Page 4 of Fate and Fury

Ana nodded in sympathy, stepping to the side to make way for a small group of Dimis and Shadows hustling down the path. “I’ve never heard anyone shout at Baba, much less threaten her like that,” she said when they passed, her voice hushed. “It was all we could do to restrain the other Shadows from going to his aid. Can you imagine? They would have ripped that cottage apart.”

“We did enough damage on our own.” Katerina knotted her hands in Mika’s reins, and the mare whickered, sensing her tension. “I suppose destroying Baba’s cottage and setting the entire pack of Shadows on a rampage would have been a poor beginning to kohannya.”

Her voice was light, but Ana’s gaze sharpened, nonetheless. “Isthatwhat’s gotten you so out of sorts? This silly ceremony?”

They were on dangerous ground now. Katerina shrugged, as if the answer were simple, obvious. “It just seems so frivolous, knowing what’s out there. We’re ten days from the full Bone Moon. Every day until then, the veil between the living and the dead thins, and the demons find it easier to break through. And the increasing attacks that travelers between villages have reported—the raid on Povorino…” She snorted. “It’s like none of that matters to the Vila. Like none of it’sreal.All they haveto worry about is tending the children and looking pretty, while we…”

She let her voice trail off, afraid of saying too much. Sounding too bitter, because although everything she’d said held a grain of truth, the real reason that this particular kohannya ceremony made her stomach churn was something she could never, ever speak aloud. Not even to Ana. Not to anyone.

“While we fight on the front lines.” Ana finished her sentence. “It’s their role, Katerina. They take pride in it. Just as we take pride in protecting Iriska and the world beyond our borders. You can’t begrudge them that.”

Neither Katerina nor Ana had ever left Iriska. The realm was protected, hidden. Still, though she’d never set foot beyond Iriska’s wards, she knew well what lay beyond: a world filled with innocent humans, unaware of the demonic threat that lurked beneath their feet. As a Dimi, it was her job to make sure theyneverknew—to stop the Grigori from overrunning Iriska and spilling, hungry, into the world beyond, where no one had the tools to defend themselves.

It was a heavy burden, but one she was used to carrying. One the Vila would never have to bear. Though the latent gifts that simmered in their blood empowered them to bear Shadowchildren and Vila, they possessed no magic of their own. They were nurturers, not defenders.

“I suppose I can’t.” Katerina ducked to avoid an overhanging branch. “Maybe I’m just restless. The sooner we go, the sooner I can fail to impress the Kniaz at the Trials and the sooner we can come home.” She forced her voice to sound neutral, not to reveal the fact that she was dreading and looking forward to returning to Kalach in equal measure. Because when they returned, the night of the full Bone Moon, Niko would be betrothed to his Vila.

Chosen for him for her beauty and piety, Elena Lisova was everything Niko needed and deserved. She would be loyal to him, faithful.

She would break Katerina’s heart.

Romantic love between a Dimi and her Shadow was beyond forbidden. The prophecy in the Book of the Light said so, the one every Shadow, Dimi, and Vila learned from the cradle: if a Dimi and Shadow lay together, demon-infested Darkness would fall upon Iriska and overtake the realm. Dictated by the three Saints to their scribes centuries before, the prophecy was sacred. Defying it was unthinkable.

So Niko could never be Katerina’s, not in the way she sometimes dreamed, in the depths of her most secret heart. If he knew she looked at him with the slightest hint of desire, anything beyond the holy bond that tied a Dimi to her Shadow, he would be horrified. And if anyone suspected how Katerina felt about him, the punishment would be swift. She and Niko would be separated, their bond severed, or worse. It would destroy them both.

This was the real reason she was dreading this ceremony. Because today, her Shadow would stand downriver and wait for Elena’s boat to sail into his outstretched hands. And the moment he rescued it from the waters and held it high, he’d be acknowledging that he wanted Elena just as much as she wanted him. That their bond wasn’t simply dictated by Baba and the Elders, a match made for an alpha Shadow to perpetuate the strength of his bloodline—it was something Niko chose, a future he was proudly claiming as his own.

Katerina wanted him to be happy, more than anything. If marrying Elena and giving her Shadowchildren and little Vila was what he dreamed of, she should support him. But how could she, when the thought hurt more than having her magic nearly torn out of her body by the roots?

Her agony must have shown on her face, because Ana squeezed her free hand in solidarity. “You will come home,” she said fiercely. “You will come home, and Baba will unbind your magic, and together we will stand against the Grigori, just like we always have. Whatever threat is rising, we will face it with our Shadows at our side.”

Ana didn’t voice the unthinkable—that Katerina and Niko would die in the arena. It happened, more often than the Kniaz acknowledged. The purpose of the Trials was to single out the strongest among them. If that meant crippling or even killing their rivals, so be it. A Dimi and Shadow pairing that could not stand against their own, or against whatever horrors lurked in the arena to test them, was unworthy of defending Iriska.

Katerina was spared a response, because as Ana finished speaking, they stepped off the path and into the clearing that bordered the river. It buzzed with activity, crowded with Dimis, Vila, Shadows, and villagers alike. Clouds had gathered, heralding a coming storm, and the air was thick with brine, overlaid with the spicy scent of the rowan-fires that burned by Kalach’s borders, to keep the demons away.

Elder Balandin gave an approving nod when she caught sight of Katerina, as if relieved that robbing her of her gifts hadn’t reduced her to a sniveling heap. Baba had no doubt reported the havoc they had wreaked on her cottage, and if Ana spoke true, the Elders had heard Niko’s vociferous objections for themselves. They had no reason to believe the spell had failed, and Katerina intended to keep it that way.

All of the Elders were looking at her now, their gazes heavy with expectation. Elder Mikhailova gazed up at her from his wheeled chair, hands clasped atop the blanket draped over his withered legs and eyes narrowed as if taking her measure. Offering him a small smile that she hoped conveyed both resignation and resilience, Katerina tied Mika up and gave themare a carrot from the saddlebag to keep her happy. Then she and Ana crossed the clearing, joining their fellow Dimis. They stood some way back from the riverbank, in between the cluster of giggling, wide-eyed Vila and the leather-clad, blade-wielding Shadows. Instinctively, she scanned the clearing, looking for Niko, but didn’t see him among his brethren.

As their alpha, it was unusual for him to be separated from his pack in a gathering like this. She opened her mouth to ask Ana where Niko had gone after he’d come to collect Alexei, his second in command—but the words died on her lips as her Shadow emerged from the trees, leading Troitze, his ornery, midnight-black stallion. Alexei strode by his alpha’s side, head tilted as he took in Niko’s last-minute instructions to hold the village in his absence.

Ana had been right: Niko’s jaw was tight, his muscles tensed, as if he were striding into battle rather than about to collect a love token made by his soon-to-be-betrothed. Her friend elbowed her, perilously close to the same spot where she’d poked Katerina earlier. “What did I tell you?” she muttered. “Braced for murder.”

It was true that, unlike the Shadows who stood downriver, loose-limbed and smiling, Niko looked far less at ease. His gaze roved over the crowd, settling first on his pack, who straightened and came to attention under his scrutiny. It flicked over Katerina, lingering long enough to make sure that she was, indeed, unharmed. Guilt flashed through her at not telling Niko the spell hadn’t held—that she was whole. But how could she make him complicit in her deception? Why should they both be punished for her refusal to surrender?

She already kept one secret from her Shadow, after all. What was another?

A hum of excitement arose from the cluster of Vila, and Niko’s eyes left her, seeking its source. Elena stood intheir midst, her buttercup-yellow gown and matching tresses gleaming, as if the sunbeams that broke through the clouds had done so for her benefit alone. She separated from her sisters and walked toward Niko, her face lit with joy.

Katerina forced herself to watch as her Shadow handed Troitze’s reins to Alexei and met Elena in the middle of the clearing. The Vila was as lovely as a storybook princess, with her long, flaxen hair and eyes as blue as the hyacinths that bloomed, defying the lingering touch of winter, on the riverbank at their feet. The perfect disciple of Sant Viktoriya, she was everything Katerina wasn’t: demure, soft, willing to bend to please others. Coming to a halt in front of Niko, she lifted her gaze, dimpling prettily, and held her ornate, gold-painted boat up for his inspection. The wind ruffled the loose tendrils of hair around her face, and she brushed it back, twining the strands around one finger before letting them go.

Niko said something to her, but Katerina couldn’t make it out. Was he telling the Vila how beautiful she looked? How he’d miss her dearly when he was gone? Maybe, Katerina thought, throat tight with misery, he was confessing how he couldn’t wait to be the one to cradle the golden boat in his hands at the end of its maiden voyage—the same hands that had clung to Katerina as if she were something precious in Baba’s cottage not two hours before.

Suppressing the jealousy that clawed at her, Katerina looked away. Her gaze swept over the assembled Vila, Shadows, and Dimis, then shifted right, toward the villagers crowded behind the ribbons Baba’s acolytes had strung up between the trees.

The kohannya ceremony was much-anticipated throughout Kalach; for weeks, children had traded bets on which Shadows would pluck each Vila’s boat from the waters. The little ones jostled for position, clutching boats of their own making: crude hunks of wood that were as likely to sink as swim, paintedbrightly with the pigments of crushed flowers. Behind them stood tradespeople and teachers, seamstresses and blacksmiths, all of whom it was Katerina’s job to protect. Farther down the riverbank stood the small Shadows, Vila, and Dimis, watched over by the married Vila whose kohannya days were behind them.

Thiswas what she was fighting for. These people, who trusted her.

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