Page 48 of Cry of the Firebird

"You quiet now. Both quiet," Baba Zosia snapped.

Aleksandra came forward and started to pour salt in a circle around Anya's bed. From the folds of her shawl, Baba Zosia produced some small bells which she rang, filling the tense air with their tinkling. Anya knew Eikki had owned similar bells. He called thembakterismaskobells and had a set on a shelf in his room.

Baba Zosia started to crush herbs and spices in the stone basin slowly and methodically. The rich smell of cloves bombarded Anya's senses, making her magic spike uneasily as Baba Zosia started to hum a tune. Her heart was racing, but she managed to find Trajan's face and focus on it.

I kissed him, she thought in a daze, and she liked it.

Anya watched with grim fascination as Baba Zosia took her infected hand, and with two quick flicks of a knife, she opened the inflamed scars. Blood poured from the wounds, and Baba Zosia let it drop into the crushed herbs

Anya could no longer follow the tune she was humming, its rhythm reduced to a buzzing static in her brain. Aleksandra joined in and continued the flow and rhythm of it when Baba Zosia spat into the mixture. A small leather bag appeared in her hand, and she tipped the contents in.

Finally, she lit a small bundle of dried grasses and dropped the ashes into it, grinding the mixture until it became a thick paste. Scooping some into her wrinkled hand, she spread it over Anya's wound.

Anya screamed as an agonizing burning sensation burst up her arm like a thousand knives scraping through her veins.

Trajan's eyes flashed red as he rushed to her side. "She's fading to the afterlife! Do something!"

"Hold her down," Baba Zosia commanded Aleksandra.

She gripped Anya's shoulders without stopping the incessant humming. Baba Zosia started an incantation in their obscure language. She said it three times, her voice becoming more potent with each telling until she was shouting.

Anya screamed as her power flared hot and mixed with Baba Zosia's. It roared through her, burning and cleansing the poison from her body. With a final shout, the pain vanished. Baba Zosia ran the rim of a small glass vial over her bloody palm. She held it to Anya's face so she could see two rose thorns in the congealing mess.

"Bind her hand," Baba Zosia said to Aleksandra.

"I'll be back with some water to clean the wound," Aleksandra said before helping the older woman down the stairs and out of the caravan.

Trajan moved to Anya's side, his cold hand resting on her burning head.

"Why is it so dark?" Anya whispered.

"Whatever you and that woman just did melted all the candles," Trajan said, his hands shaking. "I thought I had lost you for a moment."

"I'm not going anywhere. You wasted a kiss for nothing." Anya smiled sleepily.

"It wasn't a waste. Neither is this one." Trajan kissed her again, his long fingers twisting in her hair. Anya managed to move her good hand, gripping his shirt, his smell and the heat of his body warming her. She should've been shocked, but all she felt was relief to be alive, to have him so close to her, his lips on hers.

Aleksandra reappeared with a steaming basin of water and coughed politely. Trajan broke off the embrace at once. Anya touched her lips a little dazed, the sensation of him imprinted on them.

"I see your hands are working again, which is a good sign," Aleksandra commented as she took her place by Anya's side. "Once we get all of this blood bathed off, we will stitch your hand and get you changed into fresh clothes." She looked at Trajan pointedly.

"I'll be close if you need me," Trajan said and made for the door.

"The others are eating in the third caravan to the right of this one," Aleksandra said as she started to wash Anya's skin. "They are expecting you."

Yvan stoodoutside of Baba Zosia's caravan, arms folded and pissed off that he had been evicted. He had spent an agonizing amount of time listening to Anya scream, unable to help her. The sound of her cries had ripped the heart right out of him. Even the firebird was restless and upset at the thought of Anya in pain.

Yvan was debating whether or not to go in when Trajan came hurrying out, looking flustered.

"I see you have been kicked out as well," Yvan said calmly.

"I've served my purpose."

"Which was?"

"To tell them if Anya was dying. She's fine now, just exhausted. You can stop looking so worried, Yvan."

Yvan gripped his hands in his hair. "No, I can't. Vasilli did that to her through a dream. How in all the worlds are we going to keep her safe from him?"

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