"That's amazing." She stared at them.
"Isn't it? Idunn is wonderful with children of all ages. I have yet to see one not go to her. She's the same way with animals, too."
"Freyja, I still don't understand why Mikhail couldn't do this. I'm sure he must be going crazy not being with his wife."
"He probably is," she answered. Motioning for her to follow, Aleksandra walked with her to stand in front of the God's Glass. "Like I told you before, one of the things about this mirror is the ability to see the past, present, and possible future. The future, of course, depends on the choices made during present events. With so many people, it is constantly fluctuating. There are a few things, however, I can tell for certain when the different choices lead to only one future. That's the case with Mikhail rescuing Natalya. Every outcome results in their deaths, and I refuse to accept that. The one alternative is you. By including you instead of Mikhail, they live."
"You mentioned my ability to change my appearance. I've always been able to fade into the background, but that's it. It's basically just imagining myself as something else and no one noticing. I'm sure that won't help with this."
Freyja's eyes glittered. "Do what you did with Jakob. Imagine yourself looking like you did then."
Shrugging, Aleksandra closed her eyes and thought about the changes she'd done, trying to make herself disappear or, at least, look more German instead of Japanese. Her eyelids snapped open. Freyja had a knowing smirk on her face. She walked behind her and placed her hands on Aleksandra's shoulders and led her closer to the fireplace.
"Look in the mirror, young one," Freyja whispered in her ear.
Glancing up, Aleksandra's eyes widened as she stared at her reflection. The person staring back at her wasn't her—at least not the Aleksandra she knew. This woman had brown curly hair and brown eyes. The skin tone was several shades darker, and there were freckles on her nose and sprinkled across her cheeks. Her body was thicker, curvier. Raising her eyebrows, she shook her head, the long curls brushing her shoulders. "How is this even possible?" She reached out with her hand, as if to touch the mirror, but Freyja pulled back her hand, holding it between hers and patting the back.
"This is your magic, Aleksandra, and I'm quite certain you will discover even more wondrous abilities as time passes. Natalya has."
Aleksandra pressed her palm against her cheek then tugged on one of the brown curls, letting it spring back up. "Amazing." She pictured her own face and shape. With another glance at the mirrored surface, she smiled as her own face reflected back.
"You will be able to get into where Natalya's being held and facilitate her escape without any problems."
"All right, but what about little Aleksei? And the men? I promised George we would stay put. He killed his own brother to save Aleksei's life."
The goddess tucked a strand of Aleksandra's long black hair behind one ear then ran the back of her finger along her cheek. "Truly beautiful, inside and out. Always be proud of who you are and those who came before you. You are the sum of who they all were, and I heartily approve of the woman standing in front of me right now. Never forget that, Aleksandra." She smiled and tilted her head toward Idunn and the boy. "Go and say goodbye. He is in the best of hands."
Aleksandra knelt beside the sofa and relished the little arms that wound around her neck and his snuffly kisses on her cheek. Holding him close to her, she leaned back and kissed the tip of his little nose. "I will be right back, okay? Idunn and Freya will take good care of you—probably spoil your rotten while I'm gone."
Idunn's tinkling laugh filled the room. "Of course, we will. I will take him to my cottage where he can amuse himself with the small animals and run through the flowers, tiring himself out, so he will sleep tonight."
Aleksandra chuckled. "Sounds wonderful. I wish I could stay here and play instead of tangling with soldiers."
"Are you ready?" Freyja asked. When she nodded, the goddess raised her arm, whispered something unintelligible, then clapped once.
The room swirled, and Aleksandra pressed her hands over her stomach as it twisted and turned. She closed her eyes but snapped them open again as the queasy sensation increased. Freyja must have sent her via the express route because it seemed as if only a few moments passed before she found herself inside a small bathroom. She pictured the way she'd looked in the mirror earlier. This time, though, she wasn't as young or as pretty. She didn't want anyone to notice her at all.
Taking a deep breath, she tugged on her ugly green German uniform jacket and opened the door. She found herself standing in a dark but extra wide hallway. Glancing to her left, the hall ended a couple of feet from where she stood. Turning to her right, she noticed a pale-yellow light seeping underneath two of the closed doors closest to her. The third and last door located at the end of the hallway was also closed, the space between the door and sill also dark.
Convincing herself she could do this took more time than she thought possible. Finally, she made up her mind and mentally forced a bit of steel into her spine. As she was passing the first door, it opened and a man in a black uniform stepped out. Stepping sideways, she pressed her body against the cool stone.
He closed the door with a soft snick. With a disgusted scowl on his face, he tugged his hat onto his round head then turned on his heel and walked by her without even a glance—as if she weren’t even there. She stared after him, confused. Why hadn't he looked at her?
She wasn't about to discount her good fortune and continued. Moving past the second room, her steps slowed when she heard a drawer inside slam shut followed by a low murmur of at least two male voices. She stepped closer to listen but didn't hear anything from within.
Inhaling and stepping lightly, she crept to the end of the hall. With her hand on the knob, she slowly turned it and prayed the hinges wouldn't squeak. The door silently swung open to a set of wooden stairs going down. Staring into the darkness, she moved forward and closed the door behind her. She wouldn't be able to help rescue Natalya at all if she fell and broke her neck, so she used her hands and feet, lowering herself from one stair to the next.
Reaching the bottom, she almost breathed a sigh of relief as she stared down another long hallway, this one just as dim with only a few emergency lights along the top of the walls. She laid a hand on the wall and realized it was concrete. Walls, floor, and ceiling were all concrete—gray, dingy, and dismal.
Just as she was about to take a step forward, she heard something behind her. Turning, she saw a tall, thin man walking down the stairs toward her. Holding her breath, she pressed her body against the wall and, as before, he walked by her.
At the end of the hall, he turned right. Her lungs aching, she let out the pent-up air and followed. She stepped around the corner in time to see him step into a room. Thankfully, he left the door open. Moving into the room behind him, she caught a glimpse of Natalya tied to a chair in the center of the room. She'd expected to find her locked behind steel bars. She could work with this.
The man pulled something from his pocket and walked toward Natalya, talking to her in German, his words low and indistinct. Of all the languages to not know... She concentrated on what he'd said and was gobsmacked when she realized she understood some of what he'd said—something about telling him the truth and what she was doing here.
Aleksandra watched as her friend's eyes widened, and she saw real fear in their depths. Natalya struggled, moving side to side in her chair as she tried to get away. Holding her breath, Aleksandra snuck around the man to see what he'd pulled from his pocket—a syringe. Glancing around the room, she looked for anything she could use as a weapon but there was nothing. He reached for Natalya's arm.
"You don't want to do this," Natalya said. "You need to let me go." Surprisingly, Aleksandra watched the man hesitate, confusion on his face as he stared down at the syringe in his hand. "You have no need for the serum, so put it back in your pocket and leave here."
Aleksandra was beyond amazed when the man did
what Natalya told him. He pocketed the syringe and left the room without saying a word. What just happened? She turned back to Natalya, who stared at her with narrowed eyes.
"I know someone's there, so show yourself! Freyja, is that you?"
Aleksandra fought the urge to do as Natalya said. Instead, she tiptoed to the door and glanced out, making sure the man was gone. The hallway was empty. Exhaling, she turned to face her friend.
Natalya's worried expression morphed into fear as she stared at her, still not seeing her or realizing who she was. "Who are you?"
Aleksandra burst out laughing and allowed her image to return to normal. "Surprise! I heard you needed someone to rescue you."
Relief spread over Natalya's face. "Oh, thank goodness. You scared me to death. One minute no one was there, and the next, you appeared. Well, it wasn't you then it was. Your talent is so astounding." She waited while Aleksandra untied the ropes binding her wrists then leaned down and freed her ankles. Standing, she danced from one foot to the other and bent her arms. "Oh, the prickling hurts. I sat there so long, my arms and legs fell asleep."
She turned to face Aleksandra. "Now, tell me how in the hell you did that!" Just as quickly, she threw her arms around Aleksandra's neck and hugged her. "I'm so grateful you came for me. I thought Mikhail would..."
She rubbed her hand up and down her back, feeling her friend's slight trembling. "It's going to be okay. Mikhail is with Jakob."
Natalya pulled back and gave her a worried frown. "Why didn't he come for me?"
"Freyja said in every scenario she ran on the God's Glass with Mikhail rescuing you, each ended in either his or both of your deaths, so she changed the risk and sent me."
Dropping her head into her hands, Natalya groaned then raised her head again, a resigned expression on her face. "Fine then, let's get moving. Do you think your ability to disappear will extend to me?"
Aleksandra shrugged, sending her friend a worried glance. "I have no clue. We can attempt to escape without it, but something deep inside of me is telling me I should give it a try." She took a fortifying breathe. "Let's hope for the best and pray we don't get shot."
"Ha, ha, ha. Now you decide to be funny." Natalya's bi-colored gaze held hers. "I believe in you, Aleksandra. I always have."
With those words giving her a much-needed boost of strength, she grabbed Natalya's arm and pulled it through hers before clasping her hand. "Maybe it's as simple as me touching you. Let's give it a try."
They climbed the stairs and quietly closed the basement door behind them. Do you know where to go from here? Aleksandra followed Natalya's lead, their arms linked together, but as they walked around the building, she fell a step behind. She dropped Natalya's arm but kept her fingers tightly clasped in case they ran into someone. Hopefully, Natalya would disappear when she did.
"By the way," Aleksandra asked. "What was in that man's syringe?"
"That man was Heinrich Himmler himself. He told me it was a truth serum he'd been working on."
She stopped, pulling back on Natalya as she edged forward to peek around the corner. "Himmler? He has a truth serum? That would have been terrible. He could have found out about everything going on—and the goddesses."
"Yep," Natalya agreed. "It would have been catastrophic."
13
"So, where do we go from here?" Aleksandra asked, her gaze moving around the open space between buildings. She shivered from the chilly night air. Pulling her jacket closed, she zipped it, but the chill remained, settling into her bones. Turning her head, she stared into the trees. She couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched. "Natalya—"
"I know," she said in a low voice. "I feel it, too. I don't sense anyone nearby, though, so let's hurry." She pointed to the large building directly across from them. It looked more like a log cabin. She assumed it had to be the headquarters.
Pulling Natalya back to her side, Aleksandra wrapped her arm through her friend's, making sure they were touching. She hoped this worked—that her ability to disappear included Natalya. Moving closer to the trees where the shadows were heaviest, they walked, their steps in sync, as they made their way to the building. They ducked into the darkness hiding the massive logs on the rear side of the structure.
"There's a back door in the middle of this wall," Natalya whispered in her ear.
Aleksandra nodded and forced her feet to move, following Natalya's lead. They made it to the door without incident, but just as Natalya reached for the knob, they heard a noise, like the shaking of a leaf-covered branch, somewhere in the forest. It sounded close—too close for her comfort. Her heartbeat increased, and she was afraid whatever stalked them could hear it, too.
Natalya eased them off the stairs and crouched next to the small porch. More rustling sounded, this time closer. They waited. After five or so minutes, Natalya touched her arm and motioned with her thumb for her to rise. Just as she was about to stand, a man stepped from the forest, followed by the same monster she'd seen near Kursk with Jakob. The man's blond hair drew her attention as it glistened in the moonlight.
Easing as low as they could to the ground, they held their breath to see where the two went. The werewolf lifted its face in the air and sniffed. To their surprise, though, it glanced over in the opposite direction and loped way. The man, however, walked to the door and entered without noticing them but left the door partially open behind him.
Natalya caught her gaze and raised her eyebrows, indicating the door with a tilt of her head. Aleksandra shrugged then jerked her chin toward the door. It was now or never. The man could be waiting for them, or he'd left the door open for another reason—maybe the return of the beast. It didn't matter, though; they had to take that chance and get inside.
Gripping Natalya's arm, they crept into the cabin, but the main area was empty. Glancing around the room, she decided in different circumstances, she would have liked the space, especially the cathedral ceiling with the large beams breaking up the white expanse. She liked the rock fireplace as well but wished there was a cozy fire crackling and logs popping, so she could warm up. Rubbing her arms from the outside chill, she followed Natalya into a long hallway where she stopped next to an open doorway. Inside the room, two men talked in hushed tones, but their words were easily understandable.
"Mein Führer, the werewolves are patrolling the grounds, and the compound has been locked down for the night. I received a telegram from Heydrich. He is at Vilna with Einsatzgruppen Nine to inspect his new contraption to speed up your final solution and eventual liquidation of the camps. He will send a report as soon as the process is complete."
"Good, good, Martin. And what of Eichmann and our escape routes?"
"As we speak, Telefunken is installing the towers in Spain and South America. Eichmann is also setting up Die Spinne in Barcelona with the Gran Teatre del Licea as its headquarters. He will let us know when the routes have been finalized and the necessary preparations begun."
Natalya's fingernails dug into Aleksandra's arm at what they'd just overheard. Footsteps drew nearer, and a man's backside appeared in the doorway. They pressed themselves against the wall and held their breath. In her mind, Aleksandra pictured their bodies disappearing with only the wood-slatted wall visible.
"Get some sleep, mein Führer, we will leave for Berlin early in the morning."
"Good night, my friend."
From the way Hitler addressed him, as well as the man's homely face, Aleksandra recognized this man as Martin Bormann. She'd read an article about him in Pravda, Russia's main newspaper. She watched Bormann shut the bedroom door then turn and walk to another room a few feet away and disappear inside, the door closing behind him.
Natalya let out her held breath. With a hand over her chest, she closed her eyes then popped them open again. "That was way too close, but your ability to become invisible is so cool!"
"I don't think we're invisible—not really, just camouflaged to blend into our surroundings."
"I don't car
e what we are, as long as no one sees us. With werewolves patrolling the compound and the two most deadly people on this continent nearby, my internal warning system is shrieking at me to get out of here."
"Mine, too. Now, what are we going to do? How are we going to get inside Hitler's room and, more importantly, how are you supposed to convince him to do what Freyja wants?"
Natalya smiled and wiggled her brows. "Okay, Freyja, send it now." She held out her hands, and something small and white appeared. She unfolded the material and held it up for Aleksandra to see. It reminded her of a chef's coat.
"What are you doing?" Aleksandra asked.
As Natalya shrugged into the coat, a tray appeared in front of them, holding a steaming mug and a small dessert plate with several scones on it. Natalya reached for the tray, carrying it with one hand while softly knocking on the door with the other.
"Enter," Hitler commanded.
Natalya turned the knob and walked into the room as if she had every right to be there. Aleksandra peeked in, not daring to go in any farther, and watched her friend waltz over to Hitler, who was seated in a chair under a large window. She placed the mug on the table beside him then the dessert plate.
"Thank you, fräulein."
Natalya gave a quick curtsy, but just as she was about to turn away, she stopped and whispered something to him. Hitler's face went slack, his eyes blank. Natalya whispered again and the führer nodded. Aleksandra noticed Hitler's head shake, as if coming out of a dream. He reached for a scone and took a bite before turning back to his newspaper.
Natalya closed the door behind her and smirked. "Impressive, isn't it?"
"I would be more impressed if I knew what you just did. What did you say to him?" They heard a door slam somewhere in the house, followed by the heavy clomping of boots coming toward them.
"I told him he needed to pull his tank regiments from Kursk and use them to rescue Mussolini, who is failing to hold Italy. Freyja has asked friends of hers to help bring the Italian dictator down."
Aleksandra Page 14