Chapter 11
11
KATERINA
H er mare reared, letting out an unearthly cry. She struggled to hold on to the reins, but it was no use. Mika bolted from beneath her, fleeing, and Katerina fell to the ground with a thud that rattled her bones.
Her Shadow. Where was Niko?
She couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t see him. In fact, she couldn’t see anything. This wasn’t normal darkness, but rather Darkness —the sense that all Light had gone from the world. It was the pitch-black of the abyss.
She reached for her bond with her Shadow, and felt…nothing. There was a gaping hole where Niko should be. A bolt of horror ripped through her, and she fought to gain her feet. “Niko!” she howled. “To me!”
He didn’t answer her.
She opened her mouth to call for him again, but agonizing pain doubled her over, searing through every nerve ending. It was like being stabbed with a million blades, spiked with lightning…except the lightning was ice-cold.
Katerina clutched her chest. Had someone—something—severed their bond? Such a thing shouldn’t be possible, unless…
Was he dead? Had someone killed her Shadow, before she’d ever had the chance to tell him what was in her heart?
Her agony retreated into numbness. A sense of utter terror and hopelessness consumed her, weighing her down. Nothing was right, nothing would ever be right again…
Once, when Katerina was very small, she’d fallen into a snowbank. The snow had closed over her head, surrounding her. When she’d opened her mouth to scream, it had found its way inside, taking the place of her words. It had pressed her down, squeezing her lungs, stealing her breath, freezing her magic. Her Dimi mother had found her less than a minute later, melting the snow and setting Katerina free, but Katerina had never forgotten what it had been like to be trapped that way, inside an icy fortress that wanted only to keep her for its own.
This was like that: an ice-cold weight, pinning her to the ground, invading every part of her. She couldn’t see. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. When she reached for her magic, there was only…emptiness.
For an instant, an eternity, she lay crumpled on the path in the dark. And then a gleam appeared in the gloom—a tiny light, growing stronger the longer she looked.
The amulet at her neck that held Niko’s blood seared red-hot, scorching her. Her Shadow bond sparked to life just as a blaze illuminated the darkened woods.
Niko stood on the path, burning like the Lightbringer she’d always teasingly called him. A glow encased him, emanating from the blessed blade he held in his hand. She had never seen him look like that—a living embodiment of the Light to which he and Katerina were consecrated. For years, she’d thought of him as bringing her out of the metaphorical darkness that had lurked inside her ever since her mother’s death, but in this moment, she wondered if her assessment had been more accurate than she’d ever realized. The illumination spread from him in ever- increasing circles, until at last it touched the place where Katerina lay.
That awful sensation of being encased in ice retreated, taking the unbearable hopelessness with it. She ran for Niko, claiming her place by his side, as his Light chased the last of the unnatural gloom away and then faded, her Shadow assuming his normal form once more.
The world was as it had been before the Darkness had descended upon them: road and moon and forest. But both of their horses had fled. And emerging from the woods on all sides, surrounding Niko and Katerina, was the biggest horde of Grigori demons she had ever seen. Normally, they wandered as rogues or attacked in packs, commanded by one of their filthy brethren, but this was no pack. This was an army.
They looked like people; they always did. Only their characteristic rosemary-and-clove scent, meant to entice humans to them, gave them away—and with them en masse like this, it poured off them, permeating the air. Next to her, Niko choked on it.
In human form, her Shadow could meet his death at the hands of a blade bathed in Grigori venom or from a demon’s venom-coated bite. And there were so many of them here, encroaching nearer, closing the circle. Clad all in black, poisoned blades and bared teeth glinting under the light of the waxing moon.
Niko was right: they should have turned back. Damn her stupid pride, her insistence that they press onward. They were alone here, without the aid of a rowan-fire or the fellow Shadows and Dimis who always fought alongside them. It was just the two of them, and a host of demons determined to see them die.
There was no time to wonder why the Grigori were here in such force, on a lonely road far from Drezna. Whether she and Niko were their deliberate prey, or whether encountering the two of them was coincidence, en route to whatever the Grigori were really after. There was nothing to do but fight. To defeat the demons, or die trying.
Katerina prayed to Sant Antoniya, Sant Andrei, and Sant Viktoriya for strength. She called her magic, feeling it rise from the earth, filling her like she were a vessel and it a thick, syrupy liquid. “Stand by my side, my Shadow,” she said.
“Always,” he answered her.
And then the demons were on them.
Niko stood his ground, blessed blades in hand, spinning like a whirl of light, slicing through one Grigori after another before they could reach her. The Grigori howled as they fell, the sickly-sweet scent of their blood scorching her lungs and soaking the air. But there were always more.
Desperately, Katerina sent her sixth sense out, searching the woods. Her magic curled around one rowan after another, uprooting them and sending them hurtling into the fray, piercing the demons’ hearts. A thought, and she set the trees aflame. The fires consumed the Grigori’s corpses, and as others charged toward her, their flesh and clothing caught as well. They melted before her eyes, and their voices filled her mind, fraught with agony: Vengeance upon you, cursed Dimi. May Gadreel seek his revenge on your body and your soul.
Gadreel. The Fallen Angel of War himself, a king among Grigori and one of the first of the Fallen Watchers. The demon who had schooled humankind in the art of weaponry and killing blows. Helper of God, before he and the rest of the Grigori had fallen to the Dark.
Katerina had no time to consider why Gadreel’s army was loose upon this road, nor what it might mean to be the target of his vengeance. She stood, feet planted, hands outstretched, and called the wind. It rose to her bidding, driving the Grigori back. But there were so many of them, and they bent themselves against it and just kept coming. One of them broke ranks and charged Niko, a blade in each hand. They flashed in the moonlight as the demon raised an arm high, meaning to take him through the heart.
She screamed, a howl so loud it scraped her throat. Magic exploded from her, harnessing the wind and blasting the demon backward. It flew through the air and tumbled into the flames. But there were five more right behind it.
They came for her, ignoring Niko this time. She pulled on the earth itself, tearing it up in front of them, tree roots catching at their legs, entangling them. One fell. Two. But the rest?—
Beside her, Niko’s body shimmered. A moment later, his blades clattered to the ground and a growl shook the forest. In the form of his black dog, he leapt, knocking the demons away from her. Snarling, he ripped out the throat of the closest one, coughing in disgust as blood poured from his mouth and drenched the ground.
You will never touch her. His voice echoed inside her head, the way it always did when he was in the shape of his black dog. She belongs to the Light, Grigori filth.
Another demon fell beneath his teeth and claws. Blood spattered Katerina as she ripped tree after tree from the ground, impaling the Grigori and lighting them aflame. She spun in a circle, igniting the rowans at the treeline, burning the demons who snarled in pain as they fought to get through. She incinerated them where they stood, but there were still more and more?—
And then one of them was on her, slicing at her with its blades. She twisted, fighting to escape, but it was no use. A knife sank deep into her thigh, and the demon howled in triumph. Its fellows echoed it, and Niko raised his head, eyes catching hers in horror.
He ran for her, dropping the demon in his jaws to the ground like a ragdoll, but there were more of them now, descending on her, and she could barely see him?—
No, his mind-voice said, tight with terror. No! Katerina, fight!
She thrashed and struggled, heating her body with witchfire from within as the demons tore at her clothes. They wailed in pain as it scorched them, but didn’t let go. The Darkness sucked at her, as eager to devour her soul as the demons were to pierce her body, to claim her for their own. They were servants of the Dark, and the Dark was hungry.
Katerina rolled left, then right, dragging the demons with her. She couldn’t light them aflame, not when they were on top of her. But if she could drive them backward, into the fire…
Bit by painful bit, she pulled herself toward the flames. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Niko battling two Grigori, still in the form of his dog. He tore the entrails from one of them, but the other sliced at him, and no matter how he dodged and weaved, he couldn’t get free.
Katerina!
The fear in Niko’s voice almost undid her. Not for himself, she knew. For her.
She refused to die here. Not like this, and have him believe he’d failed her.
Katerina reached deep, deep into the well of her magic. She had never reached so far before, didn’t know what cost she would pay. But whatever it was, she would pay it, and gladly.
Sant Antoniya, help me now, she prayed. Give me your strength, lend me your Light.
Power burst from her, buckling the very earth. A flash of illumination turned the road and forest bright as day as the wind rose still higher, driving every Grigori back, ripping those who had hold of her away. The demons shrieked, an ear-splitting sound that made the air quake.
And then, every single one of them burst into flame.
Katerina propped herself on her elbows, panting, as the demons burned, taking the forest with them. Her leg ached where the Grigori had stabbed her. Their venom wouldn’t affect her as it did Niko—just as a Shadow’s bite could take down a Grigori, so a demon’s venom could fell a Shadow—but even still, it hurt like hell. She pressed her palm against the wound, staunching the flow of blood, as Niko knelt by her side, half-clad and in human form once more.
Dirt and blood streaked his face. His eyes were wide with shock and…something else. Wonder, maybe. “Katya,” he said, his voice hoarse. Taking his shirt from the ground where it had fallen when he shifted, he tore a piece of fabric from the bottom and set to binding her wound. She grunted as he pulled the tourniquet tight. “Talk to me. Is this the only place—are you hurt?—”
He fumbled at her shirt, trying to lift it, and she shoved his hands away. “I’m all right. But Niko, did they stab you?”
She didn’t know what she would do if he said yes. They were alone here, stranded between Rivki and Drezna, and Grigori venom was fast-acting. Katerina was trained in the art of healing, as all Dimis were, but the antivenin was in her saddlebag, and the horses had run off?—
But he shook his head. “Grazes while I was in the form of my dog, nothing more. See.” He raised his arms, showing her the defensive wounds there, doubtless acquired as he fought to protect his muzzle. “But you…Katerina, what did you do…?”
Together, they regarded the destruction she’d wrought. The road was buckled and broken, littered with the corpses of charred Grigori and burning tree limbs. Though they sat, untouched, in Katerina’s circle, all around them, the woods burned.
“Protected you,” she said, simply. “Saved myself.”
That look of wonder was still there in his eyes, and something else, too. Fear, perhaps. “You’ve never done anything like this before, against so many. I didn’t know you could.”
The idea that Niko might fear her sent a spike of dismay through Katerina’s heart. It made her voice tight as she said, struggling to sit all the way up, “Says the one who blazed with more Light than I’ve ever seen. Desperate times, my Shadow. Would you rather we died here, on a lonely road, at the hands of demons?”
He regarded her, his expression cross. “Of course not. And quit that, you’ll make it worse. Here, lean on me.” He pulled her back against his chest, his long legs encircling hers, careful not to touch the wounded one. “I just—what if you hadn’t been able to do that, Katya? I couldn’t reach you, I couldn’t get to you…”
The pain in his voice pierced her. She twisted, looking up at him. His eyes were haunted as he gazed at the ruins of the path to Drezna. “You didn’t have to. You shoulder too much, Niko.”
His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. She knew it was the simple protective instinct that a Shadow held for his Dimi, especially given the terrible danger they’d just faced. It was her fault, her flaw that she couldn’t help but wish for more.
Niko had wanted them to turn around. He’d warned her, again and again, and she’d been too stubborn and headstrong to listen. Too convinced that she could handle whatever came.
Because of Katerina’s arrogance, her Shadow could have been killed.
Guilt festering inside her, she peeled his arms away. “Help me up. Enough wallowing. They’re dead, but who knows if there are more? I’m not waiting on this cursed road like a sitting duck for them to find me.”
Without comment, Niko lifted her, setting her upright. He inspected her, assessing the wince she couldn’t suppress when her injured leg took her weight.
“You need a healer,” he said. “Don’t try to argue. And don’t try to walk. Maybe you can ride home like that, Katya, but you’re not stumbling on that leg all the way to Drezna. I can’t believe I let the bastards close enough to touch you. Grigori scum,” he growled, and spat on the body that lay at their feet.
Katerina forced a smile. “What’s the alternative? Our horses are gone. And I don’t intend to camp on the road amongst the corpses of our enemies.”
Niko didn’t smile back. He glared at her, scanning every inch of her body, and she fought not to quail beneath the uncharacteristic wrath in his gaze. “I don’t intend for that to happen either, Katya. I’m going to pick you up. Tell me if I hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” Katerina insisted, gritting her teeth against the pain in her leg. “Really, Niko, I’m okay. There’s no need for?—”
Ignoring her protests, he swept her up and carried her down the path toward Drezna, his arms tight around her. Despite her discomfort, Katerina couldn’t help but notice how warm his body was, how right it felt to have him hold her this way. Surrendering, she rested her head against his shoulder. She breathed in his familiar scent of mint and the oil he used to feed his blades, blended now with the sickly-sweet aroma of Grigori blood. It was better than the reek of the rowan-fires and the nasty stench of roasting demon.
An overpowering sense of dread at what they might find when they arrived on Drezna’s doorstep simmered inside her. What if the demons had somehow penetrated its defenses? What if they’d hurt the people who called the village home?
She had never seen anything like this army of demons, three nights before the Bone Moon grew full. Why had the Fallen Angel of War, more of a myth than a true threat, set his sights on Drezna? Could Katerina’s feelings for her Shadow have set the prophecy in motion? Could this somehow be her fault?
Niko’s expression was grim, his jaw tight as he strode down the road. His heart thumped against her, as steady as his footfalls on the packed dirt. Closing her eyes, she imagined arriving in Drezna: the warm welcome they’d receive from Baba Volkova, the comforting knowledge that their friends were safe—especially Tanya and Alexandr, who they often spent time with on the way home from delivering the tithe. Soon the apple trees would be blooming in Kalach; farther to the west, Drezna’s trees bloomed even sooner. She imagined wandering in the village orchard as she and Niko had done in Kalach when they were children, picking the red-blushed fruit to make the cinnamon-apple pies that were her Shadow’s favorite.
A decade ago, Katerina had brought Niko a basket of those pies as he sat by his mother’s grave, and kept him company as he ate them one by one, mechanically, as if they were made of sawdust. When he finished, he lay down with his head in her lap, watching the sun set over the stones of Kalach’s small cemetery. “I wish I’d been enough,” he’d said, as she’d run her fingers through his hair. “Enough to make her stay.”
Katerina had lost her mother and father years before, in a demon raid. She knew, better than most, what it was like to feel alone and adrift. The idea of Niko feeling that way had broken her heart.
“You are enough,” she’d told him fiercely. “You will always be enough for me.”
He was enough, still. He had saved them both, tonight. That awful moment when she thought she’d lost him forever…her first thought had not been worry for herself, or fear of what might come boiling out of the woods to attack her in the Dark. But terror of losing him—not because he was her Shadow, but because of all he meant to her.
In almost every memory she had, Niko was by her side. It was a wondrous and terrible thing.
“Katerina,” her Shadow said, breaking the silence. “Look.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and opened her eyes. And then she sucked in her breath.
So close to the spring solstice, they wouldn’t see another frost until the coming year. Yet the earth was blanched. The tender shoots of grass that grew along the path and the leaves of the evergreens that flanked it were lined with crystals of ice. It shone in the glow of the moon, reflecting the light with an eerie, unnatural glint.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. As far as they could see, the bodies of deer and wolves and squirrels were strewn across the road toward Drezna. Blood seeped from them, frozen into icy pools.
Katerina had seen a lot of things in her twenty-one years. But she’d never seen anything like this.
She looked for their horses among the fallen—Mika, who’d carried her uncomplainingly for miles, and Troitze, as fierce and wild as Niko himself. She didn’t see them, thank the Saints. They had escaped whatever scourge came this way.
But the corpses were fresh, not even stiffening.
A chill ran through Katerina, and she looked back the way they’d come. In one direction, the fallen Grigori lined the road. In the other, these beasts lay dead.
The frost, on this part of the road only. The road that led to Drezna.
The dead animals.
The demons, more powerful and numerous than any she’d seen before, emerging from the woods.
A sudden, awful thought struck her. “Niko,” she said, “I don’t smell the fires.” Normally, at this distance, the scent of the omnipresent rowan-fires that burned at the perimeter of every village would fill the air. But there was nothing here other than the lingering scent of Grigori venom and the faint hint of animal blood.
He raised his face, inhaling. “Nor do I. But I smell Grigori, Katerina.”
“That’s us,” she said, trying to strike a desperate bargain with the Fates. “We were just surrounded by a horde of them.”
“No.” Niko’s nostrils flared as he breathed deeply once again, making sure there could be no mistake. “This is airborne scent, not the scent we carry. They were here before us. They came this way.”
His words echoed her worst fears. “Then?—”
“We didn’t outpace the demons,” he said, horror clear in each syllable. “We’re retracing their steps.”
Then he was running, Katerina clutched tight in his arms, leaping over the bodies of the fallen beasts as only a trained Shadow could. The path widened, the way it always did when they arrived in Drezna. But the warmth of the fires didn’t burn to greet them, nor did a Shadow stand sentinel at the gates. Here, all was quiet and dark.
“Niko,” Katerina said, her voice breaking.
“I know.” He shifted her weight, lifting a hand to smooth her hair back from her face. “Something bad happened here, Katya.”
Dizziness swept Katerina as they followed the road that led to the heart of the village. The gardens that hugged it were bled by that same frost, their nascent plants lying limp and dead. She caught sight of the apple orchard, the tree limbs blackened and peeling beneath a layer of ice. Nothing moved on the path or in the fields.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone here?”
But no one answered her call. Not so much as a dog came trotting out to meet them.
A village would never leave itself unprotected this way. Shadows rotated on constant patrol each night, especially so close to the Bone Moon. No one could simply walk into Drezna, not in these times.
They passed Baba Volkova’s cottage. The door hung open, a gaping maw. When Niko peered inside, the place was empty. But in the hearth, a fire still blazed.
A chill ran through Katerina again. With him holding her like this, they were vulnerable. “Put me down,” she said. “I may not be able to fight, but I can still use my magic.”
Without a word, he set her on her feet and put an arm around her, supporting her. She limped by his side as they made their way toward the heart of Drezna, where the marketplace and the artisans’ shops hugged the town square. At night, they’d be locked up tight, but most merchants slept above their places of business. Surely someone would come out if Niko and Katerina called.
“They must be hiding,” she said, unable to conceal the note of hope in her voice. “Maybe they’re afraid. They’ll see we’re here to help them, and they’ll?—”
Her Shadow had never lied to her. He didn’t start now. Instead, he took more of her weight as they walked the last few steps, emerging from the path that wound past the field where children had played the last time they visited, chasing each other in an age-old game of catch-the-demon. Now, it was deserted and sheathed in ice, the blades of grass shriveled and the stems of the yellow-wreathed preteska snapped.
Clouds scudded over the face of the moon as they left the field behind and stepped onto the cobblestones. She took one step, two. And then Niko jerked her back with such force that she almost tumbled to the ground. A growl rumbled from his throat, low and threatening.
“What—” she began indignantly. But then she saw for herself what his keener Shadow vision had noticed at once.
The two of them stood at the verge of a precipice. Another step, and Katerina would have tumbled into it. Where the bustling village center used to be, there was nothing but a crater—as if everything that once stood there had been sucked into the earth.
It was impossible. It was also true.
The village of Drezna was gone.