Moonflower

by Angela J. Townsend

  “Natasha?” a voice said. Someone was shaking me. “Natasha, are you all right?”

  I sat upright, rubbing my eyes, Mila was standing over me with her long, dark hair a cloud of silky black. I shielded my eyes from the light and sat propped up on one elbow. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I rubbed my eyes. “Where have you been?”

  “Nickoli and I have been guarding the mural. We all take turns. I came home to grab a few things and then I have to head back. You were moaning in your sleep. I figured you were dreaming but I thought I better check on you—just in case.”

  I blinked away the sleep tugging at my eyes. Mila was dressed in a heavy sweatshirt and pants.

  “Try to get some rest. I’ll leave this light on for you. I have to head back. See you in the morning.”

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up. “Wait a sec.”

  Mila turned back around.

  “You guys have been guarding that creepy mural?”

  Mila nodded. “No biggie, we thought we’d take turns until it’s completed. I’ll be here in the morning to help you guys gather more supplies for tomorrow. But for now, I really have to get back to Nickoli. He didn’t have any dinner and I’m packing him some sandwiches and something to drink.” She lowered her voice. “He’s cute but he gets cranky when he’s hungry.”

  “Be careful,” I said.

  Mila hurried out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  In the dim light, my gaze flitted about the room, not settling on any one thing. I could not stop worrying about Mila and Nick having to stay in that horrible place. At whatever cost, I had to work fast and complete that painting so we could all move forward with our lives.

  I lay there the rest of the night afraid to sleep, tossing and turning. How exactly would I tell Mila about Chuck and what had happened to him? An image of the mural and all those terrible creatures crept into my mind. What if I couldn’t repair it? What if something horrible escaped and killed us? A thousand racing thoughts galloped through my mind.

  But what froze in my brain the most was Anatoly’s devastating smile. The way his eyes roamed over me, teased me, the muscles rippling under his shirt, his commanding air of self- confidence.

  Anatoly wove in and out of my mind as I fought drifting back to sleep.

  Part of me knew I was dreaming, but I was too exhausted to force myself awake. It might have been easier if it was the same old nightmare. But it wasn’t. I'd been running for hours, desperately searching for a way out of the catacombs surrounding the mural. So many dead ends. So many twists and turns. So many howls and screams chasing after me.

  “Anatoly!” I yelled.

  He told me to run, that he'd buy me time and catch up. I thought I knew the way...my breath caught in my throat as grinding stone echoed through the caves, skeleton warriors rose from their graves to do Koschei’s bidding. “Anatoly!” He'd never find me in time.

  Boulders fell around me, crashing at my feet, sealing me into a grave of my own. I fought the icy bones grabbing my arms and screamed for Anatoly again.

  I heard his voice. I fought harder. He's alive! Maybe we could survive and try again!

  But the skeletons—I couldn't breathe. Where was he? He was strong. He should be able to get through the cave-in, shouldn't he? I could barely say his name in the crushing darkness.

  “Here!” he said. “I am here!”

  Was it possible? I opened my eyes to find the skeletons, but they were gone.

  I was in Mila's room. Light filtered through the sheer curtains and Anatoly...he'd pulled me into his lap and had his thick arms around me. I clung to him with all my strength, my breath coming in short ragged bursts. “I didn't think you'd made it.”

  His arms tightened as he drew me in closer. “Shhhh.” He whispered into my ear. “It is just dream. You are safe in my arms. No harm will come to you.”

  “But, there were skeletons and….”

  I glanced at Mila's personal things scattered about the room. Definitely not a dead-end cave. A choked whisper came out of my mouth, maybe a sigh of relief. “I'm so sorry.”

  I let go and tried to get out of his lap, suddenly aware of my nightclothes.

  “I do not mind.” He looked uncomfortable, released me and got to his feet. His gaze drifted away from mine.

  At least we were both embarrassed, a small comfort. “What are you doing here?”

  “You called for me. I came to help.”

  “Oh.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and tried not to imagine how messed up it must be. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean...I guess I—”

  “I am happy you called. It is my duty."

  “Oh. Right.” Just a job. Duty. I pulled the bed quilt up to my neck. “If you don't mind, I need to get dressed.”

  He leaned over me, pulled my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “It is my desire to keep you safe. Even from dreams.”

  Blood rushed through my veins like an awakened river. “I'm...glad.” He must have caught something in my eyes, the way I looked up at him. He leaned closer, his lips inches from mine, then his features hardened. He straightened and headed for the door.

  “Hurry and get dressed,” he said. “We eat breakfast. Then we go.”

  I climbed out of bed and slipped on my jeans and a Harley tank-top Chuck had given me. The purple diamond studded fabric stretched over my chest and I wore a long-sleeved shirt I tied at my waist over the top.

  A few minutes later Mila came into the room, her face puffy and her eyes ringed with dark circles. She eyed my outfit. “You’ll need to dress warmer than that. We almost froze to death last night.” She went to her dresser and pulled out two thick sweaters, she tossed me one. “It’s not fashionable, but it’s warm.”

  I pulled on the plain brown cardigan and ran a brush through my hair, then grabbed my makeup bag out of my suitcase. I applied powder, blush, and eyeliner and topped it all off with a spritz of perfume.

  Mila sat on the edge of my bed. She raised her eyebrows. “You like him—don’t you?”

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  For some reason, she seemed concerned, uneasy.

  “Okay, you got me—but is it that obvious?”

  Mila’s face darkened. “Natasha.” A sigh crept past her lips. “There’s something you need to know.” She clasped her slender hands together and stared at them.

  “What is it?”

  She looked up, her expression a mask of stone. “Bogatyrs are forbidden to have relationships with those they guard. You and Anatoly can never be together…as a couple, I mean.”

  “What?” I stared into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “It weakens your protection and we can’t risk it—plus it puts everyone in terrible danger.”

  I struggled to swallow a lump lingering in my throat. “But he’s only guarding me for a week or so. Then things can be different, right?”

  “You’re the only one left, Natasha. Think about it…he’s guarding you for life.”

  I swallowed hard. Was she saying I’d be stuck here the rest of my life?

  I crossed my arms, wrapping myself in a cocoon of disappointment. A heaviness sank deep inside my chest. I knew it was too good to be true. And worse yet, it seemed my fate was to spend the rest of my life alone, taking care of that horrible painting in an empty village in the middle of nowhere.

  “Anatoly told me what happened with the painting yesterday.” Mila shuddered. “Sorry you had to find out that way. It must have been horrible, being attacked like that.”

  I nodded. “I should have listened to Anatoly, but it just seemed so farfetched, it was hard to believe.”

  Mila looked away. “When we were in the cemetery earlier that day, a vision came to me. I knew something was going to happen with the mural to make you believe. I saw that you’d be okay. I wanted to warn you beforehand, but you wouldn’t have believed me. Sometimes we need to see things with our own eyes before we believe them.” She smiled. “Don’t feel bad for what happe
ned. You had to prove to yourself that it was real. Now you know for sure that it is.”

  “You’re right. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.” I shuddered and wrapped my arms around myself. “I hate the idea of going back there. But at least I have a plan now. ” I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. “I made a map of the mural and then broke it into sections. I couldn’t remember all the horrible creatures, but I remembered approximate size.”

  “Great idea. And I have something I think will help you and it should work really well with your plan.” Mila went to her dresser and pulled open a top drawer. She reached inside and pulled out a massive leather-bound book. It was old and stitched together with thick thread at the spine. She sat beside me and ran her hand over the cover. This is called The Book of Temnota or Book of Darkness in English. This book contains a list of all the creatures trapped in the mural and how to deal with them.”

  I sat upright. “Wow, that’s incredible. Where did you get it?”

  My ancestor was Alyosha Popovich, a Bogatyr and powerful priest. I’ve inherited his abilities to see and know things that others can’t. He made this book and guarded it with his life before passing it down through many generations to me.”

  “Anatoly showed me his statue along with the others. It must be so cool being related to him.”

  Mila nodded. “Cool, yet hard at times. Being gifted means being different and that’s not always easy.” She ran her hand across the face of the book. “In ancient times, Alyosha made this book so that future artists would know what they were dealing with. It is a collection of horrifying creatures who belonged to Koschei and did his evil bidding. They will do anything to escape the mural. I know in some ways it will make things harder for you, but you have to know what you are dealing with. Show me where you are going to start tomorrow and we’ll study those creatures first.”

  I unfolded the sketch of the mural and smoothed the crinkly paper flat. I pointed to a large section on the left side. She frowned and flipped through the book then placed it on my lap. It was heavier than it looked and the pages were yellowed and made of starched linen. A leather-waxy smell rose from the parchment pages as if it had spent years secreted away in a candle-lit library.

  “The first creature you have to deal with is this one.” She tapped at a picture of an imp. It stood on spindly legs with claw-like hands and a head too big for its body. I wondered how its scrawny neck held it upright. The face was indescribable, horrifying, long and misshapen with pointed teeth and haunting black eyes.

  “This is the Drekavac.” Her voice lowered. “Many claim it is a creature made from the souls of children who had died un-baptized—but in reality it is a creature that never was human. It’s the demon offspring of the Baba Yaga—the most powerful of all Russian witches. It has a terrifying yell that can cripple a human with its shrieks.” She pointed to the sketch. “It’s nocturnal so it lurks at the bottom of the mural where it is darkest. You must beware not to let its shadow cross you. If it does, it will mean your death.”

  “So, what do I do if it escapes?”

  Mila shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think the best thing to do is to work quickly so that it doesn’t have a chance to get out.”

  I shivered as she turned to the next page. A hideous crone with a pointed nose, long sharp teeth, and beady rat eyes stared back at me. The creature’s hair was sparse and hung in long, thin strands that framed its wrinkled face.

  Mila ran her hand over the hag's face. “Have you ever heard of the Nocnistsa?” Mila asked.

  “No, and thank goodness. She’s horrible looking.”

  Mila nodded. “She is as evil as she is ugly. The Nocnistsa is a night hag. She used to come to our village at the stroke of midnight to torment people. She’d turn to vapor and enter through a slit or crack, even a keyhole. She’d sneak into a victim’s bedroom at night, sit on their chests, wrap her cold hands around their necks, and steal their breath. Most people wake before she gets close because she reeks of moss and dirt from the forest from where she came. Her smell will linger for days after she has visited. She is most dangerous to those who suffer from depression and sadness because she feeds off sorrow and despair.”

  I stared at the image in the book. It was frightening to think that such a creature could be real. Something out of a child’s worst nightmare. “Okay, just so you know, I’m sleeping with the nightlight on from here on out.”

  Mila laughed. “If only it were so simple.” She pulled a leather pouch from her pocket. She loosened the drawstring. Inside were all kinds of objects: crosses, stems of herbs, vials of holy water, cards of Russian Saints. She withdrew a small, round stone with a hole in the middle of it. She grabbed my hand and placed the white rock in the center of my palm and squeezed my fingers around it. “Keep this holy stone close to you while you are restoring the picture of the hag.”

  I opened my hand and rolled the stone around my palm, examining it.

  “It comes from the tomb of Saint George the Dragon Slayer, one of the greatest Russian Saints of all times. He battled demons and creatures of all kinds in the 4th century. It is said that he was the only human the Nocnistsa feared. So this stone is a powerful shield against her evil. It will protect you, if she escapes. Let’s hope she doesn’t.”

  “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever held anything this ancient.” I rolled the stone in the palm of my hand and carefully slipped it into the front pocket of my jeans. I nodded to the book. “This book is huge, there’re so many creatures—it’s overwhelming.”

  “Don’t let it intimidate you. It’s divided into different sections. Only this first half is about the creatures. The rest is history and how to deal with them. We’ll only study the demons in the section you will be restoring each day, otherwise it will get overwhelming. We’ll review and prepare as much as we can the night before.”

  Mila pointed to the right-hand section of my sketch. “Thankfully, in this section there are only three demons to deal with. They will know you are coming. They will sense the threat at the moment of your arrival, and prepare to escape as they know it is their one last chance for freedom. They will do anything to distract you.”

  “You said three creatures, but you’ve only mentioned two. So what else do I have to look forward to tackling?”

  Mila turned another page and tapped a picture of a dark shadow of a creature with horns on its head and something gory and bloody on its feet. “The Stuhac lived high in the mountains in barren, uninhabited areas. It wore clusters of human ligaments on its legs so that it wouldn’t slip on mountain precipices. If its clusters broke, it used to come to the villages to pull ligaments from a human’s legs to make new ones.”

  “Gross!”

  “The Stuhac fears fire, so keep the torch near and it should stay back. Just remember all of these creatures can be killed if they escape or banished in some way—except Koschei. All others pale in comparison to him. He is the darkness that controls them all. We must keep him trapped.”

  We flipped through several other creatures: Imps, birds, monsters of all shapes and sizes with various degrees of evil. Mila shut the book. My stomach flipped. Could I do this? Could I face such horrifying creatures?

  “Are you okay, Natasha? I know it’s a lot to take in.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re psychic right? So tell me what will happen today so I don’t have to worry.”

  “I wish I knew, but visions don’t come to me freely and the future is always shifting. Plus it feels like there’s something blocking me, like a wall between us. Whatever it is, it’s coming from within you. It feels like your hiding something from me.” Her eyes softened. She reached for my hand. “Maybe if you told me what it was…things would be better for you. It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

  I stared at the hardwood floor. How could I tell her that I was the one responsible for her father’s death?

  I cleared my throat, fidgeting in my seat. “I feel so terr
ible for not telling you before…it’s just that…it’s really horrible. I wasn’t sure how you would react.” I looked into her eyes. “If situations were reversed I’d be so mad…I couldn’t even imagine.”

  “It’s okay, Natasha. Just tell me.”

  My mouth felt like old paper, dry and dusty. I swallowed hard. “Promise you won’t hate me?”

  She crossed her heart. “I promise.”

  Should I just blurt it out? Tell her the truth and get it over with?

  “Because of me, Chuck, I mean your dad….” My throat clogged. Tears pooled and spilled from my eyes. “I really loved him…like a father. He was good to me and…because of me…he’s dead.”

  Mila’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Your dad is dead, Mila. He died because he was trying to comfort me. He was dating, or pretending to date, my foster mom in order to get me here.”

  Mila pulled a locket from her chest. She snapped it open. Inside was a picture of her sitting on Chuck’s lap with a Christmas tree in the background. “Is this who you are talking about?”

  I stared at the tiny picture. I didn’t want it to be true. But there was no denying the man in the picture was Chuck. I closed my eyes and nodded.

  Mila snapped the locket closed and turned away from me. I got up and touched her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, please believe me.”

  She turned around to face me. Tears trembled on her eyelids. “I knew he was dead. I didn’t want to admit it, though. Sometimes being gifted can be complicated—painful.”

  “He loved you, Mila. I know that for a fact.”

  “He told you?”

  I nodded.

  “What else did he say…about me, I mean?”

  “He said we were both moonflowers.”

  “Moonflowers, why?”

  “Because moonflowers only bloom at night.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I guess because I used to roam the streets at night. I don’t like to sleep at night. But I don’t know about you….”

  Mila smiled. “I was always sneaking off at night to play with Nickoli. My mother hated him. We were nine at the time. Night was the only time we could be together. Roaming the village at night when my mother was sleeping. My father used to come find me—drag me home. My mother dumped my dad and ran off to live in town. She hated it here. When I told her I wanted to stay with him, she had him framed and he had to leave the country.” She wiped a tear streaming down her cheek. “I really wanted another chance to see him. Guess it wasn’t meant to be. When my mother found out about my abilities, she didn’t want anything to do with me. Thank Goodness. She thought I was evil and wanted to avoid scandal so she let me return here.”