Her words rang heavy in Ana’s head, along with a budding realization: This was the type of worldshewanted to make, too. One where a small earth Affinite could sit on a sidewalk and grow flowers. Where a young blood Affinite could look at her own two hands and realize the tremendous amount of good she could do with them, instead of seeing her power as something wicked, an abomination she would spend years trying to bleed out of her body.
Ana looked away, shielding her eyes against the brightening sky. “How did you come to join the Redcloaks?”
Liliya’s smile slipped slightly. “Goldwater Port was taken over by the Imperial Inquisition the day you left. Mama sent me and Yuri away before they closed off the city. We were going to lie low for several weeks, and she was going to send us a snowhawk once things cleared up. But…” She swallowed and turned away. “They killed her.”
The sentence knocked the breath from Ana’s lungs. She remembered the cheerful yellow wallpaper of the Kostovs’ family restaurant; the feel of Raisa’s sturdy, firm hands as they’d helped bandage a wound; her bright laughter as she’d told Ana stories from Yuri’s childhood.
“I’m so sorry, Liliya.” The words fell from her lips, small, inadequate, a drop of water in an ocean.
The girl blinked rapidly, staring ahead. “That’s why I joinedthe Redcloaks. Because this?” She exhaled and swept a hand before them. “This is the world I would have wanted to live in with my mama and my bratika. Yuri left us so young only because he was an Affinite and he was safer apprenticed at the Palace. I’m here so that willneverhave to happen with another family again.”
The words sounded so familiar, Ana could have spoken them herself. She swallowed at the ache in her throat as she watched two Affinite children chase each other around, one shooting puffs of air from her hands while the other sent small blades of green grass whirling from her palms.
“But I think what happened with Mama affected Yuri the most,” Liliya continued quietly.
Ana’s attention snapped back. “What do you mean?”
“He was the one who saw her body. He’d gone to Novo Mynsk on a scouting mission. When he came back, he was…” She shook her head, frowning. “…different. Darker. I can’t really explain it. But he’s my bratika—I felt it.”
Ana thought of the way he’d looked down at her as one might a piece of dirt on their shoe, the passion and emotions he’d onceworn so clearly on his face hardened to something cold, unfeeling.
As they walked, the tents around them began to turn from small sleeping quarters to larger ones, some even installed with windows of sorts. The casual clothing and fur cloaks around them shifted to the livery of Redcloaks: black boots and black cloaks that flipped bright red on the inside. They had to be nearing the command quarters of the campsite.
Liliya slowed. “We’re here.”
They’d reached a large tent somewhere at the center of the camp. A black-haired boy leaned against a conifer, his facialfeatures smooth, resembling those of the Aseatic kingdoms. He straightened as they approached.
“This is Lei,” Liliya said. “He’s a silver Affinite and our resident lockpicker.” She gave Ana a rueful smile. “He’s going to get those awful chains off you.”
Tentatively, Lei took Ana’s wrists, careful not to touch the blackstone. In his hands, he held a clump of silver. He squeezed his eyes shut and the metal began to morph like liquid, twisting like a silver serpent. It flowed from his palm into the keyholes in the cuffs, filling them.
Then it hardened.
With two neat clicks, the blackstone chains fell away. Ana flung them to the ground, rubbing her wrists, which had been chafed red and raw.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and turned to Liliya, clasping the girl’s hands in her own. “And thank you, Liliya.”
“Just promise me one thing,” Liliya said seriously, those light-gray eyes so similar to Yuri’s. She leaned closer, and a conspiratorial smile broke on her face. “I’m trying to start this campaign of having all the kids around here call Yuri ‘Firebraids.’ Promise me you’ll help out?”
Ana laughed out loud. It had been so long since she’d felt this kind of joy, the sound came as a surprise.
At that moment, amid the people bustling around them, Yuri strode into sight. His hair was mussed, gleaming red in the sunlight, and he looked harried but somehow even more energized as he finished a conversation with a few other Redcloaks.
He glanced up as they approached, and his expression grew dark.
Liliya looked to Ana, her grin fading slightly. “I’m off on otherduties,” she whispered. “Good luck. If my brother bullies you, you let me know, and I’ll show him who’s boss.” A wink, and then the girl turned and wove through the tents, disappearing from sight.
Ana’s smile dropped as she turned to follow Yuri toward his tent.
If only it were that simple.
—
The interior of Yuri’s tent was large, crammed to bursting. Trunks were heaped at the edges, overflowing with tomes. Crates had been turned into makeshift chairs and tables, and on them were an array of scrolls and charcoal pencils. Fireglobes, both used and new, littered the place. In one corner was a roost of snowhawks, their pale plumage sleek in the firelight where they rested. They chirped softly, awaiting letters to be sent.
Yuri took a seat at one of the crates. He followed her eyes, his face turning at once defensive. “Sorry it’s not Salskoff Palace. We’re not exactly overflowing with funding at the moment.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Ana replied shortly.
