Rosa and the Veil of Gold (39 page)

BOOK: Rosa and the Veil of Gold
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Morozko’s attentions towards Em were suspicious to Daniel, but Em had fallen under some kind of spell. Yes, Morozko had brought them to food and safety. Yes, he tended to Em with infinite care and caution. But every other creature they had met was hostile unless paid. So far they had paid Morozko nothing, and Daniel was afraid that when the price was named, it would be too high.

Adding fuel to his suspicions was the fact that all afternoon, since Daniel had woken, Morozko had kept him busy away from the camp. First collecting firewood, then hunting for eggs, and finally searching up and down the edges of the stream for
poputnik
leaves, which he insisted would ease Em’s stomach cramps and allow her to eat properly.

Through all this, Em looked dazed and weak. She had lost her usual sharp-eyed practicality, smiling and gazing at Morozko as though she were a thirteen-year-old girl, and he the gorgeous friend of an older brother.

In the late afternoon, when Morozko left to hunt, Daniel sat with Em to persuade her to his way of thinking.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“The
poputnik
has helped,” she said. “I’m holding down food. I feel a lot stronger.” She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We are so lucky that Morozko found us.”

“Are we?”

Her expression was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Daniel dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward. “I’m worried, Em. How do we know he doesn’t intend to harm us?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” she replied sharply.

“How do you know that?”

“I just know. I…” She searched about for words. “I feel it.”

“You
feel
it?”

“Yes. Very strongly. I feel good things when I look at him.”

“I don’t. If I look at him with the second sight, I see shadows on his brow. I feel suspicions, resentments.”

“And why should your feelings matter more than mine?”

“Because you’ve never
felt
anything before. You’ve always been practical and thoughtful.” He touched her shoulder, withdrew his touch when he realised how cold she had become. Only inanimate objects should be that cold: chilled peaches or refrigerated cadavers. “Em, think about it. It doesn’t make sense.”

“What makes sense in Skazki? It’s been chaos since we arrived.”

Daniel shook his head, growing exasperated. “You’re behaving so strangely, Em. It’s like you’re falling in love with him.”

She snorted. “Very funny. I didn’t complain when you wanted to follow the polevoi, even though I could see that you were fooled by her. Just because she looked like Nanny Rima.”

“This is different. He’s dangerous.”

“No, he’s not.” She held her palm out in a stop gesture. “I don’t want to talk about this nonsense any more. I’m weak, I’ve been sick. We’ll discuss it later.”

In her rebuff, she was a little more like the old Em, and it was enough reassurance to make him back off, resolve to try later.

Hopefully, before it was too late.

Morning light came. Em sat by the fire, gazing at the glowing embers. Once, not too long ago, it had bothered her that the fire could provide her no comfort. Now, she relished it. As though the cold was infinitely preferable to warmth. It made her smile.

Daniel was in the woods, collecting mushrooms for breakfast. Morozko stood by the stream, dark curls falling forward over his bent head. Early light stained his skin. His folded white wings curved gracefully on his hard back: a painting come to life. She smiled again. She was smiling a lot lately; probably grateful that she was still alive. Grateful that home was a possibility again.

Though home without Morozko seemed something of an empty idea. Em rose, and walked towards him.

“Hello,” she said, trailing a finger over his upper arm. “Do you need company?”

He turned and smiled, and she was breathtaken by his terrible beauty. Breathtaken. What was happening to her? She wanted him, of course. He was supremely sexually attractive. She didn’t want him the way that she’d wanted the others, where their faces and names were irrelevant. No, she imagined that if she could make love to Morozko it might awaken something in her. Something she didn’t have a grammar to express. In fact, if she concentrated on the feeling very hard, she realised that sex needn’t even be part of it.

“What do you want, Em?” he asked, cutting into her thoughts before they could venture too far into uncharted territory.

“I just wanted to…” She trailed off, uncertain. Something about his voice frightened her.

“No, I mean,
what do you want
?”

She shook her head. “I want to give you something,” she said, her words pouring out in a rush. “You’ve done so much for me. And Daniel.”

“What do you want to give me?”

“Gold.”

“You gave me gold once before.” He opened his mouth and lifted his tongue. In the space beneath, her gold wedding ring rested.

“I have more. Well…” She glanced over her shoulder. “Daniel has it. It’s a bear.”

Morozko’s shoulders flexed forward, and Em could feel the movement under her fingers. He didn’t feel as cold as he once felt.

“A bear?” he said, an expression of anticipation crossing his face. “A bear made of gold? Where did you get it?”

“Would you like to see it?”

Morozko smiled, taking her hand. “I’ll see it soon enough. Tell me, why do you want to give me this bear?”

“I…because you…”

“I’ll ask you again:
what do you want
? Don’t answer me with trivia. In your gut, in your sinews, what do you want?”

Em opened her mouth. The word “you” begged to emerge. Her brain engaged, the word stayed in.

His voice dropped so low she almost didn’t hear him. “You are starting to feel.”

Em laughed. “I’m not. I’m the same as I ever was.”

“You are falling in love with me.”

“I’m…” Words fought with her tongue.

“Like attracts like,” he said. “I doubt anyone else could have awoken feeling in you.”

“This is silly.” She felt embarrassed. Young and foolish.

“Are you not curious, Em? About love?”

Em concentrated. She didn’t like herself all speechless and vulnerable. “Of course, from time to time.”

His fingers locked with hers. He squeezed her hand hard. “I can make you feel, now you’ve opened your heart to me a little.”

“This makes no sense.”

“You said you were curious.”

A falling sensation fluttered over her. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’m curious, but…”

He dropped her hand and turned his shoulder away. “I don’t want to force you.”

“No! Really, I’m curious. I just…” She rubbed the centre of her forehead. “I’m confused.”

Once again, he picked up both her hands. His fingers locked between hers, like a trap closing. “I am interested to see how deep these new feelings flow, but you must understand it could be dangerous.”

She tried to laugh dismissively, but could feel the fear flicker across her own expression. “You’re talking in riddles.”

“Prepare, Em. You can drop my hands any time.” He loosened his grip to demonstrate. “In fact, you should make sure you drop them before too long. My soul is colder than my skin. You don’t want the cold to go all the way to your heart.”

She was about to open her mouth to say “What do you mean?” when a barrage of sensations rocketed into her. She gasped and closed her eyes, let the images unfold.

It was the sweetest joy. Love? How would she know, she’d never felt it before. But this was all over her body: prickling her skin, thudding in her muscles and bones. She’d imagined love to be more isolated, more of a sharp flutter in the chest and nothing more.

“What is it?” she said, but the words came out fuddled and muddy.

“It will stop when you’re ready to stop, but it won’t return.”

So was it love? The thundering rollercoaster continued, dipping and soaring in her body. A simple test would solve the confusion. Children were said to rouse the deepest love, so she reeled back in her mind for memories, for Rubin’s birth. At first the flashes were of the pain, the overly bright hospital room, but then a white-hot moment: the tiny body of an infant cradled in her hands.

Far away, she heard herself gasp for air. She may have even sobbed. Sensation rose like a tide, pulses of light and dark bruised her. The image led to another, and another, unbidden. The dam had cracked, and now she waited for the floodwaters to crush her. Her mother, her father…
my father, I loved him
…even Daniel, his pale anxious face arousing such sweet weakness inside her.
I love him. I love them all.
Most of all, it was her son who came to her. Only snatches—after all, she had spent so little time with him—but the most wondrous painful joy came with them. She loved him more than truth, more than light, more than breath. The curve of his plump cheek made her ache, the light of his crooked smile sent bolts of electricity to her heart, the smell of his freshly-washed hair made her want to abandon everything and lie down, his warm body curled in her arms, forever and forever and forever…

“Em! What’s happening?” This was Daniel’s voice, but it was far away, and the alarm in his words couldn’t touch her. She was pounding with joy, glued to the feeling, never wanted to come back.

“She can let go whenever she wants. Don’t come any closer.”

“Let her go!”

“As you wish.”

The tide began to withdraw, Morozko’s fingers were leaving hers.

“No!” she screamed, tightening her grip, vicious as a beast. She pulled hard on Morozko’s hands, and the feelings came back.

“You have chosen then,” he said.

“Em, let go!”

How could she let go? How could she go back to not feeling this way ever again? Years on top of empty years lay behind her. Was
that her future too? She couldn’t bear it. She crushed Morozko’s fingers in hers, and this time behind the glittering feelings of love, she felt the first tendril of ice touch her heart.

“It’s going to kill you,” Morozko said, somewhere between sad and resigned.

Oh, the sweet ache of it. Oh, the unspeakable joy. Her heart hurt anyway. What was one more spear of frosty pain?

“Ah, well,” Morozko said, “there are worse ways to die.”

“I won’t let go,” she gasped. Her voice echoed in her own dark mind, but she couldn’t hear it aloud. Shadows gathered on the periphery. She feasted on the feelings, ignoring the growing stab of pain. Somewhere, far away, two men were shouting at each other. It hardly mattered. She loved more than truth, more than light, more than breath.

And so she let go of all three.

First truth.

Then light.

Then breath.

Daniel pulled up sharply as Em dropped to the ground, pale and blue around the lips.

Morozko turned to him. Dark light stained his eyes. “She’s dead,” he said.

Em? Dead? Impossible.

“The bear,” Morozko said, extending his hand. “Give it to me.”

Daniel folded his arms across his middle, feeling the lump of the bear against his ribs. He remembered what Em had said:
She’s our ticket home…Guard her with your life.

“No,” said Daniel. Involuntarily, his second sight switched on, and Morozko’s features were washed in icy blues and dull grey shadows. He turned to run.

“You can’t run from me!” Morozko called, amused disbelief in his voice.

Daniel did run. Panicked, he headed into the open grassland rather than the shadowed forest. The frost demon was behind him, gaining on him every second, his freezing aura extending ever closer.

THIRTY-TWO

Day and night were all the same for Rosa. She had lost track, because the sun’s course through the sky no longer marked time. On each occasion that she slipped through the veil, it was a different time of day over a different landscape. The snowy twilight of Perun and Veles’ world gave way to the arctic gleam of ice and black water, then to the rich green of the black-soil woods, then to wide miles of spruce forest, where all she saw for an entire day were the tips of trees. It created in her a kind of jetlag, where she was unable to hold her eyes open in full sun, or she sat up all night on the velvet seat on Voron’s back, gazing in awestruck wonder at the million stars and the endless magical landscape to which they lent their pale light.

On the fourth day, Voron broke through a crossing into a violet dawn which glowed over a vast steppe. She gazed around in all directions. As far as she could see, nothing. She leaned back in her seat and unwrapped another pancake, humming a tune to herself. The wind streamed through her hair and was starting to make her ears ache. She pulled her headdress down over them, and longed for a pair of earmuffs instead of the richly decorated kokoshnik.

The sun glimmered over the horizon, and its orange light caught on moving water. A river? She sat up and peered into the hazy distance. A narrow stream, trees bending around it and leading back into a sparse forest.

He’s here.

The feeling was so strong it nearly took her breath away. This was it. Months at the Chenchikovs’ farm, days of travel, and finally, Daniel was nearby. It seemed almost impossible, a wish so
dear it couldn’t possibly be granted. She stood carefully, leaning over the front bar of the sleigh. Movement in the grass. Two figures. Daniel was one. The other was a winged man. Not Em.

Then the little bells which laced the front of her dress started chiming urgently.

Her heart missed a beat. Daniel was fleeing. He was in danger.

“Down, Voron!” she shouted, thumping the bar and nearly losing her balance. “Down, between them.”

Voron hesitated. The angle was too steep.

“Down!” she commanded.

Voron plunged from the sky. She held onto the bar as the sleigh tipped almost vertically towards the ground, speeding so fast that the sound of rushing air nearly deafened her. The pit of her stomach dissolved. The headdress was torn from her hair and tumbled away into the sky. A hundred feet from the ground, Voron swooped into landing position, skidding roughly to a stop in front of the winged demon.

“Stop!” she shouted, jumping from the sleigh and unwinding a protection knot from her arm.

The demon kept running, barrelling towards her with a snarl and a baring of his teeth. She threw the knot on the ground. The creature stumbled, fell.

“Daniel!” she shouted.

Daniel stopped. Turned. His mouth dropped in astonishment. Rosa glanced back to the demon. It had stood and now rose into the air, beating its wings and taking off after Daniel once again.

“Leave him alone!” she shouted. Her hand went to the thunder arrow. A fallen star should fell a demon. She ripped it from her neck, took aim and shot it into the sky. It struck the demon on the shoulder. A crack of thunder boomed out of the sky, splitting her hearing and sending harsh echoes for miles. He tumbled, his wings rolling into each other, feathers flying. With a sickening
whump
he hit the ground.

Rosa ran towards Daniel who stood, stunned, frozen in the distance. As she drew closer, she could see what a toll Skazki had taken on him. He was haggard, thin, he’d grown a sparse beard and his skin was tanned. But he was still Daniel, with dark dreamy eyes and an uncertain brow. She loved him, even though she knew she would have to let him go.

“Rosa!” he gasped, as they crashed into each other, sobbing and shuddering into each other’s hair and shoulders.

Rosa stood back after a moment to examine him. “I’ve come to rescue you,” she said.

“Morozko…” he began, then took a frightened step back.

Rosa turned. Morozko had risen to his feet, and limped towards them, rubbing his shoulder. His eyes rounded with wonder as he took in her costume, the girdle and the sarafan, the shoes at her belt and the design of stars and dragons.

“Who are you?” he said, his voice laced with awe. “Why do you ride in Koschey’s sleigh? You smell like a Mir woman, but you’re dressed like a
bogatyra.
You wield the thunder arrow like a god and the stars glow on your clothes.”

“You stay back,” she said, imbuing her voice with a vicious confidence she certainly didn’t feel. “I have many more weapons that Koschey has given me.”

“I’m an old friend of Koschey’s,” Morozko said. “He would not want you to use them against me.”

“Then stay back. Stay away from him.”

Morozko indicated Daniel with his good arm. “He has the Golden Bear. I thought to take it, to return it to Koschey.”

“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “Grigory sent me. We’re returning to him immediately with the bear. On the sleigh.”

“Forgive me. If I’d known I would never have tried to stop you.” He considered Daniel over Rosa’s head. “I’m sorry about your travelling companion.”

Rosa turned to Daniel. “Em? Where is she?”

Daniel’s face spoke for him, his disbelief and shock plain around his eyes and mouth.

Rosa felt a rush of cold prickles. “No. Not here, Daniel. Not here. She’ll wander revenant forever. Where is she? Take me to her, straightaway.”

“Back towards the stream,” Daniel said.

“I’ll lead you,” Morozko said, turning with his wings folded behind him.

Like a funeral procession they returned to the site of Em’s death. Morozko, marble-cold with snowy wings. Rosa, black-haired and dressed in crimson. Daniel, dirty and clothed in brown. The grey
sky lowered over the yellow-green grass, and the hidden sun glared across it all.

At the side of the stream, in muddy grass, Em lay crumpled in a heap. Rosa felt for a pulse, but there was nothing. Morozko knelt beside her, and Rosa could feel the intense cold which radiated from him.

“I didn’t intend to kill her,” he said to Rosa. “She was a creature unlike any I’d known. I was curious. I explored her. It ended badly.”

She turned her gaze to his, and saw distress in his eyes.

“She survived so long here, on her wits.”

“She didn’t have her wits at the last.” He dropped his head.

Rosa returned her attention to Em’s body. She closed her eyes, opening her second sight and ranging it around. Nearby, but fading fast, there was a tiny glow of warmth.

“She’s around still,” Rosa said, clearing her vision. “She hasn’t joined the revenants yet.”

“You can bring her back to life?” Daniel said, incredulous.

“No. No, Daniel,” she replied, regretting arousing any false hope. The anticipation in his face made her sad and she had to look away. “Death is forever. But…” She untied the shoes at her waist, realising now who they were for. “Here,” she said, handing one to Daniel, “help me get these on her.”

“What are they?”

“Quickly now. They’ll take her soul to the one place she can find great joy.”

Daniel hurried, Rosa too. Then she laid her hands over Em’s heart and closed her eyes again.

Calmly, quietly, she began, “I beseech the moon and all the stars…” She knew the zagovor, having heard Anatoly chant it to Nikita’s revenant spirit. She had none of his impassioned fury. She didn’t need it. The shoes would take Em where she needed to go. This was just to make it simpler.

“My word is firm,” she finished. “So it shall be.”

The warm light which had been fading suddenly bloomed into brightness on her second vision, nearly knocking Rosa over. Daniel gasped. He could see it too, and Rosa wondered how long he’d had the second sight. The light dazzled for a moment, then, with a
sound which might have been a sigh of relief or an unstructured humming melody, it extinguished to black.

Rosa opened her eyes.

“What do we do with her body?” Daniel said. “We can’t leave it here for witches or wolves.”

“She’s not in it any more, Daniel,” Rosa said.

“But still…”

“I’ll take her,” Morozko said. “I’ll take her back to the ice caves with me. Nothing will touch her there.”

Rosa and Daniel watched as Morozko folded Em’s body gently in his arms, easing her head gingerly onto his bruised shoulder. Then, with an athletic leap, he took to the sky and spiralled up towards the clouds. They watched until he disappeared from view.

Rosa turned to Daniel. He was fighting tears.

She took his hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get away from here.”

Voron waited. Rosa climbed in, but Daniel hesitated.

“Daniel,” she asked. “Not still afraid of flying?”

He shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Yes, I am.” He took a step onto the sleigh. “But I’m coming with you.”

Rosa’s here. Rosa’s here.

It was what Daniel had dreamed about every day since his arrival in Skazki, and now she was finally here he could scarcely believe it. No matter that the sky beneath the sleigh was miles deep, that he clung to the side of the sleigh until his knuckles threatened to break through his skin. Rosa was beside him, and he felt a first glimmer of the possibility that he might be happy again some time.

Em’s death was a sad weight on his heart. All the horrors of their journey together condensed into one impossibly real moment when her body slammed the ground with its full dead weight. If only Rosa had come moments sooner…

“Tell me everything,” Rosa said as they shot through a crossing on the raven sleigh. The sky shattered and resolved, the wide steppe behind him at last.

So he told her everything, and she told him in her turn, and he clutched her hands and allowed himself to weep for Em as the air
split again and they found themselves above a deep woodland, night full upon the sky. Rosa commanded the sleigh to land, and soon they were building a fire in a broad clearing. The stars were quiet, but the trees whispered among themselves.

Daniel and Rosa sat together on the velvet seat of the sleigh, while the fire roared next to them. They ate pancakes, and Daniel amused himself watching Rosa’s two shadows flicker in the firelight.

“You’re so warm,” he said to her, amazed by the heat of her shoulder beneath his arm.

“It’s not me,” she said. “It’s this dress.”

“I’m used to Em…she was so cold towards the end…” He trailed off, as the sadness stilled his tongue. Em had been cold in more than body. She had been incapable of love, but somehow he had grown to love her. He would miss her blunt practicality, her poised mannerisms, her games of numbered lists.

“You must have grown very close,” Rosa said in a soft voice.

“We did. I mean, I did. I don’t know how she felt, if she felt…but she was a good friend, and we looked out for each other. In the end, I didn’t look out carefully enough.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Daniel,” Rosa said, stroking his fingers gently. “Wherever she is now, she’s happy.”

Daniel gazed at her. She was so unspeakably beautiful, had such fire in her veins. She smiled at him.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, Rosa,” he said. “I still love you.”

Her eyes changed. Some of the fire dimmed. She fought with words for a few moments, then said, “It’s all right, Daniel.” She leaned into kiss him. It had been so long since he’d touched her lips with his, and feelings both tender and violent rose in him. His hands moved into her hair and he pressed his body against her. Such sweet bruising warmth.

“Get me out of this stupid dress,” she laughed, unpicking the soundless bells.

He stripped her and laid her in the cold grass on the bank. She smelled like heaven: warm skin and clean hair and musky female scents. She drew him down beside her and wrenched his clothes from his body, lips like fire on his flesh. Everything about her was
laid open to him, he plunged into her and the brilliance of his desire sizzled through his veins and sinews. Grass tickled his bare skin. He pushed her head back and kissed her neck; her pulse thundered under his lips. The night enveloped them.

“I love you,” he murmured against her ear. “I love you and the stupid words aren’t enough.”

“I know,” she said. “They never are.”

It was too cold for nakedness, and they dressed again, in time, and huddled together next to the fire, still in the dreamy weariness of lovemaking’s wake. Rosa was fighting a dislocation, an anxiety that she couldn’t name. So now she had to tell him everything. And telling was remembering, dragging up every detail and seeing the whole awful mess laid out.

“How soon can we go home, do you think?” Daniel asked.

Rosa fell silent, and could feel the unease stiffen into Daniel’s shoulder.

“Rosa? We are going home, aren’t we?”

She took a deep breath, released it. “It’s confusing,” she said.

“What’s confusing? We take the bear to Grigory, then we go home.”

“I’m not sure what we’re going to do with the bear.”

“But, Rosa—”

She continued, more forcefully, cutting him off, “And I’m not going home.”

He sat up and pulled back so he could look at her. Seconds passed.

“What?” he said at last.

“I’m not going back to Mir.”

He was frantic now, and the guilt soured her stomach.

“Why not? Why stay here? It’s full of horrors.”

“And wonders.”

“Rosa, don’t fuck with my head. You can’t possibly mean to stay here because the sky’s a pretty colour.”

Rosa turned away, and watched the fire. Shadows moved across her face. She searched for words. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Try me.”

Anticipation prickled. The feeling of adrenalin that she ordinarily loved so much, now so unpleasant. She was afraid, but she tried to smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Daniel. Last time I saw you, I promised to tell you something.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “You promised you’d explain why we split up.”

“It’s the same reason. The reason I have to stay here in Skazki.” She held out her hands, palms up and shrugged apologetically. “I realise now that it’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”

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