The Crown's Game (The Crown's Game, #1)(94)

The calm was interrupted, though, by his scar, which scalded Nikolai’s skin so unbearably, he clutched at his collarbone and his knees almost gave out. If Nikolai’s skates hadn’t been charmed, he would not have been able to continue across the frozen bay. So many times yesterday, he had thought of taking his turn in the Game simply to alleviate the pain of the wands on his skin. And yet, he had refrained, for it was his fifth and final move. He could not waste it. So he had had to bear the scar’s searing.

He nearly crashed into the granite shore of the island. It had appeared too quickly. Perhaps his skates had glided faster than he anticipated. Perhaps he’d lost himself a little in the scorching wands. Or perhaps time had accelerated, the way it sometimes does when something dreadful is on the horizon. Regardless, Nikolai was at the island. The Game was upon him once again.

He clambered up the dock and changed his skates back into boots. He double-checked inside his coat that he had the knife Galina had given him, and then he began to walk straight to the center of the island. Here, the leaves were still green and the birds still sang in warm comfort, despite the winter that swirled in the bay and the river around it. The island was oblivious to its unhappy destiny.

Nikolai didn’t know where, exactly, to go, but the main promenade seemed an appropriate choice, the kind of field of honor typically found in duels. It was shielded from view from the embankments of Saint Petersburg to give them privacy from nosy onlookers. There was enough space for the enchanters to fight. And it was tragically beautiful, a cruel and perfect place for one of them to die.

Pasha wanted them to fight a classic duel. But there was nothing classic about it. There would be no seconds to check Nikolai’s and Vika’s weapons—for how could anyone check a weapon he cannot see?—and there would be no attempt at reconciliation, for the duel was not instigated at Vika’s or Nikolai’s request. There would be no counting of paces, because Nikolai did not intend to shoot at Vika with a pistol. And there would be no witnesses.

Or would there be? Nikolai quickened his pace. Was it possible that Pasha intended to witness the grand finale? It seemed unlikely, but with this new version of Pasha, Nikolai could not be sure.

As Nikolai turned onto the promenade, he stumbled. There, among the flowers and the oaks, stood two iron cages. Renata and Ludmila were inside. Nikolai ran.

“Renata! Madame Fanina! Are you all right?”

Ludmila stretched from where she had been asleep on the ground. Renata, however, had been standing with her forehead pressed against the bars. She jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Nikolai!”

“What has Pasha done?”

Renata shook her head. “Not the tsesarevich. His sister. She’s the one driving his decisions. She wants an Imperial Enchanter for him.”

“Damn it, Yuliana,” Nikolai muttered.

“What?” Renata pressed against the bars.

“Never mind, it’s not important right now. I need to get you two out.” He raised his arm.

“No, stop! Save your energy.”

“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.