Nevertell

by Katharine Orton

  “No, C-Commandant,” Lina stuttered. “Not funny.” She couldn’t stop trembling. His gaze on her was terrifying.

  “Were you mocking me as you planned it? Laughing behind my back?”

  “No, Commandant.”

  He pulled his mouth into a thin, joyless line. Were those tears in his eyes? “Your mother’s in the karker, and it’s killing her. Of course, she won’t ask for mercy. I would let her out, you know. All she has to do is ask, but she’s too proud. Always too proud.” Those were definitely tears. He wiped them away with the back of his sleeve. Lina knew then: He would always blame other people for the things he did.

  Her fear curdled into rage in an instant, and then it exploded. “You’re right — she is proud. She would never ask for help from someone like you!”

  Lina’s mother had done everything she could to keep Lina safe. To help the people who came to her in the hospital. To make life in the camp livable. She had a right to be proud. What had Commandant Zima done? Killed Lina’s uncle. Terrorized them all.

  Zima looked like he’d been hit in the face. He flushed bright red. “You have no idea what I’ve done for you and your mother. What I’ve sacrificed.”

  The commandant lunged toward her. Lina’s legs finally came unstuck. She sprang forward. But it wasn’t that easy to dodge Zima. He grabbed her arm and held it tight. His grip reminded her of Alexei’s, when he’d lifted her off her feet and carried her behind the snowbank. It felt like a whole lifetime ago. And yet, here she was, back where she’d started.

  He wrenched her arm as he dragged her out of the greenhouse and down the gravel path. With every trip and stumble, he yanked her back up.

  “You’re hurting me. Stop!” cried Lina. He didn’t stop, and Lina understood then that he meant to hurt her.

  “I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” was all he said. “You, of all people.”

  Lina knew where he was taking her: to the karker. To join her mother. They passed through the assembly square, where all the prisoners were lined up, ready to start their day’s labor. Many looked around when they heard Commandant Zima coming, and when they saw Lina, they nudged others, who looked too. Even the guards swiveled around to see what all the commotion was about. Lina dug in her heels and shouted again for the commandant to stop.

  To her surprise, he did stop this time. Lina found herself thrown to the ground at the center of the square. In front of everybody.

  She got to her feet, shakily, and dusted down her tunic as she’d seen Svetlana do. She even snapped her heels together. Then she raised her chin and looked Commandant Zima in the eye. “You’re going to regret hurting me,” she said.

  She noticed Zima’s trembling hand was holding a pistol. He was still furious. She held his gaze. It was unbearable to look at his face, all blotchy and red with anger, his eyes so big and round. But she did.

  “What?” he said. His voice came out in a quiet hiss. This was dangerous.

  “Don’t you know what I am?” said Lina. This time, she raised her voice so everyone could hear. It echoed around the silent square. The prisoners, and even the other guards, seemed to hold their breath. “I’m beyond your control, that’s what. And I’m here with my friends to set all these people free.”

  Amurmur went up among the men and women assembled in the square.

  Lina didn’t feel real anymore. It was as though she were soaring high above, looking down on herself, on Zima, and on all the people who outnumbered the guards — ten to one at least. What was it Svetlana and Bogdan had said? Don’t do anything foolish. Wait until you hear us coming before you act.

  Too late for that.

  “I can do magic now,” said Lina with pride, “just like my grandmother. If you don’t know about her, you should. She turns people into ghosts.” As if answering her, the peach pit grew warmer. Lina spoke loudly — she was addressing the crowd, not the commandant. She scanned every face until she found Keskil’s. “People call her the Man Hunter,” she said.

  “The Man Hunter?” The crowd turned to look at Keskil, who’d spoken. “I’ve heard these stories before. Everyone in Siberia knows and fears the Man Hunter.”

  “Well, she’ll be here any moment with my friends”— Lina turned back to the commandant —“and a hundred or more ghost wolves to liberate this camp. How do you think I got back here and am wearing these clothes? How do you think I survived, when no others ever have? Keskil, Tuyaara is with them. She’s coming for you!”

  Commandant Zima laughed. The sound was cutting. “Folktales. Stories and gossip from the mouths of dim-witted peasants; that’s all it is. You’re nothing but a liar. You’ve no doubt been hiding in a foxhole somewhere.”

  Lina pulled the rye seed she’d taken from the greenhouse out of her pocket. “I’ll prove it to you, then. Just watch. I’ll show you what I can do.” She held the seed at arm’s length, inside her fist. Focus. Her hand tingled and grew warm. Something living nudged at her palm, she was sure of it. She parted her fingers.

  Nothing.

  The rye seed remained exactly the same as before.

  The commandant had watched with a look of horror. Now he laughed again. His eyes glistened and he wiped them on his coat sleeve. “Enough of your nonsense.”

  “Commandant,” called one of the guards.

  The corners of Zima’s mouth twitched with irritation. “What is it?” For a moment, he took his eyes off Lina — and froze.

  Lina dared to look as well. The prisoners had broken their lines and come closer.

  “Get back, you animals,” hollered Zima.

  No one moved.

  “Get back, I said. Guards!”

  The guards looked around, worried and confused. It was only supposed to be a simple morning assembly, after all — business as usual, before they took the prisoners to the mess hall and then on to the mine. Lina had witnessed thousands of mornings like this one. There was never any trouble — not before breakfast. The guards weren’t used to this.

  Lina seized the moment. “What if they don’t get back in line? You can’t shoot us all.”

  More low murmuring buzzed around the square, like a swarm of bees. More prisoners edged forward. Where Lina stood with Zima, it was starting to feel crowded.

  “Come now,” called out one of the braver guards, some distance away. Perhaps it was that very distance that made him brave. “Your motherland requires you to work in the mines. This is where you belong now. You are lucky to have been granted your lives — but that right can be taken away too.”

  Lina glanced back at Commandant Zima to see what he would do or say next. All the attention — all the pressure — had shifted off her and onto him. He must’ve felt the shift too, because his face was a mask of fury. Could it be that he’d realized what serious trouble he might be in?

  He raised his pistol and aimed it into the crowd.

  “Go ahead, Zima,” came the voice of one of the prisoners. “Waste your bullets. What will you do when they’re gone?”

  Another voice shouted, “You’d need reinforcements to take us all on. And how far away are they, out here? A week by train, at least . . .”

  Lina smiled. Something was happening. Something invisible but very real. Suddenly, the people weren’t prisoners anymore.

  Commandant Zima felt it too. Lina could tell. He knew he didn’t stand a chance.

  When he turned back to Lina, though, his face was set with new determination. The hand holding the pistol was still trembling with anger. Lina winced and took a step back.

  And then a howl rang out. Followed by a whole chorus of howls.

  “Wolves,” someone shouted. “Inside the camp!”

  Chaos broke loose.

  The prisoners and guards fled. People ran between Lina and the commandant, knocking his pistol out of his hand. Lina took her chance. She darted away — in the direction of the karker.

  As she ran, she glanced toward the wire. A haze of ice crystals billowed there, kicked up by the commotion.
Then, through the sparkling mist, lights emerged, more than she could even count, seemingly floating in thin air. Lina realized what they were: oil lamps. The shadows!

  Among them, three gaunt figures emerged. One tall. One thin. One small. Alexei, Old Gleb, and Vadim. They were like skeletons, walking in a dream.

  But where were Bogdan, Tuyaara, and her brothers? Svetlana? Lina hoped they were safe.

  Lina dodged around a man and then crawled between the legs of one of the guards. She had to keep moving or she’d be in danger of getting trampled in the panic. All she could think about was reaching the karker. Freeing her mother. She had no idea how, though.

  There were fewer people away from the square, and as she ran past the block that had once been Bogdan’s sleeping quarters, Lina could see the entrance to the karker just a short sprint away. From here it looked unguarded. She made a dash for it . . .

  Straight into what felt like a wall. She fell to the floor and found herself staring at Commandant Zima’s polished leather boots.

  “You really thought it would be that easy?” Commandant Zima reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, right at the scalp. It burned. Lina cried out in pain and swung her leg. By chance, she caught him on the shin.

  Now it was his turn to cry out in pain.

  “You were supposed to be better than the rest of them here,” hissed Zima. “My child. A respectful, obedient daughter.” For the first time ever, he sounded wounded. But it didn’t take long for the edge to come back into his voice. “When you were born, I was so happy. But if I’d known you’d be so ungrateful, I’d have taken you from Katya and left you out in the snow.”

  Lina felt sick. The rumors were true. The commandant was her father. Tears stung her eyes. After all this time, she finally knew the truth. And the truth couldn’t have been worse.

  The peach pit began to pulse with sharp bursts of heat — one, two, three — and then again, just as it had before their confrontation with Svetlana after they’d escaped from the train. Was it trying to tell her something? It was growing hotter and hotter.

  Zima was still talking. “Look at you.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “My own flesh and blood. This small, pathetic creature, groveling on the ground. Now you know how it feels to be humiliated.”

  Wave upon wave of numbness crashed over Lina. Her mind felt detached from her body, as though she were watching herself in a daze. How could this man be her father?

  Lina tried to block out the commandant’s words — and the fact that he’d just admitted to being her father. The peach pit was her only concern now. If she could make it grow, she might be able to shock and maybe even frighten Zima, and that might give her enough time to get away from him. But the seed in the square hadn’t grown. Perhaps planting it in the ground would give it the best chance to grow. She dug down with her foot.

  She needed to distract him from what she was doing. “Your child or not,” she said, “I’m the same person I ever was. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change who I am.” She’d almost finished digging. “I’m not a ‘creature’ either. I’m a human being, like you are. Just because you wear a uniform, that doesn’t make you better or more important than me — or any of us.”

  The hole was ready. “And another thing.” Lina scowled up at Commandant Zima — her father. “I’m not groveling.” She dug under her tunic and tugged the necklace. Its string snapped. The tiny beads tumbled away and scattered across the floor. The peach pit rolled across the ground in its lopsided way. Lina reached for it.

  Zima’s boot came down hard on her hand.

  “What have you got there?” he said. He crushed her hand harder with his boot. Lina cried out and let go. Zima scrutinized it from above. “Ah. A pit of some sort. That’s unusual. Where did you get it?” Without pausing for an answer, he took his boot off her hand — and brought the heel of it down hard on the peach pit.

  Lina heard it crack. When he lifted his boot, she could see a deep split. Zima brought his heel down again. And again. The peach pit splintered into fragments, which he ground into the snow.

  Lina could only watch as her peach pit was destroyed.

  Lina’s hand was bluish-white. She was having trouble moving it. Her eyes watered when she tried. Nothing was as bad as the pain in her heart, though. When she’d declared to the crowd that she could do magic, she’d believed in herself. She’d felt like she could do anything.

  Now, the truth hit her hard. She wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as her grandmother. Against Commandant Zima, she was helpless. He seemed to read her mind. “Did you really believe all that rubbish you spouted, back in the square?” he said. “Did you really think you could take me on with parlor tricks?”

  Zima laughed. Lina winced. Was it her turn, now, to be crushed by his boot?

  “Your mother will spend her last hours in the karker,” he stated. “We’ll have this little riot put down by the afternoon. Such a shame . . . You amounted to nothing in the end. And there I was, with such high hopes.”

  On the ground, where it had rolled, lay the larger bead with its note inside. The note from Svetlana — to Lina’s grandfather. As she watched, the moth crawled out, as if to see the devastation for itself. It opened up its little frayed wings, testing them for flight.

  Lina’s eyes widened. Where fragments of the peach pit had been, now there were pockmarks in the snow. Had the pieces melted through it?

  They must still be warm. Even in fragments, the pit still had its power. To grow? She’d find out.

  Lina felt a burning, electric heat in her heart. It traveled through her blood. Her whole body tingled. Nothing would go back to the way it was. She wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t. She closed her eyes and remembered being in the Ural Mountains with Svetlana and Bogdan, on their long journey back to the camp. The way the high altitude and the sun had made her feel. She was filled to bursting with power. Now, to release it.

  Lina dug her fingers under the snow. “Grow,” she urged. “Grow!”

  Everything that was left of the peach pit grew.

  Commandant Zima leaped backward. Where the fragments of the peach pit had been, hundreds of tiny green shoots pushed their way out of the ground, clawing at his boots like baby hands. They thickened out in an instant, driving sharp branches toward him, covered in papery green leaves.

  Lina barely noticed Commandant Zima backing away. She was drawing strength along millions of roots and pushing out more branches, until trees, ripe with peaches, began to spring up all around her. Her thoughts fluttered in thousands of leaves.

  Without a word or another glance at Lina — his own daughter — the commandant turned and fled. Lina was alone.

  “I thought we told you not to do anything foolish,” boomed a voice from behind her. Lina knew who it was before she even turned. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  Svetlana — with Bogdan next to her.

  Lina pulled her thoughts back into herself. It felt like tugging on thousands of tiny ropes, which all gave way at the same time. She fell back onto the ground, in the shade of a crescent of peach trees, branches bending and creaking with fruit. Bogdan helped her up. She took his hand and smiled. “Turned into the ‘attack and attack’ technique again, didn’t it?” she said breathlessly. He just grinned and shook his head.

  Svetlana’s stern face, usually like a carved block of ice, trembled with emotion.

  Lina left Bogdan beneath the rustling leaves and stumbled to her grandmother. Her head still hurt, and the blood was only just returning to the hand Commandant Zima had crushed. Svetlana stayed very still as Lina came closer.

  Lina didn’t know what she was going to do until she got close. Then her feelings overwhelmed her. She threw her arms around Svetlana’s waist and buried her head in her woolen coat. Svetlana went rigid with surprise. Then she softened.

  Lina smiled. “Thank you for coming, Babushka. And for keeping me and Bogey out of trouble.”

  A crackle of gunfire went off. The guard
s were fighting back.

  Lina tensed. “Aren’t Tuyaara and her brothers out there? And Natalya?” She couldn’t sense Natalya as she usually could, and she guessed she must be leading the other shadows.

  Svetlana pushed Lina away, gently but firmly. “Yes, they are. But you must go and rescue your mother,” she said. “Bogdan and I can deal with this.”

  Bogdan peered around the peach trees he’d been marveling at, startled. “Er — can we?”

  Lina nodded. She was certain that they could.

  Lina sprinted down the tunnel toward the karker. The narrow passageway sloped at a shocking rate and was dark and dank, with a smell like old leaves and filth. Her mother had spent days in this awful place. How could anyone put another human being somewhere like this?

  The pounding and splashing of Lina’s feet echoed off the walls. Finally she reached a locked door at the end of the tunnel. She could only just make it out in the gloom.

  “Mamochka?”

  “Lina!” Her mother’s dirt-flecked face appeared at the bars in the door. She reached her trembling fingers through as far as they would go, so she could just about stroke Lina’s hair. “Lina, you’re alive?” her voice rasped. “But what on earth are you doing back?”

  Lina grasped her mother’s fingers, ignoring the pain in her own bad hand, and hugged them. For a moment, she couldn’t speak — or find the words, even if she’d wanted to.

  “Come on, my little one. Pull yourself together and get me out, will you? What’s going on out there?”

  “You . . .”

  Lina whirled around to see the guard, Danill, blocking the tunnel. He looked scared, and he was breathing fast. “It’s really you, Lina. But how? All that chaos out there — is that your doing?”

  Lina stood straight. “Yes,” she said. “Me and my friends. We’re liberating the camp. It won’t be long now before the guards are totally overthrown. So it’ll be best for you — for all of us — if you let Mamochka go free. Now is your chance to get out of this place too, Danill. You must want that.”