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“That’s sad,” I say.
Alexei shrugs. “We now believe that Riurik had at least two children, though most history books record only one. When he died, his wife ruled in his stead, along with a trusted advisor and a warrior named Oleg. They kept the kingdom in check for his young son, Ivor. His line ruled Russia until the beginning of the 1600s when Vasili the Fourth died.”
“After that, the rule of Russia was thrown into chaos,” Aleksandr says. “They called it the Time of Troubles, and it only ended in 1613, when Michael Romanov was elected the new Czar.”
“He was my ‘great times eight’ grandfather,” Alexei says. “Mom always called him that.”
“I always heard you were weak and sickly,” I say. “And I thought you were like ten or something when the revolution happened.”
“History’s written by the victors.” Alexei’s lip is curled in disgust. “Sickly, pah.” He inhales slowly, his nostrils flaring.
It occurs to me that for him, his family’s deaths would still be raw and new if he’s been asleep this whole time. I’m still struggling to believe all of it, but I can at least understand that it’s sad and pretty horrifying if it’s true.
“Leonid showed up when I was in college,” Alexei says. “His father claimed they were descended from the lost Riurik line, from a daughter who was not widely known, and as far as I know, they didn’t have any powers at all. At least, they never mentioned them, and we never brought it up either.”
“The Riurikid line, on the other hand, was always popping up,” Aleksandr says. “Or at least, claims of it.”
“But in this instance,” Alexei says, “when we investigated their claim, it looked like it might have been true. They had a decent amount of evidence that they were descended from Riurik.” He sighs. “My father made the decision that he would destroy all the evidence of it, and that he would bury the claim.”
Aleksandr doesn’t look surprised.
Neither does Grigoriy.
“Sometimes, for the peace of the people, it’s better if the truth isn’t broadcast,” he says. “But I thought at the time that my dad made a grave error. I think that error cost him his life.”
Aleks blinks.
Grigoriy’s head whips sideways.
“I think it got my entire family killed.” Alexei looks so tragically beautiful in that moment that my heart twists.
“But how?”
“After my father ignored them, buried their story, and set them aside, Leonid and his father went on to found the Bolshevik party, and that, combined with the famine. . .” Alexei shakes his head. “It was the perfect storm, but still, our family could have easily prevented the famine.”
“How?” I ask. “Did you hoard food or something?”
“Remember how you saw fireballs and lightning bolts?” Kristiana says.
I nod.
“There were five families, noble families, that were given powers back when the Romanovs ended the Time of Troubles,” Kristiana says. “Mikhail and Boris, whom you’ve met, are the children of two of them. They could shift into a horse form, which was extremely advantageous in a time when transportation was difficult and unreliable. They also were each bestowed power over a certain element.”
“Fire and lightning,” Mirdza says.
“And the other three families were the ones represented here. Aleksandr’s,” Kristiana says, “was given the power over earth.”
“Grigoriy’s family controls wind,” Mirdza says.
“And my family controls water.” Alexei picks up his hand and holds it steady.
Nothing happens.
He frowns.
Then he swears under his breath.
“Actually, we didn’t have time to explain that part of the curse yet,” Aleks says, “but you won’t be able to use your powers unless. . .”
