Page 84 of Foul Days

Thankfully, Malamir did it for her. “So, Mother says you need me urgently.”

“We do. Do you still have your graveyard keys?”

Malamir’s mouth became a thin, pale line. “You’re not planning on going to the graveyard during the Foul Days, are you?”

“Well, yeah, but only during the day.” Kosara laughed, as if the utter horror that flashed in his eyes wasn’t perfectly understandable. “Come on, Malamir, don’t look at me like that. It’ll be fine.”

“Will it?”

“Of course. I know what I’m doing.”

“But the last time—”

“Pfft, the last time.” Kosara waved a hand dismissively. “That was years ago. I’m much older and wiser now.” I’m older, in any case.

“Well … If you’re sure it’s safe…”

“Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t even dream of going there if I wasn’t sure.”

Malamir considered her for a few seconds. “Give me a minute.”

The rhythmic clicking of his crutches faded as he disappeared into the dark hallway. Soon, he returned, carrying a shiny key ring shaped like a bedazzled articulated skeleton.

“Isn’t it wonderfully tacky?” Malamir asked when he saw her face.

Kosara opened her mouth to confirm that it was, in fact, awful, but she was interrupted by a loud thud inside the house. A growl sounded.

“Malamir!” Mrs. Petrosyan screamed. “You’ve let that beast out of your room again! I told you to keep your door shut!”

Malamir swore quietly. “Sorry, Mum!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll get him in a second!”

“It’s going to ruin my crochet sofa throws, Malamir!”

“I’ll be there in a second, Mum!” He turned back to Kosara and hesitated, the keys dangling between his bandaged fingers. “Listen, I have to go. Will you promise me to be careful?”

Kosara snatched the keys. “I promise. What the hell is ‘the beast’?”

“Oh, I got a new dog. Mum’s being so dramatic about it. Truth be told, I’d be glad if he eats the crochet sofa throws, they’re dreadful.”

Kosara frowned. That growl hadn’t sounded much like a dog.

“Malamir!” Mrs. Petrosyan shouted again. “Now it’s chewing on the carpet!”

“Just a second, Mum!” Malamir grabbed Kosara’s hand and squeezed it. “I have to run. You two be careful, alright?”

“I told you, I know what I’m doing.”

She could tell by Malamir’s face he had his doubts about that. “I’ll wait for you here. If you aren’t back by sundown—”

“We’ll be out of there by lunchtime. Don’t worry.”

“Malamir!”

“I’m coming, Mum!” He considered Kosara for a long moment. “See you soon. I hope.” And then, he closed the door.

“Is it really that dangerous?” Asen asked quietly. His face had grown ashen, only the tips of his nose and ears glowing red in the cold wind.

“Nah,” Kosara said, trying to sound casual. “Malamir is worrying over nothing. The upirs sleep during the day. We’ll dig up the grave, get the compass, and we’ll be out of there in time for lunch. Easy-peasy.”

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