Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The night air was salty and cool off the Black Sea. Arkon looked through the trees surrounding the Winter Palace with its high wrought iron fencing and soldiers that were packed all around it.

"I think you’ve succeeded in making him piss himself in fear, mia lupa," Arkon said with a proud smile.

"Piss only? We can do better than that." Zarya’s hands tightened in his. "I’m glad you are here with me at the end of it all."

Arkon lifted her chin and gave her a soft kiss because he knew it would make her cheeks flush pink in a way he couldn’t get enough of.

"This is the beginning, and don’t you forget it. You’re not going to kill the emperor and then disappear on me."

Zarya rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily."

"Good. Because I have plans for you."

"Do you now?"

Arkon bit his bottom lip. "The list is long."

"Stop distracting me before a fight."

Zahir appeared behind them. "This isn’t going to be a fight, but a reckoning. You two focus on the emperor. We will deal with the general and the soldiers. Try not to kill anyone that’s not him, or Gio will have a fit."

"Don’t tell me how to enjoy things," Arkon said with a scowl. He was only doing to it to stir Zahir up; he didn’t want any more losses of life either. The war had gone on too long, and what he had seen in the camps would haunt him forever.

"Go, Zahir. We will start the distractions," Zarya said, runes flickering under her skin. She was already pulling up the first illusions. They wanted Arkadi paralyzed with fear so he would make mistakes. If the soldiers had the same response, it would make Zahir’s job easier.

Arkon placed his hands on the cold fence, the iron making his magic twitch. It was an annoyance, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from working his magic. Heat built under his palms, warming the metal. He pulled the soft bars apart to create an opening for them to get though. Zarya came behind him and was followed by a grizzled old man with a scar crossing both of his lips.

"Arkadi’s father, I presume?" Arkon asked, and Zarya nodded. The other illusion was far more unnerving. Odin All-Father had his hair in battle braids, a leather patch over his eye, and dressed in armor. He held a large spear in one hand and had a raven sitting on each shoulder.

"I don’t know about the emperor, but I think I would piss myself if I had him coming for me," Arkon said, staring in awe at the details in Zarya’s work. He wasn’t dumb enough to ask how accurate it was. With her heritage, she could have met the real thing.

"Feed them your magic, and we will set them loose," Zarya said, her mind already focused on the chase. No more jokes until the deed was done. She was a wolf on the hunt. God, she was magnificent.

Arkon fed power into the illusions and watched them grow. Something they had learned in Kyiv was that people responded to a big illusion that looked ready to smite them.

Zarya’s skin shivered, and teeth lengthened into fangs and back again.

"Change if you need to," Arkon said gently. She shook her head.

"If I let it out now, I won’t be able to get it back in. We are too close."

The giant illusions started to walk through the palace grounds. Soldiers began to cry out and flee in front of them.

"Where is Arkadi? Where is my son?" the old emperor boomed.

Arkon almost felt sorry for the way grown men fell to their knees in fear. Zarya lifted her nose in the air and sniffed it like a wolf. "I can smell him. This way, Arkon. He’s not in the palace."

They left the chaos behind them, and Arkon followed Zarya through the gardens and down to the water. The moon was full over the sea, and it would have been breathtaking under any other circumstances.

Arkon didn’t have time to enjoy the scenery. He was too focused on the way his beloved began to glow, her power and the wolf inside of her hunting their prey. She was relentless, and Arkon had a thrill run through him at the thought of her hunting him in the same way. He was sure that wasn’t a normal thought to have, but nothing about them was normal.

The gardens were all connected by white stone paths, fountains, and pretty pergolas. The trees had been covered to protect them from the oncoming winter, and it gave everything an otherworldly, ghostly feeling to it.

Zarya stopped, her boots crunching in the gravel. "Shit."

"What’s wrong?" Arkon asked.

"I just stepped on a mine," she whispered. "That little wormy fuck thought I could be stopped with mines?"

Arkon fought not to take a step back. He was worried about taking a step anywhere.

"How would you like to handle this?" he asked.

"Ward around my foot and the ground around it. We can contain it like we did Gregor’s grenade," Zarya said, her eyes turning silver. "I will deal with the others."

Arkon knelt down and drew on his power. Bright flames streaked through his sigil, and he placed it under her foot and around the bomb. He kissed her knee. "You ready?"

"Do it. I trust you," Zarya said.

Arkon counted, and on three, she lifted her leg. Arkon held the warding as the bomb shattered, caught in an invisible bubble that contained it. Arkon tossed it out over the sea before letting it go off.

"My turn," Zarya said. Her silvery threads of power streaked out of her and along the ground. They plucked up the mines like they were mushrooms and bundled them all together. With a wave of her arms, the ball of bombs shot out over the sea and detonated with a fireball that lit up the sky and shattered the windows of the palace.

Arkon applauded her, and she took a small bow. "You do love to show me up, don’t you?"

"And you love that about me."

"One of many things, Wolf Mage. Shall we continue?" he said, and she nodded, her smile going dark. That little feral smile was just one more thing that he loved about her.

"He’s going to the grove," Zarya whispered, her voice shifting as magic infused it. Arkon followed her, not knowing what she was referring to but keeping a close eye out for any more bombs, trip lines, or soldiers ready to jump them.

The trees grew thicker, and a presence of old magic made Arkon’s skin tingle. There was a scent in the air, something sweet…and oily.

"Zarya!" Arkon grabbed her and pulled her backwards as flames erupted around them. There was oil encircling the grove, and Arkon tried not to stare as it all came into view. There was a stone altar under a huge oak tree. Old nooses swayed in the branches and brushed against statues and carvings of Odin.

"Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot him, Zarya!" Arkadi came out from behind the tree with a flaming torch in one hand and a gun in the other. His face dripped with sweat, and he didn’t look like he’d slept in a week, his eyes bloodshot and wild.

"Tell me why, Arkadi," Zarya said, her voice steady and cold. "Why did you kill her?"

"Because you were never going to love me, that’s why. I needed to have power when you left! You were always going to leave me for him!" Arkadi shouted, waving the gun about.

Zarya’s eyes turned silver. "I was loyal to you, but no, I was never going to love you. That didn’t give you the right to use my sister and then have your dog’s pull her apart like she was meat."

Arkon pressed his magic into the flames and snuffed out a path for her to move into the grove. This was her revenge, and he wouldn’t interfere, no matter what happened next.

Zarya’s magic was curling about her now, that divine silvery blue light rising out of her.

"You abomination, you all deserve to fucking die like the freaks you are!" Arkadi spat and fired the gun at her. Zarya’s magic flung the bullet away. He fired again, and he screamed as the gun exploded in his hand. His fingers hung in mutilated stumps, and he shrieked in fury. It was that exact reason guns weren’t used anymore. Arkon didn’t feel a shred of pity for the man in front of him.

"You swore an oath in this very grove to protect the people of your empire. You swore with your own blood, Arkadi, to the old gods and the new," Zarya said, her hands rising for her killing blow. "You betrayed them, slaughtered them, starved them, and pushed them out onto battlefields long after the Republic had been asking for peace talks. You brought dishonor onto the people and the gods you swore to serve. And you will die as the traitor you are."

Zarya’s magic rose, and before it could detonate, it was suddenly snuffed out. Arkon froze, looking about for the threat that he couldn’t see.

The fires extinguished all at once, plunging them into darkness. The branches of the oak tree shook, and Arkadi began to scream. Mist rolled in, and Arkon saw the outline of a tall figure in the shadows. Zarya clamped her hands over Arkon’s eyes.

"Don’t look at him, Arkon. Keep your eyes closed," she whispered desperately. Arkon didn’t breathe, just hung onto Zarya. She whispered something in Norwegian, and the emperor’s screaming finally stopped. Arkon didn’t hear a reply, only a fluttering of thousands of wings battering around him. The heavy feeling of magic vanished, and Arkon’s power rushed back in.

"It’s okay now. You can open your eyes," Zarya whispered, kissing his face. Arkon opened his eyes, and his stomach turned at what was left of the emperor. He was suspended from the oak tree by the old nooses, his eyes and tongue had been torn out. His side had a huge gaping wound that showed bone and lung and organs.

"W-What just happened?" Arkon said, unable to stop the tremble in his voice.

Zarya stared up at the body, her eyes full of vicious fire. "He made a vow to the gods. The Christian god might forgive an oath breaker. Odin does not."

Arkon remembered what Tiziano had said the previous evening about Astrid going to speak with the gods, and it sent a chill down his spine. He looked at his Wolf Mage, so full of secrets and mysteries, descendant of the goddess of magic and war herself. Arkon took her hand and vowed never to let it go.