Page 12 of Sanctuary

The boy took the two bowls into the living room.

Kor lapped the milk.

Roman brought a sack of chicken feed out, poured it into the long trough he used for the kolovershi, spooned some rice and meat into it, stirred it, set it on the floor, and knocked on the table. The kolovershi flew from the living room, gliding from their hidden perches, past Finn as he was returning to the kitchen, and for a moment he was caught inside the flock. Finn froze. The kolovershi landed in the kitchen and scurried over to their dinner.

“What are they?”

“Kolovershi and kolovertishi. Witch helpers. When a witch or a koldun, a sorcerer, starts working their magic, they attract these guys. They just come out of the woodwork. They feed on magic, and they are what they eat, so each pack is a little different. Some look like rabbits, some look more like owls. These weirdoes are mine.”

The melalo waddled over to the trough.

“What about the bird?” Finn asked.

“Him.” Roman grimaced. “He’s a melalo, a Romani disease demon. Unclean creatures don’t have the best origin stories. Some are born from muck, some from corrupted witch spit, but he takes the cake. He’s the product of the most vile, sick shit that will turn your stomach.”

“That bad?”

“Mhm. Take it from me, kid. You don’t need that story in your life. Now, he is supposed to be much more powerful than he is.”

The melalo gulped the feed, choked, and kept eating.

“I don’t know why the hell he is like this. Maybe because one of his heads died or maybe not enough people believe in him anymore.”

“You don’t like him.” Finn tilted his head.

“I don’t.”

“Why do you have him if he’s that bad then?”

“He showed up on my doorstep half-dead, crawled to my boot, and clung to it. What was I supposed to do, toss him into the garbage?”

Roman poured a little more milk into another bowl and set that on the floor. The cabinet door under the sink opened, and the anchutka crawled out and headed for it.

“And this one?”

“An anchutka. They get a bad rep, but they are just small magic critters. Similar to lesser fae. Don’t like salt or iron. Mostly keep to themselves. They only get agitated when people encroach on their territory, and even then, all they do is try to scare you with eerie noises and stare at you from the darkness. They’re cowards. After this one eats, she will crawl back into her cabinet and we won’t see her until everything is over.”

A low whine rolled through the house.

“And that?”

“That’s Roro. Roro will get to come out after everyone eats. If I let her out now, she’ll tear through here like a wrecking ball, and I don’t have time to clean up that mess.”

Roman took another pot off the stove and ladled out two bowls of stew. He’d made a big pot yesterday. With his mood getting worse and worse, he knew he wouldn’t feel like cooking. Warming up the leftovers for the next three days would be about all he was capable of. Except now things had shifted.

“This is for us. Venison and wild mushrooms. Don’t give any to your dog. Mushrooms aren’t good for her.”

They took their food into the living room. Finn sat on the couch, brought the first spoonful to his lips, tasted it, and began shoveling the stew into his mouth. He mustn’t have eaten for a couple of days, but he’d fed the nechist first without complaining. Maybe there was something to this kid.

Roman walked over to the window. Night had fallen, the snow a ghostly blue blanket on the ground. He concentrated. The darkness parted before his eyes. The mercenary assholes had gone to ground just beyond the property line. They were checking their crossbows.

“Our friends are thinking of invading.” He tasted the stew. Mmmm, good. His appetite was back. How about that?

Finn raised his head from his bowl.

“Let’s see if we can’t discourage them a bit.”

Roman twisted his left hand in their air, reshaping the magic, and gave it a push. A ball of blue fire shot out from his chest through the window and unfurled about ten feet above the snow, flowing into a six-foot-tall skull made of magic glow. The skull’s lower jaw swiveled as if laughing. The four sabertooth fangs on the top and bottom rows cracked against each other loudly.

---