Page 85 of Fate and Fury

A jagged bolt of lightning illuminated the world behind her eyelids. There was a tremendous cracking sound, then a crumbling clatter, as the earth beneath her gave way. The altar shook, and Katerina fell forward, digging the pads of her fingers into the space between the stones. Rose petals swept past her, pelting her face; she could smell their musk, rich with fruit and spice. The world whirred and spun and blazed. And then…all fell still and silent.

Slowly, gingerly, Katerina opened her eyes. The altar had collapsed, and the columns had fallen to their knees. The stones were scattered with rose petals, and though her lantern lay beside her, its flame had gone out. But she didn’t need its light. Because in front of her, the stones had opened wide, revealing a shallow crevasse that gleamed with an illuminated pool of bright, still water. And inside it floated a leather-bound tome, drifting just beneath the surface. On the cover were stamped the wordsBook of the Lost.

Could this truly be the legendary volume her mother had spoken of, buried beneath the stones of the old chapel for safekeeping? Had Katerina’s blood called it to her somehow?

Heart beating in her wrists and chest and throat, Katerina reached into the pool and drew the book out. Somehow, it was bone-dry to the touch. When she opened it, the pages glowed from within, lighting the words inked onto them.

Katerina gasped as she turned page after page. On one, instructions for calling a demon and confining it within a blessed circle. On another, a spell to call the Dark, while still honoring the Saints. On a third, runes for summoning and protection, for strength and fortitude, for containment.

Call ye upon the Dark in need, in service to the Light.Was it possible that, centuries ago, the Saints had concealed this volume here for just such an eventuality? Had they foreseen that the events of the prophecy would come to pass—that such desperate measures might be needed?

This felt too easy, somehow: She had yearned for a miraculous solution, and here it was. But maybe she was overthinking things. Maybe her definition ofeasyhad warped, after what she’d been through. She had stood against the Darkness, after all—stood and won. Was it too much to believe that the Saints had truly heard her prayer?

She wanted revenge and salvation for Niko. This was her chance. In the name of the Light, she would summon Sammael and demand answers. For where he was, Elena would be, and where Elena was, her Shadow would be, also.

If she couldn’t bring Niko to her, she would go to him. She would find him and bring him home and lay his spirit to rest.

Katerina dipped her fingers into the shallow pool. She marked herself with the sacred water, on her forehead and cheeks, over her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered to the Saints. “I will make you proud.”

She slid the book into her bodice, where it rested, safe, beneath Niko’s amulet. Then she relit her lantern, scattered rose petals on her Shadow’s grave, and walked home through the star-studded night.

51

KATERINA

This was how Katerina found herself doing the unthinkable: standing in her bedroom, about to summon a demon.

She’d drawn the shutters tight and pushed the bed against the wall to create a wide expanse where she could cast her circle. Slowly, meticulously, she bent, using the point of one of Niko’s blades to etch the Klyuchi runes from the Book of the Lost into the wooden floorboards. She drew the symbols with care, each loop and angle precise. Who knew what she might summon instead, if she made the slightest mistake?

When she was finished, she stood back and regarded her handiwork. It looked perfect, as far as she could tell—but what did she know? It wasn’t as if she had anyone to ask.

She sank to her knees outside the circle, praying to the Saints for aid. They had given her the precious book. Surely if they understood the nature of her mission, they wouldn’t abandon her. Perhaps then she could open a portal to the demon realms without compromising her soul.

Katerina wanted to do something—anything—but this. But she had just three nights left before the Kniaz’s arrival. Threenights before she would be forced to leave for Rivki, before she’d be bonded to another Shadow. Who knew if she’d be able to reach Niko then?

She could practicallyhearher Shadow’s growl, hear him admonishing her to beware. That this wasn’t worth the risk. But she had no intention of listening.

Wearily, she got to her feet and made her way to the cabinet where his remaining blades were still stored, wrapped in velvet, the way he’d left them when he went to the elderflower clearing to find her that horrible night. He hadn’t taken them with him to the cottage he was meant to share with Elena, and in the aftermath of his death, Baba hadn’t demanded their return. Perhaps she believed they were tainted, like Niko’s soul. Katerina cared little for her own life, but if she died summoning this demon, who would save Niko…assuming he still existed to be saved? His blades weren’t a certainty of protection, but they were insurance, should something go wrong—especially given how unstable her magic had become.

A second blessed blade in hand, Katerina turned to regard the rest of her preparations. The wood that blazed up in her fireplace had been cut from a rowan tree, for an extra layer of protection. She’d memorized the spells in the Book of the Lost and tucked it beneath a loose floorboard, to conceal it if she failed to survive. She’d scar the circle she made with witchfire afterward, to disguise the runes, and push her bed back over the evidence for good measure.

There was nothing left to do. It was time.

Her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe as she made her way over to the protective circle. Her back against the wall, she dragged one deep breath into her lungs, then another. And then she spoke.

“Sant Antoniya. Sant Viktoriya. Sant Andrei. I am Katerina Ivanova. Servant of the Light. Though these runes may be Dark,my purpose is far from evil. I am a Dimi of Kalach, sworn to stand by my Shadow’s side. Look into my soul and hear me, for I call on you for aid.”

The flames in the fireplace flickered in a wavering current of air, though the shutters were closed and bolted. Shadows swarmed from the corners of the room, amassing outside the circle in a vaguely human form. Panic choked Katerina, but she pressed onward.

“Saints, be with me as I call upon the Darkness, as I look into the Void. Be with me as I seek to find what’s rightly mine.” Her voice trembled as she spoke the next words. But she could swear she felt a hand on her shoulder, offering support, and it gave her the courage to continue. “I call on Sammael, Venom of God, ruler among demons. From the Underworld or the Void I call him, from the Darkness that eats all things. Wherever he roams, whatever form he takes, I call him from it. I call him with the power of the Light, and demand he come to me.”

The runes she’d inscribed in the floorboards began to glow. One by one, they lit with silver-blue hellfire. Katerina watched in horror and fascination as the circle completed itself. The last rune blazed up, and her bones ached with power as the spell snapped into place.

She staggered back, fighting to keep her feet. Inside the circle, something was happening. Particles of dust were coalescing, swirling, coming together?—

“Saints be with me,” she murmured again, clutching Niko’s blade. “Give me the strength to do what must be done.”

One second, there was a whirlwind of dust in the circle. The next,hestood there. The red-headed man from the clearing. The one that had impersonated a Shadow.

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