Episode 113

(New York, September 19, 2019)

“Is that really true?” Alana asked, well aware of the absurdity of entrusting her precious hope to a man who could not — and surely would not — nurture it. Was she that desperate for some word of comfort, however implausible?

Karkov shrugged. “It’s what Rin told me.”

Once again the dubiousness of this struck Alana, and once again she suspected a trap. But whose trap? She leaned forward and looked Karkov in the eye.

“So you’ve said. Did you really think I’d buy that? I didn’t believe you then, and I certainly don’t now.”

“You are free to choose what you believe.” Karkov stirred his cup absentmindedly, took a sip, and then smiled. “However, for somebody who professes not to believe a word I say, you seem very willing to listen to those words. That’s uncharacteristically indulgent of you.”

Alana gave him a disdainful look. “Do not mistake indulgence for credulity. I may listen to you, but I never believe you.”

“Your demeanor so far says otherwise.”

Had he been quietly observing her throughout the whole conversation? Maybe he wanted to see how well his lies were working and adjust tactics accordingly. He certainly didn’t appear to be scrutinizing her, but perhaps he was as discreet about such things as she was. No, the man wasn’t discreet, just annoying. He was probably trying to rattle her.

“And may I remind you,” Karkov added, “that you sought this meeting with me. Not only did you seek it, but you spent the first few minutes petulantly whining that you didn’t get to see me sooner.” He grinned at her. “I’d say that, quite the contrary, you can’t wait to listen to me.”

Alana slumped back into her seat. “Fine then. When did you supposedly meet with her?”

Karkov took a sip from his now-empty cup, eyed it with annoyance for a moment, and then put it down. He looked like he was going to signal the waiter, but apparently decided not to.

“We met almost twelve years ago.”

“You said it was around the time I tried to contact you.”

“I said nothing of the sort. You should attend my words more closely.”

Alana exhaled, but stopped herself from snapping at the man. “Your words are rarely worth attending, even when they aren’t lies.”

“So you prefer to attend to lies? I’ll remember that.”

“And what happened at this purported meeting?”

“Nothing happened at a purported meeting, but I can tell you what happened at the real meeting.”

“Yes, please do,” Alana replied through gritted teeth.

“We didn’t fight, if that’s what you’re wondering. She had a young man with her.”

Alana relaxed. Lies tended to be simple. This was too contrived, bespeckled with pointless and easily refutable details.

“A lover?” she ventured, genuinely curious. “Was he human?”

Karkov raised an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

Alana glowered at him, and he sighed. “Of sorts. Let’s just say that it was somebody she had a care for. And yes, he was mortal.”

That Rin could care for anyone new, let alone a human, was both astonishing and unsettling. It also was useful to know. Caring was a weakness and could offer potential leverage. Perhaps there was a way to defeat Rin, or at least thwart her. Unfortunately, any such leverage would not outlast the fellow’s short human life. Alana studied Karkov. This couldn’t have escaped him. If he was already acting along those lines, any interference from her would be counterproductive and could redound on both of them catastrophically.

“And?”

Karkov shrugged. “That’s it.” He looked at his watch and prepared to signal the waiter.

Alana decided she needed to be quick. She had allowed herself to be distracted and hadn’t gotten to the main topic yet. However, she still needed to soften the man up a bit before doing so. Why was he acting so impatient? He didn’t lack time. The whole thing was probably an act of some sort, though to what end was unclear. She quickly retraced the conversation in her mind and found what she was looking for.

“I thought you were going to tell me why you betrayed Rin?”

Karkov gave a light laugh. “You make it sound so … unsavory. I said I would give you my reason, nothing more and nothing less.”

“It’s been a lot less.”

“Well, I tried, but you seemed more interested in gossip about the boy she was boinking.”

“She was screwing him?”

“How would I know? I’m not a girl, so I don’t gossip.”

It was Alana’s turn to laugh. “You are more a girl than any girl I have met.”

“I suppose that means you’ll try to fuck me — or is that only your students?”

“You don’t have what it takes.”

“And your brother does?”

“I mean to be my student.”

Karkov smiled. “How would we know? I’ve never been molested.”

“Can you just continue with the goddamned, fucking explanation? Since you’re going to lie to me anyway, at least do it quickly.”

“Most women like it slow.”

Alana groaned.

“That’s the sound.”

She glared at him.

Karkov paused as if savoring a thought, and then resumed his explanation.

“I grasped the problem with the spheres early on,” he explained. “Rin was a brilliant craftsman but didn’t have a knack for fully reasoning things through. That hasn’t changed, I’d wager. Each of us is neither more nor less than we originally were. Despite our protections, we remain finite beings. We can only work with the material we have. Rin’s forte was never contemplation.”

Alana was tempted to warn Karkov that he underestimated the woman, but she refrained. If he was unaware of the truth by now, mere words wouldn’t change that. He understood Rin in his own way: as a husband, a king, and an enemy. Besides, it would be imprudent to assume that she understood Rin any better, especially after this long. She hadn’t even been aware of their reunion until a whole decade after it happened. True, she wasn’t watching — at least not like in the old days. Perhaps it was time to change that. No, it was already too late. Events had caught up with her, and only a fool would imagine she could wrest control of them at this point.

“There is a critical problem with the spheres,” Karkov observed after a few moments of silence. “I realized this soon after receiving my own.” He looked at Alana. “This may surprise you, but I knew nothing of the protections or Rin’s immortality until the moment she granted my own. Even then, I thought she was just drawing me into one of her games. She liked that sort of pretend play.”

Alana put up her hand. “I don’t need to hear the details of your ‘pretend play’, thank you.”

“I’m sure you require no education in that regard, but I’m not referring to anything salacious. She liked to make up a story and inhabit the fantasy, though not to the extent people do these days.” Karkov gave a chuckle. “One time, she brought home a strangely colored flower and told me that it would …” He stopped himself and looked at Alana for a moment. “Well, I needn’t go into that. She said it was extraordinarily rare and told an elaborate story about its mysterious properties and how she had come by the thing. I later found out it was from the garden. She had soaked some commonplace flower in fruit juice and then aired it out to get rid of the smell.”

Alana scowled. “You expect me to believe that you were married to her yet had no idea she was immortal?”

Why did she feel so irritated? Was it because he had refused to share the details of the story, as if doing so would sully a special memory he shared with Rin? Or was it because he had such a special memory? The girl had never opened up to Alana, at least not in that way. Was this what Karkov provided that she could not: a playmate? Her thoughts returned to the man before her. Playmate? Who would want that as a playmate?

“Either you were the most oblivious husband in history, or you think I’m the stupidest woman in it. Did you invent that little anecdote in the hope of fostering trust? Am I supposed to respond with some fond recollection of my own?”

Karkov replied with languid frigidity. “I do not expect you to believe me, and I do not need you to. You are convinced that I seduced Rin for her power, and I don’t hope to disabuse you of this notion. However, you’ll have to content yourself with believing I sought secular power. She hid her supernatural activities from me until the moment I became the object of them.”

“Everybody knew. There was talk all over of her sorcery.”

Karkov shook his head. “Sure, if by ‘everybody’ you mean yourself and your little circle of cronies that were using her. Some vague talk did reach me, but I didn’t take it seriously.”

Alana scoffed. “That’s very convenient and completely unverifiable. I very much doubt you ignored such talk about your wife, who also happened to be your queen.”

“Rumors and fanciful imaginings of all sorts were abundant. I dismissed what little I did hear as yet another baseless myth spread by the likes of you in service of some political scheme or another. She hid the whole thing from me quite well, and I’d venture a guess that this was partly your doing — or at least your training. For her part, I doubt it was a sign of mistrust or vacillation. She probably was waiting until she was skilled enough to make me a Sixteen, though heaven knows why she didn’t just tell me that. Perhaps she was worried that I would be angry I wasn’t the first person she made immortal, or maybe she just wanted it to be a romantic surprise. I don’t know, and I never asked.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Karkov gave Alana a cold smile. “Not everyone is as calculating or cynical as you. My attention was devoted to her, as well as to my newfound responsibilities. You probably never realized this, since you spent your time diddling your acolytes, but being in charge is a lot of work.”

Alana rewarded him with an angry glare but said nothing.

“I knew much less back then than you give me credit for,” Karkov explained, his eyes now tired. “There were rumors that she was a magician, but such rumors weren’t surprising for a priestess-become-queen. Only when she made me immortal did Rin reveal her true nature. She shared the details of the process, though I confess I did not pay much attention at the time. I was a besotted youth who had just been granted eternity by his love. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I attended her words more closely. Even if she is the only one who can craft the spheres — a claim of which I have grown somewhat skeptical — I at least would like to better understand them. Knowing is the next best thing to doing. Armed with such knowledge, perhaps I could have found a better way.”

“Better way to do what?”

“I may have been able to spare Rin her imprisonment.”

“How touching,” Alana cooed. “You would have been able to avoid burying her alive. That’s awfully noble of you. Maybe you’d still be together. Most girls don’t like being buried alive; it tends to put a crimp in the relationship.” Were they still together, she wondered once again? She must sound quite the fool if they were.

“You misunderstand,” Karkov replied, adjusting his yuppie spectacles. “I mean I would have solved the problem more decisively. Rin could still be killed back then. I think. Now, it is too late. She is beyond any of us.”