Page 50 of Cry of the Firebird

Baba Zosia patted his shoulder. "Good boy. You grieve for vife?"

Yvan had no idea how she knew about Helena. The fairytale version of her had been told through both worlds, but only Yvan and Vasilli knew the truth of what really happened the night she died. He hadn't even told Anya the full version of events.

"A part of me has been grieving the whole time I was in the egg, but other things are more important now," Yvan admitted, looking back at Anya. He would protect her, even from herself, and maybe then the past would stop hurting so much.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Anya woke to the sound of rain pattering on the roof and the milky smell of porridge and cinnamon. Sitting up slowly, Anya ran her hands through her hair. Her wounded palm was still tender but not throbbing as it had been. Whatever Yvan and the firebird had done, it had helped with the pain. With her body protesting every step, she hobbled through the curtained doorway.

Baba Zosia, swathed heavily in knitted shawls, stood in front of a cast iron, pot-bellied stove scooping thick porridge into painted wooden bowls.

"Eat," she urged, giving Anya a bowl. She took it and sat at the small pine table. Muttering something under her breath, Baba Zosia sat down and glared at her.

"Thank you for getting the thorns out of my hand," Anya said, not knowing if the older woman would even understand her. "I would be dead without your help."

"Worse," Baba Zosia said. "Eat."

Anya scooped the gooey porridge in her mouth. Ever since she had come to Skazki, she had a much stronger appetite than usual. Being sober more often probably had a lot to do with it.

"You have Papa's eyes," Baba Zosia said, tapping her temple.

"You knew Eikki?"

"Our path cross. He come to me when you born. To see destiny. I don't lie. He scared. I go to him when you older. Destiny still same." Baba Zosia clucked her tongue.

Aleksandra came into the caravan, her black hair glittering with rain droplets.

"Buna dimineata," she greeted with a bright smile at Anya. "It's nice to see you up and eating already." Baba Zosia said something long and complicated to Aleksandra as she removed her soaked shawl and hung it near the stove to dry.

"Baba Zosia said I'm to translate for you," she relayed to Anya as she poured them all coffee. "Her English is limited, and she says she has much to tell you."

"You speak English very well," Anya commented.

"Yakaterina taught me. She spends a lot of time in the human world, and our language is only used by our particular tribe. It's a hybrid of many languages, Rom, Russian, Romanian, Egyptian, French you name it. We have had many different cultures join us over the years, so it's tough to learn it unless you live with us."

"Do you live in Skazki permanently?" Anya asked.

"We are world walkers. We travel in and out as it suits us. Lately, we have been in Skazki more, though trouble is brewing."

They were interrupted by Baba Zosia, who started to talk rapidly to Aleksandra.

"She says that she looked into your future when you were a child, and she saw you being torn apart by dark and light. You were powerful and strong. She could taste the magic. Eikki didn't want that for you, so he said he wouldn't teach you. He thought that if he made people believe you had no abilities, they would leave you alone like they did his son."

"Well, I'm disappointed that Eikki didn't teach me when I did have magic," Anya said.

Baba Zosia raised an eyebrow at her, and Anya quickly shut her mouth. She said something to Aleksandra, who nodded and said, "When your parents named you, they found one so close to your ancestor's that it was like destiny was going to force itself. Your destiny that Baba Zosia saw scared Eikki even more. With a name like yours, it would draw suspicion even if he did lie about your abilities, so he shortened your name to Anya."

"But Anya is my whole name," she argued. She had been called Anya for as long as she could remember. She thought of Yvan calling hershalost—mischief—and she smiled at the nickname. "Then what's my full name if it is not Anya?"

Aleksandra translated for her, and Baba Zosia clucked her tongue before answering, "Anyanka."

"Anyanka," she repeated her stomach dropping. Eikki had never called her that, not once. This old woman had examined her twice as a child…Eikki's journal. "Zosi. You are Zosi, who Eikki wrote about."

"He call me that sometimes," Baba Zosia said, with a wave of her hand.

"It was because of you that he took my memories away." Heat rushed through Anya, her magic waking up with her anger.

Aleksandra translated, but Baba Zosia's eyes narrowed at Anya's tone.

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