Chapter 18
Present Day.
“I forgot to mention at the beginning of the competition: The winner of each trial receives a clue for the next.” Bohdan produced three small packages, depositing one in each of their open hands.
Ksenia avoided his touch as the packages exchanged owners.
As she tucked her winnings into the rucksack, she felt the glowering stares of all others in the room.
As if she weren’t already public enemy number one.
“With that, you’re dismissed. Return here in one week for the second trial.” Bohdan straightened a bit of parchment at the desk.
Pavel and Vuk left immediately, the camaraderie they’d all shared short-lived.
She had planned to sneak through the dungeons after this; the knowledge that Danika might be in Hearth’s vicinity had been all she could think about aside from the competition.
But her mouth went dry when the eyes of the remaining competitors in the room settled on her.
Tivan’s gaze in particular was boring through her skull.
“Senka.”
Tension snapped through her spine, and she cursed herself for showing weakness as she turned to face the captain.
His scent was cool and crisp, much like his voice. “Congratulations. You’ve survived another round.”
The remaining competitors looked disdainfully at the pair and wisely chose to excuse themselves rather than draw suspicion by waiting.
She would have an unwelcome entourage wherever she went next, and she wondered whether she would even make it back to the manor in one piece. Her immediate options for safety narrowed, and she glared at the man who now held her captive.
Curls fell forward against his forehead as he looked down on her, his gaze dropping a scintilla lower than usual.
“Is there something you need, Bohdan?” Ksenia’s foot tapped against the flagstone.
“It was an interesting counterfeit you made. However, I would’ve expected a closer match in the gold beveling around the gem. And you ended up choosing a rose-cut ruby for the stud. Why is that?”
Ksenia narrowed her eyes. What did he care about the earring now that the challenge was over?
“It was about being resourceful, not perfect. I can’t waste my energy on the minutiae,” she said in a dismissive tone.
“Can jewelry be bonded?” This question again. Ksenia opened her mouth in retort and stopped.
Ensnared between his fingers was the counterfeit earring.
Shit.
A low but telltale resonant chime filled her mind. Unlike weapons, this one was muted.
“Is the trialmaster supposed to extend this much undivided attention to select participants?” She tilted her head. “As I said at dinner last week: I wouldn’t know. Because I’m not a bondsmith.”
His brow furrowed thoughtfully, and he canted his head. “Right. You’re not a bondsmith. But I know one who could use their senses to find out.”
“You don’t believe me.” Her words hung resolutely between them.
A vein in his neck flexed subtly as he rolled his shoulders, and Ksenia fought back the visions of his bare skin once more.
“You’re right, I don’t.” His eyes took on a deadly sheen.
Her mind pieced together a reckless plan.
“Take me to your bondsmith; they’ll reassure you of my innocence.” Her heart thundered in her ears. Perhaps she could find out where they kept Danika within Hearth. This would all be worth it. She had escaped Bohdan more than once now, and she was confident she could do it again.
He turned on his heel and ascended to the landing of the stairs, then advanced down a different corridor.
Ksenia kept track of which doors, which staircases, and the countless turns they took, farther down into the depths of Hearth. Each was well-guarded by Envorsen, who saluted and opened the doors as Bohdan passed.
“By my oath, Captain.” The last pair stood outside a stone-hewn door. It ground open with the help of two Envorsen on the interior, who tracked Ksenia steadily but let her through as Bohdan waved them off.
She was met with a blistering and familiar heat.
The forge was large, with three enormous hearths arranged in a horseshoe, each big enough to heat a sword or piece of armor.
They spiraled into the same chimney, the brick flues converging before meeting the tall ceiling.
Leather bellows with a series of foot pedals sat to the side, and a collection of anvils was positioned around the space.
Tools were fastened to each wall—hammers neatly arranged by weight, tongs organized by jaw shape, files and rasps, chisels and punches…
Ksenia could spot Danika’s presence in the way the forge had been sorted.
Her heart skipped several beats when she finally located her sister.
The same pale blue color stood out—this time in the form of Danika’s well-loved handkerchief. It was fashioned into a triangle bandana to mop up the sweat from her brow and keep it from obstructing her vision. Danika pounded a piece of metal against the anvil, her hammer strikes precise.
Several children, about seven years old, gathered around her out of curiosity as she worked.
She looked up, searching for a tool on the walls. One of the children stepped from her side, as if sensing what she needed, and brought her a pair of needle-nosed tongs.
Ksenia suppressed her smile. Danika always worked well with children, making them feel important and capable.
A few others were busy heating the forge, with two at a time pressing the bellows with their small feet.
Bohdan was unruffled by the heat, not a single bead of sweat nor hair out of place. He strode up to Danika, Ksenia trailing behind.
She flitted between two powerful urges: to embrace Danika and to drive Caromir into Bohdan’s neck.
Now that she had found her, escape felt tantalizingly close and yet impossibly distant. Even if she finished off Bohdan, she would have to fend off the guards outside, and despite wandering Hearth for several days, she had yet to uncover all of its passageways and exits, let alone deal with Karsan…
Trapped, she stood decoratively beside Bohdan, wilting in her brocade dress.
Danika wiped the back of her glove against her brow, leaving a streak of soot in its wake.
“Captain.” Her voice was curt but not rude as Bohdan approached.
“Weaponmaster. I have a question for you: is this earring bonded?” He produced the ruby earring on his palm once more, his eyes assessing her expression.
Danika peered into his hand, her eyes flicking to Ksenia.
Sweat was pooling in the hollows of her collarbone now, and Ksenia crossed her arms protectively, forming her right hand into a fist against her chest, praying Danika recognized her signal.
Typical of many siblings, they had developed a little code to avoid trouble with their parents when they were young.
She was adopting a stance that asked Danika to lie and deny.
Sweat dripped into Ksenia’s eye as she spotted a young girl at her sister’s hip who peered more closely at the earring, as if sensing something.
Danika’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly before meeting Bohdan’s. Her throat bobbed slightly.
“This earring is ordinary, Captain.”
Relief washed over Ksenia as her contracted muscles relaxed. Danika had taken a dangerous chance on Ksenia without knowing her true identity. Perhaps she hadn’t changed too much.
“Thank you, weaponmaster. Apologies for the intrusion.” Bohdan gestured for Ksenia to follow, turning briskly on his heel.
Ksenia complied without question, but she lingered on Danika’s tight gaze a beat longer. She wasn’t sure what other hellish challenges were in store for her, but knowing that Danika was alive and well made it worth it.
Outside Hearth, the market was bustling.
Ksenia could smell fresh-baked loaves of bread and sharp spices, the tang drifting on dewy air.
Carts rattled by, bumping over the cobbles.
She could feel several pairs of eyes on her, tucked between stalls, trained on her rucksack.
Ksenia moved quickly, toward the main road, praying that Varka had sent a carriage.
She spotted the lacquered vehicle on the edge of the trade roads, the black stallions stamping their hooves idly.
She waved down the driver and told him to make haste back to the manor.
The road was bumpy, but she’d rather have a sore backside than actual knives buried in it.
Clouds had set in by the time the carriage halted its neck-breaking pace at the manor.
Without any more wasted time, she sequestered herself within her quarters and retrieved the package.
Turning it over in her hands, it appeared nothing special.
But once she unwrapped the crude linen and twine, it revealed a small book on anti-venoms.
Ksenia frowned, thumbing through the pages quickly, looking for anything unusual—a dog-eared page, a highlighted word, a tear—but she was disappointed to find nothing. She tossed the book against the headboard and released a beleaguered sigh.
The hallucinations had become increasingly worse as her week was almost at an end.
When she stared at the wallpaper for too long, the edges curled and peeled away, revealing rotted wood and moldy stone beneath.
They returned to normal when she looked back, but the stench of it remained, putrid and damp.
And she could still hear the insects crawling in the rotted beams, their little legs tapping on the crumbling wood.
She’d stopped trusting her eyes.
She retreated to the bathroom and drew a bath, intent on dunking her head beneath the bathwater and locating that sacred, clear space once more.
She sank deep into the bottom and watched as the clear waters turned blush, rosy, sanguine red, until she couldn’t take it anymore.
She broke the surface as the water turned blood-red, swirling thick and viscous.
The steam rising from it smelled coppery like an open vein, coating her tongue as she gasped for air.
Every one of her senses was betraying her now.
She heaved herself from the tub and rolled onto her back, waterlogged on the cold bathroom floor. Above her, the domed skylight had darkened with evening, rain pattering against it with fat, heavy drops.
Keeping her eyes closed, she counted her breaths and tried to find a moment of peace within the chaos.
She didn’t last long in the silence before cracking one eye open.
Ravenka’s bleached white skull smiled down upon her within the oculus. Ksenia’s mouth fell open, but she emitted no sound.
The skull was pressed against the glass from within, close enough that Ksenia could see every fissure, the empty sockets, the gaping jaw.
The skull moved then, rivulets of rain streaming down the bleached white bone. Then its teeth clicked shut with an audible snap that echoed throughout the bathroom before bone-on-bone ground out soundless words.
By Blood and Bone, We are Bound. Vornaya’s voice cackled in her ear, close as a lover’s whisper.
Ksenia’s scream clawed itself out of her throat.
Her mind was unraveling, one thread at a time. She had delayed this long enough—she had to resolve this tonight before she became a dysfunctional mess.