Alexei was in heaven.

He had been practically climbing up his uncle’s broad back and peering about, trying to absorb everything at once from the moment they had passed through familiar lands. He’d spent the first few hours of the trip pestering his uncle about where he’d been and what he’d seen. Trey had taken it all in stride, painting verbal scenes that left the young prince wide eyed and practically trembling with anticipation.

Ivan had been forced to hide his smile behind an upraised hand. It never ceased to amaze him how Trey could take only a few days trip and turn it into an entire year’s worth of stories. They had long ago agreed to keep the truth of the situation from the young boy’s ears and though Trey spoke for well over two hours never once did he mention Libertine or the fae’s land where he was trapped for the nine months he was absent from their lives.

Finally Trey had run out of stories and had suggested they ride for a ways to forestall any more questions. The words had barely left his mouth before the young prince was trying to climb onto the foulest tempered beast they had brought. The ever-attentive Byely had dragged him off before he could get astride and deposited him on a gentler beast while his uncle pretended not to notice his indignity, which, Ivan supposed as he had watched Trey try to reacquaint himself with how to ride, he may not have noticed at all.

The reminder of the rusalki and her trickery brought a frown back to Ivan’s face and he turned away to stare out over the passing landscape. Even he wasn’t entirely sure of what went on during those months that forced his firebird out of his reach. Trey refused to speak of it and none of his cajoling or threatening had brought out the truth. All he knew was that a bargain had been struck between rusalki and firebird and his red haired lover intended to keep his secrets.

For the three months of summer Trey was free to go where he willed and do what he wished but at the turning of the seasons he had to go back. Ivan feared what the red haired man had given up in exchange for that brief freedom and his firebird’s silence on the subject worried him beyond measure. Trey had precious little to give up to begin with. What would a rusalki want for payment from a man that had nothing but himself?

What would be so desirable that she would give up her claim on him for a few months when she obviously had complete control over the man?

And complete control was what she had.

He had once refused to let Trey return at the end of his three months. The firebird had screamed and flung itself about the room, beating its frail body against the window until Ivan feared it would permanently damage itself. He had been forced to confine the frantic creature to a cage, hoping it would calm itself. The firebird had calmed but it had then taken to tearing at its own feathers, pulling them off so viciously that it ended up painting itself and the cage with blood. Its cries haunted his sleep until he could no longer suffer the pain he saw in those fevered eyes.

After four sleepless nights he had released the bird and it had fled from him. His heart had fled with it and he feared that it would never return to him. That fear had escalated with the coming of summer and there was no sign of the firebird on the first day. Nor did appear on the second or the third. Finally, on the fourth day, it had drifted in with a warm wind bringing with it a silent message that Ivan read only too well.

’Keep my firebird overdue and I shall do the same.’

Trey had forgiven him his folly and he had agreed to never keep him overdue again. As painful as it was to watch him leave at the end of summer it was far more painful to watch him tear himself apart at the rusalki’s persistent call.

He sighed and returned his attention to the journal in his lap.

For fifteen years he’d studied every spell and theory on how to change a man’s form. When each one of those had failed to free his lover from the curse he’d studied the spells that changed animals into humans. Those too failed them. Since then he had turned his attention to the golden pendant that Libertine gifted his slave for his three-month visit. Somehow it held the power to allow Trey to switch between forms but Ivan had yet to unlock its secrets and Trey could not help him.

All they knew was that the wearer could not remove it for it burned Trey’s hands to touch it and its magic repelled any of Ivan’s attempts. He had tried only once and once had been enough. Upon lifting the golden chain a foreign magic that tasted as old as the earth itself had flooded into him, tearing through his own innate magic and turning it against him.

He hadn’t risked removing it since.

Sharp laughter drew his attention back to his red haired companions who were involved in an impromptu race that was making the few guards that traveled with them exceedingly nervous. It returned the smile to his face as he watched father and son frisk about. Ivan wondered how much longer they would be able to play out the falsehoods that shadowed their lives.

Every year brought changes in Alexei’s body, molding him more and more after his true father. There were things that were his mother in him such as the slant of his eyes and the roundness of his face but his coloring and his curiosity were purely Trey. Sometimes Ivan found it difficult to sit with his son for Alexei would do or say something that would force him to bite his tongue lest he mistakenly call the boy by his real father’s name.

So far Alexei seemed content with the knowledge that he simply took after his “uncle” in looks but Ivan wondered how much longer that would last. The young prince had a quick mind and it would not be long before he realized that there was very little he had inherited from his “father”. How long before he wondered why he possessed not one of Ivan’s features? How long before he had children of his own, none of whom would possess Ivan’s black hair or green eyes? How long before the truth came out that there were no more princes of Tsaravich blood to take the throne?

“Father!”

Ivan shook off his dark thoughts as Alexei reined his horse alongside the opened carriage.

“Come ride with us!” His son urged.

He eyed the dusty, sweating, and panting boy, noting the torn pants where he had ridden too close to reaching branches. “I do believe I shall pass on that.” He decline dryly.

“Please?” Golden eyes widened and Ivan shook his head in amusement.

The wolf at his feet lifted its large head and pinned the prince with a grey-eyed glare. “Why would you want to ride about like that when you could ride in luxury here?”

“Because its fun!” Chimed in the wolf pup that wound its way among horse legs, earning warning screams from the horses it passed.

The Grey Wolf snorted. “Such fun is for the young. When you get older fun will change so that a comfortable den that takes you where you need to go will be the best source of “fun””.

Yala shook her head and padded away up the road where Trey was waiting for them patiently. His horse was a creature that was immune to all forms of surprise and ignored the wolf at its feet. It had become necessary for Ivan to buy a few colts from the magical horse that had once belonged to his brother for nothing magical frightened them. A blessing since Trey practically glowed with barely suppressed magic. Normal horses refused to suffer his presence on their backs.

Alexei raced past him but Trey ignored his goading into another race, choosing instead to fall in beside the carriage. “Are you sure you don’t want to come play?” Trey asked, his golden eyes glinting with amusement.

Ivan shook his head. “I prefer more private forms of playing that involve less dirty results.”

Trey snorted. “For you maybe.” He grumbled.

Ivan smirked, glad that the sound of hooves and turning wheels drowned their voices out so that none of the guards overheard them.

“What have you found this year?” Trey asked, leaning over to peer at the book in the tsar’s lap.

Ivan sighed and shrugged. “I’m not even sure anymore. I can barely read it.”

“It certainly looks to have seen better days.”

“It is older than us ten times over.” Ivan replied, “I don’t know what we’re going to try if this fails.”

Trey rode silently for a few minutes, his eyes staring off at the boy and wolf in the distance. “We’ll find something.” He murmured.

Ivan shook his head. “Fifteen years is a long time to be optimistic. Especially since I’m quickly running out of books.”

Trey shrugged. “Then we will make our own spells if these fail.”

Ivan sighed and closed the book firmly. “I wish I had your optimism.”

Trey laughed softly. “Some days that is all that is left to me.”

That night, with the young prince tucked away in his warm bed and the entire household trapped within the land of dreams the Tsar called his magic forth . . .

. . . and once again met with bitter failure. Trey lunged forward to catch the falling man, careful to support him lest his head strike the floor. Ivan’s breath was labored and his skin clammy as the power left him, taking with it some of his own inner energy. Trey closed his eyes tightly at the sense of defeat that welled within him.

It was so unfair. All of it. The cruelest day his life had been the happiest. What had they done to be given the illusion of a life of quiet love only to have it taken away by a hateful man’s last action? What had they done to deserve such a twist of fate? What had they done to warrant such pain?

He sighed and opened his eyes, gently brushing the loose hair from his unconscious lover’s face. As painful as it was to watch Ivan’s magic fail to break the curse year after year he knew it was nowhere as harmful as what the tsar felt. Every failure seemed to be a harsh weight that dragged his lover a bit further down in the treacherous waters of guilt and self-loathing.

It was a downward spiral that Trey wished desperately that he could save his lover from. He’d even gone so far as to try to convince Ivan to stop his search for a time. He had begged him to go on with his life, rule his kingdom, and raise his son. Ivan had only shaken his head and returned to study books he’d already read a thousand times over.

Part of him had been elated at Ivan’s persistence and the promise that perhaps next year would be the year that Ivan found the final piece of magic that would unlock the curse upon him. That part, however, died a little with every failure that brought the pain of self-loathing to his lover’s green eyes. Trey didn’t understand why but Ivan took every failure as a sign that he was too weak or too stupid.

It was the same age-old fight Trey had seen in him before. Once upon a time it had been the hatred of his body and looks. Now it was the hatred of his own abilities that sought to drag the proud tsar down. With every failure Ivan felt that he had not tried hard enough so the next year he would push himself a bit harder, only to fall a bit farther when his magic gave out. One day Trey feared he would push himself too far and the magic would take his very soul. Assuming Ivan’s own hatred of himself didn’t kill him first.

Green eyes fluttered open, staring up at him blankly. He forced a smile and brushed the back of his hand over the pale cheek, glad to feel a small bit of warmth returning to the cool skin.

“Welcome back.” He whispered.

Ivan murmured something softly but Trey didn’t need to hear the words to understand the question. With a sigh he sadly shook his head.

The green eyes closed and Trey could almost feel his heart break at the look of resigned regret.

“At least I’m not bleeding all over you this year.” Trey pointed out.

As he had hoped a ghost of a smile teased the corners of Ivan’s lips. “Next year.” The tsar promised, his teasing voice barely audible.

Trey laughed softly, carefully dragging Ivan up onto his feet. “As long as you promise to heat up the dagger this time. No more cold knives.”

For all their joking Trey was beginning to suspect Ivan would have to return to the bloodiest of the theories he had come across. He wondered if Ivan would even be able to return to it for when he had been forced to drive the dagger into his lover his hands had shaken. Trey had seen how much will it took for Ivan to ignore his hisses of pain and continue. As much as he hated to admit it he could see no other recourse for it had been through blood and pain that the curse had been bound into his very being. With a shudder he was reminded of the feel of the cold stone table underneath him and the flashing dagger that had caused hot pain as it tore him apart.

The Koshchey had bound him externally with magic and steel just as he had done internally. Through blood, pain and magic he had taken a man and bred within him a creature of myth. With a single feather that he had placed inside of his slave Dedumil had achieved his greatest feat of magic. A feat that Ivan had once attempted to recreate, except that instead of placing a firebird’s feather within his sacrifice he had tried to remove it. But he had failed for the feather had become so integrated within him Ivan had feared dealing a killing blow by removing it.

Trey shivered despite the heat of the night. Ivan had not fully understood what that had meant but he did. He felt it at the beginning of every summer when he fought against a bird’s natural pull to seek safer lands away from the stone palace with all of its humans. He felt it as he skimmed over treetops; his eyes sharp for the presence of a potential mate with whom he would share a nest. He felt it in the fear that welled within him at sudden sounds and the bark of a hunting dog. He felt it on days when the wind blew threw his hair and the urge to spread his wings and let it take him where it willed was nearly unbearable.

The firebird was growing within him.

How much longer until he could no longer distinguish between bird and man? How many more years would he be able to ignore the bird’s instinct and fly a straight line to home and Ivan? How much longer would he be able to consider the structures of humans home? How much longer would he be able to suffer even Alexei’s presence when every instinct in his body screamed that the harmless boy was a potential predator?

They walked on silently through the deserted halls of the estate. Ivan was a heavy weight upon his side for the tsar barely had enough energy left to stay awake let alone walk but Trey did not mind. Ivan spent ninth months of the year searching for a way to free him, the least he could do was help his lover back to his bed after he expended all of his energy in a bid to end the curse.

He had never voiced his concerns to Ivan for he did not want to drive his lover to feats of magic that he would never be able to recoup from. Magic was a fickle thing and strong emotions often caused it to go astray. A single spike of fear or desperation and it would attack.

Trey’s eyes immediately traveled to the thin wrist cupped in his hand and the long white scar that ran the length of Ivan’s palm. A scar made by a human tool and made worse by magic gone crazed by the blood of its summoner. It was a constant reminder of lengths his lover would go for him. Ivan had been lucky that the magic hadn’t stopped his heart when it had entered his physical body through the open wound. Luck like that rarely struck twice and Trey was not willing to risk the man that had been both captor and lover just to free himself from a sadistic sorcerer’s curse.

They reached the rooms they were sharing and Trey was glad to see that Byely had left the door unguarded. Ivan suffered the indignity of being tucked into bed and was asleep before Trey had divested himself of the ruined shirt he had worn for the working. He moved to the side of the bed but couldn’t bring himself to take his place in it. With a sad smile he bent and pressed a kiss to Ivan’s still lips.

Straightening he moved to the double windows that overlooked the night clad garden. Frustration and anger welled within him and he flung them open. The golden pendant struck his chest as he climbed out onto the ledge and leapt. Heavy wings beat frantically, finally breaking the angled body of the firebird free of the earth’s influence. A warm wind ran over its feathers and as it climbed higher into the air, skipping from current to current in its assent.

Finally it reached the pinnacle of its ascent and with a scream of rage and anger released into the cold air it allowed itself to fall from the sky, screaming its complaints to ancient gods that seemed to have turned a deaf ear to its pain as it plummeted back to the earth.

Alexei paced through the estate on silent feet.

He had exhausted his energy supply early in the evening and had excused himself from dinner to get some rest. He had barely been able to keep his eyes open long enough to make it to his bed. However he had woken with renewed vigor and an entire estate to explore. The best part being that his father would be fast asleep and unable to yell at him.

He grinned. He had spent long nights pacing the halls of the palace but there was no such thing as true night there for the palace never seemed to sleep. But here at his father’s estate where it was just the three of them and the small group of servants it seemed as though he were the only person left alive in the world.

Something bright caught his eye and he followed the flashes of light out to the back garden where he watched the firebird dart over the ground like the birds at home when they were feasting on bugs. It flit over the grass at a great speed before suddenly arching up and climbing high into the air. He cocked his head watching it climb and then felt his heart stop as it suddenly rolled onto its back and fell from the sky, screaming.

He had known fear only a few times in his life and each time had involved the prospect of losing his dearest friend or his father. Fearing for the life of his uncle was new but it brought out the same body numbing response as he watched the great bird plummet towards the ground.

Its scream was suddenly ended by a loud crack as the wide wings snapped open, sending the firebird angling outwards an instant before death. It skirted along the ground as it had when he had first seen it, dumping its speed as it turned and danced over the moonlight grass with furious beats of its wings.

Alexei saw the moment it turned the edges of its wings upwards and knew that it was about to repeat its heart-stopping dive. He also knew that he would not be able to stand watching the spectacle again so he ran out onto the grass reaching out to the bird.

His hands closed about the red feathers and he dragged the creature back, clutching the struggling form to his chest. The firebird trilled, a sound full of warning and fear but Alexei refused to release it. Its scream as it had fallen from the sky still rang in his ears and he did not need his inborn talent to understand the language of animals to know that it was cry of pain. The reminder brought tears to his eyes as he clung to the bird in his arms.

Finally both bird and boy settled and they sat upon the damp grass, staring at each other in the night’s silence. Alexei laughed softly when the firebird gently preened his hair and wiped the tears from his eyes with its feathered cheek.

“You shouldn’t do such things,” he admonished quietly, “didn’t your father ever teach you not to frighten those that love you? I know mine tells me on a fairly regular basis. Sometimes for no reason at all!”

The firebird chirped and shook out its feathers, giving into the urge to preen. Alexei buried his fingers in the long feathers of its crest, laughing as he teased a trill of pleasure out of the firebird as it twisted its head, manipulating his scratching fingers to hit all the sensitive spots.

“Come on,” he said, struggling to stand while still balancing the firebird in his arms, “while we’re up we might as well get into more trouble.”

He crept to the kitchen where the firebird perched on a high backed chair, preening the long feathers of its tail as he dug through the larders. He returned triumphantly baring pastries destined for the morning’s high table and the carefully sealed box of fruit from his father’s orchard. He laughed as the firebird picked through the collected fruit, turning up its nose at all but one of the apples.

“I don’t know why you take so long. They’re all the same!” Alexei stated, licking fruit paste from his fingers, “You’ll just end up eating the rest at some point.”

The firebird gave him a golden-eyed glare and snorted.

The young prince stole a second pastry from the covered tray, watching as the firebird methodically peeled and ate the apple, holding it steady between one foot and the back of the chair as its sharp beak cut pieces of fruit from the core.

They ate their stolen treats in silence until Alexei could stomach no more of the sweet pastries and the firebird folded a foot up under itself, feathers fluffed in contentment. He stood and gathered the plate and box, returning them to their proper places. His hands slowed in their tasks and he bit his lip.

“Did you and my father have a fight?” He asked, busying himself with straightening the already straight cloth covers over the food.

There was a strange rustling of feathers before deep sigh from behind him and he heard the chair creak as a larger body settled into it. “No, not a fight. It’s much too early for that. More of a . . . restlessness on my part.”

Alexei sighed in relief and turned back. “That’s good. I want the two of you to come out to the market with me tomorrow and I do not wish to be riding between two men sulking with each other.”

His uncle sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think that will be a good idea. The trip tired your father greatly. I suspect he will sleep in rather late tomorrow.”

Alexei’s shoulders slumped. “I see.” He murmured.

His uncle smiled and stood, reaching out to pat his head in a gesture of affection that rankled the young prince’s pride. “You’re a good boy, Alexei. We’ll go when your father is back to his irritable old self so he can yell at us for going too fast or kicking up too much dirt. Then he can buy us all sorts of things to show he really doesn’t mean half of what he says.”

Alexei brightened. “I like that idea!”

“I knew you would. Come on now, we’ve haunted these halls long enough. Time for us to be abed.”