by E. P. Clark
“And if I don’t? Do your visions tell you what would happen then?”
“No they…yes they do.” Dasha had to close her eyes to allow herself to see the visions that were hovering insistently around her. “They do.” She reopened her eyes. “I saw…if you don’t go after them, then they’ll take those boys, and more will come after them. More will come after them anyway, but if you send a rescue party, it is likely that you will be able to bring the boys back, and perhaps make similar raids less attractive to others. But you already knew that. And you are right: it is likely that some will die if you do this. But you knew that already too. Are you asking me whether you should arm this army you are recruiting, and go after the foreigners in numbers?”
Vladya nodded.
“Then I…all I have are faint visions, impressions…I do not have a good feeling about it. It also strikes me as a dark path, leading the gods alone know where. What would you do? All I see are your soldiers running around, chasing foreigners, and failing to stop them. Oh, they’d stop some, but they wouldn’t be able to do anything about the reasons why these foreigners are invading our lands, and…Severnolesnoye is large, and I’m sure you can raise a large army, but it wouldn’t be enough. The only province that could raise a large enough army would be the steppe, and they’re off to the East. When I feel for the future, all I can sense is that there are many things we could do that would be wrong. Raising armies is not the solution, I think, or at least not the whole solution, even if it seems so at the moment. I think you should go to Pristanograd, Vladya, and meet with my mother, and with the foreign delegations that may be there to treat with her. That feels to me like the solution most likely to give a good outcome.”
“So I should abandon the army, then? Disband it?”
“No…I don’t have a good feeling about these armies, Vladya, I don’t, but…I feel it would not be a bad thing to have them on the ready, or at least the threat of them on the ready, when we go to Pristanograd. I just don’t think that using them right now will lead to anything good, and they…bother me. I mislike the idea of having large armies just standing around doing nothing. If nothing else, I think we will be tempted to use them just because we have them. But that is a problem for the future. Come to Pristanograd, Vladya, and don’t go fighting enemies you can’t see. When I think of you coming to Pristanograd I…I don’t exactly see anything, but I get a better feeling than when I think of any other possibility.”
“Well.” The bleeding had finally stopped, and Vladya released her thumb from her shirtsleeve. “That’s decided, then. I’ll go to Pristanograd, just as I said I would. I just…something dark is waiting for us there, Dasha, I can feel it.”
“I feel it too,” said Dasha. “But I think it would be worse if we didn’t go.”
“Vladya!” Vasilisa Vasilisovna came bursting into the chamber, followed by Aunty Olga and Oleg. “I just heard! Another raid! Children stolen! And you didn’t even tell me!”
“I’m telling you now,” said Vladya. “Mstislav Mayevich is gathering a rescue party to go after them as we speak.”
“Oh Vladya! It’s so awful! Those poor children! Their poor mothers!”
“Yes,” said Vladya coolly. She had shed all her earlier childishness, and now looked older than her mother. “It is awful. That’s why I’m sending a rescue party after them. I was just consulting with the Tsarinovna over whether it would be advisable to send out larger parties as well, to try to intercept as many of these foreigners as we can. I thought perhaps to stay behind, and not go to Pristanograd to meet with the Tsarina. But the Tsarinovna has convinced me to join her on her journey there.”
“Oh Vladya! Oh, well…I wish you didn’t have to go…but I don’t want you waging war here either…but what will I do without you?”
“Rule,” said Vladya, an unpleasant twist to her mouth. “As best you can. I will leave Mstislav Mayevich to advise you: he’s the best we’ve got now. And since it seems we are to go, I was thinking that we should leave tomorrow.”
“Best not to wait,” agreed Aunty Olga, a little too eagerly, Dasha thought. It was obvious that she was keen to leave Lesnograd as soon as possible.
“Dasha should rest, at least for a day,” Oleg said. “And so should our horses. We can’t set off tomorrow. The day after tomorrow at the earliest. And…are any of you even packed?”
“It doesn’t take me long,” said Aunty Olga, at the same time as Vladya said, “How long could it take?”
“I know it doesn’t take you long, Olya, but it will take the others longer than they think it will,” said Oleg, giving Vladya a hard look. “Especially if you have the rescue party to send off first. And I insist that Apraksiya Bozhenovna examine Dasha before we go anywhere.”
“Oh, of course! How are you feeling, Dasha?” Aunty Olga reached over and placed her hand on Dasha’s forehead as if she suspected a chill.
“Fine.” Dasha resisted the urge to shake Aunty Olga’s hand off of her head. It would hurt Aunty Olga’s feelings, and gain her nothing. “In fact, better than before. You see…”
“I’ll have Apraksiya Bozhenovna sent up directly,” said Vladya, interrupting Dasha’s story before she could tell them that she seemed to have been cured of the falling sickness, if she’d ever had it. “Dasha should go wait for her in her chamber, and try to rest, while the rest of us make our preparations.” And Dasha was hustled off before she could protest, or tell Vladya that she had much to inform her of her time at the sanctuary, or any of the other things that the others should have been interested in, but couldn’t seem to pay attention to long enough to even find out what it was that they should know.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Apraksiya Bozhenovna came into Dasha’s chamber directly after Dasha had entered it herself. She, at least, listened to Dasha’s tale, her face thoughtful, especially when Dasha came to the part about Sister Galina saying that she had detected no signs of the falling sickness when she had examined Dasha’s head.
“Permit me, Tsarinovna,” said Apraksiya Bozhenovna, when Dasha was finished, and placed her hands on Dasha’s temples. As before, Dasha felt a pleasant warmth spread out from her hands, and aches she hadn’t even known she’d had disappeared under their touch. Apraksiya Bozhenovna held her head like that for a long time, before withdrawing her hands and saying, “I sense the same as Sister Galina. The energy flows in your head are strong, stronger than normal, but they do not feel disturbed, as they do with someone with the falling sickness.”
“So I’m cured?” asked Dasha.
Apraksiya Bozhenovna frowned. “I would not go so far, Tsarinovna,” she said. “More likely that you are cured for the moment. If something were to happen—another blow to the head, an illness, an upsetting event—you could develop the sickness again. You will have to be careful.”
“Don’t tell my father that!” said Dasha. “Or Aunty Olga—Olga Vasilisovna. They’ll lock me away and never let me out again.”
Apraksiya Bozhenovna frowned some more, but there was a smile behind the frown. “They need to know, Tsarinovna,” she said. “They only have your best interests at heart. They can help you”—she saw Dasha’s expression, and amended that to, “perhaps they can help you avoid bringing it back.”
“How long will I have to worry about it?” asked Dasha.
“Your whole life, Tsarinovna, most likely.”
Dasha groaned. She wanted to say that it wasn’t fair, but stopped herself just in time. Of course it wasn’t fair, but that wasn’t the point, was it? Instead she asked, “Is there anything I can do to make it better? Other than treating myself like I’m made of fragile glass, that is.”
“In your case, Tsarinovna, I would recommend training your gifts. Your sickness and your gifts seem to be linked. It is not uncommon. Anything that disturbs the flow of energy through the body has the potential to cause illness. Gifts are the ability to use that energy—which also means the ability to disrupt it. Once you are able to control your gifts, you
will likely be in less danger of falling into fits.”
Dasha wanted to complain that learning how to control her gifts was turning out to be even more frustratingly difficult for her than it was in general, and might take her years to do so, if she ever managed it at all, and that none of this was fair, but once again she managed to stop herself just in time. “Thank you,” she said instead. “That is no more than I had already guessed.” She tried to smile, although she thought it probably came out as more of a grimace. “I suppose I have much work ahead of me.”
“Very likely, Tsarinovna. If you need me for anything, send for me right away.” Apraksiya Bozhenovna rose and, with a bow and a kind smile, left.
No sooner had she left than Susanna came bursting into the chamber, followed more circumspectly by Svetochka. “You are back!” cried Susanna. “Is it true? We hear so many stories about you! Is it true that you saw spirits, and gods, and all kinds of strange things?”
“Yes,” said Dasha.
“What a pity that we did not come with you! It has been very boring here, has it not, Svetochka? All we did was go riding around the city, which is not very nice, and try to avoid Vladislava Vasilisovna. She is not very nice, is she, Svetochka?”
Svetochka shook her head, looking down at the floor.
“But we will be leaving soon for Pristanograd, thank the gods! I am so tired of this Northern city. Only they say Pristanograd is not any better.”
“It has the sea,” Dasha said.
“Yes.” Susanna wrinkled her nose. “A cold sea, no doubt, not like our Southern sea.”
“You’ve been to the sea? What was it like?”
“Like a giant lake, only salty, and with lots of waves,” Susanna told her. “Not very good for swimming in. Tell us about the spirits!”
“Do you think we could steam while we talk?” asked Dasha. “I had a long ride today.” Now that she had been sitting and doing nothing, the fifty-verst ride of the day, coming on the heels of everything else that had happened, was making itself felt even more strongly than it had in the Great Hall, and she felt grimy and sore and in need of a long nap. She didn’t want to admit to the last two, in case someone took it into their head to force her to take that nap and miss out on whatever else was going to happen today, but taking a steam would, she thought, be safe enough, and if she did it with Susanna and Svetochka, it was unlikely that the domoviye would bother her. Although maybe they would leave her alone forever now? Unlikely. They had told her to call for them again, and, just as in tales and stories, the third time would pay for all.
Susanna stuck her head out the door and shouted down the corridor for a serving girl, and gave her orders to prepare the bathhouse when she appeared.
“These Lesnograd serving girls are not very polite,” she said when she brought her head back into the chamber. “She gave me such a rude look! And sometimes they do not do what I ask at all. They do not like Southerners here. One of them even told me. I told her we do not like Zemnians in Avkhazovskoye, either, and then they became even ruder.”
“Oh,” said Dasha. “How surprising.” Then she was afraid that Susanna would take offense, but Susanna only said, with what appeared to be perfect seriousness, “Yes, it is very bad,” before telling Svetochka they should go gather their things in preparation for their steam.
***
When they met down in the bathhouse shortly afterwards, Susanna returned to interrogating Dasha about what had happened at the sanctuary, and, when Dasha told her about it, began lamenting loudly about having missed it.
“You should have brought us with you,” she told Dasha. “Then we would not have missed all the interesting things, and we could have helped you.”
“Yes,” said Dasha, although how they would have helped her, she couldn’t figure out.
“I’m glad I missed it,” said Svetochka. “Wolves an’ water-maidens! Better to be well out of that.”
“But it would be an adventure! You should learn to love adventures, Svetochka: you will have many of them when you begin traveling with Olga Vasilisovna.”
“I don’t think I want adventures,” said Svetochka in a low voice. “An’ I don’t want to go to Pristanograd. I have a bad feeling about it.” Susanna, though, ignored that and began listing all the wonderful things she would see, as Susanna imagined them. Dasha thought about trying to say something, but couldn’t think of how to stem the flow of Susanna’s words, and so lay back on the bench and covered her face with her arm instead. Sweat was running freely from her whole body, cleansing her skin and soaking the towel beneath her. It was hard to believe that only the night before she had been bargaining with spirits and gods. She felt just the same. Except that she hadn’t had a fit all day, and even swimming in sweat as she was she didn’t feel any warning prickles. It was a good feeling, but somehow empty as well, as if something were missing, as if her fits were a part of herself that, now that they were gone, she didn’t want to give up.
Don’t talk nonsense! she admonished herself. Of course you don’t want them! You’re just being silly! Sweat was running into her eyes even though they were closed, so she turned over onto her stomach and wiped them with her towel. When she opened them afterwards, she was looking right into the corner. For a moment she could have sworn that something flashed at her, something like two glowing golden eyes. She shivered, and for a heartbeat thought she was in fact going to fall into a fit. The moment passed, as did the vision of the eyes, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
“Let’s go in,” she said. “I’ve steamed enough. It isn’t good to steam too long in summer. Let’s go see if supper is ready.”
This cheered up Svetochka, and distracted Susanna from the enumeration of all the wonderful things that Svetochka had ahead of her, none of which Svetochka seemed to want, and they all sluiced off with cold water and dried and dressed themselves and went in search of supper.
***
Vladya had declared that evening that they needed to be packed and ready to depart within two days, so the next morning Susanna and Svetochka threw themselves into their packing. Even though they had been in Lesnograd barely a week, they had managed to strew all their things all over their bedchamber, and lose half of them. Susanna bemoaned the lack of a maid, and wanted Dasha to help them with their preparations, since she herself had packed up everything she had to pack before breakfast, but Dasha, after taking one look at the disarray in their bedchamber, declared that she had an urgent errand to run, and that she would help them, of course she would, once she returned, but that might not be till the afternoon. Then she slid out of the room and rushed off, congratulating herself on her escape, since just looking at the jumble of things spread across the bedchamber made her head ache.
Seva was her guard today, and he told her when she asked that she could find Oleg in the stable, where he was inspecting the horses with Olga Vasilisovna and choosing the ones they would take with them to Pristanograd.
“Oh,” said Dasha. “Most likely he won’t want to be disturbed, then.”
“Disturb him anyway, Tsarinovna,” said Seva, grinning at her. “I dare say Olga Vasilisovna can be trusted to choose our horses, and the two of them shouldn’t be left alone too long together. The way those two quarrel, you’d never think they were brother and sister, distant as it is. Or maybe you’d never think anything else: there’s nothing like family for picking a fight.”
“Yes,” said Dasha. “Let’s go rescue him, then.”
When they arrived at the stable they found that Oleg and Aunty Olga were indeed having a disagreement over which horses to bring on the journey. It took Dasha two tries to get their attention. She had the nasty feeling that Seva was laughing at her behind her back over that, and she had to remind herself that she had faced many more terrifying things than the two of them without a qualm. Hadn’t she gone out into a group of water-maidens, and again into a pack of wolves? Not to mention the gods. But, it had to be said, none of them had ever threa
tened to laugh at her or say cutting things. Well, the gods might have. The worst the others would have done was kill her, which was somehow much more remote and unlikely than the very high likelihood of Oleg and Aunty Olga making her feel silly. But Dasha was able to persist and get their attention, and once she did, remind Oleg of his promise to take her to Sister Asya so that she could ask her to train her.
“Maybe this afternoon,” he told her when she asked.
“Go now,” Aunty Olga told him. “I’ll finish up here. These are my horses, after all.”
“Yes, but…”
“But you know the riders and the road better, or so you say. And maybe you do, but I know the road to Pristanograd well enough myself. Susanna will be bringing her own horse—thank the gods; I’ve had enough of him in my stable—and Svetochka needs to learn to ride our horses anyway, since that’s who she’ll be riding. She doesn’t have much of a gift for it, does she? But I suppose you can’t have everything. And she’s been acting very mopey lately, complaining that she doesn’t feel good and so on. Are you sure she’s our blood? She doesn’t seem much like she’s one of us. I don’t know how she made it all the way to Krasnograd on her own. And I don’t see why the gods wanted you to make her, I really don’t.”
Dasha blushed at that, but Oleg only said, “The gods work as they will.”
“And I suppose they do. Well, get on with you. Take Dasha to see this Sister Asya. Last I heard she was living on Priestess Street, the third house down, but she might have moved on. She likes to move around, does Sister Asya.”
