“Not that I can tell. No opals or signs of sorcery.”
Without any other words between them, Geist motioned forward. The group stayed close together as they advanced on the strange device placed between the rails. Geist took note of the silence.
The Bolshevik revolutionaries must’ve planted this here, she reasoned. But where have they gone? Back to the forest?
Vergess stepped over the rail and walked up to the metal device strapped to the track. Geist recognized two aircraft bombs strapped together. They were no longer than an adult arm and only as thick as a person’s neck, but they could do a considerable amount of damage when dropped by fighter pilots. All markings had been scratched off, but Geist suspected they were Russian.
“The Bolsheviks would do something like this to their own countrymen?” Battery asked. “I didn’t know the Russian Empire was in such turmoil.”
Varnish grunted but otherwise didn’t respond.
“Vergess,” Geist said. “Destroy them.”
He nodded and then knelt down. With a simple graze of his fingertips, the bomb shells rotted away before their eyes, seemingly trapped in a bubble of rapidly accelerated time. The metal rusted, decayed, and turned to flakes. The rot spread to every inch of the shell, destroying the weapons in a matter of seconds.
Runia sorcery had its uses.
“What else should we do?” Battery asked.
Varnish shrugged. “So I’m the only one who lives if I walk around here, is that it?”
That was what Victory had implied. And he was never wrong. But why could Varnish traverse the unknown? Was he working for the enemy as a double agent? Or would he even investigate at all if she sent him? What other explanations could there be?
Vergess and Battery stared at the man with suspicion. Varnish answered them with a huff and straightened the belt around his waist.
“Vhat? It’s probably because I can speak vith my countrymen and you Englishmen can’t.”
The single suggestion got Geist chuckling. Of course, she thought. That’s logical. He could prevent a fight by explaining the situation.
Geist waved her hand toward the forest. “Varnish, you investigate. Come back within five minutes. Vergess, you check the rails for a bit up the track. Make sure nothing else is there. Battery, you’re with me.”
The others nodded.
Before they headed off, Geist added, “Wait—what if one of us runs into the Eyes of the Kaiser? We should have a word or phrase we can give each other for safety.”
Vergess shook his head. “People tend to act out their dominated commands with a single-minded focus. I’ve seen it hundreds of times when I trained with Hans and Otto. We’ll know if they’re dominated because they’ll shamble back into the group and ignore any attempt to sway them off the course they’re on.”
“Still… I would feel safer knowing we had a phrase. Just in case. Why not the word beachfront? We’ll say it to each other when we meet back up.”
Again, the others nodded in agreement.
Geist used her sorcery to become invisible and watched from her incorporeal state as the others did as she commanded. Varnish headed off into the distant fog, his breath leaving a noticeable trail. For a moment, Geist wondered if she could follow him in her invisible state.
No. Victory said only Varnish wouldn’t be harmed. I should wait until he reports back.
Vergess searched the tracks, disappearing into the fog for only a few seconds and then returning a moment later. He remained tense, his eyes searching the area with an intensity that Geist had only ever seen in battle.
Battery held up his Lancaster when Vergess drew near.
“Beachfront,” Vergess snapped. “I was close enough you could’ve heard the commands the enemy would’ve issued me.” He backhanded Battery’s shoulder and shook his head.
Battery huffed as he lowered his weapon. “Safety is important.”
“Heh.” Vergess glanced around. “Keep your eyes open. People were here recently. At least two.”
“How can you tell?”
“I can smell them. I can also smell blood… but I don’t see it.”
“Maybe someone killed to get those aircraft bombs.”
“Perhaps.”
The more Geist knew about the situation, the more she wanted her entire squad with her. Victory is never wrong, she assured herself. Everything will be fine. Nothing here will get us. We’ll be returning to our trek in no time.
“W-well,” Battery muttered, his teeth clattering. “What if I empowered Vergess instead? Maybe he c-could use his bloodhound skills and find something.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. Enhanced apex sorcery would be useful.
But she didn’t want to risk losing contact with Victory. Half the reason she left him behind was to make sure he wouldn’t be in harm’s way. What if the Eyes of the Kaiser had taken him over? They would use his future-sight for their devious plans. She couldn’t risk him out in the open when they didn’t know their surroundings.
“Don’t,” Geist said. “We’ll wait for Varnish.”
The two nodded and ended the conversation.
Four minutes passed. The longer they remained standing in place, the more the warmth left Geist’s body. By the time she spotted Varnish exiting the fog, she realized she couldn’t feel her fingers. And Varnish took his sweet time ambling over, glancing around as he went.
The moment he drew near, he said, “Beachfront.”
Battery exhaled. “C-could you have been any slower?”
Varnish shrugged.
“So? Did you see anything?”
“Nothing. Ve’re alone.”
Odd.
Geist turned in a complete circle. No one was here? But then why had Victory warned about only sending Varnish? Shouldn’t he have seen someone?
“Let’s head back to the train,” she muttered. “If there’s nothing on the tracks and no one here, we should be on our way.”
They headed back to the train, loaded into the boxcar, and informed the operator they had cleared away the dangers. Once the train started back up, Geist settled in for another long ride.
Eleven
Dangers in Petrograd
Geist awoke with a jerk of her leg. In an instant, she was standing, the rumbling of the boxcar just confusing enough that she stood froze for a long moment to take everything in. The others slept in sitting positions, some with their heads down, other with their caps over their faces. Geist ran a hand down her face and cleared away the sweat.
Her head hurt.
It had hurt for a while, ever since Vergess clocked her straight across the chin. She had figured it was the blow that left her dazed, but something didn’t feel right about the current throbbing.
Dreamer stirred from his sleep. He stretched, took in a deep breath, and then glanced in her direction. In her groggy state, Geist found herself obsessing about his appearance. He wore illusions to hide his true nature as an Arab Crow, even going so far as to wear pale skin, blue eyes, and blond hair.
“You can sleep without breaking your illusions?” she whispered.
The thought had never occurred to her—since it was easy to forget he even swaddled himself in illusions—but sorcerers had to concentrate to use their magic. How could he focus while asleep? It was impossible!
Dreamer brushed off his tunic. “You can master a sorcery to the point it becomes a process the body does for you. Like breathing. I need to focus to remove my illusions, or if I’m injured, then they drop. But otherwise, I have sustained it long enough to keep indefinitely.”
“I see…”
She had never heard of such a level of mastery. Maybe if I weren’t focusing on learning a second sorcery, I could’ve kept my invisibility going without thought. The advantages of maintaining stealth, even while asleep, intrigued her, but did it beat improved physical prowess? The pros and cons only added to her headache.
The clacking of the train slowed. The change in speed woke everyone else.
Vergess
groaned as he rolled from his side. “It’s like my headache intensified the longer we went.”
“Same,” Blick responded. He stood and rubbed at his temples. “I don’t feel right.”
Vergess took a moment getting to his feet, his eyes squinted shut. Heinrich didn’t complain like the others. He brushed himself off and stood near the boxcar wall, not a peep out of him.
As the train came to a gradual stop, her team readied themselves by the car door. The moment they stopped, Vergess pulled it open, allowing the early evening winds to slap them all into full wakefulness.
With a shiver, Geist jumped onto the platform. Bells rang, men shouted, and horses pulling carts of supplies added to the cacophony of the train station. Packed snow and icy walkways made everything slippery, but that didn’t slow anyone. Russian soldiers rushed to unload the boxcar, some of which barked out questions.
Varnish stepped in and barked answers, his anger enough to startle the soldiers into backing down. Geist allowed him to handle the situation as she followed Victory to the gates. The moment they were even slightly separated from the others, he placed his good hand on her shoulder and leaned in close.
“Something is wrong,” Victory muttered. “Everyone is ill.”
“What do you mean?”
Her head hurt—more than before—but that wasn’t the same as sickness of the gut or lungs. None of the others coughed, none of them pissed more than usual, and they ate fine. Perhaps it had been the alcohol?
Geist shook her head. No. Blick and Vergess both complained about their head hurting before we arrived at House Kott. This isn’t new.
“I think this may be sorcery,” Victory said.
“Why?”
“Heinrich is the only one of us who nullifies sorcery, and he’s the only one without symptoms. I would bet my life this was magical.”
“Okay. But then who is doing it?”
“Maybe our enemy has been targeting us,” Victory said with a shrug.
“But we’ve been suffering from it since we’ve entered the Russian Empire,” Geist replied. “Long before our enemy knew we were here.”
This isn’t them. It’s something else…
“It’s been much harder to see anything with my sorcery,” Victory muttered. “If this continues, I don’t know how much help I’m going to be.”
But should she dedicate time to the mystery illness? They didn’t have the luxury of costly experiments or recovery. They had already been delayed twice with their train ride to Petrograd. What were her other options?
Battery hustled to her side, stepping between her and Victory. “Are you discussing the plan? The others want to know where we’re heading.”
“The Winter Palace,” Geist said. “That’s the home of the Royal House Romanov. We’ll head there at once.”
“Even though it’s the evening?”
“Our information is too important to wait for morning.”
Battery rubbed at his neck. “But we’re dealing with a Royal House. You know how they can be.”
“Appearances sometimes trump common sense,” Victory muttered.
Geist immediately thought of her ex-fiancé—Prince Leopold of the Royal House Habsburg-Lorraine. His ego demanded everyone genuflect before any proper conversations could be had. Why must these spoiled monarchs be so detached from reality? We don’t have time to adhere to formalities!
“We’ll risk upsetting them,” she said.
She exited the train station courtyard and walked past the gate guards to enter the city proper. The main road through Petrograd, wide enough to accommodate four carriages if they rode side by side, was clogged with people and animals. One glance revealed the popular trends of the region: thick mustaches and newsy caps. Geist had a hard time differentiating one man from another, as everyone fought the cold with a long black or brown jacket that went to their ankles. If a woman had her collar up high enough, Geist couldn’t differentiate them, either.
Wind rushed along the road like it had somewhere to be. Snow came down by the boat load, covering everything in a foot of ivory. The horses snorted and shivered, but the Russian denizens shrugged off the chill with a scowl.
Vergess, Blick, Dreamer, Heinrich, and Varnish caught up as a group.
“Take us to the Winter Palace,” Geist said as she tapped Varnish on the arm.
He jerked away from her touch. “I spoke to the soldiers at the gate. The Vinter Palace has been converted into a hospice for vounded soldiers. Tsar Nicolas has moved his family to Alexander Palace.”
Damn. “Where is Alexander Palace?”
“Near Tsarskoye Selo,” Varnish said. “Ve can take a passenger train there, but it’s almost an hour’s travel, and I’ll have to secure tickets first.”
The icy air burned her nose. Geist shivered. “Is there a beer hall we can stay in while you arrange accommodations?”
“All of the Russian Empire is under prohibition. The beer halls are closed.”
Goddammit. “Any place, then,” Geist said, holding back all number of curse words. “Anything to get out of this blasted weather!”
“I d-didn’t know the world c-could get so c-cold,” Dreamer said, his teeth chattering nonstop.
Varnish glanced around. “I can take you to a dining hall for soldiers.”
“Do it,” Geist snapped.
Without another word, Varnish took off down the road and the group followed behind, careful not to get lost in the sea of bodies. Although they were dressed different, wearing the uniform of their respective homelands, the Russian citizens paid them little attention. Most were rushing to get into long lines—lines that extended down four blocks—and others were shouting and holding signs. Unrest filled the air.
A pack of three children ran up to Geist and held their bluish hands out.
“Rubles,” they each said. “Rubles.”
Geist motioned them away. “I have nothing for you.”
The children spat out words and kicked up snow.
Battery reached into his backpack and withdrew two cans of bully beef—meat that had been brined and boiled to near flavorless conditions. He handed them to the children, who snatched them away and ran off without another word.
“Those were meant to be emergency rations,” Geist said.
“I packed extra,” Battery replied. “And I couldn’t stand to think of them not eating.” He rubbed at his arms and kept his scarf tight around his neck.
Varnish led them past dozens of four-story buildings, each built right next to the other, only allowing a few inches of space between. The windows had Russian words written across them in white paint. Geist kept an eye out for street signs, but most had been ripped down.
When they finally reached their destination, Varnish had to yell at the guards blocking the front door. The Russian soldiers had their rifles held tight and shouted at anyone who got near. Once Varnish convinced them to let everyone in, they gave Geist and her team odd glances but otherwise remained silent.
Geist entered the building after Varnish and traveled down a dark hall until she entered a dining room with a dozen long tables. At least fifty Russian soldiers sat around eating beetroot borscht and puff-pastry pirozhki. The sour smell of the borscht didn’t help Geist’s headache. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, hoping to find a corner of the room where the scent would be weaker.
“M-much better,” Dreamer said with a sigh of relief.
A fire raged in a gargantuan fire pit near the back of the room. That, coupled with the many bodies, almost made the place too warm. Geist didn’t care. It was better than the snow outside.
“Wait here,” Varnish commanded. He turned and left before Geist could even acknowledge his statement.
The dining hall seemed a safe place to rest while they made arrangements for the last bit of their trek.
Two hours of waiting and the night brought with it another foot of snow.
Did acquiring train tickets really require two hours? One more and Geist had ever
y intention of going out to search for him.
In the meantime, she sat next to a window, watching the last citizens of Petrograd rush down the road, despite the terrible hour. The people waiting in lines eventually got bread, but those who didn’t make it before sundown were denied. The fights that broke out afterward lasted an hour before the soldiers got involved.
While Geist couldn’t speak Russian, the Russian soldiers in the dining hall still insisted on talking. Several walked over and struck up conversations that no one could understand. They pointed to Victory’s injured arm and then a gnarled scar on one of the infantry gunners, and the Russian all had a good laugh. Victory and Dreamer managed to continue the “conversation” through pointing and laughing and even mimicking scenes of a fight, but Geist couldn’t bring herself to socialize.
Blick, Heinrich, and Vergess sat around her, each looking more miserable than the last.
“We should’ve saved some of that whiskey,” Blick muttered.
“We should’ve brought lice powder,” Heinrich quipped.
The door to the dining hall opened. Varnish pushed his way in, a long jacket wrapped around his uniform. He brushed the snow out of his mustache and walked over to Geist.
She stood and placed her hand on her pistol. “Varnish?”
“Beachfront,” he said.
Blick and Heinrich exchanged puzzled glances.
“The trains haven’t been running properly,” Varnish continued. “I think I have transport, but it might be suspicious. I vas hoping you vould investigate.”
Even he was on edge?
Geist exhaled and stared at the floor. She didn’t like the idea of traveling out in the cold, but if there was no other option, she wouldn’t complain.
“All right,” she said. Then she turned to Battery. “You’re with me. First, empower Blick, but if anything happens while we’re out, I’m going to need your help.”
Battery nodded. “Of course.”
“Allow me to accompany you,” Heinrich said as he stood. “I would like to visit the Winter Palace, if at all possible. I have messages to relay to individuals who were supposed to be stationed there. I suspect they left with the tsar, but just in case.”
A Company of Monsters (The Sorcerers of Verdun Book 2) Page 10
