—Vasiliev’s Book of Saints
Kacper let the door slam behind them. “That was one of your worst ideas, Serefin. Ever.”
Serefin couldn’t stop laughing. Kacper was looking at him in shock, unable to see the humor in earning a prophecy from a mad Kalyazi witch. Serefin wheezed, leaning back against the wall and sliding to the floor. A servant passed in front of them, pointedly not looking at the High Prince having a fit of hysterics on the ground.
“What did it mean?” Kacper continued.
“Did it have to mean anything?” Serefin asked after catching his breath. He wiped tears from his eyes.
Kacper shuddered.
Serefin brushed a moth off his knee, frowning. Where were they coming from? The insect left the barest sprinkling of dust on Serefin’s black trousers as it flew away.
After heaving an exasperated sigh, Kacper slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor next to Serefin.
“Now what?” he asked.
Serefin leaned his head back. He needed a way to dig deeper into the underbelly of the court without anyone suspecting him of stirring up trouble. He had a reputation for getting underfoot and antagonizing slavhki, most of whom weren’t fond of him. While Pelageya was an oddity, it was comforting to know not everyone in the castle was under his father’s spell.
“How quickly can a person travel to Kyętri and back?” he mused.
Kacper glanced sidelong at him. “You’re leaving Grazyk?”
“I can’t. But I need someone to go to the Salt Mines.”
“Who would that be?”
“Well…”
“Definitely not.”
“I trust you and Ostyia and no one else,” Serefin said.
“That’s touching, Serefin.”
“Are you defying a direct order from your prince?” Serefin asked, pressing a hand over his heart.
“It wasn’t a direct order, and I won’t leave you with only Ostyia for protection while you’re convincing yourself there are going to be assassins waiting for you around every corner. I’ll find someone trustworthy to send to Kyętri.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Drink a lot of wine and prepare for your inevitable fate?” Kacper suggested.
Serefin considered that with a thoughtful nod.
“Maybe get a new spell book?”
That got Serefin to his feet. “There’s an idea. With every piece I’m given about this business with the Vultures I grow more concerned, so first, let’s go to the source.”
“You’re going to try to pull the Vultures away from your father?” Kacper asked.
“He shouldn’t have them to begin with, so I’m certainly going to try.”
* * *
Serefin’s status earned him an interview with the Crimson Vulture, the second in command. Unexpectedly, she came to his rooms instead of requiring he go to the cathedral on the palace grounds to meet her.
The Vulture was a tall woman who wore an iron mask that covered all but her stormy blue eyes. Piles of black hair fell down her back in waves. Her head shifted to one side in an oddly avian way when she was brought before Serefin.
“Your Highness,” she said, her voice graveled, “welcome back to Grazyk.”
He motioned for her to sit and was grateful when she did; her height was intimidating.
“I hope His Excellency is well,” Serefin said. He wasn’t surprised that he had been denied an audience with the Black Vulture. The leader of the Vultures was notoriously elusive.
“I’ll be sure to pass on your felicitations,” she replied.
“Strange that he’s not in Grazyk with the Rawalyk so near.”
“Matters of state hold little interest to him. As it is now there will always be a war and there will always be state kings to fuel it, so he must see to the things of magic your king forgets or simply has no time for.”
Or simply isn’t powerful enough to comprehend. What must it be like, to be the king of a land that lauds its blood mages, surrounded by mages all more powerful than you? Serefin supposed he could sympathize with his father’s position, if not exactly empathize.
“What kind of matters would those be?” Serefin asked.
“Curious about our ways, Your Highness? I would’ve thought they were too occult for someone with your sensibilities.”
“I’ve just been given a lot of free time. It’s not something one has a great deal of when they’re continually at war. I may as well spend it putting together the pieces of just what has happened while I’ve been away.”
She tensed. It was subtle, but Serefin caught it.
“Tell me, my lady, about the Vulture that was found in Kalyazin.”
Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “I suppose we cannot keep every secret close.”
“Did that sound like blackmail?” Serefin asked innocently. It would be a scandal if the common folk learned of someone defecting from the Vultures. They were the elite, a higher authority, the chosen blessed.
Her head tilt dropped a raven lock over the forehead of her silver mask. “Tell me, Your Highness, what do you want?”
“I was called from the front rather suddenly. The necessity for a consort seems like thin reasoning. I have no true proof of any dealings that should not be happening taking place, yet…”
“Yet you have suspicions.”
He shrugged. “As I said, nothing founded.”
“What makes you think my order would know the machinations of your political games?”
“There was a Vulture in my father’s throne room,” Serefin said idly. “The Vultures were also very eager to go after the cleric I found, only to fail … The latter is an unfortunate oversight on your order’s part; the former, well, that looks like mixing magic and politics where they should not meet. I have no intention of blackmailing you, my lady—not yet, at least. Your order has traditionally played the role of advisor and nothing more, is that still the case?”
She swallowed. “Not quite.”
He hummed an acknowledgment and waited for her to continue.
“Some amount of paranoia on your part may be well founded.”
“What kind of paranoia?” he asked, letting his eyes close. He angled his head back. He would have expected more fear, more panic, anxiety that clutched at him and refused to let him think; instead he just felt calm. Here was a problem for him to decipher. Here was something to do, even if that something was surviving.
“It is rumored that your standing at court is tenuous, but they’re whispers, nothing more.”
Serefin couldn’t help but smile. So his father had become so anxious about Serefin’s power that he thought it best he was out of the picture entirely? How utterly Tranavian.
“And telling me this isn’t betraying Tranavia?”
A flicker of amusement sparked in the Vulture’s eyes. “It would hardly be the first time Tranavian politics were upheaved while the Vultures remained untouched. It’s not like I told you anything you did not already know.”
Regardless, it was confirmation he wasn’t going mad, that he wasn’t seeing knives where they were not, shadows where none stood. It was something, and it would have to be enough.