Forge and Fire (The Replacement Book 1)

by Ripley Proserpina

  The voices had silenced, but Tatiana could almost feel them coming toward her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could hear her pulse in her ears.

  It was dark at the base of the stairs for so long, she started to relax and she let out the breath she was holding.

  Then she saw it. A dimly glowing light moved toward them, joined by another light, and then another, and suddenly the stairwell was bathed in it. She could see everything.

  Everyone.

  Their faces were beautiful, but hard. Some of them looked like Kopala, regal and princely, but others… Others stood in tattered clothes, barely covered in rags layered in dirt and dust.

  One of them saw her and gasped. It was a woman, blonde hair swept back from her porcelain forehead. Then she began to laugh. It was just a tinkling thing, like a bell ringing, but it grew louder and more unhinged. The others took it up, laughing uproariously, pointing or holding their stomachs.

  “Come, come!” A man with coal black eyes hurried to them. He waved at them, encouraging them to follow. His nose wrinkled, and he looked past them to the rusalka. “I’d forgotten about that. Get a vodyanyy. Bring her to the river.” He didn’t speak to anyone in particular, but footsteps hurried away from the group so someone must have listened.

  Tatiana glanced at the rusalka. In the bright light, she could see the damage done to the body. Her skin was slashed and gouged. A huge gash ran from one side of her neck to the other, and all along her arms and hands, along the swath of skin exposed by her dress, the crescent-shaped mark of teeth.

  Tatiana jerked her gaze away from the rusalka to the people still waiting. Kopala hadn’t said a word, but watched them.

  And they watched her. Their eyes… Tatiana felt like she was on a stage, and they were breathlessly waiting to see her act.

  There was a noise, almost a whistle, and the man darted past Kopala and grabbed her arm. He was thinner than her and shorter, but he was strong, and quick.

  Kopala lunged toward her, but the man had pulled her into the throng. “Wait!”

  The man giggled, and the people around them made a path. She tried to look behind her, but they filled in the gaps as soon as Tatiana and the strange man had moved through them, blocking Kopala.

  “Good of the prince to bring you,” the man said. “Unexpected. But good. Hurry.”

  Tatiana couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. He gave her no choice, dragging her behind him. The sound of the river grew and the air changed. It became thicker, more humid. She was out of breath, trying to keep up with him. “Poison,” she said.

  The man glanced at her, narrowed his eyes, and then faced forward. “No.”

  It had to be. Tatiana could feel her body reacting to it. She felt weak, and it was hard for her not to trip over her own feet.

  “Keep up,” he demanded.

  She could barely hear him over the water now. The hall opened up into a huge, white domed room, which for some reason reminded her of a subway station.

  The river rushed along the very back of the room like a backdrop.

  She studied the room, noting the dais built on one end. Steps led up to the platform where even more people were seated. The people who’d met them at the body of the rusalka seated themselves on the steps, pushing and shoving as if they were fighting to get the best spots.

  The others, the not so lucky ones, had to spread out. They formed a horseshoe shape around her, jostling so hard she heard a splash and scream as someone fell in the water.

  The man tittered and gave her a gentle shove toward the platform. She ignored the hungry stares of the people around her and scanned the crowd for Kopala. Somehow in this mess, he’d become her touchstone.

  You asked for this. She had to remind herself that this was what she wanted. She wanted to find the girl she replaced and bring her home.

  “The replacement.” The voice echoed in the tiled chamber. Even the river was quiet. Lifting her gaze, she found the speaker. He was massive, huge shoulders broader than the wooden throne he sat on.

  A knight. Tatiana had probably seen his image woven on a tapestry, slaying dragons or riding a white steed to a damsel in a tower.

  “The bogatyr…” the oily man who’d brought her here whispered. The word meant nothing to her.

  “The prince has brought the replacement.” The bogatyr drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne and the sound was so loud it sounded like drums. If he looked so enormous from way down where she stood, he would be—God—he’d be a giant up close. “Where is the hero prince?”

  “Here,” Kopala answered quietly. Somehow, his voice carried to her, and she craned her neck, trying to find him. He was on the other side of the platform, eyes narrowed as he watched the bogatyr.

  “I’m sorry to say we don’t need her anymore. Her human counterpart is now contained.”

  “The poison is still—” Someone knocked into Kopala, and he shut his mouth.

  Contained? What did that mean? “I need to see her,” Tatiana said. “And I need to talk to her. Can you bring me to her?”

  Kopala cut her a look she knew was meant to shut her up, but she continued, regardless. “Is she here?”

  “You want to see her?” The bogatyr eased forward in his throne, and it creaked under his weight. He wore a fur coat, not unlike Shubin’s, except his was smooth and shiny, with golden embroidery decorating the center. He wore a full beard, but she could still see him smiling beneath it, flashing her even, white teeth that seemed a little menacing.

  “I do. I want to bring her home.”

  Eyes wide, the man stood and took one step toward her. “You want to take her home? What home?”

  “To the home where I grew up. With the family she was meant to have.”

  He didn’t answer, but continued down the steps toward her. The closer he came, the more she wanted to back away. People crowded around her though, pressing against her back as if to keep her in place without having to put their hands on her. He came to a stop, one step above her, and she tilted her head back to see him.

  He was a giant. She’d been to one professional basketball game in her entire life, and this guy would dwarf those men.

  “The family she was meant to have…” People muttered, and though he spoke quietly, she heard every word. “Did you see the rusalka on the stairs?” He must have known she had. And he would know who the woman was to her. “You seem upset.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Careful,” Kopala said, earning a glare from the bogatyr.

  Behind them, the muttering got louder and louder. One eyebrow lift from the bogatyr, however, made them all silent. “I murdered the woman who made you. Then I left her sisters to feast on her. The rusalka are survivors. They may mourn their sister, but they’ll get over it quickly. Without her protection, your…” His nostrils flared. “Human counterpart is alone.”

  “I’ll take her out of your hair,” Tatiana said. “I’ll bring her to the human world and you can get on with whatever it is you do.”

  “And you? What will you do? Take her place in Korolevstvo?” He seemed genuinely interested and slowly lowered himself to sit on the step. Now they were nearly the same height.

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t. So much had depended on the real Tatiana wanting to come to the human world. But now it seemed that the challenge would be getting her away from this group. If the real Tatiana didn’t come with her, then this guy was going to kill her.

  “Who are you?” Tatiana asked. “Will you give me the human?”

  Someone laughed behind her, and soon the entire group was roaring. It probably was a stupid question, but so what? She had nothing to lose except her life, and the life of the human girl.

  “I am bogatyr. A knight. A hero. Have you not heard of me?” He sat back, leaning his elbows against the step behind him.

  “No,” she replied. “I know what a knight is. Sir Gawain. Sir Lancelot. Are you one of them?” She studied him with much more interest, and he must have seen it
because he threw back his huge head and laughed. All around them the other people laughed as well.

  “No,” he replied, wiping his eyes and propping his elbows on his knees. “No. Those stories were modeled after me.” He got serious. “Which is why I’m here. Korolevstvo needs a hero, and I am it. As your hero…”

  Not my hero. That seemed a little ballsy to say out loud since he could probably bop her with his boulder-like fist, leaving her a Tatiana-puddle, so she kept the thought to herself.

  “As your hero, it’s my duty to keep Korolevstvo and all its creatures safe.”

  This guy was full of himself and not in the endearing way Fedir, or even Kopala, was.

  “If you wish to see your human, please, be my guest. And give her this message. She either returns to the human world with you, or she dies here.”

  Well, that would seem to be an easy choice, wouldn’t it? “Okay,” Tatiana answered. “I’ll tell her.”

  “Yekim.” The man who had dragged Tatiana from the stairs stepped forward. “Take her where she needs to go.”

  The man’s cold fingers slipped around her wrist again to drag her away from the crowd. She met Kopala’s gaze for a second before he led her back to the stairs.

  There was a door she hadn’t noticed, small and narrow, set into the wall along the stairs. He opened it and waited for her to go through.

  Another set of stairs, these much steeper than the last, led down. Yekim moved fast, his feet so light on the stone she couldn’t hear his tread. Down they went and the air got colder and mustier.

  She could still hear the river, and when she touched the wall to balance herself, it was wet, like they were beneath it and it seeped into the stone. Dim electric lights flickered out of glass bulbs hanging from the ceiling. “How do you have electricity without wires?” she asked.

  The man laughed. “It travels through the air,” he said.

  Huh. “I didn’t know that was possible…”

  “No?” he asked. “A human came up with the idea. You haven’t heard of him?”

  “I’m not a scientist,” she said, which was an excuse, but fuck this guy.

  “No,” he said. “You’re not anything, are you?”

  “I was an English major,” she said. Her voice was hard to hear over the river.

  “A soldier?”

  “No—forget it.” It wasn’t worth wasting her breath.

  The stairs finally came to an end. A long hall, only as wide as she was, stretched in front of her. After a few steps, Tatiana realized where he’d brought her. The hall was lined with doors. Heavy wooden doors with no handles.

  A prison.

  At the end of the hall, he stopped and took something out of his pocket. It had to be a key, because he inserted it into the door, but it wasn’t made of metal. In one motion, the man shoved her inside and placed something in the palm of her hand. The door shut and she was left there, in the dark.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello.” It was her voice, echoed back to her—but not.

  A light suddenly flared as the person in the cell struck a match and lit it to a candle. Blue eyes met blue eyes, and Tatiana took a step back. She’d been expecting to see the real girl, but somehow she hadn’t imagined the moment they would lock eyes and she’d see herself.

  Tatiana took in the state of the other woman. Her face was dirty, and her hands, which she swept down her shirt like she was trying to smooth away the wrinkles, were cut and the nails broken.

  But it was her.

  “Tatiana.”

  “That’s not my name,” the girl said. She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer, peering at Tatiana.

  Tatiana nodded and cleared her throat. “It’s the name your parents gave you when you were born. It’s my name.”

  “Stupid. Don’t you know—”

  She almost laughed. Almost. “I know. Names have power. So what are you called?”

  The girl walked to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall. All it took was two, maybe three steps, but there seemed to be miles of space between them. “You couldn’t say it. It’s the name the rusalka gave me. It doesn’t matter anymore. Did you see my mother?”

  “Yes.” Tatiana’s heart ached for the girl as tears slid out of her eyes. She wiped them away angrily. “I’m sorry.”

  “She angered them. Going to you. But she had no choice. It’s part of the link made between a changeling and the being who creates it. You should have been dead long ago. If you had died, she’d never have been called to protect you.”

  Tatiana tried to remember what the rusalka had said when she’d appeared in her bathroom after Babusya had chucked holy water at her head. “She had to come?”

  “Under certain circumstances, yes. If your family had left you out on a tree stump to die of exposure, she’d have done nothing.” The girl shrugged.

  “Lovely.”

  “It is what it is,” she answered and crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze raked Tatiana from head to toe and she shook her head. “So that’s what I’d look like.”

  The urge to touch her hair and straighten her clothes was hard to ignore, but she did it. “It is. I’m thinner though, probably. Uglier. Because I wasn’t made to last.”

  “But you did. And now you’re here. Why?”

  Here it was. The moment she’d waited for. The moment where she explained everything and made the human girl see what she had waiting for her. “You have a wonderful family.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard before going on. “Your mother is the most stubborn, caring woman in the world. She’ll do anything for you. And your father is so sweet. He’s big and brawny, but he’s a marshmallow.”

  The girl tilted her head to the side.

  “A marshmallow is a soft, sugary treat.”

  “Oh,” the girl answered. Her expression had changed as Tatiana spoke, and her arms uncrossed, dropping to her sides.

  “You have a brother. He’s an idiot. But he’ll give up anything for you, and he won’t even make you feel bad about it. Your family, the one I got to grow up with, they love you so utterly and completely that it kept me alive for almost two decades.”

  “That’s why you’re alive…”

  Tatiana nodded. It was. She truly believed she survived in the midst of the poison and metal because of the love and affection her family gave her. “I think so.”

  “If they’re so wonderful, why are you giving them up?”

  “Because I’m—was—dying. They were going to lose me. And they didn’t deserve that.” It was getting harder to speak. She clutched the thing Yekim had given her in her hand, squeezing it tightly and relishing the pinch of pain as the sharp edges poked her skin.

  “So you wanted to live.” The human girl gave a sharp nod of her head, as if this was something she understood and she crossed her arms again.

  “Of course I want to live,” Tatiana answered, damn her stupid voice. “But I was going to die there anyway, and it would hurt them so much. When I learned what I was, I thought I could make it right. You could have the family you were born to, and they could have the daughter they deserve.”

  “Why don’t they deserve you?” she asked.

  Her question caused a pain in Tatiana’s heart, a tightness. It made it hard for her to breathe so she concentrated on that until she could speak again. “I’m sick when I’m there. Their entire life revolves around me. My brother misses things, things he should get to do, because I’m sick. My parents, every ounce of their energy was taken up with worrying about me. If you were with them, you’d be the way you should be. Healthy. You wouldn’t take from them.”

  Pushing away from the wall, the girl approached her. “What’s in your hand?” she asked.

  Tatiana held it out and opened her fingers. It was a key. It was made of a pearlescent stone, but it was clearly a key.

  “Why would they let us go?” the girl wondered aloud. “Why would they let me go?”

  “I told them you would go back. You will, w
on’t you? Now that you understand?”

  The girl stared at her out of Tatiana’s face, but for all their similarities, Tatiana couldn’t read her expressions. She had no idea what the human was thinking. “Give me the key.”

  Without thinking about it for an instant, Tatiana handed it over. The girl whirled, her black hair flying around her shoulders, and strode to a door Tatiana hadn’t noticed before. Shoving the key into it, the girl pushed it open. “This will lead us out of Korolevstvo,” she said.

  Tatiana walked toward the door. She could hear the river, but that was it. Lit torches with dim flames flickered, revealing a shadowed tunnel.

  “So you’ll go?” she asked.

  The human girl, the one who wore her face but seemed to have none of her emotions, nodded sharply. “I’ll go.”

  27

  Kopala

  Kopala watched Tatiana’s dark head disappear behind the closed door before facing the bogatyr. “You’re letting them go?”

  Standing, the self-proclaimed hero stared at the door as well. “It is much more satisfying to hunt a wild animal before you kill it.”

  “The exchanged girl isn’t a threat.”

  Bellowing a laugh, the man shook his head. “No. The replacement is no threat. But the human? She has murdered both my brothers, did you know that?”

  The three bogatyr brothers were renowned within Korolevstvo. Aloysha, the one Kopala now faced, was the youngest of the three, and the least likely to take physical action against an enemy. What had happened in the time he’d been away?

  “I did not know you had taken the throne,” Kopala answered. “I came prepared to battle the human.”

  “It was only by killing its rusalka mother that we were able to turn the tide. The rusalka dive down deep as the human releases her poison, but even they have begun to sicken. Look at it.” Aloysha jerked his chin toward the river. “It’s thick with it.”

  The other feia wandered away from the dais. The production they’d put on for Tatiana was over and they ceased their theatrics. Some meandered toward the river, staring into it with something like trepidation.