But it is not Sargent that should worry me. He is willing and able to continue to the middle of the river. It is my own fear that rises suddenly within, starting at my feet, completely submerged in the river, and continuing up my legs and into my chest until my heart beats so madly I can no longer hear even the Hounds. My breath comes fast and shallow, but I do not feel the urge to flee. Instead, I pull hard on the reins, forcing Sargent to a stop so hard and fast that he nearly rears out of the water as Sonia whips past us into the river.
But I am rooted to Sargent, and Sargent, at my behest, is rooted to the riverbed. I am terrified into a kind of apathetic stillness, and in this moment, I would rather die at the hands of the Hounds than brave the river.
“It’s time to go.”
I turn toward the sound of the voice. When I do, Edmund is back at my side. I both wish he had continued to the other side of the river and love him for staying.
I have time to meet his gaze for only a second before a sound on the riverbank gets my attention. It is not the Hounds, but something else. Someone else, just beyond them. A caped figure astride a black horse positioned behind the Hounds, as if they are no more than hunting dogs.
This alone would be mystifying enough. But when the figure pushes back the hood of his cape, I am left with only more questions.
13
I try to register too many things at once: the Hounds entering the water though they are clearly hesitant, Edmund standing to my side and refusing to continue with the others, and Dimitri Markov calmly mounted atop his horse behind the Hounds at the riverbank.
None of it does anything to spur me forward.
“It is time to go, Lia.” Edmund’s voice is soft but firm, and even through my fear I register that he has used my given name for the first time in all the years I have known him. “They feel your fear. They’re coming for you. There are too many for the rifle, and you’re not close enough to the other side to hold them at bay.”
His words make sense in some distant corner of my mind, but I still do not move. The Hounds splash carefully into the water, wetting first their paws and then continuing, albeit slowly, until they are submerged up to their bellies and standing only a few feet away from Edmund and me.
And still, I cannot move, cannot will myself to prompt Sargent forward though his muscles tense with the urge to flee. I know he feels the danger in the air every bit as much as I.
It is only as Dimitri makes a move toward the river, toward me, that I shake loose from my stupor, though still not enough to cause me to move. I am not the only one who pauses to watch his progress. The Hounds turn as well, their impressive snowy heads swiveling to face this new player in our drama. Dimitri stares them down, and for a moment I am sure there is some manner of unspoken communication between them.
The Hounds tense as Dimitri’s sleek horse splashes through the shallowest water toward us. Their heads swing from side to side, alternately watching me and keeping track of Dimitri’s progress without moving from their position. It is as if they know him, as if they are deferring to him out of some bizarre brand of respect. I can see the need in their eyes when they look at me, the desire to close the gap between us and take me while they can.
But theirs is a thirst that goes unquenched. They simply watch as Dimitri brings his horse alongside mine. The current becomes stronger as the sky darkens toward night, and I feel Sargent trying to keep a foothold on the rocky riverbed as Dimitri reaches out to take the reins from my freezing hands. He looks into my eyes, and I feel that we have known each other forever.
“It’s all right. Just trust me, and I’ll get you across.” There is tenderness in his voice, as if something unspeakably intimate has passed between us since our meeting at the Society, though we have not seen each other once from that moment to this.
“I’m… I’m afraid.” The words are out of my mouth before I have time to check them, and I hope that they are softer than I imagine. That perhaps Dimitri hasn’t heard my cowardice over the roar of the river.
He nods. “I know.” His eyes burn into mine. In them is a promise. “But I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I swallow hard, and somehow, I know that he will die before he sees me come to harm, though I cannot say why that should be when we don’t know each other at all. Still, I nod without speaking and grab hold of the saddle.
Dimitri places one hand on my bow. “Here, let me help you with this.”
I am surprised to see the bow still in my hands. Holding on to it is a habit. My fingers are so cold Dimitri can barely pry it from my hand, but after a moment, he finally manages to free it from my stiff fingers. He lifts it over my head, positioning it gently against my back.
“There you are. Now hold on tight.” He presses my hand to the front of the saddle until my fingers grip the leather of their own volition.
In this one instance, I do not mind being spoken to as a child.
Dimitri meets Edmund’s eyes and Edmund nods as if to prompt us forward in front of him, but Dimitri shakes his head.
“You must go in front. You will not be under my protection otherwise.” Edmund hesitates and Dimitri continues. “You have my word that nothing will happen to Lia.”
Hearing Dimitri speak my name, Edmund nods, urging his horse forward into the deeper water as Dimitri gathers Sargent’s reins, drawing my horse closer to his own mount.
“Hold on.” It is the last thing he says to me before following Edmund farther into the river.
At first, Sargent must be pulled forward by Dimitri’s strong hands, but as the horse finds it more and more difficult to maintain stability against the power of the current, he finally eases forward after Dimitri. I sense the animal’s trepidation as he seeks to gain his footing by stepping carefully along the rocks at the bottom of the river.
I cling to the saddle with all my might. My fingers cramp, but I hardly notice. I try to focus on Edmund in front of us, and when I look beyond him, I see Sonia and Luisa astride their horses on the opposite bank of the river. My spirits lift as I realize they have made it.
If they have made it, so can we.
But I do not have time to hope. All at once, Sargent falters, slipping and struggling to regain a foothold on the slippery river bottom. Panic surges through me as I slide off his back, the water closing in around my thighs as I hold desperately to the saddle. It is not the water itself that gives rise to terror, but the sound of it that threatens my last vestige of sanity. That mad roar, that frenzied race of water over rocks. It is the sound of my brother’s death. The sound of my own near death trying in vain to save him.
I fight the urge to scream, but when I look at Dimitri, his eyes are as steely as the sky above us. He is not afraid, and in his steadfast belief that we will make it across the river, I find my own belief.
I hold on tighter. “Come on, Sargent. We’re almost there. Don’t give up on me now.”
He doesn’t. He seems to understand, for his legs straighten and he lifts himself farther out of the water, plodding forward after Dimitri and his horse as if there was never any question of his doing so. It is only seconds later that the water level begins to drop, revealing first my sodden thighs, encased in the wet wool of my breeches, and then my calves. Soon enough, we are rising out of the depths of the river, and my feet are out of the water completely as Dimitri leads Sargent to the others waiting a few feet beyond the bank.
“Oh, my goodness, Lia!” Luisa dismounts and is on the ground in an instant. She rushes toward me, her shirt and pants as wet as those clinging to my own body. “Are you all right? I was so frightened!”
Sonia brings her horse over to mine, reaching over for one of my icy hands. “I didn’t know if you were going to make it!”
For a moment, all the suspicion of previous days drops away. For a moment, we are three friends as we have been since the prophecy first shrouded us in its murky secrets.
Edmund leads his horse over to us at a trot. He eyes Dimitri with something like ad
miration. “I didn’t expect you for two days yet, but I must say I’m glad you were early.”
My brain is fuzzy about the edges, and I only dimly register Edmund’s words and the fact that he knows Dimitri and was somehow expecting him. A clattering rises out of the quiet. I do not realize at first that it is coming from my mouth, but soon my teeth chatter together so noisily that I can hear them even above the river.
“She’s cold and in shock,” Dimitri says.
“Let’s get off this riverbank then.” Edmund’s eyes drift to the Hounds, still standing in the water as if they might make a run at us any moment. “I don’t like the look of them.”
Dimitri follows Edmund’s gaze to the Hounds before turning back to us. “They will not follow us, but that doesn’t mean we are free from danger. It would be wise to make camp for the night and regroup.”
Edmund turns and heads back to the front of the group. We fall into line out of habit, though Dimitri still leads Sargent by the reins. I do not have the energy to insist that I can manage fine on my own. In all honesty, I am relieved to let someone else take the lead for a while.
The forest begins again not far from the bank of the river. As we enter the darkness of the woods, I dare to glance back. I can see the Hounds over Edmund’s shoulder, still standing in the water where we left them. Their green eyes find mine even across the expanse of rushing water, even through the smoky twilight. They are the last things I see before we disappear into the woods once again.
“Drink this.” Dimitri holds a tin cup toward me and keeps me company while the others change out of their wet clothes.
I reach a hand out of the blanket wrapped around my shoulders to take the cup from him. “Thank you.”
It is bad tea, both leafy and weak. I have become used to it over the previous days, and after the cold of the river and the shock of the Hounds, I hardly notice its bitter heat. I hold the cup with both hands, sipping from it as I try to transfer its warmth to my still-cold hands.
Dimitri settles onto the log next to me, stretching his hands toward the fire Edmund built just after choosing this as our camp for the night.
“Are you all right, Lia?” My name sounds natural and right coming off his tongue.
“I think so. Just very cold.” I swallow hard, trying and failing to block from my mind my panic at the river. “I don’t know what happened back there. I just… I couldn’t move.”
“Lia.”
I do not want to turn at the sound of my name, but my eyes are drawn inexorably to his. His voice is a command I cannot ignore, though it is as gentle as the mist that hangs in the woods as night descends.
“I know what happened,” he continues, “and I don’t blame you.”
There is understanding in his eyes. It confuses and, yes, even angers me. I put the cup in the dirt next to me. “What, exactly, do you know about me? And how have you come to know it?”
His expression softens. “I know about your brother. I know he died in the river, and I know you were there.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I jump to my feet, walking somewhat unsteadily to the edge of the campsite to compose myself. When I think I can speak without a shaking voice, I stalk back to Dimitri, letting all the anger and frustration of the past weeks, no, the past months, flow through every crevice of my body.
“What can you know of my brother? What can you know of his death and my place in it?” I am unable to keep the bitterness from pouring out of my mouth. I have lost track of my own questions, but getting answers is no longer the point. “You know nothing of me. Nothing! And you have no right! No right to speak of my brother.”
My own mention of Henry dissolves my anger in an instant, and I am suddenly back to fighting the sadness, the overwhelming, all-consuming despair that nearly caused me to fling myself from the cliff near Birchwood before coming to London. All at once, I can do little more than stand in front of Dimitri, still clutching the blanket around my shoulders as my breath comes hard and fast on the heels of my tirade.
He stands and walks over to me, stopping only when he is very close. Too close.
His words, when they come, are colored with tenderness. “I know more than you think. About the prophecy. About your life before London. About you, Lia.”
For a moment, I think I will become lost in his eyes. I think I will drown and drown in the sea of them until I no longer wish to find my way home. But then his words drift back to me: I know more than you think. About the prophecy…
The prophecy. He knows about the prophecy.
“Wait a minute.” I step back. I am breathing hard, though this time from something far more complex than anger. “How can you know about the prophecy? Who, exactly, are you?”
14
Dimitri runs his fingers through his dark hair, and for a moment, he looks almost a boy. His face is grim as he gestures to the log near our feet. “You should probably sit down.”
“I would like to know who you are before I sit down, if you don’t mind.” I fold my arms across my chest.
He chuckles, and I throw him a look meant to stop his laughter in its tracks. It does not quite do its job. Not at first.
He sighs. “If I assure you that I am on your side, that I am here only to protect you, will you sit and let me explain?”
I try to find malice or dishonesty in his face, his eyes, but there is only truth.
I nod and sit. He did, after all, save me from the Hounds. And although I have not had the opportunity to speak to Edmund, it’s clear that he and Dimitri are somehow acquainted.
Dimitri lowers himself next to me. He spends a moment staring into the fire before speaking. “I am not supposed to be here at all,” he says. “I have… crossed boundaries to be here. Sacred boundaries that are not meant to be crossed.”
I am cold and tired, but I try to quell my frustration. “Why don’t you tell me everything?”
He looks up, meeting my eyes. “I am a member of the Grigori.”
“The Grigori? But I thought the Grigori’s purpose is to create and enforce the laws of the Otherworlds.”
“It is,” he says simply.
I shrug, not understanding. “Then why are you here?”
“I was sent to keep watch over you as you seek the missing pages and the other keys to the prophecy.”
“To keep watch over me? You mean to protect me?”
He takes a deep breath. “Not exactly.”
Now I am worried. “Why don’t you explain exactly what you were sent to do?”
“I was sent to ensure that you were not using prohibited magic in your quest to end the prophecy.” He says it all at once, and it only takes me a moment to realize why it took him so long to say such a simple thing.
“You were sent to spy on me?”
He does, at least, have the grace to look chagrined. “Lia, you must understand. The prophecy has been unfolding for centuries, but never has someone come so close to finding its end. Never have so many in the Otherworlds believed that the end may really be near. That Samael may finally end his rule in that world and, potentially, in this one.
“The Grigori wish more than anyone to see the prophecy brought to its end, to see peace in the Otherworlds. But things have gotten out of hand. And someone must try to keep them in hand as much as possible. That has always been the task of the Grigori.”
My fury boils over as I think of my sister. “And while I am under your supervision, what of Alice? Who is watching her while she runs roughshod over the laws of the Grigori?”
“We have tried watching Alice.” I hear the defeat in his voice. “It has done no good. Where even the Souls acknowledge the power of the Grigori, at least outwardly, Alice does not. She does not care for the laws of the Otherworlds, nor does she recognize our authority. Worse, she is powerful enough that she may travel the Plane at will while avoiding detection. Though I hate to admit it, she is beyond our control. I believe even the Souls are challenged to manage her.”
“Then why do they w
ork in concert with her? Why do they ally themselves with her at all?”
He raises his palms in a gesture of resignation. “Because they cannot have you. Alice is their most powerful ally in the physical world, even more powerful than the many Souls who are waiting here for Samael’s arrival, because she is connected to you. Through her, they hold out hope of reaching you.”
I shake my head. “But… Alice holds no sway over me. We are, for all intents and purposes, enemies.”
He tips his head. “Yet isn’t it true that you come if she summons you? That she comes if you summon her? Isn’t it true that you see her spirit form in the night when she travels the Plane? That she has seen you in the night as well, though you are thousands of miles apart?”
“Yes, but that was not my intention. I did not seek to show myself to Alice, to cross the boundaries of the Otherworlds. I was as surprised as anyone when she looked up from her ritual and saw me there.”
“I know. We all know. It is Alice who defies the laws of the Otherworlds by using her powers as a Spellcaster. But that is not the point, is it? At least not in this conversation?” He reaches out to take one of my hands. “The point is, you are connected, Lia. You share the inextricable bond of sisters, twins, and are further linked through the prophecy.
“The Souls know this. They cannot know for certain that Alice will give them any advantage in their quest to see Samael enter the physical world through the Gate. Through you, Lia. But neither can they afford to do away with her. She has been a great help to them so far. She has been their eyes and ears in the physical world. And then there is the matter of the missing pages.”
I have been lulled into a state of near tranquility through nothing more than the warmth of the fire and the gentle pressure of Dimitri’s hand over mine. But his mention of the missing pages causes me to shake the fog from my mind.
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