Page 33 of My Wild Horse King

“Is he really as bad as they say?”

I pause. When I turn, slowly, he’s still standing exactly where he was before. “You tell me about the picture.” I point. “And I’ll tell you more about Leonid.”

His jaw locks, and I realize he’s not going to talk. I’m turning to leave again when he says, “It’s my mother. She loved horses—sometimes I think she loved them even more than my father. She surely loved them more than I ever did. She loved them more than anything in her life, except maybe Kristiana. But in spite of her passion, I never wondered whether she loved me—she made that clear every day. She brightened up every room she was in, and she died because of my dad. . .and because of a horse.” The muscles in his jaw work.

I realize that’s it. That’s everything he’s willing to share. “Leonid.” I inhale and exhale slowly. “Have you ever seen a stray kitten?”

His brow furrows.

“When I met him, he was like a stray cat who had spent his entire life being kicked. He was pitiful, really. His dad was completely nuts. He had dragged Leonid from hither to yon, ranting about their great destiny and their esteemed pedigree to anyone who would listen. Leonid had been booed, mocked, and attacked by people for years. He knew his dad was insane, but he didn’t have anyone else.”

“You felt sorry for him?” Gustav says. “Is that why you’re friends?”

“Friends is not a great word for what we were.” It’s far more complicated than that. “I did feel sorry for him—anyone would have. But the thing about Leonid is that. . .instead of a kitten, I should’ve said he’s like a baby tiger. He’s beautiful in a way that almost no one is.” It almost hurts saying that. It feels like I’m being disloyal to Alexei.

And for some reason, Gustav also looks angry.

“Pull up his photo. You’ll see what I mean. I thought he was like a kitten, but by the time I realized I’d caught a wounded tiger by the tail, it was too late.”

“What did you do for him?” Gustav looks well and truly curious now. “How did you catch his tail?”

“Leonid had never really spent more than a night or two in the same place. I think his father was terribly ill, but not in his body. He was sick in his mind.”

Gustav’s frown returns.

“I was the one who met them when they came through our town. I had just gotten a new hat and was walking through the main street of town when I saw Leonid, defending his father near the square. I begged Father to let them stay with us. I asked him to ignore the man’s ranting and take pity—find him some kind of job.”

“And your father did it?”

“Father was pleased with me at the time. He thought I was going to marry the czar’s son.” I sigh. I’m not sure exactly what he knows about how things went down a hundred years ago. “At first, I pitied him. But later, because of his extraordinary looks, I used him to try and make another man jealous.”

“Alexei.”

I hate that he can see through me after knowing me all of two minutes. “It didn’t work.”

Gustav’s expression is absurdly disapproving. “So far, Leonid doesn’t seem like the villain.”

“I thought I was honestly doing Leonid a favor.” I do feel pretty bad when I think about it in retrospect.

“So, that’s it? You used him, and now he’s mad?”

“You have about two and a half hours of sleep now, if you want to go to your precious meetings,” I say. “There’s not even half as much time as you’d need for me to share this entire story.”

Gustav nods slowly. “You’re right. I need to worry about things that matter. Things in the here and now.”

“But you should know that he’s very dangerous, and he’s very powerful, and they haven’t exaggerated a single thing. He told me himself that he’s coming after you, and he’ll kill you. If. . .” I’m not sure how to warn him away from using his powers. It’s a complicated thing, being able to use them.

“If what?” Gustav’s eyes are so light in this moment that they look nearly champagne.

“If you do any of the things they want you to do.”

“The things? No one has asked me to do anything.”

“Kristiana’s a null,” I say. “The magical powers Baba Yaga gave our families don’t work on her, and we think the reason why is that her older brother’s the heir of the family power—that only happens when the powers aren’t split.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Gustav says. “You’re making no sense.”

“Let me put it this way. Baba Yaga gave the founder of Russia, Rurik, powers over a thousand years ago. When she thought the line died out, she granted similar powers again, but this time to a group of people instead of only to one. She spread the powers out to try and help balance things out a little better. But when Leonid showed up, she told him he could only regain his powers by retaking them from those people.”

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