by E. P. Clark
“That wasn’t me,” said Dasha. “Come,” she added, seeing that Mitya was still unconvinced. “We still have far to go, if we don’t want to spend the night under the trees out here.”
“As you wish, Tsarinovna,” said Mitya, still looking at her with round eyes. She swung herself up onto Poloska’s back, and they set off again.
The air continued to grow cooler as the breeze picked up. Every now and then they would hear another distant rumble of thunder, but it stayed off on the edge of hearing. Twice they caught glimpses of a doe watching them through the trees, and once a doe and half-grown fawn ran across their path. Squirrels ran up and down the trees along the path, chittering and watching them with bright black eyes that, Dasha thought, were not unlike those of the domoviye. At one point Mitya said something about wishing they had time to hunt, but the rest of them looked at him so fiercely that he dropped the subject, and never brought it up again.
By late afternoon Oleg told them that they were only a few versts away from the sanctuary, and would certainly arrive there in time for supper.
“There’s a cabin on the edge of the compound,” he told Alik and Mitya. “You can stop there, and I’ll come join you, once I leave Dasha with the sisters.”
“We’re not leaving the Tsarinovna,” said Alik.
“They don’t allow men there,” Oleg told him with a smile. “Not at all, not under any circumstances. You know that.”
“But…”
“Dasha will be safe with them. It’s a sanctuary. What could happen to her there?”
“All kinds of things, if my third-brother’s stories are true,” muttered Alik.
“A sisters’ sanctuary is different,” Oleg told him.
“Well then, what about the other things? Spirits and such. What about them?”
“What do you think you can do against them? Fight them?”
“We shouldn’t leave the Tsarinovna,” said Alik stubbornly, and Mitya nodded his agreement.
“Very well,” said Oleg, still smiling a small smile. “Let’s see what happens, shall we?”
“Who’s going to stop us? It’s a sanctuary, just like you said. How are they going to stop us? What are they going to do, pray at us till we run away?”
“Are you discounting the power of a priestess’s prayers? You saw what happened when Dasha offered up her prayer.”
“I didn’t pray for the storm to stop,” Dasha put in. “That wasn’t what I was praying about at all. That just happened on its own.”
“It did, did it?” Oleg turned his smile to her. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” said Dasha, even though now she wasn’t sure at all. She had prayed for them to be kept safe, hadn’t she? And then the storm had moved off, instead of breaking over their heads as she’d thought it would, and they’d made good time down the road, much better than expected, and without encountering a single wolf or bear on the way, only deer and squirrels. She could see how some would claim that had been the answer to her prayers. Another prayer tree caught her eye. It was even more thickly festooned with ribbons than the one before, and there was another one, and another one, and another one beyond that. All the ribbons were fluttering in the breeze, and the branches were beginning to move as well, like arms waving at her. Her stomach suddenly clenched at the sight, she didn’t know why, and the tingles started to spread out from her neck to her shoulders again.
“I say we ride all the way to the compound, and insist that the sisters let us stay with the Tsarinovna,” Alik was saying. “I say we—AKH!!”
All the horses shied violently. When Dasha had regained her seat, Gray Wolf was sitting in the middle of the path in front of them, his mouth open and his tongue lolling out as if he were laughing.
“Gray Wolf!” she cried. “Alik, take my reins!” She slipped from the saddle and tried to thrust her reins into his hand, but he gripped her wrist, stopping her.
“Tsarinovna, get back on your horse,” he said. “Get back on your horse now!”
“He doesn’t mean me any harm,” Dasha told him.
“You don’t know that. Get back on your horse, Tsarinovna. Right now. Get back on your horse right now.”
Dasha tried to shake her hand free of his grasp, but he was holding her fast. When she looked up, Oleg was still sitting on Belka, looking back and forth between her and Gray Wolf, tense but unwilling to make a move in either direction.
“He doesn’t mean me any harm,” Dasha repeated. “And you couldn’t protect me from him anyway.”
Alik’s lips thinned at that, but before he could do or say anything in response, Gray Wolf rose from his sitting position and leapt forward, reaching Dasha in a single bound. Ryzhechka shied back violently, causing Alik to jerk Dasha to her knees and then let go of her as he fought to stay in the saddle and bring Ryzhechka back under control.
Indeed, said Gray Wolf, coming to stand over Dasha, who was dazed from her sudden fall. Even so, now she could sense, as she hadn’t been able during their first encounter, that he was speaking inside her head, thought to thought, rather than through the air as humans did.
I think you are safer with me than you are with your protectors, he told her.
They didn’t mean me any harm, Dasha answered.
Protectors rarely do. I am glad you sense the same of me. He drew back a pace to allow Dasha to regain her feet, which she did by clutching at his thick, shaggy coat. When he sat back on his haunches, his head was higher than Dasha’s.
Were you always this big? Dasha asked. Or did the gods change you when they took you as their servant?
I was always a monster, Gray Wolf told her, sounding pleased, but they made me even more monstrous. They knew I would need my size for what I would do.
What’s that?
To carry you, little Tsarinovna. Hop on my back, and I will take you where you need to go.
I don’t think the gods knew about that when they made you, Dasha said, saying the first thing that came into her head in order to avoid answering Gray Wolf’s invitation right away. I don’t think they knew about me.
No? Why not? They are gods, after all.
I don’t think they know the future so very much better than the rest of us.
Gray Wolf laughed. Maybe not, little Tsarinovna. But they still guessed that I would need to be large, larger than an ordinary wolf, large enough to carry a human on my back like a horse, and here I am! Ready to carry you away.
Away to where? To the domoviye?
Gray Wolf laughed again. Do you really think they and I could work together, little Tsarinovna?
Well…yes.
Well, you are wrong. We may all be gods-touched, but they have one foot—all their feet—planted in home and hearth, while I am the wild. And you need to be part of the wild too. I can teach you.
Everyone wants to take me away and teach me how to be like them! Soon I’m going to be six things at once, and none of them will be me!
So run away with me, little Tsarinovna! I won’t teach you anything. I’ll just let you be.
I have to be back in Lesnograd in a week’s time. And I want to visit the sanctuary before then.
Gray Wolf heaved a big, gusty sigh. You humans with your plans and schedules. As you will. I will not take you away for long. Just a day or two. Then I will deposit you at your sanctuary, where you can let others continue to teach you how to be more like them.
Dasha tried to see where Gray Wolf would take her, and what would happen, but all she saw was her regret if she rejected his offer.
Very well, she said. Let me just gather my things.
You wish me to carry saddle bags like a horse? You have much to learn of the wild, little Tsarinovna!
I want my things, she said stubbornly. Or are you too weak to carry them?
Gray Wolf rolled his eyes at her. I know what you’re doing, little Tsarinovna. But…it is working. Very well. One saddle bag, and be quick about it!
“I’m going with him,” Dasha announced to
the others, going over to Pyatnyshki to take her smallest pack. “Just for a day or two, and then he’ll bring me to the sanctuary, just as we planned.”
“Tsarinovna…” said Mitya and Alik together.
“So be it,” Oleg interrupted them. “There is nothing we can do to stop it anyway.”
“Yes there is!” Alik exclaimed. “Tell her she can’t go, Oleg Svetoslavovich! Stop her! Grab her and stop her!”
“And how will we stop him?” Oleg asked, pointing to Gray Wolf.
“There are three of us, and one of him!”
Oleg and Gray Wolf both laughed at that. Alik fell silent, looking very angry. Mitya looked nearly as unhappy, but had apparently decided the matter was hopeless.
“I promise Boleslav Vlasiyevich will not blame you for this,” Dasha told them.
Now it was Mitya and Alik’s turn to laugh.
“At least let us go with you, Tsarinovna,” said Mitya.
“I am sorry, Mitya. I have to do this on my own. It is part of my magic, part of my training.”
“Will your magic defend you from danger, Tsarinovna?”
“Yes,” said Dasha with certainty, even though she was certain of no such thing. “That’s why I have to go off by myself. I have to…” she racked her brains to come up with a good explanation, one that they would believe, “I have to be able to concentrate, to focus all my abilities, and I can’t do that when there are others, non-magical people, around me.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense, Tsarinovna.” Mitya was nodding as if she had said something wise, instead of just spouted off the first piece of nonsense that had floated through her head. Even Alik was nodding reluctantly. Oleg was smiling a small smile, as if he recognized her words for what they were, but was not going to contradict them.
Don’t worry, Gray Wolf said, and by the way Mitya and Alik flinched, Dasha knew that he had spoken into their minds as well. She will be safe with me, safer than she would be anywhere else. Who would go against me?
“Just be sure you watch over her!” Mitya told him. “She’s ill, you know. She needs someone to watch over her all the time.”
Ill? She does not look ill to me.
“She has the falling sickness. Not that a beast like you would know what that is.”
I know what the falling sickness is. Humans are not the only ones who suffer it. Gray Wolf looked Dasha up and down. How often do you fall?
I don’t fall! I just twitch a bit.
Well then. Let us hope for the best. If you collapse and fall, I will carry you to the sanctuary, far faster than any of your companions could hope to. But I do not think you will fall.
I don’t think so either, said Dasha. She turned back to the others. “I’m sorry about leaving you,” she told them. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think it weren’t important. Take care of Poloska and Pyatnyshki for me, and I’ll see you in a day or two.” Saddlebag in hand, she stepped up to Gray Wolf, and before anyone could say or do anything else to try to dissuade her, she grabbed his ruff and swung herself onto his back.
***
With one bound, they were out of sight of the road, and with another, it felt to Dasha as if they were so deep in the woods that there must not be another human around for a hundred versts. Gray Wolf’s gait was smoother than that of a horse, and his body felt thinner and more flexible than a horse’s, even though he was nearly as big as Poloska. Even with no saddle or bridle, and with her saddlebag tucked under her arm, Dasha had no difficulty staying on his back as he turned this way and that, slipping between the trees faster than the fastest horse could gallop.
They climbed little rises and descended into hollows, leapt across a broad stream, and crossed a glade where a huge spruce had been struck by lightning and fallen over, leaving a clear space that let in the rays of the evening sun. Gray Wolf paused there, and Dasha thought they were going to stop there for the night, but then he sniffed and said, What do your senses tell you, little Tsarinovna?
About what?
About everything. The air, the water, the sky above us and the ground below. What do your senses tell you?
Dasha sniffed too, turning her head this way and that, trying to catch everything that she could with all her senses.
It is silent, she told him. Nothing speaks around us, no birds sing, nothing is moving.
Of course, he told her with satisfaction. All the other creatures of the forest have the wit to fear us. Well, me. They are lying low, waiting and praying for us to pass them by.
That’s not very nice!
He rolled his shoulders under her in what she thought was meant to be a shrug. It is as it is. What else do you sense? A creature of the wild must always be aware of her surroundings. Perhaps you are meant to be a deer, as seems to be your nature. I cannot say I approve, but deer are cunning and cautious prey. What else do your deer-senses tell you?
It is late. The sun is approaching the horizon.
True, but even a simple human could tell as much. What else can you sense? What does the wind tell you? What does the water say?
A breeze is rising as the sun sets. There is a storm, the storm we thought would rain on us earlier, off to the East. There is water…that way. Northeast.
Good girl. Lead me to the water. Slide off my back, and lead me to it.
Dasha obeyed. Her legs felt shaky beneath her as she took her first few steps, but they soon firmed up, and she could feel the water through them. She stopped and pulled off her boots and stockings in order to feel the water flowing through the earth more clearly.
Your tender feet will get cut, Gray Wolf warned her.
I know. I’ll be careful. It’s not far. Come, it’s this way. Eyes half-closed in order to block out everything else, Dasha let her water-sense carry her down from the ridge they had been on, towards the stream that she could now smell as well as feel. Every fiber in her body felt as if it were being pulled towards it, as if it yearned to be reunited with the water that had given birth to it.
I’m afraid that when we reach the water I’ll just dive right in, she told Gray Wolf.
And where is the harm in that? If that is what you feel, if that is what your senses tell you, then do it.
It could be dangerous! The gods alone know what could be in there. Snags…snakes…water-maidens…
Then your senses must warn you of that. Your human mind thinks too much, little Tsarinovna, it constantly chatters warnings, like a bird shrieking at me to send me away from her nest, only to have a snake slither in and steal her eggs while her back is turned. Let all this chatter fall silent, and listen to your senses.
That’s easier said than done! And sometimes the warnings are right, anyway.
But if you let yourself be deafened by the constant chatter, you will never learn to tell the difference between the true warnings, and the false. Let your senses guide you, little Tsarinovna, and obey them when they speak. That is the great lesson I mean to teach you, while you are with me.
Dasha wanted to argue more, but her whole body was thrumming with the nearness of the water now, so that she could hardly form words any more, even in her mind. She let the pull of the descent carry her down, faster and faster, till she was at the bottom of the slope and a deep stream was before her. With barely even a pause to drop her bag and boots, she let her speed carry her over the bank and straight down into the water.
“AKH!” The shock of the cold water hitting her brought her to her senses. She was waist-deep in the current, which was strong enough that she couldn’t bring her feet to the bottom, and she was having to swim constantly to avoid being swept off downstream. The bank she had plunged off of so precipitously was overhanging, and high enough that she wouldn’t be able to reach the roots hanging off of it and pull herself back to dry land. She turned and looked the other way. The far bank was much lower, and there was a swell of dry land, a sort of sandbar, coming out into the streambed that she should be able to reach in just a few swimming strokes. Gritting her teeth, she kicked
as strongly as she could and tried to launch herself in that direction.
It took even more effort than she had expected, but after a couple of failed attempts she was able to fight across the current and flop, belly-first, onto the sandbar, which was, she discovered when she landed on it, more of a peatbar.
“So much for this shirt,” she said. She pulled herself to her knees and examined the black stains currently covering her whole front. “And this sarafan. Aunty Olga isn’t going to like this. How could you let me do this!” she shouted up at Gray Wolf, who was standing on the edge of the overhanging bank and watching her with bright eyes.
Because you needed to do it.
“I did not! Now I’m soaking wet, covered in dirt, and on the far side of the stream from you. And from my food and my boots! Now what am I going to do?”
I do not know, little Tsarinovna. What are you going to do?
That was so annoying that Dasha didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that Gray Wolf was on the far side of the stream, out of reach of the kick she heartily wanted to give him. She almost kicked the unoffending ground instead, but when she imagined how that would look, she was embarrassed for even thinking of it, and stopped herself, forcing herself to turn her thoughts from the tantrum she wanted to throw, to her current situation.
“Are you going to come down here and join me?” she asked Gray Wolf.
Why should I? he replied, settling down onto his haunches, his tongue lolling out at her.
“Because I’m here by myself, that’s why!”
Are you, little Tsarinovna?
Dasha looked around again. “There’s nothing but little minnows swimming in this shallow pool over here,” she said.
Then you are not alone, little Tsarinovna.
Dasha was still too annoyed with Gray Wolf for letting her throw herself into the water, and for showing her up like that, and laughing about it—his tongue was still lolling out of the side of his mouth in a manner that looked far too much like laughter for any normal person to be able to forgive him—while she was alone, in the middle of the woods, soaking wet and without her boots.
