Iris Johansen - Deadlock

Irana didn't speak for a few moments as she and Emily strode across the frozen ground. "He was very… accepting." She suddenly chuckled. "You must have been stern with him."

Lord, it was good to hear Irana laugh. "We had a talk." She shook her head. "Though / hoped you'd go, too."

"I know." She looked straight ahead. "It would have been good to go home for a while. But it's not right for me. Not now. Last night I thought about it. I prayed about it." She shook her head. "And I still came out with the same answer." She glanced at Emily with the faintest hint of mischief. "Now you should say, 'Whatever you want, Irana.'"

"No way."

"That's what I like to hear." Her smile faded. "Don't feel sad for me. I'm healing, Emily. Every minute, every hour, I'm healing and becoming the stronger for it."

"Considering who you are, that doesn't surprise me." She hesitated, then said with a touch of awkwardness, "I… care about you. No, I guess I love you, Irana. I've always been afraid to make friends because I was always traveling, always having to leave them, and that hurt. It was okay with Joel because he was in the same job, and I could keep him with me." She shook her head. "I think you know how I feel, but I was cursing myself yesterday because I'd never said the words. You're my friend and my sister, and I thank God that Garrett pushed me into your life." She cleared her throat. "Even though I've caused you a world of trouble." She held up her hand. "Sorry. No guilt. No blame."

"Right. And it's never trouble when you care about someone as I care for you, Emily. Because I think God may have wanted to bring us together for a reason. Or maybe just to comfort and protect each other as friends do. That's sometimes reason enough." Irana looked away from her. They had reached the center of the field, and she jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze on the gray clouds hanging low over the flat, barren fields. "Yes, this land has a kind of somber splendor. And you can feel the storms that have passed through here. My island of Mykala is very ancient, but you don't feel the same sense of disturbance and turmoil. It's more serene."

Irana clearly wanted to ease the subject away from the personal and Emily followed her lead. "Russia has had a very turbulent history."

She nodded. "And the years that Mikhail Zelov was trying to ma¬nipulate the Tsar and Tsarina were some of the most violent. It wasn't the time to have a weak Tsar like Nicholas II. He sat on his throne sur¬rounded by his beautiful wife and family and couldn't believe that revolution was right around the corner. For centuries the Tsars had been all-powerful, living in magnificence almost beyond comprehen¬sion. Why should they think that they would be deposed by those rabid Bolsheviks? Communism was everywhere, but the Tsar thought he had history on his side." She grimaced. "Until history was blown to bits when they took the royal family prisoner and executed them."

"But what did the Church have to do with all that turmoil?"

"Nicholas was very religious and trying to keep the Church afloat. Everyone was trying to climb over each other and gain power, and the Church was just attempting to keep the power it had."

"You sound as if you've studied it."

"When I was young, I studied all the religions of the world, includ¬ing the Russian Orthodox Church. The Church was woven into the history of Russia. As I said, the power of the Church was being chipped away by all kinds of factions. It was a time of change. That was how Rasputin gained influence in the Church. They were looking for some¬one who could bolster its popularity. Enter Rasputin, who claimed to be a miracle worker and holy man and had a lot of people believing him." She shook her head. "But I never ran across any stories of Zelov."

"Evidently that was how he liked it," Emily said. "He was an evil man, and the evil he did is still present and continuing." She looked at Irana. "How could that happen? How could Mikhail Zelov not have been punished for his sins? He ended up in America with a fortune. Why didn't God do something?"

"Maybe he did. How do you know Zelov was happy with all his riches? You don't know the torment of the soul."

Emily was silent. "That wouldn't be good enough for me. And what about Staunton? Don't you want to go after him and punish him for what he did to you?"

"I was thinking about that last night. I'm terribly angry, and it's dif¬ficult for me to-" She shook her head. "But I won't let him twist what I am. He's evil, Emily. Perhaps the most evil man I've ever known. As long as he's free, he'll be a danger to everyone around him. That's why I have to stay, why I have to help you. I have to make sure that he can't hurt anyone else. But it can't be just for my sake. I have to trust that it's also God's will, and he will help me."

Emily shook her head. "I'm not like you. I can't wait for fate or God to give their okay. I want to make sure that evil is punished."

"You mean you want to do it yourself." Irana smiled. "That's a sol¬dier's philosophy. Sometimes you have to leave things to God."

"Suppose I help him a little."

Irana smiled. "That sounds like Garrett. You're very alike, you know."

"No, I don't know." She started walking across the field toward the farmhouse. "And he doesn't think I'm a soldier. He wants me to sit with my hands crossed while he goes out and does-" She shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

"He let you go out and risk your life last night. It wasn't easy for him."

"That was different. That was for you, Irana." "Yes, that was for me."

And Emily could see the faintest shadow returning to her expression, and she said quickly, "I don't want to talk about Garrett. Besides everything else, I'm very angry with him for bringing you here."

"He gave me a choice. I told you once, he always gives me a choice," she added, "And he said something about me being helpful in dealing with the Russian Orthodox Church if needed."

"Nicholas Zelov went to Bishop Dimitri first and offered to sell him the amulets and the Book of Living before Joslyn started negotia¬tions. Garrett wanted to know why. I do, too, but it's not something we couldn't have handled." Emily made a face. "I know, I said I didn't want to talk about him, but here I am doing it."

"Because you can think of nothing else."

"I can think that I'm very glad to have my friend here. Though you should never have come."

"And I believe I should be here," Irana said quietly. "I knew when Garrett asked me to come that there was something waiting for me here. I don't what it is, but maybe God had a purpose."

"Staunton was waiting for you. I don't think much of that pur¬pose."

"No, Staunton is just a hurdle to overcome. It's something else that's waiting." She gazed once more at the gray clouds that didn't seem to move in the still sky. "And none of it will be your fault or your doing, Emily."

Emily felt a chill. "That's a good way to lighten my day."

Irana smiled. "Stop fretting. It may be a happy purpose. Most of God's plans are full of joy." She took Emily's hand. "Now we will go back so that we won't upset Garrett's plans. He seems to want us out of here and on the road."

"He wants to protect us."

"And there's nothing really wrong with that in spite of your re¬sentment at his interference in your independence. It's his nature." Her pace increased as she dropped Emily's hand. "We have no light¬house, but the farmhouse will do. Race me?"

"Why not?" It was a surprise that she welcomed, a return to the routine of Mykala, and perhaps a sign of that healing Irana had spo¬ken about.

Emily took off running. She could feel the cool wind in her hair, and Irana was beside her. For this single moment, everything was good and right. Not perfect. But she would take it.