Page 25 of Katya and the Young God

“Haven’t seen him do it out here,” Rory says in return. “Is he going to bring that wolf into a cave?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Katya all but blurts out, as they both watch Pieter clip a harness onto the dog, with small side pouches, which he fixes what looks like dog food into. Incongruous, she sees him slip his car keys into the dog’s harness, giving them a little pat. As if this is normal.

Rory shrugs. “The cave might be holy. A dog shouldn’t walk through it.”

At his car, Pieter finally looks up, and his eyes immediately snap to where Katya sits on the curb. As if, somehow, she’s the highest threat to him there.

Considering how no one else was holding him at gunpoint, it’s not entirely an unfair assessment.

He scowls at her, and Stepan the dog spots her and immediately bounds over, tongue lolling out.

“Oh no,” Katya whispers under her breath, just as about eighty pounds of dog hits her, his paws going up on her shoulders, licking her face.

If she wasn’t already sitting on the curb, she’d be easily knocked over.

There’s a shocked silence over the small gathering in the dawn light, as the dog enthusiastically wiggles at her, but she gets her hand under the collar and pulls the dog down.

“It’s okay, just don’t jump,” she whispers to the dog, and everyone is staring at her, all over the dog, and her skin crawls under the attention. “It’s okay, dogs love me,” she calls out, and the tension breaks. A few people chuckle, turn away, go back to inspecting their packs.

Pieter strides over, eyes narrowed, and Stepan the dog immediately forgets about Katya and jumps at him. Because he’s a dog and sees no reason not to love everyone, no matter what their background or why people don’t like each other.

With one look, Rory scrambles up and away, leaving Katya sitting there alone.

And she’s not going to get up, not going to give him any sort of reverence, no matter what he might be used to in this crowd.

He clearly expects a reaction from her, as he stands a few feet away, and his scowl turns from menacing to slightly puzzled. Lost.

“Your dog shows up on my porch sometimes,” Katya says, because she would rather not have a Demigod looking at her like that. “He’s a good dog.”

That’s clearly not the answer that Pieter expects, and he shifts his weight back, blinking at her. “You wrote that note,” he says quickly, and it’s not a huge leap for him to come to that conclusion. “He got out during the storm.”

“I didn’t exactly want you coming for me when your dog got back late,” she says, couching things in sarcasm to stop her hands from shaking. “You slammed me into the wall when I looked at him wrong, I wasn’t taking any risks.”

The sullen scowl comes back, like the memory isn’t exactly one he’s proud of. “How many extra weapons did you even bring?” He asks, his eyes going to her hair, then, deliberate, to the heel of her boot. Like he could sense it there.

“Extra implies they won’t be useful,” Katya says, as casually as she can.

“What you’re looking for under there won’t be tamed by those weapons,” he says, voice low and warning, before he strides away, Stepan the dog following close behind him, and Katya waits until he’s far enough away before exhaling.

He didn’t kill her at first opportunity. That’s a good sign.

After another few seconds, she climbs to her feet, testing the weight of the bag, before swinging it over her shoulders.

Like predicted, it pulls against her bad shoulder, and she’ll feel it after days of walking with it, but there’s nothing she can do about it, not really.

“You just told him off about his dog, and you’re still alive.” Behind her, Feketer stands, a faded baseball cap shoved over his pointed ears. “Christ, how are you still here.”

Katya shrugs, testing the feel of the straps, looking for any tension points or spots they’ll rub her raw. “Did you bet I would drop out?”

He looks briefly discomfited, before nodding. “It’d be smart.”

“People don’t generally call me smart,” she says, and there’s enough of the small group watching her that she wants to throw in the towel right then. “Betting against me is a bad idea.”

Feketer’s eyebrows rise, ever so slightly, at the show of bravado. “I see.”

JD claps his hands, and it’s easily the most annoying quirk that Katya has seen in a while.

“So our human guides are already up there, they camped overnight so they can set up the base camp properly,” he says, and he’s bright-eyed and cheery for the early morning. “They’re used to this, this sort of hike they can do in their sleep.”

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