by Unknown
Billi raised her bow and notched the arrow.
Thumb ring hooks around the string, and she pulls with the right as she pushes with the left. Her arms and shoulders shake under the strain. Baba Yaga is twenty yards away, holding the small girl above her, and her teeth begin to close around the girl's head.
Vasilisa screams. Billi shoots.
Chapter 43
THE ARROW FLIES.
Chapter 44
ABA YAGA STUMBLED BACK AND LIFTED HER HAND to her throat. Vasilisa fell to the ground, motionless.
The old crone coughed. It was a small weak noise, as if she were shaking a seed out of her gullet.
Her hand touched the arrow shaft jutting out just under her chin. She snapped it and tossed it to the ground, then sank to her knees. One by one the werewolves paused in battle.
The blood was flooding out of Baba Yaga's neck, great gushes with every heartbeat, spraying over Vasilisa's limp and exhausted body. The young girl blinked, awake.
Billi stumbled over the broken wall to try to reach her.
Vasilisa slowly rose and wiped the blood out of her eyes. Then she saw Baba Yaga.
"I am here, Babushka," she said.
Baba Yaga hissed as she lowered her head; blood covered most of her chest. Vasilisa reached up and stroked the monster's face, carefully drawing the broken arrow out.
Billi cautiously made her way toward them. She could hardly breathe after having been crushed under the collapsed roof, and her head swam with exhaustion and pain.
Blood formed soapy bubbles around the old crone's mouth. Baba Yaga stretched out her fingers, and Vasilisa put her hand in the Dark Goddess's.
"Vasilisa, getaway from her!" Billi dropped her bow and began to run toward them.
"Child... " said Baba Yaga. She gazed at her huge palm. Then, through the crevasses of wrinkled skin, a thin green shoot unfurled itself. Baba Yaga gasped.
The green veins spread along Baba Yaga's fingers and up her arm. Billi watched as a string of flowers sprouted across the witch's fingertips. Vasilisa kept her small hand in Baba Yaga's even as it began to transform, her skin thickening into deep wrinkled bark. Her arms turned into thick, long boughs, and her fingers burst with bright green leaves until her body was covered in lustrous foliage. Baba Yaga's black eyes flowered with purple irises. Her iron teeth closed forever, and her blood turned to moss.
A wolf crept up to the bent oak tree. It sniffed around the trunk. It whined and molded its body from wolf back into human. Others gathered around, some as wolves, some in human form. Olga was nowhere to be seen.
"My God. It's over," whispered Billi. Baba Yaga was gone. Vasilisa stumbled toward her, and they hugged. Billi bent down and cupped Vasilisa's bloody face. "We did it, Vasilisa. We—"
Koshchey strode toward them, surrounded by what remained of his army —ten or so men. The Bogatyrs had been decimated in the battle, it seemed. They stopped six or seven yards away, and Koshchey pointed his pistol at Billi.
"Give me the girl," he said.
No, not after all this. He was too far away for her to attack, and at her first move he'd put a bullet in her head. But she didn't care. "Forget it, Koshchey. You can kill me, but you won't get a dozen feet before the werewolves rip you to pieces. If they don't, the Templars certainly will."
"You have cost me too much, Templar, for me to walk away empty-handed. I have lost half my men getting here. Give me the girl. What I get from the vampires for the Spring Child will barely cover expenses."
"You will not have her." Billi's heart pounded in her chest, and hot blood began to course through her body, filling her muscles with fiery strength. The Beast Within sensed victory.
Koshchey gazed at her, then at the werewolves gathered around him. Nobody would come out of this a clear victor. The bloodbath wasn't over yet.
Koshchey nodded. "You are right, Templar." He raised his pistol. "But if I can't have her, no one can." A shot rang out, and Billi gasped. Vasilisa let go of Billi and put a hand to her chest. She looked quietly surprised. A red spot grew on her white smock. She tilted away and fell.
Koshchey fired once more, and Vasilisa twitched. Then stopped.
"She's all yours," he said.
Chapter 45
What?
What?
Billi stared at Vasilisa. Then at Koshchey.
What?
A deep, threatening growl rumbled in her throat as she stood and turned toward him. Koshchey backed away into the protective circle of his Bogatyrs.
"Do not try it, little Templar."
Billi stepped forward. It really didn't matter now, but she was still going to kill him. Koshchey pointed the pistol at her head. At this distance he could hardly miss.
"I will warn you only once."
Billi had one weapon left—her dagger. She pulled it out and held it in her fist. If she died, she'd make sure she took him with her. The power racing through her meant she'd leap the few feet between them easily.
"BILLI." A hand, wet and sticky, touched her arm, and she turned. "STEP AWAY."
Vasilisa stood in the red snow. She was covered in blood and there was a bum hole in the center of her smock. She looked up at Billi and smiled, a guileless child's smile. But the eyes were aged, not just a few years, but many, many thousands. They were black and as deep as eternity. Billi glanced at the Bogatyrs, then stepped away, retreating from the young girl who'd now become so much more. Baba Yaga had tried to consume Vasilisa, but instead Vasilisa had consumed her. All the Spring Children now inhabited the body of a nine-year-old. And so did all their powers.
Vasilisa stepped forward and faced Koshchey. "KOSHCHEY THE UNDYING," she said in a chorus of countless souls.
Koshchey fired. His men fired. Bullets shattered against Vasilisa's body as she held out her arms. Billi ducked behind a rusty car as the bullets rebounded off the invulnerable avatar. The gap between them filled with smoke and the stench of gunpowder. When Vasilisa lowered her arms, Koshchey was staring at her in mute horror.
Vasilisa looked to the surrounding Polenitsy. "COME, DAUGHTERS, FEED ON MANFLESH."
"Wait!"
The command was clear and imperious. Ivan hobbled out of the rubble. His chest was a mess of tattered cloth and blood, and he dragged his leg as he walked.
"Ivan?" Billi blinked. He was alive. She reached for him, but his eyes were on Koshchey. Her heart trembled. Koshchey's men outnumbered him—he would lose. Couldn't he see that? Billi bit her lip and stopped. She wanted to run to him, help him, but this was not the time. He had a score to settle. All she could do was stand by and watch.
Vasilisa raised her hand, stopping the Polenitsy.
"TSAREVICH." She acknowledged his presence and his right.
Smashed and battered as he was, there was almost demonic determination in Ivan's eyes as he gazed at Koshchey. "We have unfinished business, you and I."
Koshchey's eyes narrowed. "A duel, perhaps? For what, Tsarevich?"
"If you win, then you go free."
One of the Polenitsy shouted, but Vasilisa nodded in Ivan's direction. "SO BE IT."
Koshchey laughed. Hands on hips, he threw back his head and bellowed.
"You want to fight me? You can barely—"
The gun boomed once, and Koshchey fell. The thunder of the gunshot echoed across the city. Ivan stood, the big revolver perfectly still in his hand, the smoke whispering out of the long, shiny barrel.
"I want you dead," he said. "And that is all I want."
The Bogatyrs stared at the body of their leader. Then back at Ivan. They were a tight unit, but suddenly they looked lost and not a little frightened.
"Go now," he ordered. He tossed the empty gun aside and cleaned the sweat from his forehead. The Bogatyrs, throwing their weapons away, fled.
Billi ran forward into his arms. "Thank God. I thought you were dead."
"Me? Dead? Do you know who I am?" Ivan winced. "I am Tsarevich Ivan Alexeivich Romanov. It would take more than a couple of scratches to k
ill me." He wobbled and would have fallen if Billi hadn't hung on to him. "Not much more, though."
One of the wolves howled. A woman climbed onto a wall and cried at the moon. The victorious Polenitsy gave full voice to their joy, and the city echoed with their feral calling. The sound trembled in Billi's soul, and her ears pricked at the cries of celebrating beasts.
She sighed and stepped back from Ivan. She raised her head and stared at the moon. The brightness of it hurt her eyes, but she didn't blink.
The Beast Within stepped out of its cage.
She pulled off the broken remains of her mail armor.
Ivan took hold of her arm. "No. Not after all this." He shouted at the Templars. "Quickly!"
Billi twisted, but he wouldn't let go. She stared at her coat, bloodstained and ripped. She drew her long sharp nails— talons now—peeling it off.
They had won. Her sisters.
Dimly, she watched her father run toward her, backpack slung over his shoulder. His blue eyes were open and fearful. Why?
"Billi, your dad's coming, just hang on," said a man, a man called Ivan.
No, he was the enemy. He smelled of blood and wolf and gun and smoke, the stench of civilization.
"Let me go," Billi said. Oh, how ripe he looked.
"No."
Billi snarled, and her tongue touched the needle-sharp row of fangs in her mouth, all the better for tearing out his throat. She smiled, smelling the fear dripping through his pores.
"You are not a beast, Billi."
He did not flee as prey should. He stood facing her, daring her.
No. This was Ivan. He'd saved her life. Billi faltered.
The howls drowned out her thoughts, and Billi screamed. She collapsed, curling up as her body began to break its human mold. Arthur dropped beside her.
Human and beast fought for domination. Billi's soul split in two, each eager to rule the other. Muscles flinched and jerked as the Beast Within tried to force its will over body and flesh.
I am not a beast.
No matter what she'd done, she'd not given into it.
Billi stared hard at Ivan, digging her nails into his skin, hanging on to him like she was drowning.
Arthur ripped open his backpack, and the stench made Billi want to vomit. The werewolf part recoiled and snarled as Arthur pasted the thick herbal poultices over her arm and side. Her blood boiled and her skin burned.
Then a stream of coolness began to spread through her. First Billi sweated, then shivered as the herbs did their work.
Billi slumped in Ivan's arms and gave in to the comforting chill coursing through her veins.
Chapter 46
BILLI FELT THE TRICKLE OF COLD WATER ACROSS HER forehead. Drops fell on her eyelids, making her blink.
"Thank God," whispered Arthur.
Billi blinked again, wiping the water away, and gazed around.
"It was looking a bit hairy for a moment," said her father. He dropped the cloth into a plastic bowl.
"Is that a... joke?" she asked. "Please, no more. I don't think I could take it."
Arthur brushed her hair away from her face as she sat up. A few blankets had been tossed over a tiled floor, and she lay under a heavy coat.
"What happened?" Billi saw the fresh poultices on her arm and felt them against her ribs. It was still dark outside, and she flinched as she saw the moon hovering over the buildings, but then she relaxed. It had no power over her.
"A truce, of sorts," said Arthur. He looked weary, and the Templar Sword stood against the wall. "Vasilisa, if she is still Vasilisa, permitted us to stay in Chernobyl while you were resting. I think she was curious to see if you would change." He pointed at the moon. "Join the Polenitsy. I think she'd like that."
"She's with the Polenitsy now?" Billi asked.
"Oh yes. They've lost their old goddess and found a new one." Arthur scratched his chin. "It looks like all the power Baba Yaga had has passed to her." He didn't sound entirely happy about it.
Billi swung her feet in front of her.
"You should rest a bit. Lance is sorting out some transport."
"Where's Ivan?" Billi stood and wobbled, grabbing the wall to steady herself. Then she slowly let go and stood on her own two feet. "I want to see him."
"As stubborn as your mother." Arthur handed Billi a coat. "Outside. He's been waiting."
Billi smiled as she slung the coat over her shoulders. "Thanks, Dad."
Outside, Billi watched Lance and Mordred busy with one of the large Humvees the Bogatyrs had abandoned. Gwaine and Gareth stood on the roof, packing. Gareth's arm was in a sling, and he winced as he shifted a box of food with one hand and one boot. To the edge of the buildings, just beyond a rough strip of brushland that might once have been a park, were the Polenitsy. Even from here, Billi felt the stir of the Beast. It wanted to go and join them. She turned away and saw Ivan.
He sat on a pile of bricks, staring at Koshchey's body. Ivan's chest was wrapped in bandages, and someone had given him a bulky winter coat.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Billi asked.
"They aren't worth a penny."
The big man's eyes were still wide open, a faint expression of shock frozen on his stark, white face. There was a large blood-encrusted pit in his chest. "How do you feel?" Billi wanted to embrace Ivan, but she kept back.
"Honestly? Numb. Cold. Nothing in particular. I thought I would feel... more."
"It's done now, Ivan." Billi held out her hand. Ivan glanced at it. Silently, he slipped his fingers into hers.
"It has been an honor to fight beside you, Billi SanGreal." He smiled, and Billi helped him up.
"What are you going to do now?"
Ivan shrugged. "Get adopted."
"What?" She must have misheard. She tapped her head; perhaps she was still delirious with all that had just happened. It sounded like he'd said "get adopted."
Ivan smiled slyly. "England's royal family. We're related, you know. I may decide to come to London and impose on my cousins' hospitality."
Billi laughed. "Well, if you have no luck at Buckingham Palace, we might be able to find some space for you at the Temple." They began walking back to the building, supporting each other. Billi clung close to Ivan as he limped along, and he had his arm around her waist, holding her tightly.
A plaintive howl made them both look up.
A mangy gray wolf, its pelt bloody and torn, licked the still face of Big Red, of Svetlana. Its green eyes searched the girl's body for some sign of life, whimpering softly as it sniffed the deep chest wounds. It licked the girl's cheek, but she did not stir.
"Olga," Billi said. The wolf lifted its head in her direction, and Billi raised her hand. She wanted to thank her. The old werewolf, more than anyone, had saved the world from Fimbulwinter.
The old gray wolf watched them, blinking. Then it touched its nose against Svetlana's still lips and jumped down. With what could have been a nod or a bow, it turned and disappeared.
"Sister SanGreal," said a voice from behind them. A woman with scars and tattoos waited a few yards away. "The goddess wishes to speak with you." Goddess? Billi looked at the Polenitsy gathered in the distance. She saw Vasilisa sitting among them.
Ivan turned to go with her, but the woman's hand shot up. "Not you."
Billi smiled at Ivan. "It'll be fine. Vasilisa and I are friends." But as she turned to the werewolves and the young girl, she wasn't so sure. The spirits of all the other Spring Children were in the small pale body of the nine-year-old girl. There was no knowing who was in charge.
Vasilisa sat on the wreck of an old car with the Polenitsy around her. They'd found a plain white dress for her. The material was brittle and threadbare, but still elegant. Around her head she wore a crown made of bound twigs. Her face was spotless and her hair had been cleaned and woven with small white flowers: snowdrops. Vasilisa seemed to glow under the moon. Some of the Polenitsy had changed back into human form, but most, about twenty or so, still kept their beast form as wo
lves or half-humans.
"DON'T BE AFRAID," said Vasilisa to her. The group of women parted to let Billi through.
"We're going home now, Vasilisa." Billi met the black eyes of the small girl, and a chill fear grew in her heart. She was afraid. "If you still are Vasilisa."
"OH YES, I AM STILL HER. AND MANY OTHERS. ALL THE OTHER SPRING CHILDREN." Vasilisa smiled. "THEY ARE AT PEACE, BILLI. IN TIME THEY WILL ALL FADE."
"Then what's next?" Billi asked.
"FOR YOU, BILLI SANGREAL, A SAFE JOURNEY."
Vasilisa held out her hand and touched Billi's fingertips. "UNLESS YOU WISH TO STAY HERE, WITH YOUR SISTERS."
The Beast Within. It would prowl the cage of her soul forever, and she could hear its call echoing deep inside. It had tasted freedom, and Billi had fought it down. She checked the bandages on her arm, praying they would cure her, praying it wasn't too late.
Vasilisa smiled slyly, understanding. "DO NOT FRET. THE BEAST IS CAGED." She raised her fingers to touch Billi's heart. "BUT THE WOLF WILL ALWAYS BE WITHIN YOU. COME TO US, AND WE WILL FREE IT."
Billi shook her head and stepped back. "I'm sorry, but I know where I belong." She frowned. "Did I do right, Vasilisa? In saving you?" She'd thought she would defeat Baba Yaga and save an innocent life. Instead she had replaced the old goddess with a new one. Would this one be friend to humanity, or side against it?
Vasilisa took off her crown. She held it lightly, and green buds swelled along the twigs, rapidly growing into ripe, round cases that cracked open, unfurling petals of yellow and soft orange and red.
"NATURE WILL ALWAYS WIN." Vasilisa put the crown back on. "CHERNOBYL IS PROOF OF THAT."
"So you're saying Baba Yaga was right? That mankind is best out of the picture?"
"I AM SAYING WHATEVER HUMANITY DOES, NATURE ALWAYS TRIUMPHS."
"And Fimbulwinter? Is Yellowstone going to erupt?"
"FOR NOW, THE VOLCANO SLEEPS." The girl climbed off the car. "ONE DAY IT WILL AWAKEN, THEN EVEN I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO STOP IT. THAT IS HOW NATURE IS."
