“What choice?” Katerina fought the urge to stamp her foot with frustration.
“You will see.” The maiden spun her wheel, once, twice. As if she’d summoned it, the jar of honey materialized at her feet, beside the Firebird’s cage. Next to it sat a tiny cup of blackcurrant syrup, its rich, bitter scent pervading the air of the cottage.
“Drink,” the mother urged her, stroking the golden-and-black thread. “Drink, and understand.”
Katerina knelt, pouring a thick stream of honey into the blackcurrant syrup, then tipped the cup to her lips. The flavor slid down her throat: anise and wildflowers, dark and light, tart and sweet. And with it came a sudden knowing, a conviction that was almost within her grasp?—
“Wake, Katerina Ivanova.”
Her eyes closed, she shook her head. The knowledge was almost hers, now. It was important—she must understand, she must act?—
“Wake,” the crone demanded, more urgently now. “The veil between Light and Darkness thins. Your life is in danger. Wake!”
Katerina’s eyes flickered open, half-expecting to see the Rozhanitsy sitting cross-legged in front of the campfire, thread in hand. But the women had vanished. In their place, a shape loomed over her, backlit by the fire. Pressure weighted her chest—was something crushing her?
“What—” she began, or tried to. The word died, cut off along with her air supply as hands wrapped around her throat. They squeezed, and Katerina gagged, trying to pry away the grip that sought to choke the life from her. But try as she might, she couldn’t get free.
Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint, air becoming a scarce commodity as she fought and bucked, desperate for escape. Chaos erupted around her, shouts and growls shattering the silence as she sent her fire outward, seeking to scorch whoever had hold of her. The veil between Light and Darkness thins, the crone had said. Saints, what if Niko were trying to kill her?
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. But?—
She twisted with the last of her strength, just as whoever had hold of her reared backward, shrieking, their grip tearing loose. Katerina sucked in air, one hand rising to her bruised throat and the other to her chest, to assure herself she was still breathing. Tears ran down her cheeks as she blinked, focusing on the thrashing figure, their head hung low. Someone had her assailant in an iron grip; they kicked and howled, but couldn’t get free.
Drawing one ragged breath after another, Katerina rose to her knees. Their campsite was in chaos: Alexei was shouting, Damien was snarling, and Sofi had hold of two of the horses, trying to quell their hysteria. Sparks from the rowan-fire flickered everywhere, burning twigs littering the ground, as if someone had run straight through it, heedless of the consequences. If the Darkness that inhabited Niko had come for her, had nearly killed her, what would she do?
You must choose, Katerina Ivanova.
The fire rose up in a blazing column, illuminating her attacker’s face, and she braced herself for the worst.
But it wasn’t her Shadow, nor his shades.
It was Ana.
Chapter Twenty-Six
NIKO
“Let her go,” Alexei roared, struggling to rip his Dimi from Niko’s grasp. But it wasn’t happening, not in this life nor the next.
If Niko hadn’t woken in time, the next life would’ve been the only one in which Ana existed. If she had succeeded in strangling Katerina, then he would have killed her to avenge his Dimi. And then he would have had to kill Alexei, which didn’t bear thinking about.
By the Saints, what was happening here?
“Let her go!” Alexei tugged at Niko’s arm, solid as an iron bar across Ana’s chest. “You have no right to restrain her. Look, your Dimi lives.”
He gestured at Katerina, which did nothing to restore Niko’s sense of equanimity. She sat in the dirt, coughing and wheezing. By the firelight, he could make out the circle of bruises already beginning to ring her neck. Damien knelt beside her, a gentle hand on her back, speaking in a low, soothing voice. Over the tumult, Niko deciphered you’ll be all right and breathe.
It was infuriating that he could touch and comfort Katerina so easily, when Niko could not. But he could avenge her honor. That, he could do.
“I have no right?” he growled, his grip on Ana tightening. “You look, Alexei. I woke to find Ana with her hands around my Dimi’s throat, choking the life out of her. I’m within my rights to defend Katerina in any way I see fit. Were Ana anyone else, I would have broken her neck and left her body for the crows.”
Alexei fell silent, doubtless trying to muster his next defense, as Ana bucked against Niko, a wild thing. The shades wanted nothing more than to devour her, to seep inside her and feed on her Light until she paid for what she’d done. He gritted his teeth, commanding them to bide. We need to know why she did this, he told them. What good will it do to kill her, if the true source of her enmity goes unchecked?
He was trying to convince himself as much as the power that seethed inside him. Because Saints, when he’d heard Katerina gasping for breath, when he’d woken to feel her panic and terror surging through the bond, all he’d wanted to do was eliminate the threat by any means necessary. He’d leapt up, prepared to slaughter a host of demons, imagining Berezin’s hands around her throat. But it had been Ana—Katerina’s best friend since the cradle. And even in his altered state, he knew taking her life without getting answers first would be unforgivable.
The horses whickered in alarm, entirely discomposed, for which Niko couldn’t blame them. With one last glance at Katerina, Damien rose and went to help Sofi calm them. That left Ana, whose thrashing had finally begun to slow, her irate Shadow, Niko, and Katerina, who’d stopped coughing, thank the Saints.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
