The duel would begin as soon as the sun rose.

Pasha crawled across his bedroom and threw up in a vase.

He would not allow himself to get up from the floor.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN.

At six o'clock in the morning, Nikolai stood on the banks of the Neva and looked out across the dark bay. In the distance, his lanterns lit up the island, but he knew there was no one there, for Pasha had declared it closed. Of course, if Nikolai had wanted to step foot on the island yesterday, he could have found a way. But he hadn't wanted to. Why visit the execution block where he might be scheduled to die?

Today, however, he had no choice. With one last glance over his shoulder, a farewell to the city he loved, Nikolai conjured a pair of skates and allowed them to carry him over the ice. It was a simple charm, one that wouldn't take too much from him before the duel commenced, and it would give him a few more moments of peace.

The calm was interrupted, though, by his scar, which scalded Nikolai's skin so unbearably, he clutched at his collarbone and his knees almost gave out. If Nikolai's skates hadn't been charmed, he would not have been able to continue across the frozen bay. So many times yesterday, he had thought of taking his turn in the Game simply to alleviate the pain of the wands on his skin. And yet, he had refrained, for it was his fifth and final move. He could not waste it. So he had had to bear the scar's searing.

He nearly crashed into the granite sh.o.r.e of the island. It had appeared too quickly. Perhaps his skates had glided faster than he antic.i.p.ated. Perhaps he'd lost himself a little in the scorching wands. Or perhaps time had accelerated, the way it sometimes does when something dreadful is on the horizon. Regardless, Nikolai was at the island. The Game was upon him once again.

He clambered up the dock and changed his skates back into boots. He double-checked inside his coat that he had the knife Galina had given him, and then he began to walk straight to the center of the island. Here, the leaves were still green and the birds still sang in warm comfort, despite the winter that swirled in the bay and the river around it. The island was oblivious to its unhappy destiny.

Nikolai didn't know where, exactly, to go, but the main promenade seemed an appropriate choice, the kind of field of honor typically found in duels. It was shielded from view from the embankments of Saint Petersburg to give them privacy from nosy onlookers. There was enough s.p.a.ce for the enchanters to fight. And it was tragically beautiful, a cruel and perfect place for one of them to die.

Pasha wanted them to fight a cla.s.sic duel. But there was nothing cla.s.sic about it. There would be no seconds to check Nikolai's and Vika's weapons-for how could anyone check a weapon he cannot see?-and there would be no attempt at reconciliation, for the duel was not instigated at Vika's or Nikolai's request. There would be no counting of paces, because Nikolai did not intend to shoot at Vika with a pistol. And there would be no witnesses.

Or would there be? Nikolai quickened his pace. Was it possible that Pasha intended to witness the grand finale? It seemed unlikely, but with this new version of Pasha, Nikolai could not be sure.

As Nikolai turned onto the promenade, he stumbled. There, among the flowers and the oaks, stood two iron cages. Renata and Ludmila were inside. Nikolai ran.

"Renata! Madame Fanina! Are you all right?"

Ludmila stretched from where she had been asleep on the ground. Renata, however, had been standing with her forehead pressed against the bars. She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Nikolai!"

"What has Pasha done?"

Renata shook her head. "Not the tsesarevich. His sister. She's the one driving his decisions. She wants an Imperial Enchanter for him."

"d.a.m.n it, Yuliana," Nikolai muttered.

"What?" Renata pressed against the bars.

"Never mind, it's not important right now. I need to get you two out." He raised his arm.

"No, stop! Save your energy."

"I don't want you locked up like animals."

"The grand princess promised our safety if we remained in the cages."

"But why . . . Oh." Nikolai sagged against the bars. "She means to remind us to finish the Game quickly."

Renata cast her eyes downward and nodded.

Ludmila pulled herself up from the floor of her cell. "We will try not to watch you fight. Think only of the silver lining. With us here, we are at least able to say good-bye."

"Good-bye?" Nikolai shook his head.

"Yes," Ludmila said. "Good-bye. Just in case."

At this, Renata took Nikolai's face in her hands and touched their foreheads together in the s.p.a.ce between the bars.

"Nikolai . . ."

"Oh, Renata-"

"Don't say it."

But he had to. After all she had done for him. "You've been the best companion I could have hoped for on this strange journey. I could never thank you enough. Take care of Galina, all right? And if there's anything in my room that you want-"

"Stop." She shook her head against his. "I refuse to say good-bye. And I will not say good luck either, for there is neither good nor luck in this duel."

Nikolai nodded. She was, as she often was, right. Even in these last minutes.

"But I can't let you leave without this: I have said it before, and now I say it again-I love you. I loved you even before I knew of your magic, Nikolai, and I have loved you ever since. And I will continue to love you, no matter what you choose to do."

She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his. Her lips parted, and there was such soft courage in her gesture, his lips parted, too.

She lingered, but eventually she pulled away. She caressed his cheek. And then she whispered one more time, "I love you. Now go. And don't forget to be you."

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT.

Vika arrived on an ice sleigh as the sun rose over the frozen horizon. She made her way toward the center of the island-it seemed the right place to start-and stepped onto the promenade just in time to see Nikolai kiss Renata.

Vika stopped mid-stride.

It took another moment for Vika to realize that next to where Renata and Nikolai gazed at each other, Ludmila stood locked in a cage. In fact, Vika had been so fixated on Renata's and Nikolai's lips, she hadn't noticed that Renata, too, was imprisoned.

"Ludmila!" Vika flew to the bars.

Nikolai leaped back from Renata's cell. "Vika . . . you're here."

She ignored him.

"Ludmila, who did this? We-I-have to set you free."

"Hush, sunshine." Ludmila stretched through the bars and patted Vika's arm. "Leave me be. The grand princess guaranteed our release at the conclusion of the duel."

"But you-"

"I'm fine. You must play the Game."

Vika shook the bars. But then her arms gave out and she pressed against the cage. "I'm sorry I never told you about the Game, Ludmila. I didn't want you to worry."

"I understand. I would have done the same."

"I'm even sorrier that you were swept up in it."

"No need for apologies, dear. Besides, there is no time." Ludmila pointed behind Vika. "The sun is rising."

Vika glanced over her shoulder. The sky had turned reddish orange, like a reverse image of the blood moon from the night. And with the sun hanging above the frozen water, the duel had officially begun.

It was Nikolai's move. Vika whirled around and pressed her back against Ludmila's cage so her friend would not be exposed.

"I won't strike when you're not looking," Nikolai said quietly. "And I propose we go elsewhere on the island. I think it better if Madame Fanina and Renata were not forced to watch. Meet me at Candlestick Point when you're finished saying your good-byes?"

Inside, Vika wilted, but outside, she merely nodded. No one before had called the peninsula at the northern tip of the island Candlestick Point, but she knew immediately what Nikolai meant. She had left Candlestick Point undeveloped when she created the island, hoping one of them would take advantage of the open s.p.a.ce for an enchantment. Now it appeared it would be used as the field on which one of them died.

Nikolai bowed to both Vika and Ludmila. Renata squeezed his hand once more, and then he spun on his heel and strode away, as if he couldn't get away from the cages-and to Candlestick Point-fast enough. He didn't give even a pa.s.sing glance to his benches.

"You should go, my dear," Ludmila said to Vika. "I hope for your sake it ends quickly."

"As do I. And I also wish it would never end." Vika's shoulders sagged.

Ludmila sighed and looped her arms around Vika, pulling her into the bars for an embrace. "I may not be your mother, but like Sergei, I have watched you grow, and I consider you my own. You are strong and smart, and however this Game ends, know that you will have done me and Sergei proud. You are a wonder, Vika. I'm blessed to have had you in my life." Ludmila sniffled, and Vika held her as tight as she could.

Then Ludmila released her and retreated into the middle of her cage. "Now go. Your fate awaits. I cannot keep you from it any longer."

Renata leaned against her bars. "Be brave," she said. "Both you and Nikolai."

Vika blinked back tears and nodded. Then she, like Nikolai, hurried away. She understood now that it was impossible to leave any other way.

He waited for her at the end of Candlestick Point, his back to her, looking out onto the unmoving bay. His dark figure cut against the dawn light, an ominous silhouette from his top hat down to the sharp toe of his boot. Vika's feet hardly touched the gravel as she approached, but they still stirred the air around her, and it was inconceivable that Nikolai would not have heard. Yet he did not acknowledge her until she was only a few yards away.

Nikolai turned to face her. The knife Galina had given him rested in his gloved hand.

Vika put up a double shield. Unlike Nikolai, she hadn't put on her gloves this morning, improper as that might be. They had never before impeded her magic, but she was not taking any chances today.

"How have you been?" he asked. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Vika narrowed her eyes. Was he actually trying to have a conversation, right here, right now? Or was it a deceptive ploy? She kept her distance. "You saw me yesterday in the palace."

"You ran away before we had a chance to talk. That hardly counts as seeing you."

"I did not run, I glided away in a sled. And I did not want to talk."

He gave her a wry smile. It might have been charming if it weren't for the dagger he twirled in his hands. "I missed you," he said. Then he corrected himself. "I missed your enchantments."

The image of him kissing Renata flashed in Vika's mind. "It was your move."

"I was waiting for inspiration. But then Pasha changed the Game, and I had to hold on to my turn." Nikolai clawed distractedly at the collar of his shirt, where the brand must have been searing into his skin. "But what I wanted to say, and did not get a chance to, was that I am sorry to hear about your father's pa.s.sing."

Vika was dizzy with the conversation. Nikolai hadn't even mentioned that she'd destroyed all his possessions. Were they enemies fighting a duel? Or were they friends making up for lost time? She didn't know whether to protect herself or open up to him. "Um, thank you. But it turns out Sergei was not my father."

"Oh . . . I'm sorry . . . that must have been quite a shock."

Shock is a mighty understatement.

Nikolai scuffed the heel of his boot on the gravel. "My father also died recently. Although I didn't know he was my father until after his death. Nearly the mirror opposite of your experience."

Vika blinked at Nikolai. "Oh. That's terrible. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I hardly knew him. But thank you." He looked at her and held her eyes. Vika thought she saw a flicker in his, a shape like a golden eagle, like an echo of their time together on the dream steppe. But then Nikolai looked down at his knife, and the memory of their shared moment evaporated into tense air.

The dagger gleamed. "I don't want to do this," he said.

"Then don't."

"It's the only way."

Vika jerked back to the reality of the Game. She checked her shields, and she began to pace along Candlestick Point, so as not to be too easy a target in a single static s.p.a.ce. Who knew what that knife was capable of? Sergei's simple leather bracelet had been enough to drain his life. Surely Galina's gift would be equally as powerful, and likely much more vicious.

But Nikolai did not move to aim it at Vika.

"There's one more thing," he said.

"Yes?" Vika forced herself to continue walking. If only he would hurry and make his move. If he was going to kill her, she wanted him to end it now, before her own dread choked her.

"I love you," he said.

"What?"

He smiled sadly. "I was lost from the moment I saw you on Ovchinin Island. It took a long while for me to realize it, but it's true. I've spent my entire life scrambling to fit in and to change myself, Vika, but where I've belonged, and who I needed to be, has been right here the whole time. I love you."

Vika stood in one place, no longer pacing. "But . . . but you kissed Renata."