Shit. Samuel’s niece. Gone. Odin be cursed. That makes me fourth in line.
“Third, actually.”
Dammit. I must have spoken my musings aloud. This place is getting to me.
“Manu is also gone.” Konstantin lifts an eyebrow at my oath. “Poisoned. Fitting, I thought. He always was a toxic little shit. Which bring us to that point you were so anxious I make—Samuel has sent me to escort you home.”
Which means it’s happening. I stare at the mercenary, my shoulders tight. Sooner than I would have liked maybe—or maybe it’s perfect timing. My time in the pit reminded me of who I am, who I’ve always been.
There are some things even death can’t change.
“Thanks for the message, but I don’t need an escort.” I fold my arms. “Or a bodyguard.”
“Remind me again how you lost your first crown?”
A snarl slips from my lips and the shadow of my bear darkens the ground. The circumstances of my death are still a sore point. But while thirty moon-mad wolves may have overwhelming odds, one mercenary, elemental or not, is much more favorable. When I bare my teeth, Konstantin’s face pales.
“Forgive my insolence.” His bow is low. “I merely obey my king.”
“Wasn’t that Viktor Vasilisa last time I checked?”
His head comes up slow, eyes narrowed. “No man can serve two masters, as I am sure you are aware. The Firebird King has seen fit to release me from my service. My blade is now sworn to Samuel and the Court of Oak.”
I raise an eyebrow, but manage to hide my surprise. “Then take it back to him with my best wishes. He needs you. I do not.”
Konstantin straightens to his full height, which is still an inch or two scant of mine. But his smile is back in place, infuriatingly smug. “Samuel anticipated just such an order. And countermanded it. I’m to bring you back forthwith and not leave your side for all but the most intimate of functions.”
I stride across the clearing, intent on throwing him back to his own world to end this farce, but like the mist around us, Konstantin melts away before I can reach him.
Fucking elementals. “This is stupid,” I growl as he reappears. “And unnecessary.”
“Alas, I have no choice.” His voice hardens. “And neither do you. I vowed to see you safe to His Majesty at Hearthstone. Take it up with the king when we get back.” He spares a glance for Alice, who still hasn’t stirred. “Leave your liaison and let’s go.”
“She’s not a liaison.”
His eyebrows lift. “Then what is she?”
A problem.
I didn’t anticipate a visit to Samuel or the Court of Oak, but I can’t disobey the bruin king of the Old World. Even if it weren’t for propriety, Samuel is a good friend. Not to mention the nature of this summons is not the sort you ignore. At this time of year, Samuel will be at Domashniy Ochag, the home castle of the bruin royalty, located in the area of Midgard called Russia.
The castle is better known to English speakers as Hearthstone, and with the succession changing almost daily now, the place is bound to be rippling with undercurrents of violence and intrigue. Not the environment I want to be pulling a sheltered and somewhat traumatized young woman into.
Konstantin is staring at me expectantly. I wave a hand. “She’s asked me for safe passage to her home.”
“And of course you agreed.” He folds his arms. “Where might this home of hers be?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know?”
“Are you an echo elemental?” I snap. “No, she doesn’t fucking know. But”—it occurs to me I really don’t have a choice—“she’ll come with us to Hearthstone. Perhaps Samuel will know of someone who can figure out where she came from before we take our leave.”
“If you leave,” he mutters under his breath.
“Is that a threat?” I ask mildly, though my eyes never leave his face.
“Depends on your point of view, I expect. The throne comes with its own form of chains, wouldn’t you say?”
I throw some dirt and wet leaves on the fire, feigning indifference. “Samuel hasn’t asked yet.”
His eyebrows lift as the smoke billows up. “You can’t expect him to avoid doing so any longer. Not now.”
I shrug, turning my attention to putting out the fire. “Maybe I’ve decided to decline.”
“That’s a load of shit.” He tips his head to one side and barks out a laugh. “If you truly think you have any choice at all, you’re fooling yourself. Milord.”
I lift my head as he dips his, watching him through the smoke and mist.
Konstantin is an odd duck, even in our world. An elemental who is part bruin. He even shares the royal Mikhailov name because his mother was a mistress of the old king of that house—Samuel’s predecessor. Konstantin is his bastard.
King Nazary was a man well known for his indiscretions. Konstantin’s mother was by all accounts one of his favorites. A temperamental minor goddess whose name and specific powers, I forget. But her magic must have been strong to create an elemental like her son.
Most of our people aren’t too fussed with bastards, but they also don’t consider half-bruins to be real bruins, even if they can shift. By all accounts, Konstantin cannot. Sure, his elemental is shadow and he can dissipate and form the shape of all manner of things, but that doesn’t make him a bear. While extremely powerful, his magic is not ours. Hence Nazary allowing his only son the family name but refusing to formally recognize him.
Considering his family history with the Court of Oak, I’m amazed Konstantin swore himself to Samuel’s service, but if he finds it uncomfortable, the man doesn’t show it.
“You think so highly of my chances?” I ask, honestly curious how a man with his unique perspective views the succession. If Konstantin had been formally acknowledged by his father, he would have the strongest blood claim to the throne, bear or no bear.
“I wouldn’t say that.” His smile is thin. “The court views you as an outsider with strange New World ideas, one whom some say lacks proper court manners—”
The observation makes me chuckle. It’s a delicate way of saying I kiss no ass.
“—but that same lack of polish appeals greatly to the common folk.” He tilts his head. “You were very popular there in your younger days. Many still speak highly of you, and you do have experience in the role, something none of the others can claim.” A shrug. “Ruling is in your nature. You can pretend all you want, but you won’t be satisfied until you’re back on a throne, taking care of people.” He rolls his eyes. “Your kind is bred to it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Duty sits lightly on your shoulders, my liege.” His smile is enigmatic, as always.
“And how does it sit on yours, master of shadows?”
“Like a rock, Your Majesty. Like a fucking rock.” His lips twist. “Speaking of which, could we get moving? Samuel is waiting.”
Rather than argue, knowing time is short, I nod, giving him my back as I walk to where Alice is still curled up, snoring softly. “Alice, wake up.”
She doesn’t stir. I lean down to shake her a few times. She swats my hand away and rolls over, grumbling. I look at Konstantin, who shrugs. Clearly Alice is my problem. I shake her harder.
“Come on, sleepyhead. Time to—”
She punches me in the nose.
Her little fist is hard, too. The blow glances off and skitters over my cheekbone. I yank my head back and snarl before I can stop myself, more in surprise than anything else.
She sits bolt upright at the sound, eyes wide and confused.
When she sees me, her panic turns to a smile that is still sleepy at the edges. “Is it time to go then?”
“Past time.” I blink, resisting the urge to rub my nose.
“I’m sorry.” She stumbles to her feet. “I’m not really a morning person.”
“He gathered that when you slugged him.” Konstantin’s dry statement has Alice starting, lookin
g from me to him and back again. She doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“Did I hurt you?” she whispers finally.
I fold my arms, fighting a smile. “I’m fine, Alice.”
“Oh, good.” Then, in an even softer voice, “Who is he?”
“A pain in the ass,” I say. “Also known as Konstantin Mikhailov. He’s coming with us.”
“Oh.” After a slight hesitation she holds out her hand, giving a pretty curtsy despite her disheveled appearance. “Alice Liddell.”
Konstantin glances at me, making the connection much faster than I did. “Alice, eh?”
I shrug. With a bemused look, he takes her hand and bows over it. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, milady.”
Alice yanks her hand away at once. Konstantin doesn’t so much as blink, but she blushes fiercely. “I don’t mean to be rude, sir. It’s just that I feel . . . unsettled, somehow.” Her eyes search me out. “I don’t know why.”
But I’ve an idea. Elementals give off a sort of static-electric charge—rather like an aura. The equivalent of a warning to other fairy-tale creatures, here lies trouble, proceed with caution.
Usually humans can’t sense it, but as the cat said, no doubt her time here has made Alice more sensitive to such things. “He’s an elemental, Alice—someone born with a great deal of magic. You probably sense his power on some level.” Her nostrils flare. “It’s all right, he’s perfectly safe.” Then I reconsider. “At least when you’re with me.”
Konstantin smirks.
“Oh. All right.” She looks at the shadow elemental, her cheeks still pink as she rubs her hand unconsciously. “I hope I didn’t insult you.”
“Not in the least.” He bows again. Konstantin’s court manners are impeccable, despite being born on the wrong side of the sheets. “You should be frightened of my kind, milady. We’re quite dangerous.” He ignores her start at the matter-of-fact statement, then looks to me. “The gate will close if we don’t hurry.”
I nod and Alice scoops up her satchel without being told. Five minutes later, we’re topping a low rise. The infernal mist has cleared somewhat but still clings like a soft woolen blanket to the tops of the trees spread out below.
“I can’t believe I’m leaving at last,” she says.
I follow her wide gaze and see the castle in the distance. It looks even more decrepit than it did last night, a skulking wreck that no one should have to call home. The sight makes me scowl, thinking of the years she spent locked in such a dreary-looking place. Lifetimes, the cat said. The urge to pull the place down stone by crumbling stone has me making a vow then and there to come back and raze the place to the ground.
My bear snarls in whole-hearted approval.
“What did you do, cooped up in there for so long?” I wonder aloud, making an effect to swallow down the rage.
“I read.”
“That’s it?” I yank my gaze away from the castle to stare down at her.
She shrugs. “Pretty much.”
Gods. “How did you not go insane?”
Her face remains solemn, but her eyes twinkle as she looks up at me. “I read a lot.”
Konstantin calls out. When we turn, the path has appeared. It’s not a fancy gateway, but a rickety rope bridge that fades into nothing. The boards are weathered and cracked. In some places, they are missing entirely, giving a glimpse of the abyss below. Niflheim isn’t the most popular destination in the nine realms and the bridge reflects that.
Alice’s lips part as it sways and her face pales.
“It’ll be okay.” I touch her shoulder and wait until she meets my gaze. The hope and fear and trust in those big grey eyes pull me closer, until we’re nearly nose to nose. “I promise.”
“I believe you,” she whispers.
As we turn to follow Konstantin, her hand slips into mine and squeezes hard.
I find myself squeezing back as I lead her from one world to the next
5
My heart gives a wild, painful leap as we step into the light.
Sunshine. Real, strong and warm on my skin for the first time in years.
I lift my head in wonder, spinning slowly in place. The smell is like the garden in my dream memories. And Georg, I realize with a start. He brought this smell with him into Niflheim.
Blue sky, yellow sun. I close my eyes because otherwise I’m afraid the tears will come.
Home. Earth. Midgard.
At last.
I laugh out loud, then look over at Georg, wanting to share this feeling with him. The man that brought me back.
He’s not looking at me but straight over my head. The road we came out on winds up a long hill and there’s a castle at the end of it. Not a derelict castle like the one I’ve lived in so long. This one is beautiful, a true palace. It’s flush against a sheer cliff face and draped with twin waterfalls, one on either side of the tall parapets. Georg starts shouting something, but I don’t understand the words. Suddenly, savagely, he shoves me behind him, but not before I catch a glimpse of what lies ahead.
A massive white bear is moving out of the woods between us and the castle, snout wide open. A deafening bellow has me dropping to my knees, my hands over my ears. The pebbles on the path dig into my legs and more stones skitter wildly across the earth. The ground itself is trembling along with me.
Somehow, I’ve lost Georg’s hand. There is a flurry of movement off to my left where he was. A score or more of men in armor have surrounded us. Konstantin’s blade rings out along with a roar I recognize as belonging to Georg’s bear.
But the nightmare is still bearing down on me. On us. That terrifying white bear is charging, and Georg and Konstantin are busy fighting, their backs to him. Somehow, I stumble to my feet, my knees weak as I step between Georg’s back and the approaching monster.
And he is a monster. Not like Georg’s bear, which despite my teasing is incredibly intimidating. Especially at first sight. But his bear was also warm, brown and almost sweet, full of a quiet power that made me feel sheltered and secure.
This bear is like ice, ancient and cold. Even his black eyes glitter as they look down at me. I drop one shaking hand to my satchel, fumbling out a bottle and bringing it up without looking at the label. Small or large, I don’t care. Just help me.
Too late I put it to my lips. The bear slaps the flask away with another bellow and one enormous paw. Pain explodes through my skull as I fly over the grass, skittering and tumbling like I have wings and they’ve caught a gale-force wind. In my dreams flying is always much more fun and far less painful. Blood flies through the air with me, the droplets round and bright as we spin round and round.
It reminds me of the vampire Georg killed. Do I still have my head? I must, since it hurts so bad. Sounds echo inside and out of it, like drums beating or a mad clock ticking. The reverberations make my chest itch. The phantom drums are accompanied by roars and shouts, the clash of steel on steel and the gnash of teeth.
But with a crash and sudden blinding pain in my back, the noise cuts out. The only thing left is that ticking. I gasp and can’t get any air, staring up at the sky like a fish out of water. It’s so very blue, so very bright and I’ve missed it so much. But as I watch, a dark mist seeps across the sun, tainting the beautiful sight.
Hot tears drip down my face in time with the ticking in my head. Another sound breaks through the natural silence.
His laughter. The Master’s.
Welcome home, Alice.
Welcome home.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
“You can’t kill Kolya.” A pause. “At least not in public.”
Voices penetrate the fog around me. More mist? My stomach tightens painfully. Am I back in Niflheim?
“He attacked without provocation!” That’s Georg. He sounds furious. “He nearly killed Alice.”
I want to protest, because I am pretty sure someone did kill me. Only I can’t remember who. Was it the white bear or the Master?
And that
word sounds familiar.
Kolya.
Georg was shouting it right before he pushed me behind him on the path.
“She’s nothing to them. Even less to him. What does the nobility care about one lost human? You have to think this through.” Konstantin. “Both your reaction and your approach. You’re not in the New World anymore.”
A rumbling snarl. I think Georg is about to start shouting again, so I force my eyes open.
“Ouch,” I say, or try to. My lips feel swollen and half numb. My vision isn’t much better. Everything is soft and lumpy, including the two man-shapes at the foot of the bed I’m lying in.
Instantly, the bigger shape moves closer. Bit by bit, he comes into soft focus. It’s Georg, looking more snarly than I’ve ever seen him before. “Fucking finally,” he breathes. “You’ve been out for hours. How do you feel?”
Like I flew and crashed, all without wings. But the pain is the least of my worries right now. “Have I lost my head?” I whisper.
His brows draw together. “Have you lost your…?” The beginnings of a smile pull at his lips. “No, Alice. I promise your head is right where you left it. You’ll be fine. At least after some rest.” His expression darkens again.
“What happened? Who w—”
The door behind Konstantin opens and a man walks in. My vision is clearing. He’s old and white haired, but he moves like a much younger man, with crisp, efficient strides. The man stops at the end of my bed and bows. Not very low, I notice. “Milord.”
Georg’s nod is as perfunctory as that bow. “Asher. Have the guards escorted Kolya to the dungeons yet?”
The man tsks. “Count Kolya is in his rooms. His Majesty has put a guard on both your quarters at the moment, to ensure this is sorted out without any further misunderstandings.”
“Misunderstandings?” Georg’s voice is deep with a barely leashed rage that has me shrinking back into my covers. “What sort of misunderstanding is it that made your count attack my party?”
“We had a warning one of the bridges to the nine would open today. That a threat was imminent. The count was merely protecting the realm. A duty he has undertaken for years now.” The man Asher sniffs and hands Georg a roll of parchment tied with a scarlet ribbon. “His Majesty summons you both to court in the morning.” He bows again, the insult even clearer this time, but Georg is busy tearing open the parchment and unrolling it. He scans the missive quickly, then tosses it on my bedcovers with a curse.
A Curious Twist of Lime Page 5