It wasn’t as huge as Alfhercht’s tree outside Kiev, but it was a comfortable size. They didn’t need a fortress. Just a safe place to stay while Wielaf got his strength back.
Alfhercht joined Wielaf among the group, smiling cautiously. The trees were still too thin to overlap and form real walls, but they were thickening up as everyone stood and watched.
“How long will they take to grow?” Anya asked.
Wielaf looked back at the tree, shrugged, then said, “Tonight?”
“Wow,” Håkon said.
“What are we going to do until then?” Ivan asked.
Anya snapped her fingers. “I have an idea.”
* * *
Anya knew there were a lot of rules about how to build a sukkah. The walls were fairly simple—there had to be at least two full walls, plus part of a third, even though Babulya always insisted on four full walls. There were size limits—it couldn’t be too tall—but Anya was never worried about those, because she was certain she wasn’t capable of making one too high. The sechach, the roof, was another story. It had to shade the inside but not be complete coverage. The tree branches couldn’t still be alive, and it had to use plants that weren’t harvested for another purpose. So no straw taken from the goats as a temporary sechach.
She relayed this information to Wielaf and Alfhercht as the group walked toward her barn. Wielaf stroked his chin. Alfhercht spoke with his hands, and Wielaf translated with his voice: “I can do that.”
Alfhercht paced out a long, wide area, and dug his fingers into the soil at four points. Slender saplings rose up, the corners of the sukkah. Alfhercht pulled branches sideways out of these saplings, then paced between, pulling up six more saplings. When he pulled branches from these saplings, they converged with the branches of the saplings next to them, forming walls. He left a spot for a door, and left holes as windows. He left the top open per Anya’s instructions.
The sukkah frame was perfect. It was big enough to hold half the village, too.
“Thank you,” she said. “It looks beautiful.”
Wielaf and Alfhercht both grinned, and then Babulya’s voice called, “I’ll say!”
She came shuffling around the side of the barn, followed by a retinue of chickens. Håkon stumbled backwards, slamming into the side of the barn. He looked terrified, but then settled. He put his hands on his chest, as if reminding himself that he was a human now, not a dragon.
“What on earth was that?” Babulya asked.
Everyone looked at Håkon. “I tripped!” he said.
Babulya listened to his voice. “I don’t know you, do I?” She swung a hand out toward Alfhercht and Wielaf. “And I don’t know them, either.”
“They’re—” Anya started. She looked around at everyone gathered. No one offered up any explanation about the newcomers’ identities.
“We’re Kin’s nephews!” Håkon blurted. “We’re visiting him. Just for today.”
“Just for today?” Babulya narrowed her sightless eyes, then grinned. “How lucky! Tonight we’re having a special dinner! You’ll all have to join us!” She moved to the sukkah. “After all, you helped my Annushka build quite the sukkah.”
Alfhercht and Wielaf looked worried. Babulya ran her wrinkled hand over the corner post closest to her, and the sapling’s leaves shifted toward her. Wielaf and Alfhercht’s expressions changed from worried to surprised.
“Oh,” she said in a soft voice to the tree. “Is that right? Well, what are they doing here?” She leaned closer, then tsked. “No home? Well, we know about that kind of thing, don’t we?”
Wielaf’s mouth dropped open. Then Babulya turned to him and Alfhercht and shuffled forward. She reached out her hands, and Wielaf let his find hers. “You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need to. Especially this winter. Do you have a safe place to sleep?”
Wielaf and Alfhercht looked back and forth between each other and Babulya. Wielaf managed to say, “We do, Gospozha.”
She nodded toward their growing tree home. “That’ll be up fast enough?”
Wielaf trembled. “It should.”
Babulya patted Wielaf’s hands before letting go of them. “We’ll make sure it is, won’t we?” Babulya stroked the sapling at the edge of the sukkah. “I think you look very nice. You’ll grow into a beautiful little structure right here. But hmm, hmm, Annushka, there’s no sechach.”
“We didn’t get there yet,” Anya said.
Babulya nodded. “Did you know your papa used to make the sechach out of the roses? It was so pretty.” She patted the tree and turned back toward the other side of the barn. “Too bad he’s not here to do that this year.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Babulya was right. Papa wasn’t there. But Alfhercht and Wielaf were.
Wielaf followed Babulya so she could show him her roses, while Håkon dragged Ivan with him to take Alfhercht into the forest. When they came back, they carried a pile of birch branches large enough to cover the entire top of the sukkah.
Anya directed them to put the branches next to the sukkah, and then they lifted her up so she could put each branch on, laying them alternating back and forth. Before she got down, Wielaf ran up with lengths of rose vines in his hands. White roses bloomed along them, definitely out of season, Babulya’s doing, but Anya didn’t care. She hung them as garlands inside the sukkah while Alfhercht coaxed the birch’s leaves into riotous golds and oranges so the whole top of it looked like the horizon of the setting sun.
The sun itself was going down, and Mama came around the side of the barn. She stopped dead in her tracks and marveled at the beautiful sukkah, then realized there were three boys there she didn’t recognize.
“Kin’s nephews,” Wielaf piped, even though he had no idea who Kin was. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Mama said. She peered at Håkon and said, “Are you Kin’s nephew too?”
Håkon stood stiff, nervous. He had seen Mama from afar many times. Anya imagined he had never thought they’d speak.
“Yes, Gospozha,” he said finally, then blurted, “Anya says you make very good bread.”
Mama smiled. “Well, you’ll get to try some tonight if you want to stay. You’re all invited.”
They thanked her, then set about decorating the sukkah further, between helping Mama and Babulya bring bowls and lanterns and pillows to sit on out to the sukkah. Soon it was like a little second home, lit up and beautiful in the deepening twilight. Håkon left to get Kin—to show Kin his temporary boy form while it lasted—and Anya watched Wielaf and Alfhercht teach Ivan some words with his fingers as she shoved all the goats into the barn and locked the door.
Kin and Håkon came down the road. Kin looked freshly scrubbed, and his eyes were red. Lena’s gold ring was around his smallest finger. He couldn’t stop hugging Håkon.
Dyedka came out of the house using his walking stick with one hand and carrying a pitcher of water with the other. When he saw Wielaf and Alfhercht, he frowned.
Anya gasped. The tree people. Would Dyedka recognize them? If he did, would he be angry? She hurried toward him and said, “Dyedka! These are Kin’s nephews.”
He frowned. “So Kin’s got Alvolk as nephews?”
Everyone quieted. Dyedka eyeballed the elves with his good eye, then handed Anya the pitcher of water.
“Dyedka,” she said, “they’re nice.”
He didn’t respond to her. He approached Wielaf and stood close, eye to eye. They stared at each other for a while, and then Dyedka said, “See this?” He tapped his eye patch. “Your lot’s quiet in the trees. Didn’t even know someone was next to me until he slashed my eye right out.”
Wielaf blanched. He didn’t translate Dyedka’s words for Alfhercht, but Alfhercht seemed to get the idea of the conversation anyway. He charged forward, but Wielaf stopped him with a stiff arm. He was quiet for a while, and then he said, “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Dyedka clapped him on the shoulder. “What are you s
orry for? You weren’t even born yet! We shouldn’t have been there, you know. Burning those forests hurt my heart. Awful. Whole cities gone while they slept. It was a coward’s war.” He jerked his head toward Babulya. “Channah says you don’t have anywhere to go. Well, you can stay with us as long as you need. No one’s going to hurt you this winter. I’ll make sure of that myself.”
Wielaf smiled, bit his lip, and nodded. He spoke to Alfhercht in silence, and then they both looked at Dyedka.
“Thank you,” Wielaf said with his mouth.
“Thank you,” Alfhercht said with his hands.
Dyedka nodded and continued into the sukkah. And just like that, everyone followed him. Even Zvezda had escaped the barn as usual. He meandered up to the sukkah and sniffed at the living leaves. Then he grabbed a mouthful. As everyone sat down inside, Anya lingered at the door, pushing Zvezda so he couldn’t get in. She looked skyward, watching for stars to mark the end of the day. Then Sukkot could officially start, and . . .
She tensed as a thought crossed her mind.
The end of the day.
She looked over at Håkon, sitting beside Kin. He would stay a human until the end of the day. He thought that meant midnight. But Lena was Jewish. To Lena, the end of the day was . . .
“Håkon!” Anya yelled.
Håkon looked up at her, eyebrows up, questioning her outburst.
His eyes were still blue. But his pupils were the vertical slit of a dragon’s.
“Get out of there!” Anya screamed.
Everyone turned to her, startled. Mama said, “Anya, what are you yelling about?”
But it was too late.
The skin of his cheek flaked open, revealing red underneath. The split spread out and down, his human skin peeling away. Mama stood and stumbled backwards, hitting the wall of the sukkah. Babulya and Dyedka stayed seated. Dyedka grabbed Babulya and pulled her close.
Håkon’s trouser legs shredded away as his long ruby tail with golden spines tumbled out. His human hands blew away into dust, revealing his dragon claws. The human face that he’d been so upset about dissolved, and his red, scaly, dragony face popped out, complete with twisting horns.
He sat there, coiled on the floor of the sukkah, too stunned to move. Mama stared at him. Dyedka stared at him. Alfhercht and Wielaf stared at him. Ivan and Kin stared at each other.
Zvezda poked his head in and said, “Myah.” Then he walked nonchalantly into the sukkah, crossing to where Håkon curled, terrified, and sniffed the dragon’s snout. Then he said, “Myah,” again and butted Håkon gently with the top of his head.
Dyedka was the first to move. He slumped back against the side of the sukkah and said, “If that’s not the strangest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
Babulya smacked Dyedka’s arm. “What just happened?”
“The boy’s a dragon,” Dyedka said.
Babulya’s milky eyes widened, and she hooted, “I knew it! I knew there was a dragon about!” She waved her hand in Håkon’s direction. “The chickens have been laying like crazy for months!” Then she crooked a finger at him. “There’ll be good rainfall, won’t there? Ha! You better make sure of that, young man.”
Håkon just stared at her with huge blue eyes, and then he nodded. “Y-yes, Gospozha.”
Mama slid to the floor, hand on her heart. “He talks.”
“Aye, he does,” Kin admitted. “And he reads, too, when he sits still long enough.”
The tent was silent, and then Mama burst into laughter, covering her face with her hands. Then Ivan laughed, and Anya, and soon they all did. Even Håkon. Zvezda bleated loudly, which Anya supposed was the goat’s version of laughter.
They let Zvezda stay inside for dinner. He stood next to Håkon, munching on whatever got close enough. Håkon coiled beside Anya, eating as carefully with his little claws as he could. Ivan sat beside Alfhercht, speaking unsteady words with his fingers and grinning stupidly when Alfhercht nodded with encouragement. Wielaf sat beside Babulya, who wondered loudly if a dragon kindling a flame was breaking Shabbat. They all decided that it wasn’t.
The lanterns lit up the inside of the sukkah, and when Anya looked up, she could see the stars shining in the sky above them.
THE END
Glossary
Names
Anya Miroslavovna Kozlova: AHN-yeh mee-roh-SLA-vov-neh KAZ-lo-veh
Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov: ee-VAHN ee-VAHN-ov-itch ee-VAHN-ov
Håkon Jernhåndssen: HAW-kohn yarn-HUND-sen
Dobrynya Nikitich: dah-BRIN-yeh nee-KEE-teech
Diminutives (used only by very close friends or family)
Annushka (AH-noosh-kah): a diminutive form of the name Anya, which is itself a diminutive of the Christian name Anna or Hebrew name Channah.
Ivanushka (ee-VAH-noosh-kah): a diminutive form of the name Ivan
Masha (MAH-shuh): a diminutive form of the name Maria or Miriam
Russian
babulya (BAH-bool-yeh): grandma
babushka (BAH-boosh-kah): grandmother
bogatyr (buh-GAH-tihr): an epic hero; a knight-errant. The three most famous bogatyri are Dobrynya Nikitich, Ilya Muromets, and Alyosha Popovich.
domoviye (DAH-mo-vey-ah): plural of domovoi
domovoi (DAH-mo-vey): a house spirit, similar to an English brownie. They help around the house if kept happy but can turn into poltergeists if angered or disrespected.
dyedka (da-YED-kah): grandpa
dyedushka (da-YED-oosh-kah): grandfather
Gospodin (gas-PAHD-yihn): Mr., sir
Gospozha (gas-PASZH-ah): Mrs., ma’am
gusli (GOOS-lee): an ancient East Slavic multi-string plucked instrument, played while resting on the musician’s lap
Kiev (KEEV): the name of the capital of Kievan Rus’
Kievan Rus’ (kee-yeh-VAHN roos): a medieval Slavic nation that existed between 862 and 1242 CE, located in modern-day Western Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine. Named for the Rus, a Scandinavian people.
leshy (LEH-shey): a forest spirit that can hurt or harm depending on a person’s treatment of the forest
Perun (PEE-roohn): an Old Slavic god. The highest god of the pantheon.
ruble (ROO-bl): the currency of Kievan Rus’
Rûm (ROUM): a general term for the Byzantine Empire to the south, located in modern-day Turkey
rusalka (roo-SAAL-kah): a river spirit who is fond of drowning men. Depending on the lore, rusalki may be mermaids, fertility spirits, or the souls of women who drowned.
rusalki (roo-SAAL-kee): plural of rusalka
Semik (SEE-meek): “Green Week” or “Rusalka Week.” A Slavic agricultural festival celebrated in early June.
Sogozha (SAH-gozh-eh): a tributary of the Volga River
tsar (ZAHR): king
Varangian (va-RAHN-gyan): a term for a Scandinavian mercenary
vodyaniye (VOHD-yeh-nee): plural of vodyanoi
vodyanoi (VOHD-yeh-noy): a river-grass spirit that looks like a frog and will drown people by tangling them in the grass. Unlike the rusalki, when a vodyanoi drowns someone, that person’s soul must stay and serve him.
zmey (ZMEE): dragon or snake
zmeyok (ZMEE-ahk): a horned snake indigenous to Anya’s village. The name means “dragonling” because people once thought these were baby dragons.
Zmeyreka (ZMEE-ree-kah): “Dragon River,” the name of Anya’s village
Zvezda (ZVYEZ-dah): “Star,” the name of Anya’s goat
Hebrew
bat mitzvah: “daughter of the commandment,” Jewish coming-of-age, signifying that the child is now responsible for her own following of Jewish law, whereas prior to this event the parents were responsible for the child’s following of Jewish law
challah: the name for enriched, sweet bread that is served on holidays (except Passover). Traditionally, a piece of the challah dough is torn off the loaf before baking and burned separately to represent the offering given to priests in the temple.
Hadassah: Esther, the Jewish queen of
Persia who revealed herself to be Jewish after one of the king’s advisers convinced the king to kill all the Jews in Persia. By revealing that she was Jewish, Esther put herself in danger of being killed with all the rest, but instead, her bravery led to the Jews not being killed, and that particular adviser being punished.
Havdalah: “Separation,” the ceremony marking the end of Shabbat, or the sabbath. It divides the holy time of the sabbath from the regular week, and takes place at sunset on Saturday when three stars are visible in the sky.
ibbur (ee-BOOR): “incubation,” a possessing spirit that is always positive (whereas a ru’ach tezazit is always negative). If a righteous soul needs to complete a task or perform a mitzvah, the soul can enter into a living person in order to perform this task or mitzvah. The ibbur needs permission from the possessed person before it can inhabit his or her body, and the ibbur will leave as soon as the task or mitzvah is complete.
Juhuri: the language spoken by the Mountain Jews of Azerbaijan. A mix of Persian and Hebrew, similar to Yiddish (Hebrew-German) and Ladino (Hebrew-Spanish).
kippah: a small, circular, brimless hat worn to fulfill the customary requirement that the head be covered. Men wear them more often but women can wear them as well.
Moshe: another name for Moses the prophet
Purim: a holiday commemorating Hadassah/Esther preventing the massacre of the Jews in Persia. It involves dressing in costumes, reading the Book of Esther, and eating triangular cookies called hamentaschen.
ru’ach tezazit (WOO-akh tza-ZEET): an evil possessing spirit that invades a living body and makes it do bad things. The opposite of an ibbur.
Shabbat: the weekly holiday for Jewish people to take time away from work and regular life
Shabbat shalom: the greeting used on Friday or Saturday wishing the other person a peaceful Shabbat. In Yiddish someone may say “Gut Shabbos.”
Anya and the Nightingale Page 24
