Blessed Monsters (Something Dark and Holy #3) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,83

on the table and departed.

“Seems a little light for you,” she noted.

“The sun just came up,” Katya replied. “Give me a few hours before I get into my cups.”

“You are much like Serefin in that way.”

Katya lifted an eyebrow. She sighed and tilted her head.

“He was at the front far longer than me, and at a much younger age. I was mostly kept from harm, but I did a few months out there, and what you see … never really goes away. The drinking dulls the memories, some.”

“Do you like him?”

Katya took a moment to consider. “I’m fond of Serefin.”

“But you like Ostyia.” Nadya wasn’t one to tease Katya, so it came out of nowhere, and Katya blushed.

“This is absolutely not why you called me here at the crack of dawn,” she said, her voice strained.

“I need someone to talk to who will know about this,” Nadya said with a sigh, tugging off her glove. She showed Katya the eye at the center.

Katya’s face paled. “The Matriarch—”

“Not the Matriarch.”

The tsarevna took a long sip of her tea, eyeing Nadya’s hand. It was quiet in the room for a long time. Nadya could hear the palace slowly coming to life outside her window. Katya stared up at the ceiling, clearly puzzling through things.

“Gods. He was right, wasn’t he?”

“I have found Malachiasz did not make a habit of being wrong.”

Katya tapped the arm of her chair.

“Katya. I know we don’t see eye to eye. You find me suspicious. Though, frankly, me traveling with the Black Vulture was about as weird as you traveling with the King of Tranavia. I’m not the cleric that was promised, and for that, I’m sorry, but this is bigger than the war and you know it.”

“It’s not that I find you suspicious, darling, it’s that you’re so damn stubborn and unwilling to work with me,” Katya said, with the light drawl of someone avoiding Nadya’s point. “And I don’t think you’re going to turn Kalyazin over to the Tranavians you love so much; you certainly proved your loyalties on that mountain.”

Nadya flinched. “Anna told me about the Quiet Sinners.”

Katya groaned.

“Katya…”

“I’m not going to defend the Church.”

“I know. Just, please, tell Viktor to keep an eye on Rashid.”

Nadya didn’t miss the way the tsarevna’s eyes widened. “Oh.” She was quiet before continuing. “Viktor isn’t nearly as devout as he wanted you to believe. He’ll be trustworthy.”

Trustworthy. That was what this was now. They had to figure out who they could trust. Because it wasn’t the Church she had once loved so much. If they knew what she was, they would kill her.

“How did you learn about the fallen gods? And the old gods? I know you know, Katya. What the decay means, what the forests moving past their borders means. It’s all going to end. Everything is going to end. Who can we talk to?”

“Pelageya.”

“Someone else,” Nadya groaned. “We don’t have the time to hunt her down.” Nadya picked the icon up off the table and handed it to Katya, who took it with a frown. “How long until the other icons in this palace are the same? The longer I’m here, the more likely it is to happen, and then no number of lies will hide what I am.”

“You’re a monster,” Katya whispered. She wasn’t leveling an accusation; it was a statement of the truth.

“It depends how you look at it, I suppose.”

“But you didn’t set the old god free.”

“No, but someone did. I don’t know if it was Serefin, or Malachiasz, or someone else entirely.”

“Even the old gods cannot work without a vessel.”

“How do we know he doesn’t have one? The cultists, the sects dedicated to these gods, how do we know that he hasn’t claimed one of them? Or someone who has had power awakened in them? Katya. I need to know what I am. I cannot stop him if I don’t get answers.”

“I don’t know if you can stop him at all.”

27

MALACHIASZ CZECHOWICZ

Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up. Don’t wake him up.

—Passage from the personal journals of Innokentiy Tamarkin

He hadn’t meant to lose control. Well, he had. He had and he hadn’t. A well-timed admonishment by Chyrnog gave him the means to escape. He had quickly figured out the rudimentary Kalyazi tracking spell—Serefin could find him if he needed to, and he had a plan.

No. No, he didn’t. He didn’t have a