by Unknown
"You'd better stick with us," Billi said. Ivan stopped by the car door and looked clown at the pistol clipped to his belt. Billi knew exactly what he was thinking. How he wanted to take that pistol, put the barrel against Koshchey's head and pull the trigger. "Ivan, you'll get your chance. But we've got to get Vasilisa. She has to be our priority." Ivan nodded, his honor as a Bogatyr guiding his decision.
Billi respected him even more than she had before. She touched his arm. "Don't pack. Just find out what you can— if Koshchey has any leads he's not sharing. We'll call my dad on another line and plan our next step."
"Which is?"
"Buggered if I know." She needed a phone. "Dad was looking for Vasilisa's grandmother. The woman knew a lot about Baba Yaga. He's hoping she might point him in the right direction. He thinks the witch is nearby; the area's been flooded with wolves. But it's all just guesswork. We don't know anything for sure."
Billi looked up at the moon. Almost full.
"We have to stop her, Ivan."
Ivan opened the car door and squeezed Billi's hand.
"I will help you, Billi SanGreal."
A crash on the motorway meant it took them almost three hours to get back to the Ministry, and Billi couldn't think for the turmoil her emotions were in.
How could they have known that Koshchey was a monster? That the Bogatyrs had become human traffickers?
Lance had suspected Koshchey was no good, but never that the entire order had been corrupted so swiftly.
Ivan was right: Koshchey had to die.
But not today.
As they entered the lobby they passed two of the Bogatyrs, who each nodded to Ivan.
"You get Lance and Gwaine. I'll get Elaine," Billi murmured, glancing at the large clock above the main staircase. It was two in the morning. "I'll meet you in the garage in ten minutes."
Minutes later Billi banged on the library door.
"Elaine, you in there?"
A book slammed onto the floor, and Elaine, glasses resting on her forehead, stared at Billi, rubbing her eyes.
"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded. She took hold of Billi's sleeve and dragged her in, shutting the door behind her. "You have got to see this."
"We don't have time." Billi tried to resist, but the old woman wouldn't let her go.
Books from the Bogatyr library covered the entire floor. Old books and scrolls were scattered over a dining table. Lance was right: Elaine was in research heaven. A mattress and blanket lay on the polished wooden floor. So this was where Elaine was sleeping. Billi had guessed as much. She glanced over the endless cabinets and rows of stuffed bookshelves, then rested her eyes on a large portrait above the fireplace, and on a face she recognized.
That could be Ivan.
Tsar Nicholas II gazed at her with imperious indifference. He stood behind a chair upon which his wife, the tsarina, sat. Beside him were three young women. Billi didn't need to guess which was Anastasia. Ivan had inherited more than just her beauty. He even stood the same way she did, straight, relaxed, regal.
Elaine grinned. "I know what happened to Baba Yaga." She slapped her head. "Obvious, really. She's an elementalist. Whatever affects the Earth affects her. And something did affect her —the Earth—a hundred years ago." Elaine smacked her fist into her palm. "Right here, in Russia."
"What, Elaine?"
Elaine began searching through the scattered books, opening and slamming them as she tried to find what she was looking for. "I'll show you. I'll show you... "
Billi sighed impatiently and leaned up against the table. Arms folded, she caught a glimpse of movement. A shadow moved in the gap between the bottom of the doorframe and the floor. She heard a man take a deep breath, followed by the click of a catch. She grabbed Elaine and dived behind the sofa as the door exploded open and the darkness screamed with gunfire.
Chapter 27
BILLI THREW HER ARMS OVER HER HEAD AS SHARDS of glass from the long line of windows around her exploded like crystal shrapnel. The sofa pulsed as bullets thumped into the dense wood. The wind pulled savagely at the long curtains, and Billi felt the snow-carrying cold blast her. In a matter of seconds the world had gone to hell.
Her ears rang with the echoing gunfire that bounced back and forth off the heavy marble walls. The air carried the acrid, metallic flavor of gunpowder.
Petrified, Elaine hung on to Billi, her eyes shut tight. She shook so badly that Billi had to wrap her arms around her, even though she herself could do nothing but pray.
The echoes lasted longer than the gunfire. Snow blew in from the line of now-demolished windows, and the city beyond sparkled.
"Hello? Are you still alive?" a mocking voice boomed, deep with amusement. Koshchey.
"Of course!" shouted Billi, sounding a hell of a lot braver than she felt. "Were you shooting at us? I didn't realize."
Two Bogatyrs poked their guns over the sofa. One dragged Elaine out by the hair, and the other went for Billi. She slapped his hands away and stood up.
Billi casually brushed the splinters from her coat. She couldn't let Koshchey see how frightened she was. The Bogatyrs gathered around them. The Bogatyr released his hold on Elaine, and she stood beside Billi, staring at the devastation.
Koshchey strolled into the library. His collar was loose and his shirt stained with sweat, face flushed red by some recent exertion.
There were now ten Bogatyrs in the library. They all wore casual clothing, but carried guns. Two held Ivan between them. He struggled, but the men had his arms bent behind his back.
Where were Lance and Gwaine? Koshchey glared at the portrait of the royal family and held out his hand. One of his men put a pistol in it.
Koshchey shot Tsar Nicholas between the eyes. The hole in the canvas flickered with flame, then turned into wispy smoke.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he said.
He put another hole between Anastasia's eyes.
"And that," he said, handing the pistol back. With one sweep of his trunk-wide arms he hurled the books off the table. Elaine flinched as the priceless, one-of-a-kind tomes and scrolls scattered.
"You can't—" Elaine started as she scrabbled among the discarded books. One of the Bogatyrs knocked them out of her hands and pushed her back against Billi.
Koshchey glanced at the man. "Andrei, if the old woman speaks again, break her jaw."
"Is something wrong?" Billi asked. If Gwaine and Lance were anywhere close, they would have heard the gunfire. She needed to play for time. Give them a chance to get away.
"I offered you hospitality, my aid. My men's lives, Templar, and you betray my trust. Sneaking off behind my back. Aiding the enemy. Yuri saw you and Ivan talking with the Polenitsy tonight. Did you not think I would find out?" He looked at the cloth in his hand. "Is that gratitude?"
"All you've ever done has been for yourself." Ivan glared, trying to break free.
"Ah, Romanov." Koshchey waved at the men on either side of Ivan. "All this you owe to me. If your father had been left in charge, we'd be as poor as the Templars." He slapped his chest. "I have made the Bogatyrs strong. I have made them powerful, feared. And you dare to think I would hand it all over to a whelp like you? It is my destiny to rule the Bogatyrs. Your father had to die."
"You don't even deny it? That you are a traitor?"
Koshchey looked around at his men and laughed. They laughed too. "Deny it? I deny nothing. I led him to the Polenitsy and left him there. He was weak. The gray werewolf made short work of him, I hear. He died begging on his knees. I still celebrate your father's death."
Ivan roared and charged. Koshchey's right fist snapped forward, and the blow took Ivan off the ground. Billi caught him as he stumbled backward, amazed he wasn't unconscious, or dead.
"No, Ivan—"
He threw himself forward, but still reeling from Koshchey's blow, his punch was off target. Koshchey took it on his chest without a reaction. Then he grabbed Ivan's collar and slammed his knee into the youn
g man's belly.
Ivan slumped down. His chest heaved and his fingers scraped the floor as he searched fora grip that would help him get up again.
"It would have been better if the vampire had killed you, as planned," said Koshchey. "But Lady SanGreal had to save you."
Slowly, Ivan rose to his feet, his rage and defiance undiminished.
"Fight me, fight me like a man of honor," he snarled, staring hatefully at the huge Bogatyr.
"Honor is for old men and young fools." Koshchey pulled out a rag and shook it open. He pressed it against the back of his neck, drawing it over his bald head. Up close, Billi saw it bore a green pattern, one she recognized.
Paisley.
Koshchey spotted Billi's look of horror.
"Oh yes, Templar. The woman told me everything. Eventually." Then he straightened and pulled the pistol from his waistband. "I will find Vasilisa—you can take comfort in that. I will make sure Baba Yaga does not get her. And I will make sure Fimbulwinter never happens. That is what you all want, yes? She is much too valuable to be left to the Polenitsy and their insane goddess."
He drew back the slide of his gun, chambering a round. Then he pointed it at Ivan's head.
"I've dreamed of killing a Romanov myself," he said.
"Drop it, fat man."
Koshchey's jaw fell open. Gwaine stood right behind him, the barrel of his pistol pressed against the back of Koshchey's head.
The other Bogatyrs reacted in different ways. Some turned to point their guns at Gwaine, but Koshchey was so large he practically formed a human shield. Lance appeared from behind a shot-up column and motioned Billi and Elaine toward him and the door. He held a pistol in his hand and had a backpack slung over his shoulder. They'd come in the nick of time.
Gwaine turned Koshchey around so the big Russian covered him. "We're leaving now. Thanks for your hospitality."
Billi and Ivan gathered all the men's guns, took two each, then tossed the rest out the nearest window.
They backed slowly toward the elevator, Gwaine holding Koshchey in front of him.
They got in, and Lance pressed the bottom button for the garage.
"You won't get away with this," snarled Koshchey.
"Now that's original," replied Gwaine.
Billi used her sleeve to wipe the blood from Ivan's face, as gently as she could. She knew how much it would be hurting right now.
"You all right?"
"I'll live." He faced Koshchey. "Unlike this pig." He shoved his pistol under Koshchey's chin. Koshchey's face drained of all color.
"Alors, Tsarevich," said Lance. "He is our hostage, oui?"
Ivan pushed the pistol farther into the man's jaw. Billi leaned back, expecting scattered brains any second. Ivan saw her and hung his head in frustration. He nodded and lowered his weapon.
"What's the plan?" asked Billi.
"First we get out of here. After you." Gwaine pushed Koshchey forward as the doors opened. Men spilled out of the doorway from the stairs in the far corners of the garage, but they could do nothing but glower; no one dared approach while Koshchey was their hostage. A few had grabbed more weapons, but no one was going to risk a shot in the poor light.
Elaine and Billi bundled into the front seat of a big seven-seater four-by-four, the others got in the back. It took Elaine only seconds to hot-wire the vehicle.
"When did you learn that?" asked Billi.
"During my misspent youth."
"They had cars back then?"
Elaine flattened the accelerator and twisted the wheel without commenting. The large vehicle spun around to face the exit. Billi could see that many of the Bogatyrs were starting up their own cars. They weren't going to let their boss out of their sight.
The four-by-four rolled up the ramp and onto ulitsa Bolshaya Polyanka, the main road that headed away from the city.
Behind them three more vehicles rose out of the garage. At this time of the morning there were hardly any other cars on the road.
"Where to?" Billi asked.
"There's a private airfield to the south," said Ivan. "We can leave Moscow, but my plane is too small for all of us." He gazed coldly at their prisoner. "Where is Dimitri?"
"Where do you think, Tsarevich?"
Ivan sank into his seat, head bowed. Billi saw him close his eyes and bite his lips. Dimitri must have meant a lotto him. "He was loyal, Koshchey."
"To you. I had no need of such men."
"So, Ivan, what about this bloke?" asked Gwaine. They all looked at Koshchey. No one leaped to his defense.
With Billi and Elaine up front, the rear two rows faced each other. Gwaine and Ivan were opposite Koshchey, with Lance wedged up beside him.
"Too bad for you, fat man," said Gwaine. He looked at Lance. "What do you think?" Koshchey's eyes widened as he got it: they were going to execute him.
Billi couldn't help glancing at the reflection of the four men in the back. Despite the crowded car, she felt cold and put up her hood, casting her face into shadow.
"Oui, kill him," said Lance with little feeling. He could have been ordering a baguette.
"Billi?" asked Gwaine.
She turned around and looked at the big man. Koshchey was ashen, frozen stiff in his seat. He raised his hands in a futile gesture.
This was not how they did things, Billi knew that. Templars were warriors, not executioners. Killing a defenseless man went against the Templar Rules, their code.
But as Billi peered out from under her black hood, she knew even Arthur would make an exception in this case. "Yes, kill him."
"Wait," said Koshchey. His eyes darted between them, desperate. "I can help you."
Gwaine found a strip of cloth and began wrapping it around the barrel to use as a crude silencer. "We don't need your help." He pointed the pistol at Koshchey's face.
"No, no, you don't understand." Koshchey's voice rose an octave, almost screeching in fear.
Lance slapped him. "Hush now," he said. "At least die like a man."
The big bad Bogatyr. He could torture and murder. Melt people in acid. He'd killed so many, but couldn't face death himself. There he sat, white with terror, sweat pouring off his face, legs trembling. Billi reached back and put her hand on Ivan's shoulder. He hadn't moved throughout the discussion. He put his fingers through hers. Gwaine creaked in his seat, slightly shifting to half face the young man.
"Tsarevich?" Ivan should have the right to issue the command.
"No!" Koshchey screamed. "I know where Vasilisa is!"
Gwaine tutted. "Sorry, mate, but I don't believe you."
"Lady SanGreal, let me help you save your friend."
"Wait," said Billi. Gwaine lowered the pistol.
"How do you know where she is?"
Koshchey looked down. "The Polenitsy woman. She told me."
"The woman you tortured to death. Right?"
Koshchey didn't respond.
Blow his brains out. That's what he deserves. But Billi realized that if he knew where Vasilisa was, well, the execution would have to wait.
Billi pulled down her hood and drew her hair behind her ear. "Where is she?" He shook his head. "Your word, as a Templar, that you will not kill me if I tell you."
Gwaine looked at Billi; this was her play.
"I swear, neither I, nor any Templar here, will kill you," she said. "Now, where is Vasilisa?"
Koshchey smiled. "She is to the south. In the old forest."
"The Belovezhskaya Pushcha," said Ivan. "It is the oldest remaining forest in Europe. It stretches from Poland, through Belarus, into Ukraine."
Billi cursed. "Better call Dad and tell him he's at the totally wrong end of the country."
"I am telling the truth, I swear it," said Koshchey, his old arrogance slowly returning.
He was, she could tell. They could still find Vasilisa. Billi's heart surged, but she couldn't let it show. After days of stumbling in the dark, hope glimmered inside her. They had their chance. Koshchey smirked, knowing she bel
ieved him and thinking he had saved himself. A Templars' word was their bond, and Billi would not break hers.
Billi looked at Ivan and nodded slowly. "He's all yours."
"W-w-wait!" Koshchev stuttered, his face ghost-white. "You gave your word."
"And I'm keeping it," Billi answered in a flat, pitiless tone. She drew the collar of her red coat tighter. "Ivan's not a Templar."
Ivan pulled his own pistol from his waistband.
"Please, Tsarevich." Koshchey clasped his hands together. "Where is the honor in this? To murder a defenseless man?"
Ivan paused. The pistol was in his grip and his finger rested in the trigger, but he looked up at the big man. "Honor? I thought you said honor was for fools."
"I am the fool, Tsarevich." Koshchey leaned forward, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed his hands together. "You are Tsarevich Ivan Alexeivich Romanov. I am nothing. Think what you father would have done. He would not have permitted this... execution."
"I... " Ivan hesitated just for a moment.
Koshchey bellowed incoherently and sprang forward, barreling into Ivan. Lance grabbed at the huge man, but Koshchey swung the Frenchman against Gwaine, who crashed into the back of Elaine. The car swerved as she momentarily lost control, and Koshchey kicked the side door open. Lance grabbed him as he jumped, and both of them tumbled onto the road.
Elaine slammed on the brakes and Gwaine leaped out, Billi a second behind him.
The three cars behind accelerated.
Koshchey and Lance tumbled down the high verge, taking a small avalanche of snow with them. Gwaine glanced back at the cars, then grabbed Billi. "Go back! Now!" He pushed her toward the van, then leaped off the road after Lance and Koshchey. Bogatyrs rushed out of their vehicles and made their way down to the two struggling men. One of the cars swung around and came toward Billi, blinding her with its headlights.
Gunfire deafened her left ear as Ivan shot at the approaching car. It swerved savagely and skidded to a halt. Ivan took a few steps forward, his black coat swirling around him, as he coolly fired the entire magazine into the car's engine and lights, oblivious to the gunfire coming at him. The pistol empty, he tossed it away and took Billi's hand.