The Sparrow in Hiding

by J. Kathleen Cheney

  Morozov had a grim look, his jaw clenched. As a human, he had no power to combat a witch. He’d summoned the wolf who guarded him in the wood, an enormous old gray creature with a shaggy coat and yellow eyes who sat at the edge of the woods watching. But he had no powers of his own to defend Illarion and Irina—and by extension, Evgeny—other than his physical prowess. Still, he could threaten the wrath of the leshys, and that might mean something to a witch.

  Illarion preferred a more direct method. He’d brought a pistol. Morozov didn’t approve but didn’t argue about it, either. Illarion’s way was to be their last line of defense. If he shot Sidonie, he would be tried for murdering the wife of a prince.

  Evgeny doubted he could escape Sidonie. Even if they won out today, she would just find some other way to stab at him and that made him fearful for Irina.

  Not too long after the birds warned him, the carriage approached from the village, crunching along the road toward the Big House. Evgeny felt his heart pound at the sight of his father’s crest on the door of the coach. For a moment hope rose in him that his father had actually come seeking him himself. But that hope was dashed when the carriage stopped and a beautiful woman stepped down on the groom’s arm—his stepmother. Her traveling gown was made of dark green silk, and she wore a smart cap with pheasant feathers that curved about to caress her pink cheek. From her ears hung two huge pearls, and a gold and pearl necklace was clasped about her high collar.

  “Why Evgeny Petrovich, how nice to see you,” she said pleasantly.

  Evgeny hadn’t laid eyes on the woman in over two years, but she didn’t seem to have aged. Her dark hair had two striking streaks of white in it, framing her face, but that was the only thing that hinted she was older than Evgeny himself. He knew better. She had to be in her mid thirties by now, at the least. When he looked at her, his cursed eyes showed him the magpie barely held in check within her soul. “Madam.”

  She smiled coyly. “Will you not introduce me to your friends, Evgeny?”

  Evgeny didn’t see any need to answer.

  “But of course, I know who they are. Illarion Razumov and Nikolay Morozov.” She walked nearer to Morozov, who stiffened when she reached out to touch his chest. “What an interesting pair you are. I hear such tales out of the village.”

  Neither of them spoke, aware that anything they said could be twisted against them.

  She came closer, smiling up at Morozov. “Razumov isn’t fully human, nor is his sister, but they still smell Russian. You, though. You are most interesting. You smell of wolf and time and dirt. How did you come to be wearing this puny human form? You gave up your power. For what?” She waved one hand toward Illarion. “Love?”

  Evgeny stepped in front of her. If she needled Morozov, the man might attack.

  “Move aside, Evgeny,” Morozov said from behind him.

  “Her quarrel is with me.”

  She smiled again. “You’re wrong, Evgeny. I have no quarrel with you. You’ve taken a wife, I’ve heard.”

  He had no doubt she knew the answer. Someone in the village had likely told her the day and the hour of the wedding. “What do you want?”

  She reached up to set a hand on his coat’s lapel. Evgeny stepped back, but not before she grabbed at the bag hung about his neck. He stumbled backward just as Morozov stepped forward and slapped her with the back of his hand. Her head snapped about, but she simply sneered at him, not seeming hurt at all. “Have you decided this will be a battle, then?”

  “You came here intending one,” Morozov said, seeming to grow larger in his fury. “I tire of your playacting.”

  She retreated a couple of steps and dipped one hand inside her smart jacket. When her hand came forth, it was fisted. Evgeny put his hand to the talisman at his neck only a split second before she threw a handful of dust at him. He threw one hand over his eyes, but the dust came into his mouth. Pain ripped through this body, a pain he’d felt before . . .

  He hit the ground, his mind screaming in fear as her spell tried to steal his humanity away.

  I am human, he told himself, clutching to that knowledge.

  It hadn’t helped all those years ago.

  

  Evgeny fell to the ground, and Irina didn’t hesitate. She ran down the stairs. From the doorway, she saw Kolya kneeling over him, ripping at the bag tied about Evgeny’s neck. Kolya forced Evgeny’s mouth open and forced something into it. “Eat it,” he ordered.

  Evgeny complied, and Kolya wrapped one large hand about his arm and hauled him to his feet.

  The witch had tried the same spell on him again, Irina realized, trying to turn him back into a swan. Was that the only trick that she had?

  Evgeny glanced over at Morozov, nodding slowly as he continued to chew whatever was in his mouth. Kolya turned his eyes on the witch. “Transformation spells. What demon did you trade with for those?”

  Irina swallowed, forcing down her fear. The woman held her hand to one side in a fist, so she must have more of whatever she’d thrown at Evgeny. Irina stayed inside the threshold, not wanting to distract the men.

  A raven dropped down onto the pathway in front of Evgeny, and then another. The witch stepped back, her teeth bared in anger. More birds landed on the ground, crows and ravens and starlings all blocking her away from Evgeny. They fluttered in the air around him, more each moment.

  “We are not alone here,” Kolya told the woman. The wolf at his side snarled as if to underscore his words. “You do not have the power to take us all.”

  Irina swallowed. Hasn’t this same woman enspelled six young men before—at once?

  “Not you, perhaps.” The woman surveyed the gathering flock of birds standing between her and Evgeny, and then lifted her fist and blew softly.

  A cloud spread out from the woman’s breath. Evgeny threw his arm over his face again. The birds scattered, all save a handful caught in that cloud. They dropped to the ground, unmoving. The wolf backed away, growling. The cloud passed over Kolya and didn’t touch him, but he immediately turned back toward Illarion. “Ilari, run!”

  Illarion didn’t hesitate. He ran for the trees, the wolf loping ahead of him.

  “Do you think he can outrun death?” the witch asked in a sweet voice. “It will catch him in time.”

  Kolya turned back to her, a snarl on his face. “Call it back. Whatever you want, I will give it to you.”

  The witch spread her hand toward Evgeny, who stood where the cloud had left him, still chewing whatever Kolya had put in his mouth. “You know what I want,” she said. “Kill him for me, and I will save the other.”

  Kolya looked white

  Irina pressed one hand to her stomach. What would Kolya do to protect Illarion?

  She didn’t wait to find out. She ran out into the courtyard, one hand in her pocket, and stopped before the witch. “Call it back,” she insisted, repeating Kolya’s words.

  “Get out of here,” Kolya yelled at her.

  Evgeny’s eyes were wide with horror. In all their plans, she was never supposed to leave the safety of the house.

  Irina turned away from him, steeling herself. From her pocket she drew her necklace of yellow diamonds set with gold and amber. Varvara had polished the stones until they glittered and flashed in the sunlight. “Do you see this?” Irina asked. “Do you want it?”

  The witch’s eyes fixed on the stones. She took a step toward Irina, her lips drawn up in a snarl.

  “If you want this,” Irina said, turning the necklace so that the diamonds caught the light, “you have to bargain with me.”

  “What do you want?” the witch said, her voice no longer sweet.

  “Call back that spell and leave us alone.”

  “One or the other,” the witch said.

  Irina licked her lips, nervousness making her throat dry. “Call back the spell.”

  The cloud that had chased Illarion into the woods came speeding back. Evgeny and Kolya both jumped to push Irina out of its path, the three of them landin
g in a graceless pile on the gravel, but it enveloped the witch and shrank down until it fit once again into her hand. She stood over them, dead birds at her feet. “Give it to me.”

  Irina wasn’t about to hand it over that easily. Pulling away from Evgeny’s grasp, she pushed up enough to fling the necklace a dozen feet away. The witch scrambled after it, too greedy to keep up the pretense of gentility. She knelt crooning over the necklace, her back hunched like an old crone’s. Her fine gown was dusty now from the gravel.

  Kolya managed to get to his feet first, and helped Irina up while Evgeny managed to rise. The witch ignored them, and Irina wished briefly she had Illarion’s pistol, because this would be the time to kill the woman—when she was distracted by petty baubles. Irina stepped closer. “There’s more.”

  The witch’s eyes shifted toward hers. “More?”

  “A great deal more,” she said softly. “My first husband gave me many jewels. Pearls, diamond, sapphires.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They’re hidden,” Irina told her. “I knew you were coming so I hid them away where no human will ever find them. The trees hid them for me.”

  “Give them to me,” the witch hissed.

  “No,” Irina said. “You have to bargain.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to leave us alone. All of us, both my family and Lizaveta’s. That’s all you have to do, and once a month on the full moon, I will send you more jewels.”

  “A necklace,” the witch said.

  “Perhaps a bracelet? Or a tiara? I have so many.”

  “Two bracelets or a tiara.”

  Irina licked her lips. “If anything happens to my family, if anything happens to Evgeny or Lizaveta or her children or Grigori’s daughter, there will be no more jewels.”

  The witch clutched the diamond necklace close to her breast. “Done.”

  “Every month, on the full moon,” Irina said, “send one of your grooms here to receive it. Do not come yourself.”

  Sidonie turned and walked toward the carriage, stroking the necklace like a long-missing child.

  Evgeny came to Irina’s side and took her hand in his own. “What have you done?”

  “Those jewels mean nothing to me,” she said.

  “We cannot pay her forever,” he protested.

  “Until we can think of something else, it will do.”

  “I did not want you in danger.”

  “There was no other way,” she said.

  He sighed as he surveyed the dozen dead birds strewn about the gravel. “I didn’t ask them to come.”

  “I know,” she said. “But you care for them, so they care for you.”

  Evgeny removed his coat and began gathering the dead creatures on it. He shooed her away with a warning about lice, so Irina kept her distance. She spotted Illarion walking back along the path that led out of the woods, safe and sound. The wolf trailed him at a distance, its hackles still raised. “Thank God,” she said, crossing herself.

  Kolya glanced down at her, then, jaw clenched. “I would have let your new husband die.”

  “I know. It was an impossible choice, so I came to spare you the making of it.”

  “Do you understand?” he asked.

  “Yes. Go see to Illarion.”

  Kolya took her at her word. He went to meet Illarion on the pathway and threw his arms around him.

  None of them, truly, were equal to that woman. They’d won, but only for now, and at a price that had hurt Evgeny.

  Despite Evgeny’s protests, Irina helped him gather the bodies of the valiant birds who’d come to protect him. She had to pray that the witch’s comeuppance would find her in time.

  Epilog

  * * *

  EVERY MONTH IRINA would walk out among the trees, touching their branches and listening to their whispering. Many trees within this forest still held her jewels, hiding them deep within their roots against the day when she would need another necklace or bracelet to buy peace for another month. The witch’s man would come soon.

  This forest was vast, but now she felt no fear. The birds watched over her, the trees touched her with their branches, and the wolf trailed her. She was safe from the witch here. Her family was safe.

  And this fine summer morning, she wasn’t alone. Evgeny had come with her, and she held their son in her arms. The baby’s eyes were as blue as the summer sky and his hair the gold of wheat, like his father’s. Evgeny helped her lay out a blanket at the base of the bay tree as Irina loosened the boy’s swaddling and lifted him up before her. “Mother, I’ve brought your grandson to meet you.”

  A branch stroked her hair, and the tree’s sharp leaves rattled in the breeze like children’s play swords. Little Illarion smiled, although Irina couldn’t be sure what he made of the forest. He was too young. She handed the baby to Evgeny, who sat now against the tree’s base. He tucked the infant against his hip and waited.

  Irina drew a folded handkerchief out of her apron pocket. She opened it carefully, being sure not to touch the contents. She lifted the cloth to display the stones within. “I need to know what to do with these.”

  The stones glittered like black diamonds. Two weeks before, when Evgeny first held his son against his chest, he’d cried tears of pure joy. His tears had clattered to the wooden floor, leaving Evgeny’s eyes as blue as they must have been before the curse.

  Grumbling the whole while about the witch who’d done that horrible thing to Master Evgeny, Varvara had collected the stones with gloved hands, scouring the floors for hours to find every last one. It was one of the minor miracles the past year had wrought; seeing Irina’s happiness, the old woman now counted Evgeny as worthy of her affection.

  “They are his curse, are they not?” Irina asked her mother. “In physical form.”

  The leaves of the tree rattled again.

  “What do I do with them?” They had discussed this for days now, what to do with the things. They didn’t dare touch them for fear that the curse would be revisited on them. Kolya might know, but he and Illarion were in St. Petersburg now.

  “Bury them?” Evgeny asked, his blue eyes lifting to meet hers.

  The trees whispered to Irina, but she couldn’t follow their words. She sighed. “They have an idea, but I can’t tell what it is,” she told Evgeny.

  He glanced down at the infant held against his hip. Little Illarion had fallen asleep again, bow mouth slightly open. “Can you sleep?”

  Men rarely had anything to do with their children, but Evgeny had been different from the beginning, perhaps because of his own father’s absence. Since the baby had nursed before they came out here, Irina had no doubt that Evgeny could handle him for a time. She laid the baby on the blanket next to Evgeny while he found a more comfortable position against the base of the tree. “Wake me if he needs anything,” she said.

  She lay down, resting her head on Evgeny’s leg. The trees whispered to Irina, drawing her into sleep.

  The woman of fireflies sat next to Irina at the base of the tree. She could no longer see Illarion or the baby, but knew they were still there in the waking world. “Mother.”

  Her mother’s glowing form reached out one hand to touch Irina’s cheek, a brushing of wind. “He is beautiful, my grandson.”

  “Do you know what I should do with these stones, Mother? I fear to touch them.”

  “They are pure magic.” Her mother gave a breezy laugh. “If you wish to vanquish your enemy, she has given you the weapon you need.”

  The next morning, they took the jewels to a fine jeweler in St. Petersburg, where they were set in a necklace of white gold.

  

  The witch’s man came as planned on the full moon and took away the necklace that the jeweler had made for them. But they had no way to know what became of that payment. The road to Nizhny was long.

  Nearly four weeks later, a carriage with the crest of Evgeny’s father on the side arrived at the dacha. Irina finished nursing her son a
nd handed him to Varvara before going down to greet the newcomer just as the groom let down the steps and opened the door. To Irina’s relief, it wasn’t the witch’s footman who stepped down from the carriage, but Lizaveta, wearing colors again since she was no longer in mourning for her brother Grigori.

  Lizaveta came to kiss Irina’s cheeks, but spotted Evgeny emerging from the aviary and ran to him before Irina had a chance to say anything.

  “She is gone!” Lizaveta exclaimed as she flew into Evgeny’s embrace. “She received a new bauble, a necklace with black diamonds. When Father put it around her neck, she turned into a magpie and flew away! Dozens of the servants saw it happen. Those who are loyal to her have fled, and it is like Father has woken from a dream. Her hold over him is broken!”

  Evgeny kissed his sister’s cheeks, laughter reaching his blue eyes. “I am glad to know Father is better.”

  “And he wants you to return home,” she added as Irina came nearer. “Please say you will come home, Evgeny.”

  Irina pressed her hands together, holding her breath. She wasn’t ready for him to leave, to return to being a prince and all that entailed. And she wasn’t sure she could ever face going there herself.

  Evgeny surveyed the gardens, the Summer House, and the aviary. “This is the only place where I know my son is safe. Father may come see me, Lishka, but I will not be moved from this place.” He held out his hand, and Irina went to stand with him, the ache in her heart relieved. “Or from my wife’s side. This is my home now.”

  The End

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