Page 40 of Blazing Embers

He pours, steady, but doesn’t look at me. When I finally pick up the glass again, I lean forward, elbows on the desk, my fingers are wrapped around the base of the tumbler. My voice is low and acidic, “When did you betray me?”

His eyes snap up. They’re dead calm. His face doesn’t twitch. Doesn’t blink. Just sits there like a stone carving of himself. “I can’t answer that,” he says.

“Just say it,” I hiss. “And then tell me why you would do it.”

He shakes his head, just once. “It’s all in there.” He nods at the envelope, glass tilting in his hand. “Answers to both of your questions.”

I want to lunge across the table and throttle him. My teeth grind together.

“Why not just tell me?” I say. “Instead of leaving me breadcrumbs like a child?”

“It’s all in there,” he says. “Answers to your questions.”

“Then just tell me why you can’t fucking tell me, instead of sitting there like a stone statue filled with secrets.”

He considers this. “I swore an oath,” he says, his voice flat. “And if I answer you, I’m not the only one that has failed this test. You see, the moment I opened a similar envelope years ago, I started your trial by fire and became part of it. I answer anything or tell you anything, you will forfeit the title of the Dragunov and Agafan will stay acting village elder until your heir becomes of age.”

He gulps down the vodka.

“Fuck. Sorry that was insensitive of me.”

He’s talking about the fact that my wife is now sterile and will never produce an heir for me. My stomach knots. Fuck, I don’t want to use her as a breeding tool. I did want to know, however, that we would have children. I can only imagine how Tara mustbe feeling. I saw her face on that video the day of her alleged miscarriage back in Nevada. She was more than distraught.

I ignore the comment about heirs. “So you took an oath to lie to me?” A laugh bubbles up in my chest, bitter and hot. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He lifts a shoulder. “You opened the envelope. You’ve started your trial by fire and trust me, it’s not called that for nothing.”

“I know that. I never expected it to be.” I lean back in my chair, the glass heavy in my palm. I let the burn of the vodka pin me to the present. “Who made you take that oath?” I ask. “Or can you not say that either?”

“That I can tell you. The Dragunov High Council.”

“That council doesn’t exist anymore.”

Silence sprawls between us. I watch the play of shadows across his jaw. Finally he tilts his head, that calculating look he gets when he’s laying a trap with words.

“Only if you believe what you see. That’s how they’ve survived. Ifyouthink the Dragunov Guard, the Council, the underground network… no longer exist, then neither will your enemies. You can’t fight what you can’t find or don’t know about.” He takes another swig of vodka. “After watching your great-grandfather get executed, your grandfather was much like you. Fueled with rage and a thirst for revenge and to save his family’s legacy. Only your grandfather was not a reactive man. Like you always have, your enemies have always taken that for him being passive. And trust me, your grandfather was far from a passive man. Just because he didn’t go to war didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting it.” He drains his glass. “Your grandfather played the long gameto ensure when the next Dragunov heir arose the groundwork would be laid.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” I look at him in disbelief. “We’re talking about the same man that walked around in white robes like Yoda or a bleached monk, spreading kindness like one of those Gummy bear creatures my sisters used to watch on TV.”

“I always told you that you were underestimating your grandfather.” Konstantin stretches out his long legs. “Think about this…” He tilts his head. “You were totally unaware of what was happening right beneath your nose. And if you or your sisters or even any of the villagers didn’t know…”

“I get it.” My words snap from my lips as anger hits me lightning. I drag the vodka down my throat. It hits like fury. Burns straight down to the hollow in my chest. “So while I’ve been crawling out of the fucking rubble of my family’s legacy, thinking I’m doing this alone, they’ve just been watching me? Humoring me. Letting me play at taking back what was stolen from us while they’ve been undermining me?”

Konstantin shakes his head. “I don’t think they were undermining you. I think they were supporting you.”

His words settle like glass in my gut.

I slam the glass down on the desk. “They could’ve told me. Fuck, theyshould’vetold me.”

“No,” he says, calm. Too calm. “Your grandfather became rather paranoid after watching his father being executed by his best friend. I guess that drove him to restructure the trial by fire for the Dragunov, his right hand man, new council, and secret bodyguards.”

“Bodyguards?” I snort. “Are you sure you haven’t gotten into some whacky mushrooms? He wouldn’t have guards in case it made the Mirochins antsy.”

“I can tell you honestly that your grandfather had shadow guards.” Konstantin splashes more vodka into his glass and fills up mine.

I stare at Konstantin. My brother, my cousin, and my best friend. The man who’s been beside me since we were boys sneaking onto the fishing boats and stealing our fathers premium vodka. The man who held me up when my world collapsed and didn’t fucking flinch.

“How many sit on this council?”

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