Page 7 of The Seventh Swan
He continued the journey down a long road to a distastefully ornate house some hours from the manor.Saveli's lips curled as he took it in, and he dismissed the boy in tacky red and gold livery who came to take his horse."He is fine with the grass and wildflowers, and I will not be here long."
He did not bother to knock, simply let himself in, bypassing weak magic with word and will.Servants who saw him and started to protest immediately closed their mouths and hastened to move out of his way.
He found the man he sought at the very back, in a workshop that showed skill, but also flaunted ego.
"Who the fuck are you," the man snarled, then bellowed the names of servants he would be firing.
"You are the man who cut away the wing of Lord Oskar while he slept," Saveli said, voice level but full of sharp steel that cut off the man's tirade."Mage Alfons, I am told is your name."
"Sorcerer Alfons," he spat in reply.
Saveli laughed, cold and cruel."You are no sorcerer.Only a mage, though a skilled one, I will admit that.I cannot find flaws in your work.Metal beautifully wrought; that is living, working art.Your craft is flawless.Your methodology, however, is unforgivable.You take without asking, you force instead of giving.Tell me,mage, what is the first law of magic?"
"I give them what they need," Alfons hissed, red-faced, spittle flying."Who are you to attack me in my home and tell me how to do my job!You are mad about the swan boy?I saved him.Took away that freakish wing and gave him a good, working arm.He should be showering me with praise, but what did I get?Screamed at and called a monster.He is a petulant child unable to appreciate—"
"He was a man who was a child when magic transformed him unwillingly.He was barely a man still when you again forced a change on him unwillingly.You know better.Magic reflects, that is the first law.What you give, you get.What you take, you lose.How much do you take and take and take to fight off the debt collectors, mage?"
Alfons threw a wrench at him, but the throw was weak and poorly done, and Saveli barely had to move his head to dodge it."Get out.I don't know who you are—"
"I am Saveli the Silverspun, the Starspinner, the Soulless.I am the eldest son of an eldest son of an eldest son, a tsarevich of Koshar, and my master was Ivan the Heartless.I am the debt collector, and you will pay what you owe for so callously abusing your rare and precious magic, all the endless hurt you've caused."
Alfons collapsed to the ground, not quite passing out, but very nearly."That— that's not— why are youhere."
"Because unlike you, I listen when the magic speaks," Saveli said coldly, and dropped a crown woven from thorns and nettles and nightshade berries atop his head.There was a scream, and then smoke of a thousand colors that smelled and tasted of burned flowers.
As it cleared, all the remained of the man was a large brown toad.Saveli scooped it up and carried it outside to drop at the bank of a brook."You have seven years and seven days to learn and change and grow, to see if one might see you true and love you true.Should you learn nothing, and remain unchanged, then you will be nothing but a toad the rest of your days, and no memory of your humanity shall remain."
He left the toad there and returned to his horse, where the stableboy stood watching it from a short distance, dutifully leaving him alone but not abandoning him either.Saveli gave him a gold coin."Tell the others your master is gone, by magic and justice, and will not be returning."
Leaving the boy there gawking, he rode off to address the other healers.He was not as cruel to them as he had been to Alfons, but they would remember their duty in the hope of not ever seeing him a second time.
By the time he returned to the manor, night was just falling.He washed and dressed in fresh clothes and put his feather in his hair before taking up his midnight cloak, ignoring the exhaustion washing over him as he headed out to the pond.
Disappointment was a pit in his stomach when he saw that no one was there.Oskar had not come.Oskar did not trust him.Why should he?Most called him Silverspun for his strange beauty.Some called him Starspinner for the ancient curse he had broken.Many called him Soulless because when there was justice to be done, he seldom listened to their pleading.
A man that magic had hurt, had betrayed…of course he would not trust.Saveli had been a fool to hope otherwise.He was a sorcerer, earthbound with a heart of fire, and Oskar was meant for the wind and water.Saveli had wanted to give him that, no matter the personal cost, but he would not take what Oskar did not give.
Heavy hearted and weary, he turned to leave, focusing only on the bed waiting for him.All else could wait until tomorrow when he was rested.
"Sorcerer!"
Saveli froze just steps from the manor, shock rippling through him, and turned slowly, half expecting to have imagined that voice calling out to him, for the figure before him to turn into mist."Lord Oskar.You were not at the pond."
"I…it…" He stopped a mere few paces away, the light from the nearby house revealing more of him, achingly lovely, including eyes as dark and stormy as a spring sky.He sighed heavily before finally saying, "It was hard to leave my house.But I have been talking to my brother more, and my sisters, and my brothers further afield.I have not done that in a long time.You fixed my sisters' hands when no one else could.I've never seen them so happy, except on the day we turned back to human."
"I am happy I could help.That is all I have ever wanted to do with my magic."
Oskar held out his hand, clutching three feathers."As you requested, sorcerer.To return a hundredfold."
"Yes.It will take some time to weave and knit the magic, far more complicated than the simple spell I wove for your sisters.Three days and three nights.I will return to the pond then."
"Three days and three nights."
Saveli wanted to say something more, but the words would be foolish and greedy, all about himself in the end, and he tried hard not to be selfish.A prince,his mother had often said when he was young,was a servant too.Serve the people, serve the land, serve the magic.When you think you are better than any of those things, you are not a prince, but a poison.She was the Golden now, but in her youth, before she was turned into a mare, they had called her the Wise.
He returned to his room and went to bed, then woke a little before dawn to ready himself.Washed and dressed, fed and with plenty of proper tea to keep him company.
Preparing the wool came first, scattering it with flowers carefully collected and torn to tiny bits.The then the pieces of silver.Then the swan feathers, each delicate barb removed and added to the wool.When he was finished with the swan feathers, he turned at last to the final piece required for the magic: the phoenix feather gifted by his uncle, plucked from his own tail moments before his head had been removed and his humanity restored.
