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The weight of the massacre settled on his shoulders, threatening to send him to his knees. “For the rest of the night anyway, until we can better assess what we are facing. And to make certain that Vinti won’t suffer another attack.” He knew what the damage was by walking through—just not the death toll.
Eirah sucked her bottom lip in. “Will you stay in one of the vacant cottages?”
Because the inhabitants are dead.
He sighed. “I can sleep outside. It wouldn’t be my first time.” The cold didn’t touch him, not like it did a human. In his youth, he’d run from the castle, angered by one of his mother’s outbursts. Morozko had run as far from the palace as his legs would take him, and when he was too tired to continue running, he found a tall pine to sleep under. Nuka was only a pup then, not as large as he was now, and he’d curled his body around Morozko, protecting him. Eventually, the royal guard tracked him down, but after that, Morozko would often take to running away and sleeping beneath the stars.
Besides, the vacant homes could be used for tending to the wounded, like Eirah’s father, or preparing the dead, like Petre, for a funeral ceremony.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can at least sleep under a roof.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “None of these homes can compare to the castle, but it’s better than sleeping on the ground.”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised that she cared, yet here he was, carefully poring over her features. Kindness wasn’t openly offered to him, king or not. “Very well, little bird. I’ll lodge in one of the empty homes.” He inclined his head, nodding. “Nuka can take watch with the guards throughout the night.” He pointed to one of the towering trees nearby. “And your friend, too, if he feels so inclined.” Morozko surveyed the sky, looking for the owl, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Eirah cleared her throat, and her voice trembled. “Nastya’s home is empty… Follow me.” She turned around and led the way to a small stone cottage. Several windows had been shattered, but the structure was intact.
Morozko peered down the road, noting he was only a few houses down from where Eirah’s father, Fedir, rested. If need be, he could aid them quickly, especially with Nuka on guard.
Instead of entering, Eirah only stared at the home. Morozko figured she was recalling Nastya and whoever else once inhabited it before. “Come on, little bird,” he offered and strode forward, pushing the door open.
With no hearth blazing, or candles lit, it was dark inside. Morozko snapped his fingers—flames leaped from candlesticks, and the hearth sparked to life. He walked deeper into the living space of the home and sat in a wooden chair next to the fire.
Eirah didn’t sit right away. She gathered up some of the stacked wood and fed the fire. “You said you’d tell me everything.”
“Everything,” he echoed and leaned back. “That would take longer than a night, but I’ll tell you what you want to know—need to know.”
She moved to sit beside him in another chair, her dark eyes training on him in rapt attention. “What are these creatures that did this? And are they coming back?”
Morozko looked away from her and leaned his elbow on the chair’s arm. His eyes watched the flames in the hearth lick and dance along the newly added logs. “When Frosteria rose against my mother, slaying her, she created a sinister creature known as a changeling. She cursed the land, ensuring that, even in death, she’d be honored in some way. By sacrificing a life willingly and speaking the ritualistic words, she received recognition because a wicked part of her lived on. This kept the seal in place, but should the sacrifice not occur, the seal would break, and her creations would run free.”
His brow furrowed as he recounted his mother’s treacherous ways. “I told Vinti of this, and they knew it would be the undoing of the land—of its ruler. It was a simple enough task, or so I thought. It’s not my fault your people forgot.” When he turned to look at Eirah, a complex array of emotions flickered across her face. Regret, sorrow, anger.
“I didn’t know about any of this. If I had known, I would’ve sacrificed one of the animals myself,” she whispered. “But we had a hard year—”
“I know,” he ground out. “But in the broad scheme of things, it would have saved Vinti from its current heartache.” Morozko shrugged a shoulder, not oblivious to their struggles. Yet there was a need for the sacrifice, for a fucking reason. “I didn’t tell you because your people should have remembered such an important thing. And while foolish of me, I knew the immortals could handle what came their way, should the seal break.”
A line formed between Eirah’s brows. “Mortals age, our minds wither, and we die, in case you don’t remember. So yes, things turn into tales or vanish all together. Sometimes reminders are necessary.”
“It isn’t your fault, but mortals have a way of keeping traditions, passing them down to one another. I thought this one would be no different.” He sighed heavily, his frustration leaving him for the moment. “Before coming to the village, I had a vision.”
Eirah’s eyes widened, and she gaped at him. “You have visions?”
“I saw the ground cracking, changelings emerging, and you calling out my name, rushing toward me. At first, I didn’t know your purpose, so when I came to the ceremony and saw your face in the crowd, I selected you. Your hatred for me was visceral, which only intrigued me more. You even tried to take my life. But why wouldn’t you? With every reason to do just that.” He laughed mirthlessly and combed his fingers through his hair before glancing at her again. There was no argument on her lips—no guilt, either.
“Youdidgive me a reason for wanting to end your life,” she admitted.
This time, when Morozko laughed, he meant it. “I suppose so.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Over time, the vision became clearer. You had magic, and that’s why I gave you my blood. It was supposed to bring forth what you possessed, but it’s donemore.” He warred with revealing what he saw in her eyes, the sorrow, the worry, and how she rushed to him out of compassion. That wasn’t essential to what she needed to know.
“So, why push me? Why test me?”
Morozko chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Because I don’t know what you are.” It hurt his pride to admit it, but he was here to tell her the truth.
Eirah’s hands balled into fists, and she stared at the fire. “You don’t know what I am?” she repeated, sounding incredulous.
He watched her closely, even as she refused to meet his gaze. Morozko couldn’t blame her for being angry or frustrated. He’d done this to her, but it was part of a larger plan. “I know you have magic like mine and the ability to shift... That you’re immortal now.”
“But what am I?” Her voice came out in a whisper as though she were frightened.
“You areEirah of Vinti. What does it matterwhatyou are? As long as we know what you can do.Whoyou are is of more importance.” He bowed his head, picked beneath his thumbnail, and sighed. “And I believe you will save Frosteria.” At this, she finally turned to look at him.
