The gods are greedy, they take and they fight and what is left but for those in the world to suffer their mistakes.
—The Books of Innokentiy
“We went from ‘things could be worse, but we’re managing’ to ‘things literally could not be worse’ in, what, four hours? Five? Is that a new record for us?”
Serefin tipped over until his head was in Kacper’s lap. Kacper did not let that deter him from telling Serefin quite concisely how screwed they were.
“Who was the terrifying church lady? It sounded like she knew Nadya and her mother, which, I didn’t realize we even knew who Nadya’s mother was.”
“We don’t,” Ostyia said quietly.
“We don’t! Great! Do we know anything?”
“Kacper,” Serefin said.
“Because it seems to me like we’ve been thrown in the Komyazalov prisons and the tsar is coming back and we’re all going to get our heads cut off!”
“Kacper, shut up!” Nadya groaned from somewhere nearby.
Well, at least they were in the same cell block. Easier to round them up for execution, he supposed. He sighed, fiddling with the patch over his eye. His head hurt.
“Don’t mess with that,” Ostyia said, gently pulling his hand away. “It’s going to act up and you have to push through until you don’t notice it.”
He looked up at her. She smiled sadly at him.
“Sorry that we have this in common, now,” she said.
“We match!” Serefin replied.
“Blood and bone, I missed you.”
At least Kacper had calmed down enough to bide his time by rubbing his thumb in slow circles against the spot just behind Serefin’s ear. The tiniest comfort. He sat up, sliding his hand behind Kacper’s head, tugging him closer until their foreheads pressed together.
“I’m not letting us be executed in Komyazalov,” he said, voice soft. “We can die literally anywhere else.”
Kacper wheezed out an anxious laugh. Serefin kissed him, a gentle press of his mouth. It was hard to not keep going. To not kiss him harder, to let his desperation take over. He had to stay calm.
The longer they let Malachiasz rot in a cell with Chyrnog churning inside him, the more danger they were in. Serefin hoped Katya understood that. He trusted the tsarevna about as far as he could throw her—and she was very tall so he couldn’t imagine it was far, honestly—but things would have been worse if that church leader had taken them. Katya had been manipulating the situation back into her control.
But Katya had killed Żywia, which was wildly unnecessary as she had been helping them. And—fuck.
Serefin stood up so fast that Kacper jumped. “Where’s Żaneta?” he asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice and failing.
Kacper shot him a wounded look. Oh, no, he wasn’t—he couldn’t be—was he jealous? Did he think Serefin wanted the girl who had betrayed him? Who did he think he was, Nadya?
“Don’t be silly,” he murmured. “If the tsarevna got her hands on Żaneta, she’s dead, and Ruminski would—”
“Don’t you dare speak of my father.”
Relief spread through Serefin.
“You’re so bloody loud, shut up. Let me sleep until my execution, please.”
“No one is getting executed,” Serefin muttered.
Nadya and Ostyia made near identical noises of disbelief. He’d forgotten for a fleeting second that Ostyia had spent the past few months with Nadya. This was a nightmare.
The cell they were locked in was cramped. A heavy wooden door, one lone window cut into the center with bars over it. He could see another door across the hall. Nadya must be there. Żaneta’s voice had carried from the same general direction. Where was Malachiasz?
“I doubt we’re going to have useful conversation like this,” Nadya said, sounding weary. “We have about ten minutes before the next guard rotation comes through and they tell us to shut up.”
“That will sound familiar,” Kacper said.
“Do we know where Malachiasz ended up?” he asked amiably.
“Oh, he’s here,” Nadya said, her voice gentle. “He’s unconscious.”
Serefin considered the space of the cells. “Be careful if he starts having seizures.”
“Of course he does that now,” Nadya muttered.
“Why didn’t they separate us?” Kacper asked.
“Ostyia’s dramatic paramour is trying to be helpful while she also betrays us,” Nadya said.
“Nadya, I’m going to kill you,” Ostyia said.
Ah, he’d wondered if that had progressed in his absence. He glanced at Ostyia and she shrugged.
“Please.”
Nadya was right, though. Katya knew they couldn’t remain trapped; they would run out of time.
“Everyone shut up.” Katya threw open both cell doors in one impressively fluid motion. “No, you can’t go anywhere. Yes, the Church wants the executions of, well, all of you. I am holding onto the situation by the barest tips of my fingers and my father will return in a matter of days.”
Katya peered into the cell where Malachiasz was, his head in Nadya’s lap where she sat with her back to the wall.
“Would this end if we killed him?” she asked Nadya.
“Chyrnog would find another vessel. We didn’t try killing Serefin when Velyos had him, did we?”
“Velyos is harmless by comparison.”
“That’s rude.”
Where have you been?
“You had the situation in hand. Cvjetko was never going to last long in this bold new world anyway.”
Serefin moved into the doorway. Nadya’s edges looked shivery and strange, like she wasn’t totally in the same realm of reality.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
She closed her eyes. “No. I want to know what the Matriarch was talking about.”
“Magdalena’s told everyone you’re a heretic and a witch and going to be burned,” Katya said. “And considering the display earlier, public opinion was easily swayed.”
Nadya sighed.
“I have questions myself. What are you?”
“I don’t know.”
Katya tilted her head.
“I don’t know,” Nadya repeated.
“I can’t shake the feeling that we need to be stopping you as well.”
“Well, we’re going to be executed,” Serefin pointed out.
“Do you truly think I’m going to allow that?”
“Katya, it’s very hard to tell if you want to help us or not. You didn’t have to kill that Vulture.”
Katya lifted her chin. “Yes. I did. I would kill him too at the first chance.”
He sighed. There would be no cracking that layer of zealotry.
She rubbed a hand over her face. “I only have a few more minutes; I’m not supposed to be down here. Ugh, you all are the worst things that ever happened to me.”
“Going to take that as a compliment.” Ostyia smiled.
Katya shot her a very dry look.
“Stay calm. There must be a way out of this.”
Serefin exchanged a glance with Nadya. What did she know that he didn’t? Did she know about the awakened ones? About what Chyrnog wanted Malachiasz to do?
He straightened with alarm. “Move Malachiasz out of that cell.”
Katya frowned. Nadya made a small noise, curling around Malachiasz protectively.
“No, Nadya, you don’t want to be in that space with him if he wakes, he’s not—” Footsteps echoed in the distance. “I can’t explain, there’s no time. Katya—”
“Already doing it,” Katya said.
Kacper ducked out to help her haul one lanky blood mage farther down, Nadya protesting the whole way.
“Shut up and get back in your cells, I’ll return soon.” Katya slammed the doors closed and disappeared down the hall. A guard patrol came through moments later.
“What the hell, Serefin?” Nadya cried when they were gone.
“I don’t know how to put it more elegantly than he’d eat you, Nadya.”
There was a beat of silence.
“What?”
“Oh, so we’re not talking like in a fun—”
“Żaneta, thank you for your contribution, but I’m going to have to ask you to not.” Serefin rested his forehead against the wall. “He doesn’t have control. Chyrnog has him, well, consuming beings with a lot of magic and you’re almost definitely included.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve been informed I am ‘something else’ and thus not yet on the menu.”
Nadya sighed.
There was nothing more to do. Time passed. One day, less, more, who knew. Malachiasz woke up but only gave Serefin a few terse words before descending into silence. Serefin didn’t press. He was allowed to mourn. He heard Nadya whispering to him, but he mostly ignored her, too.
“Is Katya waiting for her father?” Kacper muttered at one point, and the thought terrified Serefin.
But when soldiers came and took Nadya, Serefin realized something might have gone very wrong with Katya’s plans.