"I was in and out of their small camp before they could realize someone was there. When I don't want to be seen, I'm not. Just like you, brother. Did you know your German name means ‘ancient deceiver’? Quite amusing, that."
The poet focused his gaze deeper into the forest, tired of hearing what the horrendous name meant. "I knew that when I chose the name. Have you news?"
"Our instructions have not changed. We are to continue aiding and creating as much chaos as possible. What do you expect to gain from these poems of yours?"
"I hoped they would have figured out the meaning of the poem sooner, but the girl and her man are where they're supposed to be. To stop the advancement of the plan we inadvertently set in motion, they must solve the second poem now. Time is running out for everyone." He turned to face his twin. “What do I expect to gain, Brother? Liberation—the Allies and ours."
17
Aleksandra
It was the morning of the uprising. Dawn had come and gone, and the fighting progressed at a snail's pace. Mikhail and Bernard hoped to have taken control of the ghetto sooner than this. They still had hope of winning as more and more partisan fighters arrived. The Germans, though, seemed to have a never-ending supply of men as reinforcements appeared each time they brought down the front line.
She and Natalya had been put in charge of the women and children and had positioned themselves with the ghetto's outside wall to their left and what used to be a house behind them. The windows and doors had been sealed with anything solid the prisoners could find so no one could sneak up behind them and effectively encircle them as the Germans liked to do.
"Talya, to your left!" Mikhail hollered toward them.
Aleksandra had just enough time to turn her head before the SS officer rose up, gun aimed at Natalya. Rifle on shoulder, she waited for a clear line of sight. As if they'd choreographed the motion, her friend edged sideways and Aleksandra pulled the trigger, a hole blossoming between the man's eyes. The body hadn't even fallen when another Nazi rounded the corner. She fired again and he, too, went down.
Reloading, she loosened her grip and waited, knowing there would be more coming at them. The men could only hold so many off at a time, and if something didn't change soon, they would have to retreat. Behind her, she heard a harsh pssst. Turning, she caught a glimpse of a woman standing just inside the doorway, her body mostly hidden by the wood frame, but it was impossible not to notice her gauntness. Salt and pepper hair had been pulled back and held with a kerchief. Her dress was threadbare and filthy. The woman's face was lined but at one time must have been quite attractive.
"Bring us the Germans' weapons, and we will fight. Everyone, including the older children, need to do something. We cannot just sit here and wait."
Aleksandra understood how the woman felt. She grabbed her friend's arm. "Natalya, help me gather as many of the fallen soldiers' guns for those inside the houses."
"Excellent idea. From what I can see, we need all the assistance we can get."
They left the safety of their isolated spot and gathered almost thirty weapons, including any ammunition they could easily grab as well as a few knives and bayonets. They handed everything to the women.
"Do you know how to use them?" Natalya asked.
"We all know how to shoot—as do the children." The woman untangled a small boy, who had a tight grip around her leg, and stepped from the house. "So you can fight with your men, I will continue to gather ammunition and weapons and distribute them to the others hiding out in the surrounding buildings. It is the least I can do. We have prayed a long time for this day, and I refuse to just sit in a dark house and not do something to regain our freedom."
Aleksandra laid her hand on the woman's thin shoulder. "I, for one, welcome your aid. What is your name?"
"Alicja."
"I'm Aleksandra. Is there someone inside who can help you?"
The woman nodded and called to someone named Lena. A younger woman stepped through the door. She wasn't as gaunt as Alicja, and she wore her blonde hair in a long braid down her back. Her dress didn't look as well worn, so she must not have been in the camp long. Lena's blue gaze met hers. From the stoic expression on the young woman's face, Aleksandra knew she was the perfect person to take charge. Both women were.
"Alicja, Lena, set up your best shooters at strategic spots inside the house—all windows and doors. If you can, make small holes in the wall to shoot through. Tell everyone with a gun to take a calming breath before they fire. This will help keep their aim true. Every shot in this war counts."
Lena threw back her shoulders. "We will make them all count." She walked back into the dim interior. Aleksandra could hear her barking out commands and then soothing the littler ones a moment later.
"She's an amazing woman," Aleksandra said, glanced to see what Natalya was looking at.
"They all are." Natalya's gaze followed Alicja, who already had several guns and rifles cradled in her arms and was hurrying toward the nearest house where she disappeared the moment the door cracked open.
"Mikhail needs us to move closer to the building. He said something's going on, and they need your sniper skills."
Aleksandra followed behind Natalya as they dodged and darted through the ongoing battle. Mikhail pointed to a covered area behind the line of partisans as they tried to keep the Germans away from those inside. Aleksandra chose a good spot and lay down, already lining up her first target. Closing her eyes, the slight breeze brushed across her face. She adjusted her aim, let out her breath, and pulled the trigger. The soldier dropped, never knowing what hit him.
Shot after shot, she continued, unmindful the Germans would try to take her out and praying the partisans would keep them away. She was also thankful Natalya had her back and made sure no one snuck up on them from behind. Moving the end of her rifle further to the right, she was about to fire when something dark and heavy poured through her. She hesitated, her body leaden.
Aleksandra...
She almost missed Jakob's whisper, his voice soft and filled with pain. She reached out, trying to hold onto the mind link. Jakob! Are you okay? She waited for a reply but heard only the screams and gunshots of the battle raging around her. I need you to answer me! There was only silence.
A feeling of sorrow overwhelmed her, and she dropped her head, her forehead slamming onto her arm. She cried out, unable to control the pain surging through her head and body. Jakob was in terrible trouble. Somehow, she needed to get to him.
"The men are storming the building!" Natalya shouted. Aleksandra felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her, and she let out a low moan. "Aleksandra!” She heard the fear in her best friend's voice, but the pain coursing through her was too great, and she lay there, unmoving. "Aleksandra! Are you injured?"
She forced her head to turn to one side and saw the worry etched on her friend's face. "No...not me. Jakob." Her voice came out in gasps as she tried to breathe through the pain. "He's been injured...badly." Forcing her sluggish body to move, she tried to stand, thankful when Natalya helped her the rest of the way up.
"You're sure?" Natalya asked.
"I need to get inside, or he's not going to make it." Tears pooled in her eyes, and her vision blurred. “He’s dying, Natalya.”
Her friend’s face hardened. “No. He’s not going to die—we will never let that happen.” She glanced around then took hold of Aleksandra’s arm, hesitating just long enough to grab Aleksandra’s rifle with her own. She pulled her away from the battle and moved into the woods. “Mikhail says this way is clear and leads to the back of the building where we can get in.”
Aleksandra stumbled over rocks and a few tree roots that had grown over the path but righted herself and tried to keep pace with Natalya. They made it to the back of the large structure but standing on either side of the door were several German guards. The women ducked, but not fast enough as the Nazis fired a volley of bullets, forcing them to scramble for cover behind an overgrown bush.
“Na
talya, I don’t have enough bullets.” At that moment, a feeling of rightness settled over her as she remembered Freyja’s words. She knew what she must do and that she would succeed because living in a world without Jakob wasn’t an option. Somewhere during all the chaos and death, she discovered the man she wanted to give her heart to. She had found Jakob.
“I’m going inside but need you to stay here. Freyja told me to believe in myself, and I know I can find him without being seen.”
“Like when you rescued me.”
Aleksandra nodded. “I thought it was a fluke and that you or the others had just overlooked me. I know now it was me all along, making myself invisible, or nearly so. I don’t know how or why and don’t care. If this ability helps to save Jakob’s life, I will gladly use it.”
Natalya gave her a quick hug then took her rifle and cradled it against her chest. Her eyes widened as Aleksandra envisioned her body as nothing more than a glimmer, without form or substance. Glancing down, she held out her hands and only saw a vague outline of her fingers, wrists, and arms. Sending Freyja another mental thank-you, she stepped out from behind the bush and walked toward the building, stepping this way and that as she maneuvered around the men milling in the doorway.
Once inside, she let her eyes adjust to the dim interior and hurried toward a stairwell at the end of the room. She hesitated at the base of the stairs, not knowing which way to go. Closing her eyes, she focused on the sensation of sorrow and loss she’d felt earlier and grasped at the thin thread, faded but still there. Latching on to it, she hurried up the stairwell, letting it guide her to one door in particular. Inside, the strong coppery odor of blood filled her nostrils. She ignored the rows of shelves lying on top of each other and the small round canisters scattered across the floor. Stepping over them and kicking a few out of her way, she heard a muffled cry. Returning her body to normal, she hurried across the room to the far wall. Peering underneath the last shelf, she saw part of a man’s face beneath a mound of more black canisters.
“You must stay quiet,” he whispered. “There is a monster in here with us.”
“Shhh. Stay still and I’ll get you out of here.” She carefully removed the mass covering him and was able to lift the shelf just enough, so he could pull out his trapped leg. “Hold still for a moment.” She lightly pressed along his leg, making sure it wasn’t broken. “Can you stand?”
He nodded. “I think so, but don’t worry about me. We must help Jakob. He fought the beast, but I haven’t heard a sound from either of them in the last few minutes. He was dismantling the control panel and was near the middle of the wall...”
Without waiting for the man to finish, she hurried back to room’s center where the other half of the shelves remained standing. She skidded to a stop, slipping in a large pool of blood. Holding back a sob, she looked down the aisle. Taking up the aisle’s narrow space was the body of a werewolf. She edged closer. The first thing she noticed was the carved handle of a knife sticking out from the beast’s eye.
She pressed a hand over her abdomen, her stomach rebelling. Forcing her feet to step over then around the fur-covered limbs, she made her way toward the back wall. There, lying on the floor just past the leaning shelves was Jakob.
With a sob, she dropped to her knees by his side. He was too pale and covered in blood. Holding her hands over him, she wasn’t sure what to do or where to look first. From his blood-soaked, shredded shirt, he was injured, and she didn’t want to cause him any more pain. Scooting closer, she gently raised his head to her lap. She forced away the panic and focused her mind. Jakob needed her to be strong.
“Jakob, I’m here.” She smoothed the hair from his forehead. Beneath his eyelids, his eyes moved from side to side, then cracked open.
“Aleksandra, danger—"
“Shhh. You killed him, Jakob.” She continued smoothing his hair, letting her fingers brush through the dark strands like she’d wanted to do so often. A shout came from somewhere below along with a volley of shots. “Listen, Jakob. We’ve taken the building. Mikhail and Natalya will be here soon and will make everything better.” The shouting drew closer, and she heard Natalya’s voice.
“I’m...sorry...” Jakob’s eyes began to close.
“You have nothing to apologize for, but you must hold on, darling. I need you to live.” Resting her hand over his heart, she felt his heartbeat stutter. “No!” she cried. “Jakob, fight!” His face blurred, and she wiped away the tears that landed on his cheek.
Freyja! I need you to save him,” she pleaded.
Freyja appeared, her form shimmering in a golden light just as Natalya raced into the room. Grabbing the metal door, she slammed it shut behind her. The goddess knelt beside them and placed her hand over his forehead for a moment then turned her amethyst gaze on her. “Do you love him, young one?”
Tears falling down her cheeks, Aleksandra nodded. “More than anything, I love him with all I am.”
Freyja didn’t smile, her expression remaining serious. “He is almost gone, but Idunn and I will do what we can.” She gathered Jakob in her arms, as if he weighed nothing, and stood. “You must continue to fight. There is more at risk than you know.” Freyja and Jakob began to fade. “Figure out the second poem, Aleksandra. It is the answer you seek to finish your quest.”
When they were gone, she dropped her face into her hands and sobbed. She felt Natalya beside her and let her friend pull her into her comforting embrace as she cried. She wept for all that had been lost, her family and home—and now, Jakob.
“They will save him, you must believe that,” Natalya said, rocking them back and forth.
Aleksandra felt others close by but no longer cared who they were or why they were there. She only wanted Jakob and prayed the goddesses would save him like they’d saved her. Time slowed. Spent and thoroughly exhausted, she fell into a fitful sleep, only waking when her body was jostled as someone picked her up. Cracking open her eyes, she saw a blood-splattered wall and realized whoever held her was walking down the stairs. Her eyes closed again, the last thing she noticed was the cool breeze once again caressing her skin, washing away the coppery stench of blood.
Aleksandra awakened. She stretched, relishing the gentle popping of her spine and the release of her muscles. She opened her eyes and the memories of what happened swamped her mind. Forcing her body to sit up, she realized she had been brought back to their hideout.
The low murmur of several voices somewhere nearby drew her attention, and she tried to hear what they said but couldn't. She studied the cave wall across from her, her gaze following a long crack from ceiling to floor, as she relived everything that had happened. She said a prayer that Jakob was healing and would return soon. He listened to every word she said, making her feel important, and that her ideas and feelings were important. She also liked how he did the same with others. When he voiced his opinion, she'd noticed how Bernard and Mikhail usually did what Jakob suggested. It amazed her.
She had felt the growing rage deep inside of him, pushing his moods and decisions. It hadn't taken her long to figure out he used that anger to fuel whatever he needed it for without Freyja telling her. When he finally shared with her about his parents' arrest and incarceration in one of the camps, he had seemed so destroyed. Many times since, she had wanted to ask him questions about his family and growing up in Germany but couldn't bring herself to voice them. For his sake, she hoped his parents were well, but after watching how the Vilna prisoners were treated and the Nazis total lack of compassion for life in general, she wasn't certain the Matthaus were even alive.
Remembering Freyja's warning—she needed to work out the meaning behind the new poem. With a sigh, she grabbed her pack and pulled the folded paper from the outside pocket where she'd found it. The pad of her finger traced over the soft stationary. She opened the closed flap and held it up to the light pouring in through the cave's entrance. Woven throughout it were expensive silk fibers.
Almost like the first, this one was titl
ed, One by Two. She read through the poem then started over, this pass slower. Battle cries sound, The horde awaits. Time spins fast, Revolving in hate. Now, pasts are relived, All futures changed. Unrelenting, beasts attack, The world writhes in pain. Death steals the innocent, Violence grows. Man's quest for power, Evil, the unstoppable foe. Misdeeds are sown, Crows carry tales. Known to the Father, Chaos assails.
She scowled at the words, frustration and disgust rearing their ugly heads. Thinking back to the first poem, she remembered the meaning behind the title. The first title was the second word in the second line, so maybe this one meant the first word in the second line? She reread each line once more and decided it was like a smoke screen. The poet didn't want just anyone to figure out his clues. She picked out the first words from the first and third lines and discovered, like the first poem, this sequence also had meaning.
"Natalya, Mikhail, come in here!" she cried out before thinking it might not be her friends outside the cave. Natalya rushed in, a worried frown on her face, followed by Mikhail then Bernard. Seeing her friends and not Nazi soldiers, she exhaled in relief. Holding up her hand, she gave them a wry grin. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, but I think I figured out the meaning hidden in the second poem."
Natalya's brows rose. "Really? That's great. What is it?"
Aleksandra patted the stony ground next to her. "Sit and I'll read it aloud so you can decide for yourselves." She waited until they were settled then read the poem aloud, "The title of this one is 'One by Two.' ‘Battle cries sound, The horde awaits. Time spins fast, Revolving in hate. Now, pasts are relived, All futures are changed. Unrelenting, beasts attack, The world writhes in pain. Death steals the innocent, Violence grows. Man's quest for power, Evil, the unstoppable foe. Misdeeds are sown, Crows carry tales. Known to the Father, Chaos assails.’"
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