He’s right. It won’t.
“I was going to be best man at their wedding next month.” He grips the bridge of his nose and then he’s shouting a long string offucksand dancing away from me to punch my walls until his knuckles split. “I get to kill them. Promise me, Kostya. Promise me that I get to kill every last one of those sons of bitches.”
“You get to kill them.”
“Fucking monsters.” He wipes his hand on his trousers, smearing the cool-gray wool with ruby tracks.
“Can you find out if Alyona ever traveled to West Sheva in the months prior to her death, or if one of them took a trip to Voshna to visit Svyato?”
“Why? Do you think their act of terror is delayed vengeance?”
I hesitate to tell my brother what I think, since an explanation will require a revelation. He’s in no state to contend with the news that he’s an uncle.
“Can you just find someone who’d know, Ilyusha?”
He nods, while I ponder the possibility that Mestyla might be the daughter of one of Volkov’s sons. Then again, they’re all half-bloods and my niece has peaked ears.
Who did you screw, sister?
I think of what my brother said about the sleighs being laden with luggage. What if it isn’t luggage but more explosives? What if they plan to terrorize more cities and blow up more train tracks on their way to the capital, since I imagine this is their destination. Especially if Mestyla has somehow breached my city walls.
“Have Aodhan and Imogen canvas Garaglace,” I tell him. “And have Salom alert the railway troops. I want the entire kingdom on high alert.”
“Eighty percent of Glace is mountains. Canvasing Garaglace will take weeks.”
“If we’re searching for a delegation of sleighs, they should be easy enough to spot from the air.”
“What if they’ve split up?”
“Lone sleighs are still noticeable against the snow, Ilya.”
My brother scrutinizes the framed map of Glace.
“Ask Aodhan to speak with Lorcan and see if he can dispatch more Crows up north. Even one extra set of wings would be a boon.”
Ilya nods, still studying the map as though willing it to light up with dots to pinpoint the Volkovs’ location.
“Now go find Salom and Aodhan and fill them in.”
Ilya yanks open the door to find my general looming on the threshold.
“I was just about to knock,” Salom says, arms at his sides.
Was he, or was he eavesdropping?
“I heard about what happened up north.” His lips scrunch. “I’m afraid I have more bad news for you, Kostya.”
After he delivers it and leaves with my brother, I sit at my desk and toy with my crown for a long, long while, spinning it over and over until the stones smudge into a long streak of icy-azure. I realize I promised Isla not to keep secrets from her, but I don’t want to tell her any of this.
Tiana, because of how well the two had gotten along.
Ksenia, because of how inept her disappearance will make me look.
I spendthe next half-hour poring over correspondence I’ve been putting off, most of it thank you notes from Jubilee attendees to accompany the lavish gifts I tasked Izolda with sorting through. The celebration for my reign feels like it took place eons ago.
I pop open yet another wax seal, this one unadorned with a crest, then skip over the paragraphs of heavily-slanted scrawl to the signature:a concerned and loyal subject.I’m about to toss it aside, especially after catching Salom’s name near the bottom ofwhat I imagine will be a complaint, when another proper noun sears my cornea.
Your Highness,
