Page 27 of Sanctuary

Finn sat unmoving. The shepherd puppy had wedged herself next to him, her head on his lap, and was looking at him with devoted eyes.

The doggie door banged. A moment later the melalo scurried into the living room and hid behind the metal ash bucket, half of his good head with a small, round eye sticking out.

“There you are, paskudnik.”

The melalo shivered.

“Look at what you’ve wrought. Got yourself caught, now the child is traumatized.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Finn muttered. “They were trying to catch Fedya. He ran at them to distract them.”

“Is that true?”

The melalo shivered again. Roman got up, came back with a piece of jerky, and held it out. The melalo scooted from behind the bucket, snagged the jerky, and ran back to his hiding spot.

Steam escaped the kettle’s spout. Hot enough. Roman pulled the swivel arm out of the fire with the fire poker, grabbed the kettle’s handle with a folded towel, and poured two mugs of the hot brew. The scent of spices filled the room. He handed one mug to Finn. “Drink.”

“What is it?”

“Sbiten. Honey, jam, water, and spices. Will warm you right up.”

Finn sipped. Some color came back into his face.

Roman landed in his favorite spot on the couch and drank from his mug. “I’m all ears.”

Finn looked into his mug.

“We’re past the point where you can be shy about it,” Roman told him.

“They took my sister.”

“Who?”

Finn gave him a dark look. “The gods.”

“The Slavic gods?”

He nodded. “She made some kind of deal with them. She is always off, doing something they want. Sometimes she comes home, but she never stays longer than a couple of days.”

Not unusual. Deals with gods always came with strings attached. The question was, what did his sister get out of that deal?

“Then, last year, in February, I started getting these dreams. Winter, northern lights. Snow. Ice. Dark forest.” Finn drank more sbiten. “I would wake up and the bed would be covered in frost.”

That sounded about right.

“Did you have powers before that?”

Finn shook his head.

“This happened before with my sister, but in a different way. My parents took me to Biohazard. There is a man there who can tell what your magic is.”

“Luther Dillon.”

Finn glanced up. “You know him?”

Roman nodded. Luther was a rarity—a powerful, formally educated mage who didn’t have his head up his ass.

“What did Luther say?”

---