Page 69 of The Crown's Fate
Vika’s eyes flew open. “What? No! Why?”
Yuliana smirked.
But it was Pasha who answered. “I’m sorry, Vika. It’s for the empire, though.”
“Do you know what reports came into the Imperial Council this morning?” Yuliana asked, or, more accurately, accused.
But of course Vika didn’t know. She’d been a touch busy here at the fortress.
Yuliana didn’t wait for a response. “Farther south, peasants are beginning to refuse to go near the Volga River. There are tales of a monster—half catfish, half man—who will snatch and drown anyone who dares draw water after dark. The peasants are mad with fear, and the region grows more unstable by the day.”
Vika gasped. It couldn’t be ... but it sounded exactly like Vodyanoy, the fish king from the old Russian fables Ludmila used to tell when Vika was little. Vika wondered what other wild magic was waking up in Russia that they didn’t yet know about. Her stomach turned.
Pasha tried to put his hand on her arm, but she pulled away. He looked at the floor as he spoke. “The more magic the people see, the more they believe, and the greater the power that flows from Bolshebnoie Duplo. That’s good whenyou’rethe one using magic for Russia. But it’s beginning tomanifest itself in ways we can’t anticipate—whether that fish monster is real or not, the people believe it, and that’s what matters, at least for now.
“And then there’s Nikolai. The magic is terrifying when Nikolai is the one wielding its growing power. After the harm he’s caused our people and the attempts on my and Yuliana’s lives, it’s clear we need to stop him. If we can tell the people that magic is no more, Bolshebnoie Duplo’s power will decrease, and Nikolai will become more limited. And perhaps we can quell the irrational fear in the countryside.”
Vika shook her head. Her mouth curled into something that looked like a deranged smile, but it was panic, not happiness, that gave her the expression. It was as if her mouth didn’t quite know what to do. “You need me and my magic. You needmeto be able to trap and stop Nikolai.”
“Yet it appears you cannot actually manage that,” Yuliana said. “This morning is further evidence that we need a different tactic. All this magic is causing more trouble than it solves.”
“And I’ll be safe,” Pasha said. “Your shield protects me.”
“Yes, but ... but you told the people magic was good,” Vika said, grasping for arguments. “If you change your mind now, it will undermine you—”
“Vika.” Pasha planted his hands in his hair and pulled at the locks. “I truly am sorry. Yuliana and I have enough to deal with, though, with the food poisoning from Nikolai’s fete and the people’s now-hysterical distrust of magic. Besides the rumors of the fish monster, witch burnings are cropping up all over the countryside, and here in Saint Petersburg, there are rumors of revolt underfoot.
“The tsardom can’t be seen siding with your power except as a last resort. We’ll say we made a mistake. I’m young; the people will forgive me a misstep. But I have to do this, because I need to reestablish stability. You know I wouldn’t do this to you if I had a choice, right? It’s for the empire.”
Vika could only look from the double-eagled cuff to Pasha again.
“It’s not forever,” he said gently. “Just until we regain a semblance of calm and control. What we’ve been doing—allowing the existence of magic to be public knowledge—isn’t working, so I have to try something else. But if we really need your magic, if this strategy proves wrong, we’ll reinstate you right away.” He relinquished the tugging of his hair and reached a hand toward her.
But unlike earlier, when she’d allowed Pasha’s fingertips to nearly graze hers, this time Vika pulled away.
He couldn’t take away her magic, only enforce the prohibition; the bracelet would scorch her if she tried to disobey. But even though Pasha hadn’t taken her actual power away, Vika felt as if the constant sparks that had danced through her body ever since she was born had faded to the faint glow of dying embers. Her blood, which had always run hot, seemed to shift several degrees cooler. And the brash energy that ordinarily allowed Vika to command a room now dwindled, leaving her just another girl.
If she was a jinni, Pasha and Yuliana were her masters. And they had just stuffed her back inside a bottle that was markedly too small.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Back in the Winter Palace later that afternoon, Pasha handed the signed edict to Gavriil. “Here it is. Make sure it’s announced and heard throughout the city.”
“Right away, Your Imperial Highness.” Gavriil saluted.
“And you’ll oversee the safe evacuation of any citizen with red hair, correct?”
“My men have made all the preparations you requested. We will offer to help anyone who wants your protection.”
“Be careful, Gavriil. Evacuate them under cover of night, and remember, head east. A number of witch burnings have already been reported in the south, and the traders coming through the outposts there are not helping. They’re passing off their ordinary trinkets now as wards against demons and black magic.”
“East, then, Your Imperial Highness.”
Pasha nodded wearily. “Thank you. Shut the door on your way out, please.”
Gavriil saluted again and left to carry out his orders,closing the door to the tsar’s study behind him.
Pasha sank back into the chair. His own brother had tried to kill him again, while he was still trying to recover from the first attempt. And having to take magic away from Vika had only compounded what was already an unimaginably horrifying day. He wanted to lie on the floor and throw up, like he’d done at the end of the Game when he’d been filled with a similar whirlpool of conflicting emotions—anger at the betrayal by Nikolai and sadness that it all had to end, that someone would have to die. But this time, there was also anger at himself, along with remorse, for Pasha knew that none of this would have started but for his decisions.
