Foretold (40 page)

“Of course. I’d be honored,” said Dimitri gravely. “But that’s it.” This last part was added because suddenly half the room wanted to go with him. They’d rolled their eyes at Henry’s initial request, but with Dimitri on board now, this had just hit heroic odyssey status.

“What about me?” I asked dryly.

A smile twitched at Dimitri’s lips. “I figured that was a given.”

I wasn’t able to speak privately with him until much later. After all, people were still celebrating his return to the living, and now there was this quest to cheer on. The only one more impatient than me, I think, was Henry. He was pleased to have finally gotten help, but it was clear he wanted to start going over logistics and plans with Dimitri
right now
. That obviously wasn’t going to happen, and at last, Henry left and said he’d be back tomorrow.

It was nearly the middle of the night when the remaining guests departed and Dimitri and I returned to our room. I was exhausted but still had enough energy left to chastise him.

“You know Yeva didn’t specifically say you had to be the one to kill this Blood King guy,” I said, crossing my arms to look imposing. “Viktoria—and everyone else—jumped to that conclusion.”

“I know,” said Dimitri, stifling a yawn. “But
someone
has to kill him. Even if these humans are bringing it on
themselves, the threat needs to be removed. My mother’s right that dhampirs around here are mostly focused on defense. You and I are the only ones who’ve gone through an entire guardian’s training. And Mark.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s why you said he could come. I figured it was just because he was the first to ask and not one of those other wannabes trying to get in on your awesomeness.”

Dimitri smiled and sat down on the bed. “These people can fight. They’d fight to the death if their homes were attacked. But to go into battle? Mark’s the only one of them I’d take. And he’s still no match for you.”

“Well,” I said, coming to sit beside him. “That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard all night.” Another realization hit me. “Mark can sense Strigoi too.” It was a side effect of being brought back from the dead. “Huh. I guess this might be crazy enough to work.”

Dimitri kissed the top of my head. “Admit it. You don’t mind going after this Strigoi. It’s the right thing to do. Even if they’re walking into it, innocents are still dying because of him.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s the right thing. I would’ve volunteered myself eventually.” I sighed. “I just hate giving Yeva one more reason to think she controls the fate of the universe.”

He chuckled. “If you plan on being a part of this family, then you’d better get used to it.”

Dimitri and I had no hangover effects to deal with, fortunately, but neither of us was too thrilled when Henry showed up at the crack of dawn so that we could “get down to business.” Like the other Alchemists I’d met, Henry wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty. He had no intention of going with us to take on this Blood King. Also like other Alchemists, Henry was swimming in paperwork and plans.

He brought us tons of maps and diagrams of the cavernous area the Blood King inhabited, as well as every report the Alchemists had about sightings and attacks. Alchemists loved reports. Olena made us all some extremely strong coffee that tasted only slightly less toxic than the regional vodka, but the coffee’s caffeine buzz went a long way to help us wake up and strategize.

“It’s not that big a region,” remarked Henry, tapping one of the maps. “I don’t understand why no one can ever find him in daylight. This area’s small enough that someone could search out every single cave within a day. Yet, they all still end up trapped there at night and get killed.”

My mind spun back to another set of caves, halfway around the world. “The caves are connected,” I said slowly, tracing the dots that one map used to mark the entrances. “You can search all day and never find him because he moves around underground.”

“Brilliant, Roza,” murmured Dimitri in approval.

Henry looked startled. “How do you know?”

I shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” I flipped through the pieces of paper. “Do you have an underground map? Did anyone ever do a … I don’t know … a geological survey or something?” It seemed like every other representation of the area was there: satellite images, topographical drawings, analyses of the minerals … everything but a glimpse of what was happening below the surface. Henry confirmed as much.

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “I don’t have anything like that.” Then, as though to save face for Alchemists and their usually meticulous style, he added, “Probably because no one ever actually made one. If it existed, we’d have it.”

“That’s going to be a disadvantage,” I mused.

“Not so much,” said Dimitri, finishing off the last of his
coffee. “I have an idea. I don’t think we need to go underground at all. Especially with Mark.”

I met his eyes and felt a jolt of electricity jump between us. Part of what drew us together was a mutual love of excitement and danger. It wasn’t that we sought it out, exactly, but when there was a need to respond, we were both always ready to take on whatever was necessary. I felt that spark kindling between us now as this task loomed closer, and suddenly had a good idea of what his plan was.

“Bold move, comrade,” I teased.

“Not by your standards,” he returned.

Henry glanced back and forth between us, totally lost. “What are you two talking about?”

Dimitri and I just grinned.

Of course, there weren’t many smiles when we set out before dawn the next day. Dimitri’s family displayed a conflicting mix of confidence and nervousness. Ostensibly, Yeva’s proclamation that Dimitri would triumph guaranteed victory. Yet neither his sisters nor his mother were totally carefree about sending him off to face an old and powerful Strigoi with a long history of kills. The women showered him with hugs and well wishes, and all the while, Yeva looked on in her smug, knowing manner.

Mark was with us, looking tough and battle ready. Henry had said the Baia dhampirs were “local” to the Blood King, but that was kind of a relative term, as the caverns were still about a six-hour drive away. We were simply the closest, since the caves lay in a remote area with little surrounding civilization. In fact, part of the drive’s length was a result of the roads in that region being so poorly maintained.

We reached the caverns around midday, which was all according to plan. It was a desolate place and really only a
small blip as far as elevation went, hardly able to compete with much grander ranges like the Ural Mountains far to the east. Still, it was higher and steeper than most of the surrounding lowlands, with rock-faced cliffsides that were going to require some sure footing. None of the caves were visible from where we parked the car, but a small, worn footpath meandered off between some of the cliffs. From what we’d seen of Henry’s map, this led into the heart of the complex.

“Nothing like a little rock climbing,” I said cheerfully, hoisting my backpack over my shoulder. “This could almost be a vacation, if not for the, you know, potentially dying part.”

Mark held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he regarded Dimitri and me. “Something tells me you’re the kind of people whose vacations always end up that way.”

“True,” said Dimitri, heading out toward the path. “Besides, we’re safe today. We have my grandmother’s guarantee, remember?”

I rolled my eyes at the teasing in his voice. Dimitri might love and revere Yeva, but I knew he wouldn’t count on any vague prophecy to get this task done. His faith was in the silver stake he carried at his belt.

The path started out easy but soon became a challenge as the elevation rose and more obstacles appeared in our way. We had to climb around boulders and manage some tricky parts where the path all but disappeared, forcing us to cling to the rocky sides. When we reached what was apparently the center of the complex, I was surprised to see how level it was. Cliff faces rose up all around us, like we were in some kind of fortress, but this area provided a small measure of tranquility. I wasn’t tired—dhampirs are hardy, after all—but was glad we had reached our destination.

And that was where … we stopped.

We settled down on the ground, sorting out the contents of
our backpacks, and proceeded to pretty much lounge around for the rest of the day. Despite the wind blowing up here, the temperature was still summer-warm, and this would’ve almost made a perfect picnic scene. True, the weathered rock and scattered vegetation were hardly idyllic, but we spread out a blanket and ate a lunch consisting of Olena’s fabulous cooking. When we were finished, I lay down next to Dimitri while Mark began whittling a piece of wood.

We kept up a steady stream of small talk. This was all part of the plan too. After Henry had said adventuring humans had gone hunting and been killed, we’d realized that was the downfall: going off and getting trapped inside caves that this Blood King guy obviously knew better than us. We weren’t going to do it. We would stay out in the open, making no effort to hide our presence. While Strigoi loved human blood, they loved Moroi and dhampir blood even more. There was no way this Strigoi would be able to ignore us hanging out on his turf. If the violation didn’t draw him out, the lure of our blood would. He’d eventually come after us when darkness fell, and we’d fight him on our terms.

“Mark, you and Oksana should come to the U.S.,” I said. “Lissa would love to meet you and talk spirit. Lots of people would.”

Mark didn’t look up from his carving. “That’s the problem,” he said good-naturedly. “We’re worried too many people would, now that everyone’s interested in spirit. We don’t want to become science experiments.”

“Lissa wouldn’t let that happen,” I said adamantly. “And think of all the amazing things we might learn. Spirit seems to be able to do something new every day.” Before I even knew it, my hand found Dimitri’s. In saving him, spirit had already done the greatest thing it ever could in my eyes.

“We’ll see,” said Mark. “Oksana likes her privacy, but I know she’s curious about—”

Dimitri shot up from his lounging position, instantly rigid and focused in that way he had. Mark had fallen silent as soon as Dimitri twitched, and now I sat up too. My hand went to my stake, and I saw the guys’ hands do the same. Even as I did, the logical part of me knew there was no need—not when we were out in broad daylight. Whatever had spooked Dimitri wasn’t Strigoi, but the instinct was hard to shake. His gaze fell on a large pile of rocks and boulders sitting near a cliff face. Wordlessly, he pointed to it and then tapped his ear. Mark and I nodded in understanding.

Glancing down at one of Henry’s maps that we’d left open, I immediately spotted the rock formation Dimitri had indicated. It was large and sprawling, with what looked like a small gap between it and the cliff. If there was something lurking and spying on us, it would be possible to sneak behind the formation and catch the spy unawares. I tapped my chest and pointed to the formation on the map. Dimitri shook his head and tapped his chest instead. I glared and started to protest, but then he gestured between Mark and me. In that uncanny way we had of thinking alike sometimes, I immediately knew what Dimitri was saying. Mark and I had been talking when Dimitri had heard whatever startled him. We needed to continue that in order to keep the cover and surprise this potential threat. Reluctantly, I nodded defeat to Dimitri.

He crept away, silent as a cat, and I turned to Mark and tried to remember what we’d been talking about. The U.S.—I’d been trying to convince him he should visit for some reason. Talk. I needed to talk and create a distraction. So I frantically blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“So, yeah, Mark … if you, um, come visit … we can go out to eat and you can try some American food. No more cabbage.” I gave an uneasy laugh and tried not to stare at Dimitri as he disappeared around a rocky corner. “We could, you know, go out for hot dogs. Don’t worry—they’re not actually dogs. It’s just a name. They’re these meat things that you put on buns—that’s a kind of bread—and then you top them with other things and—”

“I know what a hot dog is,” interrupted Mark. His tone was light for the sake of our observer, but his stake had replaced the whittling knife.

“You do?” I asked, legitimately surprised. “How?”

“We’re not
that
remote. We have TV and movies. Besides, I’ve left Siberia, you know. I’ve been to the U.S.”

“Really?” I hadn’t known that. I knew very little about his history, really. “Did you try a hot dog?”

“No,” he said. His eyes were on the spot where Dimitri had vanished, but they briefly flicked to me. “I was offered one … but it didn’t look that appetizing.”

“What!” I exclaimed. “Blasphemy. They’re delicious.”

“Aren’t they compressed animal parts?” he pushed.

“Well, yeah … I think so. But so is sausage.”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t know. Something’s just not right about a hot dog.”

“Not right? I think you mean
so right
. They’re like the—”

My righteous indignation was interrupted by a yelp, reminding me that there’d been another purpose here besides my defense of one of the greatest foods in the universe. Mark and I moved as one, both sprinting over to the rock pile and source of the noise. There, we found Dimitri pinning down a wriggling guy in a leather jacket and worn blue jeans. I couldn’t tell much else about him because Dimitri had the guy’s faced pressed into the dirt. Seeing us, Dimitri eased his
hold so that the guy could look up. When he did, I saw that he was my age—and human.

He glanced between me and Mark—or, more accurately, he glanced between the silver stakes we both held. Gray-blue eyes went wide, and the captive began babbling in Russian. Mark frowned and asked a question, but didn’t lower his stake. The human answered, sounding near-panicked. Dimitri scoffed and released his grip altogether. The human scrambled away, only to trip and land hard on his butt. Mark made some comment in Russian, which Dimitri responded to with a laugh.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” I demanded. “In English?”