I was feeling much better, and I’d be back in lessons as normal the next day, so I’d just have to find Sanya and force the issue then. We had to talk at some point. We’d be hunting together.

But the next morning, we’d barely started warming up when a servant scurried into the arena and whispered into Vasilij’s ear. His gray-sky eyes flashed and scanned over all of us standing before him. Mariya, flanking Vasilij just as she used to Yelena, gave the servant a pointed look as he left.

“Aleksandr Artyomovich,” Vasilij said, “come here.”

I snapped to attention.

If Sanya was wary, he didn’t show it. He marched up to Vasilij and the two had a brief, hushed conversation that made me wish I could read lips. Mariya wished the same thing, I thought, judging by the disgruntled look on her face.  When they were done, Vasilij resumed his instructions to the rest of us, and Sanya went through the crowd, tapping people on the shoulder. He whispered in their ears, and they nodded, or their mouths hung slightly open, their eyes widened, and they followed him. I stood up straighter as though that would encourage Sanya to consider me, but he didn’t glance in my direction. I was halfway to having hurt feelings about it before I realized, as he led the group out of the arena, that nearly everyone he’d picked had flecks of yellow somewhere on their outfits: Veliko.

Semchik hit me on the shoulder to call my attention back up front. Vasilij’s face was hard, but he continued like nothing had happened.

I leaned into Semchik. “That was all the kids from Veliko. Something must have happened. They’re going home.”

“If it’s any of our business, we’ll hear about it later,” he said, eyes front. They flicked over to me for just a moment. “Filipp Artyomovich went, too.”

“Shit. What do you think that means?”

Mariya’s eyes locked on us, and I shut my mouth.

***

It was hard to focus on training that morning. When we sparred, Nikolaj Ivanovich almost got in my defenses, and I had to use an unexpected burst of myortva to keep from getting hit in the face.

“That was close,” he said, grinning and brandishing his practice sword at me.

“Do you think they’re coming back?” I asked, shaking my hand out.

“Who? Oh. No. Do you know what I heard?” His eyes lit up. “I heard Knyaz Fadej’s brother was ambushed on his way to inspect one of his estates. They can’t let that pass.”

“Who told you that?” I put my guard back up.

“Just a rumor that’s been going around.” He came at me, and I blocked two of his strikes before pushing him back.

“Aren’t you worried about it? It’s happening on the border with Tsura, isn’t it?”

“We’re a lot better defended than those hayseeds in Veliko.” He laughed.

“But won’t your grandfather want to send help?”

“Well…” Before Nikolaj could finish his noncommittal response, Vasilij called: “Iyu Aksanevich! Come up here; I want to demonstrate something.”

***

When we broke at noon, I shoved some bread in my mouth, and went poking around to see if I could find Sanya. The bunks where the kids from Veliko had been staying were all clear. Sanya didn’t sleep in the barracks, so I wouldn’t get any clues there.

As luck would have it, I ran into Lyubov Maksimovna as I was skulking around the royal residence.

“You!” she said, scooping up her skirts with one hand and shaking her finger with the other. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“Vasilij Artyomovich said I could go. But I came to apologize! Look, I brought you something.” I dug in my pockets and pulled out some Akassiyan candy Chabas had given me the night before.

“What is this?” She took the little paper packages from my hand and squinted at them.

“It’s candy,” I said. “It’s good.” I hadn’t actually tried it yet—I never had much of a sweet tooth.

“Okay,” she said, dropping the candy in her apron pocket. “What do you really want?”

“I told you, I came to apologize.” I grinned. “But…”

“There it is. Out with it.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a satisfied smirk.

“Have you seen Aleksandr Artyomovich?”

Her smirk dropped. “They haven’t told you kids yet.”

“Told us what?” My heart jumped.

“If Vasilij Artyomovich hasn’t told you, I’m not going to be the one to do it.” She hitched up her skirts again and stepped around me.

“Please, Lyubov Maksimovna!” I hurried after her.

“Why do you want to know?” She studiously avoided my gaze. “If it concerns you, you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Is he still here? Did he leave? Is he going to Veliko? Did Filipp Artyomovich go, too? Did they leave yet?”

“I don’t really know anything,” she said. “You’d better just wait until Knyaz Artyom decides what to do.”

“Decides what to do? Does that mean they’re still here?”

“I can’t…”

“Lyubov Maksimovna.” I jumped in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Do me this one favor, and I’ll never ask anything of you ever again.”

She removed my hands from her shoulders. “I don’t—”

“Just tell me where Aleksandr Artyomovich stays. If he’s still here. Just tell me where his rooms are.”

She gave me a long-suffering look.

“I won’t make any trouble, and I won’t say a word about you telling me. I just need to apologize to him. And thank him. I have to do it before he leaves. Please.”

***

Five minutes later, I knocked on a big wooden door in a narrow hallway and hoped that I’d gotten Lyuba’s directions right. If I knocked on the wrong door and interrupted Knyagina Ulyana’s bed rest, I’d—

The door opened and Sanya stood there. When he saw me, his eyebrows shot up. On him, it was as good as a scream.

“Sanya! I’m sorry! I had to tell you before you went—”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, slamming the door shut behind me. After that display, I braced myself to be yelled at or maybe punched. He said nothing. Because I was bracing myself, I also said nothing, so we spent a long, uncomfortable moment in silence.

I was the first to break, of course. “I’m sorry I tried to pull zhiva out of myself. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I couldn’t get the gnila out. Thank you for not telling your cousin I did it on purpose. I know you could have; I know you probably wanted to. So, thank you.”

He just looked at me. Behind him, a pack sat on a locker at the foot of an immaculately made bed, foxes running across the headboard.

“Is that all?” he said.

“Is that all I’m sorry for, or…”

“Is that all you have to say? I’m busy.” His eyebrows were down again, the boredom back in his eyes.

“You’re going, then? To Veliko? Did Yelena Artyomovich send for you? Are you going to be gone long?”

I waited for his slow exhale through the nose, but it didn’t come. He just kept studying me, like he hadn’t even heard what I said.

“Sanya? I really am sorry. I didn’t know the gnila would spread when I absorbed it. I didn’t think it would cause so much trouble.”

Another beat, just him looking at me. Then, “Let me see your hand, Iyu Aksanevich.”

“Of course.” I held my hand out to him. “Why?”

He took my hand in his, and I felt him pulling.

I jerked, at first, instinctively, but he held my hand steady, and I relaxed into his grip. If that’s what he needed from me, he could have it. I owed him.

He pulled, but nothing came. I didn’t feel the fishhook or the tooth loosening.

He dropped my hand.

“I don’t think it works without the gnila,” I said. “It needs something to stick to.”

“I apologize,” he said, wiping his hand off on his pants. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He turned back and knelt beside the footlocker.

“What’s going on, Sanya?”

“We got a message from Veliko.” He was rummaging in the locker but hadn’t taken anything out. “My sister went there to talk to Knyaz Fadej, but while she was there, the knyaz’s brother was attacked. She joined a small group dispatched to find those responsible, but they were expecting that. She was captured.”

“What?” I felt a chill run through me. A bunch of miryanins could not capture a volshebnik—certainly not one as capable as Yelena Artyomovich.

Sanya did not bother to explain the inexplicable to me. “I’m going to Veliko with those of that land.” His hands had stopped moving in the locker.

“I’ll go with you,” I said.

“You can’t.”

I stepped up and knelt beside him. “I will.”

He turned his face away from me. “You can’t. Knyaz Artyom would never allow it, not without Knyaz Aksana’s leave.”

“I’ll send her a message; she’ll understand. I can catch up with you.”

“You have to stay with Semyon Aksanevich.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I’ll have to get Aksana to let him come, too.”

He shook his head.

He was right. Whatever I said, Aksana would never let the two of us go off fighting someone else’s battle. Not without her there. That was not permission she’d give through a message.

“When are you leaving?” I asked.

“When Vasilij Artyomovich tells me we are leaving,” he said, grimacing.

“Today?”

“Today.”

“It’ll have to be before sunset, then. Look, Sanya, you couldn’t pull zhiva out of me now, but if I went out now and found a ghost, I could get back here before sunset. If I went fast. I’ve got some myortva to burn; I could do it.”

“No.”

“But I could—”

“I won’t let you go alone.”

“I could take Semchik.”

“No,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

“But what if Vasilij Artyomovich is ready before we get back?”

He stood up. “I don’t care what he does. Come on.”

***

I didn’t have my sword with me, and we didn’t stop to get it. Someone should’ve stopped us, it seemed, but Sanya strode so purposefully, with so much authority (and with so much skill at circumnavigating the places anyone with any authority over him was likely to be found) that no one dared.

As soon as we left the gates, we started burning myortva to cover more ground. Under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed it. Under these circumstances, I barely noticed what was happening; I could only pay attention to how much myortva was left in me.

Sanya was smart enough to have brought bait talismans but he didn’t have the ink and brush we needed to finish them, so he sliced his finger open and completed the strokes with his blood. I didn’t know if that would work, but the ghosts came. Like sharks to blood in the water. Five or six at once; I didn’t stop to count before Sanya cut them down, wickedly efficient. He didn’t need my help at all. He left one, and I let its tendril wrap around my wrist before he stabbed it through its core.

Its remnants had not fully dissipated before I wrapped my fingers around my wrist and drew the gnila out and into the flesh of my palm. Wordlessly, I held my hand out to him, and wordlessly, he took it. This time, there was little jiggling to dislodge the tooth. Just the jerk and the pop and the rush of zhiva following it.

Sanya closed his fist and squeezed, his knuckles going so pale it looked as though they were glowing.

And then we headed back. I was weak, again, and Sanya had to support me. His arm quivered where it wrapped around me. We made slower progress this way, though I tried to go as fast as I could. 

Vasilij was waiting for us just beyond the gates.

When we approached, he seized Sanya by the arm and shook. Sanya’s other arm dropped from where it had been around my ribcage. I summoned all my strength to stand up straight.

Vasilij held Sanya’s gaze for a long moment, neither of them speaking. Perhaps these Okhotnikovs communicated telepathically.

Then Vasilij’s stone eyes flashed at me. “Timofej Artyomovich,” he said, his eyes never leaving me.

One of his men stepped up from behind him.

“Take this one to Mariya Artyomovich and come right back.”

Timofej Artyomovich took my arm. His hand was near big enough his fingers met around my bicep.

I looked at Sanya, and he nodded. So I let Timofej Artyomovich lead me off, trying to keep my steps sure and steady. I couldn’t stop myself from looking back at Vasilij and Sanya, but they didn’t look at me and didn’t speak, and then we rounded a corner, and they were gone.