“It’s fine. There are no secrets between any of us anyway,” Anya said as she squeezed his hand. “I don’t even know if it was rape. I can’t remember much.”
“The most important thing is you are back,” Aleksandra smiled softly at her before smoothly changing the subject. “Do you think that Kullervo killed himself in the real world or Skazki?”
“I’m assuming it was the Karelian Otherworld,” Ruthann said as he paced, “though I’ve never ventured into it in my travels. How about you, Aramis?”
“Not for over a hundred years. It isn’t very tourist friendly, I’ve been told.”
“Well, sounds like you guys have it under control,” Harley laughed nervously. “As for me, I’m going home.”
“We should all go to New Orleans first,” Isabelle suggested. “Not that I don’t appreciate your hospitality, Lord Ruthann, but living here has put us in a bubble. New Orleans would be a relatively safe place to find out what has been happening in the real world. I doubt Yanka would’ve been idle.”
“So we are all going to jump on Finnish Airways and go from there?” Hamish asked. “Because you can bet your sweet asses the enemy will be all over those channels.”
“I’ve been studying a lot of Álfr gates magic,” Aleksandra suggested. “I might be able to help use gates to get us there.”
“The toll on you would be monstrous,” said Katya. “I don’t like it.”
“I’m not suggesting we gates jump to Karelian Otherworld in one go, Katya. but I’m sure I could manage it over a few days.”
“Change of subject right now,” Katya demanded.
“Even if you do find the mystical magical sword of Ukko, the only person that can wield it is a servant of heaven, and I don’t see anyone here that fits into that particular category,” Fox said with perfect queue.
“Aleksandra,” Ruthann said and the dark haired gypsy squirmed in her seat, “you have to tell them.” The tense silence was broken by Katya’s loud laughter.
“I would know if my sister was a servant of heaven. I know she’s pretty innocent but not exactly saint material!”
“I wasn’t referring to your sister.” Katya opened her mouth again when the door opened and Mychal stepped into the room. Eleven faces turned to stare at him.
“What?” Mychal asked, instantly defensive. He sat down next to Aleksandra.
“You’ve gotta be shittin me,” Hamish exclaimed. “He is a servant of heaven?”
“Have I missed something?” Mychal said through gritted teeth. Anya’s heart jumped to her chest as the tone turned to anger.
“The obscure writings of an ancestor of Anya’s,” Søren said. “At least now I know why you can keep up with me in training.”
“They know, Mychal,” Aleksandra took his hand but Mychal brushed her away, leaving the room quickly.
“Aleki?” Katya was pale, “You knew?”
“Yes, but he’s private and that’s understandable.”
“So much for no secrets among the group,” Isabelle muttered.
“Well, would you have told anyone?” Aleksandra shouted. “He doesn’t even know what he is!”
“He’s a freaking angel!” Fox exclaimed.
“No, he isn’t,” Ruthann interrupted as they all started arguing at once. “He isn’t an angel, he isn’t nephilim, he is different. Like you all are different. Something you need to remember and be respectful of in Mychal’s case.” Aleksandra got to her feet and hurried from the room, leaving Anya worrying whether someone should go after her.
“Mychal! Mychal stop!” Aleksandra was calling to him from the end of the hall. She ran to him and stepped in his way, “Stop and listen.”
“I can’t believe you told them,” he said as he removed her hand from where she had gripped his shirt.
“I didn’t tell them! Ruthann did. Ilya’s writings mentioned a servant of heaven and Ruthann brought it up, not me. You walked in to the conversation too late…”
“It doesn’t matter. Let me go. I’m too angry to talk to you right now.”
Mychal wanted to rant and rave, but being close to her while he did it would only hurt her more. He needed darkness and a quiet place to think to control the beast that wanted to tear the place apart.
Mychal charged into the library and hurried down the stones steps to the lower levels. The older manuscripts were kept under ground and thanks to Ásgeirr’s influence, Mychal had been given access. Almost no one was ever down there and Mychal made certain he was alone before sinking to the ground between the heavy wooden bookshelves. Ásgeirr found him in the same position moments later.
“Why is it that I always find you skulking among the abandoned bookshelves?” he asked as he closed the book he had been holding. “What has happened?”
“They know what I am.”
“Impossible, even you do not know who you are.”
“It was in a prophecy about Yanka. They know I am part angel.” Ásgeirr knelt down beside him and placed a steady hand on his shoulder.
“Mychal, all of them are strange creatures, even the humans. I don’t believe your nature is anything to be ashamed of. It would be very hypercritical of them to ostracise you. Perhaps you’ll find that it will help answer a lot of questions they have about you.” Mychal looked up into Ásgeirr’s steady eyes and saw the truth in them.
“I may have over reacted.”
“I’m positive you did. I suppose you stormed out as well. I feel like I’ve completely failed at all those lessons on self-control I have been giving you.”
“You are a good teacher. I can be a weak student.”
“You will not always be so,” Ásgeirr said as his expression glazed over. “This prophecy concerning the dark witch is merely a test for you, Mychal. A mere glimpse of the adversity you will face in the future. How you conduct yourself now will be intrinsic to your purpose.”
“Another prophecy?”
“Merely a prediction. Now, pull yourself together and stop running away as soon as people expect something of you.” Ásgeirr held out his hand and helped Mychal stand to his feet.
“Since when did you become my big brother?”
“Since you began to act like my little sister. Now go and apologise to Aleksandra.”
“How did…”
“Come now, Mychal, she is closest to you. Naturally, she’s going to be the one to bear the brunt of your tantrums.”
“She wants to meet you.”
“And so she will, perhaps. For now, she needs you so stop acting like a coward and make it right.” Mychal nodded his head seriously before asking, “Training tonight?”
“You can count on it.”
“Søren suspects I’m getting lessons.”
“He can suspect all he likes. He’s probably relieved to know he isn’t getting defeated by a human. Now get going, there are a few more things I’d like to check here before our session. I might have something that interests you.”
Aleksandra stood under a stone pergola and felt her power move under her skin. Ruthann had taken her to this spot every day of the last week to help her develop her talent for gates. He also possessed the ability to choose gates and had instantly recognised it in her. She’d only ever used her shaky gift when the tribe was crossing between the worlds in their nomadic wanderings. Baba Zosia hadn’t the talent, but she had claimed that Aleksandra’s grandmother had the gifting.
What had surprised her most of all about Ruthann’s lessons was that he could summon a gate or crossing to him. He didn’t have to wait for the time between times, or be standing in a sacred place protected by a Guardian like Anya. He could cross back and forth as he chose. This was what Aleksandra so desperately wanted to learn. And she was learning. Only Ruthann knew how well she was taking to it.
Everyone else was too caught up in the many distractions that the Álfr offered or had been worrying after Anya, waiting for a sign from her that it was time to move on. As always, Aleksandra kept quiet about her own achievements, ev
en from Mychal. He was spending a lot of time with the mysterious Ásgeirr, and Aleksandra didn’t question it. She knew it was exceptionally hard for him to make friends so she didn’t push him for an introduction.
Aleksandra was hurt and angry that Mychal had instantly assumed she had told his secret after all this time. It was the lack of trust in her that hurt the most. Maybe you should have stayed in Skazki, joined another tribe, a small voice said in the back of her mind, You wouldn’t be caught up in wars or danger or demons for a start. In her heart of hearts, she knew that wasn’t exactly true. The demons would have found her and she would’ve never stopped having visions of Mychal. Some days she really wished she could go home, the way home used to be.
Sweat broke out on her brow as Aleksandra concentrated on the flow of magic and energy around her. She could feel the Otherworld, pulsing like a second heart beat behind the thin translucent layer of reality. Something popped in her ears, the wind around her picking up. Aleksandra opened her eyes and saw the garden in front of her blur, and then the vision through it began to change and heave until it broke open. A heavy gust of snow burst through it, pushing her backwards. Through the opening, Aleksandra saw icy black forests and looming mountains, snow and cloud covering their jagged edges.
“Aleksandra!” Mychal’s voice, loud and panicked, cut through her concentration and she stumbled. The icy vista closed with a snap, leaving her dizzy, her ears hurting. Ice was melting on her hand where she had reached out to touch the winter landscape.
He was striding toward her, the too tall figure in black. Aleksandra shook the buzz of magic from her ears and tried to focus on him. He grabbed her by the shoulders tightly and she recoiled, suddenly afraid he would shake her. Instead, Mychal lifted her up to him, squeezing her to him. “Don’t leave,” he begged, “I’m sorry, don’t leave.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere,” Aleksandra said as he crushed her.
“But…the gate…”
“I was practicing. I told you I’ve been learning gates magic. Put me down.”
“No, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I know you wouldn’t share anything we have together. I was…caught off guard.”
“I thought you didn’t trust me.” Mychal placed her slowly back on her feet and took her cold face in his hands.
“You are the only person I trust. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I retaliated. I will do better, I promise. I will learn to control my anger.”
“What has this Álfr been teaching you?” Aleksandra raised an eyebrow at him. A twinkle appeared in his dark eyes.
“Not so much teaching as pointing out my faults. I can’t lay a finger on him, let alone hit him. It turns out I have a problem with anger.” Aleksandra laughed loudly and hugged him tightly around his waist.
“My strange dear Mychal.” He bent down and kissed her for a long time.
“I don’t know what Fate has in store for me, but I do know that I need you beside me,” he whispered against her lips.
“There’s no place I’d rather be, you know that. You know what we are like when we are apart. Now, let me show you what Ruthann has been teaching me.”
***
“You’ve been quite the crazy shut in, haven’t you?”
Anya started, almost dropping the teacup she held. She thought she was alone. Everyone else had slowly left to go and pack their belongings. It had been decided that they would leave in two days’ time.
“Søren, I didn’t realise you were still hiding in here.” He was sitting on one of the window seats, arms folded in an attempt to look casual. Søren was like Mychal in that he made the effort to look relaxed, though he never, ever was.
“I wasn’t hiding at all,” he said. “I was waiting for everyone else to leave. I have to hand it to Aramis getting into your room. I tried a few times and your magic kept me firmly out.”
“What did you want?”
“Why so suspicious? I thought we’d moved past all of that to become almost friends.”
“That was until you made me so angry that I almost killed you. It was a real dampener on the whole thing.”
“That and you running off to have midnight adventures with an Elemental.”
“Why do you care?” Anya sighed. The night in the forest was the very last thing she wanted to talk about.
“I feel responsible. Ruthann told me to protect you, watch over you and I failed in that,” Søren rose slowly to his feet and walked over to her.
“Ruthann wanted you to spy on me?”
“Not spy, watch.”
“It is the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t. You’ve a knack for interfering and putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. The Álfr have many secrets and we don’t like to share. It was a precaution but not the point I’m trying to make. I apologise for not being there to stop you that night. The Groenn Skaer is not even remotely human, or Álfr, he has different interests, wants, needs and desires and that he should rape you…”
“He didn’t rape me,” Anya said shocking Søren into silence.
“But you said…”
“I never said he raped me. I said I didn’t remember having sex. That’s the difference. Yvan and Aramis made the assumption. I honestly cannot remember most of that night, but I have feelings about it. Heat, power, forest, the smell of earth, the taste of flesh.”
Anya placed the cup down on the small kitchen sink. She pushed the palms of her hands into her tired eyes. “But I remember no rape. I remember the strongest, most overwhelming desire I’ve ever known, so whatever did or didn’t happen, was consensual. And I will not be judged for that. The forest kept Aramis and Yvan out. It would’ve done the same to you. Don’t blame yourself.”
“Whatever happened, I can see it changed you,” Søren said after a long moment. When she didn’t reply, he touched her lightly on her shoulder. “Why did you tell me this and not Yvan or Aramis?”
“You saw the way they looked at me, the way he looked at me,” she whispered, the sharp pain back in her chest.
“Yvan was hurt, Anya, nothing more. If you are afraid that he will look at you differently, don’t be concerned. He thinks the sun rises and sets with you. He knows you aren’t perfect and he’s not the one judging you right now. You are judging you.”
“I let the spirit of the forest take over my body, Søren. I let it. I gave in because I didn’t want to have to feel something for five minutes…not to be me. Then when I realised what I had done, I couldn’t get back out.” Her laugh was sad and bitter, “And they look to me to save the world from Yanka? I can’t even save myself.”
“It was a mistake, yes, but learn from it, Anyanka, don’t dwell on it.” She looked him in the eye for the first time that evening. He never called her by her real name.
“You think I can really do it?”
“Whether you can or not is irrelevant, but you need to try. It’s not like you will be facing this alone, even if it sometimes feels that way.”
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to join my motley gang of freaks?” Anya didn’t know why she even asked. She only knew that she would miss his uneasy company.
“You know that I can’t,” Søren replied softly, resting his hand lightly on her elbow. “I am the Enforcer, Dauđi Dómr, and I can’t walk away from that. Yanka hates us all but she wants revenge on the Álfr. If she rallies an army, I need to be here protecting my own.”
“I know, but I wanted you to know that the offer was there.”
“Could it be? Did I grow on you after all? Was cancer not available?”
“Don’t push it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I should let you get some sleep. You have some very busy days ahead of you.” Søren gave her a short formal bow before walking to the door. He hesitated, “Thank you for asking me to go with you. Know that if I could go with you, I would.”
“Søren, can I ask one more favour of you?”
“Yes, Elenya.” She hurried to her room a
nd came back with the bag that held Baba Yaga’s drum and Yanka’s runes.
“Will you put this somewhere so deep and dark that they’ll never be found? They were never mine to begin with and will only be a way for them to find me.”
Søren took them from her, “You are learning.” He bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Be safe, Elenya. I would hate to have to bury you.”
Chapter Eleven - The Problem of the Seeds and The Big Easy Bash Up
Anya woke with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. The previous two days had been of chaotic activity for everyone to gather their meagre belongings together. A part of Anya wanted to go and say good-bye to the Groenn Skaer, but the thought of stepping back into the forest made her balk. Then there was the problem of the seeds.
Anya hadn’t told Yvan or Aramis about the night she had taken Trajan’s things from the bathtub. She’d been shocked when she looked at the nest she’d lain in for days. Even with the spirit of the forest inside of her, she surrounded herself with Trajan’s things as a last attempt to draw herself back out. However, she couldn’t fight it, so she had wept. Anya had been lifting out Trajan’s jacket when she spotted the three red seeds. They stood out like blood on the white porcelain, and for a moment that’s exactly what she thought they were. Anya had picked them up and tucked them into a small velvet jewellery bag. Whatever they were, they would have to wait.
Anya pulled her hair back into a ponytail before dressing in a pair of jeans and a blue button up shirt that had belonged to Trajan. She rolled the sleeves to her elbows, leaving it comfortable and untucked. No one had commented on her wearing his shirts, not even Cerise who had a tendency to re-dress people whether they wanted it or not. Anya didn’t care what they thought. She liked his well-cut shirts and the feeling that he was close to her.
Very carefully, she applied some make up. It was a false attempt to prove to everyone that she was doing better or at least that she was trying. Only Yvan didn’t believe her. He always saw through her. Aramis knew that she was worse than what she was showing but he was too polite to push her. Steeling herself against the inevitable, Anya picked up her suitcase and headed for the door.
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