Serpent and the Throne (Fedosian Wars #1)

22. Price of Magic

twenty-two

Price of Magic

The days burned like a candle, depleting, and fizzling. It would turn dark, Sofia would think she’d died, then someone would light another candle.

Quit doing that and leave me alone. I want to be in the dark.

She thought if she was very still, people would stop noticing her and she would cease to exist. People moved in and out of her room, barely talked to her anymore, remarked only about the uneaten food as they collected the plates, but she didn’t stop being.

Maybe it was because she kept thinking. That she still had thoughts was why she existed. She tried not to think at all, but that was harder done than imagined.

Lev was by the window, as he often was. Contemplative and sober, not like himself at all. The crystal chandelier caught the sunlight, a spark of fire, the flame of insanity. She smiled at how it glittered. The bedroom at the White Palace hadn’t been changed since she lived here, and the walls were powder blue with white flowers. Same pattern on the high ceiling and it used to look like a fancy vase when she was a girl. She used to be a girl, didn’t she? Perhaps she was dead and didn’t know it.

Sofia pawed at the white tassels of the blue canopy above her bed. Maybe she was a cat. Light did seem to amuse felines.

“Why did you give a me thing he could find?” she asked.

Lev turned to her. He looked like Papa when he knotted his blond brows. He wasn’t sure if she’d spoken. She didn’t do that these days, trying to be dead and all, but she wanted to know.

“The necklace you gave me that morning when I was leaving with Aleksei, it was a tracker,” she said. “Why?”

“So I can find you should something terrible happen to you, Soful.” He came and sat down on the corner of her bed. “I knew Aleksei would abandon you somewhere when he was done with you.”

“And you told the archmage so he can find me?”

“No.” His frown deepened. “It was my tracker. I made it.”

“With Guard magic? And you didn’t think Uncle could trace it?”

“Fuck, Soful. I didn’t… Will you eat something? Your hair is falling out.”

“Why do you care? Why lug me around, Lev? Just leave me be. I’m going to stay here and die.”

“For the saints, Soful.” He took her hand. His palm was callused from sword practice. Try and try as he did when he was a boy, he never pleased his uncle. “I’m going to kill him. Whatever he did to you, I’m going to kill him,” he said.

“He’s already dead,” she said, taking her hand back. His skin was warm, and she didn’t want to touch a living person.

“Aleksei?” Lev asked.

“No, the archmage. I’ve killed him.”

“You didn’t kill him, Soful.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’ve told the servants to ready your things. We leave in two days. We’re moving to Usolya Fortress. Don’t you worry, sister, I’ll take care of you now.”

Sofia would hear the servants whisper as they cleaned her room, brought her food, and freshened the water on the washing table. The Guards attacked Raven following the archmage’s death and failed. Now there was a war among the great houses. Guard Knights were at White Palace, large men in armor and white cape, the proud crest of the gold sun on their breastplate.

“Lev, I don’t think it was the Shields. I think I killed Uncle.” It wasn’t the first time she had said this, but no one would hear her. Hysteria was her diagnosis, and they would give her more herbs and tonic each time she claimed it.

He sighed.

“No, hear me.” She grabbed his arm. She didn’t want to but had to get his attention. “I don’t think I’m alive. I think I’m a ghost of a dead woman.”

“ Sistra, ” he whispered, caressing her face with his free hand. “We were children here. I taught you to ride because Papa wouldn’t teach girls, here. There’s a collection of little girl dresses in my mother’s wardrobe, yours, sistra. We used to hide from the lightning under the blankets. I remember you, I know you, I love you, and you’re Sofia Guard. You’re alive, always have been, and you’re not a ghost of anyone.

“Your mind isn’t well. A man you loved abandoned you because he was always a dog, you hear? Nothing you did. He was always a dog. Then you witnessed our uncle get murdered, the whole synod slaughtered, and twenty acolytes turned inside out…” His voice faltered. He’d seen the church, Sofia knew because he was the one who came and got her when port patrol found her wandering around Murmia, bloody and looking for Aleksei.

“What killed Uncle, then?” Sofia demanded.

“Father says it was the Shields,” Lev said.

Pyotr Guard blamed the queen for his brother’s demise and reacted by ordering her death. The decision had been hasty, an ill advised thing to do seeing as how their attack on Raven failed.

“Yes, I know. But what do you think?” she asked.

“I mean…” Lev chewed his lip. “It was a lot of fucken magic, Soful, and I don’t know the Shields are capable of such, but who else would it be? The queen hated Uncle and now he’s gone. Maybe she hired an assassin.”

“What assassin can kill the archmage and the entire synod? Come on, Lev,” Sofia said. “Talk to Papa. We can’t be attacking the Shields. They have an army!”

Lev looked tired, older, and said, “Get rest, Soful.”

“No, Lev, I cursed Uncle because I was angry but didn’t think he’d actually die.” She blinked and the tears that had been welling ran down her cheeks. “So many died. I didn’t mean to.”

“If we could kill someone by being angry with them, I’ve killed my whole family,” Lev said. He pulled her and their foreheads touched. “Come on, Soful. You didn’t kill anyone. You’re just not all right.”

“Lev,” she began after a long silence between them. “What is a darkling?”

“A children’s tale? A darkling comes and eats your soul if you’re a naughty child. Come on, Soful. Take the tonic and have a dreamless sleep. Your mind is ill with nightmares.”

“Lev.” Sofia tapped her temple, begging him to think. “If the Shields could kill the archmage, why would they spare you now?”

“Eat something, please, and rest. It’s a long journey to Usolya.”

As Lev got up and headed for the door, Sofia asked, “Have you seen Aleksei?” She’d tried not asking it because Lev had lost men at Raven, but she had to know.

“Yeah.” He stopped but didn’t turn. “He killed Essen and nearly took my head off. He doesn’t care about you.”

“Why did the attack fail?” she asked.

“We never even got to Raven. They knew we were coming.”

“Someone told them? Who?”

“Someone pretending to be my friend. I don’t know… Drink your medicine, sister,” with that, he walked out and left the door open.

The White Palace was shaped like a horseshoe with three palaces connected through curved wings which made some corridors bent like the rim of a circle. Sofia and Lev called them ‘ring rooms’ and they used to love running through them as children. The mood had shifted since, and serious men traversed through the ring rooms, their footsteps heavy, and talked sternly in hushed voices as though the red queen would hear them from Raven.

Sofia, who knew nothing of warfare, listened in the corner as the lords and knights discussed manly things in the amber room. The decadence of Guard wealth, the walls were carved of amber and embellished with gold, and a gold statue of Aleksander the Wise mounted on his beloved steed was erect on a marble plinth at the center of the room.

Sofia sat quietly, her hands on her lap, as Clodt, the captain of Guard Knights, a large man made larger by his armor and cape, paced from the window to the table, making a well worn path on the warm parquet floor. Though there were many more knights in the room, Sofia didn’t know their names.

His father absent, Erik Vietinghoff was vocal, but Lev sat in another corner, and like Sofia, he was silent. His blue eyes kept flicking to the door. He was waiting for someone, she thought.

She listened but didn’t understand because she didn’t know names and the men also kept pointing at the table they stood around. Quietly, she got up and went to look at the table from a distance so she didn’t bother the men around it.

A relief map of Fedosia was laid on the table, the surface raised to indicate hills and depressed where valleys were. She’d seen a map like this in the count’s study, but it had been only of his province. This one was the whole country and had markers with the crests of the houses, and figurines of horses, which she assumed were cavalry, and that of soldiers, infantry, were placed alongside it.

Krasnichit (Red Shield) pins were not at Krakova. They were some distance southwest, by Sarostia. Sofia didn’t understand because that was further away from the White Palace than the capital. Was Aleksei not at Raven? Were the Shields retreating?

She had been frowning at it when Clodt, who’d always been kind, came and petted her head as though she was still a young girl. He was Papa’s age. He pointed on the map, and said, “Usolya Fortress is here. By horse, the travel is about two months. We’ll get there long before it gets cold.”

“Did the Shields leave the capital?” she asked.

He saw what she pointed to, which was Sarostia, and smiled. “That’s the Red Den, my lady. Duke Rodion of Sarostia is the commander of the Shield Army.”

“Rodion is on the move?” Lev asked, getting up to come to the table.

“Not that I’m aware,” Clodt said. “Rodion appears to be sitting this one out. He’s leaving Queen Kseniya to hang. The Shield internal squabble is finally coming home to nest, I suppose.”

“We should take Krakova, Lev.” Erik played with his saber as he pranced around the statue of the general. “The Chartorisky are no one. Their soldiers are plain.”

“So are yours, Vietinghoff,” said Lev. “We don’t have the numbers to take the capital or meet Chartorisky’s main force. We have to rendezvous with Menshikov and Apraksin at Usolya.”

“It’s going to be winter by then,” Erik said. “You’re delaying till next summer, fall even. The Shields will have their differences resolved by then.”

“Do you have information you’d like to share with us, young Vietinghoff?” Clodt teased.

Belayagravdiya (White Guard), Apraksin, and Menshikov were gathering at Usolya Fortress. A tiny space on the map, but Usolya from White Palace was fifteen hundred miles.

Houses Durnov, Chartorisky, and Skuratov were allies of the queen, even Sofia knew that, and Lord Fedya Pulyazin didn’t like to involve his house in ‘western’ politics. Vietinghoff and Apraksin were both small houses, and Guard’s largest ally, Menshikov, was in Bone Country, the reason they were retreating northeast to Usolya Fortress.

Sofia had been thinking about the long trip taking her further away from Aleksei when she heard heavy footsteps in the corridor. It was too heavy to be a servant’s. She turned and saw Lev looking at the door as well.

Semyon Skuratov ran in; his face red, the boy heaved. He’d taken off his heavy iron armor, perhaps to run, and was in his armor tunic only.

Clodt and the other knights were speaking with Papa, their eyes on the map. Though Lord Skuratov would be considered an enemy at this juncture, Semyon was Lev’s friend and her brother smiled and turned to him, his back opening to Erik.

Erik and Semyon saw each other, and both dashed for Lev. Her brother only saw Semyon and his blue eyes grew large, his hand dropping to his hilt because the alchemy on Semyon’s naked sword glowed.

Lev drew his saber, Semyon blew past him, and his sword ran through Erik, slamming into him, as Erik’s steel missed the back of Lev’s head by a hair.

Lev twirled, Sofia gasped, and the knights all turned, drawing their swords, as blood dripped down Semyon’s large blade. He’d run Erik through and through, lifting him off his feet because Semyon was that much larger.

Semyon spat, then freed his blade by tossing Erik’s body aside. He panted, though Sofia suspected that was from his running and not his exchange with Erik Vietinghoff. Guard knights had surrounded Semyon, and Lev held up his hand to halt his men and let Semyon speak.

Semyon wiped Erik’s blood on his tunic before sheathing his sword, catching his breath while he did that.

“That’s who told on us at Raven,” Semyon finally spoke, pointing at Erik on the floor.

“You have anything more than your naked words, boy?” Clodt asked.

Semyon ignored the knight and spoke to Lev. “The red queen is coming for your head. You’re famous, Lev.” He grinned. “Five hundred sentinels ride for White Palace as we speak. That’s all they have and they are throwing it at you. Rodion turned his back on the queen. She can’t win this war, so she’s coming for the kill. Stay and fight or leave for Usolya, it’s your call, Lev, but you must make it now because they’ll be here by tomorrow morning if not tonight.”

“Usolya.” Lev didn’t hesitate. “Make the preparations, Clodt. We leave now.”

“No.” That was Papa and the finality in his tone turned all heads to him.

Sadly, all Sofia could think of was Aleksei was coming. The captain must be riding with his sentinels. She knew there was more to it than that but she didn’t pretend to be a military mind.

“Father—” Lev began but a stern look from the old lord silenced him.

“This is your mother’s home,” Papa said. “We’re not surrendering the White Palace for the red heathens to desecrate. We will stay. We will let the queen batter what little strength she has against our walls while we have dinner, and at the end of it, we will have avenged my brother and ended the war before it even begins.”

“What walls, Father?” Lev was disheartened. “This is a palace. Usolya is a fortress.”

“I know what Usolya is, boy. My father built it,” Papa said. “Run if you must and take your friend with you. This is still my house, and Guards will fight. Tell the men, Clodt.”

“Yes, my lord.” The knight bowed.

The knights followed Papa out as the lord marched toward the purpose in life he’d found after losing it with Auntie’s passing.

It was just Sofia, Lev, and Semyon left in the room when she asked, “What’s wrong, brother?”

“I don’t like it,” he whispered. He stared at Erik on the floor, the blood pooling under him turning dark. “We should clean this before he stinks up the place. Where are the fucken servants?”

Sofia had forgotten he was there and frowned, not at the body but at herself. Perhaps it was the carnage at the church haunting her dreams nightly but her indifference to Erik’s death, then the corpse just lying there, surprised her.

“Is your old man all right?” Semyon asked. “I didn’t see any walls. Did I miss something?”

“You and me both,” Lev muttered. He then picked up his shattered spirit and tried mending it with laughter. “Don’t be too upset when I kill Aleksei, Soful. He had it long coming.”

This was real now, wasn’t it? Sofia bent and closed Erik’s eyes as the two boys walked out, playing with their swords. Aleksei was coming. Then what? Fear snuck up on her and clutched her from behind, holding her in its tight embrace. She squirmed but couldn’t get away from it, and grabbed the table, ruining the map of Fedosia, as her knees gave out. Lev, Papa, Aleksei… the harbinger of death called them all. Was this the price of speaking to shadows?