Tiger’s Tale (The Tiger’s Curse #1)

15. Miracles Frequently Arrive in Storm Clouds of Trouble

15

MIRACLES FREQUENTLY ARRIVE IN STORM CLOUDS OF TROUBLE

To make matters worse, the hunter then took out a musical instrument of some kind and began strumming it, not stopping for hours. Hours! Nik yanked his cap down over his ears, trying to stuff the flaps into his eardrums, but it was no use. The man even hummed and occasionally sang. If he could have gagged him, he would have.

It wasn’t that Nik had never heard music before. The barracks were often filled with the sounds of various instruments night after night. There was always clapping and dancing. The problem was that music was always associated with celebration and drinking, and those two activities were something Nik avoided at all costs.

His first memory of music and dancing had been during a Christmastide celebration with his mother. For once his father had been in good spirits. Even his mother was in a rare happy mood. Their family had actually gone to a service, since the townspeople had just finished building the brand-new little church and their father wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Not that he’d contributed anything to it in money or labor. No. Not his father. Nik’s good old papka just wanted to make an appearance and see if there was anyone around he might wish to impress.

As such, his mama was full of brightness and hope for a change. They’d stopped at the market, and somehow either his mama or one of his siblings had asked their father at just the right time if they might have some nuts. Papka, not willing to be embarrassed in front of the other men, acquiesced and bought them, making a big fuss over Mama, claiming it was her Christmastide gift and handing her the package with a gentleman’s bow and even a kiss on the cheek.

When the merchant clapped happily at his display, Nik’s father grinned widely, and even added a few other items to the purchase, including a large bottle of rum. The whole family seemed cheered by the trip to town. When they arrived home, his mother began cooking. She made a Nesselrode pudding for the first time that day. His father even donated some of his rum to flavor it. Nik recalled it being the best thing he’d ever eaten in his life.

That evening, after feasting like kings, Nik’s mother took out a box he’d never seen before. She said it had been a gift from her parents when she married their father. Opening a little drawer in the bottom, she took out a key and inserted it into a keyhole, then wound it until it stopped. With her children gathered round her, their tiny tummies full, and their hearts and faces overflowing with Christmastide happiness, their mother seemed joyful too. For the first time in Nikolai’s memory, she seemed happy and peaceful, and to Nik, that day she looked like an angel.

The little box began to play a merry and bright tune. The young children clapped in delight and began twirling about the room. When it stopped, they asked her to make it work again. This time, she had Nik wind the box. “How does it play?” he asked. “There’s no man inside to work the instrument.”

“Open it and look,” his mother answered with a secretive smile meant just for him.

He did, and Nik was fascinated by what he saw.

“It’s like the comb I use to pull the tangles from your sister’s hair,” she explained. “They make a sound when they pass over the little metal bumps on the wheel.”

“Da!” Nik replied excitedly. “I see it, Mama!”

“Good, moy syn,” she replied with a soft smile, then set down the music box and held out her hands. “Now, how about a dance with your mama?”

“But... I don’t know how.”

“I’ll teach you. Just follow my steps.”

As his mother waltzed with him around the room chanting, “Raz, dva, tri, raz, dva, tri,” over and over and laughing as they took turns spinning each other around, his father watched the two of them from his chair in the corner of the room. The liquid in the bottle of rum he’d bought slowly disappeared as he watched his family celebrate. He didn’t join them, but his gaze never left them. Instead of dulling his vision, if anything his eyes grew brighter and more focused as they danced. Sadly, his thoughts were far from being “goodwill toward men.”

That night, when the young children were all tucked into their beds and Nik had just finished his outdoor chores in the barn, his father, still warmed by rum and his mother’s sleeping body, took hold of his firstborn and abused him, sorely, wickedly. Nikolai’s papka had hurt him before physically, certainly. But to force the same attentions on his son that he did on his mother was not only cruel and vicious but sick.

When his father stumbled back to his bed, Nik vomited all over himself and laid in it, crying for hours. He’d only just cleaned himself and the floor and climbed into his own bed next to his siblings before falling into a nightmarish, restless sort of sleep, when his father called out to him to get up and come help him with the morning chores.

Never again did Nik celebrate, dance, or sing. And never again did he laugh or smile in his mother’s presence. He wasn’t absolutely certain his mama knew what his father had done to him, but whether she did or didn’t, Nik still blamed her. He hated himself for it, too, because a part of him loved her still. It didn’t matter, though, because just thinking about her made him want to vomit.

Just like hearing music did.

Veru had asked him, begged him even, time and again to join her at one party or another, and he always made an excuse. He couldn’t dance, he’d say. Then she’d reply that she’d teach him. Or he’d tell her that he hated dressing up. She’d only answer that she did too. Nik would try to distract her, saying she wouldn’t even notice if he wasn’t there anyway what with all the pretty-boy suitors her parents had lined up for her. They’d all be stupid as boulders, of course.

Inevitably, she’d laugh at that and agree with him, which was always a relief. Truthfully, he panicked thinking about a suitor coming to call on Veru. It had never been likely her parents would choose someone ill-suited for her. The tsarina had been particularly intelligent and observant when it came to the aristocracy. And Veru’s mama wasn’t stubborn about bloodlines either. If she hadn’t found a suitable match for either of her daughters from those of highborn lineage, then she would have looked elsewhere.

Nikolai had no doubt that the matches she orchestrated for both her daughters would have pleased not only herself but the both of them, and it would have benefited the empire as well. Such was the skill set of the tsarina Ludmila Marianka Sashenka Stepanov. Though their mother had accepted the friendship between Veru and Nik, he had seen the tsarina eyeing him on more than one occasion, and he knew what it meant. Even without words, her message was clear.

The tsarevna Verusha is not for you.

Though she was gone, he still felt her knowing gaze on him. He knew he wasn’t worthy. He knew he didn’t deserve her. What he really deserved... Nikolai didn’t want to think about. But by heaven, if he couldn’t have Veru, then he’d make absolutely sure whoever did was worthy of her. The man who came to court her would not only be sun-god beautiful and the most skillful politician but he’d also treat her as an equal and be able to protect her at least as ably as she could herself.

Frankly, Nik wasn’t sure such a man existed. Even so, he certainly wasn’t going to have some smug, music-playing, hair-in-his-eyes, crooner-slash-hunter run off with the most eligible, most unique, most magnificent woman... er... tsarevna-turned-tiger in the realm either. Nik didn’t care if she hated him for it. He wasn’t going to let it happen. If he had to protect her from herself, he would. That’s what friends did for each other.

Finally, the man stopped his infernal strumming, and it was like all the tension in Nik’s muscles could finally melt away. He rolled to his side with his back to the fire and had just closed his eyes and started to breathe deeply when a tail hit his face. Sputtering, he cracked open an eye, trying to brush the bits of fur from his mouth and was about to lecture Veru for taking so long to come back to his side, when he realized in the darkness it wasn’t Veru but Stacia.

“Who invited you over here?” he said moodily. “Keep your tail out of my face, would you? Next time, I’ll bite.”

In response, the big red tiger lifted her head from her sleeping position and bared her fangs. He got the message but snorted anyway. “Yeah, yeah. You have bigger teeth. So what? I’m not afraid of you, Stacia.”

It was quiet for just a moment, and Nik was just about to drift off when Stacia suddenly lurched at him, snapping her jaws just a few inches from his face. He screamed and then laid there panting while she blasted him with a steamy breath from her nostrils, her chest puffing in a noise that sounded to him suspiciously like tiger laughter.

“Cut it out, I said!” he barked, doing his best to wrestle her away, though she was far too heavy for him to move. She allowed his feeble pushes to work, though, and repositioned herself away from him, laying down and giving her tail a final flick in his direction. After that, the camp fell silent until morning.

[ASTERISM]

The next day no one spoke at all. Nik was all glares and seething hostility, while Danik was full of whistles and smiles. The tigers appeared to be in good spirits, lapping up the snowmelt from the campfire and the remains of the roast boar that Nikolai and Danik set out for them. Once their packs were on their backs, Nik having donned his other pair of boots, seeing as how the tigers made it clear they intended to walk with Danik for a time by avoiding him and his touch, Nik finally broke the silence, and said, “Well, hunter, where are we headed?”

“Since you asked, I’m thinking I need to figure out what kind of magic you’re practicing, Grand Mag-ass.”

“I’ll thank you to stop calling me that.”

“Maybe you will. If I choose to call you something else. But seeing as how you still have atrocious manners and have never bothered to tell me your actual name, I don’t really have any other option now, do I?”

Danik grinned, turned on his heel, and said, “Let’s move along, Mag-ass.”

Stacia could almost see the steam coming out of Nik’s ears. She’d never seen him react that way to anyone before. To the other soldiers, he was always deferential. When they mocked him, he let Veru fight his battles. Never once had she seen him stand up for himself. It was interesting.

Most of the time he was simply mooning over Veru, or serving Veru, or asking her where to find Veru. Never had she seen him take the lead or offer insight or direction. He constantly sat at Veru’s heels, waiting on her beck and call. He’d never had a voice before. For the first time in... ever, she felt she was seeing the real Nikolai. Not that Veru was noticing her friend or his reactions. She appeared to be mooning herself, over the hunter.

Even now Veru was walking right beside the hunter, completely oblivious to her sister or Nik. Every once in a while, the hunter’s hand would drift down to touch Veru’s head or stroke her neck. Stacia found it fascinating. Veru didn’t typically encourage male attention. She wondered what exactly had happened between the two of them during their time apart.

“If you must address me, call me Nikolai,” Nik said from a few paces away.

“Nikolai. And where do you hail from?”

“I said if you must address me.”

“It’s a long walk,” Danik reasoned.

Nik grunted angrily and spat, “The capital.”

“I didn’t ask where you worked. You weren’t born in the capital, were you?”

“ No ,” Nik replied with pursed lips and a bitter, heated expression. “Why must you pry into my life?”

“Simple. You ask me to trust you with the lives of these tigers. Would you not do the same?”

At that moment, Veru looked over at Nik, and his hard expression cracked. “Yes,” he answered. Stacia noted that when Veru eyed her friend, his shoulders dropped, and his angry tone diminished to the point of falling away completely.

“Fine. My name is Nikolai Novikov. The small family farm where I was born and raised once laid alongside the Pinega River. It is now gone. The home and barn burned to the ground many years ago. I am responsible for its destruction, along with the deaths of my parents and siblings. I’m the only survivor. Someday I might share the details, but not today.”

Stacia was immediately interested in what happened. How old had he been, she wondered. She’d known since he showed up with the monk that there was much, much more to Nik than she had ever believed, but responsible for the deaths of his own family? Was it accidental, or did he mean murder? Just how far would he go to get what he wanted? Clearly much farther than either of them had ever suspected. That he would admit such a thing was nearly as shocking. What did he expect to gain from it? Redemption? Love? Forgiveness? Understanding? Glancing over at Veru, she was surprised to see her sister still staring straight ahead. Did she already know? Didn’t she care about her friend? Or had she already cut him out of her life?

If such a tragedy had happened to one of her soldiers, Stacia would have pulled him out of the ranks and sent him in for evaluation. Long ago she’d learned from her father that those who have ongoing battles in their minds sometimes get confused on the battlefield. They make mistakes, very often dangerous ones that could lead not only to tremendous losses but even catastrophic outcomes in war. He’d taught her that it’s better to keep them home or send them to specialty training.

Nikolai must have lied in the interviews. That’s the only way he would have been allowed into the Royal Guard training. Unless... Veru...

Stacia again looked over at her sister, but there was no sign or sound of sadness or empathy. She simply stared straight ahead as she walked. There was, however, a sign of pity on the face of the hunter. His eyes were now fixed on Nik.

“I... see,” he said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Nik scoffed. “Why are you sorry? It’s not your loss.”

“No. But like you, my parents are gone. I never had any siblings. I envy you that.”

“I wouldn’t. Too many children are a blight on the world. It’s like too many kittens. They must be drowned, else they overpopulate the area.”

Stacia let out a steamy puff of air. She realized then that if Nik’s mental state hadn’t already been troubled, it certainly was now. Perhaps the stress of caring for the two of them was making it worse. Perhaps he already knew he’d lost his place, his hope. That what he’d done had not only risked their lives but might destroy the empire. She briefly wondered if he might be under the influence of the sorcerer even now, but she dismissed it. There had been no sign of him.

It was clear that adding the hunter to the mix wasn’t aiding Nik’s mental state either, but on the other hand, Stacia could also see the benefits of having an experienced hunter who knew the area helping them. She decided it would be a good thing to keep an eye on Nikolai Novikov.

Danik, oblivious to Stacia’s thoughts, glanced over at Nik. “I can see you’ve given this much thought. Though I disagree with you, we’ll speak of this another time, when you’re less sensitive about the subject.”

“I highly doubt that will happen.”

Shifting his pack, Danik said, “Pain fades over time. Old wounds cause stiffness, and there are some that fester and need a great deal of digging out or even amputation before they can heal, but in my experience, a body naturally wants to heal.”

The hunter winked at Veru and gave her a nod, which again made Stacia wonder what, exactly, the two of them had been through. His words and tone indicated he might have witnessed Veru’s healing abilities firsthand, and he had mentioned finding her in an animal trap of some type and that she’d been injured. Stacia wasn’t sure it was wise for the young man to know everything about them, but at the same time they needed allies, and her instincts, both human and animal, told her to trust the man. She tended to rely on instinct, even before she’d turned into a cat.

There was also the fact that Stacia liked what the hunter said and the way his mind worked. He was clearly bright and intelligent. As to his thoughts on pain and healing, she generally agreed with the things he said and found wisdom in his counsel. Like Nik, she was still in pain, though it was of a different sort. She and Veru were still healing from the death of their mother.

Stacia didn’t know how Veru felt about the loss of their home, the potential loss of the empire their parents had built, and the deaths of many of their closest guards, but to her there were too many to allow herself to think about. When she did, she felt herself shutting down. Going numb. It made her feel like rolling over in the dirt and sleeping through the days, not eating, or drinking, just sleeping until one day she didn’t wake up. How could she move forward when loss clung to her like weights around her feet, holding so tightly she couldn’t budge?

Perhaps her sister had found recovery of a sort during her time with the young man. Music had always brought their mother peace. In truth, Veru was much fonder of the musicians than she. Stacia preferred the ringing knell of sword clash to the plucking of strings, and the lilting melodies of pipes tickled her spine until she wanted to dance out of her chair and head out of the room to clear her head.

But she could admit it took a great deal of precision and skill to do what he did. Watching his fingers play on the strings made her whiskers twitch, but it reminded her of stringing a taut bow and aiming it at a knot on a tree. When she hit her mark, she could almost hear the arrow sing in the air. His music was not all that different. It required practice and exactness.

That level of determination was something she admired and rewarded in her soldiers. Stacia was also appreciative of the way he’d handled Nikolai. He was firm, intelligent, and he had a backbone. Yes. The hunter had potential. Perhaps there was more to him as well than just hunting and music.

“Sometimes you don’t heal,” Nik said. “Sometimes a body dies. Then sometimes it comes back again.”

That statement caught Stacia’s attention.

Giving Nik a puzzled sort of look, Danik replied, “I’m not sure about the coming-back part, but you’re right about healing. Still, I’ve found that if a body has the right motivation, healing can happen in most cases.”

Grunting, Nik refused to speak further on the matter.

Toward afternoon, they stopped to check a trap but found nothing. It only took a moment for Danik to reset it, and they pressed on.

By late afternoon, the winds had pick up and clouds had filled the sky, making the heavens as roiling and dark as an angry sea.

“We’d best find shelter,” Danik said. “It looks like a bad storm.”

“Do you think it will blow over by tomorrow?” Nik asked, speaking loudly over the wind and holding his hat on his head so it wouldn’t blow away.

After a brief search of the sky, Danik replied, “I’m uncertain. Storms like this don’t normally hit at this time of year. When they do, they’re unpredictable. Some blow themselves out quickly, but others can last days or even weeks before a reprieve.”

“Weeks?” Nik puffed out a breath and glanced back at Stacia and then at Veru. “The thing is... the longer they’re gone, the more likely the empire will fall. In fact, there might not even be an empire left for them to run if I can’t get them back by the end of winter.”

“Right,” Danik said. “Well, since you haven’t really told me what you’re trying to accomplish, exactly , I’d say we should first prioritize. Let’s not worry about the empire just yet, shall we? How about instead we worry about riding out the storm first? You know, surviving? The first time I went out hunting with my cousin and started complaining about my feet, he said, ‘Don’t look at the mountain in the distance. Just focus on the hill in front of you.’”

Danik clapped Nik on the back and grinned. “What do you say we give it a try, Nikolai mag-ass?”

Nik narrowed his eyes and threatened, with his finger raised, “One more time and I’m getting out my book of spells.”

Danik began walking backward, his grin still wide. He caught his hat in his hands just before it blew away. Dark blond hair blew in his eyes. Though the snow and wind stole the sound of his words, Nik could still hear the echoes of the hunter’s laughter and just barely make out the phrase by reading his lips, “Do you promise, Maaaag-assssss?”

“Gah!” Nik screamed into the icy particles of snow and wind and stomped behind the irritating man, trying to catch glimpses of Veru before she disappeared into what would soon become a blizzard.

As he walked in Danik’s footprints, his head down and his feet sinking deeper and deeper into the snow with each passing moment, he cursed the man with every word he could think of and then, when he ran out of words, he began inventing new ones. Every step marked a new descriptive term for the man, and it soothed Nik somewhat that he could yell his feelings as loudly as he liked, and the man couldn’t hear him.

“Pretentious... blathering”— stomp... stomp —“narcissistic... overbearing”— stomp... stomp —“incorrigible...” Nik couldn’t think of another word, so he paused for a moment, and then the perfect term came to mind. Raising his arms in the air, he shouted loudly, “Povesa!”

Pausing, he glanced around, expecting to see Stacia at least, but no one was nearby. When he looked down, he found he couldn’t even see Danik’s footprints any longer. In fact, he couldn’t see more than two arm lengths beyond his body now in any direction. Panic grabbed hold. He was lost. Nik was about to start cursing himself for being a glupec when someone grabbed his arm from behind.

“There you are!” Danik said. “Good thinking shouting like that. The tigers have exceptionally good hearing, even in the storm.”

Nik saw a flash of gold and red next to the man. Both the tigers were heavily covered with snow. Stopping near Nik, they shook themselves hard and snow splattered on both him and Danik.

“Best stick close to each other now,” Danik said. “Easy to get lost in a storm like this. What were you shouting anyway?”

“Nothing important,” Nik said.

Stacia, who kept herself pressed close to Nik, forcing him to walk next to Danik, looked up at him, and despite the freezing temperatures, his face turned red under her scrutiny.

“So where is your next campsite?” Nik yelled above the wind.

Danik shrugged. “Don’t have one in this area. I just usually find whatever works.”

“No cave? No supplies? No stream or river? Nothing?” Nik screamed incredulously.

Shaking his head, Danik said, “This one came on quick. We’re out in the open here with no trees, mountains, or hills, for at least a day in any direction.”

“We’re not going to survive out here in this. Where’s your next shelter?” Nik asked.

Danik rubbed some snow off the golden stubble on his cheek. “There’s a small farming town about three days northeast of here called Polensk. When I trade there, the priest will often let me sleep in the stables behind the church. It’s the closest shelter.”

Shivering, Nik glanced down at Veru. Her entire body was once again covered with snow. Quickly he whipped off his pack and crouched down. Pulling out his magic boots, and with only a moment’s hesitation and a single curse, he thrust them at Danik. “Okay, here’s how this is going to work. Since you know where we’re going, you put these on, and they help you walk or run very, very fast. You’ll also be invisible—that is, we won’t be able to see you either. We can move at the same speed you do, at least I think we’ll be able to, but the catch is, you have to be touching us. Otherwise, you’ll lose us like we lost Veru, and out here, that will be a death sentence.”

Danik took the magic offering with a raised eyebrow, then quickly slipped off his snowshoes, handing them over to Nik, who stared at them a minute, knowing he’d never run quickly in them, but put them on anyway. After shoving his foot into the first boot, Danik realized they were too small for him. He was about to yank them off, when, somehow, the fur and leather stretched and reformed itself, covering his foot perfectly. Danik laughed. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah. I know,” Nik said grudgingly. To his surprise, Danik didn’t disappear. It seemed that part only worked in tandem with his tunic, which was still in his bag. Nik wasn’t going to complain about that or offer anything else. “Huh,” he said. “Never mind about the invisible thing. I can still see you.”

Taking Nik at his word, Danik put on the second boot, held out an arm, and wrapped it around Nik in a half bear hug so tight, Nik wished with all his might he could push the hunter’s arm away, but he knew it was the safest thing for the moment. Since Veru was on the hunter’s other side, the man bent his lanky form in an uncomfortable position, tugging Nik along with him so he could wrap his other arm around her neck.

Nik wasn’t sure how they’d travel that way, but he went ahead and put his arm around Stacia, too, hoping the boots would work with the four of them. “Take a few steps at first,” Nik said, “to see if it will work with four. It might be that you have to be touching all of us. In that case, I’m not sure what we’ll do.”

Together the group walked awkwardly and then tried trotting a few steps, but it quickly became apparent that Stacia could not keep up. Even wearing snowshoes, Nik was moving faster than Stacia as a tiger, that meant the magic only worked with the person being touched by the boot wearer.

“It’s not working,” Nik said as they ran back to her.

“It was worth a try,” Danik replied, bending to remove the boot. He’d gotten one off and was hobbling in the snow, trying to balance to slip his foot back into his old boot, when a powerful wind knocked him down on his back. Veru stuck her face near his, and when she did, her paw touched the forgotten magic snow boot. Instantly, the fur and fabric began knitting itself around her paw, and the laces lifted of their own accord. They stretched out, encasing her other legs, then broke off, creating three new boots.

When her feet were covered with the new magic snow boots, now colored gold and white, the laces continued to move up her body, enclosing her chest and circling her belly. Quickly they molded and hardened, becoming a gold leather saddle encrusted with diamonds and gemstones.

Instead of a bridle and reins, the laces created an elaborate carved handhold made of gilded copper wire. Thin gold-leaf panels fanned out behind the saddle, unrolling along her flanks and down her back to her tail. Each one looked like a peacock feather with a large silvery gemstone, the same color of her eyes, placed at the tip.

Nik stood still, amazed at what he saw, while Danik sat frozen in the snow, his hand gripping the second boot. It was Danik who moved first, quickly pulling off the second boot. “Tsarevna Anastasia? Would you mind coming closer?”

Swallowing, still not moving, Nik said only, “She... she prefers Stacia.”

“Stacia, then,” the hunter said as the red-striped tiger approached, blowing a puff of warm air into his face. “If I may, Tsarevna,” he said, and held out the magic boot for her front paw.

She lifted a paw gingerly and barely touched it to the boot when the same amazing enchantment began its work on her. This time the boots and saddle changed to a new color. Instead of the white, silver, and gold like her sister, Stacia’s saddle was made of the finest black leather, sable, and mink fur.

The back portion also fanned out but in a different shape—less featherlike and more geometric. It was also a bit more intricate than her sister’s, and it gleamed with sparkling opals, pearls, diamonds, obsidian, and onyx. In the center, where the black braided handhold wove itself, the saddle created the largest, most brilliant emerald either of the men had ever imagined.

When Stacia turned toward them, Nik noticed for the first time just how green her eyes were. They were the same color as the emerald. The black suited her, too, he thought. It was dignified. Regal. Also, she was still in mourning for her mother, so it was appropriate. Not for the first time he had the impression that he was looking at the next tsarina and that he should bow. Instead, he just dipped his head in a respectful nod, but he didn’t think she noticed.

“Obviously we are meant to ride,” Danik said. “Is such a thing proper?”

“I don’t know about proper,” Nik said. “You’re the hunter. Are they strong enough to carry us?”

Danik scoffed. “Even if they were simply average tigers, which I assure you they are not, they would be strong enough.”

“Okay,” Nik said. “We’ll try it. But you must stay together,” he warned the tigers. “And if you tire, stop. Agreed?”

Veru made the chuffing sound, and Stacia echoed it. They moved next to each other and waited. Hoisting their packs, both men headed toward Veru. When Nik insisted he take Veru, Danik held up his hands, not wanting to argue. Danik tried throwing a leg over Stacia, but he was violently repelled as if thrown off by magic hands.

Nic tried with Veru, and the same thing happened. They tried again with the same results.

As they laid in the snow, Veru and Stacia switched, each heading to the other man. This time Danik was a bit more reluctant to try, but when Veru nudged his boot, he got up. He stuck a foot in a stirrup and swung his leg over, settling successfully into the golden saddle. Nik frowned and hurriedly did the same with Stacia.

Still moody, Nik dug his heels into Stacia’s sides, earning him an irritated growl from the big cat. She headed over to her sister regardless. “Now remember to stay close to us. You’ll have to lead since you know the direction of the town.”

“That’s if I can find it in this mess.”

“Let’s pray you do. Or even this miracle might not save us.”

With that, Veru and Stacia began to run, picking up speed and stretching their legs. The men bent over their bodies, trying to shield their faces from the stinging snow and ice.

Though Nik could tell Danik was communicating directions to Veru by bending close enough to her ear so she could hear his voice, to him it looked like the murmuring of a lover, and it chafed him worse than the leather saddle beneath him.

Hour after grueling hour, they pressed on, and then somehow, through the ice and snow and awful dark of night, Nik spotted a light, then two, and three, and suddenly, before him was a surprisingly welcome and familiar sight. Even though Nik had never been back to a church again since that Christmastide service so very long ago, knowing he had nothing to believe in and could never trust anyone again, there was something about seeing those soaring onion domes, belfries, and chapels that promised warmth and safety that made him desperately wish he was wrong.