And it tasted just the same.
After he’d eaten as much as he could, leaving only scraps, he heaved himself into the bath. It was still warm, though surely it should be cold. Compared to meals appearing from the air, though, that didn’t bother him so much.
The warm water relaxed his muscles, the food filled him, and for the first time in many weeks, he felt human. Weaker and thinner than he had been but alive. He didn’t know how long he sat there as the water didn’t cool, but eventually he hauled himself up and out and towards the bed.
After all human needs were met, there was now something he must do. And as much as he needed comfort and sleep, he knew his duty.
The mattress was old and heavy, but when he lifted it, Vanya soon saw what Vasilisa had, no doubt, intended him to see.
Scratched into the bed, under the mattress, in many different hands, was a great deal of knowledge. He had to fetch a candle and lean close to read it. Some of it was old and worn and hard to make out, but it didn’t take long for Vanya to realise what this was. The knowledge of generations of princesses who had been brought here by Kaschei. Who had slept in this bed.
His candle burnt low before he finished it, and now he knew more. Everything from the things likely to provoke temper to his new master’s preference for fruits and sweets.
Also, he knew how to kill him.
It was an accumulated work, patched together from many hands. In the house was a room with a locked door. Kaschei wore the key to it at all times. In the room was a box. In the box was an egg and in the egg was Kaschei’s soul. And if it were ever to return to his body, he would surely die.
A simple task, of course, to steal the key. Find and unlock the door. Open the chest. Crack the egg.
His path was clear. He was a prince. Kaschei was an evil wizard. Vanya knew this tale.
He let the mattress drop back into place and remade the bed. His plates had been cleared and the bath drained and removed while he worked. He crawled under the heavy, warm sheets and let them hold him.
Kaschei had seemed kind. He had seemed alone. But Vanya was a prince and Kaschei was a wizard. There was only one way for their story to end.
KASCHEI THE DEATHLESS lifted his tea to his lips. As he sipped, his eyebrow lifted a little in surprise. Not shock or anger, just a polite surprise followed by a second of consideration, a barely perceptible nod, and another sip of the tea.
Vanya shifted in his seat and hoped he didn’t draw too much attention. The night before, while freezing and starving, he had thought that this was a good idea. Now, sitting down to breakfast across the table from the monster who had haunted his childhood imagination, he was beginning to think he’d miscalculated.
A plate, which had previously been empty, refilled with steaming syrniki. Vanya’s mouth watered. He made himself reach out at a sensible, sedate pace. His stomach was complaining inside him, telling him last night’s feast had hardly been enough. But he didn’t want to gorge himself, not here. Not with Kaschei contemplating him over the rim of a teacup.
The syrniki seemed to melt in his mouth. He couldn’t help a hum of contentment.
Kaschei laughed. It wasn’t a loud laugh or a mean one, but it was enough to make Vanya jump a little in his chair and refocus on the man in front of him.
Kaschei smiled.
Vanya offered a tentative smile in return, though he was afraid it wasn’t as genuine as his host’s seemed to be. He should make conversation, should say something. It was always the case that, once any immediate danger was over, he found words lodged in his throat and wouldn’t come out.
Some companion. Kaschei would probably kill him in a fit of boredom.
“I suppose,” Kaschei said slowly, “that I should tell you what is expected of you.”
“Please,” Vanya blurted, his mouth running away before he could catch it. The edges of Kaschei’s smile softened into something almost fond.
“This place is yours to explore and live in. Any door that will open, you can go through. Anything you can find, you can use. There is a well-stocked library as well as a variety of other things—I suggest you explore.”
Vanya’s breath caught. He hadn’t expected to be encouraged to look around. It would make it easier to find the locked door, though maybe not to get the key to open it.
One step at a time.
“You don’t have work for me to do?”
“As you can see, things run quite well here already,” Kaschei said, gesturing at the plates, which were once again full of steaming food. “Your days are your own. I expect you to dine with me at breakfast and again at supper, but through the day, I am often kept away from home, so you’ll have to entertain yourself.”
“Where do you go?” Mouth running away again. It was going to get him killed, he could sense it. It was honestly a shock he’d survived this far, and probably more of a testament to his brothers’ skill with their swords than his ability to keep himself alive.
Kaschei didn’t seem upset, though. “I do many things. I’m not known everywhere as Kaschei the Deathless, you know.”
Vanya hadn’t. He hadn’t thought of it, though he supposed he should have. A person could no more be Kaschei the Deathless all day every day than they could always be Prince Ivan. “So, what should I call you?”
There was a strange expression on Kaschei’s face for a second. Something satisfied. He nodded. “The name my mother gave me was Alexander, if you can credit that a thing like me ever had a mother. Will that do for now, Ivan?”
“Yes,” Vanya said quickly. Alexander. That made sense of Vasilisa calling him Sasha the night before. Though Vanya was quite glad he hadn’t been invited to use that name. He wasn’t sure he could kill a man whom he referred to as Sasha. Alexander would be hard enough. “Thank you, Alexander.”
WHEN THE SLAMMING of the door had finished echoing through the house, the first thing Vanya did was run to the window and pull back the net curtains. He knew it was a risk, that Alexander might look back and see him, but he wanted to see outside. Wanted to see the snow and the grounds and the wall he’d walked along last night, propping himself up against the crumbling mortar until he’d come to a twisted iron gate he’d been able to climb.
Instead, he was faced with a blank wall.
The window should have been there. There was a frame. The room was lit with the natural light of a crisp winter morning. But, where the window should have been, there was nothing.
He made quick work of the other windows in the breakfast room and found them all the same. Blank and white.
There was clearly more magic in this house than just food and water.
He made sure to pull the curtains back before heading out into the hallway. It was always best to leave a room as you found it—to pass through without leaving a sign. The less you were seen, the easier things went.
The house was simple in layout. A large hallway with a giant wooden door and a grand staircase dominated the front, then beside it, below and above, a long corridor with various closed doors. He spent a time just walking up and down those halls. Every door was shut; every door was different. It seemed like nothing so much as a house pieced together from rooms of other houses.
It was also large. Larger than it had any right to be, given what he’d seen of the outside the night before.
It was possible that hunger and exhaustion had caused him to become confused, but, somehow, he didn’t think so.
He found the room he’d slept in and pulled back the curtains to the same blank windows.
He was going to go mad if he had to look at that all the time. He was beginning to see why every window was covered. It was better than that blankness.
Then, heading back out into the hall, he began to open doors.
“WHY DON’T YOU tell me about your home?” Alexander suggested.
Vanya shrugged and trailed his spoon through a very acceptable soup. “It really isn’t interesting.”
Alexander made a questioning noise. Van
ya felt eyes on him but didn’t dare look up. Alexander had a very intense look, and Vanya liked to avoid meeting it where he could. It had a way of making him feel pinned—exposed.
“Most of my guests enjoy talking to me about their homes. They talk at great length about how wonderful the places they come from are. The nature, the mountains, such things.”
“They’re probably homesick or trying to convince you to let them go.”
“And you’re not homesick?”
Vanya’s hand stilled. He considered it, really considered it, for a few seconds.
Was he homesick?
He was bored, some days. He’d been into every room now and hadn’t yet found the door he couldn’t open, though he hadn’t searched each of them thoroughly yet. He’d read a few books in the library. He’d found a chest of art supplies that he’d almost felt excited about for a while until he remembered that he was a prince and his job was to find the locked door, not to indulge himself.
But bored and homesick weren’t the same thing. Was he homesick?
“No. My father’s castle is in lands that are frozen in winter and mud all the rest of the year round. My brothers are loud and violent, and my father wishes I were more like them. I don’t mean that I’m entirely happy here, but I’m not sure I’d care if I never go back there.”
Alexander snorted a laugh, and Vanya risked a glance up at him. Managed to avoid the eyes and simply take in the face for a moment. He looked so fond and warm. How could he be bad?
“There’s nothing you miss?”
“No,” Vanya said. But, then, that wasn’t entirely fair. He did love his family, whatever they were. “No, there must be something. I miss the way the cook used to make my tea, and I miss the sound of the birds outside my window in spring. I miss looking out and seeing the world.”
“Something my house can’t provide.”
Vanya glanced higher, and Alexander was watching him. Their eyes locked. For a second, Vanya was pinned. Something of how much he missed looking out must have shown on his face because, for a second, Alexander looked almost sad.
“It’s not a big thing,” Vanya said, managing to break their staring contest. “I’ll live. I’d just like it, that’s all. To look out and see the world.”
“Did you never think of travelling, Ivan? You’re the third son, correct? It would have been fine for you to set out and seek your fortune.”
“I’m not sure about that.” Vanya flushed. “I don’t think my father ever trusted me. And look at what happened when I did set out on an adventure. I arrived at your door starved, freezing, and exhausted. I’m surprised you didn’t take me for a beggar and throw me out.”
“I’m not so rich in friends that I could refuse the company of beggars. Besides, you did what you came to, yes? You freed your princess. And I think there can be many worse ends to a quest than the one you found.”
Vanya glanced up at Alexander. He was smiling. For a second, Vanya allowed himself to imagine going around the table and leaning into the warmth of Alexander’s side. He wondered if he’d be rejected or pulled closer. Wondered if maybe his quest might have a good ending after all.
If only he didn’t know his duty.
EVERY DAY, VANYA searched for the door.
It wasn’t one of the ones leading from the corridors. Of course, that might be too easy. Even the most airheaded person would find that door.
It was not a door inside a room. Those led to pantries and closets and such, storage rooms stacked with things that must have been requested or owned by Alexander’s previous guests.
It wasn’t a cupboard door. All of those opened easily.
He searched every inch of Alexander’s room. He felt guilty every second he was in there, as though Alexander might return at any moment and find him. Become angry with him, though Vanya had never been banned from the room. He still felt it wrong to be there uninvited. But what better place to hide the door? He pressed on every inch of the wall and floor, searching for a hidden lever or a switch.
Nothing.
He checked his own room, too. He thought the irony of the locked door being hidden there might appeal to Alexander.
Nothing.
He searched the dining room.
Nothing.
He searched the sitting room.
Nothing.
He began the kitchen, well-appointed and spotless, though it was apparently never used.
Nothing.
He was going crazy.
“WHAT WILL YOU do today?”
It was breakfast. They were sat together in the dining room. Vanya had come to hate the dining room. Its rich wood panelling had taken hours of his life as he ran his fingers over every nook. Every crevice. Vanya scowled down at his bread.
“I suppose I’ll read.” He kept a book in the library. Even read it some days, though when he did, the guilt of not searching for the door gnawed at him.
“Did you read much in your life before?”
Vanya flushed. “I…no. I suppose I never really had the time. There were always hunts and parties and such.” It wasn’t quite true; he could have made time. He made time for staring out the window at the knights as they battled. He might have made time here to stare at Alexander as he worked, but they were so rarely together. Their two meals and then, in the evening, Alexander would retire to his workroom or bedroom and Vanya would be alone again.
Despite the fact that he was supposed to be there for company, he was deprived of it himself.
“I can’t bring you a hunt or a party, but is there something I could bring that would ease your boredom?”
“No. I’m happy.”
Alexander frowned as though he knew just how untrue that was. “Are you sure? There’s nothing you would like?”
Vanya thought. The door found. A few more hours of company in the evening. The paints he’d found in the store cupboard that he went back to look at from time to time but his guilt didn’t let him touch. Something, anything—to see outside his own blank windows.
Something to see.
He wondered.
“Where are you going today, Alexander?”
Alexander frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m lonely,” Vanya said, biting his lip at the admission. “I mean, I don’t mean to complain, but it’s very quiet here and I know you’re busy, but…”
“Most people desire to spend less time with me, not more.”
“Most people don’t choose to come here of their own will. I know I didn’t exactly have a wealth of options, but I don’t regret the choice I made, Alexander. And I thought, maybe, for one day, I could go with you. Just to breathe the air. To see the snow. To not be alone.”
Vanya bit his lip. He’d said too much, probably. Showed too much weakness. His brothers would have laughed at the pleading tone in his voice. Mimicked him and hit him round the head. Told him that princes don’t talk like that and he should show some pride. He waited for that now. Waited for Alexander to sneer at him. To roll his eyes and push Vanya away.
“Have you ever travelled outside your father’s kingdom, Ivan?”
Vanya blinked, surprised by the question. “No. Not really. My brothers did when I was young, but it was always thought best for me to stay behind.” Where he couldn’t be an embarrassment.
“Would you like to?”
“Yes,” Vanya said quickly. “But, I mean, is the rest of the world very different?”
Alexander laughed, but it was more kind than cruel. He stood and reached for Vanya’s hand. He seemed to realise a second later that it might not be appropriate and dropped his hand again, but by then, Vanya was already reaching for it and there was an awkward second where Vanya let his hand hover in the air, unsure if he should reach forward or pull back. Then Alexander reached out again and took Vanya’s hand in his.
Alexander’s hands were softer than he might have thought. And surer. He guided Vanya round the table, and Vanya went.
“I can come with you?”
“For today,” Alexander said. “I can’t take you every day. I often go to places that are dangerous or places where they’d be alarmed to suddenly have you there. But today, I’ll show you some things.”
“You’ll… Oh, you needn’t do anything special for me. Just take me where you go.” Vanya couldn’t help the stirring curiosity about what Alexander did. What name he did it under. If it was good or evil.
But, then, did he want the evidence? Either way, he had his role here. Knowing that Kaschei the Deathless was also kind wouldn’t change that.
“But you’ve seen so little of the world,” Alexander was saying, guiding Vanya to the door. “Let me show you some of it.”
The door.
Vanya had opened it a few times. It wasn’t locked. Couldn’t be the locked door anyway, as Alexander opened it every day to come and to go. Every time Vanya did, though, somehow, a few moments later, he found himself stood there, door closed again, not quite sure how that had happened.
When Alexander opened it, that didn’t happen. When Alexander opened it, for a moment, there was light. Vanya closed his eyes against the brightness and let Alexander guide him forward and over the threshold.
For the first time in weeks, Vanya felt a breeze against his face. He’d nearly forgotten what that felt like and gasped, lifted the hand that wasn’t being held to touch his cheek. It wasn’t the freezing cold breeze of home, though. It was warm.
He opened his eyes.
He’d known he wasn’t at home. He’d known the door opened to places other than the one he’d grown up in. Still, he’d never seen a place like this before.
Everything was green. Like at home in the summer, when the fields thawed and farmers grew what crops they could, only more. A thousand times more. There were a million shades of green here—rich and bright. More plants than he’d ever seen in any one place.
It felt like a place that winter couldn’t touch. He hadn’t imagined there could be such a place.
Alexander released his hand, and he found himself stumbling forward. He fell to his knees on the ground and reached out to touch a flower. It was beautiful. He hadn’t known they could be so delicate. So soft. There were flowers at home, but not like this. The flowers at home were small and tough. Nothing could kill them.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 8