Page 157 of Foul Days

No. Asen knew because he was watching her. He’d recognised Kosara’s shallow breathing and the fear in her movements.

Calm down, she thought sternly. The Zmey can’t get you now.

She checked that her shadow still followed her. Then, she stood straighter and kept walking.

Eventually, they made it through. One second she drifted in darkness, the next her heels clicked against Belograd’s cobbles. Noise filled Kosara’s ears: laughter and chatter from the cafes and restaurants, and loud music from the dancing halls and street musicians on every corner. The moist sea breeze ruffled her hair.

The street was busy, but no one spotted Kosara and Asen walking out of the Wall. No one noted the snowflakes in their hair, even though it was a mild evening in Belograd. No one paid attention to the pile of snow falling off their boots.

Or, if anyone did, they said nothing, too afraid their friends would think they’d gone mad. “You saw a man and a woman walking out of the Wall? Just how many did you drink?”

Kosara wondered how long it would be before people started to cross the Wall freely. She planned to phone a few newspapers and maybe the radio, to spread the happy news, but she suspected it would be a while before anyone else was brave enough to attempt it.

However, Kosara knew that, once they were certain it was safe, Chernogradeans would flock to Belograd’s busy streets. Travel between the two cities would go back to how it had been before the Wall. Crossing the barrier would be as normal as catching the train to Phanarion or the boat to Odesos.

“It worked,” Asen said, releasing her hand. “Thank God.”

“Thank God.” Kosara didn’t remind him they had no one to thank but themselves. “Glad to be back home?”

“Very. Chernograd is a beautiful city, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t wait for a proper cup of tea.”

Kosara turned to face him. For a while now, she’d been wondering which one of them looked the worse for wear. Her, with her bad haircut and wounded face, or him? Asen had kept his hair, but the bags under his eyes were deep enough that he could keep his small change in them.

But now, he smiled brightly at her, and she decided it was definitely him who’d fared better. Damn him, he had a nice smile.

Her gaze flicked to his eyes, then back to his mouth. What she really, truly wanted was to kiss him. But she couldn’t do that. Not after how it had gone the last time.

“What?” Asen asked, completely oblivious.

“Nothing,” Kosara said, looking away from him, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks and forcing it back down. “It’s too warm here.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Asen took his coat off and hung it from his arm.

Kosara shuffled uncomfortably, not wanting to remove her coat despite the heat. She’d only come across to check if her spell had worked, and to ensure Asen made it back to Belograd whole. She didn’t intend to stay long.

She opened her mouth to make her goodbyes, when Asen interrupted her. “So, are you coming to my mum’s for dinner?”

“Sorry?” Kosara was sure she must have misheard him. No one ever took her to meet their mother.

“Do you want to come to my mum’s for dinner? I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Kosara very much doubted Asen’s mum wanted a grumpy, tired witch as a dinner guest. “I can’t. She hasn’t been warned to expect guests and—”

“Oh, don’t worry, she always cooks way too much. She could feed ten of you.”

“I…” Kosara turned back to the Wall. She couldn’t dally. There was so much to do back in Chernograd: she had to pay Vila a visit. She had to figure out who the owners of the eleven witch’s shadows were, so she could give them back. She had to decide what to do about Roksana and Malamir, and she had to track down Karaivanov.

And besides, she and Asen had clearly spent too much time together recently. They both needed space. Maybe if she didn’t see him for a while, she’d stop thinking about his goddamned smile and blushing like a schoolgirl.

“Maybe some other time,” she said. “I have other plans.”

Asen looked doubtful. “You do?”

I’m going to take a long bath, drink half a bottle of wine, and sleep for a thousand years. “Yes, unfortunately, and they can’t be postponed.”

“Oh. Oh well. Some other time.”

For a moment, Kosara stood there, unsure what to do next. A handshake? Too formal. A hug? Too friendly.

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