“I don’t want you locked up like animals.”
“The grand princess promised our safety if we remained in the cages.”
“But why . . . Oh.” Nikolai sagged against the bars. “She means to remind us to finish the Game quickly.”
Renata cast her eyes downward and nodded.
Ludmila pulled herself up from the floor of her cell. “We will try not to watch you fight. Think only of the silver lining. With us here, we are at least able to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” Nikolai shook his head.
“Yes,” Ludmila said. “Good-bye. Just in case.”
At this, Renata took Nikolai’s face in her hands and touched their foreheads together in the space between the bars.
“Nikolai . . .”
“Oh, Renata—”
“Don’t say it.”
But he had to. After all she had done for him. “You’ve been the best companion I could have hoped for on this strange journey. I could never thank you enough. Take care of Galina, all right? And if there’s anything in my room that you want—”
“Stop.” She shook her head against his. “I refuse to say good-bye. And I will not say good luck either, for there is neither good nor luck in this duel.”
Nikolai nodded. She was, as she often was, right. Even in these last minutes.
“But I can’t let you leave without this: I have said it before, and now I say it again—I love you. I loved you even before I knew of your magic, Nikolai, and I have loved you ever since. And I will continue to love you, no matter what you choose to do.”
She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his. Her lips parted, and there was such soft courage in her gesture, his lips parted, too.
She lingered, but eventually she pulled away. She caressed his cheek. And then she whispered one more time, “I love you. Now go. And don’t forget to be you.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Vika arrived on an ice sleigh as the sun rose over the frozen horizon. She made her way toward the center of the island—it seemed the right place to start—and stepped onto the promenade just in time to see Nikolai kiss Renata.
Vika stopped mid-stride.
It took another moment for Vika to realize that next to where Renata and Nikolai gazed at each other, Ludmila stood locked in a cage. In fact, Vika had been so fixated on Renata’s and Nikolai’s lips, she hadn’t noticed that Renata, too, was imprisoned.
“Ludmila!” Vika flew to the bars.
Nikolai leaped back from Renata’s cell. “Vika . . . you’re here.”
She ignored him.
“Ludmila, who did this? We—I—have to set you free.”
“Hush, sunshine.” Ludmila stretched through the bars and patted Vika’s arm. “Leave me be. The grand princess guaranteed our release at the conclusion of the duel.”
“But you—”
“I’m fine. You must play the Game.”
Vika shook the bars. But then her arms gave out and she pressed against the cage. “I’m sorry I never told you about the Game, Ludmila. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I understand. I would have done the same.”
“I’m even sorrier that you were swept up in it.”
“No need for apologies, dear. Besides, there is no time.” Ludmila pointed behind Vika. “The sun is rising.”
Vika glanced over her shoulder. The sky had turned reddish orange, like a reverse image of the blood moon from the night. And with the sun hanging above the frozen water, the duel had officially begun.
It was Nikolai’s move. Vika whirled around and pressed her back against Ludmila’s cage so her friend would not be exposed.
“I won’t strike when you’re not looking,” Nikolai said quietly. “And I propose we go elsewhere on the island. I think it better if Madame Fanina and Renata were not forced to watch. Meet me at Candlestick Point when you’re finished saying your good-byes?”
Inside, Vika wilted, but outside, she merely nodded. No one before had called the peninsula at the northern tip of the island Candlestick Point, but she knew immediately what Nikolai meant. She had left Candlestick Point undeveloped when she created the island, hoping one of them would take advantage of the open space for an enchantment. Now it appeared it would be used as the field on which one of them died.
Nikolai bowed to both Vika and Ludmila. Renata squeezed his hand once more, and then he spun on his heel and strode away, as if he couldn’t get away from the cages—and to Candlestick Point—fast enough. He didn’t give even a passing glance to his benches.
“You should go, my dear,” Ludmila said to Vika. “I hope for your sake it ends quickly.”
“As do I. And I also wish it would never end.” Vika’s shoulders sagged.