Page 69 of Dark Ink

More food gets shoved into my mouth. Parts of it stick to my chin and my cheeks. I close my eyes, reaching for some place inside me that will be quiet.

But there’s only the loud blaring in my ears, and my thought:

You’re back.

You’re back.

And you’re never getting out again.

Chapter 37

Ihold Tanya’s hair as she vomits in the bucket in my room. I knew this was coming. She was being too loud, challenging Koschei for no reason. It was natural that she had to be reminded of the rules in our world. The rule about never leaving any food on your plate was one of the first that all children in the village learn. I don’t think she forgot; she wanted to see how far she could push until Koschei pushed back.

After Tanya’s retches dry up, she sits back and dries her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Her clothes from the outside world are filthy. Despite this, I pull her into my arms as she cries silently. She doesn’t wail or sob. She just presses her teeth together and sniffles from time to time.

I rub her back and squeeze her tighter, giving her back the comfort I received from her that night in the club. As my hands roam, I feel something sharp and hard at her ribs. I run my fingers over it, pressing lightly, trying to figure out what it is.

Tanya grabs my wrist, her grip tight and painful.

“Ow,” I say softly, keeping my face in check.

“Don’t touch that,” she whispers back, easing her hold on my wrist. She brings my hand to her lap and traces the lines on my palm. “Thank you, Jenya. For soothing me. But I have to tell you something and it’s not going to be easy to hear.”

I look at her puffy eyes. She has cried so much that her eyelids are rimmed with red and the skin around her pale eyebrows has pinkened.

“Is it about the immortality ritual?” My voice comes out shaky. What she said in the dining hall still bothers me. Half of the words she used were unknown or in a context that made no sense.

“No. Not about that, but we can talk about what Koschei means when he says ‘immortality’ in a bit. I wanted to tell you that I don’t plan to stay in the village.” She wipes the last remaining tears off her cheeks and straightens. “I have something to do and after I do it, I will leave and go back to Love and Err.”

It’s like she used two of her fingers to pinch my heart. I wasn’t expecting her to be fully ready to rejoin us, but hearing it put so simply hurts. I gather all my bravery for my next words, praying I have read the situation correctly. If I haven’t, I will have to endure more pain.

“Do you want to leave alone?”

She squeezes my hand in both of hers. “I haven’t decided. Do you want to stay here or leave with me?”

I hiccup at the directness of her words. She offers me a new life, in the fascinating world beyond our village. She offers me the freedom of choice but also the weight of its consequences. Koschei will not like any of this.

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I don’t know how to decide. It feels like both worlds are made of lies and darkness. I thought this one had immortality to offer me. A part of me wanted to complete the ritual, then escape into the new world. I know it’s selfish. I just want to stop being afraid of the darkness inside me and the need to constantly purify it.”

Tanya pulls me into a hug, pressing me into the hard thing in her chest. My curiosity scratches at my skin. I want to know what it is, but impatience is a sin. I’ve been committing many sins recently.

I shift away, trying to find a comfortable way to sit without aggravating any of my injuries. Tanya’s gaze falls to my bruised ankle and her jaw tightens again, as if she will cry on my behalf.

“I’ll tell you about the immortality ritual,” she says. “And before I start, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask.

“For the pain that I will cause you with my words.”

I flinch a little, then brace myself. “I can take pain. It’s one of the expectations from me as Malaya Zhritsa.”

“Indeed.” Tanya nods. “But let’s start this story before you took my cursed place. Back when you were a child, do you remember how we gathered mushrooms? Do you remember the snowmen we used to make when the days lasted for months, and how the night, the darkness, never came?”

“Not really,” I say. That period of my life is nothing but fuzzy feelings. There is some happiness and warmth there, but nothing I can connect to actual memories.

“Okay, do you remember when your mother appeared one day with a little baby? Your baby brother, who went to Nav shortly after?” Tanya seems to be struggling to find the beginning point of her story.

“I don’t. Can you just tell me, if Ben hadn’t set my village on fire, what would have happened at my immortality ritual?” I ask, hoping that will help her focus.

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