“And throws fire at Nikolai should he come near,” Yuliana said casually.
The color drained from Pasha’s face.
Vika clenched her fists, digging her fingernails into her palms. “I’ll do this on my own terms.”
“No, we’ve just been through this. You use magic on our terms,” Yuliana said.
Vika dug her fingernails deeper into her skin. Only a few moments ago, she’d been glad to be Imperial Enchanter. But now, even if she hadn’t had the cuff around her wrist, she would have been able to feel the shackles tighten and the chain pull taut.
The thing was, she was no longer helping Pasha solely because her vow compelled her to, but that didn’t mean she was choosing him over Nikolai. Nikolai clearly needed help, too. He wasn’t himself, and locked heart or not, Vika did not intend to allow his new ambition to swallow him, not without Vika putting up a fight to find the old Nikolai, her Nikolai, beneath the shadow.
Also, she did not like being told precisely what to do. I am not a mere foot soldier, she thought. I’m a general.
And yet, the bracelet. Her wrist weighed heavily against the chair.
Yuliana continued talking, as if she hadn’t just insulted Vika. Then again, Yuliana probably hadn’t noticed. She was the grand princess after all, accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question. “How do we protect my brother if Nikolai appears during your tour of the city?”
Pasha remained pale and silent in his chair.
“I’ll . . . cast a shield around him while we’re together,” Vika said, forcing herself to ignore Yuliana’s slight. If Vika was going to be Imperial Enchanter, she’d have to learn to let insults from the grand princess go, for there would surely be a multitude of them.
“And what about when you’re not with him?”
Vika shook her head. “I can’t maintain a shield when I’m not near. The magic required for an enchantment like that would be immense, because the shield would need to be able to respond to whatever harm threatened His Imperial Highness. If I knew that it was going to be something specific, like swords or bullets, I could cast a shield. But I have no clue what . . .”
Her mouth dried up. She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“What Nikolai has planned,” Pasha said quietly, finishing the thought for her.
Vika bit her lip and nodded.
“Well, we cannot leave Pasha completely exposed,” Yuliana said, her tone surprisingly soft. She’d stopped toying with the map weight and now looked at her brother, as if memorizing him just in case his chair was empty the next time.
Vika might not have liked the grand princess, but she understood that look. Yuliana’s love for her family and her country was both her strength and her weakness. It had propelled her to suggest the quick ending to the Game. And it would drive her decisions about stopping Nikolai.
“I have an idea.” Vika touched the basalt pendant she wore around her neck. It glowed for a second as she infused it with an enchantment. Then she unfastened it.
“Here,” she said to Pasha.
“What is it?” He reached across the space between the chairs to take the necklace.
But Vika remained where she was and, instead, floated it to him.
Pasha’s face fell.
Touching him seemed too much like taking sides, and although she was beginning to see signs of the old Pasha again, she had made it clear that she also wanted to save Nikolai. Not wanting to choose sides was also why she still called Pasha by his title, at least to his face.
“I’ve charmed it, Your Imperial Highness,” Vika said. “As long as you’re wearing the necklace, the enchantment allows you to communicate with me even when I’m elsewhere, in case you need me. All you need to do is wrap your hand around the pendant as you’re doing now, and I’ll be able to hear you.”
Pasha looked at the stone in his hand. Then he fastened it around his own neck. “Thank you.” He smiled at her, no trace of his disappointment remaining. His years of growing up in the imperial family and practice with putting on facades was evident. Or perhaps knowing that Vika would be there for him offered him some comfort?
In any case, he scooted to the edge of his chair and sat a bit taller. “Our plan, then, is twofold. We attempt to locate Nikolai, make amends, and stop this madness before any more damage is done. And in the meantime, we work on calming the people and convincing them that magic will be used for good.”
“So you want me to enchant a Christmas tree on the city tour?” Vika asked.
“Yes,” Pasha said. “Please.”
“I still think you should include fire,” Yuliana said. “If an enchanter is going to burn at the stake, it might as well be Nikolai.”
“Yuliana, no,” Pasha said, his hand tugging on a lock of hair. “I’ve made my decision. This is our plan. Now, I need to change clothes. Or, um, write down what I’m going to say. Or tell the Guard to ready a carriage.” He practically vaulted out of his chair and hurried from the study.
When he was well down the hall and out of earshot, Yuliana rose from behind the desk, as if none of what had transpired bothered her. It probably hadn’t.
She looked down her nose at Vika. “My brother’s life is in your hands,” she said. “As is the future of all Russia. Think carefully as you choose your loyalties and make your decisions.” She held Vika’s gaze for a long moment before she turned on her heel and whisked out of the room.
Vika stared at the door after them, sinking deeper into her chair. The weight of life and death and an entire empire was no small thing to bear.
CHAPTER TWENTY
One of Nikolai’s stone sparrows had seen Vika through the windows of the Winter Palace, and Nikolai’s curiosity had sabotaged him, tempting him here. He hovered on the edge of Palace Square, eyes narrowed at the green, gold, and white splendor in which the imperial family lived.
Nikolai had thought there was an unbreakable connection between him and Vika. He’d thought that being two of a kind tied their fates together. He’d thought, at the end of the Game, that she loved him.
But last night, she’d stopped his statue of Peter the Great, and now she’d gone to Pasha again.
To him, not me.
Nikolai sighed and turned his back on the palace.
Two enormous boxes sat before him in the center of the square. In the red one was a life-size jack-in-the-box; in the purple, a music-box ballerina. Nikolai and Vika, in enchanted puppet form. He’d created them during the Game to perform a pas de deux in the sky every evening when the clock chimed six o’clock. And just like his Dream Benches that continued his legacy, the Jack and ballerina still danced with each other every night.