firmament—”
“By all the Heavens, Nazkia!” He leapt to his feet and paced away from me, as if resisting the urge to strike me. “Enough! That game is over.”
“It’s no game,” I protested. “Why must you be so difficult?”
“Why must I?” He laughed sharply. “You’re impossible. You think I’m your childhood playmate, for Heaven’s sake, that nothing has changed—”
“Everything has changed!” I rose and crossed to where he stood glaring defiantly at me out of an eye he imagined he didn’t have. “Yes, you were my playmate. You were my cousin, my brother, and my dearest friend, and I never stopped loving you, not even in the darkest moments.”
Kae flinched but held his challenging stance. “Your foolish sentiment aside, that man is dead.”
“Yes, I know he is. But it doesn’t matter.” My heart beat painfully in my chest. “Because that was a child’s love. And I’m no longer a child.”
It took a moment for him to grasp, but the dawning comprehension was almost comically visible on his face. The color drained from his cheeks and his mouth dropped open, his eyes so wide it had to hurt.
And then his mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed before he stepped forward and slapped me. “Don’t you dare.”
I gripped my cheek in surprise, now burning with much more than girlish embarrassment, and gave him back his own defiant glare. “You never answered me that day in the rain outside Elysium: tell me you don’t love me, then. Go ahead.”
His fists clenched at his sides and he moved away from me, shaking his head in angry amazement. “You’re beyond impossible. You little…brat.”
I laughed in astonishment. “Am I twelve? Bozhe moi. You’re the one who’s being a child. I love you. Tell me you don’t love me back.”
“Stop saying that!” He charged toward me and grabbed me by the arms as if he’d shake me like the insolent child he professed me to be. Whatever he saw in my eyes gave him pause. “Damn you, Nenny,” he whispered, then gripped me tightly and kissed me as if compelled.
I slid my arms around his neck, trembling with relief, and melted into him, the soft spark of aether on his lips tingling like absinthe before he pulled away. For a moment, I feared he’d thought better of the impulse, but Kae was blinking rapidly, an odd expression on his face.
“There’s something in my eye.” Tears welled in the eye he imagined gone, and something glistened in it.
I reached up and caught the moisture poised on his lashes with the tip of my finger. Sparkling with the sharp, crystalline facets of a piece of ice or a sliver of glass, it resolved itself into a drop of dew, like the glittery substance that had fallen on us in the Midnight Court, and vanished.
“Oh.” Kae clutched his chest, and for a dreadful moment I feared I’d lose him after all. “My blood. It feels…warm.” He blinked again. “And I can see you clearly.” He covered his right eye, staring at me. “I thought it was gone,” he whispered in amazement. “I thought the eye was gone.” He lowered his hand and reached to stroke his fingers through my curls, regarding me with wonder. “Everything has been so dark and muddy. Look at you—my little Nenny. You came for me in the depths of hell.”
Misha took us to say good-bye to Azel before we left the Unseen World. Through one of the doors in the mirrored corridor I’d seen on my last visit, we stepped out onto a wide-open, rolling lawn of green. Unlike the garden hall in which I’d once spent time here, it appeared to have no walls, only arches that seemed to float in the air, leading to other halls.
Dressed once more in his field marshal’s uniform, with pants tucked into the tall, glossy boots and the woolen frock coat swinging about them, Kae walked beside me. Misha had given him a patch for his cloudy eye, and he now wore this instead of the heavy mask he’d hidden behind for months.
There were stables on this lawn, and here we found Azel standing on the base of the carved wooden demi-door, his elbows perched on the top of it, looking in as the leshi stable hands groomed the horses.
He turned his head at the sound of our approach and surveyed us with interest. “Hello.”
I smiled. “Hello, Azel.”
“The other pretty lady said I can ride any horse I like. But not all by myself. Not until I’m bigger.” He frowned. “Have you come to take me to the other place?”
“No, sweetheart.” I touched his arm lightly. “You may stay here as long as you like. Do you like it here with Queen Aeval?”
“I like horses.” He turned back to watch the groomsmen.
Kae spoke unexpectedly. “I like horses, too.” He looked surprised at the sound of his own voice.
Azel glanced up at him. “You’re the man with the funny mask.”
“Yes. I threw it away. I didn’t need it anymore.”
I took Kae’s hand, and he held tightly to mine as if in need of courage.
Azel studied his face with a solemn look before turning to me. “Where’s Ola?”
“Ola is with her papa and Beli at home. We’re going to see her now.”
“She has two papas,” he observed. “I haven’t any.”
Kae looked pained.
“Perhaps you do.” I bent down to Azel’s eye level. “Perhaps you have a papa who loves you very much but cannot be with you.”
“Like my mama?”
Kae’s nails dug into my hand as he clung to it.
“Yes, Azel. I’m sure of that.” I kissed the top of his golden hair and cupped his cheek. “Good-bye, Azelly.”
He stared up at me a moment. “Good-bye, Nenny,” he said, and turned back to watch the horses.
As we walked away, Kae still clutched my hand as if his life depended on it. “I don’t want to leave him.”
“I know.” I squeezed his hand in comfort as we returned through the nearest arch and found ourselves in the amber-encrusted Hall of Echoes—the veil between the Unseen World and the world of Man.
The autumn syla waited for us, shimmering against the amber walls in partial camouflage in their burnished gowns that were little more than what Aeval had worn.
“Gracious Queen of Heaven.” A single syla spoke while they curtsied low before me. “The syla salute you.” For once, their deference didn’t make me uncomfortable.
I nodded. “Thank you for your loyalty to Heaven. And thank you for helping me keep Azel from harm.”
“The syla want our queen. Our queen wants flower. It is well.”
“But why didn’t you just give it to her when she asked, before she ever tried to conquer Heaven?” The words came out with a bitterness I couldn’t hide. If they’d given Aeval what she wanted so long ago, none of the sorrow she’d brought with her would have stained the streets of Heaven. “And why did you want me to take it there? Surely you saw what would become of it?”
“The syla do not see all. The syla spin the cords of queens. Each queensdaughter changes what syla see. Flower is not for Queen Aeval, and so the syla do not give it. It is for Queen of Heaven. Then the syla see the Fallen Queen take, and we see our queen will come home to us to bring it back. And now it comes to pass. It is not yet time for fireflower in Heaven. One day it will return home.”
“But you saw wrong,” I realized with some dismay. “You saw Ola taking it from Helga, and she never did. Aeval took it. It was Aeval who stopped her.” At the murmur of soft laughter among them, I began to fear I was being played with.
“The syla do not laugh at Padshaya Koroleva,” she assured me. “We laugh because Little Queen shall take the flower of the fern and return with it to Heaven.”
“What do you mean?” I exclaimed. “Still? From Aeval?”
“We do not know. We do not see. But we see Little Queen, and she is a joyful child, and syla are happy. The spinning of this one took many threads, much work. Syla are pleased.”
I regarded them, still unconvinced of their motives. As with the Russian grand duchesses whose fates they’d spun so long ago, Aeval had cut the cords of the queensdaughters they’d spun in Heaven out of spite for the syla’s interference with her plans. For spite, she had seen to it that most of my family was destroyed. Had the syla known this would happen when they picked our threads out of the aether to be born? Had all of this—a century of spinning—been the complicated skein they’d taken up deliberately to bring Ola into being? But she was a joyful child, despite all she’d been through—a beautiful, joyful child, whose weaving I could not wish undone.
The syla nodded to me, all smiles. “Little Brother will see you out.”
Misha had followed us. He clasped hands with Kae and me, and the sphere of the Unseen World shimmered away, and we were once more within the ordinary world of Man.
I had one more stop I wanted to make before returning to Heaven. Dmitri hadn’t come with the troops he’d sent to help us win the war, and I wanted to thank him for putting his faith in me once more after what he’d been through with losing Lev. I bought train tickets on the suburban elektrichka into St. Petersburg proper for Kae and myself, and Kae sat next to me in stark amazement as we watched the world of Man rush by.
Dmitri was equally amazed when we appeared at his door, staring at us dumbly before asking us in.
Upstairs, he startled me by sinking onto one knee to kiss my ring. “Your Supernal Majesty.” He bowed his head. “You honor me with your presence.”
“Please, Dmitri.” I blushed. “No formality.”
He rose slowly, glancing at Kae in curiosity. “Would you like some tea?” Tea was the panacea for everything.
As we sat about his samovar, I suffered a pang of homesickness for the world I would likely never see again. “I don’t know how to thank you, Dmitri.” I held the warm cup in my hands. “Without you, we would have fallen to Aeval’s forces.”
He gave me a self-effacing shrug. “You wouldn’t have been in such dire straits if I hadn’t been such a stubborn ass.”
“I want you to come visit us in Elysium. I want to reward you somehow.”
“The fact that I can visit is reward enough. The underground has been buzzing with your Liberation Decree.”
“You signed it.” Kae gazed at me with pride.
Dmitri raised an eyebrow at us, but said nothing.
When we’d finished our tea, I rose reluctantly. “I suppose we shouldn’t linger. It takes nearly four days to get to the portal at Lake Baikal by train.”
“You already have tickets?” asked Dmitri.
I hesitated. “Well…no. Belphagor arranged for me to make the journey here. He gave me enough rubles for the trip home. I thought I would just get them at the station.”
“You won’t be able to get tickets on the Trans-Siberian for today. You have to buy them days in advance, sometimes weeks.” He smiled ruefully at my dismay. “Belphagor’s spoiled you. He has a certain…knack…for getting what he wants.”
“I can’t stay here for weeks!” I exclaimed. “I have Lively standing in for me with a glamour so no one will know I’m gone.”
“How would a breach be?” He winked. “I have it on good authority that the new government in Heaven is fairly lax about migration rules.”
When his people heard a breach was needed for the queen, Dmitri was able to assemble a remarkable number of accomplished Grigori summoners within a few hours’ time. He had access to a yacht, no questions asked—as humbly as he lived, he seemed to have access to a great deal—and by dusk we were in the center of Lake Ladoga, waiting for the ritual to begin.
“I realize you’re the queen,” Dmitri said to me, “but I hope you won’t mind if I ask you not to watch.” He looked embarrassed. “It’s ancient magic. Tradition. But if you command it—”
“Dmitri.” I put a reassuring hand on his arm. “I respect your traditions. Kae and I will look away until you tell us.” I took Kae’s hand and turned toward the shore as the sun began setting behind it, taking one last look at the imperfect and beautiful world of Man.
“You may want to release your wings now,” Dmitri advised. “It’s difficult once the winds are called. It’s not entirely necessary, but it makes for a smoother trip.”
Kae looked at me with fear. “Wings? I can’t… I don’t…”
“Oh, but it’s lovely,” I assured him. “I mean, it hurts a bit the first time, but only for a moment. After that, the muscles in your shoulders adapt to retract and release them as you please. In the world of Man, I mean.”
“Nenny, mine have already been released.” He looked pale. “Aeval tore through my flesh to reach them and call them forth. It was how we survived the palace fire.” His face went white as he recalled it. “She stretched them over our heads to ward away the flame and turned them to ice. They…shattered.”
My eyes narrowed in anger. “She pinioned you?”
“I suppose you could say that,” he said with a grimace.
“Well, you’ll hold on to me, then.” I shook my shoulders and let the plumes of water soar from my shoulder blades. Kae stared with fascination and a bit of horror as they solidified into wings above me, the water still rushing within them, but never falling from the shape. I’d only done this a small handful of times and this would probably be the last. I stretched them with poignant pleasure.
Thunder rumbled overhead and for a moment I thought I’d caused it until I saw the blackness of the clouds billowing overhead toward our boat, as if concentrated by the quiet chanting that had begun behind us. The sky had already been overcast with a high, dense cover over the shining cupolas and pinnacles of St. Petersburg. Wild, brilliants streaks of lightning began to illuminate the clouds as if we were in a vast arena, while wind and a tingling of electricity lifted our hair, and then Dmitri announced we could turn around.
The threads of the four elements spun toward the sky from the outstretched hands of the twelve Grigori and each of them had released their wings. The massive stone pennons of the earthspirits looked impossible to carry them, although I’d seen them fly with graceful agility.
“Get ready,” said Dmitri as the chanting grew louder.
I took Kae’s hands and placed his arms around my neck. “Hold o
n.” I wrapped my arms around him, lifting onto wing just a few feet above the deck. Kae jerked his shoulders in panic as if to catch himself, and then he cried out in surprise as his own wings shot forth, tearing through his coat and thundering above him.
“They were shattered,” he marveled. “I swear to you.” He stretched them overhead with a look of amazement at the feel of them, still hugging my neck, and I embraced him so that we bobbed lightly up and down together with the gentle flapping, like a small boat on the water.
“The aether.” I had to shout it over the din of the elemental storm above us. “It must have made them whole again, undoing whatever magic she did to you to bring them forth in Heaven.” We had drifted higher, warm air lifting us beneath our wings, when rain began to fall from the swirling vortex above our heads.
Kae leaned close to my ear so he could speak quietly. “It’s amazing.”
I smiled. “It’s why we fall.”
The breach split open and we separated as the whirling wind drew us upward with a rapid draft, two pairs of shining, outstretched wings soaring above Lake Ladoga, and then we were tumbling over the electrified edge of the vortex and into the courtyard garden of the celestial Winter Palace. Our wings had dissipated as we passed through to the celestial realm and we fell laughing among the fluttering rose petals we’d disturbed. It was the first time I’d heard Kae laugh in genuine amusement since my seventeenth birthday.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” Lively hissed loudly in my voice from a window above us. In a moment, she’d come down, gracefully reassuring the Ophanim that all was well before they reached us. “What are you doing coming in this way?” she scolded, hurrying us inside. “You might have warned me through the Chora.”
“I’m sorry,” I said meekly. “I forgot.”
Kae winked at me. “She’s got you down pat.”
We retreated to my boudoir for Lively to take her antidote and change clothes with me, and Kae reddened and turned toward the wall as she stripped without the least bit of self-consciousness.
“You look better,” she said to him, causing him to turn halfway and then catch himself as she shimmied out of her petticoats. “Though your coat needs mending at the shoulders.”