“Perhaps, but I enjoy him.”
The sorcerer took a step closer to Fydor, who flinched visibly. “Enjoy someone less dangerous. Enjoy someone who does not have a legitimate claim to the throne you like so much, King Fydor. Someone who is not tied to the Uniter, who I understand is in this building.”
“It’s rumor only,” Fydor sputtered.
Borya held his staff in front of him, and what looked like a lightning bolt shot from the knob on the handle, straight into Fydor’s chest. His face froze in a mask of pain and terror. Borya’s voice was barely intelligible over the crackle of the bolt. “Do not ever lie to me again, Slayer, or you will feel pain like this for the rest of your immortal tenure.”
Fydor gasped and slumped to the floor in a heap after the bolt sucked back into the staff.
“Are we clear?” Borya asked.
Unable to speak, Fydor nodded.
The sorcerer gave Nikolai another glare before returning his attention to Fydor. “I want you to find the escaped prisoners, and I want them, along with this one, executed for treason tomorrow night. The Uniter will burn on a stake next to him for all to see. Do you understand, King Fydor?”
Still racked with pain on the floor, he nodded. “Yes, yes. I understand. It will be done.”
“When I return next,” Borya continued, “I want to see nothing but ash smoldering around burning posts and all the factions bowing down to your terrible power.”
It was a long time after the sorcerer left before Fydor finally rose to his feet.
“He’s playing you, Uncle,” Nikolai said. “Murdering a member of each faction will not make them fear you. It will make them hate you.”
Obviously still in pain from the bolt that knocked him down, he picked up the club from the ground. “Hate and fear are intertwined and powerful.”
“No. Fear and respect are the most powerful combination.”
“Ha! Respect. You sound like your father.” Fydor’s hold on the club tightened.
“Borya wants chaos. He has no intention of letting you rule. You are no more than a puppet. A pawn in his game.”
Nik braced himself for a blow, but instead, Fydor threw the club at his feet like a child who’d just lost a game of jacks before storming from the cell.
Thank goodness Claude knew where the stable was because Elena was certain she’d have never found it. The thick, predawn fog made the air seem liquid and the grounds surreal, which reflected her whole situation. It felt like any moment, she’d shake off sleep and wake up from this nightmare.
An animal shrieked from somewhere in front of them, and they both stopped short from their full-out sprint.
“The barn’s right ahead. The sound came from there,” Claude whispered between gasps for breath.
“Owwww!” It sounded more human than animal this time.
Elena recognized Aleksi’s voice immediately. “Shut up, or I’ll give you something to really scream about.”
She nodded to Claude, and they crept forward, and then she gently pushed the barn door open enough to peek in.
Aleksi was kneeling in the hay next to a bony woman whose head twitched side-to-side in swift, jerky movements. The only other creatures in the barn were two boys who looked no older than thirteen or fourteen, sitting on a bench in the corner. Well, sitting wasn’t really the right word. They were both balanced barely on the edge of the seat as if they would leap to their feet at any moment. Both appeared too well-fed and healthy to have been prisoners in the dungeon.
“This is a terrible idea,” the woman said in a shrill, nasal tone, rising to her feet. “Fydor will surely look in here.”
“Then shut the fuck up so we can find the plug and get out of here.” Aleksi yanked her back down by the shirt, which tore with a loud ripping sound. The woman hit the ground with a thud.
Both boys jumped to their feet at the same time. “Someone’s here, Lady Aleksandra!” one said in a breathy tone, pointing at Claude and Elena lurking just outside the door.
“Yeah. You told us to warn you if we saw or smelled somethin’,” the other added.
She met Elena’s eyes, nodded, then turned her attention back to the whiny lady next to her. “Lie on your stomach. Based on your racket, it’s in the back of your right thigh.”
“We did good, huh? Me and Iosif did right, didn’t we, huh?” one boy said while the other ran in a circle. “We told ya like you asked.” Their goofy grins were contagious, and Elena almost found herself smiling at their exuberance.
“Iosif and Simion. Sit!” Aleksi commanded.
Both boys dropped to their butts on the floor instantly, still grinning.
“Dog shifters,” Claude said, opening the door wide enough for her to pass through. “Still pups, but they make good stable boys.”
“You don’t have X-ray vision or any such cool superpower, do you, E?”