He smiled slightly. “That’s not the right word for that context, but you’re close.”
Nadya winced. This was never going to work.
“We can get into the palace by forging paperwork.”
Before Nadya had a chance to ask how they were possibly going to accomplish that, Rashid perked up.
“Leave that to me. I worked as the Travasha’s scribe in my youth. There is very little I cannot forge.”
Nadya glanced at Parijahan for confirmation. She just grinned.
“If she says she’s from a border town her accent will be less noticeable. Reasonable explanation will hide just about anything from unsuspecting eyes,” Malachiasz said.
“But that will put her close enough to Kalyazin to instantly be suspicious,” Rashid argued.
“If I’m traveling with two Akolans anyway, would it not stand to reason that I be from somewhere close to both borders?” Nadya interjected.
Malachiasz nodded thoughtfully then abruptly stood and left the room.
“Where’s he going?” Nadya asked, forgetting she was supposed to be speaking in Tranavian.
“Tekyalzaw jelesznak!” She heard Malachiasz call from the other room. Wrong language.
She rolled her eyes.
He came back and unrolled a map on the table, using his spell book to hold it down on one end and Rashid’s elbow on the other. After frowning at the Tranavian side, he tapped at a point near where the Tranavian border met Akola.
“Łaszczów,” he said. “It’s just far enough from Kalyazin that you won’t be instantly suspect, but near enough that a holdover of a Kalyazi accent might be possible.”
“Are there any low royalty in the area?” Parijahan asked.
Malachiasz shook his head. “Low nobility only. Inconsequential. The nearest low prince is in Tanów, which is farther north.”
“So, it would be easily explained if Nadya didn’t know all the finer points of court life,” Rashid said.
“If Józefina didn’t know, exactly,” Malachiasz confirmed.
“Is that my name?” Nadya asked. “Did you come up with it yourself?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Józefina Zelenska. Your father, Luçjan, has tragically departed this world, but he died fighting for his country. Your mother, Estera, is an invalid, and,” he paused, thinking, “you have a younger sister named Anka.”
Nadya blinked. “Did you just come up with all of that?”
Malachiasz raised his eyebrows. “Yes, why?”
How many false realities has he constructed for himself? she wondered. If all he had was his name and his magic, how many nights had he lain awake and wondered where the people he might have called family were? Who they were? This was easy for him. Just another false family that would never be real. She had to stop herself from crossing the suddenly paltry distance to where his hand rested on the table, black lines of ink tattooed on his pale fingers. The urge to give some small scrap of comfort to her enemy startled her enough that she dropped her hand down to her lap to better pretend like it never happened. His quick glance at the spot where her hand had once been only made her feel more like she was doing something she shouldn’t.
Rashid shifted away from the map and Malachiasz gently shoved him back down so it wouldn’t roll up.
“Can you cast magic without using those beads?” Malachiasz asked.
She fingered her necklace. “Not really.”
“We’ll have to figure out how to work around that. What about,” he waved a hand over his mouth, “the symbols? Those make it too obvious you’re using magic.”
“Oh, like how you cut your arm open and bleed over everything? Very subtle.”
Parijahan snorted. Malachiasz’s expression wearied.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ll speak to Marzenya. Perhaps she and I can come to an agreement,” Nadya said.
“Also, if Rashid and Parijahan are posing as part of my entourage—”
“I’m much too pretty to be a servant,” Rashid said with a sigh.
Malachiasz shot him an amused look. “You could pose as nobility—”
“No, Malachiasz,” Parijahan said quickly. “Too much paperwork. We’re already risking it with Nadya. I don’t want a keen slavhka who visited Akola’s courts recognizing me, and I definitely don’t want my Travasha hearing word that I’ve reappeared, so let’s change the context. I pose as Nadya’s maidservant, I hide in plain sight. I can swallow my pride for a short time.” She smiled wryly. “And so can Rashid.”
“What about Anna?” Nadya asked.
“I’m not coming with you,” Anna said softly.
Nadya turned to her, speechless. Anna had to come with her. She couldn’t do this without her.
Anna’s smile was tinged with acute melancholy. She had clearly been thinking about this for some time. She looked at Malachiasz. “Tranavia will be focused on the Rawalyk, won’t it?”
“They’ve just pulled their prodigy tactician out of the war,” he said. “All of the country will have its eyes on Grazyk. There’s a good chance Tranavia is so confident victory is in sight that they will loosen their hold for the time it takes to see this ceremony through.”
“I’m going to Komyazalov,” she said. “Or, at the very least, the biggest military base I can reach on the way while you all deal with this.” She pressed her index finger down on the map over Tranavia. “I’ll make sure Kalyazin is ready for what happens next. Besides, the prince knew we fled the monastery together. It’s better for me not to even be present to arouse any kind of suspicion.”
Nadya leaned her head on Anna’s shoulder and willed herself to keep her tears at bay. She had thought at the very least she would have Anna beside her, but what Anna wanted to do was important—vital, even—so she wouldn’t argue against it.
“Don’t go alone,” Nadya said in Kalyazi. Malachiasz didn’t chastise her for switching languages. “Come with us for at least a little while. There’s still a military presence to the east, right?”
Rashid nodded.
“Don’t travel through the mountains alone.”
Anna cast her a long look. She didn’t want to make this harder, and it was already going to tear at them both to part. Anna was all Nadya had left of home, and now she was losing her, too. Finally, Anna nodded. Nadya relaxed, hooking her arm through the other girl’s.
“What are you planning to do?” Nadya asked Malachiasz.
He chewed on his thumbnail. It looked raw, the edges jagged and red. “I’ll get you into Grazyk, into the palace, whatever. We’ll figure it out from there.”
That wouldn’t work. Every part of this needed to be spotless or they would be caught. She stared at him. Nadya knew she shouldn’t care about this Tranavian abomination sitting across from her. He was doomed in his fate just like the rest of the Tranavians—even more so, as he was a Vulture, one of the worst. But she stared anyway, at this boy—this strange boy with his tangled black hair and tattooed forehead—and half of her wanted to help him.
The other half wanted to destroy him, but that half was strangely quiet.