Free Clockwork Menagerie: A Shadows of Asphodel Novella by Karen Kincy Page A

Bach pounded the desk with his fist. “Not counting your jaunt to the Naval Engineering Institute. Did you proposition Captain Himmel?”
    Blood rushed from Konstantin’s face. “Pardon?” He sounded remarkably calm.
    “Don’t play innocent. You don’t understand the meaning of discretion.”
    “Himmel seems irrelevant, sir.”
    Von Bach’s nostrils flared. “You don’t deny the accusations?”
    “I’m not aware of the accusations in their entirety.”
    “Christ, you can’t lie to save your life.” Von Bach gripped the desk, the hairs on his knuckles bristling. “Did you bugger the captain? Or were you preoccupied seducing military secrets out of Alexsandr Dmitriev?”
    A laugh escaped Konstantin. “Sir, I promise you, seduction isn’t one of my talents.”
    “None of your talents will be needed by the Archmages of Vienna.”
    “Is that all?”
    “Get out of my office.”
    Shaking, Konstantin straightened. “Yes, sir.”
    On numb legs, he strode through the door and stepped into the cold. The noise of St. Petersburg disoriented him. He sat on the icy steps and unpinned the golden edelweiss from his lapel. It didn’t belong to him now.
    Relieved of duty indefinitely.
    Walking to the hotel felt like wading through a dream. In the lobby, Konstantin sank onto a sofa, the edelweiss pin in his fist, gold imprinting his skin. He stared at the paisleys on the carpet until the pattern hurt his eyes.
    “Falkenrath.” Himmel intercepted him with a shot glass in hand. “Want a drink?”
    Konstantin stared at his knuckles. “They sacked me.”
    “What?”
    “I’m not an archmage.”
    Himmel strode to the bar, returned with a bottle, and poured a shot. “Vodka.”
    Konstantin stared at chandelier’s light refracted in the liquor. “I’m not an archmage.”
    “You already said that.” Himmel dropped into a chair opposite him, crossing his legs. “Breathe. Don’t pass out.”
    Konstantin sucked in air. “God, Himmel.” He knocked back the shot, alcohol scorching his throat. “Why did they do this?”
    Himmel poured him another shot of vodka. “I don’t know.”
    Konstantin stared at the edelweiss pin. “I worked so hard to become an archmage. Years of school. All of it, wasted.”
    Himmel leaned with his elbows on his knees. “They don’t deserve you.”
    Eyes stinging, Konstantin downed another shot, letting the vodka burn away the ache in his throat. “The Eisenkriegers… the Hex… they don’t need me for anything. I don’t know what to do. Return to Vienna?”
    Himmel clenched his jaw. “Words fail me, I’m afraid.”
    Nausea gripped the pit of his stomach. Setting down the shot glass, he stood on unsteady legs. “Pardon me.”
    In the bathroom, he hunched over a sink, his hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. The muscles in his arms tensed as he gripped the porcelain. What had he done? If only he could use temporal magic and return to the past.
    God, did he even have a future?
    Konstantin spat in the sink, washed his face, and dried his hands on a towel. The soft cotton calmed his shaking fingers. He couldn’t stay in St. Petersburg. Not with the countess eager to ship him to Siberia. But the thought of retreating to Vienna hit him like a fist to the gut. Everyone would know he was a failure.
    He couldn’t even face Himmel again. The captain had seen enough of his humiliation.
    Alone, Konstantin retreated to his room and packed his things. He knelt on the floor, staring at suitcases of technomancy equipment. His experiments would molder until he had access to another laboratory. Inspiration flickered to life in his mind. Archmages had to follow strict protocols and rules of diplomacy.
    “I’m not an archmage,” he whispered.

    Himmel answered the door after the first knock. A bit tipsy, Konstantin braced himself against the wall. “Theodore.”
    “Are you still drunk?”
    “May I have a moment alone?”
    “Of course.” Himmel stepped aside. “You’re a