Page 22 of Cry of the Firebird

Vischto trotted beside him. "There's a camp up ahead with a horse you can use."

"Good. Make a distraction," Vasilli commanded. He stopped outside the camp to watch and wait. The Red Rider was cooking by a fire, and Vasilli grinned. A horse and a chance to piss off Baba Yaga at the same time? The day was looking better and better.

Vischto's howl broke through the still night, and Vasilli rushed into the camp, grabbing the Rider's spear and driving it deep into his gullet.

"Not again," the Rider mumbled, sagging into the dirt.

"Give the witch my thanks," Vasilli said, twisting the spear in further.

The Rider coughed out a bloody laugh. "You'll be able to thank her yourself."

Vasilli ignored the threat, pulled himself into the saddle, and disappeared into the night. He could sense the firebird's magic close. If he hurried, he would have them by dawn.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Anya's lungs burned as she struggled to keep up with Yvan's long strides. They hadn't stopped running since Baba Yaga had dismissed them, and the only thing that kept Anya going was the fear of meeting the Black Rider.

"I can't believe she didn't strike you down for being so disrespectful to her," Yvan said, slowing their pace. "This is so much worse than I thought."

"Why? She seemed helpful enough when we offered her something she wanted," Anya replied.

Yvan shook his head. "You don't understand. That was too easy, Anya. She offered to teach you, which means she wants you."

"If she's so powerful, why didn't she just take me?"

"Because she wants you to join her of your own volition. It means something is coming that she will want allies for, and with Yanka as a matriarch of your bloodline, she knows what your potential could be. Fuck, I forgot all about Yanka. Ilya had a falling-out with her but never said why." Yvan pushed his hands through his hair with a hiss of frustration. "I've been asleep too long. I don't know what's happening in the worlds."

"Okay, so we find out. Let's worry about it when we get to safety," Anya said, hurrying him along. She didn't need him freaking out because he was the only one of them who knew how to navigate Skazki. Now that they were away from her, the meeting with Baba Yaga seemed almost surreal. How many shocks could somebody take in one week?

Anya silently followed Yvan until he paused in the middle of a dirt road.

"Look there. We are close," he said, pointing at the village in the distance.

Anya laughed a little in relief, refusing to turn back to look at the dark, watchful forest behind her. "Let's hope they have hot water."

The village was quiet as they approached a tavern and stepped inside. It was filled with drinkers who reminded Anya of the old men from home. They were rough farmers and tradesmen, their overalls and heavy woolen jackets stained with dirt. The room had a smoky air of filthiness created by the small clay pipes they smoked.

"We need a room," Yvan told a man behind the bar. "We also need hot food if there's any left."

"Where are you coming from?" he asked suspiciously.

"Through the forest. We've had a rough few nights. Please, a room."

The barman looked like he would argue, then he saw the look in Yvan's eyes and thought better of it. He grunted, "Up the stairs, first door on the right. There's a washhouse if your woman needs it."

Anya made a little snort of disgust at the 'your woman' comment before disguising it as a cough. The barman yelled at a thin woman who hurried them upstairs and let them into a small room with one bed, a pine chair, and a fireplace.

"I'll bring food up shortly," she said, handing Anya a towel. She curtsied to Yvan before hurrying from the room.

"I wonder if there's a seamstress in town," Yvan said, sinking down on the edge of the bed. "We are going to need clothes and some supplies. This close to Baba Yaga's forest might mean it's better supplied than most places because travelers and merchants would stay here on their way to petition her."

"I'm going for a bath. I need to think some of this through alone." Anya needed some space. Her head was filled with snarls, and she hadn't been able to think straight since her dream in the forest. A dream that had left her shoulders feeling bruised from Tuoni pushing her.

How could anyone do that in a dream?Unless it wasn't just a dream, which was the most frightening thought.

"Be careful, and watch your back if you are alone," Yvan warned as she walked from the room. "Have you got your knife?"

Anya patted her pocket. "Always." She found the small washroom downstairs and scrubbed herself raw. When she daydreamed about traveling in the past months, she thought of new, warm countries with sandy beaches, not fairytale worlds. Her mind and body hadn't caught up with the reality of where she was. If she let it, it would send her hiding under the nearest bed.

---