Ilya nodded, his hand resting on the stone cliffside. “They go all over.” He pointed an admonishing finger at them. “But they’re not safe for children to be running around in! I’m not sure if all the branches are safe. Some of them might fall down. The tsar has closed them off to keep people safe.”
Anya watched Håkon and Alfhercht sneak toward the cave out of the corner of her eye. She was noticing that the tsar took away a lot of things in the interest of safety.
Ilya continued. “And part of the caves go out to the river. There are whole sections that are underwater. You could get trapped and drown.” He laughed and indicated Ivan. “Well, not you.”
Ivan’s cheeks flared red. “Why not me?”
Ilya laughed again. “You’re a funny one!” He continued to laugh, but when Ivan didn’t join in and instead looked confused and embarrassed, Ilya’s own laughter trailed off. “Wait. You . . . Are you not . . .” He scratched his beard.
“Not what?” Ivan asked.
Behind Ilya, Håkon and Alfhercht were nearly out of the bushes and into the cavern’s mouth.
Ilya shook his head. “I’m sorry. It was my mistake. You look like one of the eastern peoples, that’s all. The Dvukh people.”
Quietly, Ivan said, “My mama is from the East.”
“Oh?” Ilya asked. “Is she Dvukh?”
“I don’t know,” Ivan said. “She doesn’t talk about her home.”
Ilya said, “Well, ah, does she . . . Are there any sealskins in your home at all?”
“What?” Ivan wrinkled his nose. “Just lying around, or part of clothing?”
“An entire seal skin,” Ilya said. “Or it could be something else. A leopard, or a wolf, or something like that.” He tilted his head and studied Ivan. “But you look like a seal to me. The ones I’ve seen.”
Ivan gawped. “I look like a seal?”
“Well,” Ilya said, “those are the oldest. Do you really not know about the Dvukh?” When they both shook their heads, he sighed. “Who’s in charge of your education, anyway?”
Ivan and Anya glanced at each other and shrugged.
Ilya said, “I have a minute to explain. Do you at least know where Lukomorye is?”
They exchanged another glance.
“Lukomorye isn’t anywhere,” Anya said. “It’s not a real place.”
“It’s pretend,” Ivan agreed. “For little kids.”
It was where the fairy tales happened. It was the land beyond their own. It wasn’t real . . . was it?
Ilya shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “No. No, it’s real. That’s where they came from. The Dvukh. Lukomorye is an island in the northern ocean, shrouded in mists and ice, and finding it is nigh impossible.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were seeing something far away.
As Ilya spoke, Håkon and Alfhercht crept behind him, past him, into the cave, sticking close to the opposite wall. Anya tried not to watch them, tried to pretend they weren’t even there. But it was impossible to keep her eyes off them. Håkon’s toe caught on a rock and he kicked it. It clattered on the floor of the cavern.
Anya gasped. Ilya paused his story, and Anya yelled, “A-choo!”
“God bless you,” Ilya said, and then continued on like nothing had happened. “The Dvukh swam from the island to the Thrice-Nine Kingdoms, back when the land was brand-new, and they settled in the East. They mostly stayed there, in a place we call Ashina. In Ashina, the Dvukh are mostly wolf-people now, I think.” He waved a finger at Ivan. “Unlike you. The Dvukh are doubled: human and wolf, or seal, or some other animal. They can change between the two forms. Seals with eyes that are too smart. Huge, gray wolves who can’t be caught in any trap. I’ve seen them out there.” Ilya blinked, and his eyes cleared. He directed his gaze to Ivan. “And the people look just like you. Similar to the Polenitsi, too.” He paused. “Is your mother a Polenitsa, perchance?”
“I don’t think so,” Ivan said. Anya noticed him trembling. “How would I know?”
He laughed. “She’d be horrified to have a son, for one.”
“My mama has seven sons,” Ivan said.
“Oh God.” Ilya crossed himself. “Your poor mother.”
“Our poor village,” Anya said. As Håkon and Alfhercht vanished into the cave’s darkness, she said loudly, “Gospodin Ilya, this has been a fascinating discussion. But Ivan and I are . . . going to go throw rocks into the river.” She hesitated. “Would you like to throw rocks with us?” She figured they could lose him in the forest somehow. Hopefully.
Ilya laughed. “Oh, I’m too old to throw rocks. But I should be getting back to the castle anyway.” He pointed a thick finger between her and Ivan. “Don’t rile up any vodyaniye.”
“Of course not,” Anya said.
“I’m surprised there are still some in the river,” Ivan piped.
“They’re tough to get rid of,” Ilya said. “If you get them upset, I’ll have to fish you out of the river!” He pointed at Ivan again. “Maybe even you. I’m a good swimmer, though!” He laughed and walked past them, south toward where they had just come from. “God protect you, children.”
They waved goodbye to him, waiting for him to vanish before they darted into the dark cave. Inside, Anya couldn’t make out the shapes of her friends, so she whispered, “Håkon! Alfhercht!”
“Here!” Håkon’s voice came from a few feet back. As he whispered, a glow rose. Alfhercht held a stone in his hand, glowing like the ones in his tree. Its warm orange light threw shadows over their faces, turning them ghoulish.
Håkon said, “I thought he’d never leave.”
“Did you hear him?” Ivan asked.
“I heard him say you look like a seal,” Håkon said.
Anya laughed, then noticed Alfhercht watching them all intently. He squinted and frowned. She looked at Ivan and Håkon. The shadows on their faces warped their mouths, making their top lips vanish and their lower lips move strangely. He was trying to watch them speak, and couldn’t.
Anya fished the notebook out of Ivan’s jacket and wrote on it: Ivan looks like a seal.
Alfhercht held his glowing stone over the notebook, then peered up at her with a scrunched face. Anya laughed, Håkon laughed, and then Alfhercht reached over to Ivan and pressed the pad of his finger to the tip of Ivan’s nose. And he laughed, silent but unmistakable.
Ivan startled when Alfhercht touched him, like he hadn’t seen the elf’s finger coming. He turned red so fast, his face seemed to be on fire. No quick quip back. No laugh. It wasn’t like him. Under his embarrassment, he looked shocked.
Still laughing, Alfhercht shook his head, pointed to Ivan, and with his free hand made a bunch of gestures. Then he wrote on the notebook: His face is too flat to be a seal’s. And he drew a quick sketch: the outline of a seal.
Håkon took the pencil from Alfhercht and drew a crooked cap on the seal’s head.
“You know what?” Ivan squeaked, then cleared his throat. “None of you are funny!”
Anya hugged him around his arms. “We’re hilarious.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I bet your mama would talk to you about it when we get back to Zmeyreka.”
Ivan shrugged, frowning.
Alfhercht handed the notebook back to Ivan, who took it with trembling fingers, and then the elf crooked his thumb back toward the cave. His meaning was obvious: This way.
He led the way, holding the glowing stone out to light the path. Anya followed, then Håkon, then Ivan, until the cavern had swallowed them up.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The stone’s orange glow cast a narrow circle of light, but in the deep darkness of the cave, it was more than enough. Anya, Ivan, and Håkon crowded close to Alfhercht, shuffling along with him to make sure they didn’t get lost. If they fell behind or took a wrong turn, they’d never find their way back out.
The tunnel split, and Alfhercht stopped. He lifted his light up to the walls, inspecting them for something. Anya watched him, wondering what he could be searching
for, and then he reached a hand up. He drew the tips of his fingers over a dark gash. Someone or something had gouged a long, deep line into the cave wall. Alfhercht pulled his fingers back and wiped them on his pant leg, then took the passage to the right.
Almost immediately, the tunnel sloped down and down and down, growing colder and damper with every step. The stone under their feet began to feel slick with slime and mold, and Anya almost lost her footing several times.
“Håkon,” Ivan said in the dimness, “I don’t care how comfy you think caves are. This one is a dump.”
“It could use some sprucing up,” Håkon agreed. “At least a good mopping.”
Anya twisted her apron in her hands idly. “Ilya said the caverns went under the river. That some of them were full of water.”
“Well, those won’t be the right way,” Ivan said. “He’s taking us to a dungeon, right? That human beings use? The passages would have to be clear. Regular people can’t use magic to get through underwater tunnels.” He paused. “Maybe there’s just some puddles to wade through.”
“Maybe,” Anya said softly, and then Alfhercht stopped.
He held out his glowing stone, and it reflected on the water. The tunnel in front of them continued to slope down, and a few feet in front of them, it was full of water. Full, from side to side, all the way back until it touched the ceiling. Impassable.
“Oh no,” Ivan murmured.
“They must have flooded since he came through here,” Anya said.
Alfhercht turned to them and pointed at the water.
“Go in there?” Anya asked, pointing.
Alfhercht nodded.
Anya shook her head. “Swim?”
Håkon inched closer to the water. “We can swim that, no problem.”
“You can’t swim!” Anya said.
“Says who?” Håkon said, crossing his arms.
Anya huffed. “Says me! No. We don’t even know how far the water goes.” She and Ivan could swim, but could Håkon? As a dragon, he swam better than any of them. But as a boy? With his unfamiliar body? He had learned to walk only the day before. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to swim. Maybe he’d drown.
“I’m a river dragon,” Håkon snapped. “I can swim this better than any of you!”
He was being so stubborn, but Anya wasn’t about to let him risk his life. Her skin crawled at the thought of Håkon drowning, and she shook her head harder. “We’ll just have to find another way.”
“This is the way.” Håkon stepped to the water’s edge and moved to walk straight into it.
Alfhercht shot a hand out and grabbed Håkon around the arm. He pulled Håkon back and sighed, exasperated. He thrust the glowing stone at Anya. She took it, surprised at its warmth. With two free hands, Alfhercht turned back to the water and wove his fingers in the air. The water flowed apart, leaving a ditch of air down the middle. He parted the water in the tunnel the way Moshe had parted the sea. Except there wasn’t freedom on the other side. There were even deeper, even darker tunnels.
Ivan stepped closer to Alfhercht, seeming to forget his fear of smelling bad. He was gaping at the elf’s manipulation even more than Anya was. After all, he could see the threads Alfhercht pulled. There was a level to Alfhercht’s magic that Anya would never be able to appreciate.
Ivan traced one finger in the air, following a thread. “The perfect prison door. Only water magic can get past it.”
Peering at Ivan, Alfhercht nodded. His eyes lingered on Ivan’s enthralled face for a breath, and then he turned back to the water. He stepped into the ditch, and Ivan followed him.
“Come on,” Ivan said to Anya and Håkon. “Whatever water Alfhercht can’t keep away, I will. We’ll be fine.”
Anya and Håkon stepped down. Anya held the glowing stone up so they could see. They walked, staying even closer to Alfhercht now, with Ivan behind them. They passed under where the water touched the ceiling, and then Ivan pulled threads to close the ditch of air behind them, forming an oblong bubble around them instead. Anya remembered the last time she was in an underwater bubble. She had been trapped inside a bag that smelled like earth and rotten cabbage. Ivan had tried to save them, but he wasn’t as good at magic back then as he was now. It had been Håkon who had pulled them out, saving them both.
But who would save them if they got stuck this time?
Anya’s chest felt tight. She held her breath like she was underwater and not inside a magical bubble, shuffling through a cavern as dark as a midnight storm. Her hands trembled, and the stone in her hands reflected on the water wall. Past it, slipping through the inky water, Sigurd’s ghost leered at her, leaving bloody trails behind him. None of your heroes are here to save you this time.
Anya shut her eyes and gasped in a breath.
A warm hand on her arm made her open her eyes. Håkon looked at her, blue eyes sparkling with concern. He didn’t know about how Sigurd still haunted her—his actual ghost or his memory or whatever it was—or about her nightmares, her panic in her own cellar, her fear that one day she’d wake up and Håkon would be gone. Murdered by the tsar, or by another hero. He didn’t know. Ivan didn’t know. Only Zvezda knew.
She was afraid Håkon would want to know what was wrong and would press her for an answer. She didn’t want to tell him. But he didn’t ask. He just squeezed her arm and whispered, “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen.”
A smile tugged up the corners of her mouth. She knew he wouldn’t. He was a good dragon. A good friend. And he was shaping up to be a good human, too. She slipped her free hand over his and squeezed it back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
An eternity later—or maybe it had been only ten minutes—the air bubble around them was beginning to feel stale and stifling. Just as Anya began to itch with the need to get out from under the water, the top of it breached the surface of the tunnel, and fresh, cold air cascaded over them. Anya sucked in breaths as she hurried away from the water. She relaxed only once she was on dry ground.
Suspiciously dry ground.
They were no longer in a rough cavern. The floor and walls were smooth, sanded down to resemble an actual hallway inside a building. In the stone’s glow, Anya could make out unlit sconces every few feet, where there could be torches if needed. Some of those sconces sat beside doors.
Heavy wooden doors.
With keyholes.
The key seemed to get heavier around her neck and warmer against her skin. Behind her, the boys all followed into the tunnel. Alfhercht let his threads go, and the water of the ditch slapped together as it engulfed where the group had just walked up. He touched Ivan on the shoulder. Ivan whirled, eyes wide, face red.
Alfhercht smiled and said something to Ivan with his hands. When it became clear that Ivan didn’t understand what he was trying to say, Alfhercht just shook his head and clapped Ivan on the shoulder. He turned, taking the glowing stone from Anya, and led the way toward the eerily smooth hall.
Ivan stood still. One hand wandered up to the spot where Alfhercht had touched him.
Håkon razzed Ivan’s hair. “I think he was saying you did a good job.”
Ivan didn’t try to duck away from Håkon. He just stood there and let his hair go wild.
“Yeah,” he murmured. He might have been smiling, or it might have just been the way the shadows crossed over his face.
Håkon followed Alfhercht, and Ivan trailed after. Anya brought up the rear, stopping at every door she came across and slipping her key into the keyholes.
Just like up in the castle, nothing happened.
They wound around corners and past cold torches mounted on the walls, until they reached a thick wooden door. Alfhercht stopped in front of it, holding his stone up, examining it.
“Wait!” Anya whispered, darting forward. Maybe this was her key’s chance to shine! She reached for the keyhole with her key, and Alfhercht grabbed it. When he did, his hand trembled.
She understood. “The monster.”
Ivan blinked
slowly. “Cave monster.”
“You’re kind of our only hope if it shows up,” Håkon said. “Anya and I don’t have any magic. We have these knives, but . . .” He gulped.
Anya jammed her hands onto her hips. “We’re not useless. Your da taught us how to fight.”
“Yeah, against people, “ Håkon argued. “Not against a monster.”
Anya snorted. “Ivan, give me the journal.”
He did, and she wrote a message for Alfhercht on it: How does the monster attack?
Alfhercht wrote, Magic.
So we use magic against it? Anya wrote.
Alfhercht shook his head. Steals magic.
Ivan squeaked, “Steals magic?” He pulled his hands close to his chest, like that would prevent his magic from being taken.
“Steals?” Anya read what Alfhercht wrote out loud. Alfhercht could steal magic. Did the monster do the same thing he did? Like how you do?
Alfhercht frowned. I don’t steal. I pick up.
Anya wasn’t sure of the difference, and it must have shown on her face, because Alfhercht continued.
I can take threads from someone, but they can pick them up again. The monster steals forever. You can never use your magic again. Don’t try to fight it. Run away.
Next to her, Ivan sucked in a short breath. You can never use your magic again. How could the monster do that? What kind of creature could tear someone’s magic ability away from them?
But Anya realized something. If Alfhercht and Ivan got their magic taken away, it wouldn’t matter how fast she ran. She’d get stopped at that water tunnel. She’d never be able to swim to the other side.
All of them would be trapped forever.
It was too late to turn back. Anya had promised Alfhercht she’d help him save his brother. She had the ability to help. So . . . she would.
She nodded. Get your brother. Run away. Be safe.
Alfhercht read her words, nodded, and pushed on the door. It opened on shrieking, rusted hinges, swinging inward.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The enormous room beyond was lit dimly through narrow windows in its stone ceiling. It was hugely long and tall, mostly circular in shape. The door Anya stepped through was on an upper level, near the ceiling. She could look down over a short stone wall onto an oval dirt field. They all peered down.
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