From the Ashes of Victory: The Complete Series, page 184
part #0 of From the Ashes of Victory Series
"The hypothetical reaction can be guessed at, can it not, Mistress? Look here, I've plotted out the reactions Mistress Pretoria has demonstrated, ranked by dominant ingredient and medium. It's predictable."
Sophia flipped open a second notebook and turned it so that Victoria could see that she had, in fact, done precisely that.
"Was this your idea?"
"No, Mistress. Clara and I came up with it together. We started noticing patterns in Mistress Pretoria's demonstrations, and decided to plot them out to make sure we weren't biased or imagining things."
Victoria flicked her gaze to the young woman sat beside Sophia, her strawberry-blond cowlick bobbing as she started at the sudden attention. "Clara?"
"Yes, Mistress. Is it… is it on purpose, Mistress?"
It would do no good to give away the game yet, so Victoria swallowed her smile. Her pride she could do little to stem from leaking. Just a bit. "If it was, to what end, do you think?"
Emma piped up. She might have been slightly behind her study-group mates in raw talent, but she was certainly no slouch when it came to understanding people. "To lead us in a certain direction, at a certain pace. It seems a natural progression, Mistress."
"And you wish to disrupt it? Has it not occurred to you that our methods are the way they are for a reason? We've discussed this before," Victoria said.
"Not at all, Mistress," Emma replied. "What we want to create are more… predictions. Ones we can test when we become witches."
The subtle change in vocabulary was not lost on Victoria, though she chose not to vocalise it. Once upon a time it would have been 'if' they became witches. This was to say nothing about the blatantly scientific method of framing the contention, but Victoria couldn't be certain if it was to appeal to her or because of her.
Either way, she was more generous with her pride when she said, "Very good."
She allowed them their moment to bask in her approval, but followed it with a reminder that she was still the authority in the room. "You are free to theorise and speculate all you want, but you will present every one of your 'predictions' for approval by an instructor before you attempt anything magically. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress," all three said together.
"Your progress has been astonishing, but do not take the privilege of these private lessons as special dispensation. You are no more and no less bound by the rules of the conservatory, and of magic itself, than any other students. I will not have you harmed by either," Victoria said, looking each of the Crows in the eye as she did. Her gaze fell most heavily, and finally, on Sophia. "You have been afforded this opportunity because I trust you."
"Yes, Mistress," came the response, tinged with just enough humility that Victoria had no trouble believing it was genuine.
"Very well. Then that concludes the lesson for today. Sophia, a word, please?"
When the others had gone and the door to the library anteroom shut and locked, Victoria turned to EVE's most promising student. Her notes were still spread out, pencil at the ready.
Whatever topic the young woman had expected Victoria to broach was not the one that came out of her mouth. "Sophia, I am concerned about your rest habits. I do not wish to sound uncouth, but recently you have been looking worse for wear. Are you sleeping all right?"
Victoria already knew the answer thanks to Emma, but Sophia couldn't be allowed to know that. Such subterfuge did nothing to lessen the import of the response, however.
Sophia's hand self-consciously went to her just-unkempt-to-notice hair, but gave up when she recalled who she was talking to. "Is it that obvious, Mistress?"
"Enough to draw my concern. Mistress Pretoria says you are doing exceedingly well in your main lessons, but Mistress Millie has conveyed concerns about your physical fatigue. Would you care to talk about it?" Victoria asked.
"I've been working hard, Mistress. I guess too hard." Sophia tried to smile but failed, all the tell Victoria needed.
"We have discussed before the perils of rampant ambition, Sophia. You are not involved in a race. There are no win-"
"Winners. I know, Mistress, you needn't repeat yourself."
Victoria folded her hands just so and leaned forward, bringing every second of her experience and bearing to the fore. She didn't need so much as a whiff of the Raven to get Sophia to look away first.
"I'm sorry, Mistress."
"Provisionally accepted, provided you explain," Victoria said.
The sigh that rolled out of Sophia was enough to send the pages of her notebooks fluttering. Tired and resigned, what her lungs couldn't purge remained in her eyes, leaving them drained of colour. "I don't want to win, Mistress, but I do want to be first. I need to be."
A contradiction, or perhaps not, Victoria relaxed her posture and gave Sophia her space. "Why is that?"
"So I can help the others. Clara and Emma work so hard, Mistress, so do all of the other students. But until we see one of us make a witchlight, it will always feel far away, if not impossible. When we first arrived, Mistress Niamh, God rest her soul, made an example of me and it worked. I want to be an example again, Mistress. To make it easier for those who follow."
Though Victoria often self-deprecatingly remarked that she didn't have a heart, such a statement made her little more than a liar. She saw so much of herself in Sophia so often, but moments like these reminded her that Sophia was in fact better than Victoria had been at her age. "That is incredibly noble. And I am ashamed to not have accounted for the possibility."
Sophia glanced up into the pause. "But?"
"But, it is no less dangerous to your health." Victoria crossed her legs and tented her fingers just under her nose. "Do you know, when I first arrived at EVE, I was much the same as you. Driven, entirely dedicated to my studies, up at all hours, drinking more coffee than water to make up for it. It was just after the war, and I was mentally… unwell. Not sleeping made it worse. I was already Manifested then, but such habits took their toll regardless. If you continue to push this hard, you will, as I did, reach a break point that will shatter you. And you may not be the same afterward."
Nor those around you, Victoria didn't add. She couldn't. Not yet. She was still Sophia's instructor, not her peer, and that distance needed to remain sacrosanct. Some day, she might tell Sophia that she had almost killed Millie and Elise by losing control of her magic and that she'd needed to be put in a two-day coma to recover her mental faculties, but for now Victoria could put the gravity of that incident into her plea: "Learn from my mistakes, Sophia. Creating a witchlight, catalysing recipes… they take focus. Concentration. Attributes an addled mind loses first. Magic cannot be forced. You are an exceptional student, you needn't endanger yourself unnecessarily. You will be a witch, and I suspect, a very good one. We introduced you to so many elders for a reason: we're proud of you, and have high hopes."
Shining life returned to Sophia's eyes, their deep brown hue richening as she sat up a little straighter. "Thank you, Mistress."
"Emma and Clara are lucky to have a friend as thoughtful and dedicated as you. Don't burden them with having to pick up the pieces if you break yourself on their behalf. Think of them and yourself."
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. I will."
Victoria smiled. "Of that, I have no doubt."
Which only left the task of Victoria learning to follow her own advice. Some day, she would work out how, but in the meantime there was still far too much to do.
By mid-afternoon, Katya had got more done than she had honestly expected, but it had come at a cost. Buoyed by Vita's thoughtfulness, Katya had cracked on through the letters on her desk with determination instead of trepidation and had been left a wrung-out husk.
After the emotional battering of the last few weeks, she hadn't been prepared to absorb the amount of support that had poured into her over the course of the morning through one correspondence after another.
News of Niamh's death had spread what felt like instantaneously through the witch community, and the nature of how and why right along with it. Already notorious, she was now a legend, and had done as much with her sacrifice as Helga had with her fearless declarations in galvanising witches all over Europe to stand up and be heard. To demand it.
To follow in their footsteps.
Katya and Vita, now Helga and Niamh, symbols of empowerment and self-determination that were shaking the status quo to its foundations.
The only thing said about the fire was thank you. Though the sentiment was genuine and meant to apply to the preservation of the evidence of Nazi atrocities committed against witches, it left Katya a disorientating combination of ill and gratified to know that it could have just as easily been about burning Adolf Hitler and the entire Nazi leadership alive.
When the outpouring of love to EVE became overwhelming, Katya had to stop reading. She was still coming to terms with what happened. Though she had vowed to live her life to its fullest, the jumble of feelings tromping between her heart and mind were keeping her from finding her balance. She would never un-hear the sound Niamh made when she was shot, nor un-see the light fading from her eyes. The blood, the screams…
The fire. The rage—
With a violent shake of her head, Katya bolted to her feet and went to the window. Life went on as always beyond it, with a handful of students taking advantage of the weather to study outside. All of them were in groups. Before her eyes, there were Covens forming, she knew in her bones. Bonds of sisterhood and friendship that would last for centuries. For lifetimes.
Beginnings, not endings, were where Katya needed her focus, and as if to help her do exactly that, the greatest beginning of her entire life walked in.
"I'm sorry to be so late in returning. How are you feeling?" Vita asked as she dumped her bag beside her desk and made her way directly to Katya's side.
"Much better, thanks to you." Katya threw her arms around her partner and held her close. Her presence, both physical and magical, solidified every part of Katya that had been shaken loose, and she sighed in relief. "Your gifts were very thoughtful."
"The results were satisfactory, then?" Vita asked, indicating the empty glass on Katya's desk.
"Very much so, thank you. Though I believe the word you want for coffee beans is 'grind', not 'pulverise'."
"I didn't grind them, there was no mechanical friction involved. I reduced them to fine grains via—"
Katya placed a single finger on Vita's lips. "Some day, I want to go out to a lovely riverside cafe so I can make eyes at you in public over the rim of something expensive, Italian and very black. That will not go well if you're going to insist on pulverised coffee beans. The verb you want is 'grind'. Trust me."
"But the aromatics—"
"Vityusha."
Sharp blue diamonds searched Katya's features, and quickly softened at what they saw. "Very well."
"Thank you," Katya said, and rewarded Vita with a kiss. "By the way, how did you get the letter to smell like peppermint? The oil usually leaves a stain on paper."
"I infused it into the ink in a low enough concentration so as not to bleed. I thought you might like it."
Katya's heart did more alarming things. "I did. Very much. But why did you sign it with 'V.R.'? I could work out which 'V.' it was, you know."
"Force of habit, I suppose. I will endeavour to do better in future."
Threading her fingers through Vita's, Katya brought her hand to her cheek and held it there. "Not what I meant. I just thought it was cute. Don't change anything."
Watching Vita's gears turn was one of Katya's favourite pastimes. Watching them seize up was a rare treat. "Cute?"
"Yes, my shadow, even you." Katya kissed Vita on the tip of her nose. "Sometimes. But this is our office, and we should be doing office things. Have you brought any?"
It took an extra beat for Vita to cobble her thoughts back together, and a lingering look before she turned to retrieve her bag. She rummaged inside and produced a letter. "An interview request for you."
Katya took it and saw that it was from a German-language outlet based in London. She tossed it on the floor. "I don't want to talk about Germany anymore."
With a flick of magic, Vita retrieved the letter. "It could do some good. The elections are next month, Helga could—"
"I don't want to! I'm tired of talking about it! Niamh and 16 other people were murdered in cold blood and I burned down a castle with my mind, killing 34 more. Oh, oops, I can't say that part! Sorry, I very truly and altruistically exposed the crimes of monsters and stopped even more bloodshed by putting out a fire I in no way started."
"Aside from starting the fire, you did do those things," Vita said.
"No, I burned every one of those bastards alive because they deserved it. I unleashed the Firebird out of pure rage and hate and I liked it. Put that in a fucking headline." Katya spun away back to the window again. Hugging herself tightly, she wasn't strong enough to keep her chest from heaving or the tears from coming. They dripped onto the backs of her wrists, a steady rain from a bright blue sky.
So lost in her own morass, she started when she felt Vita slip her arms around her waist and settle her head between her shoulder blades. She clasped her hands over Katya's and held them. Her magic rose, the bottomless well of the Raven's cold, insulating power enveloping them both.
Within its depths, Katya felt safe and her breath began to steady, her blood cooling. "I'm sorry I swore."
Vita's head shook against Katya's back. "You may use whatever language you wish in my presence. It's the sentiment that makes me not want to let you go."
It was also the reason Katya hadn't left the campus since getting home. Why she had only pushed cold, inanimate papers around rather than look any of the students in the eye. Why she had retreated.
"It's so hard, Vityusha. I can't make sense of it, except when I can, and then I don't like what I find when I do. Because I didn't just kill them out of mindless hate." Katya squeezed her partner's hand. "Nearly dying made me finally admit to myself that I love you, and nothing was going to keep me from telling you. Anyone standing between us was going to burn that night. And they did." Another breath passed, Vita's chest pressing against Katya's back. She was so solid, so present, the strength that gave Katya's deepest-held thoughts the energy to climb out of her mouth. "Do you know the worst part? I would do it again."
Katya swallowed. The idea that Vita might have contributed indirectly to the deaths of eleven men had been partly responsible for her suicide attempt, and Katya had just admitted that she would gladly kill 34 herself. Again. She tensed against a scathing rebuke for such callous arrogance, but all she got was thoughtful silence.
When it broke, Katya nearly did, as well.
"Your power and position are unique in all of history, Kiska. You should allow yourself some grace for briefly losing your way on a path that has never been charted before."
Katya shook her head, held Vita's hands a little tighter. "You were right. About control. I lost it."
"I will not shed a single tear for Adolf Hitler dying a painful death, nor the hateful cult that went with him."
"But it could happen again! What if it's not a castle full of people who deserve it, but a crowded marketplace full of innocents? What if another Walter Huxley comes along and I liquify him in front of a child? The girls? I can't—"
"You can. You will. It happened once, under the most dire of circumstances."
"When they shot at us in the cabs, I was ready to incinerate the entire block…"
"But you didn't."
"Only because Millie and Niamh stopped me."
"Because you weren't alone, Kiska. You aren't alone. You mustn't believe your darkest thoughts. The worst case is not the only case, nor is it even the most likely. After such an experience, you must learn to trust yourself again. To trust me when I say you are not an impulsive monster. You are a witch with a bruised heart—as we all are." Vita lifted away from Katya's back, leaving a sudden void that made her shiver. "Look at me, my light. Please."
Katya turned. The sun cast half of Vita's face in bright relief of the other half in shadow.
"I will not patronise you by asking if you trust my judgment. I know you do. And it will take time to overcome the guilt, the self-blame. I know because you taught me that. When I was where you are now, you were there for me. You helped me, listened, stood me back up when I had fallen so far and so hard. I am here for you, Kiska. I will always be here for you. You are strong, and have weathered this storm before. It will pass." Vita took both of Katya's hands, running her thumbs gently over the backs. "I don't judge you for what you did. I was not there. The anguish that claimed Elise was genuine, and I trust the accounts of you and our sisters to be truthful. I need no more than that. In my eyes you are absolved of any guilt; burden yourself no longer."
The next tears fell into Vita's hair as they pulled each other close, and Katya let herself cry fully in her partner's embrace. Lungfuls of repressed sorrow poured out of her along with tortured confusion and denial until she finally felt as close to unburdened as she had in weeks. As the tears ebbed, she continued to hold Vita, unwilling to give up her warmth or her presence. Even her soft, sleek hair between Katya's fingers was a connection that stirred her soul and made the challenges before her not only faceable, but conquerable.
"My Vityusha. How did I live without you?" Katya said eventually, more than aware of the warm wetness that had seeped into her blouse from Vita's cheek.
"What matters is how we live together now. And I mean that literally."
Though loathe to let Vita go, Katya's intrigue won out. Then the slow dawn of realisation made her reach for her tissues; she was going to need to see clearly. "Are they done?"
Keeping one hand occupied with Katya's, Vita summoned several rolled sheets of paper directly out of the side of her bag while clearing space on her desk for them simultaneously. When they were laid out flat, it took only a moment for Katya to get her bearings, but when she did, the blueprints showed her exactly what she had wanted to see.
