by Amy Sumida
“What?” Lesya and I asked in unison, making Kirill smile wider.
“It's time for her to trace, Vervain.”
“Trace?” My face fell.
“Trace!” Lesya shrieked and clapped her hands.
“Are you out of your ever-lovin' lion mind?!” I snarled viciously, and Lesya went still. “Hell—and I mean all of the Hells—to the no, Kirill.”
There was a time when the sound of my snarl would have made Lesya cry, but my daughter was old enough now to know the nuances of my voice. And growls. And all the sound I make. Lesya knew she had nothing to fear from my anger but perhaps something to lose.
“She is old enough,” Kirill said calmly.
“She's not even three!”
“I'm ma-tour for my age,” Lesya said with a stern face. “Cuz I'm a lioness.”
“You can't even say the word 'mature,' sweetheart,” I gentled my tone as I took her from her father and set her on the floor. “Now, go downstairs and play with Zariel. I need to discuss this with your father.”
“Mommy,” she whined.
“Now, Lesya!” I put some mommy-growl into my voice. The one that told her what she had to lose was her ability to sit down comfortably and the longer she disobeyed, the longer her tiny butt would hurt.
Lesya huffed out a pouting puff of breath and stomped out of the room, her curls bouncing behind her as if making fun of her annoyance. As soon as she was gone, I turned to Kirill.
“Ve are going to Russia alone, Vervain,” he said sternly. “Vhat if something happens? Vhat if ve are attacked? Lesya must be able to get to safety on her own.”
I let out a long breath, all of my anger going with it until all that was left was fear. “She's just a baby. Years younger than she looks. Maybe we shouldn't go, Kirill.”
“Lesya vill be fine.” Kirill grabbed my upper arms gently and lowered his forehead to mine. “She vas born to do zis. She knows it in her blood.”
And I will be there to guide her back to you if anything goes wrong, a masculine voice spoke into my mind.
“Alaric?” I asked in surprise.
“Al is here?” Kirill asked.
I nodded to Kirill.
Lesya will be perfectly safe, Vervain, Al assured me. I won't let anything happen to her; you have my word on that and in the Aether, my word is law.
Alaric isn't a person per se, though he does have a distinctive personality. He's the Consciousness of the Void and the Aether; the sentience of those realms. A being of great power who has been a force in my life since long before I was born... the first time. He and his fellow consciousness, Faerie, had teamed up to watch over and guide me toward a destiny that they both insist I must fulfill. A destiny that's been altered a bit but keeps finding its way back to me.
If Alaric was with Lesya, she wouldn't get lost in the Aether.
“Thank you, Al,” I said to him before explaining to Kirill. “He says he can watch over Lesya when she traces.”
Kirill grinned. “See? It vill be fine. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“That's what Arach said before he tossed Rian out a window and look how that went,” I grumbled.
Chapter Three
For Lesya's first attempt at tracing, we were going to Asgard. In particular, to Valaskjalf, Odin's silver hall. It was where Odin and I had raised our sons, Vali and Vidar, and was a safe place where we could be certain no enemies laid in wait for us. It's also in the God Realm, the same realm that Pride Territory is in, and I thought that might be easier for Lesya.
We gathered at the tracing room on the first floor; the Intare, my men, and Vero. Even Nick, my immortal, gray tabby cat, came to see what the fuss was about. Zariel, Fallon and Samantha's werelion daughter, cheered Lesya on from the perch of her father's arms. Vero, not to be outdone, started shouting for his sister too but his shouts ended in wolf howls. That's when Nick decided that—cat or not—no amount of curiosity could make him stay.
“All right, now.” I held up my hands to quiet the beasts. “Lesya appreciates your encouragement, but she's going to need to concentrate. So, let's cheer her on a bit more quietly.”
“I want to trace!” Vero exclaimed.
“Me too!” Zariel added.
Fallon rolled his eyes, eyes that matched his daughter's, and looked at his wife for help.
“Not a chance, little lioness,” Samantha declared. “There is no way that I'm chasing you through the Aether when you throw a temper tantrum.”
I blanched and looked at Kirill. “I didn't think of that.”
Kirill frowned and looked down at Lesya.
“I promise I won't trace without permission,” she said earnestly.
“Why did that translate in my mind to: I solemnly swear I'm up to no good?'” Viper mused.
“Old Mother Hubbard,” I whispered one of my favorite child-friendly curses. “Imagine when she becomes a teenager.”
Kirill scooped up Lesya. “I changed my mind; you are never going to learn to trace.”
“Daddy!” Lesya wailed.
“Nyet,” Kirill said firmly.
“Or perhaps we could install a door to the tracing chamber?” Odin suggested in a reasonable tone.
Kirill and I stared at each other while Lesya squirmed to be put down.
“That could work,” I said.
Kirill grunted thoughtfully.
“Please!” Lesya cried.
“A door with a magical lock that won't open for anyone under the age of eighteen,” Odin added. “I'm fairly sure I can make such an enchantment.”
Kirill grinned.
“No fair!” Lesya whined.
“You promised not to trace vithout permission,” Kirill reminded her. “So vhy does it matter?”
“But eighteen is old! It's forever from now!”
Kirill chuckled. “You vill live to be far older zan zat, Kotyonok. I intend to make sure of it.”
Lesya sighed in defeat. “Can I trace now?”
“Lesya, you need to imagine what Uncle Odin's hall looks like,” I said sternly to her.
“Okay.” She closed her eyes.
“Can you see it in your head?” I asked. “You see the dining hall with the fireplace?”
“Puppies and birdies,” she said.
Those would be Odin's wolves, Geri and Freki, and his ravens, Hugin and Munin. All four adored Lesya nearly as much as she did them.
“Very good.” I nodded to Kirill, and he put her down. I took Lesya's hand and led her to the far wall in the tracing room. When someone enters Pride Lands, they trace into this room but to leave, they had to touch the tracing wall and connect with the Aether. “Okay, sweetheart, Alaric is going to be with you and Daddy and I will be tracing at the same time.”
“I know.” Lesya opened her eyes and smiled. “I got this, Mommy.”
I looked up at Kirill and found him grinning at me.
He laid his hand over Lesya's head and smoothed her curls. “Ve know you do.”
“Think of the silver hall,” I told Lesya again. “Then, when you see it clearly, put your hand on the wall and ask the Aether to take you there. Visualize—”
Lesya immediately put her hand on the wall. I made a shriek and clutched at her, but she was already gone, her hair running through my fingers like a ghost.
Chapter Four
I traced after her without waiting for Kirill, going straight to Valaskjalf. Stumbling out of the Aether, I found my daughter giggling between two giant wolves who were trying their best to lick her face off. Above them, two ravens circled, squawking at the wolves for dominating Lesya's attention.
I let out a long sigh of relief.
“Mommy, I traced!” Lesya exclaimed as she held her arms out to me.
“I see that, baby,” I said as I picked her up.
Behind me, Kirill came into the room, followed closely by the rest of my men. Even Trevor had traced with Vero. They all wore panicked expressions that faded slowly into slack relief. We exchanged the beleaguered expression of parents eve
rywhere; the ones worn after your child does something dangerous in front of you and miraculously survives.
“Congratulations, Kotyonok.” Kirill kissed Lesya's cheek then lifted his stare to mine.
There was still some panic in Kirill's eyes, and I admit that I felt a little smug about it. After his nonchalant attitude, he deserved a wake-up-call. The rest of the men closed in to hug and kiss Lesya, all under the premise of congratulating her, but I knew it was really to reassure themselves that she was all right. None of us could chide her, though, Lesya had done exactly what I'd told her to do, just a little quicker than any of us had expected. I put her down when my own fear had been eased.
“Lesya, you did it!” Vero declared as Trevor put him down too. Vero threw his arms around his sister.
Vero would make a year in a couple of months but with his Froekn blood, he matured faster than a human child—as all of my children had—and was closer to the size that Lesya should have been. His speech was improving weekly and even though he liked to be carried, he could walk on his own just fine.
“I did it!” Lesya started jumping up and down and Vero mimicked her until they looked like they were on an invisible seesaw.
“Strawberry Shortcake,” Viper swore under his breath. “That's it, Vervain, I've decided; I don't want children. That nearly gave me a heart attack and I'm immortal.”
I laughed as the other men stared at Viper in shock, then they started to laugh too. The children, not really understanding, began to giggle simply because we were so damn amused. Then the wolves started to howl and the ravens, instead of adding to the cacophony, flew out of the room in disgust. I had to agree with them; howling in a small stone room is not pleasant on the ears.
“Enough!” Odin shouted.
The wolves quieted instantly, but the children continued to giggle, albeit softly.
“Make your goodbyes, children.” Odin waved at the wolves. “We need to get back to Pride Palace.”
“But we just got here, Uncle Odin,” Lesya whined. “I haven't seen Sleipnir yet.”
“The manner in which you left startled the rest of our family,” Odin said sternly. “We need to return immediately and let them know that you're all right.”
“Why?” Lesya frowned.
“Because if you know someone you love is worried about you, you should do everything you can to assure them that you're safe,” he said in his father tone.
Lesya gaped at him.
“She meant; why were they startled,” I translated.
“Oh.” Odin blinked. “Because you traced so suddenly, Lesya. We were expecting you to take a moment to prepare.”
“But Mommy said to ask the Aether to take me here when I was ready,” Lesya said. “I was ready.”
Vero looked back and forth between Odin and Lesya solemnly, his honey eyes wide with incomprehension.
“Ve vere not ready,” Kirill admonished. “Tracing is difficult, especially vith only your mind to direct you. Your mother ended up in Faerie first time she traced vithout chant.”
“She did?” Lesya looked up at me.
I nodded.
“Yes, and it scared all of us very much,” Odin confirmed.
“Can I trace back home?” Lesya asked her father.
Kirill looked at me.
“Might as well.” I shrugged. “She's proven that she can do it. We should give her the opportunity to practice and, more than any other place, we need her to be able to trace home.”
“I can see it,” Lesya declared with her eyes squished tightly shut.
Vero looked at his sister then mimicked her. “I see it too!”
“Good. Keep practicing, Son.” Trevor winked at me while he picked up our boy.
“Bye, Puppies!” Lesya hugged the wolves, and they nuzzled her before whining at me for some lovin'.
“Oh, I haven't been forgotten?” I asked them as I bent to give them a few quick scratches.
They yipped and nudged me.
“It's good to see you guys too,” I said as I stood. “Sorry we can't stay.”
“I think I will stay awhile, actually.” Odin gave me a kiss goodbye. “I want to check on things while I'm here.”
“Okay. See you later.”
I turned away while the rest of the guys started tracing back to the Palace.
“Vervain,” Odin called my attention back to him. “She's a natural.”
“She had the Consciousness of the Aether watching over her,” I reminded him. “She had a slight advantage.”
“And we never scoff at advantages,” Odin reminded me.
I went serious as I glanced at Kirill preparing Lesya again, going over the steps as he crouched beside her in front of the wall.
“Yeah, we'll take every advantage we can get.”
Chapter Five
Kirill took our luggage—a suitcase in each hand and Lesya's bag strapped across his chest—and I took Lesya in her adorable fur coat that was a miniature of mine. That was the one good thing about going somewhere cold; I got to wear my faux fur. And when I say “faux fur,” I don't mean it was made out of chemicals or whatever it is they make fun fur out of. This fur felt and looked real but had been formed from my territory magic instead of taken from an animal.
Every god who owns a territory has complete control over it and everything inside it. We can alter things in our domain to become whatever we wish, changing a rock into a fifty thousand dollar coat seen online. Yeah, people pay that much for fur coats. Honestly, I wouldn't pay that much for a car, but I figured that if I was going to make a fur coat, I might as well make a fabulous one... and a mini one for my daughter. It was fluffy, white, and had a collar that was large enough to be flipped up, over my head, into a hood, negating the need for a hat.
Magic means never having to pay for couture.
I kissed everyone else goodbye, including a whimpering Vero who wanted to go with us. I promised to bring him back presents, and his frown magically transformed into a smile. Then we stepped into the tracing room. Kirill and I covered ourselves in invisibility, mine extending over Lesya, and I grabbed his wrist firmly. Kirill had to direct the trace since I'd never been to Saint Petersburg before.
We came out of the Aether within a sparse treeline, though I had a feeling that it only looked sparse because there were no leaves on the trees. After a quick look around to assure ourselves that we were alone, we went visible. We appeared to be in a park; a pale stone path, snow shoveled to its edges, led through the skeletal forest and a massive building loomed over it on our right. Ahead of us, the trees ended abruptly in a straight line, bordering a stone courtyard. A statue of a man on a horse dominated the area.
Lesya yipped in delight at the mist her breath made. Her gloved hands waved at it as she blew another puff. Then she looked up at Kirill. “This is Russia?”
“Da,” Kirill confirmed with a wide grin. “Come, before ve check into hotel, I vant to show you your grandfather.”
“My grandfather is here?” Lesya gaped at Kirill then at me. “I have a grandpa?”
“Not a living one, sweetheart,” I said gently as Kirill's face displayed his horror over getting her hopes up.
“I'm sorry, Kotyonok, I meant his visage. Zere's statue of my father here,” Kirill said gently. “Your grandfather lived a very long time ago. He vas an important man who built zis city.”
“He built a city?” She asked in wonder. “A whole city?”
“He had some help.” Kirill grinned. “Not like your mother, who can build zings all by herself. She is far greater person zan my father vas.”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “The word 'great' is literally a part of his title.”
“Da, Vervain, zat vas my point,” Kirill said in a beleaguered tone.
“Is that his statue?” Lesya squealed as she pointed at the horseman.
“You are much better person zan he vas; trust me,” Kirill lowered his voice to add, making me frown. Then he grinned brightly at Lesya, “Da, zat's him.”
<
br /> “Here, honey.” I put Lesya down and took one of the suitcases from Kirill. “You show her.”
Kirill beamed at me then took his daughter's hand and led her to the statue of her illustrious grandfather. I walked a few steps behind them, content to watch him with her. Kirill led Lesya right up to the huge, stone base of the Bronze Horseman—it's actual name—and pointed at the inscription as he read it to her. The foundation was shaped to imitate a cliff, lifting Peter and his horse like a missile ready to be fired. The horse's hooves trampled a snake and Peter had his hand raised in salute. All very dramatic.
