All of a sudden, the iron color began to glow. The cracks in the craftsmanship began to show as it shone red like it had a molten core. It grew brighter and brighter until it looked like the entire piece of metal was hot, aflame, and straight from the blacksmith’s fire. The boy remained unaffected.
Whatever was happening, it wasn’t burning his skin or even seemingly giving off any heat. Mikhail watched, transfixed as he realized what Anastasia was doing. She was changing the energy, manipulating the metal.
Her magic seemed to work best with more organic forms, such as amplifying the food, water, or using air. He had never seen her change metal before.
There was a great flash that covered the whole room in bright, white light. As soon as Mikhail’s eyes adjusted, he gasped. The collar had disintegrated completely, pieces of it flying up into the air and floating down like ash.
The whole room was silent until the boy reached up and realized that the awful device was well and truly gone. He started crying, overwhelmed as he ran to the safety of his mother’s arms.
Mikhail looked around and realized the whole family was crying. He couldn’t even begin to describe what he felt, but his eyes immediately turned to Anastasia.
She looked incredibly pale, the sweat still sticking to her forehead, as using that much magic untrained likely drained her entirely.
Mikhail didn’t even think as he ran to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling him to his side to support her.
“I’m alright,” she offered a lame protest while simultaneously sinking into his embrace. Mikhail’s expression was stunned as Anastasia looked up at him.
“Anastasia…,” he started, his eyes wide. She didn’t know her limits or the ins and outs of her magic, apparently, but when there were stakes she cared about on the table — she knew what to do.
Anastasia felt cold after such an outpouring of her magic and found herself unable to turn from the strength of his warm grasp. She reached up and undid both of her earrings — still leaning into Mikhail’s side — and motioned for the mother to come to her.
“Take these,” she pressed them into the woman’s hands, “You can sell them for a good price. Leave St. Petersburg with your family, so theboyardoesn’t come for your son.”
The woman began to sob, looking up at Anastasia in awe.
“You are not like the other Romanovs, Anastasia.”
12
Anastasia smiled politely, not knowing how to respond. There was no love lost between her and her family. She was afraid of them if she was honest with herself. It made her uncomfortable whenever someone spoke about them, as if they were always hiding somewhere around the corner and waiting.
Mikhail tightened his arm around her, and she couldn’t help herself as she leaned back into him. “It’s late, Anastasia,” he said quietly, nodding towards the door.
“Oh God,” her face paled as she looked up at him. “How long have we been here?”
Mikhail shrugged, “I’m not sure… Why?”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of church bells, causing the remaining blood to leave Anastasia’s face. Mikhail’s brow furrowed. He saw fear on her face and didn’t like what it did to him.
“The services ended,” Anastasia groaned, burying her head in her hands for a moment before she covered her expression of dismay with a grin to hide her emotions from the neighbors. She moved away from Mikhail and waved for him to follow her into the corner.
“What is it? Why does it matter that church is out?”
“Because,” Anastasia hissed, “We can’tsneak back inif everyone isn’t in church!” The realization dawned over Mikhail, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
“Surely, there has to be some way that we can get back?”
“No,” Anastasia shook her head. “I’ve been at this for fifteen years, Mikhail. I know every door of that palace, and it’s the only time that’s safe to sneak out of.”
“Well, we can’t stay here until next Sunday — so we’re just going to have to figure something else out.”
“Most people are afraid of being labeled as heretics,” Anastasia began chewing on the inside of her cheek. “So they’ll all go to services.”
Mikhail shrugged, “Then that’s when we’ll have to go back.”
“And what’s your grand plan between now and then?” Anastasia looked at him with an exasperated look, trying to figure out why he wasn’t taking this as seriously as she was.
“I’m sorry,” another woman took a few steps towards them, “I overheard. I have a boarding house down the road. It’s small, but you could stay there until tomorrow morning.”
