From the Ashes of Victory: The Complete Series, page 207
part #0 of From the Ashes of Victory Series
Kiska smiled, letting her hand continue to be ministered to. "You are certainly not the woman I met. She likely would have assumed 'pillow talk' to involve the weighing of goose feathers."
A snort burst from Victoria before she knew it was coming, and she reddened at such a vulgar display in such intimate circumstances. But she needn't have worried, they were well beyond the stage of needing to impress the other or remain atop eggshells that were long since dust. "She certainly would have. I know better, now."
"And you're good at it," Kiska said.
"You already have me, my light, there's no need for flattery. I say what comes to mind when we are alone together."
Kiska shifted and so did the shadows, banished to reveal more of her in the moonlight. Victoria shivered at her fortune. "Then by all means, keep talking. And looking."
Victoria laid a kiss on one of the new highlights, and Kiska let out a little noise that was the closest thing Victoria had ever experienced to a drug. As with many drugs, it emboldened her and loosened her tongue, amplified by her earlier magical successes. "With this… solidification of ourselves, and this journey half over, I have been giving extra thought to what life might look like when we are back home again. The future you and I have so often opined upon."
The Firebird was more a lithe cat, purring and stretching as she was preened and primped. "What kind of thoughts?"
Decadent flesh warmed Victoria's lips. "Have you ever given any consideration to marriage?"
The breath below her chin stopped, and she felt eyes on her. Looking up confirmed it.
"Marriage? Just in general? As a concept?"
"You tease to deflect, my light. You know what I intended with the question," Victoria said.
Kiska let out the breath she had been holding and settled into the mound of pillows. "Yes, on both counts. I… it's complicated. I don't know how I feel about it." Kiska shot Victoria a sudden look and cupped her cheek. "That isn't a referendum on you, Vityusha. I love you more than words can express."
Leaning into Kiska's touch, Victoria kissed her wrist and breathed deeply of more than roses. "And I you. Please continue. I asked because I wish to know."
The moonlight found Kiska's eyes. The depths from which it had come were nothing to the ones it revealed. "I never pictured it for myself. My feelings for men were always… fleeting, never lasting more than an evening, if that." She blinked. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't bring that up."
Victoria imbibed more of Kiska before meeting her eye. "I am not offended. You had a full, rich life before me. Continue, please."
It was a moment before she could, as reasons more profound welled up from much deeper places. "After seeing what my mother's death did to my father… he was never the same after the fire. I couldn't bear the idea of going through that myself, and I swore off the idea. Being bound heart and soul to another person willingly, knowing they could be taken away at any moment… then I met you and fell in love anyway. Desperately. Madly. Beyond hope or reason."
Kiska shifted, wiping at her eye. "If one of us were a man, I would marry you without question. But we are not, and we live in the world we do. As quickly as it's changing, that, I fear, may yet be a long way off. Which leaves Bonding." Kiska held out her arms. "Come closer, please. Hold me and be held."
Victoria did as she was bade and settled against her partner, bare skin against bare skin as Kiska nuzzled her face against Victoria's.
Kiska swallowed. "It… terrifies me, I won't lie. Watching my father die was a kind of pain I didn't know was survivable. The idea of feeling you… no, I won't say it."
"Die," Victoria said so Kiska wouldn't have to. "I, too, find the prospect deeply disturbing. Existentially so, sometimes."
"Yes," Kiska said. Warm tracks filtered through Victoria's hair. "I feel lesser for admitting it. That my love for you isn't strong enough to overcome my fear."
Victoria pulled away from Kiska's embrace enough to kiss away her tears. "Nothing could be further from the truth. It isn't something the human mind is equipped to handle. You are not lesser and you are not weak. I know how much I am loved. As much as I love you, my Kiska."
They were silent a long moment, only the distant drone of the engines adding any dimension to the world around them.
"So, yes, my Vityusha," Kiska said eventually, "I have thought about it. Enough that I won't say no. For all that Bonding scares me, the thought of you in my mind, sharing emotions, our magic, becoming as intimate as miracles can make two people… having with you what Millie and Elise share, a heart stone pulsing with your magic over my heart for the rest of my life… I find it achingly romantic. The kind they would perform operas about hundreds of years from now, with two witches in the audience hearing their story being told, dreaming of each other. Part of me wants that. Very much. Just not the part of me that knows what it feels like to lose it."
Victoria held Kiska a little tighter. Kiska had put far more thought into it than Victoria had, and she couldn't help the bubble of shame that welled up within her. Again, she had approached it as an abstraction, a puzzle to be worked out as though there was a correct answer awaiting her on the other side. Kiska's points were all valid and multifaceted, some of which hadn't even occurred to Victoria.
"I'm sorry, my shadow. You were probably expecting a more definitive answer to a question like that."
"No, my light. My only expectation was the truth, and that is precisely what I received. Thank you." Victoria kissed Kiska on the hollow between jaw and neck.
"Can I keep holding you?" Kiska asked.
"As long as you'd like."
Kiska laughed softly and kissed Victoria on top of the head. "Forever, then. No matter what labels we use."
When Katya had told Millie that she didn't know how she would feel upon returning to the land in which she'd been born, she had been even more right than she'd thought.
She didn't even know what to call it anymore.
Coming over the mountains from India, Juno had crossed the border without challenge into one of the most remote, desolate places on earth. For whatever lines on a map meant anymore, when Katya had fled the cooling corpse of the Russian Empire, the vast frozen desert below had been called Kazakhstan. Current maps had it labelled as 'Kazakh ASSR', but not for a single second had she accepted any of the name changes the Bolsheviks had attempted. She was from St. Petersburg, not Petrograd. The thought of referring to it as 'Leningrad' made her physically ill.
For how much longer she would have to maintain her stance remained to be seen—once (if) the Soviet Union was gone, who knew what anything would be called, let alone who would govern it. Things in Katya's homeland had deteriorated, according to the last update they'd received. Leadership of the country was currently 'unstable', but details beyond that were scant. The struggle for the soul of the nation was almost entirely contained west of the Ural mountains, however, which Juno was well east of. So as far as EVE's plans were concerned, Vita's window of opportunity was still open.
The ambivalence Katya felt about it threatened to tear her in half. Somewhere 2,000 miles to the northwest, Alex (or was it Anastasia again?) could very well be on the cusp of liberating their homeland, or dead in a ditch. If leadership was 'unstable', then the Soviets were having problems maintaining control, which was encouraging, but Katya knew only too well what it was like to be caught in the centre of such instability. And so did millions of others.
The true rub came from the fact that Katya could only accept the idea of the restoration of a Romanov because she knew Alex personally and loved her like a sister. That wasn't true of the average person on the street, who only knew the Romanovs as despotic tyrants who had instigated the suffering that had led to the revolution in the first place. The Bolsheviks were opportunistic thugs who'd revealed their true colours almost immediately; what did it say about them that even the idea of bringing back a Romanov might be preferable?
That was if reality fit the theory EVE had, at any rate. It was just as likely the people would choose to burn it all down and start over, though Katya doubted that had been Zoya's plan. News had been scarce enough while Katya was still in Britain with easy access to modern communications—on an airship somewhere southeast of the Aral Sea, they might as well have been waiting for someone to deliver it by horse.
Putting aside politics and lines on maps, the land they were flying over was starkly beautiful. Much as an ocean of water had seemed endless, so did this ocean of sand, the bitter cold adding an extra sharpness to the chill blue sky.
But no blue was as sharp or chill as the eyes of the woman at her side.
"How are you feeling, my light?" Vita asked.
"Conflicted," Katya replied. She turned to Vita, already bundled in leather and wool for her mission. In any other context, she would have made a winsome fighter pilot, but whatever romance flying may have held for Katya was still restricted to books. "You were right: it would seem the only reason we haven't been caught yet is that there's no-one out here to catch us. Since there's no way to know how long that will stay true, I would like to be away from here as soon as possible. Are we close enough you can you feel what you're looking for?"
Vita closed her eyes in focus. "Yes. It's quite obvious to me now, a beacon below ground."
"As long as it isn't a Siren." Katya's tone was part wonder and part concern, only she didn't know in what proportion.
"You needn't be jealous. Nor tie me to the mast. Whether you fill your ears with wax I leave to your discretion," Vita said with a hesitant little smile.
But Katya didn't return it. Crossing the border had stripped away whatever sense of adventure the exercise might have held. Now it was brutally practical and she just wanted it over with. "You know what I mean."
"Apologies. Yes, I do." Vita read Katya's mood and took her hands. "I cleared the entire continent of Australia in two sessions. With you at my side, I am no longer Odysseus. I am Perseus, tasked with the slaying of monsters."
"Medusa was a victim, not a monster," Katya responded.
"Athena, then? With you as my aegis?"
Katya couldn't bear to look Vita in the eye. She was so hopeful, so optimistic, riding a wave that Katya herself had helped build up, but all she could see was the trough at the bottom. "A shield is more Millie's line, but I accept. Remind me to find you some books about Slavic myths, you're saturated in the Greeks."
"Or you could tell me the stories yourself," Vita said.
"I always forget the details. Besides, your library could do with a little more colour. And volume." Katya took Vita's hand to lead her out of the lounge, but she stood pat.
"Are you encouraging me to acquire more books? The hold is swelling with them already."
"Consider it encouragement to finish this trip safely." Katya stumbled forward as the ship aggressively slowed. The slower it got, the more lethargic it responded, until they were stationary and it was nearly impossible to manoeuvre at all.
Platform or target, it was time to find out which they had just made themselves.
The moment Victoria dedicated true focus to the task before her, the scale of it threatened to overwhelm her. Not only were the Kazakh deposits the richest she had yet encountered, they were also the deepest. Though her experiments in Australia had been broad, they had not been terribly deep, and the idea of burrowing her consciousness over a mile into solid earth gave her pause. It wasn't ghosting, there was no danger of her physical body becoming fused with anything more than there was when she passed through air, but to push through that much earth would require more force than she had yet used in practice or in application. But if she was going to find a way to rid humanity of the atomic dragon, this was her best chance.
She shook every diamond she had constructed out onto the wooden tray.
"I will need more energy for this case," she explained to Katya and Elise as they helped her prepare. "If I am unable to regulate the heat output, be judicious in the opening of the vents. Too much hot air escaping into the envelope could throw off—"
"We remember, Vita. You just concentrate on what you need to do. Let us handle things here," Katya said. Though her eyes were unpainted, they again bore lines of perpetual concern that had been absent since France. Such an unconscious regression stabbed Victoria with needles of guilt, and redoubled her motivation to finish what she had come to do swiftly.
Whether circumstances would allow it remained to be seen.
"Of course. Apologies. Elise, would you deem me fit to make the attempt?" Victoria peeled back a glove enough to expose her wrist.
With a touch, Elise quickly made her determination. "Yes. Please use the same pace as Australia. If you push, you will become less efficient. Remain consistent."
Victoria nodded, flipping through her notes one more time. Ten years of training, honing her body and magic to work together instead of against each other, of consultation with Elise, fighting the fear of repeating Versailles or the Flying Circus, and it all came down to Victoria remaining true to herself: calm and methodical.
And partnered to the most extraordinary woman in the world. Katya turned Victoria's face up to hers. "You are not alone, my shadow. We are here for you."
Automatically, Victoria kissed her fingers. "I know, and I am grateful."
To confirm the depths of her concern, Katya sank to one knee and pressed her lips to Victoria's. The passion behind it took her aback and she nearly lost her balance. Only her gloves spared her hands from being imprinted with the pattern of the deck grating as they slammed down to steady her. Katya withdrew slowly and with deliberate intent to set Victoria's senses afire. She was entirely successful. "I wish you luck, my Raven."
As Victoria stared up into eyes of crystal blue, her purpose solidified. Whatever hypotheticals remained burned off into the aether, reduced to less than smoke by the heat of the Firebird. The love of Victoria's life, the one who had taught her that she could love, was all the reason she needed to act, and to do so safely.
"I love you, my light."
"And I you, my shadow."
With nothing left to say, all that remained was the work. With a final look at Kiska, Victoria settled into position and closed her eyes.
The world got very dark.
"Any word from the girls in the ba- er, aft?" Millie asked Captain Barrett as she stepped onto the bridge and handed out flasks of tea. She was bound and determined to be useful somehow while Vickie and Elise were working.
"The aft starboard engine is being a temperamental little sod, but they're working on it. I hate being stopped, but I can't pass up the chance for maintenance after that trip over the mountains. Of course that brings the usual complaints about working in gloves, but they said the same thing about coveralls in Australia. We'll pump them full of tea and soup when they come in and they'll be right as rain," Barrett said without pulling the binoculars from her face. "But you probably meant any sort of visitors. Do caribou qualify?"
"Not unless they can jump a lot higher than I think they can," Millie said.
Barrett laughed. "I'll keep an eye on them and report back. Until they figure it out, we'll hold position."
With the best eyes on the ship accounted for, Millie made her way back to the ears in the radio and navigation room with more tea. "Morning, ladies. Anything on the wireless?"
The radio operator, May, pulled one headphone off. "Suspiciously quiet, Miss Brown."
"Oh?" Millie couldn't remember if May was her given or surname, and it was too late to ask.
"Maybe it's just normal in this part of the world. I'm rotating frequencies, but there's nothing out there but loads of static. If anyone knows we're here, they aren't saying hello," May said.
The navigator's name was Whittaker. Millie had made a point to remember it since she was arguably the most important person on the ship. She pointed to charts covered in symbols more arcane than anything witches had ever come up with. "With the mountains behind us, anything we hear will be from the Russians."
"That works both ways, doesn't it?" Millie asked.
"Aye, ma'am. So it's best we not get into any trouble while we're just sitting here," Whittaker said with a grim bemusement in her eye.
With Millie's wife and oldest friend on board, she leaned into the grim part. "Then make sure we know it's coming, all right?"
"Aye, ma'am," May and Whittaker said together, and got back to work smartly, as if Millie had already left.
That was when the first wave of Vickie's power hit, swamping Kat's completely. Only the Bond kept her aware of Elise, while Vickie suddenly felt like she was everywhere at once, looming over all of existence. The sudden vertigo made Millie prop herself up on the doorframe to keep from losing her footing. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph."
The Bond thrummed with positivity to let her know everything was all right, which was almost scarier than if it wasn't. They had all feared Vickie weakening herself by using so much power so often, instead she was getting stronger. Elise was sitting right next to her, how had she not been knocked over?
Then again, Kat was back there, too. Vickie wouldn't have let anything happen to her as long as she was in control. Through the Bond, Millie had experienced two Manifests, and knew roughly what Elise's felt like when she was using it—a bit tingly, warm and strangely reassuring. Vickie's always felt like being dropped into a lake when it was active, and that was from the outside!
Millie clutched the heart stone to get a sense of what Elise was feeling, but there was nothing but her usual professional calm. She was working, and that was enough for Millie to drop the subject; intrusive thoughts, no matter how well-intentioned, would be little more than a distraction.
And until Vickie was done, that was something none of them could afford.
Katya wasn't supposed to touch Vita, no matter how badly she wanted to. Visually, she looked asleep, albeit sitting up. But since Vita could sleep standing up, that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the strange (and sadly familiar) feeling that Vita was much further away than arm's length. If Katya wanted to, she could reach out and brush Vita's cheek, but if she closed her eyes, she would have sworn Vita was… everywhere. Katya could barely feel Elise and she was only a few feet away; Millie might as well have been back at home. Feeling Vita on the other side of campus was one thing, or her faint presence as she ran errands in Longstown while Katya was working in the office, but this was something altogether different—even from Canada and Australia. "Tell me I'm not crazy. Has she gotten stronger?"
