6. Stirring Lecture

Two days had passed since Valerian had returned under frightening circumstances. Two excruciatingly long days since Drazhan had swept out of Rahn's room, brimming with vengeance and rendering Aesylt a veritable prisoner in the hands of Scholar Tindahl.

But what really had Aesylt's nerves on edge day and night was the silence. The lack of news, of any kind. She'd tried probing the kitchen staff when they passed meals through Rahn's service gap, but they either knew nothing or would say nothing. Maia was no more forthright. The only thing she could offer was that Imryll and the others were still in the same situation as Aesylt, sequestered in their apartments and waiting for the same news.

The world beyond their row of fogged panes was snowy and quiet. Dusk had descended an hour ago, darkness imminent.

If there was a skirmish underway, it wasn't happening at Fanghelm.

Aesylt unenthusiastically stabbed at the congealed remnants of her stew. She'd eaten as much as her sour belly could tolerate, and only because she'd need her energy for what she had planned.

Rahn sat in a rickety wooden rocker at the corner window, one leg propped over the other, his notebook resting against his trousers. His quill tapped the paper as he divided his attention between the night sky and his notes. His spectacles, the ones he needed for reading and writing, balanced on his nose, and there was something about the man in those moments that?—

"Aesylt. Come look at this."

"I'm fine over here," she said crossly, slopping her spoon through the sludge in her bowl.

His sigh was delayed. "Were you not the one who proffered a stirring lecture on putting emotion aside for the betterment of science?"

Aesylt flickered her eyes upward, her muscles clenching. He wanted to talk about her stirring lecture but not the reason she'd given it?

She braced against the chair and pushed to her feet, cursing under her breath as she shuffled toward him. He glanced up with a gentle smile that made her feel unreasonable for her anger. But it didn't go away either.

"What am I looking at?" she asked, lifting a hand to the side in poorly acted disinterest.

"You see that cloud cover over the range?" He pointed his quill and glanced up to make sure she was following. His tenderness with her was maddening, but it was also an unexpectedly warm hug. "If I could get to the observatory, I'd be able to confirm this, but..." He rifled through his notebook, flipping page after page. "That cluster of stars we've been studying. The bowman?"

"Mhm," she said when he waited for her confirmation.

"You know how we've been puzzling over its appearance on some nights and not on others? How our predictions have all been wrong?"

"I suppose," Aesylt replied with a dismissive shrug, but her curiosity was officially piqued. She could turn her nose up at anything else, but not the research. Months their cohort had been charting the elusive bowman, and they'd found no discernible pattern or cycle to its waning or waxing presence in the sky. It was seemingly random, but randomness, as Rahn had explained, though not unheard of in nature, should never be used in lieu of searching for the truth.

"Bonfire nights." He waved his quill at the sky, grinning back at her. "In the village."

"And?"

"All that smoke... It goes somewhere, doesn't it?" He adjusted in excitement. "I read a pamphlet once on smoke and fire, and well, I won't bore you with all of it, but what I found fascinating was the revelation that the reason smoke and heat rise is that they're both less dense than cold air. The decreased density allows them to spread apart and move faster, thus rising—at least if the surrounding air is cooler." He paused, his look reminding her of a little boy showing his parents something he built.

Her mouth hooked into a half smile despite her temperament.

"The air is always cooler here. Even in springtide. So the smoke goes up. It eventually dissipates, as all gaseous matters do, but not before creating a haze." He flipped through the pages once more, pausing every few with a hard tap. "Every third, eighteenth, and twenty-seventh day is a bonfire night in midwinter, but in wintertide, it switches to every second, sixteenth, and twenty-ninth. Look at these dates."

Aesylt leaned in, but he was flipping too fast. "You're saying the nights we couldn't see the bowman were bonfire nights?"

Rahn nodded, visibly restraining a burst of elation.

Bonfire nights were a Vjestik tradition, a reason to gather as a community. Warmth, food, ale, and conversation. Some joined to cast salt or other spices into the flames, to invite protections against their family or business. Others used the bonfires to dispose of unwanted items. Most came for the community. But those nights were always a spectacle. Five, six, sometimes seven pyres would burn down the main road, enough to warm the entire stretch, leading to ashy mornings that put a burn in even the strongest villager's lungs. "Contaminants in the air create obfuscations..." Aesylt made a huh sound. "Well it seems so obvious now."

Rahn loosed his spectacles from his face and let them fall with their chain against his chest. It was then she saw the gleam of keys in his lower vest pocket. "We were looking for the wrong patterns. And yes, it does, doesn't it?" He shook his head. "Of course, to validate, we'll need to visit the observatory on those nights."

Aesylt wanted to share his enthusiasm, even if she couldn't find the desire to express it. But the way Rahn had been acting like nothing was amiss, deftly dodging any attempt she'd made to argue the merits of defying Drazhan's ridiculous order, was all the armor she needed to keep her giddiness to herself.

And there was still—like a festering sore—the matter of the proposition she'd made, which he was pretending hadn't happened. He'd said not a word until he'd smoothly called her to task for being a hypocrite.

"Can't very well do that locked away in your apartments, can we?" She spun away, ashamed of her lack of restraint... her insolent tone. It was impractical and worked against her plan, which needed to happen soon,or she'd be forced to wait another night. Without knowing what the devil was going on outside their doors, or when it would stop, she couldn't afford to delay.

"It's not forever." His eyes locked onto hers. The way he treated every person speaking like they were the only other individual in the room had always disarmed her, but she was impervious in her current state of annoyance. His gaze swept downward briefly. "I can have your vedhma bring more clothing for you. You could wear mine, though you'd be swimming in it."

Aesylt patted herself in indignance. "What, am I too filthy for you, Scholar? Is there a stench?"

"Neither question requires an answer, as I'm sure you knew before you asked." He grinned and stood, setting his notebook and quill on the small table. With a stretch and a yawn, he turned toward the room.

Stop goading the man. You need his concern pointed anywhere but you. "Fine. Send for clothes. Trousers and blouses though. I'm tired of gowns."

"I will then. First thing." He reached for his implements and carried them to the armoire where he kept his ink blots and paper.

It's now or wait another night.

When she was sure he was fully occupied, Aesylt carefully slinked to the other side of the room, opposite of where his back was turned. She started a slow tiptoe toward him but froze midway, when he looked over his shoulder.

"Look... I know you're frustrated. I'll send word to your brother tomorrow and see if he'll at least give us... something. Perhaps he'll see fit to expanding your borders so you're not stuck with me day and night. Even I would consider it torture."

She could almost feel him grinning to himself at his flat attempt at humor.

Aesylt muttered her response from the side of her mouth, praying it was enough to obscure her location, and he returned to sorting his cabinet. Flitting forward another few steps, she breathed deep and stretched a hand slowly forward, then stopped when it looked like he was going to speak again. When he didn't, she said a silent prayer and reached forward, this time hooking her pinky under the thick ring of keys poking from the top of his vest pocket. He tensed, but something else drew his attention, and the danger passed.

She squinted, bracing from head to toe as she slowly lifted. Her hand shook, so she went even slower, until she had them fully extricated from his pocket.

Rahn startled again. When he started to turn, Aesylt swiftly shifted into the celestial realm.

She couldn't stay any longer than it would take him to search his apartment and discover she wasn't there. But if she phased back while he was still standing at the cabinet, he'd see her and the stolen keys and know precisely what she'd done. She'd never be able to hide them fast enough. And he'd certainly never be so careless again.

Panting, she took a moment to recover herself. Starwalking had limited function as a stealth ability. She could only return to where she'd left. She couldn't shift into the celestial realm and stalk the halls, learning their secrets, because she could only see those who were in the realm with her. Rahn could be anywhere. She'd only find out where upon returning, and if she did at the wrong time, it was over.

She had no choice though. He'd be looking for her soon, if he wasn't already.

Aesylt counted to sixty, phased back...

And stumbled sideways from the force of her relief.

The cabinet was closed and latched.

The scholar wasn't in the room at all anymore.

"I'll be finished dressing shortly and then the bedchamber is yours for the night," Rahn called from the distance. "I may turn in soon actually, if you don't find it terribly rude."

"Hvala, Ancestors," she whispered, stuffing the keys inside the bosom of her gown. It was the one place his gaze wouldn't travel. The man was far too concerned with proprieties. "Of course not, Scholar," she said, louder, grinning in the nascent dark. "I think I may just do the same."

Aesylt crouchedbehind the split of a double-trunked evergreen at the edge of the courtyard of the Petrovash estate, Hibernal. There were only a couple of guards she could see, both swaying on their feet. It was otherwise unsurprisingly quiet, reminiscent of the Petrovashes' famous neutrality on all matters.

Escaping Fanghelm had been easier than she'd expected. Only the Wynters were on lockdown, but Fanghelm was otherwise operating as usual. Cloaked in a man's dress—almost comically swimming under Rahn's bulky fur cloak—she drew minimal gazes, and none lingered. People saw what they expected, and no one expected Aesylt Wynter to be traipsing about in her scholar's clothing.

But all it would take is for Rahn to wake. To notice the unlocked door. The missing keys. The missing girl.

She perked when one of the Petrovash guards started speaking to the other. She waited impatiently for their conversation to end, but what happened instead was even more fortuitous. They both started toward the east side of the keep, leaving the courtyard unguarded. There wouldn't be a better opportunity, not unless she wanted to risk being out at dawn, so she gathered the hem of the teeming cloak in both fists, lifted, and ran as fast as she could with the added weight.

Niklaus's apartment was on the ground floor of the west wing. He always slept with one window cracked, even in the winter. He liked to say the Petrovashes ran hot because they were bred for living under the mountain, as many kyschun did. But Aesylt knew his family subscribed to old Vjestik superstitions about always leaving a way for the Ancestors to get in.

Aesylt stretched up onto her tiptoes and slapped the frame until she found the right spot to push. She winced when the window creaked, cutting a sharp sound through the silent night, and waited for her pulse to even out before digging her boots against the stone wall. With a muffled grunt, she hoisted herself until her forearms draped over the sill. She wiggled as quietly as she could, but the thickness of the furs kept her from going any farther.

A slice of steel cut through the air. She arrested, trying to retreat, until she heard, "Aesylt?"

"Keep it down." She hissed in relief and dropped to the snowy ground with a crunching thud. She waved a hand. "And put that away before you cut your own hand off."

Niklaus held his suspicious gaze on her as he sheathed his dagger. He retreated into his room and returned with a candle. "Where's your brother?"

"At Fanghelm," she said irritably. "Come down here."

He leaned out and glanced around with a shaky sigh. "You shouldn't be here. Have you gone mad?" He smirked. "Madder than usual?"

"I need your help." She shivered under the cloak, thinking of how long she'd already been gone, how much longer she'd need before she could return. "I need to see him, Nikky."

Niklaus's face crumpled in horror. "Oh, nien. Nien, nien, nien. That's a terrible idea, Aes, trust me. The Barynovs do not want you anywhere near him. Hoarfrost is teeming with guards, and there's no... No, there's no way."

"I'm going." She plied him with a searching look to disguise her own fear. "With or without you. But it will be easier and safer if you come with me and help me find a way in."

"There isn't a way in!" His face crumpled, and he lowered his voice, craning out again with another nervous glance to each side. "The Barynovs are expecting war. They're preparing for war. You cannot just stroll onto Hoarfrost like you did Hibernal and expect anything but chaos."

"I need to see him." She pulled down her ungainly hood and implored him, sputtering through a caught mouthful of hair. "I didn't do that to him, and I need to know what really happened. I can't go another night without knowing."

Niklaus dragged his hands down his face. "No one knows. You won't get anything from his family except accusations. We aren't getting any answers until Val wakes up and can tell us himself. From what Onkel Anton told me, we shouldn't be getting our hopes up."

"He might wake for me." Aesylt lifted her chin with false pride. She couldn't tell him about the last conversation between her and Val. What she'd promised. Despite her denial and fear, she finally realized she'd truly believed the good-bye had been forever. But he was alive, and there was no reason to expect he wouldn't still mean the words when he regained consciousness.

Betrothal was a problem for another day.

Niklaus peered behind himself with a yielding shrug. He sounded almost hostile when he responded. "Tak, I suppose he might. For you. But do you really want to risk your life on a maybe?"

"The Barynovs won't hurt me," she stated. "They want to, but they won't. Their fear of Drazhan is greater than their hatred of me. And they once dealt with me as an equal, when it was me in my brother's seat."

He watched her in intense silence. "You better hope you're right. Because your brother isn't here to intervene this time. He doesn't even know you're doing this, does he? Don't answer. I already know there's no chance."

Aesylt sighed, shifting from one foot to another as a cold gust ripped through the courtyard, sending a mournful song threading through the pines. "Look, I don't know how long I have before the scholar finds I've given him the slip. He'll go straight to Draz, which won't be good for anyone."

"I can't talk you out of this, can I?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. He waved a hand and muttered for her to give him a minute. She waited in bittersweet relief.

Moments later, he was dressed and sliding out the window to join her.

When he landed, he pulled her in for a ferocious hug. "I'm only doing this because I know you're stubborn enough to go without me." He pulled back to regard her more closely, his head shaking. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

Aesylt cupped his face in her hands and kissed his nose. "Volemthe, Nikky. Hvala."

"Don't thank me yet, madwoman." Niklaus grabbed her and aimed her away from the keep with a soft shove. "We'll go the back way. Less chance of someone seeing us."

They moved in silence through the garden and then climbed out through an adjoining pasture, until they were on a familiar forest path.

"So what happened with you that day at Fanghelm? After Val came back?" he asked. The trail was speckled with fresh snow, but the older piles had been plowed into banks on either side.

Aesylt shrugged under Rahn's furs. "I don't know. Drazhan was acting strangely when he came to the observatory with his men. He only told me about Val right before the mob came for us."

"Everyone is saying you..."

"Spelled him." Her breath furled before her in a dense white cloud. "It's not true."

"I never thought it was. But you know our people. They smell a koldyna; they're ready to ride."

"Mm."

"Are you going to tell me what you think going to the Barynovs will accomplish? He's not going to wake up, Aes. Not anytime soon."

She didn't have a satisfying answer. All she knew was she needed to see Val. To lay hands on him and listen to the stories of his flesh. "Has there been more fighting?"

Nik shook his head. "Just your brother and Esker trading prickly letters that go nowhere."

"I wonder why he has me locked away with the scholar then."

"Indeed." Niklaus chuckled without humor. "Was wondering the same."

"It's been nothing short of imprisonment, I assure you," she said, eyeing him from the side.

"Oh, I'm sure." He snorted. "And the cohort? What's going to happen with that?"

"It's just him and me now, until you can come back," she said with a hard breath out. "But we won't let the research suffer. We'll... figure it out."

"Figure it out?"

"It's just this upcoming subject. It's... never mind."

Niklaus came to an abrupt stop. "What?"

Aesylt kept walking, but he hadn't budged.

"Tell me."

She slowed and turned. "Jasika's cohort was supposed to be handling it, but Imryll wanted Rahn to take it instead because it requires participatory exercises rather than just documentation, and they're all women now on her cohort, and..."

"Say it already."

Her gaze lowered. "Coitus."

Niklaus cocked his head all the way to the side. "Sex?"

Aesylt shrugged. "We're working on a plan."

"You're working on a plan?"

"Can we keep moving?"

"Aesylt!"

Aesylt craned her neck to look up at him. "We'll do what we have to do, all right? There are ways around the... ah, problem. But we can't refuse. You know that. The Reliquary is looking for any reason to kick us out of our own study, and we won't let it happen."

"You absolutely can refuse!"

"Tak," she said softly. "But then it all ends, doesn't it?"

"So you're going to..." Niklaus brought both hands to his nose. "Fuck the scholar?"

She shrugged, but her heart launched into a sudden race. Was she? Rahn was the one who needed convincing. "You're making this out to be something personal when it's not. It's science."

Niklaus cackled, throwing his head back. "Fucking for science. That's a new one to me. Don't recall reading that anywhere in our charter."

"For the love of the Ancestors, you're making this far more than it is."

"Am I?" His smile was gone. "Never mind that if your brother even had a whisper of suspicion about this, he would murder the man, how exactly are you going to explain who compiled the research notes and how? The Reliquary has the cohort's names. We can't make them up."

"I don't have all the answers now, and frankly, I'm exhausted, and this isn't—" She lifted and lowered her shoulders with a weighty sigh. "I can only focus on one problem at a time."

"Is it a problem though, Aes? I see the way you look at the man. Science, eh?"

A hot flush flooded her cheeks. "If you cannot speak about this like an academic, then we're not going to speak of it at all."

He shook his head and continued without her.

Aesylt took a quick moment to gather herself and followed.