“Let’s go slowly,” I say. “The guard tower isn’t that far.”
“So you still have your tongue,” Lech quips, his blue eyes flashing mockingly. “I wondered.”
We walk along the ravine, the frozen river glittering like metal on the bottom. Our breaths turn into puffy clouds in the night air. There is no snow, but it’s unbearably cold, and even though I should probably save my magic, I warm myself up just a bit.
On the bridge, someone stands. They are wrapped in a cloak, and I can’t tell whether it’s a man or a woman, or what race they are. They are tall, and there’s dignity to their posture. Lech pays the person no mind, but I can’t stop staring, my magic humming with an itch, or maybe recognition, even though Idon’trecognize them.
Just as we pass each other, the person turns to me, and I catch sight of two intensely blue, gorgeous eyes lined with dark, heavy lashes. They are undeniably feminine, looking straight at me.
I blink, and the woman is gone, a faint aroma of rosemary and hay in the air.
Chapter thirty-five
Tower
“Lech, did you see that?” I ask, stopping to look around.
She’s gone, not a trace left. Even the faint note of summer dissipates, frozen to nothing by the cold winter air.
“See what?”
I turn around once more, but we are alone on the bridge. Lech watches me impatiently, and I finally shake my head, muttering that I thought I saw something. On the other side of the bridge, the air fills with the sizzling aroma or roast meat from the nearest eatery, golden light and raucous shouts spilling onto the frozen cobbles. Lech casts a longing look at the door.
“You want to go in?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I would, but now isn’t the time. It’s been so long since we could all just relax, have some fun. Years passed since we had a proper celebration. It’s getting harder, not just for me.”
A shadow slithers along the wall of a dark house, slender and agile like a tail.
“What do you want to celebrate?” I scoff. “It’s not like you’ve won anything. Your master is busy fucking his consort day and night.”
Lech gives me a fleeting look, too quick for me to discern his emotion.
“True,” he admits. “He spends more time with you than with anyone before, but he works hard, too. You know time doesn’t constrain him. I hope we’ll finally have cause for celebration soon. Let’s take a turn around the neighboring streets. We’ll see if there are many passersby around.”
The narrow streets are only marginally less cold than the open space on the bridge. There’s nary a soul around, even the beggars gone into hiding. We pass a ruin destroyed by lightning that used to be a beautiful, three-floor building, and Lech scoffs under his breath.
“If there only was a way to just put an end to it, once and for all.”
I jolt at the quiet vehemence in his words. They make me think in panic that somehow, heknows, that maybe Woland told him I could stop the war by letting myself be claimed, but Lech doesn’t look at me. His face is pinched, eyes down as we trudge up a set of narrow stairs.
Do you really think Woland would make the world a better place?
I almost ask the question before I remember we’re not down in the tunnels but up in Perun’s world, where spies listen even when most people are hidden away in their homes, crowding around fireplaces and waiting for spring. It’s useless to ask Lech, anyway. He’s committed to the devil.
“Let’s go. The streets are deserted.”
The guard tower is a tall, cylindrical building made of gray stone. Torches light both sides of the entrance, a dragon standing guard with a bored expression. He doesn’t spare us a look as we rush down the side of the tower, our steps echoing.
“Here.”
Lech leads me almost to the other side of the tower. Hidden in the shadow cast by the wall Wera and the others wait. A set of wide steps leads below the street level, to something that must have been a second door right at the foot of the tower, now walled in.
“Finally. I was about to start without you,” Wera snaps, shooting me an impatient look. “Everything is as planned. We go in, grab our brothers, go out. Sara, you can start.”
The latawica doesn’t move, but the air around us does. It’s not wind, exactly, but a sort of vibration that tickles my nostrils on every inhale. When I look at the tower, it seems to vibrate, too, even though there is no sound, and the ground under my feet is steady.
“She’s cloaking us,” Lech explains in a whisper. “We’re invisible unless someone looks at us from up close.”