Page 158 of Foul Days

She settled on patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Right,” Asen said. “I’ll see you.”

Kosara’s gaze drifted behind him, to Belograd’s brightly lit shop windows and the colourful lanterns swinging in the wind. She inhaled the smell of seaweed and brine, spices and citrus fruits, expensive perfume, and cheap street food.

And then, just as the Wall had almost glued itself together behind her, she turned on her heel and rushed back to Chernograd. Back home.

EPILOGUE

Once Kosara got back to the house, she couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to finally quiet the little voice in the back of her head, constantly asking “what if?”

What if she’d failed? What if the Zmey’s imprisonment hadn’t been enough?

Kosara paused for a second to calm her heartbeat before walking to the end of the hallway and knocking on the red door. Without waiting for a reply, she pushed it open.

The room was empty. Not like before, when the wind rustling in the trees outside sounded like whispers, and the dust particles in the air spelled messages if you looked at them just right.

No, the room was empty. The distant smell of Nevena’s perfume was gone. Her silhouette didn’t appear in the corner, only to disappear again when Kosara tried to focus on it. Her screams didn’t echo in Kosara’s mind.

Kosara wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks with the back of her hand. She curled up on the bed, hugging the pillow, and let herself cry until her throat felt rough. She felt such overwhelming relief. Finally, she’d done right by her sister.

But she also felt so, so alone.

* * *

She didn’t realise she’d fallen asleep. When she woke up, the room was freezing cold, the pillow damp beneath her cheek.

She lifted herself up on her elbows. The wind outside was so strong it snuck through the poorly insulated windows and made the curtains billow. Frost flowers bloomed on the glass, distorting the gas lamps outside. For a second, Kosara could swear she spotted the horned silhouette of a karakonjul on the roof opposite.

Then she blinked, and it was gone.

She chuckled to herself. Silly. The Foul Days were over. Chernograd was safe—until next New Year’s Eve, at least. Her tired mind was playing tricks on her.

Kosara yawned and stretched. Her bare feet hit the freezing floor. She’d never had that hot bath she’d promised herself earlier, and now was the perfect time, before her toes fell off from the cold.

“Bye, Nevena!” Kosara said cheerfully before she left the room, out of pure habit.

Nevena was gone. Finally, irrevocably gone.

But as Kosara’s fingers landed on the door handle, the curtains moved, caressing her bare forearms. The wind whistled in the chimney, Kosara.

Kosara froze.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. And yet, it had sounded exactly like Nevena’s voice.

Kosara, please don’t leave me.

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