“I did. He called me child of Winter, and he told me that earth would only fall to fire and ice. I can’t help but think he meant us.”
The prince was quiet, my words clearly turning over in his mind. “I’ve never known the bannik to speak to anyone in all my years spent at the palace, much less give a prophecy.” He looked at me closely. “And your babushka never spoke of Winter as a person?”
I shook my head. “No. I never knew I had a mother and father until recently. Babushka might have known the truth, but she never conveyed it to me. All my life, I’ve wondered who my real parents were, who had been cruel enough to leave a defenseless baby alone in the woods. If there’s a chance I may learn the truth, then I must take it. Wouldn’t you?”
He looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening, and I held my breath. “My first instinct is to refuse. It’s too dangerous, and we don’t have much time to spare.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued, “However, I offered before to help you find your father, and this could lead you to the truth about both your parents. Not only that, you have willingly joined me in my own quest to find out more about my power. It’s only fair that I should aid you in yours.”
I let out my breath in relief. “Thank you, Gosudar.”
“Sasha,” he corrected with a smile. “But we will have to leave tonight—after dinner.” Again he glanced away, this time to the tent entrance. “And we will have to do so without Ivan noticing. You may ask Kharan to accompany us if you wish—she can be discreet and even disappear if needed—but I cannot risk anyone else. I doubt Baba Yaga would allow an entire army to march into her domain anyway.”
“I understand, and I am loath to risk anyone else, too. I appreciate your help more than you know.”
“I’m glad to give it,” he said.
I nodded toward the tent entrance. “Shall I help Kharan prepare dinner now?”
“If you’d like. Perhaps she will know more about Winter and even Baba Yaga. She has traveled farther, heard more stories, and seen more than I ever have.”
He held open the tent flap graciously for me, and I stepped through. “Thank you,” I murmured, and he caught hold of my wrist.
“You can always change your mind. I’d rather not put you at risk like this.”
My heart beat a little faster as I felt the heat of his hand on the sensitive skin of my wrist. I tried to tell myself that he only didn’t want to risk losing my power, but the excuse fell a little flat even in my own head. “I know, but I feel I must.”
He nodded and released my wrist. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.”
I hurried off to find Kharan and help her prepare the food.
Perhaps she would know more about what to expect from Baba Yaga.
Chapter Seventeen
I FOUND KHARAN CAREFULLY TRANSFERRING ROUND river stones the size of her fist from an open fire to an iron pot. Nearby was an enormous earthenware platter filled with chunks of meat and vegetables. She looked up when I approached.
“I thought you could use some help,” I said. “I hope the prince didn’t force you into cooking for all of us.”
She grinned. “No, but I wouldn’t mind having you here to help. I haven’t had the chance to make one of my clan’s recipes in far too long. Not that I’m especially good at cooking.”
“It looks delicious already, though—what’s it called?”
“Horhog,” she said. “The meat used is typically sheep, but I had to make do with the deer the men killed earlier.” She pointed to the hot stones. “We use these to roast the meat like in an oven. It’s the easiest, best meal when you’re camping.”
“That’s ingenious. So how can I help?”
“The meat needs seasoning.”
I nodded and found the requisite salt and pepper, liberally seasoning everything like she asked. When I was finished, she dumped the whole thing into the pot with the hot rocks and closed the lid.
“There is something I discovered today, when I went out on my own on Zonsara.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you mean the rusalka?”
I smiled. “Is there nothing you don’t know about? How have you heard about the rusalka already?”
She sat down on the ground near the fire and invited me to sit next to her. “I assure you, it took no interrogation skills. The prince was incensed when you both returned—he was ranting about the rusalka and the pond the entire time you were drying off and changing.”
So Sasha had been holding in his anger with me. I glanced around us to be sure no one was close enough to overhear. “The rusalka said something to me, and I’m hoping it’s something you’ll know about.”
She must have recognized my serious tone, for she leaned closer, her brows drawn. “I will help you if I can. What did she say?”
“She said I was the daughter of Winter and that Baba Yaga could explain more about where I came from. She spoke like Winter was a person—my mother. And this isn’t the first time I’ve heard someone use Winter in connection to me.” I told her all about the bannik and how he’d called me child of Winter. And I told her of Babushka’s journal, how frustrating it was that it lacked a name for my mother.
Kharan was quiet for a moment as though deep in thought. “There are legends in the north of a queen with complete control over ice, but I never learned more than that.”
That was more than I had known, at least. “And what of Baba Yaga? The prince has agreed to come with me to find her, and I would like your help, too, if you are willing. Do you know anything about her?”
Kharan grinned. “It’s amusing to me that you Rus’ believe Baba Yaga to be a single person.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. So, Winter is a person, and Baba Yaga isn’t one but many?”
“Baba Yaga is the name for a bone witch, and there are many, but they are always very powerful.” I didn’t think I wanted to know why they were called bone witches, but then Kharan told me anyway. “My grandfather always said they used bones to divine, and whether they were animal or human was hard to say.”
I shuddered. “The prince wanted me to ask you to come, but I can’t do that. It’s too dangerous.”
She gave me a look. “I’m coming. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t try to help you find out more about your own mother?” Though I was happy she thought enough of me to call herself my friend, I still was reluctant for her to endanger herself. “You won’t be able to stop me,” she added with a little nudge of her shoulder to mine.
Beaten, I let out a breath. “That’s true, and I can’t say I’d mind the company. But when we reach the bone witch’s hut, it would be best for you to stay hidden.”
“I can agree to that. Though her eyes may be able to detect even my shadows.”
Cold fingers touched my spine, and I hoped seeking out such a creature would be worth it. More than finally discovering the truth about my parentage and even my abandonment, I wanted to find out more about my power. I wanted—no, needed—to be able to control it. And the possibility that I might finally be able to assert my will over my ability was enough incentive to seek out a witch.
Even a bone witch.
Though the horhog had been delicious, I hadn’t been able to stomach more than a few bites. My mind had been racing too far ahead, picturing the way we would have to travel to reach Baba Yaga. How far would we have to go? And even if we made it there, would the bone witch be forthcoming about my mother?
Now, as I stood in my tent after having changed into my old rubhaka, skirt, and boots, I waited for the sound of voices to fade, to signal that everyone had finally gone to bed. I glanced back longingly at my own plush bed; so many days on the road had brought a weariness to my body that made me glad for a bed at the end of every day. Of course, it was this same weariness that would cause the others to seek out their own tents, too.
It was quiet and still while I waited for Kharan and the prince.
And it was the smallest of noises from outside that alerted me
to a presence. I pulled back the flap of my tent.
“Are you ready?” a voice whispered behind me, and I froze nearly solid.
“Kharan,” I whispered back, and she materialized in the light of the candles.
“You’d be terrible at espionage,” she said. “I thought for sure you’d expect me once you opened your tent.”
“I’m afraid I’m not omniscient.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Well, you have to be if you want to play this sort of game.”
“Then what will happen next?”
She tilted her head as though considering for a moment. “We’ll retrieve our horses, and the prince will meet us on the path.”
I grinned. “I’m not sure whether that’s omniscience, or that you and the prince formed a plan in advance.”
“Don’t question my powers of foretelling,” she said. “Let’s go.”
She led the way, and the only sounds in the quiet camp were the winds through the trees and the soft stamping of horse hooves. It was still and silent as we reached the dozing horses, but as soon as we got closer, many pricked their ears forward, hoping for more treats. Daichin let out a soft whicker when he saw Kharan, and Zonsara bobbed her head as though hoping I’d come just to scratch her forehead.
“They won’t be so happy to see us once they realize we want them to go out again into the cold night,” I said, obliging Zonsara with a forehead scratch.
“Probably not,” Kharan said, and then untied the rope that kept Daichin secured next to the other horses. “But we can give them plenty of treats when we return.”
As silently as a shadow, she pulled herself astride, and it was then that I realized we had no saddles. No bridles, even, other than makeshift ones from the halters and ropes.
Kharan watched me as I stood by Zonsara’s side, desperately trying to decide how I’d pull myself up.
“Tonight will be a more advanced riding lesson,” Kharan said.
I smiled grimly as I grasped hold of Zonsara’s withers. If I couldn’t even mount my horse, what good was I against a bone witch?
With an awkward little jump, I managed to flop my belly onto her back. The mare snorted her displeasure at me and swished her tail, but she held still, even as I swung my leg over her heavily.
Kharan was already riding away by the time I got my legs untangled from my skirt, and I squeezed my legs around Zonsara a little too firmly. She shot forward, nearly unseating me in the process.
Kharan glanced back at me, and I smiled sheepishly.
The beating of wings alerted me to the return of Elation, who followed us by making lazy circles in the sky. Her presence comforted me, made me feel stronger. Like maybe I’d be able to face Baba Yaga and live to tell about it.
We stayed silent as we rode along, the horses not making much noise on the freshly thawed earth. I’d almost forgotten what Kharan had said about the prince until a horse neighed behind us, nearly unseating me again.
“Hello, Gosudar,” Kharan said. “I take it you made it past your own guards?”
He grinned. “As you see.” He turned his gaze on me. “You can still change your mind, Katya.”
“No, it must be now.”
“I had to try one last time,” he said with a nod. “Then we will accompany you and help you in any way we can.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Do not thank me,” he said with a shake of his head. “To let you face this level of danger alone would be the worst sort of idiocy.”
He gave his horse the signal to move forward, and we fell into a staggered line, with Kharan in the lead, Zonsara and I following, and the prince bringing up the rear.
“Baba Yaga isn’t always evil in the stories,” I said hopefully. “Sometimes she offers wisdom.”
The prince made a scoffing sound. “Yes, but you won’t know which story this is until you’re in the midst of it.”
The truth of that made me fall silent, and again I prayed I wasn’t leading everyone into unnecessary danger.
Soon I would know the truth.
Or be dead—depending on Baba Yaga’s mood.
Despite the moon lighting our way, it took us most of the night to reach the center of the woods. The trees grew thicker and thicker, until their branches and needles all but blotted out what little light came from the night sky. We had passed the rusalka’s pond long ago, weaving deeper into the forest. Many times we had hesitated on which path to take, but it was Elation who seemed to lead us where we wanted to go. Her circular flight patterns would indicate the way—east or west—and eventually we came to a place where the trees were so thick the horses could barely move.
And then just as I feared we wouldn’t be able to continue, we spotted flickering lights. I tried to dismount, but the prince stopped me. “Let Kharankhui go and see.”
When I turned to look at Kharan, she had already melded into the shadows, leaving Daichin nearby. It seemed to take far too long before she’d returned again, and by then, my skin was radiating cold.
“The hut is unoccupied,” she said quietly, appearing beside Daichin but somehow not spooking him. “The lights we saw are flames flickering within lanterns.”
“If there are lanterns, then surely someone will return soon,” I said. I didn’t want to have traveled so far only to not find Baba Yaga at all.
“I think it’s safe to approach,” Kharan said, and Sasha nodded.
I gave Zonsara a little squeeze with my calves, but Sasha came up beside me on his own horse and reached for my arm. “Let me go first. Please,” he added when I thought about refusing.
When he’d passed through the thick trees, I followed and brought Zonsara up short. Before us was a little clearing, in the center of which was a hut constructed with what I thought at first was wood. As I moved closer, I realized it wasn’t wood at all, but petrified bone. I turned to look at Sasha, and he was grimly inspecting one of the lanterns whose flames had drawn our attention. They, too, were made of bone. Skulls—though these were still white. The flames danced within, completely independent of any wax or oil to burn.
“Interesting design,” Kharan said, as though this wasn’t the most terrifying structure we’d ever seen.
“She makes light of things when she’s afraid,” Sasha said to me, and Kharan glared.
“With good reason,” I murmured, placing my hand on Zonsara’s neck. The horses were shifting restlessly, and I thought it was only their good training that kept them from bolting.
Just then, a piercing neigh broke the silence, and all three of our horses froze, their ears pricked and tails lifted at the sound. A rider entered the clearing on a blood-red charger, and the moment the horse’s hooves touched the outer ring of the grass that surrounded the hut, the sun rose behind it. Beyond, the trees were still veiled in darkness. The night sky remained unchanged in that part of the forest, and it was as if the clearing we found ourselves in was something apart from the main world. I looked at the transformation in awe: this is what the rusalka had meant by the sun and moon changing places in the sky.
The charger and its rider came closer, and as they did, our horses backed away. The rider wasn’t a man at all—at least, he had the form of a man, but he was made of fire. His whole body crackled, and his eyes were dark as the night sky just beyond.
He raised a sword—also made of fire—and his charger lowered its head.
There was a moment where I thought, He means to attack us, and I will fall from this horse.
His horse leaped forward, and at the same time, Sasha grabbed me and pulled me off Zonsara. My lovely mare turned and bolted, but with me pressed close to Sasha’s chest, he managed to keep his own horse under control. Sasha’s mount pivoted out of the way just before the man of fire could run us through with his sword.
“He is made of fire,” Sasha said into my ear, and now both he and Kharan were desperately trying to evade the blood-red charger and his rider.
“Fire,” I repeated dumbly, my body a pillar of ice.
“You can do this,” Sasha said, and he maneuvered his horse around again, staying just out of reach of the flaming sword.
My heart was in my throat. “I could kill us all.”
“You won’t.” His voice was pure confidence.
The charger swung around again, and above us, Elation cried out a warning. There was no time. If I didn’t stop him, Sasha and Kharan would be killed.
I reached deep within myself, like sinking into an icy cold pond, and grasped the frozen power. I forced all doubts aside. With the picture of the flaming rider in my mind, I unleashed the ice.
A torrent of icy air so cold it froze the ground it passed over rushed toward the rider. It blasted him off his horse, freezing him instantly. The horse reared, letting out a piercing scream. Where the ice had touched its side, there was a terrible streak of frozen hair and flesh.
The rider himself was trapped in ice, though he hadn’t become so frozen as others I’d done this to. He hadn’t burst into millions of ice crystals, perhaps because his own body was made of fire. Still the cold continued to pour from me, and if it hadn’t been for Sasha’s warmth radiating so powerfully from him, I feared it would freeze him, too.
“Enough of this, Daughter of Winter,” a voice boomed across the clearing. Instantly, the flow of my ice dissipated, as though an unseen power had reached out and stopped it.
A woman stood in the doorway of the hut, seemingly shriveled and bent and old—even ancient—but then she strode over to the frozen rider like a soldier of twenty. She touched him with a hand as gnarled as a twisted tree root, and the ice melted away. His flames returned, and she touched his charger’s side. It healed instantly, and the horse calmed.
Then she turned to us. Her small gray eyes were so deep in the folds of her face it was hard to see them, but I could still feel the intensity of her gaze. It seemed to paralyze me as easily as my ice had frozen the rider. She’d prevented the flow of my cold fire and melted my ice so easily! It was obvious her powers were far greater than mine.
“You nearly destroyed my servant,” she said.
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