Chapter 6
Roksana
The Brotherhood mansion was buzzing with impatient conversation as everyone waited for Boyan’s arrival. The tables were full of food, everything arranged for a festive feast. I sat next to Boyan’s place at the high table, counting the factions.
Irsha’s Blades and the Chapter of Observers were already there, while half the Mules gathered in the corner, isolated from the rest. Then there were the Poisoners, clumped together and milling around, looking like abandoned sheep, lost without their shepherd.
‘We need to arrange new Master trials soon, or they’ll kill each other fighting for the position,’ I whispered to Irsha, nodding towards my chapter.
‘Maybe you should take over?’ he said, chuckling when my brow furrowed.
‘I’m too busy. Besides, I don’t like people using me as the solution for their problems,’ I answered, eyeing my friend.
Irsha looked as lethal as ever, dressed in an all-black ensemble with a wide sash encircling his waist, holding his daggers. Blade’s dark hair was tied at the back, and he’d even taken the time to apply golden eyeliner, as he did when wearing the porcelain mask of his chapter.
‘I wish Lily could see you right now. You look positively dashing,’ I said, chuckling when he blushed.
‘Is she alright? I sent more men to keep an eye on the House of Lillies. It’s just…’
I placed my hand on his knee, smiling when he held it. ‘She has some family troubles, but she wanted to tell you herself. Talk to her, Blade. And for the gods’ sake, cuddle the woman. She needs someone big and strong to hold her, and for obvious reasons, I don’t qualify.’
His warm brown eyes lit up like embers. ‘She still wants to see me?’
‘Yes, she wants you. Men!’ I sighed. ‘Remember when I returned after poisoning Ignac Tivala? I told you I was fine, but you refused to go, and I ended up crying into your shirt.’ He nodded, his eyes widening a fraction. ‘She’s that fine.’
‘I’ll go to her after the feast,’ he whispered, and I patted his knee.
‘Good boy. Now focus, you’re about to become the centre of attention,’ I said when a servant moved to open the door.
Boyan strolled in, nodding his greetings, looking nothing like the man I’d found dying in his bed.
I cursed under my breath, spotting his dilated pupils when he came closer.
He must have taken a stimulant that, together with my aether transfer, made him able to act normally.
He sat at the table between Visla and me, gesturing for everyone to take their seats before tapping lightly on his glass.
Now, every eye in the room was looking in his direction.
‘Before we start, I have news that may surprise a few people here,’ he said. His voice carried strongly, but the skin on his hands was mottled when he tightened his grip on the table.
‘What’s the news? Jagon coming back?’ shouted a poisoner, and I couldn’t stop myself from wincing.
Boyan smiled, lowering his eyes before he reached his hand to me. I took it, standing up to join him. Then he gestured to Irsha, who also rose from his seat.
‘Death, our eternal ally, will soon come to collect my debt, but I won’t be leaving the Brotherhood unguarded.
’ He stood up and moved between Irsha and me.
‘I will leave you with the two people I trust with my vision for the future. My daughter Roksana, the Deadly Nightshade, is my shadow mage and liaison to the king.’ He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘And the Blade you all know and respect, Irsha Wilkor, my chosen disciple. He’ll train under my tutelage until he takes over as Grand Master when I’m gone. ’
‘What the fuck? Have you gone senile, or has she drugged you into believing such a blatant lie, you old fool? And to pick her lover to lead us? Tymon should be Grand Master, not some over-muscled meathead.’ The outspoken smuggler stood up, striding to confront Boyan at the high table.
‘You’ll not question the Grand Master’s will,’ Tymon bellowed, hammering his fist on the table.
It was a convincing display of his anger if I hadn’t caught the signal and the smuggler’s smirk, betraying how performative it was. His questions were meant to be heard, not answered.
Irsha’s men began standing up, and the Mules rose in answer.
If we weren’t careful, there was a good chance this would turn into a slaughter.
The tension built when, with a sudden thud, a dagger flew past me with such force it embedded itself in the floor right between the smuggler’s feet.
I glanced at Irsha, but he was staring at his dagger with a baffled expression.
Boyan smirked. ‘If you want to challenge my words or my decisions, pick it up and fight me,’ he said, deceptively calm.
The room went silent. The smuggler, now shaking, bowed, returning to his table, making sure not even a piece of his clothing touched the dagger.
‘No? Anyone else?’ Boyan smiled, staring down these trained killers who, one by one, lowered their gaze to the floor. ‘Good. Let’s eat. I’m famished.’
He returned to his seat, and the room slowly drowned in the hum of voices and the clatter of utensils.
‘Tymon will do whatever in his power to discredit you during your time as Father’s disciple,’ I whispered to Irsha.
He nodded, reaching for the rack of lamb a servant placed on the table.
‘I know, and I’m ready. Besides, I’ll always have you, my shadowy liaison to the king.
’ He produced a dagger from the gods knew where to cut me a portion, while my gaze drifted to his favourite blade, still embedded in the floor.
A silent testimony to the Grand Master’s power. As long as he could answer the challenge, Boyan’s power was absolute.
A week had passed since the Brotherhood feast, and it felt like the calm before the storm.
Between the war, Lily’s trouble and all the strife in the Brotherhood, I hadn’t stopped.
Last night, I’d spent hours practising transformation spells with Ciesko.
It worked so well that, with his usual cheerful patronising self, he kept me in his workshop until I could change every object he picked into the shape I chose.
I was on my last legs when I returned home, but at least no nightmares came to haunt me.
Early morning, the front door slammed with such force that my mirror wobbled, and I instinctively caught it before the damn thing toppled and shattered.
I’d barely awakened, spending the last minutes in a haze, staring at my reflection.
The bed was still unmade, its sheets piled up in a corner, and yesterday’s clothes lay scattered over the chair.
I shook my head to clear it, then looked down at the table, where my dagger and the vials on my alchemist’s belt reflected the light of the sharp winter sun.
I relaxed and smiled when I heard a familiar voice cursing.
Tova was finally home, and I looked forward to sharing breakfast with him.
I’d tried not to worry about Tova spending so much time on his research.
Even though I knew it was important, on the few occasions he returned, he’d looked so gaunt it hurt to hold my tongue and not say something.
I’d even considered moving to the Chapter House to shield him from my problems. Or to the palace once Reynard returns.
The thought came unexpectedly, and my comb stilled in my hair as I realised I’d even considered that a possibility.
‘Drah’sa, are you in your bedroom? We need to talk.’ The question came from downstairs, followed by heavy dwarven boots thumping on the stairs.
‘Yes, I am!’ I shouted back, my hand shaking slightly as I continued detangling my braid. I’d forgotten to do it last night, now my hair looked like a bird’s nest after a toddler finished playing with it.
The door slammed against the wall, and Tova, huffing like a draft horse, entered my bedroom.
‘Good, I’m glad you’re here. I need to get into the Brotherhood Chapter House.
Those fucking soldiers refuse to help me, and the mages?
They know what’s at stake but don’t seem to give a fuck.
You can make the Brotherhood help, though, yes?
’ He grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.
‘You’re not making any sense.’ I resisted frowning at his eyes, bloodshot and burning with fever. ‘Tova, what’s going on? What do you need help with?’
He paused, pulling his beard with such force that a few strands came away in his hand. ‘Right… you don’t know. I think I know what the schemata does.’
My agitated friend gave my hand another tug, as if this one sentence was a sufficient explanation.
‘Tova Orenson, sit the hell down and tell me properly,’ I said, pulling my hand from his grasp.
My lips twitched when Tova rolled his eyes, pose rigid with annoyance, but after a long, deep sigh, he sat down.
‘After you mentioned the Wey Gates, I’ve been studying the designs with Lily, and I have an idea what this thing does.
’ He paused, looking at me expectantly, and I gestured for him to continue.
‘The problem is that I don’t know exactly how it works.
The metal structure they describe is bizarre, like they tried making the srebrec even more volatile.
Why would anyone do that, Sana? It would release so much aether.
The Artificer Masters think it’s just a failed prototype, but I know M?ot.
It’s no failure. It has a purpose, and I need to return to Wiosna–’
This was a lot to take in, and I raised my hand, stopping him briefly. ‘You studied them with Lily… Our Lily?’ I asked, making sure I understood. ‘And now you want to return to M?ot’s fortress and get yourself killed because the metal is misbehaving?’