Page 25 of Fate and Fury

The Shadowchildren and young Vila and Dimis had come up behind Elena, peering shyly around her skirts. One little Dimi girl in particular, Esther, stared at Katerina with awe.She whispered to the young Vila next to her, whose face took on a similarly worshipful expression. Blind from birth, Halya negotiated Kalach with confidence using a cane that her Shadow father had carved for her from rowanwood. She and Esther were often together, and Katerina had overheard the Dimichild, a gifted artist, painting the world for Halya with words. Surely, she was doing the same thing for the Vila now, describing Katerina and Niko’s glorious return.

Normally, this would have amused Katerina. But now, it terrified her. What if she couldn’t keep Esther or Halya—keep any of them—safe?

As Elena stroked the braids of the children who clung to her, admonishing them to go back to playing in the garden, a chill ran through Katerina. She imagined all of Kalach vanishing into that awful crater, everyone she knew and loved gone. She’d been so worried about being Reaped, but this was far worse.

She swayed, and Niko touched her arm, steadying her. “Baba will feed us,” he said, mistaking her unsteadiness for hunger. “We’ll tell her everything. Then we can go home, wash, and rest.”

Katerina forced a smile. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

She glanced back once as they walked away, Katerina favoring her injured leg. Elena stood on the path, watching them go, her gilded hair shining like sheaves of wheat in the bright sunlight, her expression troubled. A pang of guilt shot through Katerina. As Niko was meant to protect her, so she was meant to protect the Vila. She pushed her uncharitable feelings down, down, down into the depths of her soul, and went to do what must be done.

The only positivething to come out of the destruction of Drezna and the demon-battle on the road was that Katerina’s misstep at the Trials paled in comparison. She and Niko had agreed to spin the truth, saying that when his life was in danger, Katerina’s magic had somehow burst through the constraints of the binding. It had taken her by surprise, she said, so she hadn’t been prepared to guard against it. She’d never meant for this to happen.

Baba Petrova’s initial anger at her lack of control had faded into the background with each word Katerina spoke. By the time she and Niko finished, unspooling the whole ugly story, the Kniaz’s decision to have the two of them advance to the next round of the Trials was the least of Baba’s concerns.

“This bodes no good,” she said, pacing the length of her parlor after they’d told her everything and handed over Baba Volkova’s sigil. The old Dimi had been pacing for so long, it was a wonder she hadn’t worn a hole straight through the floorboards.

Katerina couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t risk mentioning the prophecy; to do so would be to implicate herself, and Niko along with her. And he had done nothing, other than protect her as a Shadow should protect his Dimi. He was innocent in all of this. Not to mention, he’d worked so hard to reclaim his family’s name. How could she drag him into the muck, based on her unforgivable one-sided feelings? But if there was a chance that something else was to blame, a force that could alleviate the awful weight on her chest that threatened to suffocate her, she had to know. “We’ve told you everything,” she said, impatiently. “What can it mean?”

Baba Petrova’s face was as shriveled as a wizened apple. Somehow, the lines in her cheeks managed to carve themselves even more deeply when she said, “I don’t know, Katerina. First, the rise of your powers, in all their complexity and immensity. Now, this. There must be balance in the world, you know that as well as I. You are a great force for the Light; but your power has called, and the Dark has answered.”

What if the ancient Dimi was right that Katerina was the cause of this madness…but for reasons that she would never dream of? Katerina wished desperately that she could talk with Baba in private, to confide in her, but that would be madness. Instead, she hid her horror, pulling sarcasm around her like a shield. “What are you saying? That perhaps I should have done us all a favor and died on that road?”

Baba stopped her pacing and took a gulp of the cooling tea from the porcelain cup on her kitchen table, as if for strength. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m only speaking what’s in front of all our faces. Besides, your ceasing to exist now would do no good at all. The damage has been done.”

Indignation flushed through Katerina’s body, heating her cheeks. Her magic stirred inside her, uneasy, and the air in the cottage stirred along with it, rustling the curtains, feeding the hearth’s flames. The silver samovar that hung from its ring above the fire rattled, the water inside sloshing, and Baba shot her a warning glance.

“I’m not the damage,” Katerina snapped, worry sharpening each syllable. “Thedamageis what we did to those Grigori scum who now line the road to Drezna. Thedamageis what they did to an entire village of innocents, not to mention our fellow Dimis and Shadows!”

“Yes,” Baba said, dismissing Katerina’s temper. “We must grieve for them properly. Mourn them. It’s a terrible blow. But we also need to know more, for our own safety and the safety ofIriska. I’d like you to share everything you’ve told me with the Elder Council; I’ll call a meeting. I’m sure they’ll recommend sending someone to the Magiya. But not the two of you,” she said, before Katerina could speak. “We need you here. And you’ve been through enough.”

Neither Niko nor Katerina had ever been to the Magiya. It was a week’s travel on horseback, in the heart of Volshetska, a mountain fortress, surrounded by the strongest wards imaginable and run by elder Shadows and Dimis who had devoted their lives to scholarship. If the answers to what had happened lay anywhere, it was there.

“If not us, then who?” Niko said, dropping their empty borscht bowls into the washbasin with a clank. Katerina eyed him with surprise; it wasn’t like him to be so argumentative, let alone so careless with Baba’s china—the destruction that he’d wreaked the morning of the failed binding ceremony aside. But he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze flitted between Baba’s face and her front door, as if he suspected a threat might be lurking right outside.

“Nadia and Oriel, probably. It’ll be up to the Council to decide. But the scholars at the Magiya need to know what’s happening. Perhaps they can stop this evil before it spreads.” Baba sank into a chair, downing the dregs of her tea. “And we need to inform the Kniaz. Doubtless he’ll send someone to investigate; the road will have to be cleared for safe passage, and the crater consecrated and sealed. Rivki is on the way to the Magiya; if the Council approves, I’ll have Nadia and Oriel take word. But not tonight, and not tomorrow, either.” She cast her gaze outside, toward the darkening sky. “The dead won’t rest easy in their graves until the Bone Moon passes, and even as we speak, the barrier to the Underworld grows thin.”

Fear seized Katerina at the thought of Nadia and Oriel on that road, alone. “What if something happens to them?”

“We can’t spare anyone else. My hope is that the Kniaz will send them to the Magiya with reinforcements, once he hears what they have to say.” Baba peered down at her sodden tea leaves, as if their pattern might reveal the future. “You did what you had to in the woods, Katerina. I don’t begrudge it, and thank the Saints your magic was no longer bound. Make no mistake, though: People might have overlooked what happened at the Trials. They see what they want to see. But after this, there will be no hiding what you’re capable of.”

“I shouldn’t have to hide it,” Katerina protested. “Niko’s Light and my magic saved us. It saved anyone else that demon horde would have encountered. How can that be a bad thing?”

Sadness swam in the depths of Baba’s faded eyes. “Because you’ve made yourself a target, Katerina, forGadreel,no less. And with you, all of us. You must be cautious where you go now, what you do. For strange things are afoot. I know that without hearing back from the Magiya, and so do you.”

“Wait for it…” Niko muttered, almost to himself.

Katerina glared at him, then lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid.”

Niko sighed. “And there it is.”

Baba Petrova regarded her with an expression that bore a suspicious resemblance to pity. “You should be, Katerina. You should be very frightened indeed. Because now, Gadreel knows that you exist. What you can do. And mark my words…he will come for you.”

Exhaustion permeatedevery fiber of Katerina’s body as she and Niko limped up to the front door of the cottage they shared. It was a blessedly familiar sight, the door painted a vibrant blue to ward off evil and the shingles freshly whitewashed, the trimthat adorned the roof inscribed with protective runes: safety, strength, Light. Elderflowers bloomed in the planters flanking the doors, and the glass chime that hung from the rowan in the front yard sang softly in the breeze.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Everything was just as they had left it: the small wooden table with its white porcelain pitcher; the red rag rug in the center of their living space, with two comfortable chairs weighing it down; the hearth, with its fire banked by one of Baba’s young herbalist apprentices. The pallet where Niko slept was neatly rolled up in one corner, his blue quilt folded next to it. Through an arched doorway, Katerina could see her four-poster bed with its white quilt, a dried spray of lavender hanging above her headboard so nothing would trouble her dreams.

Niko had put it there, after she’d woken screaming from a nightmare of the demon’s teeth sinking into her mother’s throat.To protect you in your sleep,he’d said.Where I cannot.

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