Page 75 of Fate and Fury

Around her, suspicious murmurs rose. Then more hands were on her, their touch gentle, familiar. “Come, Katerina. Let Alexei take him,” Ana coaxed, her voice breaking. “You can’t stay here.”

Katerina lifted her head, blinking back tears, to see Ana and her Shadow kneeling on the cobblestones. Alexei’s gaze was dark with grief, but his hands were steady as he reached for his alpha’s broken body. And Katerina had to trustsomeone. Swiping her fingers beneath her eyes, she gave a sharp nod of acquiescence, and Alexei lifted Niko in his arms.

She walked next to Alexei, Ana, and her fallen Shadow, following Baba to the old woman’s cottage—a silent funeral procession. The crowd parted for them, their accusatory, shocked gazes fixed on Katerina. Let them stare, then. She deserved every bit of their ire.

Niko had died saving her life. Because of her, he was dead.

Baba held the door for Alexei when they reached her cottage and he stepped through, careful of Niko’s sprawling limbs. At the ancient Dimi’s direction, he set his alpha on the hearth rug, and Katerina went to Niko at once, lifting his head into her lap. He wouldn’t be alone for an instant, not if she could help it.

Baba tsked, her frail shoulders heaving in a massive sigh. “Katerina?—”

“No!” She shook her head, her matted red curls sticking to her face. “I won’t leave him.”

“Sant Antoniya, help us,” Baba muttered, touching the rowan cross that hung next to the door. “The two of you”—she gestured at Ana and Alexei—“out.”

Casting Katerina a troubled glance, Ana lingered for an instant. Then she touched her Shadow’s arm, and Alexei stepped away, bowing his head. The front door snicked shut behind them, and an instant later, Baba was in front of Katerina, kneeling on the hearth rug.

“What has happened?” she demanded, each syllable a razor blade. “Is this as bad as it looks?” When Katerina didn’t answer, Baba gripped her shoulder. “Letgoof him, Katerina. Sit up and speak to me.”

Katerina folded herself over Niko protectively. “No. You can’t have him. No.”

Another massive sigh, and then Baba stood, her joints creaking. There was the clatter of china, the splash of water, and then the sensation of something warm against Katerina’s chilled fingers, penetrating the awful numbness that had encased her. “Tea,” Baba said simply. “Take it.”

Katerina protested, but Baba forced the cup into her hand nonetheless. She clutched it, trembling so hard that the contents spilled all over Niko’s bloodied face. The scent of ginger wafting from the mug reminded her of the first time her Shadow hadkissed her. How had it come to this? How had everything gone so horribly wrong? It had to be a nightmare; it couldn’t be real.

And yet it was. The hollow in her soul where her Shadow should be, the ache and stab of their severed bond—all of it meant this was no dream.

There was no fixing this. No turning back. Niko was gone, and now, Iriska would fall.

She sobbed until she couldn’t catch her breath, her throat aching and the tea sloshing everywhere. Dimly she was aware that it was hot, burning her fingers, but so what? At least she could feelsomethingother than this awful grief, a rabid animal that clawed at her insides, fighting to be set free. She spilled it again, this time deliberately, and reveled in the pain.

“Katerina!” Baba said, snatching the cup away. “Pull yourself together. And speak.”

There was no point in lying. Baba had already seen too much. Struggling to stem her sobs, her voice a rasp, Katerina told the old witch everything.

The old woman listened without interruption, her expression growing increasingly grim. “Oh, Katerina,” she said at last, knotting her gnarled fingers in her lap. “You have doomed us all.”

“I—” Katerina tried, but Baba cut her off.

“You have spoken. Now it’s my turn.” She rose, slamming Katerina’s cup down on the table with so much force, the china cracked in two. “It’s bad enough that you’ve done this. Your blatant disregard for your duty, your violation of the prophecy and your thoughtlessness for Iriska, let alone Kalach—that is sin enough. But the display you made in the square…that is just stupidity. You are many things, but I never thought to call you brainless, Katerina.”

Deep inside Katerina, where the capacity for indignation still lived, a spark flared. “You call me ‘brainless,’ because I grieve myShadow?” she snapped, her voice still thick with tears. “Well, I would rather be bereft of a brain than a heart.”

“You are afool!” Baba glowered at her. “Had you not made such a public display of your illicit actions, we could have kept them secret from the villagers. Now, all those who were in the square when you returned will have spread the word that you lay with your Shadow, and brought disaster upon us all. They will see you not as their protector, but as their undoing—and they are likely right. There will be no hiding it. Instead, there will be chaos.”

Katerina’s nails dug into the ripped linen of Niko’s shirt. “What do I care how it looks? This is thetruth.I am to blame, and I take responsibility for what I’ve done. But I won’t renounce my Shadow. My love for him is pure, prophecy or no prophecy.”

The floorboards shook beneath Katerina as Baba’s power rose, her cheeks purpling with fury. “This is not about you, Katerina! This is about our people. You have been unbelievably selfish. And now, not only you, your Shadow, and Elena, but all the rest of us, will pay the price.”

She knelt once more, the ground trembling in warning. “Let him go now, Katerina. Say goodbye to your Shadow. And pray, if you still believe the Saints will listen, that the Kniaz will spare your life.”

They buriedNiko outside the small village cemetery late the next day, in unconsecrated ground. Normally, the entire village would turn out for the burial ceremony of a Shadow, to honor his commitment to Kalach. But even though he had died giving his life to save Katerina, his death wasn’t considered an honorable one. And so only his Shadow brethren and their Dimis, a smallgroup of Vila, and Baba Petrova had come to see his body lowered into the ground. If Katerina hadn’t been so numb, it would have filled her with rage to see him being dishonored this way. Her Shadow, who deserved a hero’s farewell. But there was nothing she could do, other than stand silent witness. Certainly no one was interested in hearing what she had to say.

She stood alone, not daring even to meet Ana’s eyes. She hadn’t spoken to her friend since the other Dimi had persuaded her to let Alexei carry Niko’s body. And frankly, she was afraid to try. If even Ana wanted nothing to do with her, then Katerina truly had no one.

Alyona was bracketed by the other Vila, her face stark with shock and grief and her hands trembling with the nerves that had dogged her as long as Katerina could remember. Her companions all stared at Katerina with accusatory eyes. It made her want to scream. Did no one hold Elena responsible in the least for her actions? Yes, ultimately this devastation could be laid at Katerina’s feet. But no one had made the Vila listen to what the demon Sammael had to say. No one had forced her to hatch the misguided plan that had led to Niko’s death rather than going to Baba and confessing what she’d seen.

There had been a seed of Darkness inside Elena all along, hidden beneath the coy, charming surface she showed the world, like rot at the heart of a rose. But no one cared to acknowledge that Elena’s corruption had begun with a choice. It was, Katerina reflected as she fought to keep her face expressionless and her spine straight, far easier for them to blame her: Niko was dead and Elena was gone. Here she stood, a convenient scapegoat who had brought ruination upon Iriska. It was far easier to blame Katerina than to admit the role Elena had played in her own undoing…and everything that followed.

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