I was done making bad choices.
The walls rattled as someone pounded against the doors. Winter roses twined over them, freezing the handles and the lock and isolating me from the world outside.
“They won’t break through,” Urso said, and I didn’t know if he was talking to me or to himself.
“Why Sigis?” I asked. “Why annexation?”
“I’m sure Yannush explained everything.” A fresh tremor shook Urso’s hand. “Not that it matters.”
“It was money, wasn’t it?” I said. “You’ll be remembered as a traitor who sold his country for a nice title and a bit of land.”
Urso ignored me. “Your Grace,” he said to Svaro, who’d been watching the entire exchange from his chair. “Are you ready to take up your mantle?”
Svaro straightened. His wet hair stood on end. “Are you saying I am grand duke?” His voice was curious, even eager.
“If you wish to be,” Urso said.
“Does that mean Father is dead?” Svaro asked.
“I regret to say,” Urso said.
“Svaro, he’ll only use you,” I cut in. Urso shot an irritated look over my head to his secretary, and a moment later, a wad of cloth was shoved into my mouth.
Svaro frowned. I could see the question winding across his face. But when he nodded, it was without remorse. What could I expect? My family was my family.
“Very good.” Urso turned. “Go,” he told Eirhan. “Unless you’re going to try some poorly thought-out plan to save her.”
Eirhan’s mouth twisted in an unamused smile. “My plans are never poor.” Then he looked at me for a long moment. “I really did want to help you,” he said at last. Fury and fear mixed sickeningly in my stomach. I’d hoped, up to now, that he was playing some long game with Urso, the way he’d played me. “I warned you to think about the consequences of your actions. You have my sympathy.”
What good that would do me. I curled my lip at him, too, over my gag, but he didn’t seem fazed by it. He paused at the servants’ door, and for a moment, I thought he’d changed his mind. But the longer he watched me, the more I realized: He was only waiting to see the job through.
Urso poured a dark imported wine from the carafe into the cup. Then he picked up a tiny jar, and I didn’t have to see the ever-shifting color to know what was in it. With a little wooden spoon, he lifted a pearl from the jar, so fresh it broke as it caught on the grain. He stirred the wine, closing his eyes, concentrating. And from a little vial that held something darker than wine, he poured a few drops. I knew it. My theory was right. Stable magic. Could any blood suffice for this? Could it be synthesized, or was there some extra component to blood from Below that made it possible? Even when I was about to die, I couldn’t help wondering.
Urso crushed another pearl in a small bowl with a fresh splash of blood. He dipped his fingers in the mixture and came toward me. “Escort my lady to the Great Hall,” he said. Eirhan beckoned, and little Svaro took his hand. In his white ermine robe, he seemed so small, so fragile. He winced as the ice walls shuddered one more time, then disappeared through the servants’ entrance without once looking back. Urso’s secretary hurried after him.
I made a noise against my gag. Urso pulled it free. “I’m not my father, you know,” I said. “There are other solutions to your problems.”
Urso’s kindly face looked more sorrowful than ever. “Not for me, my lady.” And he pressed his fingers, wet with magic, to the side of my throat. As he drew them down, I felt my muscles slacken. My jaw fell open. Urso guided my head back and poured the dark, sour wine into my unresisting mouth.
“I suspect it will be quick,” he said. He didn’t draw my head back down, and I was left to stare at the blue-white ceiling, listen to his footsteps as they receded, to the deep breath he took as he came to grips with killing his second grand duke, to the click of the servants’ door closing like a blade nicking on ice. And then I was alone, with a very still Viljo sprawled across my lap.
Cold brushed like a current against my cheek. The air grew thick, hard to breathe. I tugged at the bonds around my wrists. They’d been tied tight.
Had Urso taken his supplies? I still couldn’t move my neck. But maybe—I wriggled against Viljo’s body, trying to scoot free. The edges of the ceiling began to turn dark. There was banging on the library doors, far away and fuzzy. My throat contracted as something salty-sweet filled my mouth.
So cold. My shoulders shook, and tremors traveled down my arms, chafing the bindings on my wrists. I levered my knees free of Viljo, then my feet. I tried to push up but slipped in something wet and banged my knee hard on the floor. My head cracked against the ice. I could see the table. If I could make it there, somehow—if I could get my hands out from behind my back—
A door crashed open. I barely heard the shouts. I was lifted away from the floor, and my arms were freed of their bindings. A hand slammed against my back. Water spewed out of me. It beaded on my skin. Winter roses burst on the floor, and I couldn’t tell if they were in the room or only in my mind.
My hand found Inkar’s wrist and squeezed, holding on with all the strength I had. I was glad I wouldn’t die alone. Something cracked with a sound like the ice sheet breaking.
Someone grabbed my hair, yanking me back. I jerked, but Inkar held me steady. “Calm, now,” Aino said. “You’ll be all right.” My free hand found her shoulder and clawed at it.
“Keep her steady.” Aino’s fingers worked into my mouth, shoving something against the back of my throat. Bitter iron coated my tongue before being washed away. She withdrew her hand and pushed my mouth shut. “Swallow, Ekata.” I tried to shake my head. “Yes. Calm. It will be fine.” Water all around me. “There you go,” she soothed. “You’ll be all right. Relax. There you go.”
I swallowed, choked, and hiccuped. My mouth sprang open, and I pulled in a lungful of precious air. Then another. The dark began to recede, leaving Aino and Inkar and half a dozen servants and guards staring. My lungs burbled, and I started to cough. “A bowl,” Aino snapped, and someone hurried to obey her. She slid a wooden bowl under my chin and nodded to Inkar, who leaned me forward. I vomited a thin stream into the bowl. My sinuses burned.
I was so tired of drowning.
Inkar’s and Aino’s faces came into focus before me. I expected Aino to ask the question, but she remained silent. It was Inkar who finally said, “Who was it?”
“Urso,” I said. “Among others. How did you get in?”
“We hoped the servants’ entrance wouldn’t be blocked. But we had to take the long way around,” Aino said.
“And you didn’t see anyone?”
Aino shook her head.
“We should take you to a doctor, Your Grace,” a guard said. Saljo, I thought. Inkar’s friend. I squeezed her hand again.
“Viljo first,” I said.
Two guards knelt by Viljo, while the rest observed the space where the door to the library had once been. Now there was nothing but a tangle of thorns, wild and blue, roses bursting in full bloom between them.
When I was certain that I could breathe without coughing, I stood. Aino put a hand on my shoulder. “Please, Ekata. Sit. We’ll take care of things.”
The puzzle pieces turned, and the puzzle pieces fit. I couldn’t think about the roar that grew in my mind, and I couldn’t deal with it, because the reckoning would be bad, and first I needed—“Farhod.”
“What?” Inkar said. She brushed her hand across my lips, pressed her forehead to mine. “You are just… better?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t just better. But I couldn’t think about that. “I’m going to Farhod.” And if the rest of my family hadn’t died in the last five minutes, I was going to shake this curse off once and for all.
I staggered toward Urso’s little table. I picked up the shimmering jar. The vial of blood was empty, except for a tiny smear at the bottom. I had no idea whether it would be enough. Aino came forward to support me, and I let her. The anger at the bac
k of my mind reared, but I pushed it back. I couldn’t explode. Not yet. My mind had to focus on other things. Like where I’d find more blood.
The laboratory. Where Farhod had so carefully dissected a specimen from Below. Where everything waited in jars.
The laboratory was cold and silent, and I shivered as we entered. Inkar lit a lamp on the wall. “What are we looking for?”
I went to Farhod’s anatomy shelf, peering among the labeled jars. Intestine sample, skin sample, a section of vertebrae—any of them might work, but I knew of only one guarantee. I picked up a little glass jar. His small, neat handwriting labeled it blood, dried, specimen male, citizen Below.
“Don’t you think you should stop your brother first?” Aino said as I shut the door to the laboratory.
“No,” I said in a voice so cold it clouded the air between us.
Aino paled. She said nothing more as we made our way to Father’s chambers. “Wait here,” I told her, and beckoned to Inkar, who followed me with a bewildered expression.
The scene beyond was as still as death. My family barely breathed. Munna hurried over to me. “My Lord Svaro—” they said.
“I know.” I covered my nose in an attempt to dull the stench. “I’ll explain later.” For now, I moved to the desk, pushing Farhod’s many remedies aside to set down my equipment.
I wondered if I should take anything else. Red poppies, for vitriol and strength, for life in the face of death. Calimony moss, hawthorn, dried bear’s blood. In the end, I took a little water from the messenger bowl at Father’s desk. I tapped dried blood into the cup, biting my lip. If I ran out of this before I managed the cure…
Munna watched me uneasily. “Your Grace, nothing’s changed for the rest of them.” Their voice held a note of warning, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. The last time I’d tried to interfere, I’d nearly killed everyone.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said, and took Urso’s jar. Three glistening pearls—that might be enough. They were so fresh they sent a burst of blue into the air as I dropped two into the cup. Sparks wriggled through the water as I stirred the concoction, careful not to touch it—yet.
The cup turned warm in my hand. Color fizzed to the surface of the water. I kept stirring and focused. Colors shattered against one another, new tiny flowers bloomed and died. The ghost of a bear’s roar moved through my head, the taste of hawthorn burst on my tongue, all in a moment.
I moved to Velosha first. Some part of me still wondered if this was right. If the world wasn’t better without them. Would Father have spared time and effort to keep them alive?
But that was the point, wasn’t it? I wasn’t Father. I knelt, took a drink from the cup, and shaped the magic in my mind. Then I leaned over Velosha and blew into the catheter. I put a hand on her shoulder and thought about the magic leaving her body—all of it—and I knelt before her until her chest moved, and instead of water, she was breathing air.
The room had gone silent. Everyone had stopped to look at me. “I think she’ll vomit,” I said, and got to my feet with Inkar’s help.
Velosha drew a great, rattling breath. Then she turned to her side and began to heave.
I moved to Lyosha, now that I was certain of my success. Well, more certain. They could relapse, Below could make a countermove, any number of things could happen. But I had to trust what I was doing, then I had to face the rest of the problems I’d created.
I went to Farhod last, lying disregarded in his corner. The doctors had to prioritize the royal family, but seeing him hurt worse than anything else. For your sake, more than anything, I hope this works, I thought, and took my last drink.
He lay still for a beat, then a beat longer. How long had it taken the others? Should he recover faster or slower? As I counted heartbeats with no result, I tried not to let my fear overwhelm me. Every patient was different, sometimes things took time—
Farhod convulsed. His eyes opened. I knew he recognized me. He coughed a stream of water over his chin and smiled weakly.
My hands tightened around his shoulders, and I pulled him into a hug. “I did it,” I said, not caring that he coughed lake water and phlegm all over my coat and hair. “I did it.”
I woke up my selfish, angry, murderous family.
Inkar touched my arm as we left. “Saljo says they are preparing for another coronation in the Great Hall.”
“Sigis or Svaro? My little brother,” I clarified when she frowned in confusion.
“The little one, I think. Sigis is… furious.”
No doubt. I wondered if Sigis still wanted to marry me, or had encouraged Urso to kill me—or whether the duke Below had demanded my death. It hardly mattered. “I’ll have to change,” I said, brushing at the ruined front of my coat. “I hope you’ll help me.” I patted at my pockets, feeling for the lumps that indicated the dried blood and Urso’s little jar. All I needed, really, to make my grand entrance.
I hurried into my underclothes and selected the blue dress I’d worn for my coronation. Aino worked without speaking. With every brush of her hand against my arm or back, my stomach turned, over and over, until I thought I’d be sick if I opened my mouth.
But the dark fury had gathered in me ever since she’d saved me, with magic she shouldn’t know how to use. “You…” I swallowed and turned my voice as brittle and hard as ice. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”
Her fingers stilled between my shoulder blades. “Knew what?”
“You knew it was Yannush and Urso and Eirhan. How long?”
Aino paused. Then her fingers worked again, hooking the final buttons. “It wasn’t Eirhan.” Her voice was quiet, broken. I knew she was crying, but I didn’t turn around. “He was trying to protect himself. And I was trying to protect you. I told you to run, remember?”
“Did you plan it?”
Her fingers tightened. “No.”
I finally turned to face her. Her face was a mask, but her eyes glistened, tears held back by sheer force of will. As though she didn’t want to be ashamed. If anything, it made me angrier. “What did he offer you?” I stepped back, away from her caging arms, still raised to adjust my dress. “Power? Money? Some kind of title? What could Sigis give you that you couldn’t ask from me?” My voice trembled. The roaring rage stole my spare breath and I heaved for more.
The first of her tears spilled over. “Ekata, please. It wasn’t about him—”
Her hand came to my shoulder. I shoved it away. “Then what? What was so important to you that you gave me six days of hell? That you jeopardized my life and tried to kill my family?”
“I told you to run.” Aino shook her head; tears scattered from her chin like pearls. “They’d have sorted it out among themselves. But you wouldn’t go. And the longer you stayed, the more they thought about killing you, the more we had to do to make sure you stayed alive—”
“We?” I reached for her wrist, but she pulled away from me. She feared me, I realized. And it should bother me, but I was too angry to care. “Who’s we? Yannush? Urso?” Aino didn’t reply, but I knew from her stone face I hadn’t guessed right. “Below?”
“They wrote to me. From Below. I don’t know who. They told me where to find your father’s supply of ingredients, and they told me how I could protect you. The night it happened… I didn’t take only your mother’s jewelry. I took your father’s supply of blood, too.” She all but fell backward onto my bed, pressing her hands together until they turned white.
Aino, Aino. I wanted to tell her to get out of my sight. I wanted to run away, to Farhod and Inkar, away from her.
But she was still my Aino, more my mother than my own mother. I’d spent six days trying to outrun problem after problem. I had to face this one head-on.
Anger warred with sorrow inside me. Tears filled my eyes. I forced myself to kneel before her and to remember that I didn’t want to hate her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked softly, taking her hand. “We could have stopped all this before it even began. In
stead, you betrayed my family and conspired against my father.”
The venom in her voice was a layer of ice over my skin. “What do I care about your father? The rest of your family can drown. All your life I’ve had to protect you from them. And now that they’re gone, no one mourns them. Even your wife would rather be with you than the man she came to marry, Ekata.” Her voice took on a pleading tone, and her eyes finally met mine. Her grip on me tightened, and I hissed in pain. “I’ve always tried to protect you, and your family has been the worst threat you’ve faced. Let’s go. They can destroy the duchy without you, and you can do what you always wanted.”
“I’m an Avenko,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to be one, even though I had no idea who Ekata was without Aino to guide me. And Aino could never stay, not after what she’d done. “No matter how far I go, and no matter how long I stay away, I’m responsible for Kylma, and I can’t let it fall apart.” Not at the hands of my father, or Sigis, or Eirhan, or any other greedy minister. And my mind, spinning and spinning and spinning, was warning me that my time ran short.
“What’s the point?” Aino palmed at her eyes and succeeded only in smearing the kohl around them. “There will be another coup and another. And eventually there won’t be anyone left.”
I knew she believed what she said. I knew it was a future I couldn’t accept.
“You can’t leave this room, Aino.” I smoothed her hair as though I were the mother now. She hiccuped pitifully, and my tears spilled out in return. “I mean it,” I said, voice shaking. “They’ll tear you apart if they realize.”
“What will you do with me?” Aino asked.
“I don’t know.” While I wanted to wrap my arms around her and squeeze as tight as I could, while I wanted to crawl into bed and let her tuck me in and pretend everything was the way it had been a week ago, I knew I couldn’t. There were no certainties for us anymore.
“You were shouting,” Inkar said as I came into the antechamber.
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