Page 109 of Cry of the Firebird

"I sent Völundr's soul to Tartarus, the worst place in the Underworld that I could possibly find. That's why you were having nightmares today. The darkness of it touched you. I can't believe I was so foolish!"

"You had been tortured, Trajan. I can deal with the nightmares if you can," Anya said.

Trajan tucked her hair behind her ears, holding her face gently in his hands.

"For one so young, you know and have seen so much," he whispered sadly. "You've lived. You have suffered and seen death and darkness, but your soul burns with light. Being close to a creature like me will only make it worse. You'll always be living with death. I don't ever want that light in you to go out."

Trajan was so earnest that Anya leaned forward and kissed him softly. His eyes had widened in surprise before he pulled her down onto the floor with him and held her tight.

"I thought you were dead when I saw you hanging from that wall," he whispered urgently against her hair. "I was so frightened that I was too late."

"Don't talk about it," Anya said as she looked at his face above her. She reached up to stroke his temple where the fine lines under his eyes crinkled.

He gently kissed her cheek and brow. "Even after days of captivity, you are still so lovely," he said.

"You're a terrific liar," Anya teased. She had seen her bruised face in the mirror earlier. "I think Völundr's games with you must have given you brain damage."

"I don't have brain damage. I can see you for what you are. Your soul glows in my mind like a supernova." Trajan stroked her damaged face lightly. "The bruises on your skin don't diminish it even a little."

"You really know how to make a girl blush."

"Not all girls, just you." Trajan grabbed some thick white pillows from the couch and propped them under her before covering her with a caramel-colored cashmere blanket. She pulled him close again and ran her hands under the dark blue waistcoat he wore.

"I promise not to wake screaming in your face if you sleep next to me tonight," Anya said, snuggling into him and breathing in his autumn scent, letting it calm her like it always did.

Anya fell into a dream,although it didn't feel dream-shaped to her or like a memory. Everything was too sharp and vivid. She could smell the forest and land at her feet.My land.

In the distance, she saw the black scorch mark of what remained of her barn and a small house. She never thought she would see the day that she would miss the farm, but her heart soared to see it.

Anya froze when she saw Vasilli standing next to a robust older man with silvery gray hair hanging to his waist. Neither of them looked her way or seemed to notice she was there.

"Have you heard from him yet?" Vasilli demanded irritably.

"No, but the Nehemoth has been released, and it will use the hair we recovered to track her."

"Yes, but the Nehemoth goes back to wandering the spirit worlds once it completes its assigned task. You should have let me go, Ladislav. I know my brother and Anya and their tricks. That piece of shit Völundr can't be trusted," Vasilli growled.

"None of us are to be trusted. He's loyal, though, and his loyalty is to me. You are loyal because you have no other choice."

Vasilli's fists clenched at his sides. "I am loyal."

"The only thing you have ever been loyal to is the dead princess. Move on, Vasilli."

"Once Anyanka is caught, many things will change. She will come into her birthright quickly if she doesn't fight us too much, and then you'll have to watch your back. If she's anything like Yanka, she will surpass you within a year," Vasilli warned.

"I'm not concerned about Anya or her talents. I'm concerned about this." Ladislav held out his hand, and the invisible wall in front of him shimmered red for a moment. "It's weakening. Within a month, it will open, and if we can stop anyone interfering, we'll finally control it, and the Darkness will claim both worlds completely, bringing a new age of belief and worship."

His voice was hungry and determined. They were silent for a long while, contemplating before Ladislav shook himself. "Let's go, Vasilli. I feel too exposed here."

"It's the Venäläinen ghosts watching us," Vasilli said, taking obvious enjoyment in Ladislav's discomfort. Ladislav grunted before heading back into the forest, Vasilli following him obediently.

The snow was falling, and Anya shivered, curling her body in to shield herself from the biting wind. She turned back to inspect the house's charred ruins and screamed when she saw they were whole once more.

A tall man walked across the field in front of her. His long golden hair was tied back, and his green eyes shone with anger when he saw the creatures that had appearing on the side of the invisible wall Ladislav had just inspected.

He turned and looked straight through Anya, but she knew who he was…Ilya. She had seen a picture of him in a locket she had left behind. Power flowed out of him so strongly she could feel the magic streaming through the air. He stopped beside her, and she wanted to reach out and touch him.

Now that he was closer, she could see his high cheekbones and the golden stubble on his face. He looked like a lost Viking god.

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