“We could go to my house,” Sofiya suddenly offers. “I’d like to see the rest of my family, and there are plenty of rooms.”
“Alexandra could probably also offer us shelter,” Mestyla says.
“Alexandra?” I ask.
“Zubrowa,” Izolda whispers reverently.
“She helped raise me.”
“We heard. Did you ever read her books?” Izolda asks as we start up again and cross over the train tracks toward the glossy train that glows invitingly in the damp murk.
“All of them. They were my most treasured possessions.” Mestyla blinks away tears.
For some reason, my mind dredges up my first sighting of her. She’d had a book in hand. Could it have been one of the Countess’s? I’d assumed it was a revolutionary edict, failing to decipher the title on the spine. If only pride hadn’t gotten in the way of me asking Konstantin to read it out to me.
“When they set fire to the tavern,” she croaks. “I lost almost all of them. I managed to save six, and that was only because I’d taken them out to reread during my stay at Alexandra’s. I hadn’t understood why my father was sending me there, but he seemed so…” Her voice catches. Quiets.
Guilt prickles my chest at the possibility that Svyato sent her away because our visit had alarmed him.
“Was your stay at Alexandra’s a coincidence?” Izolda asks, layering another coat of guilt over my heart.
“No. Atsa said he had to go out of town to meet with an investor.”
When tears fork down her cheeks, Izolda lets go of Sofiya and draws her niece into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mestyla.”
“Thank you,” she croaks.
I catch Sofiya knuckling her scarred cheek. Could the female I believed despicable be weeping?
Sure enough, she says, “My heart isn’t a lump of ice, Isla.”
I offer her my arm. “My family’s coming.”
She quirks a brow. “Is that a threat?”
“No. Just wondering if my new friend’s home can accommodate so many guests.”
“Oh.” She gives her damp skin another knuckle-lash. “I’m surprised you’re asking considering you’ve already toured my place.”
“I took a peek.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs. “You’re lucky we’re friends.”
I squeeze her arm. “Iamlucky.”
“A Crow friend…” She shakes her head. “Can’t wait to trade land travel for air travel.”
A chuckle bubbles up my throat. “Like Aodhan pointed out, we’re not domesticated reindeer.”
“Oh my Gods. We should totally domesticate a reindeer!”
“Actually, that does sound kind of fun,” I concede.
“Are my ears deceiving me, Iz, or are Sofiya and Isla plotting to tame wild creatures together?” Ilya’s voice feels like the warmest cloak on the coldest winter night.
“Want to join us?” I ask as he traipses over, his boots crunching on the frozen earth beneath.
“Fuck yeah! Can’t believe you’re even asking.”
