Dangerously Divine

by Deborah Blake

  Gregori tried to content himself with the possibility that someone might have seen Iduyan alive not so long ago, even if Their Majesties’ idea of “not so long ago” might not match that of most. He knew all too well the sometimes less positive effects of a very long life, even if his had not lasted nearly as long as those of the Queen and King. Plus, the Otherworld had its own mysterious ways of making time seem both fluid and inconsequential.

  “We shall endeavor to recall who mentioned her,” the Queen said. “And ask around the court as well. But in the meanwhile, perhaps you might inquire of your father?”

  Gregori almost dropped the delicate china cup he was holding. Hot tea slopped over the edge onto his knee. “My father?” he said, putting the cup down carefully on the table. “I was under the impression the old gods had died out. I certainly have heard nothing from my sire in centuries.” Nor was he particularly interested in doing so, since Jarilo had been seemingly indifferent to all three of his sons once they had embarked upon their destined roles as the Riders.

  “I doubt he would have any idea where my mother was, even if he does still exist,” Gregori continued. “He barely acknowledged her after she gave birth to me, as far as I know.”

  The Queen shook her head. “Jarilo and Iduyan were lovers and had a child together. You do not know as much as you think you know. Matters of the heart are complicated, even for the gods.”

  “Then I suppose I am fortunate to have avoided such things all these years,” Gregori said. There had been women, of course. Some of whom he had even been quite fond of, in his own way. But none who had ever tempted him to stay. Not that he could have, while he was still a Rider.

  The Queen and her consort exchanged meaningful glances, giving Gregori a glimpse into their private affection that was almost painful in its intensity.

  “We would have to disagree,” the Queen said. “Love is not easy, but it is well worth the having.” She winked at Barbara, who had fought hard to win the Queen’s permission to marry her Human husband, Liam. “Would you not concur, Baba Yaga?”

  “I would never be so foolish as to argue with Your Majesty,” Barbara said with a small smile. The Queen rolled her eyes, but declined to answer that blatant untruth. Besides, Gregori had seen Barbara with her sheriff, and she was clearly smitten.

  “Well, seek out your father or not, it is your choice,” the Queen said. “We shall certainly do what We can to discover if any have heard aught of your mother as you do the same on the other side. But do not take too much time about it. Whatever has prompted this imbalance in your anam, be it the Water of Life and Death, or Brenna’s ill treatment, or some heretofore hidden facet of your maternal heritage, it is unlikely to resolve itself. And We fear for your safety—and your sanity—if these incidents grow worse.”

  She reached her hand across the table and laid it briefly atop of his. “You have always been most valued by Us,” she said softly. “We know that your days are limited now, but We would not wish to lose even one of them unnecessarily. It sorrows us that We cannot assist you more. But I fear that this is a journey that only you can take, and an answer only you can find. We have full faith in your ability to do so.”

  Gregori only wished he shared their confidence. In truth, when Barbara had brought him here, he had held out hope that perhaps the Queen and King might know something that could help him. But if even the powerful rulers of the mystical Otherworld were baffled, what chance was there that he could find the answers he needed on his own, before his time ran out and his chi burned him up from the inside?

  CHAPTER 8

  WHEN they reached the doorway that led from the Otherworld back to the other side, Barbara stopped short of going through, an unhappy look on her face. Gregori glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see her and Chudo-Yudo standing still.

  “Aren’t you coming?” he said. He had been looking forward to showing her some of the possible leads he had found, setting her keen mind to work on the puzzle he had been unable to solve on his own.

  “I’m sorry, Gregori,” she said. “I can’t come back with you to Minnesota.”

  “Much as we’d love to hang out in the snow and cold,” Chudo-Yudo added.

  “Oh,” Sun said. “The Queen did say this was my journey. I understand.”

  “It’s not that,” Barbara explained. “I got a Call right before I headed out to see you. I’ll be packing the Airstream tonight when I get back and setting out first thing in the morning. I probably shouldn’t even have waited this long, but I wanted to come with you to see the Queen.”

  Baba Yagas were sometimes summoned to tasks by what they referred to as the Call. Usually not a literal message (although that happened, too, from time to time), it mostly took the form of a strong gut feeling that they were needed somewhere. If Barbara said she had to go, she had to go.

  “Ah. That’s different,” he said. After all, as a Rider, he had often come to the assistance of one or another of the Babas when they ran into something on a mission that was too big or complicated for them to handle on their own. “Will Mikhail be going with you?”

  Even though they were no longer Riders, his brother had decided that there was no reason he couldn’t occasionally be of service. After all, he was still stronger and tougher than most Humans, even when he wasn’t turning into the strange creature that had been his unexpected gift.

  “Not this time,” Chudo-Yudo said. “The baby has colic. I don’t know what that is, but it causes it to be very loud and very unhappy. It is not pleasant. You would think he would rather come along with us, but apparently not.” He shook his large blunt head at the foolishness of mortals. Gregori had never met a baby dragon, but he supposed that colic was not one of their issues. He had a momentary image of one with the hiccups, and shook his head to get rid of it.

  “I wish you well on your journey, then. Thank you for your help, even if it did not turn out as well as we might have hoped.”

  Barbara sighed. “I really thought the Queen might know something. I’m sorry, Sun. And I’m sorry I can’t go back with you right now. But just remember, you’re not in this alone.” She stared at him with piercing amber eyes. “You and Day and Knight may not be official Riders anymore, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still part of the family. You don’t have to try and fix this all by yourself.”

  Gregori supposed she was referring to the fact that he had gone off to a solitary corner of the Otherworld after he’d finished the major part of his physical healing. “It seemed to be for the best,” he said quietly. “We were all so broken. It was difficult to be among those who had known us when we were whole.”

  Chudo-Yudo bit his leg gently. “Those of us who knew you when you were whole were the ones who cared the least about how you had changed. I understand your brothers not realizing that, but you are supposed to be the smart one.”

  “Take your teeth out of his pants, you twit,” Barbara said, scowling. “If that’s the way you’re going to show affection, it’s little wonder he stays away.” She gave Gregori a gentle pat on the shoulder as if to take the sting out of her words.

  “I know it seems as if everything has changed, but sometimes change can be good. Liam taught me that,” she said. “He also taught me that being with others can have unanticipated rewards.” She gave Gregori a small smile. “Now that you’re going to be living among Humans, you might want to consider making a friend or two. Not being so isolated.”

  Gregori shook his head. This was really something, coming from a woman who had spent almost her entire long life traveling in a magical hut disguised as an Airstream trailer, with only a dragon-dog for company.

  “So you are trying to tell me you have actually made friends with some of the locals in that small town of yours?” he asked in a dubious tone.

  “I’m working on it,” she said. “There’s a woman who runs the local diner who happens to think I’m quite nice.”<
br />
  “Nice?” Gregori adored Barbara, but that was hardly the first word that usually came to mind when he was asked to describe her. Cranky, maybe. Nice? Well, perhaps since she’d found love. He suppressed a shudder. There was such a thing as too much change.

  Chudo-Yudo snorted, almost setting a nearby sprite on fire as it flitted by. “By nice, I think she means, ‘Not quite as scary as she used to be.’”

  Ah. That was more like the Barbara he knew and loved.

  “Hey,” she said. “I haven’t threatened to turn anyone into a toad in months. Well, weeks. I’m mellowing.” She shook her head. “Anyway, my point is, you left everyone you knew behind you, then chose to shut yourself up in a monastery where you could spend all your time staring at the insides of your eyelids and not talking to anyone. I’m just suggesting you might want to consider making a friend. I know you have a difficult journey ahead of you, but it might be a little less arduous if you didn’t try to go it alone.”

  Gregori bowed, hands in front of his heart. “I will certainly think on it, Baba Yaga, and I thank you for your concern.” He nodded at Chudo-Yudo and turned to walk through the doorway, heading back to reality and whatever it was that awaited him there.

  As the mists began to swirl around him, he heard Barbara’s parting words follow him out.

  “I hear librarians are very friendly.”

  He sighed and kept on walking.

  • • •

  THE icy snap of the cold air hit his bare face when he came out of the Wabasha Street Caves. A glance at the sun overhead told him that it was time for the late-morning meditation session; the library would have to wait.

  The various meditation sessions scheduled throughout the day, including the one at five thirty in the morning, were required for the monks and optional but recommended for the resident novices. They were sometimes attended by interested community members as well, so Gregori was not surprised to see most of the places filled by the time he arrived and folded himself into a lotus position on a cushion in the back of the room.

  Gradually, the quiet of the room seeped into his bones, the background noises of the occasional cough or rustling fabric when one of the less disciplined students shifted position falling away from his consciousness. The pungent scent of incense floated past, and his breathing deepened as he sank closer to the trance state he was attempting to recapture.

  In the old days, he could have entered this altered state as easily as most people turned on a television, but since his torture and near death, its blessed peace eluded him. Today, it seemed almost possible he might finally do it; he could feel his breathing and heart rate slow, his restless thoughts floating weightlessly away . . . calm . . . centered . . .

  And then, behind his closed eyelids, there was a sudden wash of white, a picture of snowflakes, fat and vicious, drifting down in curtains of frozen water, drowning a city seen only dimly through their relentless opaque onslaught. Red rivers of blood ran through the snow-covered streets, chasing men, women, and children, who ran with mindless futility, only to be overtaken in midstep as they fled. Faint screams could be heard, as if he watched from far away, unable to act or prevent the slaughter, and he could feel the sweat gathering in tiny sour beads on his skin, his heartbeat racing with the need to move, to run, whether toward or away he could not say.

  Gregori’s eyes sprang open, and he nearly toppled off his zabuton. His chest felt as though there were an iron band around it, and his vision swam as he tried to slow his ragged breathing. One cotton sleeve swept across his face and came away wet with perspiration. Thankful for his position at the rear of the room, he finally pulled himself together enough to drag himself to his feet and out onto the narrow shoveled path that ran between the meditation room and the dormitories. The cold air felt like a benediction on his overheated skin, and the clean breeze swept away the last of the horrifying vision.

  But he knew it would haunt him, just as the few similar visions he’d had previously crept about at the back of his mind, pushing the elusive peace he sought even farther away. For a moment, he leaned his head against the brick wall; it felt as though the barriers he battled were just as immovable, just as real. And he seemed no more likely to break through them than he was to suddenly develop the ability to walk through this wall.

  Finally, he took a shuddering breath and pulled his shoulders back, standing up straight. If he could not meditate, he would sweep floors or carry firewood. And then he would go back to the library and search some more. The answers were out there and he was going to find them. The alternative was too appalling to contemplate.

  • • •

  CIERA glanced up from her work to see Gregori crossing the floor, moving in her direction. She seemed to have developed almost a sixth sense for when he was nearby; she would have said it was merely caution, if not for the extra little blip her heart gave every time, one that couldn’t quite be explained away by anything so rational as fear. She was careful to maintain her cool exterior, though. Her treacherous and inexplicable attraction to the man was nobody’s business, and could easily become a weakness to be exploited. She’d learned long ago that the only way to survive was to have as few weaknesses as possible, and fewer people who knew what they were.

  So she adjusted her features into their usual friendly-but-impersonal lines . . . which lasted until she took a good look at him. Even from halfway across the room, she could tell that something wasn’t right. As he drew closer, she could see the pallor under his normally tan skin, and lines of strain around his eyes and mouth. Even his gait seemed slightly less effortlessly graceful than usual.

  She half rose from her seat, then sat back down and forced herself to stare at her paperwork until he actually stood in front of her. She hadn’t spent all these years building up this mask she hid behind only to toss it away now on some man she barely knew.

  “Afternoon,” she said, pushing her glasses up with one finger. She didn’t need them, but they fit the librarian image so well, and gave her another layer between herself and the rest of the world—especially handy at moments like this. She hesitated. “Um, are you okay? There’s a nasty flu bug going around campus. And I have to say, you look a little rough around the edges.”

  Gregori gave her a flickering smile, like a lightbulb going on and off. “I assure you, I am not ill. But thank you for your concern.”

  Ciera shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to give me the plague,” she lied. “So, what can I get for you today?”

  He held out another short list written in elegant script. She glanced down at it, then back up at him. “Huh. Magical healers who were known for the laying on of hands. Energy healing techniques. Research on precognition.” Ciera blinked. “What does all this have to do with your search for a mythological Mongolian shamaness?”

  Gregori just stared at her, dark eyes deep with mystery.

  She shook her head. “Never mind. None of my business. I’ll see what I can dig up for you.” She rustled through the stacks on her desk until she found a folder with his name on it.

  “Speaking of which, I turned up something interesting earlier. In one of the books in the special collections room, I found a reference to a Shangri-la-like community that supposedly existed in Russia during the time of the tsars, but then disappeared when the revolution came. It was just a brief mention, but it caught my eye because the original source of the report was the journal of a high-ranking soldier who claimed that he had stumbled onto a tiny village hidden deep in the Siberian mountains.”

  Gregori perked up, a little more color flowing into his face. “That is interesting. Did this soldier say where in Siberia it was?”

  “Not precisely,” Ciera said. “Apparently, he’d gotten thrown by his horse while out hunting, and didn’t find the place until he was on the verge of death from his injuries and exposure. In his account, he said he was healed by a magical wise woman who
seemed to be in charge and was then blindfolded and taken to a crossroads, where he was eventually found and returned to his unit. He says he spent months trying to find his way back to the village, until he was finally convinced to give up the search.”

  She gave Sun a small smile. “Reading between the lines, it is clear that everyone else thought he’d either made it up or hallucinated the entire episode.”

  “Perhaps he did,” Gregori said. A little of the light went out of his face.

  Ciera’s smile widened. “I might have assumed that, too, except for one intriguing tidbit.”

  He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

  “In his journal, the soldier calls the woman who healed him Idan. I realize it isn’t quite the same thing as Iduyan, but it is awfully close. And spelling is often erratic in old accounts.” She handed Gregori the folder containing copies she’d made of the pertinent pages, plus the name and location of the book she’d found them in. “I thought it might be worth mentioning.”

  “Indeed,” Gregori said, the spark returning to his eyes. “It may well be the best news I have had all day.”

  “Huh. It can’t have been a very good day, then,” Ciera said. Maybe that was why he seemed so depressed and discouraged. A sudden impulse seized her and words spilled out of her mouth before she could clamp her lips tight enough to stop them.

  “Would you like to come over for dinner?” she asked him.

  “What?” he said, sounding as shocked to hear the invitation as she had been to give it.

  “I uh, I bought the ingredients to make a traditional Russian meal,” she stammered, appalled at herself, but not knowing how to backtrack now that the suggestion hung in the air between them. “I guess I got inspired by all the Russian research I was doing for you. There’s more than enough for two, and maybe it would cheer you up if you’ve had a tough day. It’s the least I could do to say thank you for your help with the kids at the shelter.”