Page 106 of Katya and the Young God

Selene’s sitting on the floor next to the bed, and Stepan bounces up next to her and—with no time for Katya to intervene—noses her face, immediately dropping limp.

Katya stares, frozen.

Unbothered, Selene claps her hands softly, before petting the dog once more, and Stepan twitches back to life, bouncing up and away, clearly playing.

But Katya can’t move, can’t get her feet to step forward, and she stands, watching as the soft glow pulses around Selene, at the happy pinch in her cheeks, as Stepan pounces and licks Selene’s face, before dropping dead again, and getting revived.

She must’ve made some noise, and both Selene and the dog turn to look up at her.

Selene waves at her, happy and clean in her bright purple pajamas, and Stepan prances over to Katya for affection.

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Katya tugs her robe closed, sitting on the floor across from Selene.

“Pieter told you to be careful with Stepan,” Katya says, keeping her voice soft, out of some detached horror.

Selene nods, but her face is without stress for possibly the first time since getting out of the mountain, and Katya doesn’t want to take that away. “Stepan doesn’t run away,” she replies, as if Katya is the small child that needs explanation. “He always comes back.”

And Stepan leans against Katya, happy as only dogs can be.

“What do you see?” Katya asks, crossing her legs and immediately getting a lapful of giant husky. “When you touch him and he doesn’t run away?”

It’s late, and her eyes are gritty, lending the entire thing to some surreal dream that she’s unsure if it’s a nightmare or not.

“A large room,” Selene says, hugging her legs to her chest and leaning her head against them. “A large room, and I ask him to stay, and he does.”

“And do people?” Her heart’s pounding.

“They always run away,” Selene repeats, like she always does. “They’re scared, and they run away from me. I’m not scary,” she clarifies, quick. “But they’re always scared.”

Katya can’t blame them, as dying doesn’t seem to be something fun, something that anyone would want to do, and another piece of the puzzle that is Selene sockets into place. Another piece of her powers, another way she’s just so utterly different.

This, however, has much bigger ramifications, ramifications to the world that terrify. “Have you ever tried to bring someone back who didn’t fall from your touch?” Katya asks, as Stepan sticks his cold nose against her neck.

Selene shakes her head, simple. “I don’t know if they’d be in the room?” She says, her voice lilting up. “If they were in the room, maybe?”

There’s a huge gap in terminology, of what Selene is struggling to communicate and Katya is fighting to understand, but a little bit of horror settles into Katya’s bones.

It’s far too late at night/early in the morning to deal with the idea that the afterlife might just be a giant room that people can flee from, so Katya just pats Stepan’s side, the dog living, breathing, and warm.

Pieter would say it’s healthy for her to stretch her power, that she shouldn’t be embarrassed or ashamed, and a big part of her wants to agree with that, wants to give Selene a full and kind world to play around in, but the hindbrain part of her wants to put a stop to as much death as possible.

“Playing is good,” Katya starts, brain falling back onto her old familiar handbook of information, “but you do need to make sure that no one gets hurt while you do, or else it won’t be fun.”

A thread of childish mutiny crosses Selene’s face. “Stepan was having fun.”

“I know, but being careful is good,” Katya says, then scowls when Stepan licks the side of her face. “And Pieter would be sad if something happened.”

Selene considers that for a long second, before nodding, as if Katya is spouting some wise maxim. “Can I play with the squirrels outside? Or the rabbits?”

Still, the idea of a small child maybe torturing animals is creepy, but she can’t find a reason to say no, to this god-child who has only a loose grasp of what mortals consider reasonable. “As long as it’s play, and they’re not scared.”

“Pieter could use me, you know,” Selene says, her brown eyes flickering to the doorway, behind which Pieter sleeps. “He thinks he has no power, but he could just use mine.”

“I doubt he knows how to do that,” Katya says, but it’s good information to have, to file away in the back of her mind. “I don’t know if he’d want to.”

“I don’t think he’d be mean.” Selene stretches her legs in front of her, childish. “And it’d be okay.”

If Katya was any more maternal, she’d smooth away Selene’s hair and press a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll have to talk to him about that yourself, not me.”

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