dead for long.
They returned to the palace, finding Katya, who extricated herself from a pack of boyar when they stumbled upon her in a wide hall and promptly ferried them into her rooms. Her dogs were fast at her heels. She looked ill and had a piece of paper clutched in her hand that she thrust at Nadya.
Nadya took it, her heart falling as she read. It was a long and angry screed about her. Again, how Kalyazin could no longer look to their clerics to save them. That she was in bed with the Vultures—her face heated—and only ever a false cleric.
A mad girl hearing the voices of devils, not our gods. A girl, deluded and broken.
A screed to turn to the Church, the only thing that would save them. That the heretics were being fought back but would return in their murderous quest for Kalyazi blood.
“What is it?” Anna asked. Nadya shifted the paper slightly so Anna could read. She paled. “Nadya.”
“I know,” Nadya snapped.
“It has the Church’s seal on it,” Katya said flatly.
“I know. How did they find out about him?” Nadya asked.
Katya shrugged. “You were traveling openly through Kalyazin. Didn’t you stop at a monastery?”
Nadya felt the blood drain from her face. “And that’s it?”
Katya chewed on her lip. “Together with everything else, yes. I’ve been accosted by too many boyar, here from their territories because of what’s happening out there.”
The monster attacks, the strange things happening with religious iconography, it was all going to spiral steadily into chaos until the final arresting moment when Chyrnog struck.
Nadya blinked back tears. She could feel the dark thing from before pushing at her thoughts. Maybe the propaganda was right.
Just a girl who talks with monsters.
What dwelled here, beneath the city, that recognized her? What dwelled in the swamps?
“You didn’t know about these?” Parijahan asked Anna.
Anna shook her head vehemently. “I knew the Church had sent out edicts. And I—I knew there were whispers about the cleric, but—Nadya, please.”
Nadya sat down heavily. All her irrational fears had come horribly true.
“A few boyar brought me others. As well as my father’s favorite pet, a holy man named Dimitry.” Distaste colored her voice. “They’ve been circulating for a while now,” Katya said softly. “They want someone to blame.”
There was a knock at the door and Katya called for them to enter. A servant came in, handing Katya a slip of paper. A slow smile broke across her face as she read.
“Go find Viktor Artamonov. Tell him I need to speak to the girl with one eye, then send her to the eastern courtyard.”
Nadya perked up at that.
Katya clapped her hands together. “New crisis! We’ve got to hide a king before word gets out and I’ve got a real mess on my hands.” Abruptly she got up and left the room.
Silence stretched out, Nadya, Parijahan, and Anna staring at each other in shock.
“What?” Nadya said incredulously, her mind reeling. “Katya, what?” She ran after her.
Katya walked swiftly through the palace and into a wing that Nadya hadn’t seen yet. She would get lost if she didn’t keep up. Eventually they spilled out into a back courtyard inaccessible from the outside.
A small company of Kalyazi soldiers waited there. Among them Nadya recognized Milomir.
It was deeply weird, to be searching for him. After what he’d done, after everything. But nevertheless, she pressed past the others to where the king of Tranavia stood.
It had only been a few months, but the gashes on his face had healed to scars and were more plentiful, and he wore an eye patch. His brown hair was tied back, making him look more like Malachiasz than Nadya remembered. It was silly they hadn’t known they were brothers. The two had the same knife-sharp cheekbones and ice-pale eyes—though Serefin’s single eye was a dark pupilless blue now. He tensed when he saw her, hand reaching reflexively for a spell book he didn’t have.
Before she realized what she was doing, she slammed into him. He let out a startled breath before he laughed, returning the embrace.
“I didn’t know we were friends like this,” Serefin said.
She buried her face against the furs on his collar. She hadn’t either, frankly. But she couldn’t fault him for what had happened on that mountain. “You’re an idiot.”
“True.” She felt him kiss the side of her head.
“I didn’t realize we were friends like this,” Nadya said wryly.
“Nadya, I can’t stand you.” He was quiet before murmuring, “I’m sorry.”
Her arms tightened around his neck. Then she leaned