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You must make haste, Leos Dzavek had commanded.
He had, sailing three hundred leagues in twelve days using magic. Time spinning backward through the barrier, then leaping forward on the return trip. It was as if his time in Morennioù existed in a bubble, like a soul’s multiple lives, compressed into a single short month.
The king is a thorough man, his father once told him. Karasek had seen the proof—the months of planning and maneuvers, all for an unknown enemy, in an unknown land.
It had started last summer. The king had summoned Miro Karasek to his private interview hall. Karasek had found him immersed in reading.
“You have new orders, your majesty?”
Dzavek looked up from his stacks of books. His gaze was diffuse, as though he saw images beyond Zalinenka’s white rooms. “I found him. I found my brother, Andrej.”
Karasek felt a river of cold pass over his skin, as though Károví’s brief summer had vanished into winter. Andrej Dzavek had died centuries ago, in the wars between Károví and the empire. Apparently that did not matter. Perhaps that was the key to understanding Leos Dzavek. All moments, past or future, were equal. All lives were now. It would be, he thought, like swimming in time.
The king explained. Andrej had returned to another life as a woman. His brother—this woman—was searching for the jewels in the magical plane of Vnejšek, just as Dzavek himself was.
What followed anyone might have predicted. The two brothers, no longer brothers, quarreled again. Andrej escaped before Dzavek could do anything more than injure him. In the aftermath, Dzavek had discovered mo
re clues, which led him to the second of Lir’s jewels, the ruby.
But he was not satisfied with one. He required all three. His health had ebbed in the past ten years. It was a sign that, even with the greatest magic, he could not evade death much longer.
And so, in meetings with Karasek, Markov, and Cernosek, Dzavek set out detailed plans for an undiscovered destination, an unknown enemy. Duke Miro Karasek would lead the invasion, Dzavek said, while Duke Markov would take temporary command of all the armies.
Drills and preparations followed throughout that summer. Karasek had thought their plans would come to nothing, when Dzavek summoned him a second time. Andrej had proved careless, had woken the jewel. Emerald had spoken to ruby, one magical creature to its other self. Through their speech, Dzavek discovered where his once-brother now lived.
More preparations and meetings followed. The final week passed in a blur of lists and reports and maps. Letters dispatched to his home in Taboresk. The ships stocked. The final troop selections. Weapons and supplies and gear. Dzavek wanted no blunders with this undertaking. He would not be denied again, he said. That explained several points in retrospect, Karasek thought. The contradiction between Dzavek’s meticulous plans and his extraordinary decree that Karasek should return the same day he located the emerald. It also explained the inclusion of Anastazia Vacek.
The last day at sunrise. They were on the point of launching the ships when Dzavek appeared with Anastazia Vacek at his side. “Your second in command,” he’d said.
Vacek had smiled and bowed. “My lord, I look forward to serving you and our king. We have the most satisfying orders.”
Two commanders. Two sets of orders. What promises had Dzavek extended to Anastazia Vacek that gave her such an expression of hungry delight?
Dzavek’s shuttered face had yielded no clues. After dismissing Vacek, he took Karasek to one side. “Remember the spells I gave you for launching the ships through the barrier. Do not discuss them with anyone. Not even Anastazia Vacek.”
Secrets within secrets within bloody secrets.
At departure, Dzavek passed along the lines of soldiers and sailors and touched his hand to each person’s mouth, Karasek’s last of all. Eyes closed, he still felt Dzavek’s dry fingers on his lips, still heard the king’s inarticulate murmur. His thoughts winged back to his companions. Whoever survived the battle would die before they betrayed their true mission. Discretion at a cost.
The moon had already reached its zenith. The night was spinning toward dawn. Karasek rose to his feet. Once more he checked the emerald’s pouch. All secure. With one last glance toward the south, he set off for Károví.
CHAPTER SIX
AFTER GALENA ALIGHERO left, Ilse collapsed onto the couch and stared at the ceiling.
Oh, Raul. We never expected this.
All their plans had centered around Armand of Angersee and his ambitions. Even Raul’s newest idea—to approach certain Károvín nobles and enlist their support—had at its heart the goal of dissuading Armand from war. They had not taken into consideration Leos Dzavek’s plans separate from Veraene. More important, they had forgotten about Morennioù.
I wonder if Leos Dzavek has forgotten anything in four hundred years.
She tried to imagine such a life. His brother killed in the first war. His promised bride reportedly executed as a spy. All his subsequent attempts to build a family ending in their death, while Dzavek lived on for centuries. What must he be like now?
She rubbed her knuckles against her eyes. Dzavek was not her concern. His ships and their mysterious mission were.
I have to get word to Raul. He must know before he talks to anyone in Károví.
The regional governor immediately came to mind. Nicol Joannis had corresponded with Raul in secret for years. Surely he could revive those channels. Surely he would want to, for such important news. The only difficulty was how to speak with him, without provoking suspicion, but Galena herself had provided the means. Ilse could pretend to plead her friend’s case. Once there, she could tell Lord Joannis about the escaped officer, then turn the discussion to Raul.
