Sarwat Chadda - Dark Goddess

Ivan shrugged. “Things didn’t turn out that badly.”

“Glad you’re so stoic about it. Last night you were sleeping in a four-poster bed with silk sheets; tonight you’ve got pine needles and snow.”

“But with you, da ?” He smiled. “You would have made a fine tsarina.”

Billi scraped her hair back into a bun. “I’m sure I would have. When you’d run out of your supermodels.”

Billi saw Ivan try to smile back, but all he could do was shake. He’d lost a lot of blood, and was weak.

“We need to warm you up some more.” She picked up her kukri.

Billi quickly cut down some of the lower, drier branches and built up a fire at the mouth of the cave. It wasn’t quite Davy Crockett, but it would do.

“We’ll rest here tonight,” she said. She threw some more branches onto the fire. Damn it! We were so close. She stared into the forest. Vasilisa was in there some-where.

She picked up her satellite phone and called her father.

The reception was awful, but she could just hear his voice. He sounded like he was down a mine shaft, shouting up.

“Billi? Where are you?”

“We’ve been delayed. Badly.”

“You okay?”

Billi looked at Ivan. His face was bloodless and his mouth drawn into a tight grimace.

“Don’t worry about us,” she said. Ivan flinched as she spoke. She couldn’t risk the Templars wasting time looking for them. Vasilisa was the priority. “Where are you?”

“En route. Elaine called and filled me in. But I found Vasilisa’s granny.”

“And?”

“You know most of it. Baba Yaga disappeared right after the Tunguska meteor strike.” Arthur huffed, probably angry that they’d had the means to destroy Baba Yaga-the Venus figurine-and not realized. “But the old granny gave us some useful advice. Baba Yaga is strongest in the wilderness; the deeper she lives in the forest the more powerful she becomes. So the opposite is true: she’s weakest in cities. It makes sense. That’s why she relies on the Polenitsy; otherwise she’d have come for Vasilisa herself. Take her out of the woods and we may have a chance against her.”

“We could kill her?”

“We could try.” He sighed. “But it’s a bloody big risk if we’re wrong. Stick to the plan, as agreed.”

Billi bit her lip. There was no escaping it. “We still need to find Vasilisa.”

“There’s a wolf reserve deep in the forest. And an extensive cave network in that region. If she’s anywhere, it’s there. I’ll text you the coordinates.”

So many pieces were coming together-Baba Yaga’s weaknesses, the location of the wolves-but was it too late? Without the Venus figurine, they were missing the biggest piece. Billi looked at her dad’s coordinates and checked the map. The boundary of the wolf compound was ten miles away. The sun would be up in a few hours, and she could get going. Ten miles through dense snow? It would take four or five hours.

But that meant leaving Ivan. He sat quietly, gingerly settling his leg in the least painful position. They’d only known one another for a few days, but she’d come to depend on him. She wouldn’t abandon him; she’d find a way to make him safe before she went. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning.

Billi turned and picked up her pistol and emptied the magazine, throwing the 9mm rounds into the bushes. The steel-jacketed bullets were man-killers, but she needed wolf-killers. She loaded in fifteen of Lance’s silver bullets.

Ivan groaned as he eased himself against the rock. The alcove under the rock was cold, but with enough pine branches the worst of the wind was cut off.

Billi shuffled in next to Ivan and checked his splint.

Then they huddled together under blankets while using the flight map and GPS to establish their approximate position. South was the Pripyat River, which crossed through into Belarus and Ukraine beyond. Maybe, if the river wasn’t totally iced up, they could organize a lift from a boat. Or at least Ivan could. Billi still had work to do.

The leg looked even worse in the firelight. Billi had done her best to patch the deep cut, but the crude bandages-torn strips of blanket-were already soaked. Ivan just lay there, eyes closed, utterly still. No breath stirred. Billi touched his hand.

Her heart seemed to stop. It was ice-cold.

“Ivan?”

“Mmm?” His eyelids fluttered and opened.

“Just checking.”

Thank you, God.

He looked up at her, grimly determined, grimly hanging on. Ivan wasn’t going to die tonight.

Billi swallowed back her tears. Not like this. She’d already lost Kay-she wouldn’t lose Ivan too. Whatever was ahead she would face it with Ivan. No matter what.

Then she sat listening to the trees groaning in the wind.

“Tell me about Arthur,” said Ivan. He lay against the rock, gazing into the fire. Billi lowered the scarf she’d wrapped around her face. “What makes you think I want to discuss my dad with you?”

Ivan laughed. “Billi, what difference could it possibly make now?”

The flames waved and hissed as the snowflakes danced. Her father had brought her up ever since her mother had been murdered. “It’s been him and me since I was five.”

“Is that why you wanted to be a Templar? To be like him?” Billi shook her head. “No. He made me join the Order. I hated him.”

Hated him. Yes, it was true. She had hated him for years. Her training had begun at ten, and it had been brutal. Most of the scars Ivan had seen had come from her countless hours in the armory. The more you bleed in practice, the less you bleed in battle. That’s what her father believed. So she’d practiced with swords, with daggers, with anything that couldbe calleda weapon. Again and again she’d turned up at school with bruises or cuts, even with a broken wrist once. But her dad had only pushed her harder so that when the time came, she’d be ready.

And the time had come, sooner than expected. She’d faced the Angel of Death and she had been ready.

“Then I understood why my father was the way he was. I saw things differently.”

“What changed?” Ivan shuffled closer, adjusting the blanket so it covered them both.

“Kay. The boy I killed.” She closed her eyes and there he was.

She stares into his eyes as creeping death turns them dull. His blood is warm on her hand as it trickles along the blade, and his chest slowly rises, then sinks.

“It’s okay, Billi,” he says. His breath is warm with fading life. Then his breath stops.

“I loved him and I killed him. I had no choice.” Billi felt her chest tightening.

“Is that how you feel now? That you have no choice?” Ivan put his hand on Billi’s. “That to stop Baba Yaga you must kill Vasilisa?”

Billi sighed and gazed deep into the flames.

“This is what your father would do, yes?”

“Maybe my dad’s way is the only way.” Billi blinked and drew her sleeve across her face.

Elaine’s clues to destroying Baba Yaga were useless without the figurine, and they were running out of time and options. Billi had to prepare herself. She had to be more like Arthur: cold and heartless. That seemed to be her future, no matter what. To be like her father. Just like her father.

“That is a sad way to live, I think.”

Billi turned sharply, but she could see that Ivan didn’t meanitasa criticism. Justa fact. There wasno arguing with the truth.

“For a Templar, it’s the only way,” she answered. She was afraid of what he must think of her. But Ivan said nothing. He just put his arm around her.

“My father had noble ideals. He knew that evil had to be fought, and that good men died.” Ivan stared into the flames, lost in old memories. “I wish I had fought beside him.” He looked at Billi, smiling softly. “I will fight beside you, Billi.”