Wicked Saints (Something Dark and Holy #1) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,15

nodded. “There’s an abandoned church nearby. We found it a few weeks ago and have made it almost livable. It could fall around our ears at any second, but at least it’s warm.”

Anna let out a sharp breath. Nadya glanced at her, but Anna just shook her head.

“And you’ll do this … why? You put a dagger to my neck.”

“I did, but it was very dark. And you helped us. I have a bad habit of picking up those who’ve helped me.” She smiled wryly, but her expression became deadly serious as she glanced up at the sky.

It was clear she knew Nadya had cast the magic. There had never been any true point in trying to hide it. Using her power was inevitable, and the minute she did, people would know Kalyazin had clerics again after a thirty-year absence.

One cleric, at least.

Parijahan rubbed the hilt of her dagger. “I think you can aid us in doing the impossible.”

5

SEREFIN

MELESKI

Svoyatovo Radmila, Nymphadora, and Agrippa Martyvsheva: Triplets blessed by the god Vaclav, the Martyvshevas lived in the center of the dark Chernayevsky Forest in quiet communion with their patron until the heretic Sergiusz Konicki invaded. When he tried to force the Martyvshevas to renounce their patron, they resisted. Konicki killed Nymphadora and Agrippa, burning them and half the Chernayevsky Forest. Radmila fled to safety, spent seven years in contemplation with Vaclav, then hunted Konicki down and burned him alive like he had her sisters.

—Vasiliev’s Book of Saints

The next morning, Serefin woke with a raging hangover and a prisoner to interrogate. It was early, before dawn, and he lay on the stone-hard pallet, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating his fate.

If they found the cleric within the next few days—he was certain they would—it meant a speedy return to Tranavia. It had been years since he had been in Tranavia for longer than a few months. The war was all he had.

He wasn’t sure he remembered how to be the High Prince instead of the blood mage general at the helm of the army.

Serefin sat up and was rewarded by a headache pounding a hammer against his temple. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He shrugged on his coat and tried to ignore that his mouth tasted as if he had chewed on sawdust all night.

He opened the door to find his entire company in a panic.

“Your Highness, I was just coming to wake you,” Ostyia called.

He blinked at the pair of soldiers who were crashing through the hall past her, shouting something about the end of the world.

“I’m going back to bed,” he said. He’d had enough of this ridiculous country and their ridiculous religion and maybe the end of the world would stop the absolutely blinding headache he had acquired.

“Serefin!”

“Oh, yell a little more, Ostyia, please.”

He turned back, regretting the motion immediately as the room spun. He pressed a hand to his face, slouching against the doorframe.

She was fighting a smile. He was going to kill her. “Do you want me to get you something for that hangover?” she asked sweetly.

“No—yes, water, just water.” He waved a hand. This wasn’t fair. He was certain she’d had more to drink than him the night before. “Then someone tell me what’s going on.” He rested his forehead against the stones, cool against his skin.

Ostyia returned a few moments later, handing him a full skin of water. It didn’t help. He kept a hand pressed to his temple as he signaled her to brief him.

“Sometime around three o’clock in the morning everything in the sky went out.”

He flinched as he raised an eyebrow. Why did that hurt? “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means the whole world went dark for about fifteen minutes last night.”

Serefin’s eyes narrowed.

“Also a scout we sent in the direction of the Kalyazi girls never returned,” Ostyia continued. “Are you allowed to kill people if you’re the hand of the divine?”

He ignored that.

“Should I order the rest of the company to move out? We can have them sent ahead.”

He considered her suggestion. “Hold that order.” He wanted to send the rest of the company with Teodore while he sought out the cleric.

“You’re giving her time to get away.”

“I still have her trail. I need something more to ground the spell. We’re going to get it now.”

Serefin followed Ostyia through the sparse and cold hallways of the monastery and into the opulent sanctuary. He didn’t understand why so much money was poured into creating something for the purpose