Emblazoned across the poster were the words SAVE YOUR COUNTRY! KILL THE KOLDUN, RECLAIM THE THRONE!

“This one’s Otzvuk,” Vanya said. “The city was under their occupation up until two weeks ago.”

As the boys continued along the foreshore path, another flyer plastered to the wall caught my eye. It was painted almost as garishly as the Otzvuk propaganda poster—a full-color ad emblazoned with a drawing of an upyr, its teeth bared and eye sockets barren. Across the bottom, the poster read:

THE HALL OF WONDERS

TRAINED RUSALKA—ANCIENT ARTIFACTS—LIVE UPYR

AND MUCH MORE!

“Hey, look at this,” I said to the others.

Mikhail returned to my side and studied the advertisement. “Toma, I doubt you’d find a live upyr in this city. At most, it’s probably a stuffed one.”

“What if it isn’t?” I said, and he hesitated. “Think about it. If this person knows how to catch upyri, he probably knows how to transport them, too. He might even have sold some to Koschei.”

“Let’s check it out,” Vanya said. “It’s not as though we have anything else to do.”

“Now’s not exactly the time to sightsee,” Mikhail said dully. “In case you haven’t noticed, this entire city is crawling with Fraktsiya soldiers.”

“Even more reason.” Vanya nudged me in the side with a grin. “By the time we leave, they’ll all be so drunk, they won’t be able to tell their heads from their asses. Right, Toma?”

“Can people actually get that drunk?” I asked Mikhail as Vanya sauntered on ahead.

“I’m sure Ivan has.” Mikhail rolled his eyes. “Just look at what it’s done to his brain.”

We turned down a cobblestone street caged in by ivy-encumbered houses and dark storefronts. The Hall of Wonders was located by the riverside, in a three-story building that had probably once been painted blue, but over the years had faded to a mottled gray. Chunks of plaster had broken free of the walls, revealing the red brick beneath like bloodied scabs. Bars curled over the ground floor’s windows, and past them, a silhouette drifted across the gauzy white curtains.

As we entered, the shadow resolved itself into a lean dark-haired man in an ankle-length crimson robe fastened with a sash adorned with brass scales. Setting aside the book he’d been leafing through, he offered us a warm smile.

“Ah, visitors.” His words were colored by a subtle accent that reminded me of Papa’s, somewhere as far south as the Black Steppe or beyond it. “Come to see the beast tamer Emre’s marvelous monsters?”

I cleared my throat. “We were actually wondering—”

“Don’t believe what you’ve heard about Adélard’s Emporium of Oddities. His so-called ‘stuffed rusalka’ is nothing more than half a bear cub sewn onto a Vesna funnelfish tail. Now, my collection of beasties, on the other hand, is a true sight to be marveled at. It is unrivaled in the empire, exceeded only by the great menagerie of Svet.” He emphasized his point with a flourish of his hand. “I spent my youth traveling to distant lands, collecting oddities and rare treasures. For just thirty grevka a person, I’ll give you an experience you won’t soon forget.”