Page 58 of Fate and Fury

“I want to see her,” Katerina said immediately. Maybe there was a clue she could glean, some kind of explanation. She slipped on her shoes and pushed past Natalya and Gregory, heading for the door.

Niko got there first, holding it open for her. She was sure they were thinking the same thing—how Mika had spooked on the road to Drezna. How the mare had returned, lathered and scratched, her normally calm disposition shattered. How Troitze had never come home.

Natalya followed them. “But—but Dimi Ivanova. That’s not all. There…there was a note in the horse’s saddlebags. In Nadia’s writing. Except it was written…written in…”

Katerina grabbed the younger woman by both shoulders and shook her, hard. “Written in what?”

“Her blood,” Natalya whispered. Tears tracked down her cheeks.

A chill ran through Katerina. Her mouth had gone bone dry. “What did it say?”

Natalya was an earthwitch, still gaining control of her magic. The ground beneath their feet trembled as the younger woman bit her lip, then found the courage to speak.

“It said…Tell Katerina. The Darkness is loose. The village of Satvala is gone.”

31

ELENA

Elena slowed her steps as she approached the clearing where the ruined chapel stood, wondering if she was making a terrible mistake.

For seven days, against her deepest instincts, she’d agreed to meet with the demon. He no longer seemed as terrifying as she had once imagined him to be. Over the past week, he had almost come to seem like a friend—even an ally.

Who would have ever thought that a demon would aid Elena in her battle against the Darkness? Yet here they were, with him giving her the very tools she needed to rescue her Shadow. The old ways had been shattered, and together, he and Elena were ushering in the dawn of a new age. A holy age, where she could command the power of a Dimi.

Still, each time she went to meet him, she fought with herself over the decision. And each time, she came to the same conclusion: this was meant to be, gifted to her by the Saints. For Sammael had revealed something wondrous to her. He had shown her what she was truly capable of. She would use this power to defeat Katerina and reclaim her Shadow. She would prove her love to Niko, and he would love her in return.

Surely, when Baba Petrova saw what Elena had achieved, when she learned the truth about Katerina, she would banish the Dimi and find a true disciple of the Light worthy of Niko. After Elena and Niko married, there would be a week left before they left for Rivki. Sammael had promised her that by then, she’d be strong enough to stand against the Dimi, and he, Sammael, would stand with her. Elena wouldn’t allow Katerina to rob her of her destiny. She would ride out to Rivki with her Shadow by her side, joined to a new Dimi. All of Iriska would know Elena as the Vila who saved her Shadow’s soul and delivered the realm from the Dark.

Decided, she strode the final steps into the clearing where the ruined chapel stood. Sammael was waiting for her, pacing in front of the stones. When he spotted her, his face lit with a smile. “I worried you weren’t coming,” he said.

“Me, too,” Elena said, giving him a hesitant smile in return. “But here I am.”

“And I’m glad of it. I brought you this.” He extended a ripe peach to her, his eyes crinkling when hers widened. “You told me of the blight. That the villagers are hungry. Farther to the south, near the lava fields, no such blight exists. I thought you might enjoy this.”

Mindful of her manners, Elena did her best not to snatch it from his hand. “Thank you,” she murmured, accepting the peach. It was sun-warmed, its skin yielding tart sweetness as she took a bite. The rich juice ran down her chin in a sticky stream, and Sammael laughed.

“If I’d known it would make you this happy, I would have done this sooner,” he said, his tone indulgent. “Here; I brought you this as well.”

He bent, opening the lid of a small basket at his feet. Inside were three perfect rolls, a second peach, and a small flask. “For you,” he invited.

And so Elena found herself doing the unthinkable: sitting in the grass under the spring sun, having a picnic with a demon. As her empty belly filled, she found it hard to believe he was as evil as everyone said. Maybe he was just…misunderstood.

When she’d finished eating and washed the food down with ale from the flask, Elena turned her face up to the sun, letting its rays bathe her skin. She felt him watching her, but his gaze wasn’t threatening. Instead, it was appreciative, as if she were a fine work of art.

“Elena,” he said at last.

“Yes?” Her breath caught in her throat; was he about to say something that would make her regret all of this? Something that would reveal his true, wicked nature?

But all Sammael said was, “Are you ready to continue our lessons from yesterday?” He gestured to the knives he’d laid in a line on the remains of the altar.

Elena’s heart picked up speed as she nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.”

“Then let us begin,” the demon said, excitement clear in his voice.

Elena closed her eyes, concentrating. She focused so hard, her body shook. When she opened her eyes, the knives that Sammael had laid in a line on the ruined altar rose, one at a time, to hover in the air. They turned to point at the demon, a phalanx of airborne blades.

He gave a triumphant laugh. “Good. Very good indeed. Have you been practicing?”

---