Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
KATERINA
Suppressing the memory of the way Niko’s eyes had bled to solid black, overtaking his familiar, stormy gray, Katerina shoved him behind her. Fire burned at her fingertips as she pressed him backward, into the tunnel of thorns.
Down their revived bond, she felt the amusement beneath his fury—as if, of the two of them, he was the one who needed protecting. He, who wielded the Darkness’s might.
He might command those shades, but as far as Katerina was concerned, they made him more vulnerable, not less. With every life they took, they left another scar on his soul.
“Dimi Ivanova. Nezhit Alekhin.” It was Berezin’s voice; Katerina recognized it well enough, though he stood outside the maze’s boundaries. “We have you surrounded. There is no way out. In the name of the Saints and the oath you once swore to the Light, surrender.”
If Katerina had felt like conversing, she would have told Berezin how idiotic this was. What sense did it make to obey, only to meet the hangman’s noose in the morning? Instead, she gathered herself, closed her eyes, and reached for her magic.
For a single, terrifying instant, she feared Niko might resist her, the way he’d done in Kalach.
But no. She drew her power through him, as she always had, and he gave her everything.
Flames collected at her fingertips, and she gestured, shaping them in midair, then mustered her witchwind.
Moments later, a massive fireball blasted through the tunnel of thorns.
It struck true: Berezin howled in agony, a wordless scream echoed by another and then another as more of her fireballs hit home.
This would hold them off, she hoped. But for how long?
“You said you trusted me.” Her Shadow spoke, his tone wary, as if he expected her to deny him.
Her gaze finding his, Katerina nodded. She had said that, back in the dungeons, and she’d meant it. His eyes were still that unsettling black, shadows shifting within them as if the shades themselves lived in their depths. But she could feel him, conflicted but still steady. Still hers.
“I do,” she said aloud, as the maze began to burn and smoke filled the air.
I would never hurt you. He sent the words down their bond rather than speaking, so she would know the truth of them.
Before she could ask him what he meant to do, the shades writhing at his feet rose, concealing both himself and Katerina within their dark embrace.
Run, he told her, and she obeyed.
They fled through the thorns together, Niko in the lead.
The world beyond the shades’ veil was dim, the moonlight barely penetrating it, but her Shadow didn’t hesitate.
Katerina couldn’t tell whether his keen vision penetrated the blackness, or whether he didn’t have to see at all.
Perhaps the shades guided his feet, leading them unerringly through one passage after the next.
Either way, there was no turning back now.
Behind them, trampling through the burning maze, lay the Druzhina; in front of them lay the unknown. And, perhaps, freedom.
She had walked this maze a half-dozen times or more, praying to the Saints for guidance about her love for her Shadow, but she had never raced through it like this—running for her life, let alone running blind.
Perhaps she should have been afraid, but there was something almost exhilarating about surrendering her control to Niko this way, moving, invisible, through the maze’s twists and turns.
The shades never brushed her skin; they were a shield, concealing her and Niko from view, not harming her.
Protecting her from the smoke and from their pursuers, as if they were an extension of her Shadow.
Trust me, he had said, and so she would.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the shades fell away, leaving her and Niko standing under the clear, star-pricked night sky at last. Behind them, the maze had shriveled wherever his shades had touched it, the roses falling, blackened, to the ground, leaving the thorns bare.
In the distance, the fire spread, devouring the desiccated blooms and leaves, a black spark burning in the flames’ orange heart.
Smoke curled into the air, a dark thread twisting within it.
The maze had stood for centuries, a place of peace and sanctuary. She had only meant to lead the Druzhina off their scent, not to destroy one of Rivki’s treasures. What had she done?
Katerina shivered, reaching out for Niko’s hand. He jerked back as if her touch had scorched him, his gaze flicking to the dying maze—then to the path in front of them, which led to the stables.
There stood Ana, Alexei, Damien, and Sofi, horses saddled and bridled, just as Ana had promised before she’d bolted from the courtyard.
Beyond them, the silvery waters of Lake Krasa rippled under the moonlit sky, the bridge over the moat that surrounded Rivki no more than a hundred yards beyond the rune-warded portcullis.
They were so close to freedom, she could taste it.
And of course, that was when everything went wrong.
The remnants of the Druzhina Guard came at them from three sides. One group surged from the burning maze, coughing and smudged with ash, their clothes torn. The others came from the left and the right, having gone around to cut them off. Berezin was not among them—had Katerina killed him?
Horror churned within her. Death by hanging was one thing; with an experienced executioner and a well-used rope, it was over soon enough. But if she and Niko had murdered the Druzhina’s alpha and his second, there would be no quick death for them. They would die slowly and in great pain.
They had to escape.
The Druzhina’s Shadows gripped their blades; their Dimis surged forward, fire flickering at their fingertips and the earth rumbling in warning. Witchwind whipped through the trees that edged Lake Krasa, and the water frothed, licking at its banks.
Behind Niko and Katerina lay the stables and the lake, the bridge over the latter blocked by the portcullis. There was nowhere else to go. Swimming across the moat was impossible, not with the vicious, hungry Vodianyye spirits that lurked in its depths.
Her Shadow stirred, drawing himself up. In the tension of his body, the grim set of his jaw, Katerina knew what he was readying himself to do: marshal his shades to slay what remained of the Druzhina Guard.
She couldn’t let that happen. Were he himself, Niko would never have considered such a thing. After the heat of battle faded, he would regret this, and punish himself for it. It would be yet another reason he told himself—and her—that he was not deserving of the Light.
The shades crept upward from where they’d crouched at his feet, seething at his fingertips in a strange echo of Katerina’s witchfire, and an uneasy murmur moved through the Druzhina.
Without the sedative tonic, they were at Niko’s mercy.
And right now, he didn’t look like he had any mercy left to give.
No, she told him, mind-to-mind, her voice as firm as she could make it. Hold.
His head swiveled and his eyes met hers, the shadows in them flickering. They hurt you. The words were a growl, deeper even than his black dog’s. They want us dead.
This was true. And yet: We are better than they are, she told him. I will find another way.
His only reply was a frustrated snarl, but he obeyed her. He held.
Relief coursed through Katerina as Sofi came to stand by her side, the other Dimi’s witchwind stirring the air.
With her came Ana, Alexei, and Damien, each gripping two horses’ bridles.
These were battle-trained beasts, but they still shifted uneasily, nostrils flaring and feet stomping as the wind roared and the earth shook.
They would stand steady, but for how long?
The three battalions converged, Dimi Novikova at their apex, driving Katerina and her friends back toward the lake. Trapping them. She made out Dimi Zakharova and her Shadow in their midst, the woman’s eyes hot with loathing.
“Saints,” Ana said, her hand trembling on the big bay’s bridle and her eyes wide, the whites showing all around. “What now?”
“We could ride them down.” Alexei bit out the words. “Create a distraction.”
That would never be enough. It might buy them a few minutes, but then they’d be right back where they’d begun.
Katerina’s mind whirled, sorting through options and discarding them. What gift did she have that could outweigh the Druzhina’s? What could she do that would stay Niko’s hand and still result in their freedom?
And then she knew. It was a long shot, but the best one they had.
As the Druzhina closed in around them, she drew a deep, centering breath, taking in the metallic tang of blood that stained the air, the perfume of burning roses, the crisp, dark scent of the night itself. Were these her perceptions, or her Shadow’s?
The line between them blurred, her power merging with his as she pulled on the very roots of her magic. And then, with a force of effort that she felt in every strained cell, Lake Krasa began to roil.
A collective gasp came from the Druzhina, and Damien’s hands tightened on his horses’ bridles, his face blank with shock. “Are you doing that, Katerina? Alone?”
Niko answered for her. “Yes,” he said, the single word carrying a world of pride.
The water seethed, as if stirred by a giant hand.
Katerina gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, stirring the mud at the bottom, urging the water upward.
And then it rose, lifting from the bed of the lake, gathering momentum with every inch of height.
It soared up, up, up, until she laid the bottom of the lake bare.
The wave towered over them, frothing. Within it churned the Vodianyye who had been pent up for centuries.
Born from the spirits of those who had drowned, the Vodianyye wanted nothing more than to drag others down to face their fate.
They were a defense against evil, meant as a secondary line of protection should the Grigori demons find a way to cross running water…
but they would be just as happy to consume human souls.
And Rivki kept them hungry.
As one, the Guard’s gaze flicked upward to the wall of water that hung over them, arrested in time and space.
To Damien, Alexei, and Ana, holding the horses’ bridles.
To Sofi, hands extended to summon the wind.
To Niko, his shades milling about his feet like obedient hounds, awaiting his command.
And finally, to Katerina, arms raised to the sky, droplets of riverwater spangling her hair, her clothes torn and stained with blood.
Her voice rang out over the melee. “Raise the gate!”
For a moment, she didn’t think the Guard would comply. But then, hatred marking every line of her face, Dimi Novikova gave the signal. The sentinels on either side leapt to attention, and the portcullis creaked up one blessed inch at a time, revealing the expanse beyond.
Niko’s shades thrashed at his feet once more, as if furious at being denied their prey. Well, that was too bad for them. Hold, she told Niko, who gave a tight nod as he took two of the horses’ bridles.
In her periphery, she made out the shapes of her friends mounting up and galloping across the bridge.
She could spare them no attention. All her focus was on the wall of water hanging navy and cerulean and silver-black over the city, the color of a fresh bruise.
It took all she had to hold it back. Her body shook with the weight of it, but she couldn’t let it fall.
Not like this, without control; it would destroy Rivki, the Vodianyye hunting down all the members of the Guard within reach.
No matter what they thought of her, that was not what she wanted.
“Let us go,” she told Dimi Novikova as Niko boosted her up onto one of the horses, “and I will let you live.”
Taking the woman’s silence for assent, Katerina let the wave descend back into the lake bed.
It fell with a roar to rival Drezna’s collapse, bringing fish and the hulk of sunken ships and the Vodianyye themselves with it.
The water overspilled the moat and washed into the streets, where the Druzhina ran for their lives.
Katerina drew a deep, shuddering breath, blackness nibbling at the edges of her vision. With an effort, she forced it back and seized the reins. Her Shadow at her side, she thundered under the portcullis and over the bridge, leaving the flooded streets of Rivki behind them.