Page 1 of Fate and Fury

1

KATERINA

In Katerina Ivanova’s twenty-one years, she had been many things.

A witch, certainly. The strongest Dimi that the dukedom of Iriska had known in three centuries, able to command all four elements rather than just fire, wind, water, or earth.

A protector, sworn alongside her blood-bonded Shadow to defend Iriska from Grigori demons, hungry to devour their souls.

A secret-keeper, along with everyone else in her village of Kalach. For if the Kniaz—the duke who ruled Iriska and its Seven Villages—discovered what Katerina could do, he would covet her beyond measure. Damn the Trials; he would have Reaped her years ago for his own, and left Kalach without its best defender.

And above all, a liar and a traitor. For if Baba Petrova, the Elder Council, and—Saints forbid—the Kniaz himself knew the truth of what her heart harbored, her death would be swift.

But never, except for once, long ago, had she been weak. Her mother had died because of it, and Katerina had never forgiven herself. Now here she was, preparing to let Baba bind her magic.Hobbling herself on purpose, and risking the death of the man she loved most.

She watched as Baba knelt in front of the fireplace, dipping her fingertips into a bowl of ash. The ancient Dimi traced a circle on her cottage’s wooden floorboards, just large enough to hold Katerina and her Shadow. Above her, from the ceiling’s blackened crossbeams, swayed thin-skinned braids of garlic, for healing, and ropes of gray-green sage, for purification.

There would be no healing what Baba was about to do to her, not until the old Dimi decided to break the binding. As for purification, as far as Katerina was concerned, it was far too late. She’d lost her heart to a man who was off-limits long ago, and every time she looked at him, she was reminded of how much she craved his body. Good luck purifyingthatwith a handful of dried herbs and a prayer to the long-dead Saints.

Unable to help herself, she glanced across the hearth at her Shadow. Eight years ago, she and Niko had stood in this very room, beside a cauldron seething with ink and blood, sealing their vows as Shadow and Dimi. Then, he had regarded her with barely tempered eagerness; now, his expression was guarded, his face carefully blank. He didn’t like this any better than she did, but he would endure it, for the sake of the village. Of the two of them, he had far more to lose by rebelling.

Baba’s knobbly finger completed the circle, and the power within it snapped into place: a low hum that set Katerina’s teeth on edge.

Next would come the rune. Then the binding spell.

She was running out of time.

Katerina drew a deep breath, letting the layered air fill her lungs: the burn of herbs, the bite of the oil Niko used to cure his blades, the smoke of the rowan-fire as it curled upward. “There has to be another way,” she said for the umpteenth time since Baba and the Elders had demanded she do the unthinkable. “Ican control myself. If you trust me to fight for Iriska, then surely you believe I can command my gifts.”

The words emerged haughty, a challenge rather than an entreaty, and Niko arched one dark eyebrow in warning. Along with the Elders, Baba’s word was law. Arguing would get Katerina exactly nowhere. And yet she couldn’t help herself.

Baba Petrova was a small, gnarled woman who had long fought on the front lines of their war against the Grigori. Her back was bent now, her face wrinkled, and she spent more time training Dimis and Shadows than patrolling the village’s borders. Still, her air of authority was formidable. It rolled off her in waves as she straightened and glared at Katerina.

“You are wasting time,” she said.

Irritation bubbled through Katerina’s veins, and, as if to disprove her point, the fire in the hearth leapt high in response. Now, it was Baba’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

Katerina ignored her. “With the rise in attacks, how is it wise to send us to Rivki hobbled, with me only having the use of my fire? What if we encounter demons on the road? Why cripple us like this?”

Next to her, Niko made a disgruntled noise low in his throat, perilously close to his black dog’s growl. “Are you insinuating that I can’t protect you, Katerina?”

For a Shadow, blood-sworn to fight beside his Dimi and stand between her and evil in his human form or the form of his black dog, there was no greater insult. And Niko was the alpha of the village’s Shadow pack. Such an accusation pierced his pride, Katerina knew. And yet?—

“We protect each other,” she said, meeting his storm-gray eyes. “We fighttogether.”

As they would in the Bone Trials at Rivki Island, the seat of Iriska’s dukedom. As they had been commanded by the Kniaz to do.

Baba didn’t reply. Instead, she knelt to draw the rune. Freed from her scrutiny, Niko took the moment to mouth,What are you doing?at Katerina.

She hazarded a glance at him, then wished she hadn’t. He’d tied his hair back with a piece of rawhide, baring the scar that ran from his chiseled jaw to his temple, earned in a fight to protect their village from Grigori invasion. Above it, his eyes gleamed silver in the sunlight, piercing through her defenses as they always did. She couldn’t afford for him to look at her like that. Not now, when she had so much to hide.

What I must, she mouthed back, and looked away.

Putting the finishing touch on the rune’s complicated angles, Baba stood. “It’s because of the rise in Grigori attacks that I must do this,” she said. “You know as well as I do that the two of you are Kalach’s best defense. We need you here, not at the Kniaz’s right hand, great as the honor may be. Perhaps if you didn’t want to be summoned to the Trials, you would have endeavored to make yourself less appealing to the Kniaz the last time you delivered the tithe.”

Her voice was mild, but Katerina bristled just the same. Held every other year, the Trials pitted a powerful Dimi and Shadow pairing from each of the Seven Villages against each other. Two victorious pairs would advance to the second round the following year, taking the interim twelve months to train. The winning pair would be selected to expand the Druzhina—Iriska’s elite warriors and the Kniaz’s personal guard against the demons who threatened their borders. And in so doing, leave their village behind.

She had tried so hard to be ordinary each time she and Niko went to Rivki. To avoid drawing undue attention. But the Kniaz had noticed her, anyway. And now here she was, about to submit to a barbaric rite, just because Baba and the Elders didn’t believe she had the self-possession to suppress her magic under duress.

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