Page 100 of Cry of the Firebird

"She doesn't look like much of a shamanitsa to me," he grunted.

"I don't feel like one right now. Why are you two here?" Anya asked.

"They want what they always want. Our magic and our secrets," the grimy Ovinnik spat. "Our blood and our souls. They want the secrets of my fire sprite nature, but I will give them nothing."

Anya swallowed down her fear and tried to think. "Do you know where we are?"

"Paris, but exactly where, I don't know. I do know there's a water canal close to us. I can smell it. If I could reach it, I would be free." Tears leaked out of the Shishiga's black eyes. Where they fell on her cheeks, the pale blue skin healed itself. Anya hugged her knees to her chest tightly and didn't ask any more questions.

Katya? Katya?Anya tried to reach out with her mind, but she didn't feel a connection.

A scream shook the walls, jolting her out of her head. The Shishiga curled into a tight ball, her hair around her as a cover,and the Ovinnik began to mutter curses, but he too tried to make himself even smaller.

Anya's iron manacles clunked and dragged on the floor, but it couldn't be helped. The fear and despair in the room were threatening to choke her, but she couldn't allow it to.

Trajan and Yvan will find you if you don't escape first.You just need to keep calm. Be smart, she told herself.

Anya's head was still pounding, and she felt dopey like she had been drugged. She flexed her hands, and for the first time in weeks, she couldn't feel the magic running under her skin. Fresh panic rose up through her, and she pressed a hand to her chest as she nearly doubled over from lack of air.

The door to the room suddenly opened, and Anya stood up, straight and defiant. The most colorless person she had ever seen walked in. He was of average height and build, his fair hair cut short. His gray eyes were pale, almost white, and utterly devoid of all emotion. If eyes were the window to the soul, then no soul was home. Anya fought not to shudder under their gaze.

"Anyanka, we meet at last," he said, his voice holding touches of a Swedish accent. "I am Völundr."

"You are not who I was expecting," she answered evenly.

"You thought Vasilli had managed to catch you at last? Clearly, he's more incompetent than I thought. I managed to catch you quite easily, didn't I?"

"What was that thing you sent after me?" she demanded. "It was man shaped but made entirely of smoke and shadows."

"The Nehemoth? That was a trick of Ladislav's that he sent from Moscow. I'm merely here in a delivery capacity. I intend you to be quite useful to me before I give you up."

"I'm not going to help you with anything, you sadistic bastard," Anya spat. He grabbed her around the throat with a speed she didn't anticipate. She clawed at his hands, but Völundr held her firm.

"I may be under orders not to kill you, Yanka's blood, but that doesn't mean I have to deliver you completely without damage."

He let go of her with a strong push that sent her back against the wall. She fell to her knees, gasping for air. Something sharp stabbed her in the neck, and the last thing she saw was Völundr standing over her with a syringe.

There was water dripping somewhere.The steady sound began pulling Anya from her heavily drugged sleep. The misty droplets from the rain outside were being blown through the unevenly boarded broken window, and the Shishiga next to her was making soft mewing sounds as the moisture in the air revived her.

Anya clutched her head, a migraine pressing in on her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spotted the Ovinnik shivering and shrunken.

"How long was I out?" Anya asked groggily. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls.

"About eight hours," the Shishiga said. "I wouldn't fight them anymore if I were you. They will just keep putting poison into you."

Anya shook her numb hands and sensed a very low flicker of magic under her skin. She stretched her hand out towards the large water bowl, and it shifted a little off the boards. She had to have something to drink before her migraine worsened. She tried again, and the power trickled out of her. The bowl lifted a few centimeters off the floor and floated slowly over to her. Anya caught it and took a long sip. The water was stale but tasted good enough.

Summoning what strength she had left, Anya floated the bowl over to the Shishiga. The creature took it and started to cry with relief.

"They will know you did this," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter. If you can escape through the windows, do it," Anya replied.

The Shishiga placed her manacled hands into the bowl. They seemed to dissolve and rematerialized without the iron around them. She did her feet one at a time until she was free.

"I won't forget this, Yanka's blood," she promised.

"Just hurry before they catch you," the Ovinnik urged.

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