Page 41 of Ironheart

"I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me," Zori said.

"If he comes to Kitezh, it won't just be for you, granddaughter. It will be for all of us," Irina replied. "We need to be prepared for whatever happens. That means tomorrow we are going to work on you shifting and accessing your magic. Morana intervened with you once, and we can't expect her to do it again. She's a goddess, not our own personal Santa Claus to grant us wishes."

"It scares the shit out of me, but I will try my best," Zori said, sounding a lot braver than she felt.

"Try not to be scared. Your swan, your magic—they’re part of you as much as breathing. It's natural for us, and it will feel like the missing piece of yourself has finally been returned to you," Irina said, taking Zori's hand. "Your magic is a gift from Morana. She will guide you on what to do with it. You don't need to worry about it now."

"Everyone keeps telling me not to worry. I can't just stop. I know nothing about living out in the world, Irina. I was told I was sick and dying. To go from that to all of this…" Zori gestured at her, and the pretty house around her "It's like a big make-believe dream. The orphan child with no last name finally gets family. The dying girl secretly has magic and has been controlled by an evil sorcerer. It's like one of the fairytales Alisa used to tell me as a girl."

"You have a last name. It's Nikolaeva." Irina's expression shifted to one of grief. "I'm so sorry you had to live through all of that, Zoria. If your mother spoke to you of a story like this, maybe she was trying to tell you something."

"What do you mean?"

"Alisa had visions. Sometimes they were of the future. Perhaps she had one about you and tried to tell you as a child in a way that you could understand," Irina replied. She looked upset but thoughtful at the same time.

"I don't know anything about that. I'm happy I'm here and that I have family. It's just going to take me a while to process it all," Zori said. She was so overwhelmed, and a part of her was grieving for Maxim. It hurt, but she could do nothing to stop it, no matter how evil they all said he was. She was so tired.

"Everything can wait until tomorrow, Zoria. For now, you should go and try to sleep." Irina opened one of the small kitchen cupboards and took down a small vial of lavender liquid. "This is a potion that will help you rest."

Zori took it from her but didn't drink it. "No offence, grandmother, but I spent my whole life taking whatever pills I was handed. I'm not… I'm not going to do that anymore. I'll be fine." She gave the vial back. Irina didn't look offended or angry.

"It's okay. I'll never force you to take anything against your will. I'll leave it on the table if you change your mind," she replied and sat the vial down.

Zori bid her good night and headed back up to her room. Her legs felt like they were full of lead. She collapsed into bed without getting undressed and pulled a pillow close. Her head felt too full of everything she had learned. She thought about how happy her parents looked in the photos, Irina's sadness, Chernobog's anger. Mostly, she thought about Vladik and what Irina had said.

"Mates," Zori whispered to the darkness. She didn't know how to feel about that either. She fell asleep and dreamed of stars whispering secrets to her and a golden string of light leading her to the place that she belonged.

21

Vladik walked through his family’s two-story house and breathed in the scents of wood and winter. He lit a fire and inspected the fridge and cupboards. Aleksandr must've thought he needed feeding because both were full of fresh produce. The place had also been dusted and aired out. Sprigs of lavender and rosemary hung over the doorways.

Old busybody, he thought fondly. He made a mental note to thank him and whoever had been wielding the duster. Vladik lit a small cone of incense on the family altar to Morana. The statue had been in the family for generations, and he'd neglected it for over a year.

The year in Moscow really had been a blur of endless days watching the tower and tracking thevolhvthat visited the city. He seemed to have forgotten how peaceful Kitezh was as opposed to being out in the world. It was built as a sanctuary. It didn't struggle with its identity like other places.

Vladik had a long, hot shower and tried not to miss Zoria. She needed time with Irina. He was selfish to want to keep her to himself. Especially when they weren't mated.

Not mated yet, his beast rumbled inside of him.

"It's up to her, not me," Vladik replied. Maybe he should have told Zori about it. He was positive Irina would. She'd know that Zori and he had been fooling around.

Nothing foolish about it.

"Shut up. We have other things to do than pine," he muttered. Sometimes he wondered if other people talked to their inner gargoyle or if it was only him that argued with it.

Kaspian had told him to listen to the beast's instincts. The problem with that was that its instinct was to throw Zori over his shoulder and carry her off like a horny, old dragon.

Vladik pulled on fresh clothes, grabbed his keys and phone, and headed out into the snowy streets. It was so clean and picturesque compared to the grime of the human cities. He wanted to hold Zori's hand and show her all the pretty shops and galleries, the greenhouses and gardens that made Kitezh a self-sufficient city. He had no doubt that her quick mind would love all of it. Aleksandr would take her to the Great Library, and they would talk history together while Vladik looked on, smiling. He was turning into a ridiculous sap of a male with all the future dreams he was having.

Vladik stuffed his cold hands into his pockets and made for the Temple of Mokosh. They might have been the chosen ones of Morana, but that didn't mean they didn't honor other gods. Mokosh was a goddess of health and healing, and she had many followers.

A large wooden statue of the goddess stood outside of the temple, candles and small offerings placed in the snow at her feet. Vladik leaned down to light a candle of his own before walking through the large wooden doors.

A woman dressed in blue and white healer's robes approached him with a serene smile on her face. He didn't know how, but all the healers had such gentle, calm energy that to be around them made you feel like you were getting hugged.

"I'm here to see Misha, the gargoyle that was refusing to shift," he told her.

"Ah, you must be Vladislav, his brother, yes?" she said and gestured. "Come this way. We have placed him in one of the separate suites away from others."

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