Fate and Fury

Chapter 19

19

KATERINA

T he morning that would change Katerina’s life yet again began like any other: with her averting her eyes from Niko as the two of them readied themselves for the day. She did her best to ignore the broad stretch of his shoulders beneath his linen shirt and the grace with which he slid his blades into their holster before striding out the door. And then she braided her hair in preparation for training and stomped after him, sticking her tongue out at his back. He had no business looking so irresistible. Nor being so cool and collected when she was burning up inside.

Her leg was healed now; Baba Petrova’s herbs and charms had worked their magic. Still, she felt undone, off-kilter. It was Niko’s fault, Saints damn him. He was right there, but she missed him. Missed having him the way they’d been together in the elderflower clearing three nights ago, hearing him whisper that he wanted her more than his next breath.

She’d said, Just this once, and by honoring it, he’d only done what she’d asked. But then why did she want to shake him, right before she pinned him to the wall of her cottage and took his stupid mouth with hers?

Ana was waiting at the bottom of the walkway, Alexei beside her. Niko fell into step with him as her friend looked Katerina up and down, her wide mouth rising in a sardonic grin. “In a good mood this morning, I see.”

Raising an eyebrow, Katerina summoned a hint of wind and pushed Ana back a step. “Does it show?”

Ana shoved a warning hint of heat back in Katerina’s direction, making Katerina give a genuine smile. It was good to be among other Dimis, to remind herself of who she was and where her priorities lay.

“Just a tad,” Ana said, holding her fingers apart an inch or so. “I mean, you seem a little more annoyed with the world than usual. As for your Shadow”—she gestured at Niko—“you’d think he’d be a bit more cheerful after his engagement to Sant Viktoriya herself. But there he is, looking as uptight as he’s been since you came home from the Trials.”

Katerina and Niko hadn’t so much as exchanged an inappropriate glance since the night of the Bone Moon. They’d never even spoken of what had transpired between them. Still, hearing Ana mention her Shadow’s engagement to the Vila cut like a knife.

“He’s not uptight,” she snapped. “You weren’t there when the Grigori swarmed out of the woods. You didn’t see the crater that devoured Drezna. What if whatever it is comes for us next?”

Ana shot her an apologetic look as they stepped onto the path that led to the outdoor arena by the river where the Shadows and Dimis trained together—the easier to summon water and put out fires. “You’re right, Katerina. I was just…joking. Trying to make light, in these dark times. But I shouldn’t have?—”

Her words trailed off as, in front of them on the path, Niko froze, and Alexei followed suit. “What’s wrong?” Katerina said, straining to see, but her Shadow blocked her way.

“There’s someone here,” he said, his tone terse. “I can smell them. Someone who doesn’t belong. Not Grigori, but…three strangers. And their mounts.”

Katerina smelled nothing, heard nothing. But if Niko said there were strangers here, she trusted him. Her magic hummed beneath her skin, ready for battle.

“Alexei?” Ana said, the teasing cadence gone from her voice.

“I smell them, too,” her Shadow said, running a hand through his auburn hair and revealing the star-shaped brand that had manifested after he bonded with Ana. “Human, like Niko said. Not Dimi or Shadow.”

Without a word, Ana moved up to flank Alexei, and Katerina did the same for Niko. They made their way down the path, following the Shadows’ unerring sense of smell. Twenty yards later, a man’s arrogant voice split the air, demanding to speak to Baba Petrova. Then he barked Katerina’s name, in a tone of clear command.

Next to her, Niko flinched. He turned and looked at her full-on, for the first time since that night in the woods. “Katya,” he said, the word heavy with all she had been dreading.

Whoever had come to Kalach, they had come for her.

Ana was staring at her, dark eyes wide, and Katerina set her shoulders, refusing to show fear. “No point in dawdling. Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting for me, after all.”

She lengthened her stride, stepping in front of Ana and Alexei. Making a disapproving noise low in his throat, Niko nonetheless did the same, so that he stalked alongside her, one hand resting easily on the hilt of his favored blade. “Katya,” he said quietly, so that Alexei and Ana wouldn’t hear. “Whatever they want, state your terms in response. I’ll not let them take you—or us—against your will.”

Katerina gave a sharp nod. She’d hoped she would have more time before a summons came. But clearly she’d been deluding herself.

The path opened up into the village square, revealing three men clad in the gold-trimmed garments that marked them as the Kniaz’s favored squires. They sat atop horses that were finer than any in Kalach—a golden palomino, an onyx stallion, a blue-speckled, muscled roan. The men were equally impressive: bearded and broad, with an unyielding set to their shoulders that indicated they were used to getting what they wanted. Before them stood Baba Petrova and the five village Elders.

A crowd of villagers gathered at the edge of the square, murmuring in confusion and alarm. And to their right, with the Vila not on child-minding duty this morning, stood Elena and her closest friend, Alyona.

The Vila’s eyes went at once to Niko, as if to assure herself that he was all right. But Niko didn’t notice. His attention was fixed on the men on horseback. A deep, subterranean growl rumbled in his chest.

“Where is the Dimi you call Katerina Ivanova?” the man on the palomino said, his tone imperious. He must be their leader, she thought, his beard woven with the red-and-purple ribbons that denoted his higher rank. “I won’t ask again.”

Next to Katerina, Niko snarled. “He cannot call you like a dog!”

Katerina refrained from remarking on the irony of this statement. She strode forward, shoulders back and head high. “I’m right here,” she said, her voice ringing out in the cool spring air. “Cease harassing the citizens of Kalach and state your business.”

She didn’t dare look at Niko, but next to her, she could sense the amusement baking off of him. Well, let him be amused, then. She had no intention of bowing to these men’s wishes, no matter how fine their garments or how demanding their tone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lara, a fellow Dimi, and Ilya, her Shadow, heading Katerina’s way, closing ranks with her and Niko. Joining them were Svetlana and Luka, a Dimi and Shadow pair beside whom Katerina and Niko had fought many times. On their heels came the other seventeen Dimi and Shadow pairings that were of age to fight. The three unbonded Shadows who had lost their Dimis in battle—Valentin, Pyotr, and Mikhail—accompanied them.

Niko gave a low hum of approval in reaction to the welcome presence of his black dog’s pack. But Katerina didn’t feel soothed. If these men were here for her, then all the other Shadows and Dimis in the world would do her no good. Their gesture was symbolic, nothing more—for if Katerina intended to kill these men, she could do so easily, calling fire to her hand and unleashing it upon them. No, this was a matter of politics. She could not harm these men without bringing down the Kniaz’s wrath upon Kalach.

“Our business ,” the leader said, imbuing the word with scorn. “Why, our business is you, Dimi Ivanova. I thought I made that clear.”

The insolence in his voice was unmistakable, and Niko growled louder, a hair-raising, threatening sound. He bared his teeth at the man, and next to him, Alexei tensed in solidarity.

“Niko,” Katerina said quietly. “Hold.”

“He cannot speak that way to you!”

“No,” she said, stepping forward, away from her Shadow and their friends. “He cannot.”

Perhaps she would have restrained herself, had it not been for the expression on Elena’s face: lovestruck, as if seeing Niko’s protective Shadow nature rise to the surface was a gift just for her. As if she were imagining what it would be like for him to protect her, not Katerina. As if all her dreams were coming true at last.

She had no right to take her anger out on Elena; the Vila was betrothed to Niko, after all. But the arrogant man who had spoken to her as if she were his vassal was another story.

At the Trials, she’d had to hide what she was capable of. But after what had happened on the road to Drezna, there was no hiding anymore. And if she didn’t have to conceal what she was, then by the Saints, she would use it to her advantage.

Letting an unpleasant smile lift her lips, she sent her magic out, heat curling through the space between her and the men on horseback. It gripped the leader by the back of the neck, scorching him, and his eyes went wide. “You—you dare…? Let me go!”

“I will,” Katerina said calmly, the smile widening, “as soon as you address me with the respect I deserve.”

Behind her, Ana snickered. Baba Petrova, far less amused, said, “Katerina! Think about what you’re doing, for once in your life. Think about who these men are. Who they represent.”

“I know well who they represent.” Katerina tightened the grip of her magic, and had the satisfaction of watching the man squirm. His mouth fell open, and a gasp of pain escaped him. “But I don’t bend the knee for vassals. Address me with respect, servant of the Kniaz. Or ride back the way you’ve come, empty-handed.”

Baba Petrova raised her hands to her face, presumably to hide her dismay at Katerina’s attitude. But before those gnarled hands hid her expression, Katerina could have sworn she detected the slightest glimpse of pride.

Next to her, Niko’s growl had tempered into a deep-throated chuckle. “You heard the lady,” he said. “What will it be?”

The man scowled, red-faced and furious. Sighing, Katerina summoned the wind and commanded it to shake him, like a kitten in the grip of an angry beast. His horse shifted under him uneasily, and behind him, the two men who accompanied him looked as if they would like nothing more than to flee. Katerina couldn’t blame them.

“Dimi Ivanova!” Elder Dykstrova snapped. “Leave off toying with him. You’ve made your point.”

“Fine,” Katerina said, and lifted a lazy hand. The wind died down immediately, and the heat retreated. “Feel better?” she said as the man’s body stilled.

He shot her a furious glance, then opened and closed his mouth twice before he spoke. He looked, Katerina thought, like one of the giant goldfish she’d seen in the moat that surrounded the Kniaz’s castle. “How dare you?” he snarled again when he got his breath.

She rolled her eyes. “You disrespected me. I showed you your place. You’re not the Kniaz, to whom I owe fealty; you’re merely one of his emissaries. So speak, already. This is growing tiresome.”

“I had every intention of speaking, before you used your…your…” He flapped an ineffectual hand in her direction, and she fought the urge to laugh. Her amusement must have shown on her face, because the man’s cheeks reddened. When he spoke, his voice was tight, each syllable clipped.

“I am Andrei Borodin, lieutenant of the Velikii Kniaz, nobleman of Iriska. These are my companions, also employed in His Grace’s service.” He gestured at the other two men.

“When the Dimi Nadia Dobrow and her Shadow paid a visit to Rivki on their way to the Magiya, to reveal what had transpired and to ask for aid, it was…quite revelatory. Imagine the Kniaz’s surprise to discover that you and your Shadow were responsible for defeating an army of Grigori single-handedly.” He raised his bushy eyebrows at Katerina, his gaze flicking behind her to Niko.

“We had no choice,” Katerina said, her voice flat. “They would have killed us.”

“Be that as it may.” He matched her tone. “Choice is one thing, Dimi Ivanova. Ability, another. When questioned, Dimi Dobrow informed us that your control of all four elements renders you capable of great things. The Kniaz is willing to forgive your deception, in this time of great need. He will pardon you and your Shadow, along with your Baba and your village.”

His lip curled as he gestured at the citizens of Kalach, so humble in appearance compared to the finery of Rivki’s denizens. But Katerina couldn’t care less about his contempt. At the knowledge that the Kniaz wouldn’t make them pay for keeping her secret, a weight lifted from her heart. Just as quickly, though, another took its place.

“If you’re not here to exact punishment,” she said slowly, “then what do you want?”

He folded his beefy arms across his chest. “Given the danger that is afoot, the Kniaz requires the best protection available. He demands that you and your Shadow ride back to Rivki with us at once.”

Katerina’s brain churned. Her stomach did the same, clenching until she feared she might eject the contents of last night’s stew onto the stones of the square. “Leave with you now? But it’s not—we still have a year until the second round of the Trials?—”

Andrei smirked, the satisfaction on his face unmistakable. “Not so brave now, are you? Come, witchchild. Pack what pitiful possessions you own. Have no fear; the Kniaz will supply you with satins and silks soon enough. Perhaps”—his gaze raked over Katerina—“he’ll want even more than that. He’s fond of spitfires, after all.”

Next to her, Niko snarled, the fury that emanated from him palpable. If he leapt to her defense now, it might trigger a violent altercation that could compromise Kalach. Worse still, it would show Andrei that she needed her Shadow to defend her honor. And Katerina was perfectly capable of speaking up for herself.

“Why is it,” she said, giving Andrei her most charming smile, “that unimaginative, petty little men would rather envision a powerful woman on her back than on the battlefield? Because I assure you, should the Kniaz value me for my fire, I would rather it be for the flames I can call to my hand than the passion I might ignite with my body.”

The villagers gasped, and Andrei’s knuckles whitened on his palomino’s reins. “You dare to call me unimaginative and petty?” he said, his lip curling. “You will pay for that, witchchild. As the Kniaz’s right hand, there is nothing little about the power I wield.” He drew himself up, one hand on his smallsword’s hilt. “Call me names here, if you like, in the heart of your sanctuary. You’ll leave this village soon enough. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

The growl in Niko’s chest rose to a roar that filled the square. Before Katerina could stop him, he lunged for Andrei, throwing him from his horse. Then the two of them were wrestling on the stones, Niko in human form but so enraged that the growls rattling from him sounded as if they were ripped from the throat of his black dog.

Andrei’s horse, unsettled by the commotion, reared again and again. Its hooves came down repeatedly on the stones, mere feet from Niko’s head. The two other emissaries had drawn their smallswords, but their gazes flickered back and forth between the battle on the stones and Katerina’s fellow Dimis, who had come to stand behind her in solidarity. Their Shadows growled as one, the menacing sound ricocheting off the wood-fronted shops that surrounded the square.

Katerina threw Baba Petrova and the Elders a desperate glance, but they simply stood there, faces impassive. For them to call a halt to this would demean Niko, to suggest he couldn’t defend himself, and by extension, Katerina. It would weaken her Shadow forever in the eyes of these men and the others that served the Kniaz. To keep his position as alpha—as a Shadow worthy of fighting by her side—he must triumph on his own.

But if Niko persisted—if he couldn’t stomach the insinuation that the Kniaz wanted…

It was an insult, to be sure. But would a Shadow typically react with such vehemence, if he didn’t have inappropriate feelings for his Dimi? If he hadn’t bedded her the night of his betrothal, told her he had loved her all his life?

What had he said that night in the clearing? When you told me that the Kniaz wanted you, it took every bit of my restraint not to hunt him down, nobleman or no .

It felt as if every eye in the square had fallen upon her, as if they were all staring. As if they could tell. As if they knew ? —

Niko was on top of Andrei now, his blade at the man’s throat. But the man was fighting viciously, struggling to draw his smallsword.

If this oaf damaged a hair on her Shadow’s head, she would kill him. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. And what would the villagers and the Kniaz’s remaining minions think then?

Her magic rose, called by her rage and frustration, and she let it come. The wind bent the birch trees as it swept toward her, and she lifted one hand, shaping it, directing it. Concentrating hard, she wrapped its cold fingers around Andrei, immobilizing his legs, then his torso, then his arms. She left his head alone; it was worth it to see his stunned expression when he realized he couldn’t move. His eyes darted back and forth, terrified, and his hand rose to his chest, struggling to make it rise and fall.

A satisfied smile lifted Katerina’s lips. He deserved this and more, for insulting her and threatening Niko. Let him suffer. Let him wonder at what a Dimi and her Shadow could do.

“You’re suffocating him,” Ana whispered from behind her. “If he dies here, Katerina, there will be trouble.”

With a sigh, Katerina lifted both hands and called the wind once more. It came, blasting Andrei through the air. He flew into the grove of birches, and she resisted the urge to slam him into a tree. Instead, she dropped him—very kindly, she thought, given the circumstances—into a clump of ferns next to the path. He fell with a thump and a crash, and didn’t move.

“You’ve killed him!” one of Andrei’s companions howled. “Make no mistake, you will pay for this, witch!”

Her magic settled back inside her, satisfied and sated, like a cat curling up in front of a roaring fire. Katerina smirked, and Baba Petrova shot her an exasperated look. She ignored it. If Baba didn’t like how Katerina had solved the problem, then she should have intervened. This was what Baba got for standing there like a lump of coal while this moron threatened her and suggested that the Kniaz take Katerina as…what? His replacement courtesan? His plaything?

Dimis could choose their own mates, true—but if the Kniaz chose her, refusing wouldn’t be so simple. Most would see it as a great honor, an act of service to the realm second only to serving in the Druzhina.

Well, Katerina did not. Besides which, Dimi Zakharova would poison her every meal or slit her throat in her sleep. Let the Kniaz try to make good on the way he’d undressed her with his eyes in the arena. No matter what Niko threatened, she didn’t need him to protect her against a mere man, ruler of the realm though he might be. Spitfire, was she? If the Kniaz laid a finger on her, noble or no, she would show him what it meant to burn.

On the stones, Niko sat up, still looking furious. He stalked over to Andrei, blade in hand, and glowered down at him. “Not dead,” he reported. “Just an idiot.”

At this, Katerina laughed out loud. “You’re all fools,” she said to the man in the grove and the two on horseback. “The Kniaz wants me because of what I can do, yet you seek to insult me and suggest my place is in his bed rather than fighting by my Shadow’s side to defend Iriska? Perhaps you’ve confused me with my softer sisters.” She raised a hand and gestured at the Vila, who were clustered next to the Elders, as if seeking their protection. Elena’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated with fear. Perhaps, Katerina thought, she had truly feared for Niko’s life.

She shouldn’t be uncharitable to Elena. The Vila had never done Katerina harm, no matter how differently they saw the world. Katerina was the one in the wrong. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

Forcing her shoulders back, she watched as the man in the grove struggled to get to his feet. She had to strike now, while she still had the advantage, before his wounded pride got the best of him. “I won’t leave Kalach,” she said. “Not undefended like this, without their strongest Dimi and their alpha Shadow.” State your terms, Niko had said. Well, this was the best she could think of. “Let us hear back from the Magiya as to the nature of this threat. Then, once I’m assured Kalach can survive in my absence, my Shadow and I will go to the Kniaz.”

“No.” Brushing leaves and dirt from his clothes, Andrei strode toward her. The red-and-purple ribbons had come undone from his hair, and his face was scarlet with rage. “This is not a negotiation, witch. The Kniaz calls, and you come.”

Niko had followed him, blade still out. Now he came to stand by Katerina’s side. “Do Katerina and I need to teach you another lesson?” he said, his voice mild. He turned his knife idly, so the sun reflected off its blade. “My Dimi heels for no one. She serves the Light, and I’m proud to fight by her side. Would you like another demonstration of our skills?”

Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “You?—”

Before he could say another word, the man on the roan spoke up for the first time. “Have patience, Andrei. The Kniaz suspected she would resist, did he not? Offer her an alternative. It’ll all be the same, in the end.”

Andrei scowled at Katerina. Then he turned to face Baba Petrova and the Elders. “You,” he said, gesturing at Baba with one meaty hand. “Do you concur with the witch and her dog? You wish for her to defy the Kniaz’s command and stay here, for such time as His Grace might see fit to allow?”

Baba stepped forward. The light glinted on her white hair and deepened the royal blue of the gown that marked her as what she was: ancient witch and keeper of the village’s rituals. “Though I may disagree with Dimi Ivanova’s tactics,” she said in her cracked voice, “I agree with her opinion.”

Katerina’s eyebrows rose, relief washing over her. She had hoped Baba would speak on her behalf, but she hadn’t been certain of it. Defying the Kniaz’s wishes was no small thing.

Then again, neither was assaulting one of his emissaries and using witchwind to throw him fifty yards into a birch grove. Katerina couldn’t imagine that she and Niko had made any friends today.

Well, if the Kniaz didn’t care for her, so much the better. She would be his weapon, not his wench. Better she make that clear now, before she found herself having to bind him the same way she had this stupid oaf. And Saints forbid Niko got word of such a thing. She feared that if the Kniaz laid an unwanted finger on her, Niko would kill him. And then where would they be?

“I’m listening,” Andrei said in a haughty tone that made Katerina snort. Across the square, Baba Petrova sighed.

“Dimi Ivanova and her Shadow are the strongest protection we have,” she went on. “I apologize for her insolence, but you yourself have seen her strength, and believe me when I tell you she restrained herself.”

“Indeed.” Sarcasm clung to Andrei’s every syllable. He looked pointedly down at his sullied clothes.

Next to Katerina, Ana rolled her eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped you,” she whispered. Katerina smirked at her, biting back a sarcastic reply.

“All of us know that a terrible force is among us, something unlike anything I have ever seen,” Baba went on, ignoring them both. “We have no answers, only questions. This is a dangerous time. I humbly request that the Kniaz give me the opportunity to train others as best I can to take Dimi Ivanova and her Shadow’s place, and to appoint another alpha for the pack.” She spared a warning glance for Katerina. “Though her attitude is regrettable, her abilities are…unprecedented. Should the threat that destroyed Drezna come our way, I fear that without Dimi Ivanova and her Shadow, we stand no chance against it.”

Katerina steeled her spine. She feared little, but the crater that had eaten Drezna whole, the Darkness that had swirled at the bottom of it, calling to her…could she have defended Kalach against such a thing? What if she had tried, and failed?

Niko shot her a concerned look, and she mastered her expression, settling her features into a neutral mask a moment before Andrei said, “His Grace gave us permission to grant you a month, until the full Blood Moon, when the next tithe of grain will be due.”

A murmur rose up from the villagers. Katerina was sure they were all thinking the same thing—that the harvest would likely not be nearly as fruitful as expected. Several times in the past week, waterwitches had had to take time away from training, summoning rain from the river to fall upon the fields, but it had yielded few results. The crop of wheat was failing, with little explanation as to why. There had been no invasion of locusts, no drought, no paucity of sun. But still, the fields weren’t yielding as they should, and they had nearly exhausted the winter’s stores. If this kept up, they would struggle to make their tithe.

Andrei barreled onward, with no concern for the villagers’ distress. “The witch and her bastard Shadow”—he gazed at Niko with disgust that verged on hatred—“will bring the tithe, and they will stay. As for now, you will give us three additional Dimis and Shadows to take back to Rivki, to stand surety for Ivanova and her dog. We will release them to you when the witch and her Shadow deliver the tithe.”

There was a collective gasp from behind Katerina, where the rest of the Dimis and Shadows stood. Baba Petrova spoke for all of them. “Three? But that would leave us with only seventeen Dimi and Shadow pairs to defend ourselves in the event of an attack. The Kniaz has thrice that. Surely he doesn’t require three of our own?—”

Andrei’s features grew steely. “Either you send the witch Ivanova and her black dog now, or you give us three others. The choice is yours, Baba of Kalach.”

Baba was a small woman, barely coming to Katerina’s shoulder. But such was her authority in the village that she loomed much larger. She had the last word on which Dimis and Shadows bonded. Which Shadows and Vila married. Everyone, including Katerina, revered her. But now she looked smaller somehow, like the ancient crone she was. “Give me a few minutes, then,” she said to Andrei. “I need to confer with the Council.”

Andrei inclined his head. “I’ll allow it,” he said in an entitled tone of voice that made Katerina want to send him flying through the air all over again.

Baba stepped off the stones of the square, and the five members of the Elder Council followed. Katerina watched, her heart pounding, as they retreated down the path to Baba’s cottage and disappeared inside.