They talked some more, Jozin was quite happy to talk when Surio wasn't morosely hovering over his shoulder. Nikolas felt like he should tell Jozin to stop, he should be going to bed, and it wouldn't bode well to be late to breakfast tomorrow and Richan wouldn't be there to— he swallowed.

"My mother's very good," he said out loud, "I'm sure she'll find a solution."

Jozin blinked, then smiled widely, "I am sure she will!" Then he reached for something next to his bed. It was very heavy, by the way Jozin's face scrunched up as he carefully placed it in front of him. Nikolas caught sight of it briefly, it was an old and battered book, though the pages looked like it was dipped in silver for it was shining too brightly for it to be just regular paper. "Do you want me to read you a story? It'll be really slow, because it's not in your tongue…" he brightened when Nikolas nodded excitedly, "alright, I'll start."

It turned out Skapina had dragons, lots and lots of them, before the Great Schism, when the world itself was divided. But the mountains around it were shaped by dragons, Jozin read, and if you dig deeply enough you could wake one up.

"Has anyone ever ridden one?" said Nikolas sleepily, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"No!" Jozin looked bewildered, shaking his head, his curls bouncing, "They're not horses!"

"I suppose it would be very cold to ride them," Nikolas mused, there was one time his father took the family up to the mountains and the experience was more chilling than relaxing.

"No they're supposed to be very warm," said Jozin, "they're supposed to burn like, oh I don't know, a thousand bonfires. But they won't let you, 'cause that's weird. It's like riding a person."

"Very!" Nikolas agreed.

The book continued for a while after that, but when Jozin started to yawn, Nikolas politely said his goodbyes. He didn't want to intrude on his friend's time afterall, and if Jozin read him the entire book then what was the point of talking the next night? He carefully placed the scale under his pillow, and now that Jozin mentioned it, he could feel its faint warmth through the fabric. There was almost a tic-tic sound, like a faint heart, and the melody was soft and soothing as he closed his eyes.

He awoke to chaos. The first thing he saw was Brytha in the room, and all his sisters, all in various stages of dress.

"Mama's very mad!" Ada exclaimed, rushing towards him. She was just in her nightgown, and her hair, usually brushed and braided, was a tangled bird's nest.

"She is!" Felie pouted. She too looked tousled, though she at least looked like she tried to brush her hair. "She told us all to come in and close the door! And we didn't even have breakfast!"

Nikolas's eyes were on his oldest sister. Usually Brytha would give him a reassuring look, a smile, a faint nod. But this time her face was grim as she closed the curtains and turned to the rest of the siblings. Unlike the rest of them she was dressed for the morning, though there were shadows under her eyes and she was tapping her foot nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"I'm sure Cook will bring us breakfast soon!" Brytha declared loudly, her smile too bright and wide. "Please just sit down and wait."

"What is going on?" Diasa demanded, shoving past Brytha to look out the window.

This led to a chaotic tide as all of the children shoved, elbowed and pushed their way through the window. Brytha managed to keep Ada and Felie away by plucking each child as they attempted to climb over their older siblings. Nikolas knew the game well enough, though when he saw the view beneath he quickly regretted his quick reflexes.

There were lěkarkas everywhere, swarming the town in their hooded bird costumes. There were so many of them they weren't even wearing their usual black, some had resorted to a mix-match of cobbled together colors. The sight of them was enough to hush the rambunctious twins, and the cheery trio of Viola, Sanna and Lianne covered their mouths. That wasn't the worst part, Nikolas realised, gulping. The worst part came with assistant lěkars that came out of the houses. They were in pairs, the lěkars, and carried a stretcher between them. The one they carried looked awfully small, even with the distance.

"I told you lot, STEP BACK!" Brytha shouted, grabbing each sibling by the collar and pulling them away from the window. Her face was red as she stood between them all and the window. Breathing heavily she said again, a forced smile on her face, "Now, we're going to sit down, we're going to wait for Cook. We're going to be pleasant until mother or father comes to fetch us. Do you all agree?"

There was a look on her face that dared them all to disagree and for once the twins did not shout back a smart reply. They all sat there, morose, Nikolas retreating to his own bed, occasionally taking furtive looks at his pillow, and then at Richan's empty bed. Brytha had taken a seat there, and was hugging Richan's pillow to her chest, taking in deep heavy breaths. Ada had sat herself on Brytha's lap, occasionally giving Brytha a confused look. The twins… well the twins were in a corner whispering to themselves. His other sisters were huddled together, miserable frowns on their faces. For once they tolerated Felie joining them. That was how wrong everything was.

Then there was a knock on the door and Brytha was the first on her feet, pushing everyone firmly out of the way. It was Warada, and for once her cheeks were white and her hands were shaking.

"Here, here," said Warada, handing out two steaming trays of porridge and bread, "take it, take it, and leave it out the door when you're done."

Felie tried to rush forward but Nikolas held out a hand to stop her, "Not the time!" he said firmly and she pouted.

"This tastes bad!" Ada declared, sticking out her tongue and pushing the food away, "It's sour!"

"Have mine," Brytha said, diplomatically, "or put more honey on yours, how about that?"

The food tasted fine to Nikolas. Warada was always a good cook, though he supposed this was less than what she would normally make for their family. He dreamt wistfully of a breakfast, a full breakfast with Richan sitting next to him. They would have bread with raisins, three different types of jam, butter and milk, perhaps even boiled eggs and tarts, if Warada was feeling generous that day. Perhaps it was before the house was full, back then his father would butter everyone's bread and joke at the table. It was so long ago Nikolas wasn't even sure if they were jokes, he just remembered that Aldeim had liked making jokes, and the lines around his face were because he laughed with Richan or Brytha or Nikolas.

Something must have happened when the twins were born because Aldeim became so much more serious. Brytha did not talk about it on principle, and no matter how much Richan begged Richan, his older brother didn't tell him either. All Nikolas could recall was that the house was very quiet, even with the cries of the newborn twins. The house was so still you could hear the echoes of footsteps on wood.

"If you're all done, please put away your bowls neatly," said Brytha, "don't make a mess for Cook now."

Then they were back to their places again, except this time Brytha was pacing around the room like a caged snowlion.

"You're making us dizzy!" Diase complained, "Sit down, Brytha, please!"

Brytha ignored her, but she paused when the bell of their house rang. She rushed towards the window, blocking it all with her height and holding the curtains firmly closed with her hands. But she wasn't as fast as Nikolas, and he squeezed in front of her. It was not a lěkarka he saw at the door, nor was it her accompanying lěkars. No, what made him frown and try to look past the foggy window was a Voevoda. Not just any Voevoda, his mother's uniform he knew very well, no, this one was wearing shining gold on her shoulders, and the bird mask of the lěkarka as his mother let her into the house.

"Oh no," Brytha whispered.

"What's wrong?" Nikolas demanded in hushed tones, "please, please, Brytha, you have to tell me, why is a Voevoda visiting?"

He'd seen Brytha angry before. It wasn't hard, living in a house with so many siblings. The twins in particular liked to play pranks on Brytha, liked to hide her things and make her scream in frustration when she stepped on something sticky placed just under her foot at the right moment. He'd seen her deep in thought, especially when Aldeim gave her a challenging puzzle, her brows would furrow and she'd chew on the end of her quill or her knuckle. Then he'd seen her triumphant, reddish hair flying wildy from the careful bun or braid she kept them tamed in, jumping wildly into the air and clapping her hands. This emotion though, this emotion was so very different, so very strange.

"Father was right," Brytha said in an angry hiss, whirling around and the curtains flapping behind her like white wings, "Father was right and Goddess willing I will help him!"

It was one of those things he was clearly too stupid to understand. But before he or any of the others could question her outburst, the door opened. Brytha was smiling in an instant.

"Father!" she said, rushing to the door, her arms opened, "Father, is everything—"

"They told me to separate you children," said Aldeim, and for some odd reason he did not meet anyone's eyes, "they told me to," he took in a breath, and gave everyone of them a tired smile, now looking at each child in turn, "don't worry, this will all pass very soon. I was just busy preparing rooms for you all. How about it Ada, Felie? This would be a fun game, wouldn't it? You'll have a room to yourself, and I'll tell Cook to bring you anything you like, how about that?"

Ada giggled delightedly, and allowed Aldeim to pick her up into his arms. He hugged her close to his chest and his eyes were shining too brightly as he bent down to pick up Felie.

"Should I…" Brytha took in a breath. "Should I come with you, Father?"

"No, no, you stay here with Nikolas," said Aldeim. "Diasa and Guigo? Viola, Sanna and Lianne?"

He was very stupid at math, Nikolas thought wildly, he was very slow at numbers and letters, so he couldn't quite understand why his father would leave Brytha with him. Didn't Aldeim take all the children together? He did when they went to the mountains, and he did when they went to the summer and winter festivals. Why did he separate them now? Who, no why did the Voevoda tell him to separate them? The others looked as shocked as he felt, and they all allowed Aldeim to come and take them in the groups that he'd listed out.

When it was just him and Brytha he said, hopefully, "Maybe they'll keep each other company?"

Brytha responded with an angry scowl, "I wished!"

"What… What did Father tell you?" he said, hesitantly. He didn't want her to fly into a rage as well.

"Mother," Brytha spat out the words, "Mother is reaping her rewards!"

Then she buried her face in Richan's pillow and began to sob. Nikolas stared at her heaving shoulders, the pillow that was slowly getting soaked with tears and hesitantly scrambled for a handkerchief. No, several handkerchiefs. He handed each one to her, and patted her shoulders. It would be beyond stupid to ask her what she meant by 'reaping her rewards' now.