Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series)

by Mesick, Catherine

  "That's no problem, GM. I don't mind going out for breakfast."

  GM looked down and began to fuss with her empty teacup—an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

  "There is something else I need to ask you," she said.

  "Sure."

  "After breakfast, do you mind spending some time on your own today? We could meet up again here at the house at say, four o'clock? And then we could go shopping for a Christmas tree, if you would like."

  I was excited about the prospect of having most of the day free—I could go looking for Galina and the Leshi, and I wouldn't have to come up with any excuses to get away. I tried not to sound too eager.

  "Sure. That would be great."

  I was curious about what GM was planning to do, but I didn't want to jeopardize my own freedom by asking her too many questions—that was the quickest way to put her in a bad mood.

  GM gave me a searching look. "You truly do not mind?"

  "No, of course not. Like I said before, this is your trip too."

  GM smiled. "Thank you, Solnyshko. I will make up for my absence later on today. We will have a very good Christmas, I promise you."

  "It's okay, GM, really."

  I remembered from our last trip to Krov that there was a small row of shops nearby, and GM drove us over there to a little combined bakery-and-restaurant for breakfast.

  Our waitress was a girl not much older than myself who seemed to recognize GM. The girl said everyone in Krov recognized the Rosts.

  GM was greatly pleased at first, but our talkative waitress soon turned the conversation toward the fiery blazes that had begun to appear in the neighboring forests at night. She said that the locals had termed the blazes 'witch-fire' and believed that they were supernatural in origin.

  The girl herself agreed with local opinion and predicted with a great deal of cheerful gloom that the witch-fire would bring about disaster.

  GM grew stiff and formal and tried to shut the girl down, but she chattered on undeterred. GM and I had certainly seen some strange fires in the forest on our drive into Krov. I wondered if we had witnessed the witch-fire ourselves.

  At the end of breakfast, GM drove me back to the house, and then went in with me to give me a copy of the house key so that I could come and go, as I liked.

  She turned to leave, and then stopped and turned back, giving me a long look.

  Before we had left for Russia, GM had looked excited, eager—happy. And after we had arrived in Moscow, her excitement had only seemed to grow—I knew that she was delighted to be back in Russia.

  But as GM looked at me now, I could see signs of strain in her face and a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

  "I will see you soon, Solnyshko. Enjoy the day,"

  I thought I heard a tremor in GM's voice, but it was so slight that I might have imagined it.

  She turned away from me and left the house.

  I had the strangest feeling that GM was nervous.

  Chapter 16.

  As soon as GM had driven away, I walked back to the shops where GM and I had just had breakfast. I had noticed a bicycle shop there, and I was hoping to be able to rent a bicycle for a few days.

  It would be nice if I didn't have to walk everywhere while I tried to figure out what was going on.

  Luckily, the woman in the shop didn't mind letting me have a bicycle for several days—she said it was her slow time of year, and there wasn't much rental business at the moment.

  I thanked the woman and began my ride to Galina's house. The weather was warmer than it had been in Moscow, but it was still pretty cold, and as I rode, the breeze made me even colder.

  I rode on to the square in the center of town, which was dominated by the Mstislav mansion, once the home of the now-deceased Gleb and Timofei Mstislav. As I remembered, a tree-lined path led up to the imposing white building, which was actually quite pleasing to the eye in the winter sunlight. The last time I had seen it—on the night of Timofei Mstislav's 'surprise' ball—it had been hung with bright red banners. The banners were gone now, and the mansion's face looked clean and innocent. It appeared to be unoccupied, too. I wondered about the Mstislav family—how many of them there were, where they were—what they thought about Timofei and what he had done.

  I thought next of the Mstislav crypt that Odette had lured me to on the night of that same ball, the same crypt from which Timofei's body had recently been stolen. I had feared that that crypt would become my own final resting place.

  I moved on quickly.

  I continued on past the mansion to the vast empty expanse of desolated fields that stretched behind it. Galina had told me that a village had occupied this space once—bounded on the other side by a monastery that was now abandoned.

  And I knew all too well that a network of tunnels ran under the ground from the mansion to the monastery. I had been trapped in those tunnels once, just as I had been trapped in the Mstislav crypt. And Timofei Mstislav's father, Gleb, had almost killed William and me down in those tunnels.

  For the most part, I had only seen this part of Krov at night. Now that I looked over the empty space, locally termed the 'Wasteland,' in the daylight, I realized that it stretched far off into the distance away from the road.

  I wondered how far those underground tunnels really ran.

  Something about the Wasteland was very depressing, and I was relieved when I finally caught sight of the abandoned monastery up ahead. Beyond the monastery lay the petrified forest of the Pure Woods, so-called because of its stark white color.

  And nestled up against the edge of the woods was the house where Galina Golovnin lived with her son, Aleksandr.

  After a few minutes, I spotted the house. I pulled off the road and stood for a moment just looking at it. The house seemed quiet and watchful somehow, as if it were waiting for something.

  I told myself that that was just my imagination.

  I went up to the front door and knocked, but there was no answer. I knocked again and again, but silence reigned in the small house, and no one came to open the door.

  On impulse, I reached out and tried the doorknob.

  The door swung open at my touch.

  "Galina?" I said.

  There was still no answer.

  I pushed the door open a little further and went inside.

  "Galina? Galina, are you here? The door was open."

  There was no reply.

  I went further in.

  Galina's house was much as I remembered it—cluttered but scrupulously clean.

  I went through the whole house, but there was no sign of Galina or Aleksandr. I had no way of knowing if they had just stepped out for a moment, or if they would be gone all day.

  I went back to the kitchen to see if I could find an errand list or something like that hanging on the refrigerator. There was nothing of that nature in the kitchen, so I went to the study where Galina had first told me about my mother—an overstuffed room with a desk and a lot of books. Perhaps I would find an appointment book or a calendar in there.

  In the study, I found a pile of papers on the desk, covered in a tiny, cramped script. As the writing was in Russian, it was a bit difficult for me to decipher, but it all seemed to be hastily scribbled notes that Galina had written about a long list of towns and villages. Unfortunately, there was no hint as to where she might have gone on this particular day. I began to worry that perhaps she had gone on a long trip and would not be back for days or even weeks.

  I continued to sift through the papers, and I saw nothing that was significant to me until I caught sight of one word.

  Werdulac.

  The word was on a small scrap of paper by itself, and it had been underlined three times. I searched through the papers more carefully after that, hoping to find information about what the Werdulac was. But all I found was yet more notes about various towns and villages.

  Had Galina gone in search of the Werdulac?

  I looked around the room in resignation. I was unlikely to
find the answer to that question in here. And I figured that wherever Galina and Aleksandr had gone, they were unlikely to be home soon.

  I decided to go out into the woods and search for the Leshi.

  I was leaving a note for Galina in the kitchen, just in case she did return, when I heard a door slam.

  "Galina?" I said.

  I hurried toward the front of the house.

  No one was there.

  I opened the front door and looked around—the road in front of the house was empty.

  I went back inside.

  I was heading back to the kitchen to finish my note when I heard another sound, like some was pulling a chair back from the table.

  I froze.

  "Galina? Aleksandr?"

  There was no answer, and I was suddenly overcome by panic. I ran out of the house and plunged into the Pure Woods. I had the strangest feeling that I would be safe there—even though I knew that the woods were home to just as many dark creatures as light ones.

  At the very least, I wouldn't be trapped in the woods the way I would be inside the cramped house.

  I glanced back in the direction of Galina's house. There was no sign of anyone following me.

  All the same, I was glad I had run. I was sure that I had heard someone in the kitchen, and I'd learned it was not a good idea to ignore my instincts in a town like Krov.

  Once I was certain that there was genuinely no one pursuing me, I wandered through the woods, trying to feel the spiritual energy around me, trying to let it lead me to the Leshi. It was possible, too, that the Leshi might happen to see me while I was wandering and come to me on his own. But whatever connection I'd once had to him or to the woods, seemed to have been severed. I wandered, concentrating, but I came upon nothing, sensed nothing.

  Eventually, I had to give up—I wasn't going to find anything this way. I decided to come back later tonight to try searching the house and the woods again. Maybe Galina would come back. Or maybe I would be able to connect with the energy of the woods once the sun had gone down.

  I started back toward Galina's house.

  When I reached the house, I was struck by how peaceful it now seemed—the alert, watchful quality it had given off before was now gone.

  It appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary, empty house.

  All the same, I didn't risk going back inside, even though my note to Galina wasn't finished—I hadn't even signed it. I hoped it would be enough to make her curious. Maybe she would go into town looking to see who could have written it.

  I rode back into the center of town and decided to stop at a little café I had passed along the way for lunch.

  As I neared the café, I spotted a familiar slim figure with a long, silver braid. GM was standing in front of the café with a tall man in a black overcoat. The man had thick white hair and a handsome, weathered face. As I watched, the man took GM's hand and executed a courtly bow over it. Then he straightened and offered her a single blossom—a lavender iris.

  GM smiled, and the smile suffused her face with a youthful light. I suddenly felt like I was seeing GM as she had looked as a young girl.

  The two of them stood for a long moment, just gazing at one another.

  Then, they must have felt my eyes on them, for they both turned to look at me at the same time.

  GM looked dismayed. The man looked back at me with a good-natured, puzzled expression.

  I froze, completely unable to move or look away.

  Eventually, GM beckoned me forward, and I suddenly wished that I could disappear. But there was no way I could slip away—they had both seen me.

  Feeling a blush rising to my cheeks, I wheeled my bicycle up to them.

  "Hi, GM," I said uncertainly. "I just saw this café earlier and thought it looked like a good place for lunch."

  "We had the same idea," the man said politely. His voice was rich and full of good-humor.

  He glanced over at GM. "Am I correct in assuming that Dame Fortune has arranged a meeting I had believed impossible? Is this charming young lady your granddaughter?"

  "Yes, Maksim, this is my granddaughter, Ekaterina Wickliff," GM said. There was more than a touch of stiffness in her tone. She turned to me. "May I present Maksim Neverov?"

  "Neverov?" I said.

  Maksim took my hand and bowed over it as he had done with GM.

  "Enchanted, Miss Wickliff."

  I felt strangely light-headed. "Please just call me Katie."

  "Well, then, I insist that you call me Maksim. Would you be agreeable to joining us for lunch, Katie?"

  I glanced at GM. She seemed to be angry with both of us, but she also appeared to be resigned to her fate.

  "Yes, Katie, you should join us," she said.

  I hurried to lock up the bicycle, and then I went into the café with GM and Maksim.

  After ordering, we waited for our food in strained silence. I tried to cover up my discomfort by sipping on a glass of water.

  "I suppose I should begin with a word of explanation," Maksim said at last, addressing me and breaking the silence. "You see, I am in love with your grandmother, and I have been for many years."

  Maksim looked over at GM, and I was surprised to see a rosy glow color her face. Once again, she looked years younger—and really beautiful.

  "Maksim, you must not say such things," she said.

  Maksim turned back to me. "Your grandmother and I have not seen each other for a very long time, and I feared when she left Russia years ago that I would never see her again. Losing her was the great tragedy of my life."

  Though Maksim was looking at me, I had a feeling that he was actually talking to GM. I glanced at over at her—she was wearing an unusual expression. She seemed both pleased and uncertain—or was the second emotion shyness? It was hard for me to be sure. GM was seldom anything less than completely confident.

  Maksim continued. "As a matter of fact, I fully intended to marry your grandmother, until your grandfather got in the way."

  I looked at him in surprise. So did GM.

  Maksim looked away from both of us.

  "I see lunch has arrived," he said pleasantly.

  After the waitress had set down our food and departed, GM leaned forward.

  "Maksim, you must be careful what you say around my granddaughter," she said in a low voice. "Katie is young and impressionable."

  Amusement flickered in Maksim's eyes. "You think I may be a bad influence on young Katie here?"

  He switched his gaze to me. "Tell me, does your grandmother still drive as if she has to outrun the end of the world?"

  I couldn't help smiling a little. "Yes. That's a pretty good description, actually."

  GM looked at me in shock. "Katie!"

  "It's true," I said. "You have a desk drawer full of speeding tickets."

  "I am an excellent driver," GM said emphatically.

  "Yes, yes you are," Maksim replied. "I am merely making a point—what constitutes a bad influence to one is perfectly harmless to another. And I see nothing wrong in discussing the past—especially not if the past concerns true love."

  "Oh, Maksim," GM said.

  "So, Katie, what do you plan to do during your stay here in our humble town?"

  "GM and I were going to get a Christmas tree this afternoon."

  "How au courant of you," Maksim said. "Though it is not traditional here, the western-style Christmas with a tree has become very popular. I, myself, have never put up a tree. But Russians do love an excuse for a celebration. Our traditional Christmas is actually on January 7th, according to the old Julian calendar, and it's a much quieter day—some might to go church, but that's about it. What we really celebrate is New Year's. We have a tree then, and our Grandfather Frost comes. There is also a lot of food—and drink."

  He shot a glance at GM. "But here I must be careful what I say. I don't wish to be a bad influence."

  Suddenly a little spark of mischief leapt up within me. "Would you like to come with us?" I asked Maksi
m. "To pick out a tree today?"

  Maksim and GM both looked at me in surprise.

  "Since you've never put up a tree before," I said. "Maybe you could even help us decorate it."

  GM suddenly looked murderous.

  Maksim's good humor seemed to desert him for a moment.

  "Thank you for the invitation, Katie. But your grandmother doesn't appear to be too pleased by the prospect."

  As she looked at Maksim, GM's expression softened. "Nonsense, Maksim. We would both be happy to have you accompany us."

  Maksim gazed at GM for a long moment, as if trying to gauge her mood.

  "Thank you," he said at last. "I would be delighted."

  He turned to me once again.

  "So, Katie, what else do you have planned beyond tree-shopping and decorating?"

  I found myself at a loss for words. I could hardly tell Maksim that there was a price on my head and that I was trying to find out who was behind it. And I could hardly tell him that I was searching for information about a supernatural creature known as the Werdulac.

  My mind, however, remained firmly fixed on inappropriate topics—I couldn't even come up with a good cover story.

  "I hadn't really thought about what I was going to do," I said after a pause.

  "Well, you might enjoy the Firebird Festival," Maksim said. "That will be in two days on the 23rd. There will be a market during the day, and games for the children. And then at night there will be dancing and food and drink. As I said, we Russians love our celebrations."

  He glanced over at GM, and the flicker of amusement I'd seen in his eyes before suddenly gleamed there again.

  "Of course, if you do go out in the evenings, I must caution you to be wary of the witch-fire."

  I was instantly alert. I had remained curious about the blazes GM and I had seen on our way into Krov, and if the witch-fire was indeed something supernatural, then I needed to know about it—anything supernatural could turn out to be a threat to my life.

  "What do you know about the witch-fire?" I asked.

  "A local phenomenon of recent origin," Maksim replied. "Mysterious fires have been flaring up in the forests in and around Krov—fires that burn brightly, but somehow do not seriously burn anything. These fires began around the same time that a series of unpleasant grave robberies began here in town. The more superstitious amongst the villagers say the fires are evil spirits being summoned from realms of darkness—spirits that will use the stolen bodies to walk the earth."