Page 35 of Cry of the Firebird

Izrayl laughed bitterly. "You missed the last two world wars, but the Darkness kicked off both of them. The supernatural war was going on behind the real one. Humans were puppets or cannon fodder as the Illumination and the Darkness fought for control of the human world. They have had a tentative peace treaty since the '50s, but it's only a matter of time before they kick off again. They can't help themselves, and if Vasilli gets the firebird's magic? It's guaranteed."

Anya took a big mouthful of her vodka. She didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry that a whole world existed in the shadows that no one knew about. She hit her mental wall and started to laugh, a mirthless sound that made the rest of them pause.

"So what you're all trying to say is because of some vision Ilya had years ago, you think I'm going to be able to have enough power to defeat Vasilli for good? I'm not trained to act normal, let alone be able to act magical. I don't even know how to control the gates on the farm!" she argued. She wasn't prophecy or hero material.

"If Vasilli were sure you are the woman from the prophecy, he would've grabbed you when you first met. Because your magic was so dormant, he mustn't have thought you a big enough threat to worry about. He'll realize soon enough," Izrayl said grimly. "He's always been smart and vicious. He'll figure it out, and then you'll be hunted more fiercely than Yvan and the firebird ever was because of Yanka. She was so powerful that tsars, gods, and kings from all of the Otherworlds sought her counsel."

"It must have been Yanka in the dream about the tsar. Tuoni said that memories are lost in the blood flowing through my veins," Anya said with a sudden realization.

"What dream?" they all asked at once.

"The one I was having when you woke me because I was sending out a signal or something," Anya reminded Yvan. "I was dreaming about Yanka and a battle."

"How could you have let such a thing slide past your attention?" Trajan reprimanded Yvan.

"She never told me what it was about! We were in Baba Yaga's forest, and she was sending a beacon in every direction. All I could think of was getting her out of there as quickly as possible," Yvan replied.

"Tell us what the dream was about. It's important," Trajan said.

"I dreamed I was her," Anya tried to explain. "She was predicting the outcome of a battle for a tsar who had kidnapped her. She told him the army would win, but she didn't say she foresaw his death. He let her go, and then I was on a hill with Tuoni. And then Yvan woke me up. I don't know who the tsar was."

"I do. It was Yvan's great-grandfather," Trajan said.

Yvan froze. "What are you talking about?"

"Ilya's prophecy has bothered me for centuries, so I researched Yanka as much as I could. Most stories say she was the daughter of a king. Her sister was sent to marry your great-grandfather as part of a peace treaty. The tsar had wanted Yanka, but her father refused to give her up because of her magical gifts. When the tsar went warmongering once more, he must've captured Yanka and forced her to predict the battles for him. I'm only guessing, though. There's no way to verify it because none of the stories were the same."

"He raped her," Anya added quietly. "That's why she hated him so much."

"Did she fall pregnant from it?" Yvan asked quietly, his hand clenched in hers.

"There's no way to know. I'm sure if she had fallen pregnant, she would have aborted it. None of the stories mentioned a bastard child," Trajan said.

Yvan buried his head in his hands and groaned. "I don't think I can take any more of this. My mind feels like it's splitting apart."

"Good to know I'm not alone," Anya said, patting his back. Tears were building up in her throat, and if she drank any more, she knew she would spend the next day throwing up. Her head was spinning with so much information that she regretted demanding they tell her everything at once.

"We've been running for days, and I can't…I can't do this anymore without sleep," Yvan said and got up.

"I agree with Yvan. I'm going to bed," Anya replied. She was exhausted, emotional, and wanted to be alone.

"Well, I'm getting drunk," Cerise said, grabbing what was left of the vodka bottle.

"Do you have everything you need?" Trajan asked, his dark eyes filled with worry.

"I'll be fine. Thank you, everyone, for telling me," Anya said, getting to her feet.

Yvan put a steadying hand under her elbow as she swayed. "Let's go,shamanitsa, before you pass out on the floor," Yvan said, helping her up the stairs.

"What a fucking night," she slurred.

"I have a feeling tomorrow isn't going to be any easier."

"Can't you lie to me for once?"

"No. You've been lied to enough, and that's why life is so hard now," Yvan replied, ever the voice of reason. When they got to her room, Anya hesitated and then hugged him awkwardly.

"Thank you for not leaving me in the forest," she said, into his chest. "What happened between Yanka and your grandfatherdoesn't matter. You're still my friend. Nothing they did can change that."

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