Chapter 8 #2
He placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed. “You never need to hide the truth from me. I’d never use pain or hunger or any other thing you might perceive as weakness against you. I only want to help. Do you believe me?”
Danik’s blue eyes locked on to her face, searching for something. It was as if he was seeking desperately for acceptance or understanding or . . . perhaps it was still a home—a place where he was known, where he could be himself, feel safe and at complete ease.
Veru had to admit she also craved such a place.
She hadn’t felt like she’d had that sense of security for many years.
Her mother tried her best, but without their father, the palace never felt the same.
He was their anchor, and they’d been adrift as a family ever since his loss.
Danik must have been going through the same thing.
But his situation was even worse. He’d lost his entire family. At least she still had Stacia.
“I believe you, Danik,” Veru promised. “Look, I know I can be a little . . . off-putting. But you don’t need to hide from me either.
Even if your memory is gone, and you ask me the same question over and over and I lose patience and snarl at you, I’ll still answer.
I can’t promise that I won’t threaten to gut you at some point in irritation, but I can guarantee that I’m your friend too.
And Verusha Stepanov defends her friends to the death. ”
“Now that, I believe,” Danik said with a wink and a half grin.
He held out his hands, offering to help her to her feet, and she was surprised with herself when she accepted and leaned against him, hobbling along, uncaring that she was not only depending on a man but showing weakness.
It was a move she might have feigned once upon a time to get a man to spill state secrets.
Instead of despising herself for it, she let herself enjoy leaning on someone else for a change.
Then, after a while, she began to like the way his muscular arm wrapped around her back, his hand clutching her waist. As they walked, she almost forgot the pain; instead, she focused on the warmth of his body pressed next to her own and the deep timbre of his voice as he hummed a tune in time with the rushing water nearby.
Veru was astonished to note how time passed as late morning became late afternoon, so wrapped up was she in the physical sensations of her body that she’d so long denied.
She didn’t even think of stopping until her stomach rumbled.
Danik had only given her some berries that he’d found along the way, opting to walk as far as they could while she felt able, before resting to make camp.
She was about to suggest they find a good spot for the night when they spotted a crooked little house on a craggy rock overlooking the river.
A small column of gray smoke spiraled up from the stone chimney.
“Perhaps they’d welcome two traveling strangers,” Danik suggested.
“Maybe,” Veru said. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to ask.”
“We’ll say we’re traveling musicians. People are often willing to put up groups such as that.”
“But I’m not a musician,” Veru said.
“That’s fine. You can pose as my sister.”
“A sister would be trained as a musician. What if they ask us to play?”
“That’s true. Perhaps . . . a cousin, then.”
“A cousin would need a chaperone.”
Danik pursed his lips, obviously thinking hard.
Veru shook his arm. “I’ll be your wife, Danik. No one can complain about that.”
“But—but you’d have a ring.”
“We’ll say we’ve sold it. We’re obviously very poor.”
Danik rubbed his jaw and frowned. “I suppose it would explain why you don’t have decent shoes. And why your dress is ripped.” His expression suddenly brightened. “Wait a moment. Are we married, and I just forgot? You’d think I’d remember a thing like that.”
“No. We aren’t married. I’m the tsarevna, and you’re taking me home. Remember?”
“Right. That sounds right.” He nodded with certainty. “We’re married and headed home.”
“Close enough.”
“But you can’t sing?”
“Not a note.” She took hold of his arm again. “Shall we, then?”
“I think we should.”
There was a little path that led up to the cottage, but Veru’s feet were really hurting by that point. She slipped on the gravel and nearly fell, but Danik scooped her in his arms and carried her up to the door, only setting her down once they were safely on the porch.
A lock of his thick, dirty-blond hair fell over one blue eye, hiding it from view as he leaned down. His hands were still spanning her waist, bearing most of her weight.
Veru found herself mesmerized by his full lips and the soft golden stubble of a new beard surrounding them. Reaching up, she pushed the hair away from his face and traced a long, dark eyebrow with her thumb.
The expression of concern and tenderness didn’t change into something lustful, like she might’ve expected after a caress such as the one she’d just given him.
But if she wasn’t mistaken, there did seem to be a slight brightening of the blue in his eyes.
Instead of causing Veru alarm, it made her breath quicken.
Danik smiled at her and said, “Your feet always seem to get you in trouble, don’t they, little lapochka?”
Her mouth fell open, and she was just going to ask him if he was beginning to remember on his own, when the door behind them flew open.
Standing in the opening was a pale, thin woman with disheveled gray hair held back by a scarf. A thin blue film covered both her eyes, making Veru think she was blind, and yet her head moved back and forth between Veru and Danik as if she could see both of them clear as day.
The woman’s nose and lips were pinched and thin, though her nostrils were quite large, especially when she took in great gusts of air, as she seemed to do often. Between her spindly legs wound a gray cat with eyes so green and bright they seemed to glow.
“Kto tam prishеl, Maxsim, eh?” Reaching down, she stroked her cat’s head with long, bony fingers. The cat dug its head into her hand and turned to look at Veru. Peering at her closely, it narrowed its eyes, then hissed and spat before darting back into the darkness of the cottage.
“Max!” the woman cried. “That’s no way to treat our guests. Silly beast. No matter. Privet. You can call me Yuga. Did someone send you, or did you find my little hut of your own accord?”
“Greetings, Babushka,” Danik said. “My wife and I came across your cottage on our own.”
“Otlichno! Good! That is excellent. You two are most welcome. Newly married, are you?”
“We are,” Veru replied.
“I knew it,” the old woman said, reaching out to clasp Veru’s hands.
She missed, but Veru purposely touched her hands to the woman’s fingertips and found them very cold—almost icy, in fact.
When Yuga clasped them quickly, Veru was shocked to find her grip so strong.
She was also confused to see the woman bring her hands close to her face and inhale deeply as if trying to catch her scent.
Veru watched the woman carefully, knowing there was much more to the old lady than there seemed to be on the surface.
Danik, however, appeared to already trust the woman completely.
“If you have room, might my wife and I perhaps stay over for the night and share a meal? In exchange, I can offer a strong arm to chop wood or my skills as a hunter, or perhaps a bit of music to pass the long, dark hours. I’m a traveling musician by trade. ”
“Are you, then?” the woman said, never releasing Veru’s hands or turning her rheumy gaze upon Danik.
“My, my. You’ve made quite a catch, haven’t you, my dear?
A youth pretty of face who hunts, hauls, and sings to you by night.
Hmm . . . yes. That would be quite lovely, young man.
It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a song.
Please, come inside and warm yourselves by my small fire. ”
When Veru hesitated at the threshold, Danik took her hand and said, “Are you coming in, my—my dear?”
Veru thought she saw the woman’s eyes gleam in the darkness of the cottage.
Her instinct told her something was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what it could be that was throwing her alarms. She’d always trusted her gut in the past, but everything in this dreamworld felt .
. . upside down. For the first time in forever, she felt out of control.
It was as if she hung on the side of a cliff, and there was no way for her to save herself.
Then she remembered the advice Kadam had given her before he disappeared.
He’d said her strongest weapons would be her mind and her friends.
Never in her life had she put her complete trust in a man before.
Not even Nik. To do so now, when Danik could barely even recall his own name, seemed like the height of foolishness, but .
. . she also knew that this dreamworld was a test. Perhaps this was a part of it.
Squeezing Danik’s hand, she whispered, “Do you feel that this is safe?”
He stepped closer to her and cupped her shoulder. “You are wise to ask,” he murmured softly.
Before she could stop him, Danik called out loudly, “Babushka? My dear wife is worried over our safety. You and your cat aren’t planning anything nefarious regarding our persons while we are in residence, are you?”
The cackle that ensued lifted the fine hairs on the back of Veru’s neck, arms, and legs.
It was throaty, full of phlegm, and somehow contained a combination of delight and wickedness.
All Veru wanted to do was turn her back to the place and never return.
In fact, she shivered, took hold of Danik’s hand, and tugged, intending to back out of the cottage slowly.
But when she glanced behind her, the river was gone. In fact, the landscape was moving.
Veru wondered how she hadn’t been aware of the movement.
She was still standing on the porch, or at least halfway on the porch and halfway inside the cottage.
But either the cottage was spinning, or the world was turning.
Whichever one it was, it was a bad sign, a very bad sign.
Just at that moment, the little house shifted, lurching suddenly to the right, and Veru stumbled into Danik.
He caught her easily enough and braced himself against a table so they wouldn’t fall.
There was a plaintive meow from Maxsim, the cat who’d been hiding beneath it, then the house tilted once again, this time to the left, and Veru and Danik found themselves jostling to the other side of the room.
The old woman called out to them, “The house will keep doing that until you make up your minds. Are you staying or going?”
Veru knew she definitely, surely, absolutely didn’t want to stay, but before she could announce that decision to anyone, Danik proclaimed loudly, “Yuga, we’re staying.”
At that, the door behind them slammed with a definitive bang, while the house seemed to drop suddenly, as if it had fallen several lengths to the ground.
Both Danik and Veru lost their footing and tumbled into a heap together as Maxsim the cat bound quickly over their fallen forms to settle himself in his seated mistress’s lap.
“There,” Yuga said, stroking her green-eyed feline. “Now that that’s been decided, how about that song?”