Page 41 of White Wolf

He sat forward on the bench that was tucked into a gilded alcove in this impossible, beautiful palace, rested his arms on his knees and put his head low, so he didn’t feel so faint anymore.

He startled a little when he felt a cool palm cup the back of his neck, soothing against the too-hot skin there.

“It’s alright,” Nikita said, voice low enough that the guards at the door couldn’t overhear. “I’m pretty sure the old man’s enchanted Stalin himself at this point to get what he wants.” He sighed. “We’re probably all enchanted too. The plan will go through.”

How could he possibly know that’s what had him worried? Sasha released a shaky breath toward his boots and whispered, “I don’t want to be a soldier.”

“You won’t be.” Nikita’s hand tightened on his neck, briefly, and then pulled away. “I promise.”

How can you get me home?he wondered.How can you promise anything when you’re caught in this trap too?

Feliks thumped down beside him on the bench. “I just want to know what they’re going todowith you.”

“Me too,” Sasha said. Feeling bolder, comforted by Nikita’s promise, he lifted his head and sent the captain a searching look. “Did he say–”

Nikita shook his head. “No, nothing. He won’t tell us.” He frowned into the middle distance, one leg cocked to the side, hands on his hips. His eyes slid to Sasha. “I’m going to make him tell us, though.”

“Oh. Well…” He didn’t want to start a fight. This situation was frightening enough without complicating it. “I–”

The doors to the major general’s office opened and Philippe walked through. Smiling. “Gentlemen,” he said when he reached them, clapping his gloved hands together. “The river should be navigable in three weeks’ time. We leave on the first cargo ship out, theEkaterina, the moment we’re able, bound for Stalingrad.”

11

THREE WEEKS

Three weeks was a long time.

Sasha felt a blend of relief – he was still alive, hadn’t been punished – and deep sadness: he wasn’t going home, was instead stuck in Moscow until he eventually boarded a ship for Stalingrad. Home was well and truly behind him.

He thought the time would pass slowly.

But it didn’t.

~*~

Or, rather, it did, but he didn’t spend that time staring glumly out of windows, contemplating his fate, missing home. He was too busy for that.

The next morning, Ivan packed a heavy knapsack after breakfast and slung it over his shoulder. “Get your coat, pup.”

Sasha rose to comply, glancing down at his plate – Pyotr was already gathering it with the others – curious and excited, going along already though he had no idea what was happening. “Where are we going?”

“To teach you how to fight,” Kolya said.

“I can fight,” he said, frowning, shrugging into his coat.

Nikita made an amused sound into his tea.

Pyotr had packed them lunch and thermoses of tea. Feliks took the bag from him and together, the four of them trooped down the concrete stairwell and out into the silver, smoke-scented morning.

Yesterday, this trip had been an assault on all his senses, the new smells and sights and sounds overwhelming him, too many to catalogue all at once. But today the details were easier to pick out.

The bold silhouettes of St. Basil’s spires and onion domes. The tender-white, exhaustion-bruised flesh around the female factory workers’ eyes where their goggles had shielded them from the soot that marred the rest of their faces in big, careless smudges. The glimmer of sunlight on their metal lunchboxes, the faded floral patterns of their shirts, just visible between the halves of haphazardly buttoned coats. Too tired to care, too tired to feel the cold. There were ravens, so many ravens, wheeling and diving, picking through tidbits in the dirty snow, cackling at one another, croaking and cocking their heads to regard the humans that passed, totally unafraid.

Three played tug-of-war over a frozen rat corpse in the middle of the sidewalk, and Feliks sent them scattering with a kick, black feathers and skinny tracks left behind.

Sasha had never seen this many birds in the woods. The presence of so many here, in the heart of the city, was disconcerting.

He walked in the middle of their four-person group, Ivan huge and hulking beside him, his shadow swallowing Sasha’s whole. His presence was a comfort, if Sasha was honest. No one would take a look at Ivan and decide to rob the man walking beside him.

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