“Your dress is trimmed with fur, Iz.”
“It’s neither feathers nor scales. Not to mention, it’s synthetic.”
Ksenia flips her a smile that steals all the softness from her features. “Is that what the tailor made you believe?” She runs a finger across the white pelt. “I guarantee that this comes from a real animal, and not one thatmolted.”
When the blood leaches from Izolda’s cheeks, I snap, “Enough!”
Ksenia backs up into the reception area. “I couldn’t agree more. I’ve had more than enough.” And then she’s pivoting andstriding into the provisional ice cavern, snatching a glass off the platter tendered by one of the waiters.
“I hate the humans she’s befriended.” Izolda trembles with anger. “Ever since she’s made friends with them, I don’t recognize Ksenia.”
Our sister’s bitterness toward us has flared in recent years, but she’d started pulling away the day I killed Alyona. Ksenia had fled the castle and had stayed gone for weeks. I should’ve brought her back to us. Should’ve explained things better. Should’ve sought her out more often after she’d finally returned. I hadn’t. At the time, she’d had Izolda. When Aodhan became the axis of her twin’s world, the rift between us had become a chasm.
“When Ksenia left us after Alyona’s death, where did she go live?” I ask.
“Up north. In West Sheva. She apparently grew close with Volkovs’ youngest son. She never confirmed an involvement but she also never denied one. I tried to go meet with him once, but Aodhan stopped me. It was around the time our bond snapped into place. I’d been really ticked off by his intervention.” Her gaze acquires a faraway gleam, but her lips, a mischievous one. “Turns out anger can be quite the aphrodisiac. Just you wait for your first fight with Isla. Just you wait.”
Heat engulfs my chest anew since every spat we’ve had has elevated my pulse with more than mere irritation.
“I’m going to get a drink.” Izolda pulls away. “Want one?”
Before I can answer, Salom appears and pulls me aside for a quick word. He dismisses the servers and guards standing too close, save for Borat who lands on his shoulder, small chest lifting and falling with worrying haste.
“Did you find them?” I ask, once we’re somewhat isolated.
“We foundhim,” my general says.
“But not her?” I ask.
Borat shakes his head, causing his long brown ponytail to sway.
“Take me to him.” I don’t get more than one stride in before Salom claps my shoulder.
“He’s dead, Kostya.”
A chill seizes my chest. “What? You…?” I can’t even finish my sentence.
“No. He was lying face down in a clearing when we found him. Bullet hole to the head.”
My lids spasm.
“I might’ve hated Svyato for threatening to come after you after Olena’s death”—Salom’s amber stare darts around the room, probably on the hunt for eavesdroppers—“but I didn’t kill him.”
Though I won’t debrief the soldiers who took part in the chase myself, they’ll be interrogated. “What of theboss?”
“We asked around, but no one seems to know who it could be.”
“There must be something at the tavern that links them! Some deed or?—”
“There’s nothing left of the tavern.” Salom’s thick throat jostles with a swallow.
“Burned to the ground,” Borat murmurs.
The news sheds light on the noise that had leapt off the shot glass when my ship had berthed in the capital. I’d assumed the crackle and pop were the sound of Isla’s sigil fizzling. To think I hadn’t mentioned it to keep her from thinking her magic was deficient.
I jam my fingers into fists, then hiss through barely separated teeth, “Find the girl. Find the boss. Find both, tonight.”
Borat springs off Salom’s shoulder as both turn heel.
