so prepared to kill someone like me?”
Nadya caught Serefin’s hand going to the blade at his belt. She edged closer to Malachiasz.
The girl was breathing hard, but a cold smile tugged at her mouth.
Malachiasz grinned back, teeth iron. “You think you’re a Vulture hunter, little wolf? Did you think those teeth harvested from my kind made you special?” He lifted the string of teeth around the girl’s neck with an iron claw. “Can I tell you a secret?” His sick smile tugged farther at his mouth. “I know every tooth on this string and every Vulture you have stolen from still lives. All you are is a girl with no magic and a dull blade and a string of teeth.”
That’s enough of that, Nadya thought, tipping her voryen under his chin. “You of all people should know not to underestimate a girl with a blade.” She tapped the flat against his cheek. “Let her up, you’ve made your point.”
He let the girl scramble to her feet. He rested his elbows on his knees, hands tipped with iron claws remaining menacingly visible.
She was tall, with refined features as though cut from glass. She wore a Kalyazi military jacket in deep navy and had a voryen gripped tight in one fist; her sharp green eyes were strangely dilated. What odd new companion had Serefin picked up? And what was he doing here?
“Can—can I see that?” she asked, holding her hand out for the dagger. The girl clearly thought it could harm Malachiasz. Was it another relic?
The girl’s gaze left Malachiasz’s briefly, her eyes narrowing on Nadya’s outstretched hand. She glanced at Serefin wryly.
His eyebrows lifted; he leaned back against a tree. What was Serefin doing with a Vulture hunter who held herself with the clear airs of a noble?
“I took every tooth myself,” she said to Malachiasz.
“Do you think our teeth don’t grow back?” Malachiasz retorted, his voice treacherously pleasant. “Do you think pulling a tooth from our mouths will do some irreparable harm?”
“They were dead when I took them,” the girl snapped.
“Darling, we are very good at surviving.”
She cocked her head. Her posture was incredibly relaxed for someone who had just been thrown to the ground by the Black Vulture.
“You’re with him?” she asked Nadya.
Nadya rested her hand in Malachiasz’s hair. That strange spark of magic lit under her fingers but she ignored it. “I’m the one who’s keeping him from ripping your throat out, yes.”
“Easy,” Serefin said, his voice low.
“Let me see the blade,” Nadya said, harder this time.
The girl laughed. “You don’t order me.”
“Nadya,” Serefin broke in wearily, “might I introduce one Tsarevna Yekaterina Vodyanova?”
All the blood drained from Nadya’s face. What?
“Katya,” Serefin continued, “that is Nadezhda Lapteva, your cleric. Please never make me introduce two Kalyazi to each other ever again. I’m going to go nurse my wounded pride.”
The tsarevna looked smug. She flipped her voryen over and handed it hilt first to Nadya, who took it, dazed. The future ruler of Kalyazin was standing in front of her and she was traveling with the Black Vulture. There was no way to spin that as a good thing. But, as Nadya gave it more thought, she realized being around Serefin had desensitized her to the idea of royalty. She might as well act like she wasn’t rattled by this turn of events.
“Did you think this would kill him?” Nadya tapped the flat of the blade against Malachiasz’s cheek. “Anything?”
“I think—”
“No?”
“I think you have to use it the other way,” Malachiasz offered helpfully. He mimed being stabbed.
Nadya snorted softly. They both knew that wasn’t true. Her bone relic hurt him by just being near him. This was nothing more than an average blade. She handed it to Malachiasz.
He shifted off his heels, sitting down. His eyes cleared, claws receding except for one, which he used to slice open his forearm. Katya winced. He rifled through his spell book for a few seconds before tearing out a page and wrapping the dagger in it. The paper blew into ash in his hands. He flipped it in the air, catching it by the tip and offering it to the tsarevna.
“If you’d like to test it, you can stab me. I’d survive but you would feel very good doing it, Wécz Joczocy??,” he said.
She bared her teeth at him. He tossed the voryen at her. She caught it by the hilt.
“Well,” Malachiasz continued, “this is all a nice little coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Shut up, Malachiasz,” Nadya said.
Malachiasz’s single lifted eyebrow was turned on