Date: 2013-01-30 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Science Fiction Fantasy
Description: The god of fire is dead. As he was killed, he unleashed a deadly wave of flame that reduced half the world to ashes. And 25 winters ago everything changed. After the fire, in a forest surrounded by high mountains, Eleni was born with a phenomenal power. In fear of her abilities, the terrified villagers imprison her during the day, and allow her out only at night to hunt and kill the dark creatures that prowl in the dense forest. But an unusual visitor from the Islands in the West has appeared; a man with a gift just as strange as hers. He tells Eleni that she is the new goddess of fire, born f
Publisher: Hellzapoppin Press

After The Fire

by

J.L. Murray

Copyright © 2013 by J.L. Murray

All Rights Reserved.

First Kindle Edition published Feb. 16, 2013.

Hellzapoppin Press, Honolulu Hawai'i.

Cover art by J.L. Murray

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Chapter One

The forest was moving. Eleni could feel it.

She crouched down and surveyed the valley, raising her head to sniff the air. Snow was coming soon; the crisp air smelled clean and cold. It was early this year. She scanned the landscape, her eyes sweeping over the impenetrable thickness of the wood, the trees thinning gradually as they approached the dark, sleeping village. Eleni continued, over the iron wall that surrounded the town, along the tall grasses of the meadow. She froze as she saw the grasses twitch, far back, where the forest thickened.

Eleni started as a black she-wolf emerged, dark as a shadow, and looked up at her perched on the side of the hill. The wolf's eyes glinted, gold in the darkness. They watched each other for a long moment, then the wolf suddenly broke into a run, heading straight for her. She watched as the animal bounded up the slope, its powerful muscles easily closing the distance, then stopped just short of Eleni. Her muzzle shone with wetness and she smelled of blood.

“What took you so long?” said Eleni, her voice hoarse. She was not used to speaking aloud. The wolf snorted, almost derisively, then turned and stood next to her, fur brushing her shoulder, joining her in looking out over the forest. The usual night sounds emerged from the deep wood: a howl in the distance, the chittering of a rodent, the rustling of leaves. Eleni heard a twig snap and the wolf's ears twitched. A low growl rumbled in the wolf's chest. Eleni looked toward the sound. It was out of place, as though a two-legs stepped on it and then froze. Eleni could see at night almost as well as the wolf, but it was the feeling that told her something was very wrong.

Eleni moved along the ridge, keeping her body close to the ground. She could feel eyes on her, following her. It was in the wood, close to the village. Not an animal, but something dark and hungry. Eleni nodded at the wolf and the animal instantly turned and slinked off in the opposite direction. Eleni watched her circle around the ridge and head down the slope. The wolf moved slowly and steadily, and could easily be mistaken for a shadow.

Knowing she had been seen, Eleni stood up, pushing her tangled hair away from her face. Small tendrils of steam rose off her body as she walked down the incline, towards the area where she felt the creature. She heard another twig crack, then a scurrying in the brush. Eleni walked quickly and just inside the first stand of trees, saw movement on the ground. She held out her arm and a bright illuminating flame rose from the palm of her hand. Eleni saw it and curled her lip in disgust.

“Drekavac,” Eleni said under her breath. The creature's skin was mottled pink and hung loose at the joints. It was completely devoid of hair and its face was round and soft-looking. The eyes glowed green and Eleni sighed as she saw it open its dripping mouth, knowing what was to come. The scream echoed against the mountainsides, a high-pitched shriek that made even Eleni flinch. It went on for what seemed like an eternity until Eleni raised her hand, forming the fire into a ball.

The drekavac's eyes bulged with fear. It scuttled along the forest floor on long, spider-like legs covered in fleshy skin, making hissing noises as it went. A growl issued from the other side of the creature and it shrank back from the wolf, moving toward Eleni again. In its panic it stumbled, falling over its own legs.

“There are no babies here,” said Eleni. “There's nothing for you to eat. Go back where you came from.”

The drekavac hissed at her again, and the wolf bared her teeth, her growl growing deeper and more menacing. The creature's eyes rolled around looking for a way past Eleni, into the village beyond. It opened its mouth and shrieked again and, righting itself, clambered toward Eleni, great pincers emerging from its jowls. Eleni pushed the flame forward and kept pushing, creating a bright orange jet that surrounded the monster, blackening its mottled pink skin. The drekavac thrashed on the ground, the fire that was consuming it scorching the fallen leaves. The screaming ceased abruptly as the beast collapsed, its bones dry sticks, its charred flesh shrinking into embers.

Eleni approached the smoking corpse. With her bare foot she kicked wet leaves and earth onto the creature, making the sparks hiss as they touched the moisture. She gagged on the stench. Dark creatures always smelled like defecation and rot when they died, but it was worse when they burned. Satisfied that the flames would not spread to the trees, Eleni turned to the wolf.

“Now we hunt,” she said. The wolf leaned against her affectionately, panting happily. Eleni ran her fingers through her thick, coarse fur. The two, as if sharing the same thought, at once began to walk deeper into the forest, Eleni's gait just as wild and fluid as the wolf at her side.

They spotted the boar shortly after the moon had arced over the trees above them. Eleni had several ermine and a rabbit laced together over her shoulder. Another rabbit had been given to the wolf. The boar was rutting with its long tusks at the roots of a tree by the creek. The tusks were as long as the squat creature's body. It looked ungainly, but Eleni knew it could be at her in moments with its tusks in her belly.

The wolf growled and the pig looked up, its small eyes searching. Eleni hunched down, watching through a stand of bushes. She didn't care for the taste of pig, but no matter. It wasn't for her. She would eat the ermine. She crept around the bushes, not wishing to startle the animal. If he startled, she would have to chase it. And it was too close to dawn for that.

The wolf was quiet now and simply trailed behind Eleni, mist exhaling from her snout like clouds of smoke. The breeze blew Eleni's hair behind her. The boar couldn't smell them, but she could smell it. Wild and earthy mingled with the pungent smell of scavenger shit. She wrinkled her nose. She couldn't understand why anyone could stand the meat of such a creature, but the villagers loved it. They celebrated whenever Eleni brought one home. She could hear their reveling from her little metal room.

She set her bundle down under the bushes and crawled along on her hands and knees. She could hit the animal from this distance, but she might set the close-growing trees afire, and she couldn't risk that. So little of the forest had remained after the fire.

She moved smoothly through the underbrush, the earth cool under her calloused hands and knees. The boar was digging at something, but Eleni couldn't tell what. She stopped behind a tree, looking back around to see the wolf was standing guard at her bundle. That was good. She would rather lose the boar than lose her own dinner. And the wolf's belly was closer to the ground, making her an easier target for a sharp tusk.

Eleni slowly moved to peer around the vast trunk. The boar was digging furiously now. Eleni frowned. A blue glow was illuminating the pig's dirt-encrusted snout. It made a grunting noise every time it lunged at the dirt. Eleni edged smoothly toward the animal, her body now exposed as she moved in for the kill. She made a fist, getting ready to strike. She could feel the fire inside her arm, moving toward her hand, ready to be released. She ached to let it go, but she had to be closer.

Suddenly, the boar stopped digging. It raised its snout and sniffed the air. Then it stuck its face back into the hole. There was a moment where its body seemed to tense, as if startled. Then it began to squeal, its cries muted by the dirt. Its legs scrabbled, kicking up dirt. It was stuck in its own hole. Eleni didn't miss a beat. She let her legs propel her forward, then she opened her hand and released the fire. It surged forward, both painful and freeing at the same time, a feeling Eleni knew all so well. It felt as if she were breathing again after holding her breath for a very long time. She let the flame flow, thinning its stream gradually, until the boar wasn't screaming or scrabbling any longer. Its body twitched, then fell away from its head, the neck already cauterized by the fire, the bones and singed meat at the wound smoking and crackling.

Eleni relaxed and went over to examine her prey. Moving past the carcass, she squatted to examine the head still lodged in the ground. The animal had carved out a huge hole , encompassing well past the sides of its head. Maybe its tusks had become stuck on a rock or root. She grabbed the big head by its ears and tugged hard. The head came out quite easily, knocking her off balance and making her fall back into a sitting position, the head in her lap. Then she saw the glow again, a faint blue that intensified as she looked at it, growing brighter and brighter, until she had to shield her eyes. The light rose up out of the hole, radiating as bright as a sun, its center a blinding point of white that flickered like lightning in the mountains. Eleni imagined a strange bird made of light from the way it was hovering in the air, the edges of light seeming to shift like the slow fluttering of wings. It made her eyes ache, but she couldn't look away.

It hovered above the hole for a moment, almost seeming to appraise her. Then it began to buzz and, so fast that all she saw was a bright blue blur, it shot through the air like an arrow and hit her square in the chest where she sat. Eleni couldn't move. There was a wiggling sensation right over her heart, as if it were burrowing into her. She could hear the wolf barking and snarling madly around her. She couldn't breathe. Then the burrowing stopped and slowly, steadily, a new and strange sensation spread out from her heart. She realized vaguely that this must be the feeling of cold. It was unlike anything she had felt before. She could feel the ice spread through her arms, belly, legs, and then to her fingers and toes. She could hear her teeth chattering.

She knew suddenly that this was dying. She was being killed by the creature inside her. These were her last moments. She forced her head slowly to the side to look at the wolf. The skin of her neck crackled as she turned, like a crust of ice on a snowbank. There was no sense to this. Dark creatures weren't made of light. She looked her wolf in the eyes. She wasn't barking or snarling any longer, but simply staring into Eleni, her golden eyes providing a spark. The wolf's unblinking eyes bored into her, and she knew then that she had to fight. Fight or die. And she knew how.

Eleni forced her fingers closed one at a time with creaking, crackling noises. She gasped at the pain and stiffness. And as she gasped, she could suddenly feel air filling her lungs again. This gave her strength, and she felt her hand clench into a fist. She narrowed her eyes, staring at the hand, the knuckles turning blue. She could see veins of ice spreading over her skin like a blue armor. She forced another breath into her lungs and when she blew out this time it was not steam or vapor, but an acrid, bitter smoke.

Eleni watched the ice recede from her wrist and up her arm. Slowly, her knuckles turned back to their normal color. Gradually, excruciatingly, she brought the fist toward her body. She felt the agonizing pain of the cold tickling every nerve in her body. She breathed deeply again and felt the cold dissipating from her toes up to her knees. She was fighting it, and knew in that instant that she would win.

With a groan she finally brought her fist to her chest. She exhaled again, the flames warming her lips. She felt the pressure in her fist building, growing more uncomfortable, needing to release. She opened her hand and put her palm to her bare chest, just over her heart.

She let go.

She felt the fire release itself through her hand and back into her body. She felt a twitch in her chest as the familiar warmth wrapped around her heart. Eleni pushed the fire deeper and groaned as something clenched inside her, grasping and clawing at her insides. The sensation seemed to tremble, and then she felt the cold inside her lessen. The warmth spread to her chest, then her belly, then her arms and legs. The frost melted from her skin, no longer veined with blue. Her teeth still chattered, but she was alive. She removed her hand from her chest, her arm feeling as if the bones had turned to water. She felt a bubbling where her hand had been and looked down to see a blue watery mist coming out of her chest. It hovered without form in front of her for a moment. Then it disappeared with the wind.

Eleni sank back onto her elbows, breathing hard. She didn't understand what had just happened. The blue light had been unlike any dark creature she had ever seen. And no creature in the forest had ever gotten the better of her, not even as a child. The wolf approached her and began lapping up the melted frost on her arm. She smelled burnt meat and hair, and saw the boar's head still in her lap, now charred to a crisp. She shoved it away and it rolled along the ground.

“You could have warned me,” said Eleni to the wolf. She was answered by a doleful look. She stood up. She was feeling shaky, but not as weak as she had felt a moment ago. Her teeth still chattered, but it wasn't the violent, desperate chattering of being slowly frozen from the inside out. Eleni shuddered, but not from the cold. She never wanted to feel that way again.

She walked over to the pig carcass and hefted it up. She nearly fell, but steadied herself. Without its head it wasn't very heavy. And she had always been strong, especially after starting her nightly activities. Walking slowly over to the bushes, she began to lower herself down to pick up the bundle of smaller prey, but the wolf slid under her and grasped the bundle lightly in her jaw. Eleni sighed with relief. She didn't know if she'd be able to stand back up with the weight of the pig on her shoulder. The wolf started moving back toward the village. It would be dawn soon.

As they approached the village she felt the prickle of eyes upon her. The wolf growled as they spotted an oddly-shaped silhouette in the clearing. At first Eleni thought it was another creature from the forest, but then it moved and she realized it was a person leading a horse. Krasna's last horse had died ten winters ago, so it was not one from the village. He had seen her, though, whoever he was; she felt it. She gauged the distance to the gate. She could make it past the figure quickly if she dropped the boar. She still felt too weak to attempt to run with the weight on her shoulder. She thought about going back into the forest, but one look at the sky told her that was not a choice. It wasn't about her. If she wasn't back by dawn... She didn't want to think about what could happen.

Eleni made a fist and felt the familiar pressure. She could still defend herself. Her power was weaker than usual, but it was still there. The wolf was standing, still as a statue, at her side, staring at the figure coming across the clearing.

“You are quiet,” Eleni said to the wolf. The wolf looked at her, the bundle still in her mouth, the golden eyes calm. The figure approached them. Eleni could smell wind and rain and horse sweat, could hear the quiet padding of hooves on the soft grass. The man was big. Bigger than Cosmin, the biggest man in the village. She put her hand out in front of her when he approached.

He had a bushy beard and wore a strange, thick cloth around his waist, his leather boots coming up to his knees. He was thick and strong by the way he walked, and under the brim of a woolen hat Eleni could see his eyes sparkling. He smiled.

“That's something you don't see every day,” he said. He had an accent Eleni didn't recognize. It wasn't from the south, where Eleni's mother was from. And it was very different from the villagers' drawl, more clipped and guttural. Eleni glared at him suspiciously. The man looked down at the wolf, who was being eerily quiet. He looked back to Eleni. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” said Eleni. Her teeth chattered and she cursed herself inwardly. “Are you a Reiver?”

“Do I look like a Reiver?” said the man.

“I don't know,” said Eleni. “I've never seen one.”

“Then how do you know they exist?” said the man. His horse snorted and he let go of the rope. The horse took a few steps nearby and began to graze on the grass.

“Because Reivers stole our sheep,” said Eleni. It felt odd to be talking to another person. The only other person that said more than a few words to her was Alin.

“Your sheep?” said the man. “Your family's?”

“They belong to my village,” she said.

The man took off his hat. His hair was dark and mussed. “I'm not a Reiver,” he said. “I was looking for something, but I lost it.” He frowned. “Where are your clothes?”

Eleni looked down at herself. The weight of the boar's carcass on her shoulder was making her ache. She could feel the morning coming. Any second now the light would be coming over the mountain. “I have to go,” she said. She started edging around him.

“Wait,” he said. “I won't hurt you. Here,” he said. He took off his thick, woven outer coat. He took a step toward her. She made a fist and a ball of flame appeared in her hand when she opened it. The man stopped. His eyes shone in the morning light. He looked from Eleni's hand to her face.

“You can't hurt me,” said Eleni. “Men have tried before.”

The man's voice was quiet when he spoke. “I don't want to hurt you. I just want to give you my coat. You're shivering.”

“I'm not cold,” she said defensively. “There was something in the forest. It got inside me.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Was it blue?”

“Yes,” said Eleni.

He stared at her. He rubbed his beard with his knuckles. “No one has ever survived a strago,” he said. “It took me out of my way. I've been tracking it for several days now. How did you get it out?”

“I didn't,” said Eleni, still edging away. “I burned it. It died.”

“While it was inside of you?” said the man. “You can do that?”

“I can do many things,” said Eleni. “Right now I'm leaving.”

“I could come with you,” said the man.

“No, ” said Eleni, stopping and staring at him. “You cannot come. Don't follow me. They will hurt her if I bring you back. They might hurt you, too. Please stay away. I'll burn you if I have to.”

The man raised his hands and took a step back. “All right. I don't want to get you into trouble. But please. Take the coat.” He held it out to her.

“Why?” said Eleni.

“Because it will give you comfort,” said the man, as if baffled by the question. “When you're cold, you bundle up.”

“I've never been cold before,” said Eleni. “I don't like it.” She closed her fist and willed the fire back inside her body. She took the garment he held out to her. It was scratchy and still warm from his body.

“Where are your clothes?” he said. “Do they burn off?”

“No,” said Eleni. “They take them.”

“In your village?” said the man. “That seems unkind.”

Eleni didn't say anything. She felt a movement at her side and the wolf was nudging her hand with the prey from the night. Eleni took it and the wolf bounded away, towards the woods.

“You trained it well,” said the man.

“She is not trained,” said Eleni. “She usually tries to rip the throats out of anything that moves. I don't know why she likes you.” A bell clanged behind the high wall of the village. “I have to go. Please, don't let them see you.”

“They call me Fin,” he called after her as she hurried toward the village. She didn't look back as she rushed home, her back and legs aching, and her chest sore and tender where the strago had been. She made it to the iron wall just as the bell stopped clanging. She dropped the boar thankfully on the ground outside the gate. An old man's head peeked over.

“You're late,” he said.

“I brought a boar,” Eleni said.

“You'd better get inside before he notices,” said Sabin. “You know how mad he gets when you're late.”

Eleni glowered at him, but walked briskly around the wall, her long legs feeling light without the weight of the pig, until she came to an opening. She walked into her iron box, the smell of metal heavy in the tiny, square space, and dropped heavily onto her straw cot. The metal squealed as someone began to lower the outer hatch. Eleni had one final glimpse out towards the forest and saw the outline of a man leading a horse away, towards the rising sun. She thought she saw him stop and turn to look towards her just as the hatch clanged shut and she was left in darkness.

Chapter Two

Fin dismounted his horse, Epona, and handed the reins to a boy who ran up when he arrived. Fin forgot what his name was, but the boy beamed up at him, eager for any chore he could get. Fin ruffled his hair and left him to the task, making a beeline for the dwelling at the center of the camp.

“Fin!” said a high voice, just as a small girl latched herself onto his leg. “You came back!”

Fin lifted her up and smiled at her. She was so thin she barely weighed anything. He frowned for a moment as he saw the malnourishment in the bruises under her eyes and the way the skin stretched on a face far too young to have any right to know of such things. He remembered himself and smiled again.

“I could never leave you, Rika,” he said, making her beam. He set her gently on the ground. They must have gone through their stores of dried mutton. “Here, have the rest of this,” he said, handing her a pouch from his hip. He crouched down. “Don't tell your father, now,” he said, putting a finger to his lips. “He'll try to give that to your brother. That's for you, you hear?”

The tiny wisp of a girl nodded excitedly and ran off with the pouch of stale bread and hard cheese. He saw her duck behind a large tree at the edge of the encampment. She needed it far more than he did. He saw Elek sitting on a log stoking a fire. Elek locked eyes with him and smiled, his eyes cold and almost daring Fin to act.

It was their way. The men were the kings of their castles, or at least their tents, and the women took care of the men. The children were an afterthought. Fin thought of his own mother, her memory still raw. If anyone ever denied her food, they would have had to answer to him. If he had a small crumb of food, he would gladly give it to her, or to any of his sisters; even his brother. He didn't understand the ways of these people. But it was not his place to interfere. Magda depended on them, for whatever reason.

“Tell me,” she said, rising with difficulty when he entered her tent. She had aged more in the last twenty years than the entire time he had known her. She had always looked old, but lately she had started to look hunched and frail. Her hair still hung in a braid down her back, though the plait grew thinner every time he saw her. Parts of her scalp showed through her hair. Fin wondered how long she could last without her sisters.

“All dead,” said Fin. He found it hard to say the words without a tremor in his voice. He took Magda's elbow and helped her to sit back down on the cot. The women had raised it up with flat rocks so Magda wouldn't struggle to get up and down. Fin sat next to her and Magda laid a cool hand on his arm.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

He made himself smile, though it was almost painful. “It's not important right now,” he said. He took her cold, thin hand in his.

“I may be old, but I'm not blind, Alaunus,” she said, blinking at him with her good eye. “Not completely anyway. Not yet. There is pain in you. They were your kin. You need time to mourn.”

“I need time to find out what is happening,” said Fin, the smile gone from his lips. He felt a hollow in his chest, a numbness that he had only felt with grief. “Can you see anything?”

Magda let go of his hand and clasped her own together. “My Sight is fading,” she said. “I need to find my sisters. I fear I am dying. Without them, I am nothing. You heard nothing of Danai in the islands? Of Anja?”

“Nothing,” said Fin. “But there is something else.”

“Good news, I hope,” said Magda. “I cannot bear more bad news. I feel my heart is breaking.”

“I cannot be sure,” said Fin, “but I think I found Zaric.”

Magda's good eye grew wide, the cloudy green clearing and blazing at him like a brilliant emerald. “In the islands?” she said, grasping his arm again. “Where?”

Fin smiled, and this time it didn't hurt him to do so. It felt good to deliver good news, however unsure it was. He felt the hollow in his chest pain him a little less, the burden not quite so heavy. “Nowhere near as far,” he said.

Magda frowned. “Speak, boy. Tell me your news.”

“Just on the other side of these woods,” said Fin. “Not more than a day's walk from here.”

Magda stared at him in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

Fin shook his head. “No. But it's something.”

“Who is he?”

“Not a he,” said Fin. “A she. A girl. Or, rather, a young woman. I met her as she was returning to her village. It was the first village I have seen in these woods since the fire. Completely surrounded with an iron fence.”

Magda snorted. “As if that will do them good.”

“I do not think they even realize why they are safe. If I am right, it isn't the iron that the dark creatures fear. It's the girl.”

“What was she like?” said Magda. “Did she look like him?”

Fin shook his head. “No. Not a bit. She's a small thing, with long hair as red as the fire she wields.”

“You sound smitten,” said Magda with a knowing eye. “Be careful, my dear.”

“Not smitten,” said Fin. “She intrigues me. She was like a wild thing. She traveled with a wolf, a big black one. It must have stood nearly to her shoulder. It seemed to obey her, or at least be comfortable with her. And she killed a strago.”

“Oh?” said Magda, surprised.

“After it was inside her chest,” said Fin, still impressed.

“It must be him,” said Magda. “It must be. We have found him after all this time. You must tell her to come. Does she know what she is?”

“I think she knows very little of anything,” said Fin. “She was afraid I would come to her village. And I don't think she would have hesitated in stopping me.”

“A woman that knows her own power,” said Magda. “That bodes well. It means she's not afraid of herself. It's so very common, you know. With the new ones.”

“Aye, I know,” said Fin. He rubbed his beard.

“Oh, I forgot,” Magda laughed. “I forget you're not one of the old ones, Alaunus.”

“Magda, the village. There's something else. Something wrong about the village.”

“What is it?”

“She didn't want me helping her,” he said. “She was carrying a pig on her shoulder, and she looked about to fall over. After a strago she's lucky she was still breathing, and the damn girl was carrying a boar. It was as if she was afraid someone from the village would see me. She said I'd get someone killed if I followed her. And then they locked her up in a great iron box. I don't understand what is happening. I feel I should return. To try to help her. To bring her back.”

“That would no doubt be the wisest thing to do,” said Magda. “If she is who you think she is, and things are as bad as you say, she will be a target. If word spreads of her existence, alone in the forest, it's like she is just baiting them.”

“I'll leave Epona here. A horse would just draw attention. I'll sleep and rest for a day before I go. It's been a long journey. And I've had many hard truths since I saw you last.”

“I know, dear boy,” said Magda. “You rest now. We have lost loved ones, but it seems we may gain an ally.”

“I hope you're right,” said Fin. He stood up, stretching. He was sore and weary from his travels. He walked toward the tent Magda always insisted they keep for him. He lay down on the thin, scratchy cot. As he drifted off to sleep he thought of the sky of fire from that day. They couldn't afford to be wrong. Without the girl, they were already dead.

Chapter Three

Eleni woke when the hatch squealed open and flooded the box with light. Someone stepped in and shut the door behind them. Eleni blinked and rubbed her eyes. A lantern hovered in midair. It took a moment before her eyes adjusted to see the man holding it.

“I brought you some food,” said Alin, “but I see you've already eaten.” He nudged the pile of rodent fur with his boot and took a few limping steps toward her. He lowered himself stiffly to the ground next to Eleni and sat, placing the lantern next to him.

“The snows are coming,” she said, sitting up. “You always get sore when the weather changes.”

“That would explain it,” said Alin. “Are you well?”

“How is my mother?” she said, ignoring his question.

Alin looked at his hands. “She is well,” he said.

“Does she ask about me?”

“Every day,” said Alin sadly. “She asks after you every day.”

“I want to see her,” said Eleni. “Please, Alin. I need to see my mother.”

Alin looked at her. “You know I cannot help you do that, child. I would if I could. But Cosmin would kill my family.”

“I could kill him,” said Eleni. “If I wanted to, I could kill him and you wouldn't have to be afraid.”

“You know it is not just Cosmin,” said Alin. “Who is to say his friends would not kill your mother, my daughter, my son before you ever got to them? Best to just comply.”

“I grow tired of complying,” said Eleni. “I grow tired of this life. I sleep in an iron box. I am a prisoner, a slave. They say I am dangerous and it's true. I am more dangerous than they know. How long will it be before I stop hunting for them? How long will it be before I walk into that village and burn it to the ground?”

“Eleni, you must not say such things. Your mother would be in grave danger if you did this.” Alin looked away as he spoke.

“You never look at me when I ask about my mother,” said Eleni. “What do you know?” Eleni could smell his bitter sweat, she could feel him fidgeting with his hands. He said nothing. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He did not look at her. “You were a friend to my mother,” said Eleni. “Once. You were a friend to me as well. But now I think you are just like the rest of them. You speak lies and half-truths. I do not think you came here to bring me food. You know I hate swine. I think you came here to spy for Cosmin.”

Alin didn't respond. Just shook his head.

“If you want something to tell Cosmin, tell him this: I can leave any time I want to,” said Eleni. Alin looked quickly at her.

“How can that be?” he said. These walls are as thick as my hand is long. No one could escape.”

Eleni looked at him defiantly. Without unlocking her pale eyes from his, she placed her hand on the cool metal of the wall. Alin's mouth dropped open as he watched. The metal under Eleni's hand grew quickly red-hot. Within moments it began to sink into the softly melting iron. Wisps of smoke rose from her hand. She pulled it away with a wet slurping sound. The red heat of the wall quickly cooled, leaving the imprint of her hand. Eleni held her palm out to him so the light from the lantern shone on her skin.

“Not a mark,” breathed Alin. “Why do you stay? Why do you not flee?”

Eleni's voice was cold when she spoke. “I want my mother,” she said. “And I want her alive.”

Alin looked at her face for a long moment. “What will you do?” he said. He was sweating profusely.

“I will bide my time,” said Eleni. “I will hunt for the village. For now. But not because of Cosmin or you or anyone else. For my mother. See that she is well-fed and I may be merciful when the time is right.”

“Why do you wait?” said Alin. “Why not just take her now?”

“Because the time is not right,” she said.

“When will the time be right?”

“If I knew that,” said Eleni, “I would not tell you. First snow is coming, though. I do not think she would survive in the wild through the winter. I will wait until spring. So sleep easy, old man. You could very well be dead by the time I come.” Eleni saw him swallow heavily, as if trying to swallow his fear.

There was no joy to be had in frightening him. He had been more kind to her than anyone else. But she was tired of these games. It was time the village knew who held their fate. They had no livestock after the Reivers came last full moon. Their crops had rotted. Without Eleni, everyone in Krasna would die, either from starvation, invasion, or from the predators that lurked in the forest.

Alin stared at Eleni, his bushy eyebrows quivering, his lips moving, trying to form words but failing. “I want you to go now,” said Eleni. “Lock me up if you must, but know that it will do no good.”

Alin rose slowly, heavily. He lifted his lantern and turned to leave. He banged on the hatch door three times.

“Alin,” said Eleni. He turned to look at her, slow with shock. “Take that plate with you,” she said pointing to the food he had left on her pile of fresh carcasses. “The smell makes me sick.”

Alin reached down and took the plate and when the door opened, lifted by two men that Eleni recognized as Cosmin's friends, Alin walked slowly out. The door closed behind him and in the darkness Eleni made a fist. Lying in her cot she opened her hand and watched the flame flicker, casting strange shadows on the wall of her prison. She closed her fist and extinguished the flame. Then she rolled over and slept.

The hatch squealed open again what seemed to Eleni moments later. But after getting her bearings, she realized it must be almost nightfall. The light streaming in from the open door told her it was dusk. And the hulking silhouette standing there looking at her could only be one man.

“What do you want, Cosmin?” she said, annoyance in her voice. He stepped into the darkness of the metal room. He had lost his swagger, and his movements were slow and uneasy. He crouched down just out of arm's length from Eleni and rested on his haunches. He rubbed his hands on his knees. Eleni looked past him. He had left the hatch door open. He'd never done that before. He held a bundle which he tossed to her. They landed softly on her cot.

“Clothes for you,” said Cosmin. “Fabric is scarce now, so try not to burn them.”

“Alin has spoken to you,” said Eleni.

“Yes,” said Cosmin. The smugness that usually permeated everything he said had disappeared. It was very unlike him. Eleni sat up, her head foggy from lack of sleep.

“How is my mother?”

“I cannot let you see her,” said Cosmin.

“Why not?” said Eleni, her voice hard.

“I cannot let you into my village,” said Cosmin. “You are a danger to everyone beyond the wall. You must understand, I have to look out for my people.”

“It's my village, too,” said Eleni. “I was born there.”

“Your mother was an outsider,” said Cosmin. His voice was quiet, calm, but his body had become twitchy, as though he'd like to be anywhere but here, speaking to her. Like he itched to be away. “We still have no knowledge where she came from.”

“Then ask her,” said Eleni.

“She does not speak to us,” said Cosmin. “Not anymore.”

“Bring her out, then,” said Eleni. “Bring her to me and I will not have to come.”

Cosmin was quiet for a time. He looked toward the open door. “I cannot,” he said finally. “I fear the winter too much to let her go.”

“You are making plans for your own funeral, Cosmin,” Eleni said quietly.

“If you kill me now,” he said, a tremor in his voice, “Rastin has instructions to slit her throat. He will not hesitate.” Eleni knew this to be true. Of all Cosmin's friends, Rastin was the most fearsome. He was smaller than the others, but there was a manic look about his eyes that told her that he would do anything if he could get away with it.

“If this is the way of things,” said Eleni, “it will not end well. For any of us.”

“The way of things has not been well for a long time,” said Cosmin. He shook his shaggy head. “There is no good left in this cruel world. Kill us if you can, but we will continue to defend ourselves. Continue to bring us game and your mother will be well-fed. We can gather wild vegetation during the day, but we dare not go deep into the wood. We are not strong enough, not like you. We cannot survive without you, not after losing the crops and the sheep. But your mother will not survive if you leave us. And she will die if you murder any one of us.”

Eleni glowered at the broken man. She leaned forward and held out her hand. A flame sprang to life. Cosmin looked at it, his face illuminated in the light, the darkened circles under his eyes, the lines deep in his face. He was not much older than Eleni, yet he looked like an old man. There was even white in his beard. “You will burn,” said Eleni. “And you won't know it has happened until you smell the flesh melting off your bones. If you treat me like an animal, I will hunt you like prey.”

“I will not let that happen,” said Cosmin. He rose slowly and took the few steps to the open door. He stopped and turned to look at her. “I am sorry,” he said.

“If you did not know that I had the power to harm you, you would not be sorry,” said Eleni.

Cosmin nodded slowly. “No,” he said. “The gods will punish me as they see fit.” He left, ducking through the doorway. Eleni watched for a long time, putting out the flame in her palm. No one came to close the door. She was no longer a physical prisoner. Now she just had to bide her time until the moment was right.

She put the clothes on, a simple rough-woven dress, worn through and patched in several spots. She left the wool boots on her cot. Eleni turned to leave, then crouched down and pulled the jacket Fin had given her out of the corner. She smelled it. It smelled of smoke, like her hair. She breathed in deeply. Under her own scent she smelled something clean and cold. Like the wind. She put it on over her dress and walked out the door.

It was turning dark. She closed her eyes and felt the night rolling in like a wave. Eleni looked up at the iron wall. It had taken the men of Krasna years to finish it. All they had was iron and sheep after the fire. Now they just had the iron. Eleni knew it wrapped all the way around the village. It was little defense if something really wanted to get in. It was two or three men high, but it could be scaled. She supposed it gave people comfort to have the wall there.

“Move along, Eleni,” called a voice. She smiled at Sabin who had an arrow notched. He aimed at her shakily. “I like you, girl. But I will follow orders.”

Eleni followed the top of the wall with her eyes. Cosmin must have put every man in the village on the wall. She smiled again. “You cannot stay there forever, Sabin,” she said, walking away. She would wait until spring to take her mother. She could be patient. But best not to let them know. She would keep her plans secret.

The wolf joined her as she reached the field. Crops used to grow here, row upon row. But last spring nothing had sprouted but weeds. Now it looked like any other field. Alin had said that the gods had forgotten about them. She looked for Fin, even knowing he wouldn't be there. Such a strange name. She wondered from where he had come. Or where he was going. She followed the path she had seen him take, following it to the edge of the wood, then lost the feel of him. It wasn't a scent exactly, but she could usually trail something once she had a bead on it. But it had been too long. She walked into the forest anyway, though she was surprised not to see the marks of his horse's hooves anywhere. Who was this man? This outsider that came from the world that she had been told no longer existed. What else was out there?

The wolf growled and Eleni followed his eyes. Something white flashed in front of her, making her flinch. A white bird landed just above her and looked at her. A white raven. It turned its head this way and that, taking note of her. Eleni looked down at the wolf. She was no longer growling. She was staring at the bird and then she lowered her head in an odd way. Almost as though bowing to it. Eleni looked at the raven. It looked back. She frowned. Ravens were not supposed to be white. It wasn't albino, like the rabbit her mother had showed her once as a child. That rabbit had red eyes and snow white fur. Eleni had even been able to touch it as her mother held it. But the raven didn't have red or even pale eyes. It had normal beady raven eyes.

The raven let out a shriek and flew to a higher branch. Eleni marked it, but moved on. There was no sign of the strange man from the night before. The creatures were quiet. As if even they, the beasts and monsters of the wood, feared Eleni as well.

She walked with the wolf until her feet were tired and the hem of her dress was wet with dew. There were no monsters this night. And the raven followed her incessantly, squawking occasionally. Shooing it away did no good. It just hopped out of Eleni's reach and watched her in an eerie way, as if it knew her.

Finally, just before dawn, Eleni spotted a deer. A great deer with horns that spread out from its skull like the bony hands of a giant. Eleni crept up on one side, the wolf on the other. She held out her hand and the buck was dead before it even registered the scent of wolf and fire. She went to the carcass. The head was still partially attached, the wound burned black by her fire. There was no life in his eyes. Eleni let the wolf feed on the meat from the throat. Then she used her hand to cook the remains of the tender meat and picked at it with her fingers, careful not to soil her only garment. When she had her fill, she hefted the deer up, her powerful muscles working to keep her upright with the great weight on her shoulder.

She had once seen Cosmin try to lift a carcass like this when she was a child. She had giggled as he staggered underneath it, finally letting it drop to the ground when it was obvious he couldn't carry it. But strength had always come to her easily. The pig from the night before had been difficult only because she was weak from the blue creature that attacked her. Now she walked lithely with the deer on her shoulder, the horns poking into her thigh with every step. The wolf ran off, as she always did at dawn. When Eleni reached the village gates she dropped the animal unceremoniously into the dirt.

She looked up to see Rastin looking down at her with an arrow aimed at her head. She smiled at him and let a flame burst from her hand. He pulled back his bow further and she walked away. When she took her mother from the village, Rastin would not live to see her walk away. She would make sure of that.

Eleni slept soundly that night for the first time in many months. She was usually plagued by strange, fevered dreams of faces she didn't know and places she'd never been. But to her relief, she slept dreamlessly with the door to her iron box wide open and the scent of the traveler wrapped around her.

She woke at sunset, feeling refreshed. She walked away from the village, ten men pointing arrows at her back. The wolf joined her as she walked toward the river. When she got there, she carefully hung the jacket on a tree, followed by her dress. She stepped into the water and washed herself. She could tell the water was probably frigid, but it didn't affect her. She could sense the cold, but she couldn't feel it. When she had scrubbed the grime off of her body and hands and feet, she submerged her head and let the current of the river wash her hair.

It had been her hair that had first worried the village folk. Her mother told her. It was an omen after the fire to have a child with hair the color of flame, even though her mother's had been nearly as bright. At the time Cosmin's father, Farin, had been in charge. He had been a level-headed man. The day after Farin died, Eleni had seen the blacksmith working on a great iron box. Her box. In a month's time, she had been sent to live there. She had seen her mother every day after that until five winters ago. Eleni hadn't seen her since.

Eleni wrung out her hair as she emerged from the water. She wished she had a comb. Her mother used to come and comb her hair. By the time she reached her clothes, the water had evaporated from her body, becoming steam and trailing away into the cold wind. She dressed and walked along the snaking tree roots, smooth and cool under her feet, to find the wolf. The animal joined her, licking blood from her muzzle.

Eleni looked past her to see a freshly-killed polecat. The wolf licked her snout again. There was a flash of white and something landed on what was left of the carcass. The white raven from the night before looked at her and thrust its beak into the polecat's face. It tore at the fur to get at the meat within.

`“Strange-looking creature, is it not?” said a deep voice behind her. Eleni jumped, moving quickly away from the noise. The traveler was standing there, smiling at her.

“Where did you come from?” said Eleni, moving further away from him.

“I came to see you,” he said. The wolf was looking steadily at the man and Eleni expected the creature to run at him and sink teeth into soft flesh. Instead, the wolf walked over to the man, sniffed him, and kept walking. Eleni looked at the man, Fin, in shock.

“No one ever sneaks up on me,” said Eleni.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to speak with you.”

“Why does the wolf not tear you apart?”

The man shrugged. “I have a way with animals.”

“You are wearing clothes now,” he said. His eyes twinkled as he looked at the jacket. His jacket.

“They are afraid of me,” she said.

“Weren't they always?” said Fin.

“They are afraid in a different way,” she said. “They know they cannot control me. It scares them.”

“They stopped locking you up,” he said.

“You were watching me?” she said, narrowing her eyes. “How long have you been here?”

“Don't worry,” he said smiling. “Nothing I haven't seen before. Remember?”

Eleni looked away from him, listening to the forest. It had been so quiet for the last few days. No monsters. She didn't know what it meant. She looked back at Fin. “Where is your horse?”

“Epona? I left her with my friends,” he said.

“Another town?” said Eleni. “Where?”

“Not a town,” he said. “More of a camp. Would you like to sit down somewhere? So we can talk?”

“We are talking now,” she said.

“You don't make things easy, do you? Are you going to tell me your name at least?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Eleni,” she said quietly. “Who are you?”

Fin smiled again. It was a kind smile. “Someone that might understand who you are. Someone that's just like you.” He turned and started to walk into the wood. Eleni watched him go. He looked back at her. “Are you coming?” he said. He disappeared in the trees.

Eleni looked around for the wolf. It had gone when she was busy talking to Fin. She shook her head at her own negligence. She needed to be more alert. She was growing lax. Slowly she put one foot in front of the other, almost surprised to find that she was following the way Fin had gone. As if her body had made a decision before she could do anything about it.

Fin was sitting on a rock smoothing his beard. He had his legs stretched out in front of him and held something that looked like a boar tusk in one hand. He saw her and gestured to a similar rock next to him. Eleni froze, looking around. The white raven let out a scream in her ear as it flew past her head and alighted on Fin's shoulder.

“I saw that raven yesterday,” she said.

“It belongs to a friend of mine,” said Fin. “Please. Sit.” Eleni felt nervous and twitchy. She couldn't remember the last time she had been invited to sit with another person. Not since she'd been separated from her mother. Fin watched her with patient eyes. He lifted the tusk and Eleni heard the sound of a cork being pulled. Fin lifted it to his lips and drank, making a face as he re-corked the container.

“You drink from the tusk of a pig?” she said, suddenly curious again. She took a step toward him, but stopped again. She was afraid to be close to him, but at the same time she did not want to leave him. She looked behind her, into the thick of the woods. Two golden eyes grew larger as the wolf emerged from the brush. She looked at Eleni almost chidingly, then walked over and lay down next to the large stone Fin had invited her to sit on. Haltingly, Eleni followed, stopping every few steps and looking around, as if she would find a reason not to stay. The man, the raven and the wolf all watched her progress in silence. All three seemed to know the difficulty of what Fin had asked her to do.

Fin looked down as she sat. He lifted up the object he had raised to drink. “This is a horn, not a tusk,” he said without looking at her. His voice was friendly, without a trace of the contempt she felt from most of the villagers. All but Alin. Though she had felt fear from the old man quite often. Fin did not seem to fear her. He did not seem to loathe her either. Eleni did not know what to think about him. She felt a great curiosity towards him, but she was afraid he, too, would leave when he grew tired of her. Either that or he would come to loathe her.

“A horn,” Eleni repeated. Fin handed her the object. It was nearly as long as her forearm and heavier than it looked. It had a strap on it so it could be worn.

“From the head of a steer,” he said. “Great wooly beasts. As tall as you and ten times as heavy. At least.”

Eleni stared at him, transfixed at the way he spoke, the languorous way he leaned back watching her. She could listen to him all day. She looked down at the horn in her hands. It was polished to a sheen, and was cool and smooth in her hands.

“You don't see many these days, of course. But every once in a while I come across one.”

“Where?” she said suddenly, surprising even herself.

Fin smiled. “I come from the West,” he said. “From the Islands.”

Eleni's eyes widened and her heart beat in her throat. “The West,” she repeated.

“Have you never been away from here?” he asked.

Eleni averted her eyes. It made her nervous to meet his eyes. “I was born after the fire,” she said. She was quiet for a long time, staring at the horn, turning it this way and that to make the ivory catch the light of the moon. “They tell us that nothing survived,” she said. “Only our village and the monsters and the Reivers.”

“Who tells you that?” he said.

She didn't meet his eyes and spoke as if he hadn't. As if she had to continue or she wouldn't be able to say it. “They tell us that all this is because of me. I am a bad omen. We are being punished. We survived the fire so we could see what happens. So we could see what has come because they were kind to take me in.” She fiddled with the cork in the horn. Fin was silent. “They tell us nothing survived,” she said again. “But you are here. So either they are wrong, or you are not real.”

“I'm real,” Fin said softly.

“I could not find your horse's tracks,” she said, glancing up at him. “I looked for them last night. You left no trace.”

Fin looked up at the sky. The moon was rising and was almost directly overhead. It was almost full. “You and me,” he said softly, “we're not the same as the rest of them. There's some that will fear us. There's some, nothing can stop them from hating us.” He looked at Eleni, his face finally serious, unsmiling. “There's some that would do anything to worship us.”

Eleni didn't breathe for a moment. She forgot to look away from Fin. He stared right into her. “That cannot be,” said Eleni, her voice a whisper. “What you are saying, I don't understand...”

Fin smiled with his eyes. “Let me show you something,” he said. He leaned forward. “Put your hand here, on this patch of grass.”

“What?”

“Please,” he said. “I want to show you.” Eleni did as he asked, crouching down and placing her hand on the ground. The wolf raised his head from his paws, watching them. “Now burn it,” he said.

“Burn it?” she said, not comprehending. “What is the use of that?”

“Just burn it,” he said.

The raven hopped down to Fin's knee and then down to the ground, seeming to be taking in Eleni's every movement.

Eleni let the fire flow gently through the palm of her hand. Smoke rose from between her fingers, lingering in her nostrils. She removed her hand to show him the hand-shaped burn in the earth. He nodded and Eleni sat back down on her stone, watching Fin. He smiled at her confused expression. He knelt next to the scorch mark and placed a large, scarred hand over the smaller, blackened hand-mark. He exhaled oddly and Eleni saw something in his eyes. A flash, like the lightning in the mountains, only bright green. It was gone in an instant. Eleni sensed something happening in the ground under Fin's hand. Like a cool sort of heat. She felt a gentle rumble in the ground, like thunder with no sound.

There was a pressure in the air, and then a movement under Fin's fingers. Eleni leaned forward. Something was coming out of the earth under the man's hand. At first Eleni thought it was a living creature, then she realized they were plants. Green grass and vines snaked out of the ground, wrapping around Fin's arm as the vines sprouted leaves and the buds that came before the blossom. Fin took his hand away, untangling himself from the vines and laughing at the look on Eleni's face. The scorch mark was gone. The damage her hand had made had disappeared and been replaced by new growth. Eleni shook her head, frowning. She knelt down by Fin and examined the ground. The plants had roots when she tugged at them. It was real, not a trick. She looked up at him.

“You're not the only one,” said Fin.

“The only what?” said Eleni. “What am I?”

He hesitated. “I know someone that can explain it better. Someone you would believe. Will you come with me?”

Eleni sat back on her heels. “Come with you?” she said. “Away from the village?”

“Yes,” said Fin. “There's a world out there. Much is still recovering, but there are sights that you wouldn't believe. The world is resilient. There are people that would treat you...well, they wouldn't lock you in a box, that much is certain.”

“I cannot leave,” said Eleni.

Fin stared at her. “Why not?” he said after a moment.

“Cosmin,” Eleni said. “He keeps my mother in the village. He says if I leave he will kill her.”

“Your mother?” said Fin, sounding even more confused.

“Yes,” said Eleni. “I will take her, of course. But I do not know if she could survive the winter in the open.”

“Have you seen her?” said Fin. “Your...mother?”

Eleni frowned at him. He was acting strangely. “Not of late,” she said.

“How long?” he said.

“Five winters ago,” said Eleni.

Fin looked down at the raven. Eleni could swear they were sharing a look. Fin shook his head at the creature, then looked back at Eleni. “How do you know she's still in the village?”

“She would not leave me, even if Cosmin let her,” said Eleni. She sat back on the rock. “I suppose she could have died, but I do not think so.”

“She's not dead,” said Fin. “I promise you that.”

“How do you know?” said Eleni, her voice suddenly cold.

“I know,” he said. “So you will not go?”

“I will not go,” said Eleni. “Not yet.”

“I can go with you,” he said. “We can take her before they even know we're there. It's your choice what happens to this Cosmin. I will not interfere.”

“She cannot survive the winter, I told you.”

“Eleni,” said Fin, “this person you call your mother, she can survive anything.” He rose and sat down on his stone again. “But if you are worried, we can take her to our camp. She will be protected there.”

“I do not even know you,” said Eleni. She appraised him for a moment. “No, I must wait. You could be tricking me. Maybe you are a Reiver, a clever one. You are trying to get me to lead you into the village. I will not do it. Not while my mother is inside.”

Fin sighed, exasperated. But a moment later he smiled at her. “I'm not leaving, Eleni. I'll stay here until I change your mind. I won't go anywhere until you come with me. That is a promise.”

“Why?” said Eleni.

“Why will I wait for you?” said Fin. Eleni nodded. “Because you're important. And I think you could be in danger.”

Eleni snorted. “Cosmin cannot hurt me.”

“Not from them,” said Fin. “From other things. The people from your village are gnats. You do not have to live this way. You should be worshiped.”

Eleni stood and handed the horn back. The wolf stood with her. “Keep it,” said Fin. “A gift.”

“I do not want your gifts,” said Eleni. “They seem to have a price.”

“No price,” said Fin mildly. “Only the truth.”

Eleni narrowed her eyes at him, but held the horn pressed against her anyway. She walked backward, away from the stranger.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he called to her, waving jovially. “Happy hunting.”

Eleni turned and ran, almost surprised to feel the earth beneath her feet. She felt lightheaded, though not dizzy. As if the ideas of the traveler made her lighter, as if she were made of sky instead of woman. She ran until the feeling dissipated, until the wolf frothed and panted beside her, until she reached the snow. She pulled up her skirt and let her feet sink into a mound of snow, the crust crunching under her, steam rising from beneath her. She saw something move out of the corner of her eye and her hand shot out, the fire leaving her before she even realized what she was doing. A rabbit, its fur once as white as the snow, lay blackened and dead in a puddle of melted snow.

Eleni didn't understand why Fin had upset her so much. All he had done was ask her to come with him. But it was his proclamation that he would wait for her that had really upset her. She couldn't explain that, even to herself. Perhaps after so long being alone, Eleni didn't want someone waiting for her, someone to feel responsible for. Her mother was no doubt waiting for her to come, to rescue her. But the time just wasn't right. Eleni was positive about that. A regular person could not survive a winter traveling through the mountains. And with mountains on all sides, surrounding the forest and the village, they would have to take the mountains to get anywhere.

The wolf growled at her and Eleni sighed. She jumped when a great flash of lightning lit up the sky above her. She'd never seen it so close. It was usually in the distance. It startled her out of her thoughts. She stood and walked to the burned rabbit. She stripped the crackling skin off and ate the cooked meat inside. She was surprised at how hungry she was. When she finished, she was calmer. She looked at the horn slung over her shoulder. She wiggled the cork until it popped out and sniffed the contents.

“Gah!” Eleni exclaimed, turning her head away. The smell burned her nostrils. She looked at the horn for a moment before, very slowly, putting her lips to the opening and tipping the horn up ever so slightly. The liquid rolled across her tongue and down her throat, the taste on her tongue bitter and pungent. Eleni made a face, wrinkling her nose. She replaced the cork.

The wolf was staring at her reproachfully from a tree stump away from the snow. Eleni kicked snow on the rabbit bones and organs. She stepped out of the snow. The wolf still stared at her, its golden eyes the only thing that would be visible from a distance. Her black fur blended into the shadows of the night perfectly.

“I want to go,” said Eleni, “but I have to stay.”

The wolf turned away from her and stepped off the stump and into the darkness of the forest. Eleni sighed. She wouldn't see the animal again tonight. She knew by the look it had given her. She looked up at the moon. It was time to hunt.

Chapter Four

Magda blinked and shook her head. These days seeing through the raven's eyes made her dizzy and made her seeing eye throb. She took in her surroundings. She was in her tent, the thick leather painted red for respect, flapping in the frigid breeze. Someone had come in while she was unaware and placed a quilt over her shoulders. Probably Iren. The girl fussed over Magda so. She rose, nearly falling back again as the feeling returned to her legs. She'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor for quite a while, judging from the pitch darkness. Her bones ached and her muscles were stiff. Magda frowned as she shuffled outside, clutching the blanket around her. She had always been old, since the beginning of time. But until recently she had never felt old.

She sat on a log by the fire. It was a puny, small flame that gave off little heat. They had to keep the fires small to avoid detection. Magda held her hands close to the tiny flame trying to warm herself. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around what she had just seen and heard. Through Mati, the raven, she had seen the girl. It was hard to believe that such a small, pretty thing held such power. But that wasn't what confused Magda. The girl, Eleni, said that her mother was in the village. She must be speaking of Anja. No other would have been strong enough to carry such a dangerous burden, to give birth to Eleni. No regular woman would have survived. And just before she had disappeared, Anja had alluded to being a vessel. But Magda hadn't listened. Anja had tried to tell her everything, and she hadn't listened. What was happening was Magda's fault just as much as Anja's. Perhaps more.

Magda couldn't believe Anja was so close. She wouldn't. Not until she had seen it with her own eyes. Mati had flown over the village in the daylight, but Magda had not seen her sister. Only miserable men and women. Men and women that would keep a child in a metal box. It made Magda's stomach churn to think of it. If they only knew who Eleni was, they would never dare. And the poor thing had been on her own for so long that it had turned her wild, almost feral. But she had seen a deep intelligence blazing behind the girl's eyes, even through the distorted eyes of a bird. She would be a crafty one. Magda wanted to pray that Eleni was on her side, but she didn't know who to pray to any more. A shiver went up her spine. What if Anja was close, and Magda could no longer feel her? What if their power was gone for good, turned to dust by long winters and unhappiness?

A warm hand touched Magda's arm. Katalin, Elek's wife, smiled at Magda. “You are chilled, Grandmother,” she said. “I will bring you a drink.”

“Why don't you sit with me instead?” said Magda. The woman sat down, looking almost as stiff as Magda felt. “Have you eaten today, Katalin?” said Magda.

“Of course,” said Katalin, avoiding Magda's eyes. She looked away, into the fire.

“Elek should take better care of his family,” said Magda. “When Alaunus returns he can teach you to hunt, to find food in the forest. You do not have to depend on men for your food.”

Katalin smiled weakly. “It is not our way, Grandmother. I have faith in my husband. He will provide for us when he can.”

“As you say,” said Magda.

“I must check on the children,” said Katalin. “Are you sure you do not want a drink? It will warm you.”

“I believe,” said Magda, “that I need to speak with your husband.”

“No, Grandmother,” said Katalin.

“Don't worry yourself, it isn't about you. Any of you. I have somewhere I need him to go. He and all the others. It's a full moon.” Magda knew she didn't have to tell this poor woman what phase the moon was in. She knew all too well. She seemed to relax. Whether because Magda wouldn't tell Elek that his wife was starving, or because Magda would be sending Elek away when he was his most violent, Magda didn't know.

“I will fetch him now,” said Katalin. She hurried off towards the direction of her tent. After a few moments of muted voices, one a growl and one higher-pitched, Elek came out and shambled toward her. Magda knew that it pained him to stay human, especially during the full moon. As much as she hated the way his people treated women and children, she admired his ability to withstand the agony.

“Grandmother,” he growled. He made an attempt to bow and flinched. Magda held up her hand and motioned for him to sit next to her. “Do you have a task?” he said. Magda could see the yellow flashing in his dark eyes. He was barely containing it.

“There is a village on the other side of the wood. Do you know it?” said Magda.

“Yes,” said Elek. Magda thought that ordinarily he may have lied to her, but he hadn't the energy. “We took some sheep on the last moon.”

“Why only the sheep?” said Magda. “That is not your way.”

“There was a girl,” he said. “We saw her kill a dark beast with fire from her hand.”

Magda sighed. Under her nose the whole time. And the idiot didn't have the sense to tell her. No matter. Nothing to be done about it now. “I want you to go to that village again,” said Magda. “The girl sleeps in an iron box set into the wall. Do you remember the wall?”

Elek nodded. “Yes.”

“If you secure her in the box, she cannot hurt you. I am sorry to have you do this, but it will free her in the long run.”

“What do you want from the village?” said Elek.

“My sister,” said Magda. “Find her if she is there, and bring her back.

“And the rest of the village?” said Elek, his eyes wide, his pain forgotten, replaced by a hungry look.

Magda pulled the quilt tighter around herself. She looked into the fire. “Do as you will,” she said. Elek rose and looked like he was restraining himself from running to tell the men.

“Wait,” said Magda. Elek turned, trepidation on his face. He thought she would take it back. Magda knew how long the men had waited, repressing their natural function. “Don't look so worried,” said Magda. “There is one man. An old man. The girl is fond of him, I think. Spare him. And get out as soon as you can. If the girl gets out of her box before you are gone, she will be the end of you all.”

Elek nodded eagerly. “Yes, Grandmother.”

Magda sighed when he had gone. She wanted to have hope that Anja had been taken prisoner, but someone like Anja didn't get into such situations. Not at the hands of a tiny village of humans, at any rate. But she had to know. And Eleni. If the girl knew who she was, not one of those humans would be alive. No one imprisoned a goddess without incurring her wrath.

Chapter Five

“What has happened to the monsters?” Eleni said the next evening. “I have not seen a dark creature since you came.” It was the next evening and Eleni had been up before the sun had even gone down. The wolf had not yet joined her. But she couldn't stay away from Fin. Just the knowledge that there was another person in the wild, and one that would talk to her no less, she found irresistible.

“I'm afraid they don't much like having me around,” said Fin. “They've most likely just migrated higher into the mountains.”

“That creature you were chasing. Was that a dark creature?” said Eleni. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“Strago,” said Fin. “I'm afraid that was from the West. Not a dark creature, but a dangerous one all the same. I used to come across them occasionally back home, but I haven't seen one since the fire. I think they were all hiding underground. The one that attacked you tried to get me first, just over that ridge. It found me...distasteful, I suppose. I chased it here. I don't know what I would have done if I caught up to it, but I was sure I'd think of something.” He smiled, his features softening. Eleni liked to look at him. She was fascinated by the way he spoke to her without cringing. She could never tire of anyone smiling at her. She found herself smiling back, though the expression felt strange.

“Your name,” said Fin, looking at her. “It's not Daci, you know.”

Eleni nodded. “My mother told me. It is from the South. From her homeland. She struggled with the women of the village when I was born. They wanted me to have a Daci name. My mother refused, she said they treated us like outsiders, so she would name me anything she pleased.” Eleni frowned, her eyes losing focus.

“You miss her,” said Fin.

“Yes,” said Eleni. “She was very kind. She used to come to see me after they forced me out of the village. She would comb my hair every day and tell me I was...” Eleni looked away, her voice trailing.

“Tell you that you were what?” said Fin. “Special? Amazing? Beautiful?”

Eleni smiled. “Capable of great things,” she said.

“How do you know she's still in there?” said Fin, pointing to the village with a piece of grass he'd been nibbling.

“Are you cold?” said Eleni. “I could start a fire.”

“Don't change the subject.”

Eleni looked at him. The raven had gotten bored and flown nearby and was digging at something in the ground with its beak. “I do not know,” said Eleni. “I only hope.”

“Good answer,” said Fin. “Hope is a powerful thing. I don't envy your predicament.” He looked down at his boots and furrowed his brow. “What if someone could get her out, to bring her to safety? What if she's not who you think she is, and she could survive the winter? Survive anything, really.”

“I do not want to speak of this any more,” said Eleni. “She is a woman, and she will not survive. You would say anything to get me to go with you.”

“That's not true,” he said quietly. “I wouldn't lie to you.”

“My mother used to tell me to never trust the words of a man who wants something. That advice has always served me well with the Daci men, and it will serve me well with you.”

“You can't live like this, Eleni,” Fin said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “No one should live like this, let alone you. You're better than this. You deserve to be worshiped.”

Eleni stood up. “I do not wish to be worshiped,” she said coolly. “I wish to be treated like a normal woman.”

“Eleni,” said Fin. “You will never be normal. You were born to be extraordinary.”

“You know nothing about me,” she said. “I must hunt now.”

“It's only just sunset,” said Fin. “Stay a little longer. I'm sorry.”

Eleni turned away. “I have to go.”

“Eleni,” Fin was up and touching her shoulder. She looked at him. Most were afraid to touch her. Like they would catch whatever made her unique. “Sometimes...” said Fin, seeming to be having a hard time finding the words. “Sometimes we can't control the way things happen.”

“What are you trying to say?” she said angrily. “Are you going to try to force me to go?”

Fin smiled. “As if I could.”

“It would be very difficult,” she agreed.

“I hope you will come with me willingly. That you'll change your mind.”

“How long will you wait?” said Eleni. “A night? A fortnight?”

“Yes,” said Fin.

“A winter?” said Eleni. She nodded at the look on his face. “You see? You just want what you want.”

“I just don't think your mother is in that village,” said Fin. He glanced back at the raven, which was now watching them with a keen interest. “I think it's wonderful that you have such hope, but I wouldn't want to be around if you found out otherwise. I have a friend that wants to meet you. Someone that knew your mother.”

“Who?” said Eleni, studying him. He pursed his lips.

“You won't believe me,” he said finally.

“I may.”

“She is something of a relation to you. Some call her the Crone.”

Eleni narrowed her eyes. “Why has my mother never spoken of this crone?”

Fin breathed out heavily through his nose. “She asked me not to say. You won't believe it anyway. You think your mother is a mortal.”

“The crone asked you not to say,” said Eleni. “The old woman that is a secret relation to me. Immortals who cannot die. Do you think me stupid?”

“She is...ow!” Fin exclaimed as the white raven alighted and nipped at his ear before flying back to the ground again and surveying them. Fin touched his hand to his ear and looked at the drops of blood on his fingers. He scowled at the bird who squawked at him loudly.

Eleni stared at him. He shrugged, as if he didn't know what else to say. Eleni snorted. “My mother was right. Men will say anything.”

She had hunted all she could carry by the time the moon was directly above her. It was full and hung round and heavy in the sky. She thought about going back and trying to talk to Fin again, but she was still angry. She didn't really understand the argument that they had had, but she knew that he had tried to tell her absurd things. He thought her a fool. Perhaps he was a Reiver after all. Luring her away so his friends could attack the village. As she walked across the field toward the village, the wolf growled at her.

She turned back to look at her friend. “I am sorry,” she said. “I am very tired.” When she got to the gate she threw the large bundle of polecats and ermines on the ground.

“Is that all?” said a high male voice from above. She looked up to see Rastin.

“Make sure my mother gets as much as she can eat,” said Eleni. She walked to her box and, surprising even to her, she pulled the door closed. She just wanted sleep. The door still hung open a finger's width across. It would only lock from the outside, so she couldn't lock herself in, but she wanted to. She didn't understand it, but she wanted seclusion tonight, even from the wolf.

Eleni was startled from sleep by a sound grating on her ears. Metal against metal. She blinked, sitting up. It was midmorning, she could tell by the feel of the air around her. But something was wrong. She rubbed her eyes, trying to make out what it was. She was groggy from sleep and her head ached. She hadn't eaten the night before and she was lightheaded.

The birds weren't singing.

Eleni's eyes opened wide as the thought burst forward in her mind. The birds were always singing. Something was always making a racket in the forest. She listened for a long moment. Nothing. No sound at all. But then she did hear something. The crunch of a footstep. A muted growl. And then she smelled it. The scent of almost-wolf, almost-man. A mixture of wildness and the stink of sweat and the smell of meat. Reivers. The same scent she had smelled last full moon when she had come back late from a hunt. They had taken the sheep and Cosmin had blamed her.

She sprang out of bed and pushed at the door. It wouldn't move. The sound that had woken her must have been someone pulling the iron bar against the hatch.

“No!” Eleni cried, pushing harder on the door.

She heard the first scream, then the soft thunking of arrows being unleashed. A second scream. The smell of blood.

Eleni clenched her fists, feeling the power build inside of her arms. She placed her palms on the metal and let the fire go. The metal grew hot, smoking as it turned red. Another scream, then the shriek of a child followed more alarmingly by a silence. Then chaos. Women were screaming, men were shouting threats, men were screaming. Children were crying. It sounded as though they were being chased. The smell of blood was so strong that Eleni was sure she would choke on it.

Her hands started to melt into the metal. She tried to fuel more fire into the metal, but she couldn't make it go any faster. Her hands were halfway through the thick iron now.

The screams echoed in the box, filling up Eleni's head. There was a sickening wet thud above her. The shrieks were growing fewer at an alarming rate. Eleni's head was swimming, her stomach roiling. She had to get out, had to stop them. Her mother was in that village.

Then with a final surge, her hands burst forward to the other side. She felt cool air and pulled her arms in, looking out through the holes she had made. The white raven sat just outside, nibbling on something. With a wave of nausea, Eleni realized it was a finger. The raven watched her without a sound, its eyes unmoving. The smell of Reivers and blood was thicker outside. She put her arm in the hole and tried to reach the iron bar, to pull it up so the door could open. She touched the metal with her fingertips, but could not grasp it. The hole was too small to let her shoulder through and the bar seemed wedged somehow.

Using everything she had, she pushed on the edges of the holes she'd made, using her fire and what little strength she had left to melt and push and melt and push. The screams slowly abated. Eleni felt cool tears running down her face. She had to get out, had to help, had to save her. She put her arm in the hole again and pulled up on the bar. It wouldn't move. Peeking out, she looked down to see that the metal had been bent around the latch. Eleni pulled her head back in and worked feverishly on the edges again. She would have to make the hole big enough for her whole body. Finally, with one last shove, it was finished. She pulled herself through the hole and fell heavily onto the ground outside. On the ground next to her was the sound she had heard on the top of the box. It was a head that had been ripped from its shoulders. Cosmin.

The raven was gone, along with the finger. It was quiet, so painfully quiet that it hurt. Eleni walked toward the gate. The smell of Reivers was fainter now than it had been, but the smell of blood was far stronger. She knew the Reivers were gone. They had worked fast.

The gate was bent open, as if someone – or something – very strong had just forced it open. The edges of the metal were bent outwards, leaving a gap big enough for a large man to pass through. Eleni could hear her blood pumping in her ears and smell her own bitter sweat. She slipped through the gap in the gate.

The dead lined the path through the village. Eleni stepped over a woman she recognized as Agata, a girl she had known as a child. She used to throw rocks when Eleni tried to play with her. Eleni stepped over her unseeing corpse. She saw women, men, children, all dead, their throats ripped or bitten out, limbs lying nearby, guts sliced open. The Reivers had been brutal. A small high voice whispered when she got to the center of town.

“Please,” it moaned. There was a desperate whine to the voice. Eleni looked around and finally saw where it came from. At the side of a house, in the shadows, someone was sitting propped against a wall. Eleni stepped over a small boy she had never seen before, his head caved in.

“Rastin,” she said as she looked down on the man. So large before, and so small now. He shivered under her gaze. There was a wound on his neck that he grasped at with one hand, trying to stop the blood that flowed between his fingers.

“Why did they not kill you?” said Eleni.

“I...” Rastin stopped, swallowed, caught his breath. “I hid,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“While your people were being slaughtered?” said Eleni. “You are no man.”

“Please, help me,” he said. “I apologize. I know I have made things hard for you.”

“You tried to have me killed,” said Eleni. “I was only a child.”

“I...sorry...” Rastin's eyes were growing glassy. “Please...cauterize it. I beg you.”

Eleni looked down on him, cowering under her, begging her. There were tears in his eyes and he was covered in dirt and blood. He was a coward. He had let children die, women die, to save himself.

“No,” Eleni said.

“What?” said Rastin, his expression uncomprehending. “Help me,” he said, his voice weak but demanding. “Cauterize my wound or I will die.”

“Yes, you will,” said Eleni. “I will let the gods judge you.” She took a step back.

“No!” said Rastin, wincing at the pain it caused him. He swallowed again. “Come back and help me.” Eleni took another step back. His face changed to an expression of loathing. “You whore! You bitch! I should have killed you when I had the chance!”

Eleni snorted. “You could not have killed me, small man. Die in your own filth.”

“You are the reason your mother left, you whore,” he snarled. “She left because of you.”

Eleni stopped. “You lie. She is here.”

Rastin coughed, his eyes rolling up for a moment. He focused back on her. There was blood spurting through his hand to the rhythm of his heart. “She is not here,” he said. He spat the words. Then he closed his eyes and went limp. His hand fell away, the blood no more than a trickle now. Eleni stood staring at him, at his corpse, for what seemed a very long time. Then she felt herself take a step back, then another. Before she knew what she was doing, she was running. And then she was standing in front of the house that she and her mother had shared.

The door was caved in, splinters of wood littering the mud outside. And in the mud, just outside of the door, her mother's door, was a footprint. A giant clawed thing, neither man nor beast. Eleni forgot to breathe. She almost hoped that her mother had run away as Rastin said. Fin had said it too, though in a much gentler way. Her mother was not here. But she didn't believe it. She had to see it with her own eyes. If she were still here, and she wasn't an immortal as Fin had said, then she was surely dead. Eleni stepped through the door.

A woman lay sprawled face-down on the floor just inside. She had long hair, as Eleni's mother did, though she couldn't tell the color. It was matted with something wet that was probably blood. It could have been red or yellow. Darkness soaked into the dirt floor around her. Claw marks sliced across her back, three curved lines that had gone through her dress, skin, and most of her muscle. Eleni crouched down next to her. She grasped her shoulder and flipped her over.

A slurping sound, wet and thick, pierced the air, until now completely silent. Eleni gagged on the smell. The woman's stomach had been sliced open and her organs spilled out onto the floor. Eleni looked at the dead woman's face.

It wasn't her.

Eleni stood and backed away, the woman's dead eyes seeming to follow her. She stumbled and almost fell on something soft. She looked around to see it was the body of a boy-child, his neck broken and twisted. And by the fire pit in the center of the room, a man, separated from his head, just as Cosmin had been.

Eleni straightened. Her mother was not here. She should rejoice in that fact. But instead she felt empty. She had been fooled all these years. She had stayed for her mother. She had been a prisoner, a slave. And the entire time it had been for nothing. Her mother must have left long ago. Left her here to rot. Eleni looked at the bodies again. Then she raised both her fists in front of her. She released the fire in a great cloud of flame, her power increasing with her anger, her frustration, and her grief.

She stood and watched the flames engulf the old wood of the walls, in the place she had felt most loved. It traveled quickly around the circular hut, crawling over sleeping mats and shelves containing tins and bags of grains and spices. When it reached the woman, Eleni could feel it lapping warmly around her feet and legs. When she smelled hair burning she turned and walked out the door. Her dress had burned mostly off and Fin's coat was in tatters, but she barely noticed.

She walked through the village, raising her arms at every home and freeing the fire to gorge greedily at the shoddy houses. She let her rage wash over her like an intoxicating poison. She let it fuel the fire, making the village into a raging funeral pyre that would destroy every trace of this place that had made her life unbearable. She had told Alin she would burn the village to the ground, and now it was happening.

Eleni stopped. Thinking of Alin gave her pause. He had been kind to her. Even if he had participated in the facade, he had at least showed kindness to her, and shame about his role. She turned, looking toward the corner of the village where he lived. She hadn't burned it yet.

The smoke billowed around her and formed a column in the sky. She burned as she went, but stopped at Alin's hut. The door had been torn off. Eleni entered. Alin was lying on his cot, where it looked like he had dragged himself, a smear of blood left on the floor. He looked just as dead as the rest of them. Eleni looked him over. His arm had been ripped off at the elbow, but Alin had had enough sense to tie a cloth around his bicep. One of his legs was broken, too.

Suddenly, Alin coughed, a wet spluttering thing. Eleni recognized the cough, and knew somehow that he was bleeding inside. He had been struck, probably.

“You are dying,” she said.

Alin turned his head toward her very slowly. He nodded. “Yes,” he said. His eyes were pained, but there was something behind the pain. Something that reminded Eleni of her mother for some reason. “I am happy you are safe,” he said. “You do not look injured.”

“I was locked in my box,” Eleni said coolly. “It took me time to get out.”

Alin laughed, but it turned into the wet, sickly cough. “To think,” he said. “Cosmin put you in that damned box to keep the village safe from you. It turns out, when danger came calling, you were the safest of us all.” Alin closed his eyes, exhausted. He opened them again slowly. “I suppose you know,” he said. “Judging by the smoke. I assume the Reivers didn't do that.”

“I did it,” said Eleni. “You lied to me.”

Alin sucked in a rattling breath. Despite the tourniquet, he was bleeding quite heavily from his arm. It wasn't spurting, but it flowed in a thin rivulet from the shredded meat and white bone that Eleni could see sticking out through the blood. The rough weave of the mat beneath him was dark with blood. Eleni reached out to touch the wound, to burn it into stopping, but Alin held up a hand, stopping her. She took her hand back.

“I lied,” Alin said. “It pains me. It has always pained me. I love you like family.”

“That is not how families should be,” said Eleni, her teeth clenched.

“But that is how they are,” said Alin weakly. “We lie to each other because of the love we feel.”

“That makes no sense,” said Eleni. She was angry and confused now. “How could lying be for love?”

“You have so much to learn, child,” said Alin. He blinked slowly at her, almost drowsily. “It is my fault. I should have taught you more. I thought I had more time.” He coughed again and blood flecked his lower lip and chin. He closed his eyes and for a moment Eleni thought he was gone. But after a few heartbeats he opened his eyes again, heavily, as if the lifting were a labor. “I made a promise,” he said, his voice weak. He was so pale he was almost blue. “To your mother.”

“My mother?” said Eleni.

“I failed,” he said. “I was supposed to keep something for you. A bauble on a chain. Most outstanding. But a Reiver took it. He ripped off my arm when I wouldn't give it to him. Then he threw me across the room.”

“What kind of bauble?” said Eleni.

“I do not know what it was,” said Alin, closing his eyes. He opened them wide again, as if starting awake. “Full of lightning, it was. Extraordinary.”

“Your promise,” said Eleni, “was to save a piece of jewelry for me?”

Alin swallowed with effort, his throat muscles working. “My promise was to keep you here as long as I could.” His chest heaved. His eyes rolled up, then back down. He looked as if he was trying hard to focus on her. “Safe...in the village. Something...get you.”

“Why did she leave?” said Eleni. “Why did she leave me here?”

“She left...to save...you,” said Alin. “Something...get you. Far worse...than living...iron box.” Alin closed his eyes then and exhaled noisily. And then he was gone.

Eleni knelt down and touched his face. She closed her eyes and listened to her own breath for a moment. When she opened them again she looked at Alin one last time. Then she set the cot on fire. “May your journey to the Underworld be a pleasant one,” she said under her breath. She walked out of the house and looked around.

The buildings she had set alight were burning to ashes. She suddenly had no wish to continue wasting her energy on this place. Except one more. She walked to the blacksmith's workshop. Metal sheets were propped up against the meager shack. Tools lay strewn about, probably by the Reivers. Eleni looked at it for a long time. It hadn't been the blacksmith's fault. He was only following Cosmin's orders. She remembered being led away as a child, out of the gates that had been so recently finished. She remembered how they shone so brightly in the sun it had hurt her eyes. The wall was brown with rust now. She had looked back over her shoulder to see her mother crying, being held back by several women. They were cooing comforting things to her. No one had cooed to Eleni. They had yanked her this way and that when she locked her legs into the earth. The two men had hauled her through the gates and moments later she had her first glimpse of the box that would be her home and her prison for many, many winters. They had pushed her in. She wanted to burn them, to make them stop, but her mother had always told her that was so terribly wrong. When the door latched for the first time, she had cried until she fell asleep on the mat they had given her.

Eleni wiped her face angrily with the heel of her hand. She looked at the blacksmith's hut, her eyes clouding with anger and sadness and loss. As she turned her back on it, she sent out a burst of fire from her hand, still dripping with her own tears. She walked away without looking back as it erupted into flame.

As she walked out of the gate, she saw a figure standing in the field. The sun was bright all around him, but he seemed to be somehow in shadow. She knew him then, not as Fin. She remembered another name.

“Alaunus,” she said to him when she had walked to him. “Do they call you that? Alaunus?” She didn't realize how weak she was until she spoke to him. Her voice was raspy from the smoke and she felt as though she might fall over.

“Yes,” he said, looking at her, his face serious.

“How did I know that?” said Eleni. “How do I know so many things when I have not yet lived a true life?”

“Because you are extraordinary,” said Fin. “Are you all right?”

“The Reivers...” Eleni looked down so Fin would not see the emotion on her face. Her dress was blackened and burned up to her knees and elbows. And smeared with blood and dirt. She looked back up at Fin almost defiantly. “You were right. She was not there. She has not been there for a very long time. She left. Alin said it was to save me. I...” She trailed off and looked away from him. He just watched her, his eyes studying her.

“Eleni, I'm sorry,” he said finally. He reached out a hand to touch her, but she shrank from him, stumbling to the side.

“Tell me a truth,” she said. “What could there be that was so bad that a mother had to abandon her child? What could there be that was so dangerous that being locked in a metal box was better than leaving?”

“There are a great many things you do not yet know, Eleni,” said Fin.

“But you will not tell me,” she said. “Just as Alin would not tell me my mother was gone. So many lies and half-truths. You tell me one reason that I should go with you. One right reason and I will go.”

“You have no village,” said Fin.

“I have had no village for a great long while,” said Eleni. “It was I supplying the village, not the other way round. I can survive without them. They could not survive without me.”

“Aye,” said Fin. “True enough.” He sighed. “I was told not to tell you this. That you would not be ready to hear this yet.”

“But you are going to tell me anyway,” said Eleni. She was so tired that it felt as though she had to push the words out to talk.

“I suppose I am,” said Fin. He smiled with his eyes. Eleni liked seeing him do that. “The friend I'm taking you to see, her name is Magda. She can help you find your mother.”

Eleni narrowed her eyes at him. “Another lie?” she said. “To get you what you want?”

“No,” said Fin, offended. “The truth.”

“Why would she do this for me?” said Eleni.

“Not for you,” he said. “For her, too. She's been looking for your mother for a very long time.”

Eleni shook her head, confused again. “Why is she looking for my mother?”

“Because Magda is her sister.”

Chapter Six

Fin took Eleni to the spot where he'd made camp. To an outsider it would look just like any other part of the forest. There was no indentation in the patch of grass where he slept because everything he touched grew back as it had been. He drank from the stream and he made no fire. He ate from his traveling pouch and any food he noticed in the woods along the way. He could be as invisible as he needed to in the forest. It wasn't his natural home, but he felt comfortable enough there.

Eleni had stumbled a few times, but ignored his offers of help. She lay down in the grass where the sun met the shade. Exactly where he had been lying only hours before. The sunlight shone on her face and she closed her eyes. For a moment, for the first time since Fin had met her, Eleni looked happy. She looked tired to the marrow, but happy. Then she started to snore.

Fin heard her rustle the grass when she woke. He felt it when she jerkily pulled at the tent of ivy he had grown around her. He knew when she lunged out of the shelter and into the brisk air.

He was sharpening a knife on a stone and didn't stop when he heard her. The wolf was resting by his side, watching the movement of the knife as he slid it across the stone. The animal's eyes shifted to Eleni, but Fin didn't turn. This was her chance to run if she wanted to. He wasn't going to force her to come with him. The wolf made no move to go to her. Fin sensed her looking towards the thick of trees at her back. If she ran she would never find out what had happened to her mother. He could almost feel her thought process. Weighing her options. He wondered if she had ever had options before.

Fin stopped sharpening his knife. Without turning around, he spoke to her in a low voice. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” said Eleni. “Much better.”

“I'm sorry if the plants scared you,” he said. “I was afraid you'd be scorched by the sun.”

“They didn't scare me,” said Eleni, her voice defensive. Fin smiled a small smile.

“Are you going to run?” said Fin. “Or are you going to come with me?” Eleni was silent. “I can't make you come, you know,” he said. “You are free to do as you please. But I think Magda can help you. And it might not hurt to meet some of your family. No one should be alone in this world.”

Eleni walked around him and crouched. She picked at the long grass. The moonlight fell on her pale skin and gave the impression that she was glowing from within. Perhaps she was. But when she looked at him, her eyes were disarmingly pale. Fin felt she was shooting ice into his chest when she looked at him with those eyes. They were such a pale blue they were almost white. “Are you alone?” she said.

“Aye,” he said. “I am. Now.”

“Have you lost someone?”

Fin didn't look at her. He looked away toward the direction of the moon, rising in the sky. He may have gotten angry at anyone else who asked such a blunt personal question. But Eleni didn't know anything of social niceties, though he was sure she could understand his pain. “My brother,” he said. “And two sisters.”

“So many,” said Eleni. “Can one have that much family?”

Fin snorted. “Apparently not.”

“How did they die?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he said, looking at her. She looked down into the grass.

“You leave me with a lot of questions,” she said.

He nodded, frowning. “I suppose I do. Must be hard, not knowing the world. We can remedy that. I can take you anywhere you like. If you want.”

“But I have to see this Magda first?” said Eleni. “I prefer to do what I like.”

“And what would you like to do?” said Fin, looking at her.

Eleni looked up at the sky. The moon was bright, hanging round and heavy in the sky. She pushed her matted hair from her face. Finally she looked back at Fin, who hadn't moved. “I would like to meet Magda,” she said. “If she was sister to my mother, she must know things about her. Things that you cannot tell me. Or things you don't know.”

Fin looked down at the blade of his knife, trying to hide his relief. “That's good,” he said, finally. He was genuinely surprised she had agreed so easily. He had braced himself for a long discussion. Maybe even days of following her. Possibly weeks.

“I make no promises,” said Eleni.

Fin shrugged. “Nor do I,” he said.

“We are agreed,” said Eleni. She stood up, stretching. “When do we leave?”

“Whenever you like,” he said. “It isn't far. A day's walk.”

“After we eat then,” said Eleni.

“I have my meal right here,” said Fin, holding up a pouch.

Eleni looked at the small bag, confused. “You have meat in there?”

Fin smiled. “No. I only eat meat on feast days.”

Eleni frowned. “Then what do you eat?”

“There is more food in the world than meat,” he said. “I eat roots, leaves, nuts, seeds, berries. This here is a horrible bread that Magda's people sent me off with. Filling, once you get past the taste. It's precious to them, though. They don't have much.”

“I am going to get some meat,” said Eleni, eying Fin. He laughed.

“Hope to see you again,” he said. “Wake me if you come back.” He tipped his head back against the rock, picking up his hat from the grass. He shook it out and placed it over his face. The wolf was at Eleni's side.

“I will come back,” she said. She stepped into the forest with the wolf at her heels.

Chapter Seven

Fin had found an old dress in one of the unburned huts. He had known that Eleni wouldn't go back. It would remind her of how trusting and naive she'd been, even when she knew they were lying to her. At any time, she could have searched for her mother, but she had not. She had allowed herself to stay imprisoned, allowed herself to be used. It would never happen again. She vowed to herself not to trust words. Words were unreliable. From this day on, she would need to see with her own eyes.

She did regret Alin's death. She could have saved him, but he stopped her. He had been her only friend, though he had lied to her, too. He said it was for her own good, her mother's good, but she had a hard time believing that. And more than anything, she couldn't think of Krasna without thinking of her mother. She really had left her. Eleni ground her teeth and felt like burning things when she remembered.

Except for Alin, she felt nothing when she thought about those who were killed. She was sorry that Alin had to die, but he had always told her it was important to welcome death when it came. And she was was almost grateful to the Reivers. She felt angry about her mother, about believing the lies, but also an unmistakable feeling of relief that she had been freed.

Eleni looked at Fin. He squinted in the darkness. The clouds had rolled in and covered up the moon. He wasn't used to seeing at night like she was. The wolf walked along beside her like a shadow. She had been half afraid the animal wouldn't follow her if she went with Fin. She was relieved that she was traveling along with them, her shining golden eyes a comfort to her.

They had been walking at a steady pace for hours now. Eleni could sense the distinct feeling of the Reivers as they went. At one point, she sensed where they had changed from wild monsters to men.

“You know, usually people that travel together talk to each other,” Fin said. “It is a pleasantry. Would you care to try?”

“Pleasantry?” said Eleni. She snorted. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You choose,” said Fin, smiling. “I like your questions. I'm sorry I was short with you earlier.”

“Very well,” said Eleni. “Where is the raven?”

“Oh,” said Fin. He shrugged. “I suppose it must have flown home to Magda,” he said.

“Along with the Reivers,” said Eleni. Her tone was cool.

Fin seemed to be lost for words. He stopped and stared at her. Eleni slowed and turned to look at him. “You did not think I would not know, surely,” said Eleni. “I have tracked boars that left less of a trail than they did. And we are following exactly in their wake. You think me stupid.”

“I don't,” said Fin, defensively.

“You must,” said Eleni. “It is of no consequence. Most make the same mistake.”

“Don't liken me to the animals in your village, Eleni,” said Fin.

“Why should I not?” she said. “You lie just as well as they did. I do enjoy your company a great deal more.”

“It wasn't me,” Fin said. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes kept shifting away as if it were hard for him to keep them looking into Eleni's eyes.

“What was not you?”

“I didn't send the Reivers. I didn't want them to come. I asked Magda not to send them. I told her I could convince you. The Reivers are low, as low as the humans get. Barely human, in fact. I don't care to have anything to do with them. But you cannot argue with Magda. It's useless. And she heard you say your mother was in there. I suppose she just had to be sure.”

Eleni frowned. “They came for my mother?” she said.

“You must understand, Eleni,” said Fin. “Magda has been looking for her sister for twenty-five winters. Twenty-five. She's desperate to find her.

Eleni was silent for a moment. “I can understand that,” she said. “I would have done the same, were I in her position. She did right.” Eleni narrowed her eyes as if concentrating on something. “How did she hear?” she said. “Was she with us?”

“No,” said Fin. “The raven. It's her eyes and ears.”

“Like the wolf,” said Eleni.

“I don't think so,” said Fin. “Not exactly. The raven is literally her eyes and ears. She sees and hears everything the raven does.”

Eleni nodded. She would see Magda soon enough. She would see for herself. “Why did you come?” she said. “You came before you knew about my mother. Why did you come back for me?”

“Because I couldn't leave you here,” he said. His voice was low. “You were locked in a metal box. You're too special for that.”

“No other reason?” said Eleni.

“Things are dangerous now, even for us. Especially for us. I talked to Magda and she agreed. You must be brought to safety. Alone you would be a target.”

“For what?” said Eleni. Fin was silent. Eleni shook her head. “You have seen me,” she said. “You have seen what I can do. How could I possibly be a target for anything? People run when they see what I am.”

“These aren't people, Eleni,” said Fin. “They're something very different.”

“Monsters?” said Eleni. She snorted. “I killed monsters every day before you came and scared them all off.”

“Not monsters either,” said Fin. He looked scared, nervous, just from the talking.

“Just tell me,” said Eleni, exasperated. “What should I be so afraid of?”

Fin swallowed. He breathed noisily out of his nose as he looked at her. “God-eaters,” he said.

Eleni shook her head, confused. “God-eaters?”

“They stalk the gods,” said Fin. “I don't know how they do it, or how they learned, but they've found a way to absorb a god's power. It is supposed to go out into the universe and the god starts all over again in some fortunate woman's belly. But they have learned how to take the essence, the soul. Everything that makes that god a god. And they get stronger with every kill. Their targets keep getting bigger and stronger.”

“This is the danger you were talking about?” said Eleni. “You think I am the target for these...these creatures?” She laughed. “I am no god, Fin.”

Fin was quiet for three heartbeats. Eleni knew because she could hear her pulse in her ears. She didn't know why. She felt like she had just run through the forest. “Eleni, when were you born?”

“I told you,” she said. “After the fire.”

“I just want you to think about that for a moment,” said Fin. Eleni couldn't tell if he was angry or worried or scared. Maybe all three. “You were born just after the fire. Just after the death of Zaric, the great god of fire. Just after his power, searching the earth for a place to go, burned everything in its path so deeply that it took ten summers for anything to start to grow again. That is how powerful he was.” He looked at her, intensity in his eyes that Eleni didn't quite understand. “And that is how powerful you can be.”

“Stop it,” said Eleni.

“It's the truth,” said Fin. “You keep asking for the truth, but you don't really want it. You want to run around the forest with your wolf. You want to believe your mother is being held prisoner. You want to believe that you don't need anyone else. All those things were fine before. But now it's too dangerous, Eleni. You are angry with me for saying this, but it's the truth you want, and it's the truth I'm giving to you. You cannot beat these god-eaters. If they find you, if they sense you, they will come after you. And you can't fight them on your own.”

“Words,” said Eleni.

“What?” said Fin.

“All you have are words,” she said. “I have not seen anything with my own eyes. Why should I believe you? I am no goddess.”

“Then what are you?” said Fin. “Do you know any other girls that can wield fire? Any other mortals that can burn a village to dust in minutes? Anyone else that can spend all night fighting monsters and hunting and slinging boars and deer over their shoulders and carrying them for hours?”

Eleni looked away. “You mock me,” she said softly.

“No,” said Fin. “I am telling you who you are. You just don't want to listen.”

“I'm listening,” she said.

“Eleni, you have to trust me,” said Fin. Eleni looked sharply at him. “I know you're feeling betrayed right now. Everything you thought you knew was false. But I'm not lying to you. I'm here to help you. Do you understand?”

“I have been lied to all my life,” said Eleni.

“I know,” said Fin. “Mortals lie to make themselves feel better. They lie to each other, themselves, their children. But I am not a mortal. And neither are you. You're not even human. You are so much more.”

“I have always thought of myself as human,” said Eleni. She pushed a strand of hair off her face. “You do not think my mother is human either, do you?”

Fin shook his head. “She is not.”

“Is she a goddess too?”

“No,” said Fin. “Something more. Something more infinite. A mortal could never have carried Zaric in her belly. She would have been incinerated.”

“What is she, then?”

“One of the Sudice,” said Fin. “The Moirai where she is from. The Fates.”

“Then Magda is...one of these too?”

Fin nodded. “Yes. But they are separated. They are vulnerable when they are not together. Magda needs her sisters, just as her sisters need Magda.” He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Does this mean you believe me?”

Eleni looked down at the wolf. She had been extraordinarily still at her side. She barely felt the animal's breath as she leaned against her leg. She looked up at her with yellow eyes and she felt calm. She knew she had to trust this man—this god, if he was telling the truth.

“For now,” said Eleni. “Until I see otherwise.”

“I can accept that,” said Fin.

Eleni shrugged. “You will have to.”

They walked much of the way in relative silence, Fin throwing her curious looks from time to time. They stopped to rest only once, and Eleni and the wolf went out of sight to hunt, coming back quickly with two rabbits. The wolf licked happily at blood on her maw. Fin ate his bread in silence as he watched Eleni skillfully skin and cook the rabbit, using only her hands. She gave Fin back his drinking horn. Fin protested, but Eleni simply shook her head.

“I tasted what you have inside. I did not like it.”

Fin laughed. “It's a treat where I come from,” he said.

Eleni looked up at the mountains. “It will be dawn soon,” she said. The lightning flashed, forking across the width of two mountains.

“That's the first one I've seen all night,” said Fin.

“What?” said Eleni.

“The lightning,” said Fin. “There must not be many to fight this night.”

Eleni frowned. “I do not understand.”

“You know what the lightning is, don't you?” he said.

“It is lightning,” said Eleni. “It just is.”

“Nothing just is,” said Fin. “ It's Perun up there in those mountains. He fights the gods who want to enter and won't take no for an answer.”

“Perun is real?” said Eleni. “I thought that was just a tale my mother told me.” But even as she said the words, a face flashed in her mind. An angry face with a white beard.

“Oh, he's real enough,” said Fin. He rubbed his left shoulder. “I've had my tangles with him, too. He hit me three times with that damned lightning of his before he realized I wasn't a threat. The gods call me the Traveler, you see. I help them all. I'm loyal to none.”

Eleni grunted, nodding and stuffing rabbit meat into her mouth. She wiped the grease with the back of her hand. She chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “Why is he attacking gods that want to enter?”

“Some of the more powerful fellows, they get territorial. They don't want other gods coming in and taking over. And since the fire, well...there are not as many people, are there?”

“I do not know,” said Eleni.

Fin smiled. Eleni noticed his mouth went lopsided when he smiled. One canine had been chipped and looked sharper than the rest. She liked the way he smiled.

“No,” he said. “There are not as many people to worship. Some places, the people were wiped out. Some gods crave the worship like your wolf craves meat and blood and killing. It makes them strong, invincible. So they walk around like specters, looking for humans, anyone to worship them. Perun doesn't like the other gods coming here. Everyone knows what will happen if they come anyway, but some don't care. They only think that there could be mortals about. Perun gives them one chance to turn around, then he defends his land.”

“It is not his land,” said Eleni. “The land is the land.”

“Indeed,” said Fin. “But he calls it his. And none have yet beat him to prove otherwise.”

“It sounds like a great waste of time,” said Eleni. She looked toward the sky again. “We should go. It will be light soon.”

“How can you be so sure?” said Fin.

“The wolf is gone,” said Eleni. “The sun always comes up right after she runs off.”

They walked the rest of the way without stopping, arriving at a ridge jutting between the thick of the trees just before mid-morning. The mist was still rising off of the ground, as if in one great sheet. Eleni could not see her own feet. She had never been this far into the forest. She had always turned back before this point to get back to the village before daylight. The trees wore long, flowing moss like jewelry, the green almost glowing in the sunlight. The colors of the day overwhelmed her senses. The red of the berries in a currant bush, the blue of the sky just visible between chattering leaves and needles, the cool dew glistening like stars in the sunlight on a branch. She had forgotten about the color and beauty that the day brought, so long had she been permitted out only at night.

Eleni followed Fin to the ridge. There was a short drop into a low area that Eleni saw spread out in front of them, as if a flood long ago carved the land like a knife. The trees were sparse below, spindly, young, and undeveloped. Between the small trees were houses, dozens of them. They were not like any houses Eleni had ever seen. They were colorful and bright and seemed to be made of heavy cloth or leather. Some of them had pictures painted on them, large symbols that Eleni didn't understand, similar to the Daci symbols that warded off evil. The symbols hadn't done much to help her village, and Eleni doubted they would be any more effective here.

There was a bright red house almost exactly in the middle of the camp. Eleni squinted. Black birds perched on top and all around it. She startled when she noticed dozens of eyes looking back at her from the trees. They were ravens – normal ones, not like the strange white one – but they were watching her in perfect silence. She looked at Fin. He shrugged.

“Magda's. You'll get used to them.”

She could smell the scent of the Reivers, but she only saw people. Small from this distance, she could see men draped in something that looked like furs over their shoulders, and women in dresses as bright as the strange houses. There was a flash of white and a screech that made Eleni's ears throb, and then the white raven was sitting on Fin's shoulder.

“Hello, Mati,” said Fin.

“Why do you call him a name?” said Eleni. “He is an animal. Animals do not have names.”

“Do they not?” said Fin. “How can you be sure?” Eleni frowned at him. “Do you not call your wolf by a name?”

“She is not mine,” said Eleni. “She is her own. And she has no name. I call her nothing, just as she calls me nothing.”

“Nothing it is,” said Fin, smiling with his eyes again. Eleni always thought he was mocking her when he looked like that. She stiffened. “Next time I see your...er, the wolf, I shall call her Nothing.”

“You can do what you like,” said Eleni. “It will make no difference to an animal.”

Fin smiled at her. “Are you ready?”

Eleni nodded. “Yes.”

They set off down a trail tamped down on the ridge, muddy from the dew and the mist. Eleni could see her breath. It wasn't smoke this time, but fog from the cold of the air. Above the smell of Reivers, she could smell the coming snow.

As they neared the camp, the movement stopped. The people stopped to gape at the newcomers, frozen where they had been gathering wood or tending to the children or, among the men, talking in a huddle and occasionally hitting each other. There was whispering, and more men and women trickled out of the makeshift houses to look at Fin and Eleni. Eleni was sure they were focused on her. The white raven called Mati flew up off of Fin's shoulder and flapped across the camp to land on another shoulder. Eleni peered through the people to see an old woman, older than anyone Eleni had ever seen. Her spine was curved and her hair hung down her shoulders long and gray. She was dressed in black that contrasted with her raven. When she saw Eleni, she stood up as straight as she was able to. The black ravens Eleni had seen from above seemed to watch the old woman, a half dozen of them hopping along behind her.

But Eleni's eyes shifted away from the crone she knew to be her aunt. She looked around at the strange village. Everything was temporary. The houses she had seen from above were just sheets of tanned hide wrapped around round wooden frames. Most looked as though a good wind would topple them. The women were painfully thin, the skin clinging to their bones; the children's eyes dark and bruised, their skin sallow. The babies didn't make a sound but just hung limply in their mothers' arms. The men, all big, tall and almost awkwardly broad, looked healthy and well-fed and strong. Many had wolf skins draped around their shoulders, some with the heads still attached. They carried weapons made of polished boar in slings on their backs, the handles jutting out of the leather. The men looked at each other, blinking nervously, then back to her.

Eleni stepped forward, looking over the crowd. The smell of Reivers filled her nostrils, making her want to spit. With resolve, she stepped toward the first man, whose eyes shifted around at the others around him. He seemed afraid to look at Eleni. She could smell fear in his bitter sweat. She forced herself to lean forward and breathe in his stench. She looked up at him and he finally met her eyes. Eleni shook her head.

She walked purposefully toward the next man, passing a mother whose breasts lay empty and flat under her shift, in her arms a jaundiced baby almost as thin as she was. Eleni turned her attention to the man. He took a step back, but Eleni took another one forward. She leaned forward and breathed in the smell of unwashed Reiver and old grease. She shook her head again. Again she walked to the next man, the largest one that she could see. He stood a head above the others and had a pompous look on his face that reminded Eleni of Cosmin.

“Eleni,” said a sharp voice, and the old woman emerged through the crowd, the women making way for her. “What is this?”

Eleni turned, ignoring her. She sniffed the large man. He was cleaner than the others, though the smell of Reiver was more pronounced. Eleni met his eyes and saw he was not as afraid as the others. He just stared back at her, bemused. Eleni turned away. She approached the next man. He was shaking, she saw as she moved to confront him. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He was thinner than the other men and had the look of a weasel about his eyes and nose. He was clutching a pouch. Eleni could feel something radiating from him that she couldn't quite understand. Something familiar and welcome, though it was disarming coming from this man that smelled of rotten meat and urine. He had a fur slung over his shoulder, though the hair was matted and dirty, encrusted with food and something brown that looked suspiciously like dried blood.

Eleni knew before she inhaled that she had found what she sought.

“Eleni,” said the old woman again. “Is this how you treat family? Will you not greet me?”

“I will,” said Eleni, not looking away from the man's twitchy eyes. She held out her hand to the man. “You have something that belongs to me, small man,” she said. The man shook his head. “If I have to look for it, it is going to hurt,” said Eleni.

The man feverishly reached inside his shirt and pulled something over his head. He held it out to Eleni. She took it, her eyes drawn to it. It was a round, clear orb, like a bubble in the stream, and was no bigger than an acorn. But inside, tiny bolts of lightning flashed and forked and hit the sides of its prison, seemingly desperate to be released. The flashing bauble felt hard and cool, but a feeling came over her, a feeling she associated with her mother. A feeling of safety, of feeling protected. But there was more. The small lightning also hinted at a memory of pain that throbbed in Eleni's chest.

The Reivers were staring at her. She dropped the leather strap over her head and tucked the pendant under the fabric of her dress. She looked back at the weasel in front of her. He had been staring at her, but looked away when she looked at him. “You hurt a friend of mine,” Eleni said. “His name was Alin. He is dead now.”

The man swallowed, his eyes flickering from Eleni to someone standing behind her. Eleni turned to see the ancient woman. One of her eyes was dead and white, but her other eye, a vibrant blue that had clouded slightly with age, seemed to be boring into the man.

“You were told,” said the old woman in a controlled, tight voice, “to leave the old man alone.”

The weasel's jaw moved like he was trying to talk, but no sound came out. His eyes were wild with fear, small and darting. They reminded Eleni of a cornered pig. Magda turned her good eye on Eleni.

“Child, my apologies. If you wish to kill him, I will not object. But I would ask you to let his brethren do it in their own way.”

Eleni looked at the old woman for a long moment. “Thank you,” she said. “I do not wish him dead.”

Magda shook her head, misunderstanding. “Why not, child? You have every right to kill him.”

“Alin died because he wanted to,” said Eleni. “I could have saved him. But for the pain caused to him...” Eleni turned to the man, who looked scared and now bewildered by the conversation going on. “Give me your weapon,” said Eleni.

“Wh-what?” he said.

“That weapon,” said Eleni. “On your back. What is it called?” Eleni looked at Magda.

“Falx,” said the old woman, looking at Eleni with wonder. “It is called a falx.”

“Falx,” said Eleni to the man. “Give it to me.”

The man shook his head, but lifted the leather strap that held the blade safely at his back. Eleni took it. She pulled the handle out of the leather pouch and turned it this way and that. It was a long blade, as long as Eleni's arm, and murderously curved at the end like it had been bent in on itself. Eleni replaced it in its leather and slung the strap across her chest. “This will do,” she said. But she didn't look away from the man. He had sweat soaking his hair and running down his face. Eleni looked around her at the crowd gathered.

“Why are these people starving?” she asked the man in front of her. He shook his head, his mouth moving soundlessly again. Eleni sighed.

The biggest man stepped forward. Eleni had to look up to see his face. He was glowering. He looked to Magda. “I mean no disrespect, Grandmother,” he said, “but our ways are our own. Not for this kivul to judge.”

“Men that refuse to feed their children are not men at all,” hissed Eleni, looking up at him with disdain.

The big man's eyes widened with rage. He clenched his fists. Magda stepped in front of him. “Elek,” Magda said. “I think you forget yourself sometimes. If you do not want Eleni to burn your own village to the ground with you all in it, I suggest you show the goddess some respect.”

Eleni watched the exchange without emotion. It meant nothing to see a big man angry. They always thought they could hurt her until the very end, when they came to regret their decisions. She had no reason to shrink from this man who thought he was as a wolf. The thought was almost laughable to her. Wolves were quiet and noble. This man was garish and had a cruel glint in his eyes.

Eleni turned back to the weasel. “You will fetch food for the women and children,” she said. “Do this, and I will not kill you.”

“B-but...” said the man, looking indignant. “You took my weapon.”

“Yes,” said Eleni. “You will find other ways. I have been hunting for my village for many years. The men were too afraid to do it. Are you too afraid, small man?” Her tone was not confrontational, but casual, as if commenting on the weather.

The man's eyes flicked to the big man. Eleni looked at him. He had his head down, but was glowering at her. Eleni looked at him curiously.

“You will do this,” said Magda to the weasel. “Do as she says, or I will kill you myself.”

“You are a coward,” said Eleni. She handed him back the falx. “Very well, take the weapon. But you will hunt for your people. Do you understand? Starting now.”

The man took a step back, unsure, the falx pressed to his chest. He looked at Eleni. She responded by lifting her hand and allowing a flame to burst from her palm. The man scrambled away from her quickly, and into to the forest. Eleni looked around at the crowd of people,mostly women, some children, a few old men. They were whispering and looking at Eleni. Eleni made a fist and extinguished the flame. She looked beyond them to the figure standing at the edge of the crowd, in shadow and sunlight at the same time. Fin looked back at her, an odd small smile on his face. He tipped his hat to Eleni and strode away, toward a blue tent at the edge of the encampment. Eleni touched the lump under her collar. The necklace sent a buzzing into her fingers.

“I hope you're pleased with yourself,” said a voice. Eleni turned for the first time to give her full attention to Magda.

“Pleased?” said Eleni. “Why would I be pleased?”

“Hrm,” Magda grunted. “Come with me,” she said, walking toward a green tent. “You will sleep first. Then I will tell you everything.”

Chapter Eight

The three figures loped up the slope, upright on two legs, but they would have looked just as menacing on four. They were covered in dark brown fur crusted in ice and snow. If not for their sheer power and the size of the gleaming white teeth protruding from their jaws, they would have looked almost comical, awkwardly stumbling up the mountain. As it was, the very trees seemed to shy away from the three, crashing their way up to the summit. There was a fierce intelligence behind their cruel black eyes, and when all three turned to face Perun at the top of the mountain, even the great god of lightning hesitated.

Perun stood tall and waited for the creatures to approach him. They looked on him with their beastly eyes. He flexed his fingers, readying himself should they choose to attack. It was in their best interest to keep their distance, but Perun didn't trust them. And with every task, they had grown stronger with the essence they believed was making them into gods. Perun feared that soon he wouldn't be able to kill them. But he couldn't lose them now. Not yet. He was so close.

Though he towered over most men, Perun had to crane his neck to look up at the two that stood in front of him. The third lingered behind, smaller in stature, but still immense. Perun had never heard the small one make a sound. He was always watching, those sharp black eyes examining, boring into him every time they met. The quiet one made Perun even more uneasy than the larger, noisier two. He had shown up with Skoll and Hati only recently, and any inquiry into who he was or where he came from was met with growls and snarls.

The quiet creature stared at Perun, as if watching a performance, a play-act. If he hadn't had the head of a wolf, Perun would say he wore an almost bemused expression. Perhaps he was only imagining it.

“Our payment,” growled Skoll, in a voice that put Perun's teeth on edge. It was a voice that was not meant to be a voice. Something meant only for snarls and howling and guttural growls. “You will give it to us now.” Frozen slaver was icicled on the beast's chin. His lipless mouth curled up over his teeth as though containing the urge to rip out Perun's throat.

“In good time,” said Perun. “First, tell me if you found him.”

“He cannot be found,” said Hati, matching his brother's fierce tone. “He does not exist in the world. We have searched everywhere for him.”

“He's here,” said Perun. “You have found someone, haven't you?”

Skoll stopped baring his teeth, which Perun guessed was the same as smiling for him. “Three,” he said. “Two sisters and a brother. We found them on the Western Islands. They put up a great fight. But we were stronger.”

“What were they?” said Perun.

“Order gods,” said a voice. Perun looked up to realize it was the first thing the small one had ever said in his presence. He spoke clearly, unlike the other two, but there was venom in his voice.

“Indeed,” said Perun. “And where are they?”

The brothers turned toward the third, whose great, clawed paw went to a pouch at the quiet one's hip. Perun had not even noticed it before because it was covered in fur the same color and texture as the beast's. His movements were smooth and Perun frowned. He tried to remember the third beast's name, but he couldn't remember if he had ever known it. The beast seemed to sense Perun's thoughts because he looked up at him. Something passed in the beast's eyes, making Perun blink at him. For a moment the eyes had turned a deep shade of violet, Perun was sure of it.

Perun caught the pouch from the great wolf-beast. Finding the opening in all the fur, he emptied the object out into his hand. Perun held the carved horn up to the light. It was so light, it was hard to believe what it contained. The designs carved into the bone were foreign to him. There were symbols among the weave-work that Perun didn't understand. Every time he saw it, it vexed him. He should know what they meant. He was a god, after all. Nothing was a mystery to him. No written or spoken language should have been alien. Yet here he was squinting at the corked horn, as unable to understand as a mortal. Perhaps his power was fading. He banished the thought as soon as it had come. Impossible.

Perun looked at the hulking wolf-men. Skoll looked as though he were ready to pounce, his muscles coiled and his eyes watching Perun. Hati licked his teeth. The quiet one just stood, watching him.

“Remind me,” said Perun, his eyes on the flask. “Skoll, your brother's name.”

“You do not know me?” snarled Hati.

“Not you,” said Perun. “Your third.” His eyes met the beast's and Perun swore his liquid black eyes filled with amusement. But he blinked and it was gone. Skoll looked back at him.

“Not our brother,” growled Skoll. His lip curled to reveal teeth as long as Perun's fingers. “But family. He is not your concern.”

“I would like to know who I am trusting,” said Perun. He swallowed. He was a god, he should not feel nervous. He knew he could turn the brothers to ash with his lightning. But it was the other that made him increasingly uneasy. He could never remember much about the creature when he wasn't looking at him. And he felt he should know his name, but when he searched his mind for it, he couldn't remember. Something very strange about him.

Hati snarled and Skoll scratched his chest, flexing his knife-like claws. “We are the sons of Fenrir,” said Skoll, his black nostrils flaring. “We do not earn trust.”

“Have it your way,” said Perun. It would be a pleasure to kill these abominations. But for now, he needed them. He could not leave just yet. Even now he could feel another approaching the mountains. They never stopped trying to get in. He could send the wolves after him but he needed them on a different path.

“I have seen something,” said Perun. “Just for a moment. Down there.” He pointed down the mountainside, towards the canopy of an old and wild forest. It was unusual to see aged wilderness, but it was easy to see why it had been protected. It was surrounded by high mountains, like the one they stood upon now.

“What is it?” said Skoll, squinting his eyes.

“You cannot see it, but there is a village down there. I felt him there, just for a moment. Then he was gone. I want you to find him. He may be at the village, protected by something. Or someone. Or he may have gone off. The only other things in that forest are Reivers, and I very much doubt he would deign to hide amongst them. Too much pride.”

“How do you know this?” said Hati. “He may not be the same.”

“We are gods,” said Perun. “We are unchanging.” The quiet one gazed at him and Perun looked away. “Find him. Kill him. Bring what is left back to me.” He frowned. “I have also sensed someone else that could cause trouble, but I believe her to be mostly harmless.”

“Who?” said Skoll.

“The Crone,” said Perun. “Without her sisters, she is useless. She can do nothing but flap at you with that raven of hers.”

“A Norn?” said Skoll, looking at Hati. “We cannot kill a Norn.”

“Of course you can't kill her,” said Perun with a sigh. “Nothing kills the Sudice. I said she was harmless. Ignore her. Tie her up with her own entrails. She is not my concern. You know who it is I seek.”

“Our payment,” growled Hati.

“Yes, fine,” said Perun. He rubbed his thumb against his index finger and felt the power spark. Only a god could use the essence of another god, and even then, you had to be very powerful. Perun only meted out very small amounts to these wolves. Any more, and they would be too powerful to overcome later. Placing two fingers on the flask, he pulled the contents gently through the polished bone. Pulling his fingers away, he felt the residue on his hand. Skoll stepped forward and Perun placed his hand on the beast's chest and let his power carry just enough essence into the monster. Skoll lay in the snow where he had been thrown by the force and blinked into the snow that had begun to fall. Perun repeated the process, and Hati was on the ground next to his brother.

Perun motioned for the third to come forward. The beast stepped toward him, but to Perun's surprise, he shook his head. “Allow me,” he said, in his smooth voice, so unlike the rough voices of his brethren. He took the flask from Perun's hand and held it in two cupped paws. Perun felt the earth shudder under his feet. The snow fell from the trees, quivered its way in chunks down the side of the mountain. The wolf-man in front of him was no longer a wolf, but a tall, slender man, naked, with plaited silver hair that fell over his shoulders. His violet eyes glowed as he absorbed the entire contents of the bone flask. Perun could see his veins throbbing and bursting with light all through his body, pulsating up his neck and through his arms with a shining lump pounding in his chest.

The man closed his eyes as the light faded, but Perun could see the symbols lit up on the flask like fire, a flask that Perun knew was now empty, but moments ago had contained the souls of three gods. The man gradually returned to normal and then, as though it had never been, became once again a hideous wolf-creature just as his cohorts rose from the snow, not seeming to be aware of what had just taken place.

“We go now,” said Skoll and headed toward the place Perun had pointed out. Hati followed. The third stepped toward Perun and took the fur pouch from him. His eyes glowed violet again for a just a moment as he looked at the lightning god. He dropped the horn carved from bone into the pouch.

“You know me now, don't you, old man?” he said quietly, baring his teeth in what resembled a smile. Then he walked away, following the other two.

Perun did know him. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.

“Loki,” he said.

Chapter Nine

Eleni awoke at dusk. Before she even opened her eyes she knew someone was watching her. She looked to the corner of the tent to see a girl hunkered down in the shadows, something in her hand. The girl started when Eleni sat up. Fear was radiating from her.

“Why are you afraid?” said Eleni.

The girl didn't answer. She started to stand up, seeming to want to do something, but crouched back down again, as if unsure.

“I won't hurt you,” said Eleni. “Come.”

After a few stops and starts, the girl finally managed to get up the nerve to walk over to Eleni. She was not as young as Eleni had first thought. She was nearly a woman, though so thin that she looked scrawny. She moved with her head down, as if she were afraid to meet Eleni's eyes. The object in her hand appeared to be a carved wooden comb. She had a bundle under her other arm.

“Is that for me?” said Eleni.

The girl stared at Eleni for a moment, before seeming to remember what she came for. She nervously handed Eleni the bundle under her arm, visibly jumping when Eleni reached out to take it. It was softer than anything Eleni had ever touched. Eleni spread the fabric out and saw it was a dress, made of strips of fabric smooth as water that shifted under her hand. She ran her finger over the embroidery. Dozens of suns sewn into the skirt of the dress in reds and oranges. The colors were so bright they almost hurt Eleni's eyes, but she couldn't look away from it. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given her.

“This is for me?” Eleni said. The girl nodded quickly, staring with wide, dark eyes that seemed to fill up her whole face. “I thank you.”

“I'm to comb your hair,” the girl said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

“Why?” said Eleni, still holding the dress against her. It felt cool against her hot skin.

“Grandmother told me to.”

“Grandmother?” said Eleni. “You mean Magda?”

“Yes,” said the girl.

“Why do you call her grandmother?” said Eleni. “Are you blood?”

“No,” said the girl, losing some of her nervousness. “It is a way we honor her.”

“Give me the comb,” said Eleni. “I will do it.”

The girl tentatively handed Eleni the comb. Eleni began dragging it through her tangles, feeling the roots rip out. Eleni tried to pull the comb out but it had become tangled in the knots. Gritting her teeth she began to yank at it.

“Stop it,” the girl said, seeming to have lost her fear. “You'll rip the hair from your head.” She sat down next to Eleni and swatted her hand away from the comb. Gently, she unraveled Eleni's hair that had wrapped around the comb. Taking chunks of Eleni's hair in one hand, she carefully picked at the knots with the comb with the other.

“My name is Iren,” she said.

“I am Eleni.”

“I know.”

The girl was silent for a long time, the only sound the pulling of the comb on Eleni's hair. Eleni relaxed into the silence. The last person that had tended to her hair was her mother, and that was so long ago, it seemed. A lifetime ago. She had tried to use her fingers when she bathed, but it wasn't the same.

“You have so much hair,” said Iren at last, breaking the silence. Eleni said nothing. “It is so red,” the girl said, sounding as though she was marveling at it.

“One cannot help the color of their hair,” said Eleni. When she was growing up, her hair had been just another bad omen, to everyone but her mother. Eleni realized that she had been far less lonely in her box than in the village. Even if she had been allowed in the village, she thought she probably would have preferred her box.

“I'm sorry,” said Iren weakly. “I didn't mean anything by it. It's just...I think it's beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” said Eleni, frowning. “No one has ever said that before.”

“Everyone's saying it here,” the girl said. “All the women.” She laughed. “They think you'll take away their husbands.”

Eleni snorted. “I want nothing to do with their husbands,” she said. “I need no man.”

“That must be exciting,” said Iren, working on a particularly big knot.

“What?” said Eleni.

“Not needing a man,” said the girl. “My people say I need to get married soon. A woman cannot survive without a man in this forest.”

“The men do not seem to be good providers,” said Eleni. “When was the last time you ate your fill?” Iren didn't answer. “Better to learn yourself than depend on someone else,” said Eleni.

“I don't have the power that you do,” said Iren, almost sadly. “My mother says I should marry Balyn. That I should offer myself to him. He is the one whose falx you took this morning.”

“The weasel?” said Eleni. “Do not marry him. You will starve.”

“I haven't much choice,” said Iren.

“Everyone has a choice,” said Eleni. She thought for a moment. “I will show you. I make no promises, but if I can, I will teach you about the forest. Have you a weapon?”

The girl stopped combing and Eleni looked around at her. The girl was staring at Eleni with something like shock. “Women aren't supposed to wield weapons,” she said slowly.

“I didn't ask that,” said Eleni. “I asked if you had one.”

Iren bit her lip. Finally, she nodded slowly. “It was my father's. A bow.”

“Can you shoot it?”

“You won't tell Magda?”

“Why would I tell Magda?” said Eleni.

Iren looked to the entrance of the tent. Voices carried in from the camp, but they were muted. “I can,” Iren whispered. “I've been practicing. Since I was a girl.”

“Good,” said Eleni. “I will tell you when.” She turned back around so Iren could finish her hair. She finished in silence, the sound of the comb against the tangles like a hollow pop in the crisp evening air. When she was finished she lurched forward and reached her arms around Eleni in an embrace. Eleni wasn't sure what to do, but a second later, the girl was at the tent opening, beaming back at Eleni as she left.

Eleni found Magda at the center of camp. She had taken off her boots and was warming her feet by the small fire. Black ravens surrounded her. She smiled when she saw Eleni.

“I find that it becomes more and more difficult to stay warm,” Magda said, as Eleni lowered herself to sit on the log next to the old woman, disturbing a raven that flapped its wings in irritation as it hopped out of the way.

“Fin says your kind cannot die,” said Eleni. “Why?”

“Right to the point,” Magda said. “It would not hurt you to learn some niceties.”

“Fin says that, too,” said Eleni.

“He's right,” she said, looking into the fire. “You must get along with people to lead them.”

“Why would I lead anyone?” said Eleni.

“It is your path,” said Magda. “You are Zaric. You must learn these things or you will never restore your greatness.”

“You say I am Zaric,” said Eleni, “but I have seen no proof.”

“You knew me when you saw me, did you not?” said Magda, turning to look at her. The hard coldness of her good eye reminded Eleni of the iron gates back at the village.

“Yes,” Eleni admitted. “I knew you.”

“Even though we had never met?” said Magda.

“Yes,” said Eleni. “But that proves nothing.”

“Has it ever happened to you before?” said Magda. “This knowing?”

“Yes,” said Eleni. “With Fin. Not at first, but I knew him. In my head he was another name, though.”

“Alaunus,” said the crone, nodding knowingly. “Your senses are heightened, too, are they not? You know what is there, in the dark? Even when no one else does?” Eleni frowned, but said nothing. “Animals, monsters, even gods. You know they are there before anyone else does. That is a god's power.”

“I didn't know Fin was there,” said Eleni. “He surprised me.”

“Well, Alaunus has a way with moving quietly. He is of a family of order gods. Things become balanced when he is around. Sometimes I wonder if his feet even touch the ground when he walks. He leaves no step, no clue that he has been in a place. It is a curious power, and the Islands are a curious place.”

“If many have been looking for me, though, why could they not sense me? You said a god's power was in the sensing. I do not cause balance.”

Magda laughed. “I should say not.”

“Then why?”

“Ah,” said Magda, raising a crooked finger and placing it gently over the lump in the front of her chest. The necklace thrummed against Eleni's breastbone. “That is your explanation,” she said. “Anja has saved your life many times over with that bauble.”

“My mother?” said Eleni. “What is it?” Her hand went to the hard, round circle at her neck.

Magda was quiet for a moment. “I don't know,” she said finally. “But I can feel the power coming from it. I don't recognize it. On its face it appears to be of Perun, but the power is different.”

“How do you know?”

“I've been alive for a very long time,” said Magda. “And I know all the gods on the earth. They used to fear me. But the necklace, Perun hasn't the power to make such magic. Perhaps it is not of the world.”

“Not of the world?” said Eleni. “I don't understand.”

“Nor do I,” said Magda. “But there are many things I don't understand. The stars, the Underworld, lately I have not even understood the world itself.”

Eleni sat in silence for a time. She straightened her skirt and watched the colors change as the reflection of the fire flickered against them. “Do you know where she is?” she said. “Where is my mother?”

Magda frowned into the fire. “You should not call her that. Gods do not have mothers.”

“Maybe I'm not a god,” said Eleni.

Magda looked at her, her sharp eye clashing with her ancient face. “You are,” she said. “It is unusual, though.”

“What?”

Magda shook her head. “You don't look like him. Like yourself.”

Eleni frowned in confusion. “How can I not look like myself? You are not talking sense. Nothing here makes sense to me.”

“Your former self, child. Zaric. He was dark and broad. And you were born a woman. Small and pale and...” her eyes wandered up to Eleni's hair. “Red,” she said. “Just like Anja. It does not work that way. We are carriers to the gods. We do not consider ourselves mothers. The gods have no mothers. The gods are the gods.”

“You haven't answered my question,” said Eleni. “Do you know where she is?”

Magda smiled sadly. “No,” she said. “I don't know where Anja is.”

“But you will help me find her,” said Eleni. It wasn't a question.

Magda's nostrils flared. “I will never stop looking for her,” said Magda.

There was a woman's scream and Eleni heard some men shouting. Eleni whirled around to see a sleek black shape burst through the men that had come running with their falxes drawn. The wolf stopped at Eleni's side and sat calmly at her feet. Eleni reached down and stroked her fur, fully aware of the uncomprehending glares she was receiving. There was a collective muttering. Women had come out of their tents, smoothing their dresses and looking around for the source of the commotion.

“That wolf is going to cause you some trouble here,” said Magda. But she reached tentatively down and touched the wolf's thick fur.

Elek approached them from the crowd, looking angry. Before he could even open his mouth, Magda was standing and turned to face him.

“The wolf is Eleni's companion, Elek,” she said, her voice clear enough to be heard over the whisperings. “It shall not be harmed.”

The man with the weasel face that the girl Iren had called Balyn joined Elek, looking at the wolf like he was dying of thirst and the wolf was a spring.

“That is quite an animal,” Balyn said, licking his lips. “A black wolf.”

Eleni didn't rise. She eyed the mangy hide slung around Balyn's thin shoulders. It must have been one of the puny wolves that traveled in a pack and came down from the mountains sometimes.

“You will stay away from her,” said Eleni. “She will rip you apart.”

Balyn snorted. “I'm a Reiver. No ordinary wolf could take me down.”

“You think she is ordinary?” said Eleni. “Have you ever seen a wolf that came up to a man's ribcage?”

“Obviously this is no ordinary wolf. The gods will punish you if it is harmed,” said Magda.

Elek was looking at the wolf. He didn't look hungry, as Balyn did; only thoughtful.

“The children are hungry,” said Balyn.

“Then go get them some food,” said Eleni. She was beginning to get angry.

“I brought back a rabbit,” Balyn said defensively.

Eleni snorted.

“I am made for battle, not hunting for a bunch of women,” said Balyn, his voice becoming high and wheezy.

“That is not a wolf,” said Elek, so softly that Eleni barely heard him.

“What?” said Balyn. “Elek,” he said, his voice low, but loud enough for Eleni to hear. “These women are trying to change everything.”

Elek seemed to tear his eyes from the animal at Eleni's side. The wolf was gazing at the large man in an oddly steady, calm way. “Shut your mouth, boy,” said Elek, seeming to notice Balyn for the first time. Balyn seemed to shrink under Elek's eyes. “Go home,” said Elek.

“What?” said Balyn.

“Go to your tent and go to sleep,” said Elek slowly. “When you wake, you will go out into the forest. By nightfall you will bring food for the women and children.”

Balyn glared at Eleni for a moment, but seemed unable to meet her eyes. After a moment, he slunk off to his tent. Elek turned to Eleni.

“I doubted you before,” he said. He nodded, looking thoughtful again. He looked at the wolf. “My people, we are taught that women are weak. I doubted that Zaric could come back as a woman. But I see you now. I see the strength in you. You fear no man. You keep company with a wolf that is not a wolf. That is something else, something holy, I think.” Elek licked his dry lips and looked at Eleni. He shook his shaggy head. “Balyn is an idiot. My brother's son. He does not know yet the sanctity of who we are or our brothers the natural wolves.” Elek frowned. Suddenly he crouched down, his knee to the ground, in front of Eleni. “I hope you can forgive me. Forgive us.”

Eleni glanced at Magda, whose eyebrows were raised in a look of shock. The old woman looked down at the wolf and narrowed her eyes.

“There is nothing to forgive,” said Eleni. She felt a sudden pressure in her chest and she could feel fire flaring inside of her. She swallowed it down.

Elek nodded, as if that satisfied him.

“Why do you say this?” said Magda. Elek looked sharply at her. “The wolf,” said Magda. “What do you see when you look at it?”

Elek looked hard at Magda. “Everything,” he said. Then he rose and walked away, shooing curious children and men alike back to their tents.

“What is he talking about?” said Magda, seeming desperate to know. “What is your wolf?”

“She is a wolf,” said Eleni with a shrug. “But something else, too. I do not know what. It is her business, not mine. She is her own.”

“Do you know what just happened, Eleni?” said Magda. “With Elek?”

“I do not understand what any of that meant,” said Eleni, looking at Magda.

Magda looked at her and smiled a joyless smile. “You have just earned yourself a powerful ally, girl. The leader of the Reivers just took a knee before you. They will protect you to their dying breath.”

“I don't need protection,” said Eleni.

“You will, child,” said Magda sadly. “Something is coming. I feel it in my chest.”

“God-eaters?” said Eleni.

“Yes,” said Magda. “God-eaters.”

Eleni stood and stepped over the log.

“Where are you going?” said Magda.

“To hunt,” said Eleni.

“Child, it isn't safe. I think it's best if you stay here. Let the others do the hunting.”

“I always hunt at night,” said Eleni. “And don't follow me with that noisy crow. It frightens the animals away.”

“Mati is elsewhere this night,” said Magda. “Please be careful.”

Eleni didn't answer, just raised her hand in a wave as she turned, the wolf at her side.

Chapter Ten

Fin crouched down, his hands on the earth. He felt the power slide from deep in his chest, through his arms and through the palms of his hands. He loved the feel of the ground bursting with life beneath him, that, were it not for him, would have taken years to reach maturity. He watched the sapling sprout up between his hands. It rose into the air, gaining girth as it went, branches fanning out above him like a shelter. Fin sat back and admired his handiwork.

The truth was that this forest didn't need him. It had fared far better after the fire than anywhere else he had been, except for the North. It seemed relatively untouched here. Oddly, it made Fin long to be somewhere else, anywhere that needed him to fix things. He felt useless here, where all he did was sit with unnaturals and pretend that their families weren't starving. Although, he had to admit, it had been extremely satisfying to watch Eleni frighten them into submission.

Now there was a reason to stay: Eleni. Not because of her beauty, but because he was simply curious about her capabilities, about how she would use the power she held. While they were traveling, he had sensed a thrum of energy from her that nearly overwhelmed him. But then they had approached the camp, and he felt it subside. He suspected it had something to do with the necklace that the young Reiver had stolen. Though he had only seen it only for a moment, he knew magic when he felt it, and it felt dangerous and powerful. He had felt a different power after she dropped that necklace over her head, a strange and slightly dark power. But even stranger was the sensation that the necklace had been put in its proper place, a feeling he knew well. That necklace had been meant for her. He knew it as surely as he knew that it also meant trouble.

Fin looked toward the canopy. It had grown dark while he had sat ruminating. He stood up and brushed himself off. He heard a rustle and looked around. He squinted in the darkness. It had been foolish of him to stay away so long, but he had been loathe to return to the Reiver camp. He respected Magda enough to stay, enough to trust in her instincts, but he didn't have to like it.

Fin heard a soft swish and felt someone walk behind him. He turned slowly, quietly, and saw the back of a colorful skirt, clashing horribly in the forest, standing out almost as much as the shock of red hair. Fin was surprised she could ever creep up on anything. The wolf was at her side, turning her dark head to look at him. The golden eyes seemed to surmise him, to contemplate him almost. Then the animal looked away. Fin turned his attention to Eleni. Her every motion precise and smooth, she was more graceful than the wolf. Her movements were liquid, like a wild cat Fin had seen once in the mountains. The cat had been dark and sleek, and its movements so slow and deliberate it had almost been art.

Eleni stopped and sniffed the air and he was sure she would turn to look at him. But she turned to the right instead. Fin could see her in profile. She looked beautiful in the brightly-colored dress. Fin didn't usually care for the Reiver women, so sharp and angular and stern. But Eleni was wildness itself, healthy and pink and full of life. She had combed out her mess of hair and someone had plaited it for her. It hung in a rope as thick as his forearm down her back. Fin realized he was holding his breath and exhaled noisily. Eleni's face rounded on him, narrowing her eyes. Fin smiled and stood.

“Magda let you out of her sight,” he said.

Eleni moved toward him, her face impassive as usual. He could never read her. He wished he could figure out what she was thinking when he talked to her. He always felt mildly like an idiot. She fixed him with her clear, pale eyes.

“Why should I be any different from you?” she said.

“No reason,” he said. “She just gets protective of new gods is all. Like a mother badger.” Eleni's mouth twitched and he thought she almost smiled.

“Is that what I am?” she said. “A new god?”

“So you admit what you are, then,” said Fin.

“No,” said Eleni. “But I accept that it remains a possibility.”

“That's reasonable. May I walk with you for a bit?”

Eleni looked at the wolf, but the beast had lost interest in the two of them and was investigating a mossy log illuminated by the scant moonlight.

“Why?” she said.

Fin smiled. “I like your company.”

Eleni looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” she said. She began walking south, further away from the camp. She looked at Fin when he caught up. “I don't know how to be around others,” she said, looking pained.

“You don't have to be anything around others,” said Fin. “You seem to have done just fine on your own.”

Eleni clenched her jaw. “Magda does not approve of the way I do things.”

“Magda doesn't like to make waves,” said Fin, “unless she has to. All she cares about is finding her sisters. And if that means mingling with beasts that don't mind watching their wives and children starve, so be it. But you did right, Eleni. Don't doubt for a moment that you did right. Those kids will eat because of you.”

“I know I did right,” said Eleni. “I just do not understand Magda. Even the Reivers know.”

“What do you mean?” said Fin.

Eleni shrugged her small shoulders. “Elek kneeled to me tonight. Magda said he would die for me now. I don't know why he thinks I would want that, but it seemed to make Magda happy. I think.”

“Did he now?” said Fin. “Well, that is interesting.”

Eleni stopped and looked up at Fin. “I do not understand anything,” she said. “I don't know why Magda lives with thieves and murderers if she is so powerful. I don't know why people can't see sense. I don't know how to look at people or talk to people.”

“You're talking to me,” said Fin. “And you're looking right at me.”

“You are the only one that does not look away,” she said.

“Magda is one of the Three,” he said, trying to think of a way to explain it. “The Sudice, your people called them.”

“The Fates,” said Eleni. “You told me.”

“They control the fabric of the world. At least they did. Your mother, Anja, was one of the Three as well, though that hasn't always been her name. The other is called Danai. Before you were born, the sisters were separated somehow. Magda won't speak of it, so I don't know how it happened. Without her sisters, Magda is weak. She has very little power without the other two. But when they come together, they control the threads that weave the world together.”

“Threads?” said Eleni. “The world is not made of threads.”

“Just a figure of speech,” said Fin. “Not everything means what it sounds like.”

“I've noticed that,” said Eleni. “Magda has lost her power?”

“She can do very little,” said Fin. “Her place in the Fates was the present. The Now. She sees things as they are.”

“Doesn't everyone?”

“Not like Magda,” said Fin. “Your mother saw the paths of the future. And Danai, the past.”

“My mother saw the future?” said Eleni. “So she always knew she would leave me?”

“Perhaps not,” said Fin. “Maybe she saw what was coming, and the only way to save you was to leave. There is no way of knowing. Unless we find Danai. She could tell us where your mother went.”

“And where is Danai?” said Eleni. “Lost, too?”

Fin nodded. “Yes. Do you feel less confused? Now that you know?”

“No,” said Eleni. Her face had become impassive again. Fin wondered if it was a mask she put on. “Every answer leads to another question.”

Fin smiled. “Welcome to the world.” He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the wolf slinking under some low lying branches. She was stalking something. A moment later he heard a snap and the wet sound of something being pulled apart by the wolf's strong jaws. Fin swallowed, and saw that Eleni was watching him. “Are you hungry?” he said.

“No,” said Eleni, sounding slightly surprised. “Perhaps I am ill.”

“It's the Reivers,” said Fin.

“Reivers?” said Eleni. “I don't understand.”

Fin shrugged. “You have worshipers now. It's better than food for our kind.”

“I'd rather have food,” said Eleni.

“You'll find you're slightly more powerful as well. It drives most gods. The reason for the lightning in the mountains.” Fin looked skyward just as a great blue bolt lit up the sky. “Maybe the reason your mother is gone. This thirst for power fills us all, whether we like it or not. Gods seek it out no matter the risk.”

“Do you seek it?” said Eleni, stepping over a fallen log. Fin saw she pulled her new dress up so it wouldn't become soiled. He wondered if she had ever owned anything beautiful before. He guessed not. She deserved more than a Reiver camp.

“The power? No, I don't seek it,” said Fin. “Though sometimes it finds me anyway.”

“You are different,” said Eleni. “Aren't you? Different than the other gods.”

“I suppose I am,” he said.

“You don't seem like a god to me,” said Eleni.

“Do I not?” he said, pushing a veil of hanging moss out of the way. “What do I seem like then?”

“A man,” said Eleni. She was looking straight ahead, avoiding his eye. “Not a man like the ones from my village. But a man like I always thought there might be in the world.”

“Does that mean you trust me?” said Fin.

Eleni furrowed her brow. “I do not trust easily.” She glanced at him. “But of all those I have met of late, I trust you the most.”

“That seems quite sensible,” said Fin.

“If you ever lie to me,” said Eleni. “I will kill you.”

“I don't doubt that for a second,” said Fin. “I'll tell you anything you want. Always.”

“See that you do,” said Eleni. But Fin was sure he saw her mouth twitch into a small smile for the second time that night.

The wolf rejoined them, licking her muzzle. Eleni rested a hand on the beast's head. The wolf's back came up past her hip. “How did you find her?” said Fin. “The wolf.”

“I didn't,” said Eleni. “She found me. When I was a child she would bring me meat. When they started letting me out at night, I was very afraid.” Eleni's voice changed. Fin could almost see her as a mostly-ordinary child afraid of the dark. “There were dark creatures everywhere then. I didn't want to go, but Cosmin locked up the box so I couldn't go back in until dawn.”

Fin swallowed the bile that rose whenever he thought of mortals treating a goddess this way. He was glad they were dead. If they were not, he would gladly kill them himself. “They had no right to treat you that way.”

“They had reasons to hate me,” said Eleni, her voice quiet. She shook her head. “But the wolf protected me at first. Until I was brave enough to kill on my own. She has always been here.”

“You seem to hold your own now,” said Fin.

“Hold my own?” said Eleni.

“You're a good hunter,” said Fin.

“Yes,” said Eleni. “I am.”

Fin heard a gurgling nearby and realized they were approaching the stream. He had lost his bearings in the dark and not realized where they were heading. All his concentration had been focused on talking to Eleni and at the same time avoiding tripping on the enormous tree roots that snaked the ground all through the forest. It seemed to be Eleni's destination, because she kept walking steadily toward the sound.

As they approached, the forest became denser, the air more moist. Still cold, but as though the air around the creek had absorbed all the liquid it could from the rushing water. The creek itself, Fin saw as they arrived on the shore, was gentler than usual, but with cruel, jagged shards of ice clinging to the banks. He shivered just looking at them. The wolf walked out to the middle and lapped at the water that splashed around the base of her neck.

“Will you hold my dress?” said Eleni. Fin looked and felt his eyes widen. Eleni had taken off her garment and carefully folded it. She held it out to him like it was something precious. He imagined it probably was. Her skin glowed even in the darkness. He tore his eyes away from her and focused on her face. She was still holding the dress out to him with a look of irritation on her face.

He took the garment. “Eleni, you shouldn't take your clothes off in front of strange men,” he said. He inwardly cursed the tightness of the trousers Magda had insisted he wear while staying with the Reivers. He missed his kilt.

“You're not that strange,” said Eleni. She turned and stepped into the water. Steam rose from her skin where it met the icy water. She didn't seem to notice and moved to stand next to the wolf. “Besides, you've seen me without clothes before.”

“You were covered in mud and pig blood,” said Fin.

“Well, I am covered in grime,” said Eleni. “I didn't want to get it on my dress.”

Fin looked up, trying to focus his eyes on the canopy. Black against black. Without looking at her he said, “You know, you will have even finer clothes than these when you leave here. These are naught but scraps sewn together.”

“What is the point of thinking of such things?” said Eleni. Fin could hear her splashing. He wanted to look at her, but he was afraid to. Things were becoming increasingly uncomfortable as it was. “The future holds no promises,” she said. “When you hold beauty in your hands, why tarnish it with what beauty another path might hold?”

Fin blinked. “That's very poetic,” he said.

“Something my mother used to say,” she said. “I never understood it.”

When Eleni was dressing Fin turned his back to her. He heard the rustle of fabric as she struggled into her dress. The wolf stood apart, shaking the water from her fur.

“You said the men in your village had good reason to hate you,” said Fin. “What did you mean by that?”

Eleni was silent for a long moment, her hesitation hanging heavy in the air. “Not all the men,” she said. There was something wrong with her voice. There was almost a note of tremulousness in it. “Just Rastin.”

“Why?” said Fin, then shook his head. “You don't have to tell me.”

“I'll tell you,” said Eleni. She was quiet again and Fin began to think she had meant she'd tell him at a different time. But finally she cleared her throat. “I burned his son,” she said.

“Oh,” said Fin. “Well I'm sure it was an accident.”

“It was not an accident,” she said forcefully, making Fin turn to look at her. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. “It wasn't an accident. I did it on purpose. And then they began building the box.”

“What did he do to you?” said Fin quietly. He knew better than to touch her, especially when she was like this. He hadn't seen such emotion from her since they had met. Her nostrils were flared and her wet hair hung around her face like heavy ropes. She was once again the wild woman that he had first seen in the glade.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, looking to the wolf, who in turn turned her gold eyes on Fin. Fin looked back to Eleni. “They said I shouldn't have hurt him,” she said. “That he was just learning to be a man. But I told him that if he tried to hurt me again, I would hurt him back. He laughed at me. But the next time...” she trailed off, staring into the darkness of the forest.

Fin felt he couldn't move. Eleni was opening up to him. She looked at him, and he could feel the energy coming from her. He could feel the grief from where he stood, two arm-lengths away. The grief, and a lot of anger.

“Eleni,” he said. “You were only a child.”

“Yes,” said Eleni, her voice thick. Fin didn't think it was possible for this woman to cry. She was strong and powerful and seemingly impervious to anything the world could throw at her. And yet, here she was. She carried her pain around with her just like everyone else. She had to be strong because she had so much more pain than everyone else. Fin couldn't fathom how much agony she felt. Made a prisoner in her own village, losing her mother, and being assaulted by a young man. It was unacceptable. He wanted to put his arms around her, to accompany her to the West Islands, where she would never be hurt again, to take care of her. She would never allow that. So he would listen, and ensure that no one ever hurt her again. Not that they would have much of a chance against her now.

Fin looked away while she composed herself. After a while she spoke again. “I burned it off. All of it. I took away his manhood. I made him less than a woman. Rastin never forgot.”

Fin swallowed. There was much he wanted to say to her. “I'm glad he's dead,” said Fin.

“Rastin?” said Eleni. “Yes, I am happy as well. His seed was rotten.”

“I mean the son,” said Fin. “What was his name?”

“Tarbus?” said Eleni. “He is not dead.”

Fin frowned. “Was he not in the village when the Reivers came?”

“No one has seen Tarbus for many years,” said Eleni. “He left without telling anyone the following summer. No one saw him go. And he has never returned that I know of.” She spat on the ground.

“So he's probably alive, then,” said Fin. “That's good.”

Eleni looked sharply at him. “What is good about that?”

Fin looked at her, her pale skin luminescent in the pitch darkness. “Because then I have a chance of finding him,” he said. “And killing him myself.”

She stared at him for a moment, then she nodded. “We should go back,” she said.

“You lead, I'll follow,” said Fin. And as Eleni walked by him, her hand brushed against his own.

They walked in comfortable silence, the wolf panting at Eleni's side. They were nearly back to camp when the wolf's ears perked up. The animal stopped, and Eleni stopped with her, as though they were one.

“What is it?” whispered Fin.

“A noise,” said Eleni. “What is that? Badger?”

Fin listened, then smiled. “No,” he said. “That is someone crying.”

“Oh,” said Eleni, looking disappointed.

“Come,” said Fin. “Let's go see.”

They followed the sound of sobs, the trees thinning out in front of them. There was something in the air. Something wet that had never quite left the air since the frigid creek. There was the smell of snow to the air. Even stronger than it had been.

They finally came to the source of the sound. A terrified-looking girl that Fin recognized from the camp.

“Iren,” said Eleni, approaching her. “What are you doing?”

“I'm sorry,” Iren blubbered. “I tried to follow you, but I lost you right away. And now I'm lost and I don't know how to get back.”

“Eleni,” said Fin. Eleni turned to look at him. Fin nodded to the girl. “She's carrying a bow.”

Eleni looked at the girl's hand. She looked back at Fin. “What of it?”

“She can be put to death for even touching a weapon.”

Eleni snorted. “Ridiculous,” she said. “I told her I would help her learn to hunt.”

“You what?” said Fin. He looked at the girl who was gazing at Eleni with rapture. “Eleni, you have seen how these Reivers treat their women. How could you make such a promise?”

“Because she does not wish to get married,” said Eleni. “She should have a right to learn to take care of herself. She should have a choice.”

“Girl,” said Fin. Iren's face turned to him, almost reluctantly. “Do you realize what you're doing? You could be killed or abandoned by your people for this. Is that a choice you're willing to risk?”

“I'd rather die than marry,” Iren said, her voice clear and earnest. “And I'd rather be thrown out of camp knowing how to hunt than starve quietly with the women. Like my mother.”

Eleni looked at Fin. “You see? She wants to learn.”

Fin exhaled through his nose. He narrowed his eyes at the girl, who looked nervous under his gaze. “Fair enough,” he said. “Can you use that bow, or are you just going to hold it all night?”

Iren smiled broadly.

“You know how to shoot?” Eleni asked Fin, sounding dubious.

“Of course I know,” he said. “Everyone knows where I come from. Do you know?”

“No,” said Eleni defensively. “I don't need a weapon. I am a weapon.”

“Well, then I will have two students today,” said Fin. He looked at Iren. “Show me what you can do, girl.”

Chapter Eleven

Magda longed to add wood to the fire. She shivered under her shawl. She had enough power to hide a roaring bonfire. She would be recovering for days, but it would almost be worth it. She would have done it, if not for what she had seen through Mati's eyes. She could still feel the raven, even now. She could feel the wind surging through his feathers like the wings were her own, could see the tops of the roofs over the village. No, she could stand the cold. She would need her strength.

She remembered the days when she didn't have to ration her power. She couldn't even call it power any more, but when she and Danai and Anja had been together, they had been feared by all. Even Odin, the all-father, had feared them. Zeus obeyed their every whim. The fire seemed so long ago. In the path of time, it was an eye-blink. But now, to Magda, it seemed they had been separated thousands of years ago. Danai had disappeared first. Anja later. Then they had lost contact. That had never happened before. Not even one day had passed and Magda couldn't feel Danai. It had taken longer with Anja. Three full moons, maybe, and then she had been lost as well. The last place Magda had felt her was here, in this forest.

She had waited too long to search for her sisters. She kept hoping that if she waited, they would come back to her. They always came back together. But the longer she waited, the weaker she became, until she was nothing but what she was now: A withered old crone who couldn't even stand a little cold.

Anja had been here, Magda knew that now. Eleni was proof of that. In a way, Eleni had been the catalyst that had separated them in the first place. And Fin had not simply stumbled across Eleni on his way to see Magda. Every shaking leaf has meaning, as Anja would say. Anja wasn't always right, but Magda would wager she was right about that.

Zaric, though, Magda thought. Eleni. The new goddess. Anja had tried to tell Magda, had said that they had to stop looking for Danai, had to run away, but Magda had dismissed her. She had tried to tell Magda she was the vessel, but Magda had thought she was just broken down after the disappearance of Danai. But Anja had been trying to tell her about Eleni.

The girl would be ruthless. Magda could see that right away in those pale blue eyes that seemed to look straight through everything. She was also fearless. She proved that when she went up against the Reivers. But was she strong enough? Magda had no doubt of her physical abilities. The girl had survived all these years in a forest filled with the vilest of creatures. If the girl had any weakness, it was her untrained mind. She seemed so vulnerable. She wore a hard armor, but she had the heart of a woman. A mortal. She risked everything with the Reivers in order to feed a few hungry children. That wasn't the way of the gods. Or perhaps it was the new way.

Magda sighed. She needed her sisters. Anja would know what to do. She always did. Magda had to believe that all this was for the best. Being separated from her sisters had been like being cut into pieces, but it would make it all the more sweet when they were finally reunited.

She heard voices coming from the forest. She did her best to straighten her back, to loosen her grip on her shawl. She had to give some semblance of power, even if she no longer possessed any. But she couldn't help looking surprised when the voices emerged into the clearing.

“Iren,” she rasped. “What...”

Eleni and Fin exchanged glances. This was something different. Eleni and an Island god. And a powerful one, though he did his best to hide it. Magda focused on the girl. “Iren, what are you doing?” Her gaze fell down to what the girl held in her hand and Magda's mouth fell open just a little. The child was carrying a weapon. Iren didn't meet her eyes.

Eleni stepped forward, something slung over her shoulder. She heaved it down onto the ground next to the miniscule fire. Magda saw it was a deer, the holes in its neck no doubt from arrows. “She has done more on this night for these people than the men have done their entire lives,” said Eleni.

“She could be killed for doing this,” said Magda.

“She knows the risks,” said Eleni.

“Iren, get to bed before your mother finds you,” said Magda. Iren nodded. “And do something with that weapon before Elek sees you.” Iren ran in the direction of her mother's tent.

“Magda,” said Fin, sitting next to her. “Surely you can't believe that she shouldn't be able to choose between starving and feeding her family. The girl is a natural. She's been practicing in secret for years. And that rule is ridiculous.”

Eleni sat next to Fin and said nothing.

“I'm not arguing with that,” said Magda. “But the girl is not what is important right now. I have been up all night. Something has happened.”

Fin and Eleni both looked expectantly at her. “What have you seen?” said Fin.

Magda looked into the fire. “Three. There were three of them,” she said. She shook her head. “There should only be two, but there were three.”

“Three what?” said Eleni. She was looking intently at Magda.

“The God-eaters,” said Magda. “I know who they are now. Northerners. Children of a god. Terrible and monstrous.”

“Northerners?” said Fin.

“Skoll and Hati,” said Magda. “Wolves, if you can call them that. More powerful than the Reivers by far, and more cunning.”

“The children of Fenrir,” said Fin. He looked at Eleni. “Fenrir is—”

“The son of Loki,” said Eleni. She frowned. “I knew that.”

“Of course you did,” said Magda, giving her a watery smile. “You are a goddess. You probably remember how strong they are, too. Skoll and Hati.”

“They're huge,” said Eleni.

“Surely Odin isn't behind this,” said Fin.

Magda coughed a dry laugh. “I think not. If I am right, Odin is in trouble. And if Odin is in trouble, so are we all.” Magda took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold air. She breathed it out in a cloud of vapor. “They are more cunning than the Reivers,” said Magda, “but they have always had help. Compared to us, they are as dull as beasts.”

“Who is the third, Magda?” said Fin. “Did you see?”

“Can you think of no one that could be behind such a plot? Someone that can fashion himself to look like others?”

“No,” said Fin. “It's not possible. He was imprisoned. It cannot be him.”

“I hope not,” said Magda. “For all our sakes. Because if it is Loki, it has suddenly become the utmost necessity that I find my sisters.”

“Why?” said Eleni.

“Because, child,” said Magda. “Loki cannot be bought. He cannot be reasoned with. The only thing he cares about is chaos. He would have great power since...since your death. The only thing that can stop chaos feeding on chaos is the Fates. My sisters and I could stop this in a moment if we were all together.”

“So he has much to gain in keeping you apart,” said Eleni.

Magda stared at her. “What did you say?” said Magda.

“She has quite a point,” said Fin. “If it is him, and we're not sure if it is.”

“Who else could it be?” said Magda. “He looks exactly like the two brothers. No one else can disguise himself that well. And no one looks like the children of Fenrir. I am sure. It must be him. He is the shape-shifter. He could be anything.” Her eyes fell on the wolf that lay at Eleni's feet. The wolf's golden eyes stared at Magda, as if listening intently. “Loki could be that wolf. He could be either of you. I could be Loki and you would never know.”

“What do they want?” said Fin. “Why are they in the forest?”

Magda looked at Eleni again. “They are not in the forest,” she said. “They are at Eleni's old village.” Magda felt an indiscernible shiver travel through their small group, huddled deep in conversation.

After what felt like a long time, Fin spoke. “They've come for Eleni,” he said.

“Could be,” said Magda. “But you would be a nice prize as well, Alaunus.”

Eleni had straightened and was exchanging a look with the wolf that Magda didn't understand. There was something wrong about that wolf. Magda didn't think it was Loki. After all, she had just seen him through the raven's eye. Even Loki couldn't travel that fast. But that wolf...she just couldn't put her finger on it.

“Let me go,” said Eleni.

“Absolutely not,” said Magda. “Nothing would give them more pleasure. You are strong for a new god, Eleni, but you are still a new god. Untrained, undeveloped. You don't even understand everything that you have inside you. You may be strong enough to kill Skoll and Hati on your own. Maybe. But Loki will be very powerful.”

“Chaos,” said Fin quietly.

“The world has crumbled,” said Magda nodding. “We can build it again, make no mistake. We can always start again. But nothing is certain anymore. Nothing makes sense. Loki will feed on that. And if he really is taking the essence of the gods...” Magda trailed off. She looked from Eleni to Fin. “I do not know what to do,” she said, her ancient eyes watering. “For the first time in all of existence, I am lost. I need my sisters. I have no solutions.”

There was a buzzing at Eleni's throat and something like a spark. Eleni put her hand to the bauble and felt the heat of it, hotter than her own skin. After a moment it stopped. Magda and Fin stared at her.

“I believe,” said Magda slowly, “that necklace will keep you hidden.” Magda stood and stared at Eleni's neck. “It is strong magic, I can feel it.” Magda's eyes widened as she looked up at Eleni's face. “My sister did not leave you a memento, Eleni. It is meant to keep you safe. You must use it.”

“What do you mean?” said Fin, rising and looking at the small lump under the collar of Eleni's dress. It glowed like a star. Eleni took a step back, frowning in confusion. “Use it how?” Fin asked Magda.

“She must flee,” said Magda. “Over the mountains. There is no other way.”

“I am no coward,” said Eleni. “I will stay and fight.”

“No, you are not a coward,” said Magda. “But if you stay, you are a fool. These monsters have come for you. For Zaric.”

“Zaric is dead,” said Eleni forcefully. She narrowed her eyes at Magda. “I'm not him. Why should they come for me?”

“Because you have his power,” said Fin slowly. “And you are young. You won't fight as potently as the old gods.”

“I fight just as well as any god,” said Eleni. “I have been killing dark creatures since I was a girl. How strong could they be? Even the Reivers fear me.”

“These three are not Reivers,” said Fin, and his voice was hard. Both women turned to look at him. “Everything I had, they took from me. They took my whole family. We are not new gods. We are powerful island gods. We had shrines all over the West. My family was worshiped and loved. That's power, to be loved. And yet, they were killed all at once. They were fighting together and they died. Do you know how significant that is, Eleni?” He was looking right into Eleni's pale eyes, and Magda almost felt as if she were intruding on something private.

“No,” said Eleni. She was trying to be bold, but Magda could see she was slightly out of breath.

“My family had power,” said Fin. “And these three took it. Just took it. It's an abomination. To take a god's power is the single greatest atrocity in the known world. No matter how terrible you deem that god to be, you never take their power. Power is the soul. It must always be allowed to go. Sometimes they come back just as bad. But sometimes...” Fin paused, suddenly at a loss. Magda could see his throat muscles working, trying to get the words out. “Sometimes they come back better than before. But you have to let it happen. There must be balance.”

“He's right,” said Magda. Fin and Eleni started when she spoke. They both looked at her.

“Fine,” said Eleni. “I won't try to fight them on my own. But what else can we do?”

“We can get you out of here,” said Fin. “Take you over the mountains and away from god-eaters, away from Reivers, away from everything.”

Eleni clenched her jaw. She looked at Magda. “You aren't even sure what this necklace does. Who can say it won't stop working when I leave here? I can do what you think is best. But will it work? Will they stop looking for me if I...run?” she said, spitting the last word with disgust. ”

“No,” said Magda. “I think not.”

Eleni looked back to Fin. “Then I won't run,” she said. “Not ever.”

Magda smiled to herself. At least some things never changed. Zaric would have said the same. “We have a small army,” said Magda. “A pitiful army, yes. But men that love blood. Men that would die for Eleni. Men that would rather die in violence than go back to their starving children as walking wounded. At least they have that in common with the Northerners. If there were a full moon, it would be easy. But they will fight just as boldly as men.” Magda frowned into her hands. “There are others, Alaunus. I could call them. They would come.” She looked up into Fin's bearded face, his eyes suddenly alert and wary. “They would come without question. There is no reason you should fight this alone.”

“There is reason,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “You know the reasons. If we go in alone, we have a chance of winning. If we lose, only two gods lose their souls on this day. To send in an army of gods when we know not the power Loki possesses...that is madness.”

Magda raised an eyebrow at him. “I do not wish to be contrary,” she said, “but your family was quite strong. If he defeated them, do you not think it would be wise to go in greater numbers?”

“I do not think it wise to send a dozen gods to the slaughter,” said Fin, his eyes narrowed. “Do not cloud this task with your own desires, Magda. Everyone knows what you seek.”

“I would not risk the lives of gods for my own wishes,” said Magda. “You had best remember who you are speaking to, Alaunus. If I had my sisters with me...”

“Then you would not sully your hands with such matters,” said Fin.

Magda looked away, unable to argue. He was right. This would never happen if Magda had her sisters. They would cut Loki down in an instant were they together.

“Just let us find what we are dealing with, Magda,” said Fin, his voice gentler. “We all know what Eleni means to you. She is another clue to lead you to Anja. But she is her own. You cannot control things. Not now. Not like this.”

“What are you saying?” said Eleni, looking confused. She looked at Magda. “What does he mean?”

Magda sighed, tearing her eyes from Fin and looking at Eleni. “You are my blood,” she said. “Whether anyone recognizes that or not. Your mother was your mother. It has not happened before, but that doesn't mean it cannot be. I only worry about your safety.” Fin snorted and looked away. “I will not call them, Alaunus,” she said. “You have my word.”

Fin studied her for a moment, then nodded curtly. “Good. I still think Eleni should flee.”

“You would not flee,” said Eleni.

“No,” said Fin. “But I'm afraid for you.”

“What should we do?” said Eleni, looking at Magda. “Do we wait for them to come?”

“There are the women and children to consider,” said Fin. “The snow is low in the mountains. If they leave here, they would just freeze to death in their travels. Or worse. Strange creatures roam the mountains.”

“No,” said Magda. “They cannot leave here. Not now. You will have to meet the enemy.”

“And if they are waiting for us?” said Fin. “What if it is a trap?”

“If you know of another way, I would like to hear it,” said Magda.

“What will you tell the Reivers?” said Fin.

“I will tell them Eleni needs them to fight,” said Magda. “As do I. Now you two go get some sleep before it is time to leave. I will handle the Reivers.”

Magda watched them go, Eleni disappearing into her tent and Fin lingering just a moment too long, watching the place where she disappeared. There was a movement near the trees and the old woman turned to look. Two golden orbs looked back at her before the wolf turned and ran into the forest. Magda blinked, then her eyes traveled up. The tips of the first rays of morning sun appeared behind the mountains.

The camp was beginning to stir. Women were emerging from tents, shivering in the morning air. Elek's head popped out of his tent followed by his hulking body, bent low to clear the low entry. He stretched and scratched his black beard. He was shirtless and wore only trousers and boots. He didn't appear to be affected by the cold. He saw her looking at him and walked over, his long arms swinging at his sides.

“Magda,” he said, nodding to her. “Been up all night?”

“Yes,” she said. She was so weary it was hard to even get the words out. She knew the Reivers would join them with no hesitation. With glee, even. But she also suspected how it was going to end. They would be lucky if even a few survived. She wasn't happy with what she was about to do, but it had to be done. It was hypocritical of her to worry about the women and children after chiding Eleni for doing the same. It was unfortunate. These women had led joyless lives. Losing their husbands could destroy them. But Magda had to stop the trickster. A world without gods was no world to live in. And Loki seemed to be on a path that would allow him to take down gods with greater and greater power.

Elek, seeming to see through her, narrowed his eyes. He crouched down beside her. “What is it, Grandmother?” he said. “Something has happened, yes?”

“They're here,” said Magda.

It started to snow.

Chapter Twelve

Loki stepped out of the rancid-smelling hut and breathed the cold air deep into his lungs. He felt the snow fall onto his face, melting immediately upon contact. He loved the snow. It reminded him of home. It had been so long since he'd been home. It would not be much longer, he thought.

There was a crash and snarling inside the hut and he sighed. It was difficult for him to remember that these beasts were his blood. Had he been free when Fenrir fathered them, he would have intervened in the way they were raised. Beasts like this, with their strength and bloodlust, had to be trained. They could have been the most powerful fighters in the world. But they had their father's shortsighted mind. They only cared about tearing and ripping and the small doses that Perun had been doling out to them. If only they knew they had been getting a few drops of what Perun could give them. The foolish god used the rest for himself when they were dazed in the snow. Loki had been watching.

It would be a happy thing when he did to the lightning god what Perun had been paying Loki's grandchildren to do. Perun was getting old. He saw Zaric everywhere he looked. In the end, Loki would make Perun tell him why he was so desperate to kill the fire god once and for all. It made no sense. It had always vexed Loki. Perun had killed Zaric once, of course, but that was because the bone horn had been bestowed on him.

Loki touched the heavy pouch at his waist. It wasn't the horn, but the symbols that carried the power. . The symbols, carved over a century old, so old they had nearly been worn away. All this had been explained to Loki when he had been freed from his prison, from the torture that Odin had devised just for him. So many seasons, made to feel even longer because they had cut out his wife's tongue. She couldn't speak and when she did, it came out garbled and inexact. The burning poison on his face had been nothing compared to the lack of stimulation. He had talked to himself for a hundred winters. His sweet wife, Sigyn, had gone slowly mad, at first from infection and pain, and later from the banality of it all. Loki ground his teeth when he thought of it. She never should have died.

The pounding in his head brought him back around from his rage. Not now, said a voice in his head. Odin will pay later.

Loki nodded to himself. When he was strong enough he would take Odin. He would have Odin's essence in the end. He would drink it from the horn like the finest mead. All of it had been Odin's fault, even Sigyn's suicide. She had shoved her own face into the mouth of the snake. And then he had felt the now-familiar pounding. And the voice. And then he had been free. He had held her body in his arms for three days before he buried her.

There was a crash of furniture breaking in the hut behind him. Loki could feel the structure shake as the brothers fought inside. Loki sighed and stepped away from the house. The snow wasn't sticking yet, and he surveyed the oddly uneven, blackened areas in the town where the structures had burned down. So much burned completely that it was easier to see what hadn't been cremated. Not much was left. A few structures in one corner, parts of houses here and there that had miraculously survived the flames, a few huts near the entrance. He turned to the bent iron gate through which they had entered. Loki could still feel the tingle of power in the air. Something potent had been here. He inhaled the acrid smell of stale burnt wood. It was mingled with something else, something only Loki could have detected. The god of chaos smiled and licked his lips. It was hate.

“Isn't that interesting?” he said softly into the falling snow, his breath filling his vision with fog for barely a moment before dissipating.

He had met Zaric a few times in the old days. The old god had been full of himself. Arrogant and reserved with, what Loki gleefully recalled, a bit of insanity in his eyes. All the gods here thirsted for power. They were barbaric and heavy-handed, not as cunning as those in the North. But what he felt here was different. A thirst for power was one thing, but pure hate was something else altogether. For his own reasons, he had agreed with this joke of a lightning god that he would find Zaric, but now he was growing genuinely curious. In what form had the fire god been reborn?

Loki walked through the bent gate. He had spotted the iron box on their way in, but he had been distracted with searching for Zaric in the dark. Now that it was growing lighter, he could see it more clearly. He walked around it, feeling his bare feet crunch on the frozen ground, running his finger along its edge. It was smaller than the shelter that his hounds slept in, in the old days. An iron bar across the front had been wrapped around itself, presumably to keep whatever had been inside from escaping. The top half of the door looked as though it had been melted to create an opening. It was not big enough for a man, though. Perhaps a child.

Loki peeked his head in and caught his breath. The tingling of power made his face numb like an invisible slap. He blinked into the darkness, letting his eyes adjust. Even with the enormous hole in the door, the darkness in the box seemed impenetrable. After a moment, though, he could make out a cot, a blanket, a small pile of bones. It was a prison. Loki frowned. A prison for a god, he realized. It was the only way to explain the intensity of power that he could feel. But how? How had a god been kept here? Even at his weakest he could have broken this box open like an egg if he chose. He remembered his wife. Perhaps the new Zaric had a wife, too. Perhaps he was protecting her. He stepped away, looking at the ground. The snow wasn't sticking yet, though it would be soon. There were blackened footprints on the ground leading into the village. Small footprints. So small. He put his own foot next to one, and found it was double the footprints. Small and delicate they were, but not as small as a child.

Zaric had come back as a woman, then. Interesting, but not unheard of.

Loki walked to the center of the pitiful village. He looked around at the seared earth, the remains of the huts miniscule against the iron gate that stretched nearly as high as the ancient trees beyond. Loki breathed in. He could feel the destruction, it quickened his blood. He crouched down and touched the crumbling, charred wood that had been the base of a hut. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Hate was here, like he had felt before, outside the village. But more than that, pain. And behind that, the thing that was behind every pain: love. Something was wrong. This was not the god that Loki had known. Zaric had changed, even beyond the change from man to woman. Loki stood up, frowning up into the falling snow. Zaric was strong, but he had been as dull as his lightning-wielding brother. No excitement, no spirit. Nothing to draw a god like Loki. But this. This was chaos. This caliber of destruction was raw, untempered by any intrusion of training or control. And coupled with this degree of sheer, unadulterated passion, this degree of power took his breath away. Loki licked his lips.

It was delicious.

There was a sudden crash behind him, and the sound of splintering wood and snarling and yipping followed.

“Enough,” he said, the words muffled as the snow fell more heavily. A thin layer of white was sticking to the burned village now. The brothers had ceased their fighting at his words. Loki turned to look at them. They averted their eyes, afraid to look upon him in his true form. Loki sighed.

“Have it your way,” he said. He felt the hair follicles expand, like a limb gone to sleep. The prickling was right on the edge of a pain and an itch. He felt the fur cover first his feet, then crawl up his legs, and then spread to the rest of his body. His spine stretched, making him groan, and he felt his face bubbling with the transformation, before his nose and chin expanded out, the bones shifting and changing and stretching. His heart hammered as it swelled and extra ribs grew where none were needed before. When it was over, Loki breathed a cloud into the air.

“He's not here,” said Skoll, finally meeting Loki's eyes. “The fire god.”

“It would appear,” said Loki, his voice grating against itself in its changed form, “that he is a she.”

“A woman?” said Hati.

“A goddess,” said Loki. “You'd best remember that. As strong as I've made you, she will be stronger.”

“We will rip her apart and eat her heart,” said Skoll, his eyes glinting.

“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” said Loki. “And do not forget, Zaric is not the only one we seek.”

“When do we leave?” said Hati, scratching his chest with his claws extended.

“We don't,” said Loki. “We wait.”

“Waiting is for cowards,” growled Skoll.

Loki crouched and trailed a finger through the thin layer of snow on the ground. It was good snow. He was so far away from home, but he would return soon. It was so close he could taste it. He licked his teeth, long and sharp and savage. The air was thick with winter, and promise, and darkness.

“Did you see the white raven before? It flew over our heads right before we arrived here.” The two shook their heads dully. “It isn't an ordinary bird. I've seen it before, on several occasions. The crone's raven. And I am almost positive that this new Zaric is with her. It is too much a coincidence for a Fate to be in the same wood as the one we seek. Although, wouldn't that be the most fantastic coincidence?”

The brothers looked at him, uncomprehending.

“We wait,” said Loki. “Let them come to us, cold and shivering and exhausted from travel. We will be rested and ready for the fight.”

“And if there are others?” said Skoll. “This place reeks of Reivers.”

“Reivers are the least of our worries,” said Loki. The thought gave him a chilling thrill. He had so missed this world. The world he had risen into was a great deal more fascinating than the one he had left for his prison. Loki looked at Skoll. “But no matter. Whatever comes will feast in Valhalla by dawn,” he said. “Or wherever these barbarians go after they've been slaughtered.”

Chapter Thirteen

Eleni awoke to shouting. She sat up in her cot and swung her legs out, rising quickly and unsteadily. Hastily shrugging into her dress, she became acutely aware that she wasn't alone.

“They're waiting for you, you know,” said Iren, rising from a crouch.

“How long have you been there?” demanded Eleni. The girl flinched. Eleni was angrier at herself for not waking, even amid the yelling from outside and an intruder inside. She could not let herself become lax.

“Long enough,” said Iren, standing up straight. She looked steady, but Eleni could feel her heart quicken, could smell the bitter sweat that came with fear. Iren pointed a shaky finger at Eleni's neck. “It glows brighter when you sleep, did you know?” she said.

Eleni touched the hard circle at her throat. It felt hot, even to her touch. “Magda thinks it keeps us hidden,” said Eleni. “A protection.”

“Could it save us?” said Iren, her shoulders sagging again, her show of bravery easing back into a frightened young girl. “They are saying such things. About what is out there.”

“It might,” said Eleni. “But I am no coward.”

“But they're going to kill you, aren't they?” said Iren tearfully. “Like the others. They were gods, too, and they just took them like they were nothing.”

“I cannot think of such things,” said Eleni.

“But I must,” said Iren, almost in a whisper. “I can't go back to the way things were. You've showed me how life can be. I can hold my own bow, I can hunt, I can take care of myself. What will happen if you are killed by these vile creatures? I cannot get married. Not any more.” Tears fell down her face as she looked at Eleni pleadingly. “Please,” she said. “I cannot go back.”

Eleni frowned in confusion. “Then do not,” she said.

“Do not what?” said Iren.

“Do not go back,” said Eleni. “You have the skills you need to leave this place. Why should you live under the rule of a man who will not care for you? It is best to be alone.”

“You're not alone,” said Iren. She flinched away from Eleni.

Eleni froze and stared at the girl. Finally she shook her head. “It is not the same. I'm not...” she couldn't finish the sentence. She straightened her dress and began to fasten the ties. “It is not the same,” she repeated. “I only stay so I can find my mother.”

“So you wouldn't bother with Grandmother if you were on your own?” said Iren. “With Fin?”

Eleni took a step toward the girl until her face was a breath away. She could feel Iren quivering in her presence. She could feel her terror. But the girl still stood, not shrinking away, looking wide-eyed at Eleni.

“I do not know what you wish me to do,” said Eleni tautly. “There is no other way.”

“You could run,” said Iren. “We could leave here, all of us. We could find another place, away from these horrible woods.”

“If they are searching for me, they will find me again,” said Eleni. She turned from the girl and finished tying her dress. “A bauble cannot protect me forever. And I would not wish it to.”

“Then let me come with you,” said Iren. Eleni turned quickly to look at her. “Please,” said Iren. “I could help. You've seen how skilled I am with a bow.”

Eleni narrowed her eyes at the child. “Never forget all the choices you have,” said Eleni. “You can stay and be a wife, you can leave and be yourself. You can go wherever you like, see whatever you want to see.”

“But you're a goddess,” said Iren softly, her voice quavering. She shrank back from Eleni now. “You can do whatever you please.”

“It would please me to have had a choice,” said Eleni. “This talking is pointless. If you go, you could be killed. Take from that what you will. Your will is your own.” She left the tent, ducking through the flap and headed toward the noise outside.

It had snowed. The world had changed to something far more glorious than when Eleni had gone to sleep. It covered her tent in a thick blanket, along with all the other dwellings. Eleni hiked up her skirt and walked through the fresh drifts. She could tell it was cold, but it didn't bother her. She felt the solidity of the snow turn liquid as it met the heat of her bare feet. When she stepped down she could feel the ground beneath the snow. It was still coming down, big puffs of snowflakes falling from a gray sky.

Eleni looked up to see Fin watching a crowd that had gathered around the hearth at the center of the encampment. His face was stony as she stood next to him. His arms were crossed over his chest and she could see a muscle working in his jaw.

“What is happening?” she said.

“Magda,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “Again.”

“Magda what?” said Eleni.

Fin looked down at her. His eyes were a blazing green shooting out from his face. Eleni could feel his anger. It pushed on her like a fist. She caught her breath.

“You would not understand, Eleni,” said Fin, his voice hard. “But you are right not to trust anyone. Magda has called the Carpathian gods. They are coming.”

Eleni looked to see that the center of the crowd was made up of the men of the village. She saw Elek, head and shoulders above the rest, with a wide smile on his face. The men appeared to be celebrating. They had their falxes raised over their heads and were repeating a chant. In a larger circle that seemed to passively circle the tighter circle of men, stood the women. Some huddled together, their shoulders moving in unison. Eleni realized they were crying. Not all of them, though. Some simply stood and watched, their eyes emotionless. A few held small children or babies. The older children were running around the encampment, most of them play-fighting. A few had sticks and were chasing each other with mock-crazed expressions on their faces. Magda moved among the women, giving them a pat here, a word of encouragement there.

Eleni looked up at Fin, who was glaring in Magda's direction. “I do not understand any of this,” she said. “I don't know what this means.”

“It means,” said Fin, without looking at her, “that Magda deems her own desires to be greater than the very lives of gods. She may as well be eating out of Loki's hand.” He turned suddenly and walked into the forest, leaving Eleni standing there.

Magda spotted her and moved toward her.

“Eat now, because it's time you went,” said Magda.

“What have you done?” said Eleni. “Why is Fin so angry?”

“I did what had to be done,” said Magda. “I cannot let the wishes of one god disrupt what must be done.”

“I thought you wanted me to flee,” said Eleni. “I thought fighting Loki was stupid, that I was marching to my death. What's changed?”

“Death is possible,” said Magda. “But Loki is killing gods, and if anyone can stop him it's you. I have to consider the fact that I may not find my sisters in time. The gods may have to save themselves.”

“But why send all of us at once?” said Eleni.

“Because I will not send you unprepared,” said Magda. “I cannot force you not to go, but I can send others to assist you. You are important, Eleni, I can feel it. And if you go, I will call your family to help you. They are your family, don't forget.”

“I don't understand,” said Eleni, irritated. “All I know is hunting and fighting and fire. I do not know about gods or Fates or the way of things. I do not know how the families of gods work. I do not pretend to know. But I do not trust words. Fin trusts words, and he trusted in your words. You promised you would not do this thing.”

“Fin doesn't know the way things must be done,” said Magda. “He does not know the feeling when the world rests on your shoulders. None of you could know what is to come.”

“I recall that you said you did not know what was to come either,” said Eleni.

Magda stared at her for a moment. “Your feelings are clouding your judgment, Eleni. If I do not find Anja, it will be disastrous. We must be Three again.”

“I have no feelings in the matter,” said Eleni. “But I know lies when I see them. I want my mother more than you'll ever know. I want to know why she left, where she went, why she left me in that village. And I do not know why you wish to keep me alive so badly when you hardly know me. But I do know that lies are ugly things. I have been lied to my whole life. Lie after lie after lie. Even my own mother. Maybe your way is best and Fin is wrong. But the way you're doing it is ugly. You are just like the humans in the village. You only want to get your way.”

Eleni turned and headed into the forest where Fin had gone, leaving Magda staring behind her.

The snow had penetrated the canopy and everything was frosted in sparkling white. Eleni looked around for Fin's footprints, but didn't find any. She scanned the trees, trying to feel for his presence, before recalling that he didn't really have one. She did feel something, but it was strange. Eleni frowned. There was something out here, but it didn't feel like a god. It wasn't a dark creature, either. Eleni walked toward the direction of the presence warily.

She felt the cold on the soles of her feet, felt the soft snow give way and turn to water when it touched her skin. Her feet made small hissing noises as she walked, the snow evaporating into little trails of steam in the air. Steam was rising off of her body, too, in the cold air. She balled up her fist and felt the fire encompass her hand as she went. Eleni didn't like surprises, and odd presences in the forest never ended well. She remembered the blue light that had nearly killed her, and her chest ached where it had burrowed into her body.

The presence felt stronger with each step. She was close. The air felt thicker around her and, as she went further into the wood, she started to feel as though she were walking through honey. It took more and more effort to take each step. It had been stupid of her to run off into the forest. After all of Magda and Fin's warnings, she had still been dubious that Loki could hurt her.

But if Loki was out here, if he was the one causing this, Eleni didn't know how she was going to defend herself. She'd had a few flashing, forgotten memories of Loki. A tall, thin man with hair the color of the stars and violet, dancing eyes. Eleni knew that he was dangerous, but in Zaric's memories – for she was sure now this is what her flashes of knowledge were – he had been a nuisance; a god to avoid, if possible, but no real threat to the Carpathians. Magda seemed to think that with the current state of the world, Loki had finally come into power. Eleni didn't pretend to understand any of it, but as she felt the flame extinguish in her hand, she understood the danger.

With effort she raised her hand in front of her face. Her flame had gone out. She tried to bring it forth again, but all she could manage was a thin tongue of smoke that rose above her, then dissipated. Eleni tried to turn, to look behind her, to run away, but she found she could look no way but ahead. She was being propelled forward by some force that she didn't recognize.

After what seemed like an eternity, just when her lungs felt like they were about to explode, Eleni was pushed through the force and could at last breathe the thin cool air again. She had stumbled through the thickness and come out onto a strange, round field, the grass brown and dead. There was a single burned tree right in the middle, its branches charred and black. Eleni could see the forest around the circle, but it looked strange, as though it were at the bottom of a lake. It shimmered and bent the light all around her. She couldn't feel the fire in her at all. A sharp panic expanded in her belly. There were no sounds here. No birds or the everyday skittering of the forest. No snow either, she realized. She looked around, her eyes narrowed, searching for anything to explain why she was here. Was this to be her new prison? She preferred the metal box.

“I have waited a very long time to meet you, goddess of fire,” said a woman's high nasally voice. Eleni looked for the source of it. She approached the burned tree slowly, her heart beating in her throat. “There is no need to be frightened,” said the voice. “Your powers will be returned to you when you leave this place.” Eleni was sure it was coming from the black, lumpy remains of what must have been a very large tree before it had been burned. Eleni stopped as one of the lumps moved. She squinted through the gloom. She was close enough to see the dullness of the charred bark and to smell the soot. She took a few more steps.

The lump was a creature, but what kind of creature she had no idea. It was black, as black as the tree it rested in, and appeared to be covered in feathers, or something that resembled feathers. It had its head under a great dark wing that was as wide as Eleni was tall.

“What are you?” Eleni said. The panic at having no power had nearly disappeared and been replaced by curiosity. The creature seemed to shift its weight at her words. It flexed its great, clawed talons on the branch it held fast to. Slowly it moved its head, raising its face to look down at Eleni. Eleni's eyes widened when she saw it.

It had hair on its head, like a person. Shaggy, black hair, matted in some places, hanging in tendrils in others. One strand swayed near the creature's jaw, framing a pale face, almost human, with a beak-like nose and black, beady eyes. Full, pink lips parted into what resembled a smile to show brown, jagged teeth, chipped and broken into points. It was female, Eleni could see that, but she had never seen anything like her. The bird woman fanned her enormous wings and Eleni felt hot, dry air against her face. She could make out two enormous breasts beneath the feathers, above a round body.

“You have not heard of me,” it said. “What difference does it make what I am called?”

“No difference,” said Eleni. “I only wish to know what to call you.”

The bird woman's head never stood still. It twitched this way and that, like the small, yellow birds that sat in the lower tree branches and watched Eleni in the springtime. “I am called the Sirin. If you were a mortal I would eat you, though you hardly look more than a mouthful.” The Sirin flicked a blackish-purple tongue over her chipped and broken teeth.

“And since I am not a mortal?”

The Sirin seemed to regard her for a moment. “You interest me, little fire wielder. As you interest many.”

“I do not see the reason for that,” said Eleni, “but I am glad you will not eat me.”

“The fact that you do not see the reason is the precise reason others find interest in you.”

“You speak in riddles,” said Eleni. “Talk sense to me. Why have you brought me to this place?”

“You are the thread that ties the world together. You must make the Fates Three once more.” The Sirin bobbed her ugly head. “The Fates will unravel that which needs unraveling.”

Eleni shook her head. “I already seek Anja.”

“Not enough! Not enough!” shrieked the Sirin, making Eleni jump. “You were hard when he found you. Hard and good and disbelieving. You grow softer every day. You walk like a girl with the god that brings balance. Soft, soft, soft. No good.”

“What would you have me do?” said Eleni, her voice laced with irritation. “All I want is to find my mother. Then I can go off, away from all this.”

“Love will try to unnerve you on your journey,” said the Sirin. “You must wrap your heart in iron. The people will fear you, and their fear will also make them love you. The Sudices will change the order of fate for you. You must not let them. Your own little god will try to win you with love he feels you deserve. You must fight it.”

“What is wrong with love?” said Eleni, suddenly angry. “Why should I not have love?”

“Because the love you don't give will break the world. And even the Fates could perish.”

“Magda?” said Eleni. “My mother Anja?”

“She is not your mother. She is a vessel.”

“I thought they couldn't die.”

“They cannot die, so long as some small part of this world remains intact. But what if it were all to die? Even the Fates have their own threads.”

“How?” said Eleni.

“Water replenishes. Water refreshes. Water drowns.”

“A flood?” said Eleni.

“Not a flood,” said the Sirin. She lowered her head until her nose was a hand's width from Eleni's. “Ragnarok.”

“Ragnarok?” said Eleni. “What is that?”

“You will see, child.” The Sirin sat back up. “Heed my words. Close yourself off. There will be plenty of time for love when they are Three again. But for now, you must be alone. Let them protect you if they wish it, let the mortals love you to give you strength. But you must not weaken. Or all you love will be washed away. To float, to float, to float.” She ducked her head and, raising her wing once more, tucked her head underneath and wrapped herself up.

“Wait,” said Eleni. “How do I find them? How do I stop it?” But she felt herself being pulled backward. The Sirin had become a lump on the tree once more. Eleni tried to wriggle out of the force pulling her away, but it was no use. Her heels dug in the dry earth, making two small trenches in the ground. And then she was being forced through the thickness again. She allowed herself to be pulled out of the circle and as she blinked, the tree and the clearing disappeared, replaced by living trees and snow. Eleni blinked in the brightness and wondered if what she had just seen had been real.

Chapter Fourteen

Fin walked heavily through the forest. He felt like kicking something, but stopped himself. What good would it do? He was the bringer of balance, he who restores the world. If he kicked a tree he would just have to restore it again. The thought made him feel even more frustrated. He stopped and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly, taking in the scent of the evergreens mingled with the fresh, frigid smell of falling snow.

Magda had had no right to call the gods. It should have been Fin and only Fin. He wanted to watch the life fade from the eyes of the evil creatures that had taken his family. They would never return; Loki had seen to that. If it really was Loki.

His chest hurt and felt hollow at the same time whenever he thought of them. His sisters and brother. He pressed his palms to his eyes. The worst part was that, deep inside, he knew Magda was right. He couldn't let his feelings get in the way of actually stopping this madness. It was very likely that Magda had saved Eleni's life by going behind Fin's back. Fin exhaled through his nose and looked toward the heavens. The snow was trickling down through the canopy.

Eleni. He hardly knew what to make of her. It had been a long time since he had held even a mild interest in another god. Not counting his family, most gods tended to be arrogant and self-centered. She was different. She was like an animal and a god and a mortal all at once. There was also something innocent about her that Fin couldn't quite put his finger on. Everything was new to her, and seeing that newness through her eyes had given him a fresh sense of awe for the world. Even through his grief, she made him forget his sadness.

It was hard to believe that she was Zaric. She was so different. It was not unknown for a god to come back as a different gender, and of course they often came back with different personalities, but absolutely everything about Eleni was changed from Zaric. Her stature, her hair, her coloring. Physically she looked like Anja, Magda's sister. Fin didn't think Eleni knew just how extraordinary that was. And the link between vessel and god was usually chilly at best. But Eleni seemed to feel an overwhelming sense of love for Anja, and from what she had told him, Anja shared the same feelings. Perhaps the reason for the changes was the result of the love felt between a mother and daughter, which was highly unusual for a vessel and goddess.

Fin shook his head. He didn't know if what he was thinking was truly possible, or if his grief was making him soft. It was a ridiculous thought. Love didn't create things, it took them away. Love meant giving away part of yourself. And when that person was gone, the part that you gave them was also gone. Forever. Fin spat bitterly on the ground. A small leaf pushed its way through his spittle. It became a vine and crawled its way up a nearby sapling. Fin looked at it for a long time.

There was no satisfaction in revenge, he knew that. He didn't want to think about it, but he knew. He shook his head. It was no good storming off when there was an enemy to focus on. He wouldn't be able to fight Loki on his own any more than Eleni could. He advised her not to be stupid and rush off on her own. He needed to take his own advice.

Fin stood up. He would go back and apologize if he had to. Even if it made him sick to his stomach to do it. He took a step back the way he had come, but stopped and turned slowly. There was something nearby. He could feel it. He turned around and scanned through the trees. He took a step in the direction that the presence was strongest.

“Fin,” said a voice into his ear.

Fin jumped and felt his feet leave the ground. Eleni stood in front of him, that almost-smile on her face. He found himself sitting on the ground and narrowed his eyes at her.

“You cannot always be the one that sneaks up on people,” said Eleni, her voice almost innocent.

Fin stood up and brushed himself off. “What are you doing out here?” he said.

“I came looking for you,” she said, watching him. “But I got distracted.”

“Distracted?” said Fin irritably. “What does that mean?”

“There was a...bird-woman,” said Eleni. She lowered her eyes.

“What?” he said. He realized she looked exhausted. Her usually pale face was chalky and without color, her hair had come out of its thick braid and hung in curling ropes around her, and her shoulders were hunched. “Eleni, look at me. What's happened?”

She raised her pale blue eyes to him and for a moment Fin thought he would drown in their sadness.

“Did you know that someone is watching you?” she said.

“What?”

“Over there, in the briars.” She nodded past him to an overgrown thicket. “A mortal, I think. He smells of smoke.”

Fin turned to look behind him. The bushes rustled as Fin took a step toward them. A figure emerged, popping up so quickly it was almost as if he had appeared there magically. Eleni stepped up next to Fin and he realized she had a ball of flame that she was fiddling with in her hand. It spun like a top, her fingers moving lazily to keep it going, as though playing with a child's ball.

“Who are you?” said Eleni.

The figure was wearing a cowled cloak made of a rough, brown fabric, with a band of red sewn around the hem in a pattern that Fin couldn't quite make out. The figure stood very still, face shadowed by a hood that hung low over the person's face. Instead of running, as Fin would have expected any mortal to do, the figure stepped out of the brambles and walked slowly toward the two of them.

Fin looked at Eleni. She still held the fire in her hand and was regarding the robed figure with mild interest.

“That is quite far enough,” said Fin. The figure halted and raised hands to lower the hood. An old man stood before them, his dark eyes trained on Eleni. He had a long, grizzled white beard and deep lines that spread from his eyes and cheeks like spiderwebs.

“You are here for me,” said Eleni. Fin frowned and looked at her. He looked back at the man. He realized that the red that was sewn to the hem of the man's robe was fabric in the shape of flames.

“It's you,” the man whispered. He was breathing as though he had been running, his breath rasping in the back of his throat in a dull wheeze. “I've found you.”

“Who are you?” said Eleni.

“I am Cotiso of the Keepers of the Flame. I am a priest. We have waited many years for your return.”

“Why?” said Eleni.

“They are worshipers,” said Fin. “A cult that prays to you and offers sacrifices.”

“I make fire,” said Eleni. “I cause burning and destruction and despair. Why would you worship a god like that?” Eleni brought a hand to her chest, grimacing. Her fingers sparked.

“With destruction comes rebirth,” said Cotiso, a small smile on his lips. “There are many that will rejoice at your rebirth.” He bowed his head. “If you will allow me, I will bring them to you.”

“Many?” said Fin. “How many?” Eleni looked at him quizzically.

Cotiso did not look away from Eleni. “There are nearly two hundred of us, and our numbers grow with each moon.”

“Why do they grow?” said Eleni, through clenched teeth. Fin frowned at her, but after a moment she seemed to relax and took her hand from her chest once more.

Cotiso clasped his hands in front of himself. “The fire, my goddess. The greatest fire that ever was. The fever that burned through the sickness of the world. The stories say that you were displeased with us. Not enough people worshiping you, praising your name. So now they seek us out. Lest you should deem us unworthy again.”

Eleni shook her head. “But, I–”

“How right you are,” Fin interrupted. Eleni glared at him. “The reincarnation of Zaric would be most displeased if she is not raised on high.”

“What are you doing?” said Eleni.

“You are about to fight a very powerful god,” Fin said out of the corner of his mouth. “The more followers you have, the more powerful you will be.”

Eleni glared at him, but he ignored her.

“You must go to them now,” said Fin. “Eleni, the goddess of fire will come to you soon to reward you for your fidelity. Do not bring them here. Dangerous things are afoot. But go now and tell them; tell them that Zaric has risen even more powerful than before.”

Cotiso's eyes widened as Fin spoke. “Yes, my lord. It shall be so.” He bowed deeply to Eleni. “My Grace. Thank you for your generosity. We will await you.”

“Where are your people now?” said Fin.

Cotiso pointed toward the mountains on the western side of the woods. “That way, my lord. A group of twenty followed me to the mountains, but refused to cross with me. They await my return. Our village is not much further. In the Valley of Bones.”

“How did you know to come here?” said Fin. “Even the gods don't know Eleni is here.”

“A dream, my lord,” said the man, pulling on his beard. “A raven came to me in a dream and told me to come. My brothers – please forgive them – did not believe me. They said I drank too much wine the night before. So I left in the night and came here.” He looked adoringly at Eleni. “And found a most glorious sight.” He raised his cowl again and his face disappeared. “I will go now, and tell my people. We shall feast in the goddess' name.” He paused and turned toward them. “My apologies, My Grace. What is your new name?”

“Eleni,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Eleni of the Fire,” said the old man reverently. “It shall be told.”

“Will you be all right?” Fin called after him.

Cotiso bowed as he walked backward. “I have come prepared,” he said. “Nothing can slow me.” He patted a heaping satchel on his hip. “We shall go into the fire smiling.”

“What?” said Fin.

“It is what we say. I will see you in this life or in the next.” He turned and disappeared into the trees.

Fin watched him until he couldn't see him any longer. Then he turned to Eleni. She was staring at him. “Something wrong?”

“You lied to that man,” she said, her voice cold.

“I just saved your life,” said Fin. “You felt it, didn't you?”

“What?” she said, but she instinctively put her hand over her heart.

“In your chest. A swelling of power when Cotiso saw you. You felt it, I know you did.”

“What does it matter? You lied to him. He's going to tell his whole village that they have to live to please me.”

“Don't they?”

“No,” said Eleni, her voice rising. “They will live and they will die. I have nothing to do with it. What you have done is what everyone has done to me my whole life. You are the same as the men from my village.”

“It gives them pleasure to worship you,” said Fin. “It makes them feel safe. It gives them answers about why things are the way they are. I don't know what you think we will be fighting out there, Eleni, but if I have to lie to give you power, to keep you alive, then I'll do it. If I have to kill to keep you alive, I'll do it. If I have to...” he stopped, staring at her.

“What?” said Eleni.

Fin shook his head, unsure what to say. It hung in the air, what went unsaid, though Eleni was frowning at him, confused. How could he put her in that position? They had only met days ago. And yet he could almost see the words he had not said: If I have to die for you, I'll do it.

“One man,” said Eleni. “What can one man's faith do? Your lie is so much bigger than the power I could get from him.”

“He was one man, but he will tell others,” said Fin. “On the other side of that mountain, he has men that have followed you for their entire lives. He will tell them. They will meet passersby, perhaps, if there are any. They will tell them. They will return to their village in a day or two and tell their brethren all about the great fire goddess, Eleni.”

“We don't have two days,” said Eleni. “We probably don't even have one.”

“Eleni,” said Fin, “You are going to be more powerful than you know. Loki will cower before you. And I wasn't lying to him. You'll visit his village when this is all over. I'll take you there.”

She looked away. Fin couldn't tell what she was thinking. Her face was impassive as ever. When she looked back at him she had softened. “Do you think Loki knows where Anja is?”

Fin frowned. It would be to his benefit to keep the Fates separated. Or perhaps he had been looking for Eleni longer than they knew. “We don't even know if that is Loki,” said Fin. Though even to his own ears his words sounded empty. It was Loki out there, he could feel it.

“I miss her,” said Eleni, her voice hoarse. She took a step back from Fin and angrily wiped at her face. “Why does it have to be me?” she suddenly said furiously. Her eyes were wet and her shoulders were heaving. “Why couldn't it be someone else that holds the world together?”

“What are you talking about?” said Fin.

She shook her head. “It doesn't matter. Things were better when I couldn't feel. When I couldn't feel anything.” She hid her face in her hands.

“Eleni,” Fin took a step toward her, “it's okay to feel sad for your mother. You miss her. I understand. I'd do anything to be with my family again. They're gone forever, and I can never see them again. But Anja is alive. We'll find her. I promise.”

“I wasn't talking about my mother,” she said. Her voice sounded flat. Fin reached out to touch her, expecting her to pull away as usual. But she didn't. He touched her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. She looked up at him and his chest hurt. She was so beautiful it hurt him to look at her. She shook her head and her hair fell from her shoulders to swing in front of her in tangled red curls.

“Nothing can stop you from feeling,” Fin said. He wanted to touch her face, to kiss her eyelids, to lose himself in her, but he couldn't. She was so strong, had been through so much, but she was also more fragile than anyone he had ever met. He didn't want to take advantage of her when she was obviously verging on tears. She had been torn from her mother so young, and then completely abandoned. The Fates were cruel, to be sure, but Fin thought that something else was happening. Anja had been protecting Eleni. But why? And how?

Eleni pulled her hands from his and wiped her face. She had become stony and impassive again. Fin had lost her again. It was like a mask she put on.

“We should go back,” said Eleni.

Fin sighed. “Yes.”

They started walking back toward the encampment, Eleni slightly ahead of Fin. She turned to look at him as though examining him. “Are you really angry that Magda called the gods?”

Fin smiled ruefully. “I apologize for that. I had a moment of weakness. I wanted revenge for my family. I wasn't thinking logically. I only thought of how it would be to kill the bastards that wiped out my loved ones.”

Eleni was quiet for a long while and turned back to her walking. Finally she turned back to him. “I can understand that. Wanting to kill the person responsible for hurting the people you love. I would want to kill them too.”

“Thank you,” said Fin, not sure what he should say to that. “But sometimes you have to step back and realize you can't do what you want without dying.”

“Sometimes,” said Eleni, “doing what you want is worth dying for.”

Fin smiled. “I suppose that's true, too.”

They walked in silence for a long time, the only sound the crunching of Fin's boots on the snow, and, just barely audible, the muffled hiss that Eleni's bare feet made against the cold. Fin watched the sway of her hair, the swing of her hips, the easy way she let her arms swing as she walked. She was at home in the forest, much more so than the way she was around people. In the encampment, she was withdrawn, as though she did not consider herself part of things. She had a way with the children, but Fin had never even seen her speak to any of the women, and only spoke to the men when she had to. But out here, she was a different person. She was more at ease and would talk to him when they were in the forest. Fin realized that she was not as guarded out here. If he had met her in the encampment, he doubted she would have ever even spoken to him or given him a further thought.

Fin smiled to himself. He was glad he had gone back for her. It had been hard not to walk into that village that had been so cruel and wipe every last one of them out. He had respected Eleni's wishes, but Magda hadn't. Perhaps the old woman did know what she was doing. There was a grim justice to what had happened to the men. But the women and children, they had been innocent, or close to it. Fin winced at the thought of the Reivers tearing them apart. It was all so barbaric. Fin would have just made them disappear. Like they never were. The village, the people, the metal box. Everything. Replaced it with forest. It was an abuse of his power, but he had done it before. He wished dearly that it were that simple with Loki. It only worked on humans. And Loki and his cohorts were definitely not human. A god and two...what? Everything he knew about Skoll and Hati would fit into a thimble: They were the children of Fenrir, the wolf god, and Fenrir was the son of Loki. So it was a family affair. Fin frowned. He didn't like to think about family these days. Even talking to Eleni about her mother gave him a cold hollow feeling in his guts.

“Stop,” Eleni said, halting suddenly. Fin almost ran right into her.

“What is it?” he said, feeling slightly guilty for getting lost in his thoughts. But even as he said the words, he could feel it too.

“I don't know,” said Eleni. “It feels familiar. What is that?” She frowned into the trees. Fin could see shadows moving far away. Moving toward camp.

“Gods,” said Fin. “That's what you feel. Are you ready to meet your family? Your old family, I mean.”

“Are you my family, too?” said Eleni.

Fin laughed. “Thankfully, no. I come from a different family of gods.”

“How did they know to come?” said Eleni. “Magda said she sent for them, but I didn't see her leave. And she's too old to get very far.”

“Don't underestimate that old crone,” said Fin. “And she does have some power left. That white crow isn't the only thing she can wriggle her mind into. You remember the old man said he dreamed you would be here?”

“Yes.”

“That was Magda. She must have done it before you even came to the Reiver camp, when I was still trying to get you to leave your village. Crafty one, she is. I haven't seen many of her black ravens around today. She probably sent them out to carry messages.”

“They got a message and just hurried over?” said Eleni.

“Or she just got into their heads and told them to come. Gods still fear the Fates, even if they're not powerful right now. We know that eventually they'll be Three again.”

“And then they'll be powerful?”

“More than powerful,” Fin said gravely. “They're the force of the universe.”

“It isn't easy to think of Magda that way.” Eleni frowned. “Or Anja. They just seem like themselves.”

“So do we all,” said Fin. “Until the time comes to use our power. And then we are many things. Beautiful sometimes. Dangerous too. And some of us are unstoppable. But then we do stop eventually, and go back to being friends, enemies, lovers. Creatures of habit. And wait for the next time we're needed.”

“You make it sound like a gift,” said Eleni.

“Oh, it's a gift to have power, to be sure,” said Fin. “And also a curse.”

“Do you ever wish you could be normal? Mortal?”

“I used to. When I was younger. There was a woman. A human. We were in love. I wanted to marry her, but gods and humans are not meant to be together. I watched her wither away until she was naught but dust. I wanted to be mortal, to be with her.”

“Do you still?”

Fin hesitated. “No,” he said after a time. He didn't say any more, and Eleni didn't ask. After a moment, they simultaneously began to walk toward camp. It was time.

Chapter Fifteen

Magda pulled the tent flap closed behind her, ignoring a pain in her shoulder as she did so. She hated feeling old. She rubbed at the ache, but it went deeper than her fingers could prod. She sighed and walked stiffly to the cot. She took care to sit down very slowly so as not to fall, leaning heavily on her walking stick. She didn't know what this slow transformation had done to her bones, and she was too weak to heal herself should she break one. She lay her stick on the ground and pulled a quilt around her shoulders.

She could hear their voices outside, the excited voices of the Reiver men, and new voices too. Most of the earthly gods had obeyed her call. They had not forgotten that she once wielded great power, and they knew she would have it again. They came out of fear. When Magda was united with her sisters, no god could equal their power. It would be foolish not to come. But now she couldn't dwell on small victories. She had to focus.

She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, balling up what little energy she had left. She let herself drop and felt a sudden lightness. She was free of her aging body. She felt for the line that connected her to Mati, the white raven. She didn't control the extraordinary animal, but could instruct it when necessary. She saw a pinpoint of light in front of her and she moved toward it, floating bodiless through the void. The pinpoint became bigger, opening up like the bud of a flower. Magda reached for it and suddenly it wasn't a point of light, it was everything.

She blinked as she eased into Mati's head. She looked around, her vision strange. It was always odd coming into an animal's head. Mati had also obeyed her wishes. She was perched atop a great iron wall. From what Fin had told her, Magda knew this to be Eleni's old village.

Magda felt a sense of satisfaction that the Reivers had wiped out the village of Krasna. They must have known who Eleni was. They had tried to break her. But it took more than metal and harsh words to break a god as powerful as Zaric. Eleni had far more power than she yet knew. She was wasted here, just as Magda was wasted with the Reivers. But these dark times were temporary.

Magda looked around the empty village. Most of it had been burned by the looks of it. If Magda had lips to control she would have smiled. That was as it should be. Eleni should be feared. She was puzzled why Anja had stayed with her so long. That was unusual. You did not bond with the god you carried. You were a vessel. Magda herself had done it once, not far from here. A sun god, she recalled. But she had left the girl-child with some villagers far to the north. Gods should not be raised by Fates. It just was not the way.

Magda asked the bird to move its head so she could look over the wall. There was deep forest all around and a wide, narrow meadow, white with snow. She could see movement in the trees wherever she looked. The dark creatures were settling in without Eleni. Magda had been happy to see Fin come back to camp for many reasons, but mostly just to keep the slime from this horrible forest away.

Magda heard a creak and Mati's head turned to look. The door of one of only a few unburned hovels had opened. A figure stepped out, and Magda knew him at once. She had known before, though she couldn't tell the others for certain until she had known for sure. He looked much like the wolf brothers, Skoll and Hati, but Loki never did get the eyes right. And the soft, very unwolflike eyes that gazed out of that hideous, shaggy head were deep with intelligence. He was shaped differently, too. From what Magda could recall, the brothers were stocky and muscular, where this replica was tall and lean, just like Loki's true form.

Magda felt a powerful stir in the air, an almost painful sensation hitting her even in her spectral form. Loki radiated with it. It seemed to travel around him, orbiting his body in waves. This was not good. A chaos god should not have such power. It felt nearly as strong as the power of the Fates. Magda yearned even more strongly for her sisters. He had to be stopped. It was not possible, but he was stronger than she had even contemplated.

Magda watched as he changed. The hair began to recede from his body, his spine straightened, and his face changed. He stood panting for a moment after it was over before he straightened. He was stark naked, but walked through the fresh snow not seeming to notice. Or not caring. He gazed around the village leisurely, his eyes sliding across the destroyed village, made fresh and new by the snow. Finally, his eyes landed on her. And he smiled.

Magda tried to will the bird to fly, but she couldn't budge it. That had never happened before. She tried again, but instead of flying away, Mati rose up and glided down to land on Loki's outstretched hand.

“Hello, Magda,” he said calmly. “I was wondering when you would show up. Couldn't get into my head, could you?”

Magda was frightfully aware that his fingers curled around the raven's body. Softly, but the threat was there. He could crush Mati if he wished to.

“You're probably wondering why you couldn't fly away,” he said. He smiled again. He seemed to have too many teeth. There was something wrong with the smile. Magda realized that it didn't touch any other part of his face. Only the mouth moved. “I happened to come across a nature god in my travels,” said Loki. His hair seemed to blend in with the gray clouds above them. “I took his power. I can control any natural animal I choose. Technically, your freakish bird is still natural.” His face went cold and the smile faded. “It is you who is unnatural. You and your kind.”

Magda managed to make Mati flutter his wings, but it was a paltry movement. Loki grunted with satisfaction. “You won't be able to flutter back to your own body either,” said Loki, looking at her, or rather Mati, with mock sadness. “Not until I let you. Funny, isn't it? Once you could control whether I lived or died, suffered or walked free. Now it's the other way around.”

All Magda could do was watch. She couldn't talk or even scream. She was a tiny bird in a giant's hand. She wondered if she could die this way. She didn't think so, but anything was possible. To her surprise, though, Loki's face changed from cold anger to deep sadness. “She died out there,” he said, his voice cracking. “She died while I lay helpless and bound. And you and your sisters could have stopped it at any time.”

If Magda could have spoken she would have said that the Fates had no place in the politics of gods. Odin's anger was none of her affair. But all that came out of the raven's beak was a high-pitched squawk.

Loki looked at her for a long time, his expression like someone lost with no knowledge of how to get back to the road. For a moment sadness filled his violet eyes. But it slowly changed back into anger. “We will wait here,” he said, his voice taut. “Your gods will come to us. And they will lose.”

His fingers tightened and she felt Mati's terror. She felt tiny bones breaking, and after a moment, she felt a wash of coldness come over her. Then she felt her consciousness being dragged back, like a rider thrown from a horse, back the way she had come through the void, hurtling and screaming and her heart hollow with sadness. Mati was dead. And she was quite possibly sending the gods off to their slaughter.

Chapter Sixteen

Eleni stood on the edge of camp staring at the newcomers. A “calling of the gods” seemed to imply numbers, but there weren't as many as she had expected. Here were only five. Eleni frowned. Everyone kept talking about Loki as though he were to be feared, as though he were an indestructible force. But Eleni wasn't convinced. He was only one, after all. And they were many, gods and Reivers. Eleni had killed hundreds of dark creatures over the years. She had taught herself to use her power instead of fear it. She would cower for no one, especially not a petty god of chaos.

A man stood with the Reivers. He was two times the size of Elek, tall and wide. A great black beard rose out from his face and was contained in two braids down his chest. He laughed loudly and often, holding his great belly as he did so. He was laughing now, his chest shaking with his guffaws. He slapped a Reiver on the back and sent him flying over the fire. This seemed to make him laugh harder. Many of the Reivers took a tentative step away from him, laughing nervously. Only Elek seemed at ease around the man.

A woman with dark hair that cascaded around her in shining ringlets moved among the women, who were buzzing around the camp like bees. Gathering wood to prepare the last meal before the men set off, gathering cloaks and wrapping various items in packs for their husbands and fathers to take with them. Some of the women were crying. The dark-haired woman glided between them with a hard look on her face. She wore a long green cloak trimmed in fur.

A man was talking to Fin. He had a beard like the first, but it was bushy and unconstrained. His hair hung in ropes down his back and his woven coat was tangled with bits of dried leaves and small twigs. His beard and hair, too, when Eleni looked closer, seemed to be bursting with bits of plants and dead flowers, as if they had gotten tangled there and he just hadn't bothered to clean them out. Fin didn't seem to notice. The two of them were laughing together as old friends.

The other two, a man and a woman, hovered at the far edge of camp. Eleni frowned as she peered at the man. She had never seen anything like it. His skin was gray and looked slightly moist. He wasn't unattractive, but she found it difficult to look at him. He was tall and slim and he had black hair like the rest of them. Gray robes flowed around him in the breeze and made him look more than a little like a specter. The woman appeared to be repelled by him, her posture conveying that she yearned to step away from him. But she was equally suspicious of everyone else in the camp. Eleni recognized that look because she usually carried it on her own face. The woman didn't trust anyone in the camp. Eleni could see her scanning the encampment the way Eleni scanned the countryside during the hunt. The woman's dark hair was pulled back in a tight knot on her head and she had the biggest bow Eleni had ever seen slung over her shoulder. The woman's eyes suddenly stopped on Eleni, her eyebrows shooting up. Knowing she had been seen, Eleni stepped out from behind the tree and into the open.

Slowly all five newcomers seemed to sense her presence. The big man stopped laughing and slowly turned to face her, the smile fading from his face. The beautiful woman with curly hair stepped toward her, turning her back on the women. Fin and the man he was talking to turned their heads to look at her, and the gray man narrowed his eyes at her. Eleni paused, unsettled by the eyes upon her.

“I don't believe it,” said the big man, shaking himself free of the Reivers that had gathered around him. He stepped toward Eleni. “It's you. But it cannot be you.”

Eleni snorted. She looked from face to face. “I cannot help who I am,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“Magda is sure,” Fin said, walking across the camp and standing beside Eleni. “I'm sure, too. Eleni is the new Zaric. The new goddess of fire.”

“The Sudices have changed him,” said the man with the bushy beard that had been talking to Fin. He was looking at Eleni with concern. “Why does he look so unlike us?”

“He looks like a Sudice,” said the soft, cool voice of the gray man.

The beautiful woman in the long, green cloak approached Eleni. Eleni wanted to run away from these people. To go into the forest and never come out. Who were they to tell her she didn't look right? She didn't even know them. But even as the thought occurred to her, she knew it was untrue. She did know them. She even knew their names. The beautiful woman coming toward her was Lada. She stopped in front of Eleni with the strong scent of flowers, warm and dusty like a summer afternoon. Lada reached out a small, perfect hand. Eleni flinched, but Lada smiled at her. She touched Eleni's face, her hand cool against Eleni's hot skin.

“Sister,” said Lada. “So pretty.” She turned to look at the bushy-bearded man. Veles, Eleni recalled. “Why does she look so different?” Lada asked. She turned back to Eleni, her fingers trailing to Eleni's hair. “So different from Zaric. From any of us.” Her eyes met Eleni's. “What happened to you?”

Eleni swallowed thickly. She shook her head. She remembered. She couldn't stop remembering. It didn't come in a rush now, it was now all there in her head, just as it had happened to Zaric. To her. Zaric's memories were now her own. She felt a hollowness in the pit of her stomach. “I died,” Eleni whispered.

The big man, Radegast, stepped toward her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal he was trying not to spook. Eleni met his eyes, as dark as hers were light.

“I have never felt such pain,” Eleni said. She felt a hot tear stream down her cheek, boiling into vapor before it got to her chin. “And then I was gone for such a long time. Into this body, this newness. I was different. Not just a woman, but truly different.”

Eleni could feel the words coming out of her like they were her own, but they sounded so unlike her. They were her words, but from a different part of her. Seeing her family, knowing them, had released these memories as if a great iron door had been pried open. They were staring at her wide-eyed now, even the strong, stoic Diza, holding her bow like a child. The memories flooded her, making her vision blur and she doubled over. “What's happening?” she asked, through gritted teeth.

“She's remembering,” she heard Fin say as strong arms held her, picked her up.

“It burned,” Eleni whispered. “So much fire. I've never burned before, but I burned.”

“She's reliving her death,” a male voice said. Soft and almost gray itself. Marowit, her brother. The god of nightmares.

Through blurred vision, she felt herself being carried inside her tent. Fin laid her on her cot. Pain coursed through her body suddenly, making Eleni arch her back and scream. She heard a deeper scream join her own. The pain subsided, but she could feel another wave coming. Fin was holding his arm to his chest, his eyes filled with pain.

“Fin?” Eleni croaked. The wave was coming again and she arched her back, her scream seeming unworldly. She smelled smoke, and was reminded of her childhood, dreaming bad dreams about burning when she would awake to find her bedding burned to ashes in her metal box, smoke filling her lungs, her body covered in soot. The wave passed again and a face popped into her head. A face she now recognized as if she had just seen it yesterday.

There was the sound of the heavy flap being lifted and a cold breeze that carried the smoke away. Magda stood there looking around at them all, her good eye frantically taking in the situation. “Are you mad? Get away from her. She's going to kill you all,” she wheezed.

The gods backed away, looking fearfully at Eleni. They all went out through the flap, one by one, casting curious and frightened glances at her as they went. Magda pushed Fin out last of all, still holding his arm. Magda looked at her. “You will feel pain, child, but you must feel it alone. I'm sorry.”

“Perun,” Eleni muttered. “He didn't come.”

Magda paused, the flap in her hand. She looked back at Eleni. “No, he didn't.”

“I know why.” Eleni was sweating as she had seen people from the village do when they were in a fever. She felt the necklace at her throat suddenly come to life again. A mild jolt in her chest made her shiver.

“Why?” said Magda. “Why didn't the lightning god come, child?”

“Because he killed me,” said Eleni breathlessly. “And he knows how to take the gods.”

Magda was staring at her. “What are you saying?” Her voice was a whisper.

“Perun killed me because I knew. But he wasn't strong enough to take my soul. He must have taught Loki to do it. My own brother, Perun. He is the god-eater.” Eleni could feel the pain coming again, each wave more powerful than the last. “Go,” said Eleni, her voice hardly above a breath. “Before I hurt you. Please go.”

Eleni heard the flap being opened and dropping heavily, the cool winter air cooling her for just a moment before the pain took her again. Burning, she realized. She was burning. This is what had happened to her. This is what Perun had done to her. And when she came out on the other side of this, the god of lightning was going to find out what it felt like to burn.

Daylight still filtered in through Eleni's eyelids when she came back to herself. She stared at the bright red of the back of her eyelids for a long time. She could tell that her tent was gone, and she felt not a cot under her, but cold earth.

Eleni opened her eyes. The forest no longer surrounded her. In fact, nothing surrounded her. She stood up slowly and turned around, unable to comprehend the sight. Snow fell upon her, strange snow. She held out her hand to catch some, and realized her mistake. It wasn't snow. It was ash. Just like the countryside. The blackened ground crunched delicately under her bare feet. There was nothing here but desolation. A breeze rustled her hair, but it didn't refresh her. It smelled of burning. Eleni looked up at the sky. Thick red smoke hid the daylight casting an eerie glow over the burned countryside.

Eleni put her hand over her mouth and stifled a sob. She shook her head. “No,” she moaned. “Please, no. Not again.”

Something flickered in front of her, making her blink. There was nothing there, but there was a sharp smell, like in a lightning storm. Eleni frowned at the spot she had seen movement. Another flicker, then it was gone. She was sure she had seen a figure there.

“Hello?” Eleni said.

There was a sound like a branch snapping and suddenly a woman stood in front of Eleni. She was young and beautiful, with red hair that was wrapped around her head in intricate plaits. She wore thick robes the same icy blue as her eyes. The same color as Eleni's.

“I know you,” said Eleni. “Danai. The youngest of the Fates.”

“I know who I am,” said Danai, her gaze firmly on Eleni. “Do you know who you are?”

“Yes,” said Eleni. “I do now.”

“No,” said Danai, shaking her head. “You don't. But you're starting to.”

“This isn't real,” said Eleni. “I'm dreaming. Please say I'm dreaming.”

“You are. But that doesn't make this any less real.”

Eleni shook her head. “I didn't do this. I couldn't have. I'm not strong enough.”

“You did this,” said Danai. “Though not in this lifetime.”

Eleni looked up at the sky again, the rolling smoke stinging even her eyes. She brushed ash from her face. “This is the fire. When I—when Zaric died. When he was murdered.”

“You need to stop separating yourself from Zaric,” said Danai. “You are one and the same. You died. You were murdered. You destroyed the earth. Only you. There is no him. Only you.”

“No,” said Eleni. “I'm not the same. I'm different now.”

“Why?” Danai said. “Because you were raised with humans? How did that fare for them? Because you wanted so desperately to be one of them? How did that fare for you?” Danai shook her head. “Because you had a mother? Anja was no mother to you. She did you no favors. If anything, she is the reason you now suffer.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Anja is a Fate. She is perhaps the most important of the Three.” There was a controlled edge to Danai's voice, and a deep anger under her words. “She knew the path that should have been taken. The path that was destined to be thousands of years ago. Before the gods even existed we weaved the way for things to be. We saw your death. We saw the fire. We knew she would become a vessel.”

“Then why is she lost?” said Eleni. “Why doesn't Magda know where she is?”

“Because Anja changed your fate. And now everything is chaos. Loki has risen, the gods are dying, and nothing is as it was supposed to be.”

Eleni was stunned. “How?”

“After the fire, Anja ran away with you inside of her. She was supposed to give you to Perun. He was supposed to kill you. And then we were supposed to cut his thread forever.” Danai stepped toward her. “You were never meant to survive.”

“Then why doesn't someone just kill me?” said Eleni. “End this. If I was never meant to survive, my death will fix everything.”

“No,” said Danai. “Now you are the only one that can make it right. If you die now, it means the end of everything. Loki will bring Ragnarok and this world will descend into permanent chaos. You have to stop him. You have to stop everything. And then you have to die.”

“What?”

“Your thread is entwined with that of Loki now. When the Fates become Three again, we will cut Loki's thread. I believe when that happens, your thread will also be cut. I'm sorry. There is no way around it.”

“I've never even seen Loki,” said Eleni.

“And yet, you are destined to die for him.”

“I thought destiny was ruined,” said Eleni.

“A moment ago you were asking for death,” said Danai. “How is this any different?”

“I asked why someone didn't kill me,” said Eleni. “But you are asking me to fix everything and then die. Can I not save everything and live?”

Danai flickered for a moment, but didn't disappear. “Perhaps you will find a way to disentangle yourself. I know very little of what the future holds. But you must accept this possibility. Do you remember what the Sirin told you?”

“How do you know about that?” said Eleni.

“I was there.”

Eleni frowned. She heard voices in the distance.

“Love would be a mistake,” said Danai. “Love is for humans. The gods are for justice. For vengeance. For destruction. For balance. For summer and winter and the sun and the moon. Leave love for the mortals, they have so little else.”

“What if I can't help it?” said Eleni, not meeting her eyes.

“Then you must fight it,” said Danai. “Alaunus is a gentle god. Would you have him burn with you?”

“No,” said Eleni.

“Then you have to ignore the way you feel. Focus on the end. Turn your love to anger to stop Loki. It is the only way you will succeed.”

Danai flickered again. “Wait,” said Eleni. “How do I find you?”

Danai smiled for the first time. “You've already found me.” With a flicker and a crack she was gone again. Eleni was alone in the emptiness. Her sob turned to an echo and she didn't try to stop it this time. The sob was still in her throat when she opened her eyes, closing them immediately against the late afternoon light.

“She is awake,” she heard a male voice say. One of the Reivers maybe. Shielding her eyes with her hand, Eleni raised her eyelids. With her other hand she wiped at the tears that hadn't evaporated off her cheeks. She sat up slowly. Her tent was gone and a perfect circle of black surrounded her, just wider than her tent had been. Soot covered her body where her dress had burned off. She groaned. She loved that dress.

There was a crowd of people standing by the fire pit. They were all looking at her. Magda pushed her way through them and came hobbling toward her.

“I'm fine,” said Eleni, pushing the old woman's probing hands away.

“You're fine?” said Magda. “You are not fine. You just burst into flames.” Her white eye caught the light. She seemed even older than usual. Eleni looked away.

“What does your raven see?” said Eleni. “Have they headed toward us yet?”

Magda hesitated. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Loki killed Mati.” Magda's good eye, usually as hard as iron, teared up for a moment, but she stopped it with a scowl. “He killed him when I was inside Mati. He knew I was there.”

“So,” said Eleni, “he could be right outside camp and we wouldn't know.”

“You sound very much like Zaric,” said Magda, suddenly curious.

“I am Zaric,” said Eleni.

Magda studied Eleni for a moment. “He won't come here,” she said.

“How can you be sure?”

“He told me,” said Magda. “He lies in wait. A beast with his mouth open wide to swallow us all.”

“So we are marching to our deaths,” said Eleni, making her face emotionless.

Magda looked at Eleni for a long moment. “Yes,” she said finally. “Most of you will probably die. Maybe even you.”

“We should go now.”

Fin joined Magda, looking at Eleni with concern. His arm was swaddled in cloth. Eleni couldn't look at him. Not even to apologize for hurting him. It hurt to look at him. She didn't quite understand the pain she felt in her chest, the weakness in her limbs as she felt his eyes on her, but she knew it wouldn't help stop Loki.

“Eleni, you should rest,” said Fin.

Eleni stood up, feeling the wind against her bare skin. “I've already rested,” she said coldly, avoiding his eyes. “It's time to fight. Loki must be stopped.”

“Is this the right way?” Fin said. “Perhaps we should just get you away. All the time it took us to find you. Loki could kill you tonight.”

“We're wasting time,” said Eleni.

“You could die, Eleni.” Fin grasped her shoulders and squeezed them. “Do you understand that? We could all die.”

“I have no choice,” Eleni said softly. “I don't get to walk away from this. Not ever. I'll never be a goddess on a peaceful green isle, Fin. It will never end well for me.”

“You don't know that.” Fin loosened his grasp and dropped his arms. “No one knows what will happen. You can be whatever you want. You're not the girl in the iron box any longer.”

“It's just another iron box,” said Eleni, making her face hard. “You can leave if you wish. You have that choice. But I can't.”

“Why are you saying all this? What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” said Eleni. She took a step back. It felt like dying all over again. Only cold this time. As cold as she had felt the first time she had met Fin and he had given her his coat. Fin shook his head.

“I thought...” he trailed off. His jaw clenched. He looked at Eleni, his eyes searching.

“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice almost inaudible, her eyes aimed at the ground.

Fin shook his head again and walked away without another word. She heard a muffled whoop from the forest. The gods were ready. Eleni looked at Magda. “It is just another iron box, isn't it, old woman?”

“Watch your tongue with me, girl.”

“You didn't bring me here to find Anja. Or to keep me safe.”

“What's happened to you?” Magda said. “Something more than memories. I can see it. What do you know?”

Eleni snorted. “A Fate needs to ask me?”

Magda's good eye opened in surprise. “You've seen something. What is it?”

Eleni pulled her arm roughly from Magda's grasp. “Take care of the women and children. Those of us that can fight are going to do just that.” Eleni turned to walk away but looked back at the startled old woman. She reached behind her neck and untied the strap around her neck. Oddly she felt even more naked without the constant buzzing at her chest. She held out the necklace to Magda, the light inside flickering and gyrating against the clear orb. “This should protect you,” said Eleni. She dropped it into Magda's hand.

“We don't even know what this does,” said Magda.

“I'm still alive, aren't I?” said Eleni. “Despite all your efforts.”

She felt Magda watching her as she walked away.

“Eleni!” said a female voice. Eleni turned to see Iren running toward her with something in her arms. “I brought you some new clothes,” the girl panted, holding up a pouch. “And some food to take with you.”

“The dress will just be ruined,” said Eleni. “And I have no need of the food.” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I may not be out there long enough to eat.”

“Please,” Iren said as Eleni turned to go. “Wear the dress at least. I made it myself. It would make me feel like I was there if you wore something of mine.”

Eleni glared down at the girl. “Why would you want to be there?”

Iren shrugged nervously. “To be a part of something. To help. To feel like I'm doing something good.”

“If you want to do something good, leave this place,” said Eleni. “Go find someone to love who loves you back. Life is too precious and too short to waste away with Reivers. Or with gods for that matter. Stop trying to be like me.” Eleni took the dress out of Iren's hands and shoved it over her head, pulling it down roughly over her body. “Be happy to be mortal, girl. You have so few worries.”

Eleni walked toward the sound of war cries in the forest, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the women huddled around the fire as she walked by. Loki had to die. She knew it was true. He would never stop. But if she had to die, too, she didn't want to leave anyone with pain in their chests that felt like darkness so black no light would ever fill it. She didn't want anyone to feel the way she felt now. Only a few weeks ago she felt nothing for anyone. If only she could feel that way again. That Eleni wouldn't have minded barreling toward death and destiny.

Whatever destiny was. Not even the Fates seemed to know.

Chapter Seventeen

Fin watched Eleni striding toward them. She was clothed now. The setting sun lit her up, making it appear that she was on fire once more. The dress she wore was in the Reiver style, but had been dyed a deep, dark, blood red. Her hair fell wild around her, an even brighter red than the dress. There was a frightening beauty to her. Fin had wanted to protect her, despite fearing her power, but her behavior since waking up had changed all that. After all the time they had spent together, he had felt her changing, softening, opening up, until she awakened. Now she was even more hard and cold than when he had met her. What had happened to her? He knew that she remembered the way she was before. She now had the memories and knowledge of Zaric that had been locked up tight. But even more, she talked like someone willingly walking toward her death. Not as a woman realizing her power and eager to see the world, as she had been in the forest. He would find out. She would talk to him if he could get her alone, she always did, even when he hadn't expected it.

“Why are there so few?” said Eleni. She was looking at her new-found brothers and sisters, her gaze lingering on each of them. Her eyes slid past Fin without stopping.

“Dead, mostly,” said Diza, standing and shouldering her bow. “One by one they disappeared. Some may have run, but I believe most of them are probably dead, never to reawaken again.”

“Perun is missing,” boomed Radegast, waving toward the mountains behind her. “I have seen his bolts but he does not come.”

“Perun is afraid to come,” said Eleni. “He killed me. And he is the first god-eater.”

The gods were silent, exchanging glances. The Reivers had stepped back when Eleni approached. Either out of fear or respect, they were muttering amongst themselves, unaware of the words the gods were exchanging.

“We must kill him, then,” said Veles. “He cannot live as he is after this atrocious act. He must be reborn.”

“Perun is not important right now,” said Eleni. “Loki must be stopped. He will bring Ragnarok.”

“Ragnarok?” said Lada. “Are you sure?”

“How do you know?” wheezed Marowit, his eyes flickering around almost nervously. Eleni couldn't rest her eyes on him. She got an uncomfortable knot in her stomach when she looked at him.

“I know,” said Eleni.

“What does he need to be here for, then?” said Diza. “Why us? Certainly there are other gods, stronger gods he could take. He's been in that village for days from what Magda says. Why? What is so important?” Every eye fell on Eleni, who shifted uncomfortably.

“He is here, that is all we know,” said Eleni. “Where is Chernobog? Dead?”

“He lives,” said Radegast. “He just did not come.”

“Does he not fear the Fates?” said Eleni. “They won't be apart forever.” Fin thought he saw her tense at the words. He wished he could understand her. She was more like Zaric now than Eleni.

Radegast snorted. “He fears no one. He stays in the underworld. No one has seen him for many years. He does not emerge. The Fates have no power in his realm. He has the power of Odin where he is.”

“He is only one,” said Lada. “We are many. Why do we not just take him?”

“He has been eating the souls of the gods,” said Fin.

Eleni finally looked at him, flinching as she did so. He met her gaze and she looked away. Fin frowned, but hid the pain that was surely on his face. “He will be more powerful than any god we have seen. More powerful than Odin. More powerful than the great gods of the South. Maybe he wants Eleni, or maybe he wants to kill us all and devour us. It doesn't matter. Eleni is right, we have to fight him. If he brings Ragnarok, more than the gods will die. Mortals, trees, animals, everything. And Loki will be the only god left to rule. I don't know how he would do such a thing, but if Eleni says it's so, it's so.”

Eleni's eyes were on him again. She nodded and there was an almost-smile on her face just for a fleeting moment. Then it was gone and she was looking at the others. “If this is what we have, then we should go now, but quietly. I will ride ahead on Fin's horse.”

“No, you won't,” said Fin.

Eleni looked at him, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You will not let me ride your horse?”

“I'll let you ride her,” said Fin. “But Epona is no ordinary horse. She won't let just anyone ride her. I'll have to ride with you. Otherwise she'll throw you and trample you first chance she gets. Besides, you've never ridden a horse, have you?”

Eleni sniffed. “Not in this life.”

“You might be a little rusty.” Veles laughed, but stopped when Eleni looked at him icily.

“Fin and I will ride ahead,” she said. “You will all head toward the village with care. Meet us just outside of the field in front of the village. There is a small clearing by a stream. You will hear it right away; it runs fast. Fin and I will meet you there and we will plan our attack.”

“Loki will feel us coming,” said Diza. “If he's as powerful as you say, he's going to know.”

“We have no other choice,” said Eleni. The gods were silent. The Reivers snickered amongst themselves a ways off in the forest.

“What about the women?” said Fin. “They need protection.”

“I've left Magda and the necklace,” said Eleni.

“Neither one of those things will stop the dark creatures.”

Eleni frowned. “Marowit, you command the darks, do you not?”

“They obey me when I bid them to,” said Marowit warily. Fin suppressed a shiver. The diminutive god had always felt slimy and disgraceful to him.

“You will stay here,” said Eleni.

“I will do no such thing,” said Marowit. “I am no coward.”

“Someone has to protect the Fate,” said Lada. “She's the only one we have.”

“She cannot die,” Marowit sneered. “She doesn't need protection.”

“Just like the other two that are missing?” said Fin. “Is there any doubt that they were led to disappear?”

“If they stay disappeared, it might not be so bad.”

“You will stay here and protect Magda,” said Eleni. “And the women and children.” Eleni's eyes glinted, as though flame had flickered there, but it was gone in an instant. Marowit shut his mouth. He stood up and walked toward the village, casting an angry look at Eleni as he went.

“He never was good in a fight anyway,” said Radegast. “Always with those dark things.” He shuddered.

“We will not speak of it. It is time to go.” Eleni looked at Fin. “We will do this. We will kill him. We're strong enough together.”

Before the moon was high in the sky, the wolf joined them, loping alongside the horse. Oddly, though Fin prepared for the horse to run in terror, Epona didn't seem bothered by the wolf. Behind him, Eleni's tight grip around his waist relaxed somewhat. He thought the wolf brought her comfort. He couldn't pretend to know what was bothering her, or even begin to understand the way her mind worked, but Fin knew that she loved that animal as he had loved his siblings. It had always been all that she had.

They were halfway to the village, Epona beginning to froth at their mad pace, when Fin felt Eleni's body go rigid behind him. It had happened a few times along the way, but she had muttered apologies every time it happened. But this time was different. She went stiff as a stone. He heard her gasp, such a soft sound, and so out of place coming from her. Her grasp loosened around his waist and suddenly she wasn't there any more. Fin was off the horse before she had even stopped and was down on his knees next to Eleni. Her eyes were wide and her arms spread out across the ground. She arched her back as though an energy were coursing through her.

“Eleni?” said Fin. Twin flames burst through her eyes, rising up like small volcanoes. Then she went limp again, her eyelids sliding shut. Fin looked down at his bandaged arm. It still throbbed, though Magda had mostly healed him with some sort of congealed, foul-smelling liquid she had with her. He looked at Eleni. Her face had gone as gray as Marowit's. It didn't matter if he got hurt. He lifted Eleni's head gingerly and cradled it in his lap. She looked so small, so delicate lying there like this. He touched her face. It was hot, though not hot enough to burn him. The wolf prodded her hand with a nose. The animal looked at Fin and whined. Fin frowned as the wolf's eyes stared at him. They were golden, but not like a regular wolf. They seemed to shine in a familiar way.

Eleni's eyes shot open so quickly it surprised Fin and he looked away from the wolf. Eleni sat up, looking around her like she didn't understand where she was. She turned and saw him. “Fin? What happened?” She touched her belly just below her ribs, frowning. “I feel very strange.”

“Ah,” said Fin, understanding. He smiled. “You scared me. I thought you were hurt. Or worse.”

“What is it then?”

“It's power.” Fin stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Someone is worshiping you.”

“Why?”

“The priest from the forest,” said Fin. He bent down, offering his hand. She took it and Fin pulled her up off the ground. She was light, like a bird. She had her pale eyes fixed on him and he couldn't look away.

“What about him?” said Eleni.

Fin frowned and tore his gaze away. He cleared his throat and let go of her hand. He took a step back. “He probably found his traveling companions, or they returned to their village. What you're feeling now is what gods live and die for.”

“But not you,” said Eleni. He could feel her looking at him.

“No,” said Fin. “Not me.” He turned and patted Epona's neck. She had found a patch of clover. Fin bent over and put his hand on the small sprouts. They shot up between his fingers causing the horse to knicker happily as she bent her head to eat them. Fin stood up.

“What does it mean?” said Eleni. Fin turned to look at her. This was the disconnected Eleni, the one he had come to think of as the mask, though perhaps he had it backwards. Perhaps this one was real and the vulnerable woman from the forest was the mask.

“It means you have more power now,” said Fin. “That will be useful when we find Loki.”

Eleni flinched at the name. For a moment she looked hurt, but it was only an instant. She saw Fin watching her and the expression was gone. She regarded him, looking as emotionless as when she was dealing with the Reivers. “We should go,” she said. There was a snap and Fin saw the wolf walk smoothly out from under some bushes, licking blood from her snout.

“I'm going to let Epona rest for a bit,” he said. “I've overworked her. If we want to make it the rest of the way, she needs to eat.”

Eleni nodded, but it was stiff and awkward, as though she didn't know how to act. Fin thought that was probably true a lot of the time. But somehow the strangeness made her better to him. It made her more...herself. Eleni's eyes flicked around them, avoiding him. She could make herself cold all she wanted to. She was afraid to be alone with him.

“What's changed?” said Fin.

“What?” said Eleni, startled, her eyes snapping to him.

“Something changed,” said Fin. “You're different. Your memories came back to you. But you can't let them change you.”

“You don't know,” said Eleni. Her voice was hard, but her eyes were soft as they looked upon him. Fin felt everything stripped away then.

“Just stop,” said Fin. “This isn't you. At least I don't think it is. I hope it's not.” He looked at her, his chest hurting, and the hurt making him feel angry. “Why do you do this?”

Eleni frowned. “I don't know what you think I'm doing.”

“This,” said Fin, motioning around her face. “This mask. This way that makes things easier for you. You pretend you don't care about everything, Eleni. But that's not how it really is.”

She swallowed and took a step back. She shook her head, but there was fear behind her eyes. “I don't know what you mean. We should go now.”

“Loki has waited for us this long, he'll wait a moment longer. If I'm going to go to my death, at least I'll die knowing.” Eleni looked away from him. “Eleni, you told me things you've never told anyone else,” said Fin, his anger rising. “Why do you pretend you don't know me now?”

“Stop,” said Eleni. “Please. Do not ask me any more. You do not understand.” She turned to walk away.

“Answer me!” Fin felt the tightness in his chest like something boring into his heart.
Eleni turned quickly, her fists closed as though ready to fight. “I told you to stop asking,” she said, her voice sounding low and hollow. Flames rose from her fists and flickered in her eyes. She was stronger, stronger than she had ever been. And she had been powerful to begin with. Fin knew he should ease back, he should leave her alone, he should just shut his mouth. His arm ached under the dressing where her body had burned him. He healed quickly, but the burn had been deep. But he couldn't stop. Not this time. He felt out of control. He had felt this way once before and it had as good as killed him. He wouldn't die again. He wouldn't allow Eleni to push him away. Not when he knew she needed him perhaps more than he needed her. She was like thin ice about to crack. And if it killed him, so be it. But he was not going to let her go through this alone. She had done that already, he knew only a small part of what she had been through, but that was enough.

“Kill me if you have to,” he said, his throat dry and hoarse. “But you don't have to do this. Not alone. Not ever again.” The anger was ebbing away from him as she stood looking at him. He shook his head. “I'll die for you, Eleni. Don't you understand? Happily and without regret.”

Eleni blinked and her eyes cleared, the fire hissing and leaving trails of smoke in the air, dissipating as quickly as they had formed. The fire stayed in her fists, but Fin could see the flames were smaller than before.

“I don't expect anything from you,” said Fin. “Only the truth.”

Eleni let her fists open and the fire seemed to absorb into her palms. Her mouth moved like she was trying speak but couldn't. She closed her eyes and breathed in. She opened her eyes, and Fin watched a single tear slide down her cheek, evaporating to steam before it could fall. “I can't,” she whispered finally. “They all say that it can never be. It's best to leave it. Just leave me be. I'm not for you.”

“Leave what be?” Fin was close enough to smell the smoke of her hair, almost close enough to touch.

“I'm not supposed to feel,” she said. “It makes it harder.”

“Harder to what?” said Fin. “Please, Eleni. You have to tell me.” He stepped forward and she didn't shrink away. He took her hands. “Please.”

“Harder to die,” she said softly. As though she was very, very tired and had nothing left to give. She met his eyes. “How I feel makes it harder to die.”

“Why do you think you have to die?” said Fin. “Did Magda tell you that?”

“No,” said Eleni. She hesitated. “Danai,” she said. “It was Danai. She came to me. After I remembered.” Eleni looked up at him. “I will die, Fin. And they all say it makes me weak. I saw this...she said she was a Sirin.”

“You saw a Sirin?” said Fin, surprised. “I didn't think they were real.”

“She knew me, and then Danai came and said the same things, only she told me why.”

“Why what?”

“Why things that are happening came to be. My mother. She's not my mother, I know that now, but she changed things. She changed everything by saving me. And now I have to kill Loki by bringing the Fates together again. When they cut his thread, I'll die too.”

“Why will you die?”

“Because we are intertwined,” said Eleni, as though reciting something she had been repeating over and over, like a child repeating a prayer to the gods.

“If the Fates are so sure, why can't they find each other?” said Fin. “If they're so certain of what you have to do for them, why can't they just do it themselves?”

“I asked Danai that. She said everything was chaos because of what my mo—because of what Anja did. Nothing is as it should be. The threads they weaved are useless now.”

“Then how do they know what your fate is?” said Fin.

“They just know,” said Eleni, her shoulders limp.

“It's not good enough.”

“You're not listening, Fin,” she said. Her mask slipped fully and Fin finally saw the pain that this caused her. The skin around her eyes was so dark it looked bruised. And the look in her eyes was something raw that Fin had never seen on her before. It was pain. He had heard it in her voice, felt it in the way she told him things, but this was what it looked like. “It cannot be. I'm not allowed to have this. Not ever. I'm not even supposed to be alive.”

“No thanks to them,” said Fin. “Eleni, would your mother have sacrificed everything for you if it wasn't important? Why do you think she left you in that village? It makes sense now. It was to save you. To let you live.”

“And now gods are dying.”

“But you're alive. And you are one of the most powerful gods left. Eleni, I've known Magda for a long time. She would do anything to have her power returned to her, and I'm guessing Danai is the same. I've seen Magda lie, and only recently she had an entire village slaughtered to get her way. You remember that, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“You can still find the Fates, if that's what you want to do. You can bring them together to cut Loki's thread if it's what needs to be done. But you don't have to do it alone. Let me stand by you. Let me shoulder the burden with you, Eleni. Please. You've done everything alone. You've felt unimaginable heartache. Let me help you this time.”

“It's going to kill me, Fin,” she said.

“Let that be my burden. If it comes to pass, it comes to pass.”

“If I don't stop Loki, it'll be the end of the world. Ragnarok. I have to stop him. I have to reunite the Sudices.”

“If that is what you must do, then it is what I must do as well. From now on, you are not alone. Do you understand? Even if you want me to leave you, I won't do it. You deserve so much more than this. I will help you, whether you will it or no. I am your shadow and I'll do what I must to help you.”

Eleni shook her head. “It's too much.”

Fin smiled. “It's not. I would do a great deal more. I would do anything.”

When Eleni's lips met his it was like fire. And he wanted very badly to step into the flames.

When they rode out again, Eleni wrapped her arms around Fin and laid her face against his back. Fin set his jaw as he put his heels into Epona. He could feel Eleni's heat through his thick clothing. Powerful or not, he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. She had done enough for a lifetime. But as they got closer to their destination, he couldn't help but wonder: What if Danai was telling the truth?

Chapter Eighteen

Magda stood up straight for the first time in years. It was curious. The moment she had put Eleni's necklace over her head, she had felt a surge of power come back to her. She still didn't know what sort of magic was inside the bauble, but she didn't have time to contemplate it now. She could feel the creatures of the forest around them.

“Find him,” Magda commanded, feeling stronger than she had in ten winters. The Reiver woman just shook her head. She was crying, snot leaking out of her nose. Magda couldn't look at her. The weakness irritated.

“Grandmother,” the woman whined. “I told you, I've looked everywhere. He's not here. He left us.”

Magda scowled. “Go look again,” she growled. “Find Marowit. He must be somewhere. He wouldn't have just...” She stopped in mid-sentence. Would he have? Would he have betrayed his brothers and sisters so easily? Perhaps. Magda had always found Marowit unsettling, but the idea that he would deceive them all had never crossed her mind. The woman was staring at Magda. “Just go,” Magda said. The woman didn't need any more motivation. She scrambled to her feet and ran out of Magda's tent.

She could feel them approaching, all the dark creatures. Fin's presence had kept them at bay before, and to a lesser degree Eleni, but now they were coming to feed. Magda wasn't exactly sure what would happen to her if she was eaten by dark things, but she was not about to find out. They would have to fight. She took a deep breath and blew it out, seeing the warmth form a cloud in the frigid air. She opened the flap of her tent and went out.

It was even colder outside, though it was almost worth it to breathe the fresh smell of new snow instead of the smell of rancid, moldy leather of the tent. Everyone that had been left behind was huddled around the tiny fire at the center of camp. Thirty or so desperate pairs of eyes looked at her as she approached. They wanted her to tell them what to do. Magda looked them over. Skinny and weak and broken of spirit. There were a few old men who hung back, letting the women warm the children.

“Gather the weapons,” said Magda, with finality in her voice. “All the bows, the falxes, knives, even sharp sticks are better than nothing. Gather them all and bring them back here.” A few women jumped up and headed toward the tents. Magda recognized Iren as one of them. Good girl. As she had expected, most of the women froze, staring at her in horror.

“Grandmother, I have much respect for you,” said a slight woman holding a small child. The little girl in her arms wasn't even crying, but just laid her head weakly on her mother's neck. Magda remembered the woman. She was Elek's wife, and usually directed the other women in the daily chores. A girl-child she knew as Rika, who Fin was fond of, clung to her leg. Magda squinted at her as she tried to remember the woman's name. Katalin, that was it. “This is not the right way of things,” Katalin was saying. “We are forbidden to touch the weapon of a man.”

“You should have thought of that before,” said Magda. “If you'd kept away from your husband's weapon we wouldn't have so many damn children to protect tonight.” There was nervous tittering among the women. Katalin looked affronted. “I do not have time to convince you that there is no life in the way you live, woman,” Magda said. “In fact I care very little for what you do. But I care to keep on living. And at the same time I can help you save your own lives and those of your children.”

“If the gods are to take us on this night, there is little to be done about it,” said a high voice from behind Katalin. A tall woman with limp hair that forever hung around her face had stood up. Magda vaguely recollected seeing her around the camp, but she had no idea who she was.

Magda stepped toward the woman, making her eyes widen. She tried to take a step back but others had crowded around her to hear what Magda was saying. Magda put a crooked finger on the tall woman's chest. She could feel the bones just below the skin. “The gods are out fighting for survival. Fighting something even worse than the dark creatures. Fighting so this evil doesn't come here and slaughter you all. So if you have weapons in your tent, go now and bring them out. Or we will all become foul scat shat out by something that drips slime and smells of carrion.”

The woman pushed through the others and walked quickly toward, Magda guessed, her tent. Others also scattered. Katalin stayed, looking at her defiantly. It was as if she were a different person when faced with doing something for herself. She had always been respectful to Magda, but now, hatred gleamed in her eyes. The old men glared at Magda, too. The ones who understood. A grizzled man with a lame leg stood up from his log with the aid of a walking stick. He had a few strands of hair left that stuck straight up in the air. He could barely walk, but he wobbled over to Magda.

“What do you think, crone? That we will be saved by a bunch of women?” he wheezed. He tried to laugh but only coughed.

“You'd better hope to be saved by the women,” said Magda. “They're all you have left.” Magda jutted her jaw out. “And speak to me with respect or I will stop your heart, old man.”

“You haven't the power,” he said, though a bit nervously.

“You don't see me limping, do you?” said Magda. “In fact, I'm feeling very strong. Would you like to test my power? I'm quite curious to see what I can do.” She turned away from him and addressed the women who remained. “If you are not gathering weapons, you will gather wood for the fire. As much as you can get. We will build this fire high.”

“You want us to go out there?” said Katalin, motioning to the woods.

“You're worried now?” said Magda. “How interesting.”

Katalin shifted her child. “We'll die if we go out there.”

“You'll die if you don't go out there,” said Magda.

“I suppose you're going to kill me,” said Katalin. “I agree with grandfather. You don't have the power.”

“But I do,” said a voice behind Katalin. There was a long creak as Iren pulled the bow in her hands back. The arrow was pointed at Katalin's face now. “Do as she says, or I'll put an arrow in you.”

“Iren?” said Katalin. “What would your mother say?”

“She'd tell you to stop holding us back and carry your bony arse into those woods so we can build this fire,” said another voice that had joined Iren. Magda recognized it at Iren's mother, Jlona, holding a falx in each hand as if they were dead animals. “My daughter will have a future. I won't let her die.”

“The old men can watch the children,” Magda said, relishing the looks on their faces. Arrogant old sods. “We all have a place on this night. We must all work or we will all die.”

The fire finally roared after a long time of hissing. Magda was sure it would go out from the damp wood. But soon the branches dried out and crackled. Magda called for more wood. No one grumbled any longer. The children gleefully jumped and played by the fire, joyful to be warm at last. Even Magda had to smile a little at their squeals. Though she knew the noises of children would bring other things.

Magda could feel some of her old power coursing through her body. Not nearly as strong as it used to be, but more like herself than at any time since the fire. She could feel the necklace buzzing at her throat. She knew it was casting a light, giving her face a ghostly glow, as she had seen it do to Eleni. She gathered the energy she could feel inside her ribcage. Standing close to the bonfire she raised her hands. As she let the pressure go she felt a sensation like icy cold water trickling from inside her arms. Her hands glowed with an icy-white light. She pushed and the light shot out of her, spreading like an eruption of water, though colder than any river Magda had ever felt. She looked around. The women and old men had frozen and were staring at her in surprise. A light surrounded the camp like a bubble, glowing only at the edges. It wouldn't stop the dark creatures, but it would slow them down. Make them sluggish when they entered.

Magda shook her hands and clenched and unclenched them. The use of power had given her a surge of near-giddiness. She shouldn't overreach; she was not nearly as powerful as she was. But it was a start. She knew one thing: she would not be returning the necklace to a mere fire goddess. This was a magic too powerful to waste on backwoods gods, even a god birthed by a Fate.

Magda looked over at the old man who had challenged her. He was gasping for breath, looking around at the orb that now surrounded them. “Still think I can't stop your heart, old man?” she said.

He tried to speak, but only a wheeze came out. He finally just shook his head slowly, his jaw hanging open.

“Keep gathering wood,” Magda said to the women. “You can go through the light, just be careful of what lies on the other side. This won't stop them, but it will make them slow if they venture into camp.” Magda looked around until her eyes found Iren. “How skilled are you with that bow, child?”

“Good enough,” said Iren. “Eleni said I was good enough to live without a husband if I wanted to.”

Magda shook her head. “These are no husbands, child. If we survive this night, get as far away from these Reivers as you can.” Magda raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever killed a dark creature?” Iren shook her head. “You're going to start tonight. You will stay with me and watch for any movement that isn't human. Understood?”

“What about the women?” said Iren. “Someone has to protect them while they're out gathering sticks.”

“Leave them,” said Magda.

“No,” said Iren, standing up straight. Magda looked at the set of her jaw and the look of rebellion in her eyes.

“You've been spending time with Eleni, that much is certain.” Magda sighed and waved her hand toward the forest. “Very well. Gather them all back here. Tell them to grab what fuel they can for the fire and to return here. We'll protect them if that is what you wish.”

“My mother is out there,” said Iren. “I can't just leave her.”

“Family only holds you back, girl,” said Magda. “I know that more than anyone. I've been stuck here for more moons than I can even count anymore. You are intelligent, girl. Far more than the others. They need you more than you need them.”

“Would you leave your sisters? On purpose?”

“If I could keep all their power?” said Magda. “Perhaps not. I am connected to them in a way that no mortal could understand. I need them. But you do not have that problem. You can leave and keep yourself intact; if you can get out, you should do so. Now go gather your sheep. And tell them not to bleat too loudly.”

The first monster came when the moon was high. The air was cold and the sky was clear, shimmering slightly every now and again from the power spell Magda had cast on the camp. The fire was roaring and sending bright light all around them. The women were huddled by the fire silently, the fear in their eyes as loud as any scream. A few held falxes limply, afraid to even hold the things. Iren was the only one who looked confident, the bow slung over her shoulder. Magda had asked her why she carried so many arrows in her hand.

“It makes me faster.”

“Did Eleni teach you that?” Magda had said. “Or Alaunus?”

“No,” said Iren. “I didn't have anyone to teach me, so I didn't know how it was done. I can notch three arrows to a man's one. I watched Balyn in secret. I am faster.” If any mortals were worth saving, Magda had mused, it was this girl. She was a born warrior. As the dark creature came bursting through the veil of light, Magda was happy to have the girl at her side. She didn't lose her head at the sight of the thing like the others. Most of the women screamed, and one of the old men. But Iren shrugged her bow into her hand and notched an arrow, focused intently on her target.

“It's a vodnik,” Magda said.

“Where do I hit it?” said Iren.

“Everywhere.”

The vodnik had taken the form of a man, his hair hanging soaking wet around his face. His bloated, filmy eyes looked at the women and the thing smiled, revealing dark teeth that, Magda guessed if they could see them in daylight, were probably green. He was naked and water ran down his skin, which was soft and so pale he almost appeared to glow. Like he had been boiled, or left in the water too long. He took a step toward them, frowning as his foot lifted slowly, confused by his inability to move quickly. Normally vodniks were as quick as a fast-moving river.

“Don't let him touch you,” Magda said. “He'll drown you and take you back with him to whatever smelly water hole he's living in. If you have a weapon get ready.”

Iren loosed an arrow. Then another, then another. They thwacked wetly as they hit their target. One in the neck, one in the guts, and the last one in the heart. Water came bursting from the holes the arrows had made, and it slowly fell forward onto the ground.

“Now!” screamed Magda. “Cut off his head!”

Magda rushed at the vodnik, gurgling and shaking as though in convulsions. She raised the blade and brought it down on the soft, pale neck, but hardly made it through the skin. She had used so much energy to protect them that she suddenly found herself weak. Water spurted through the nick she had made in the thing's neck.

“What are you waiting for?” she yelled hoarsely at the women. “Help me, you fools.”

Two women came scuttling over and stared blankly at the thing shaking on the ground. Magda raised her blade again, but before she could bring it down, the curved and hooked blade of a large falx glinted in front of her, slicing through skin, bone and muscle in one swoop. Magda looked up to see Iren wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She was panting. The vodnik lay unmoving, unseeing.

“Very good,” said Magda with no hint of bitterness.

“What do we do with it?” said Iren.

“Burn it,” said Magda. She looked at the women. “I'll leave the task to you all. This girl just saved your lives. Throw the carcass on the fire and be quick about it.”

“What about me?” said Iren, looking overwhelmed now that she realized what she had done. Overwhelmed, but with an excitement in her eye that Magda doubted had ever been there before. There was a sound like tearing and Magda saw a child burst through the veil. A child with red eyes.

“Get your bow,” said Magda.

“That's a little boy,” said one of the women. Magda didn't bother to look to see which one. It didn't matter. “You can't kill a child. Maybe he's just lost.”

The child looked innocently around and smiled, showing impossibly long, sharp teeth that flickered bright in the firelight.

“Not a child,” said Magda. “A kobold.”

Iren had already notched an arrow. When it hit, the kobold uttered an inhuman shriek that made the women put their hands over their ears and close their eyes. This time, one of the women rushed to chop off the thing's head, black blood spurting from its neck. It took four tries, but the woman's efforts finally had results. Magda nodded at her in approval.

“Throw it on the fire,” she called. She looked at Iren. “This will be happening all night. Will you be able to keep it up?”

Iren nodded. “Yes,” she said. Her eyes were dancing.

“Good,” said Magda. “Notch another arrow. I feel another one coming.”

Chapter Nineteen

Eleni and Fin crouched in the trees and looked across the clearing at the village. They had left Epona to graze in the forest.

The village was just as Eleni remembered it, and for a panicked moment it was as if she had never left. At any moment Rastin's voice was going to echo out of the iron walls and she would have to crawl back in her stinking box like an animal. She looked at Fin to reassure herself. They were dead. They were all dead. She looked back at the village. It was completely silent, and not a single light shone from what she could see. What was stranger was that the forest was silent as well. It made her uneasy.

“It's unnatural,” Fin whispered.

“Why is there no noise coming from the forest?” said Eleni. “What has he done?”

Fin shook his head. “I don't know. But we should go down to the riverbank. Your family will be here soon.”

“How?” said Eleni. “We rode a horse, running the whole way.”

“The gods are fast,” said Fin.

“I'm not,” said Eleni.

“You're faster than you know,” he said. “Since you remembered I'm sure you move just as quickly. Let's go before we're seen.”

It was eerie standing still and hearing absolutely nothing from the forest. It was even worse walking through the trees and hearing nothing but the sound of their footsteps in the snow; Fin's boots creaking as they made their way along, and the slight hissing of Eleni's feet through the ankle-deep drifts that had made their way through the canopy. Not a bird's song or the scrabbling of a rodent could be heard. Nothing. Only the sound of their steps.

They arrived at the riverbank. There was ice along the edges, but the water was still crashing its way along as it always did. The air took on an earthy, clean smell here. It was different than the smell of snow, though that was here too. Eleni crouched down and cupped her hands, drinking from the icy, rushing water. She looked at Fin. He was frowning into the forest. He mumbled something to himself.

“What?” said Eleni.

He looked at her, the frown still on his face. “It's not right,” he said. “Something's wrong here. Why did Loki wait so long? Why didn't he just come and get you?”

“I don't know,” said Eleni.

“Where are the signs of life? Even the evergreens are dying.”

Eleni hadn't noticed, but as she looked up she could see the higher branches of every tree was trimmed in brown. Suddenly she clenched her fists.

“Someone's here,” she said.

“It's too early,” said Fin, turning and squinting into the darkness. “Eleni, where is the wolf?”

“I don't know. She comes and goes as she wishes.”

“I've never seen her leave your side for so long,” said Fin. “What is this? What's happening?”

The rushing sound of the river filled her ears. Fin was talking, but the water was crashing so loudly she couldn't hear him. She shook her head. Fin looked at the river, hardly more than a stream a moment ago. The water was coming faster, carrying large branches and other detritus in its wake. There was a rumbling under their feet and Eleni felt cold water trickle over her toes. The river was flooding slowly over the bank, running in rivulets along the ground, making paths through the blanket of snow on the ground.

Eleni peered into the darkness. She could probably see a good deal better than Fin, but she saw nothing. She could feel something moving around, though. She opened a palm and let the fire rise up. The area became illuminated, and Eleni saw something flash in the forest beyond: a pair of red eyes.

The eyes were soon joined by a nightmare face, moving toward her, lumbering on two legs through the bushes and low-growing branches. It was huge, bigger than anything Eleni had ever seen. It was at least twice her height, with matted brown fur and a face criss-crossed with scars where the fur did not grow. Its short snout was almost wolf-like, and a trickle of slaver ran out from between its rows upon rows of sharp teeth that jutted out the sides of its lipless mouth. Another one emerged on the other side of the bank, its evil eyes on Fin. And right in the center, a man walked easily through the brush and leaned against the trunk of a tree. Eleni knew him.

“Loki,” she said.

“Oh, you know me, do you?” he said, folding his arms across his bare chest. He was wearing trousers in the style of the Krasna men from Eleni's village. A large pouch hung from his waist, weighted by its contents. His feet were bare, like his chest, but he didn't seem to be bothered by the snow or the ice-cold water that was beginning to wash across the ground. “You must have started remembering then. Odd thing, that, is it not?”

Eleni made her hands into fists, keeping the fire burning in one and setting the other one aflame. She could feel the power building up inside her arms and chest and belly. It was more than she had ever felt before. She was stronger than she had ever been. Her vision went slightly red and she knew the fire was there, too. It scared her, but it was a welcome fear.

“What is this, Loki?” said Fin. “Why are you here?”

“Have you not heard?” said Loki. His silver hair shone in Eleni's light. It hung in two plaits on either side of his head and down his chest. “I'm collecting gods.”

“To start Ragnarok,” said Eleni. “The end of the world.”

“Almost right, ” he said, smiling. “Not the end of the world. Just the start of a new world without all the people and gods mucking it up.” He studied Eleni. “I think you'd like it, little goddess. You should come with me.” Eleni snorted.

“You can't start Ragnarok,” said Fin. “Ragnarok has an order. You can't just bring it on because you want it to happen.”

“Oh, you mean how Fenrir eats Odin and Baldur and all that rubbish? None of that is necessary. Not anymore. There is no order any longer, Alaunus. Only chaos. And deep darkness to get it started. I only need to make the world cold, and the rest will follow. The Fates are separated, the world is teetering on the brink of destruction, and no one can stop it. And all, from what I understand, because of one godling that everyone just kept saving.” He looked at Eleni. “All worth it, if you want my opinion. She is a vision. And all that rage. It must have taken a lot of restraint not to kill those villagers when they first put you in that box. Because I can feel you like a furnace from here.” He looked back at Fin. “I would just kill to have you on my side.”

“You won't touch me,” said Eleni.

Loki smiled again. “I don't want to touch you, dearest. I want to teach you.”

“Enough,” said Fin through gritted teeth. He raised his hands. The trees on either side of Loki sprang from the ground, growing at dizzying speeds. The trunks wrapped themselves tight around the chaos god and Eleni could hear him grunt from the pressure. A sound like wood cracking against itself rent the still, quiet air and Eleni couldn't see Loki any longer. The two beasts continued to stare at them, unfazed by what was happening to their master, or whatever Loki was to them. Uncle, Eleni remembered, at the same time she remembered their names: Hati and Skoll, sons of Fenrir, the wolf god of the North.

A heartbeat passed, then another. Eleni could hear hers pounding in her ears, ready for the creature to pounce her. Another crack of wood. Then a sound like a low hum. The earth beneath their feet began to shake. A gentle rumble at first, then so violently that Eleni had to crouch slightly to keep her balance. The trees on either side the place Loki had disappeared began to tumble over, falling back with deafening crashes that brought several other trees down with them. The shaking grew more intense until Eleni was sure the earth would open up and swallow them. Suddenly, with a sound that was louder than anything she had ever heard, the trunks that had imprisoned Loki exploded into pieces that flew through the air. Eleni ducked as part of a log flew by her head and splashed in the water.

The ground stopped shaking, the humming ceased, and Loki was standing the same place he had been, without a scratch on him. He brushed bits of wood off his shoulder. He looked at Fin and smiled. “Kill him,” he said.

The two beasts moved toward Fin ominously, their steps heavy and awkward. Eleni moved toward Fin, placing herself between him and the beast that had been watching her. The thing snarled at her, growling low in his throat. Eleni pushed at the fire in her chest, sending it down through her arms. It was so strong even she could feel it burning, flowing down through her veins and her muscle and bone and skin. The sleeves of her dress fluttered away on either side of her, reduced to bits of ash. The beast hesitated. Eleni could hardly see, the world had changed into one big bonfire. And the inside of her head felt like it was an enormous cinder, burning the inside of her skull with the heat. She could feel her hair giving off sparks.

“Fin,” she said, her voice thick in her ears. “I can't control it.”

“Don't worry about me, Eleni. Just kill Loki.”

“I think it might kill me if I let it go. I'm going to burn up.”

“You won't burn,” said Fin. “It's who you are.”

Loki shouted something at her, smiling genially, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. The flames were in her ears now. All she could hear was the roaring of the fire. She could see Loki watching her, his eyes wide with interest, as if entertained by what was happening.

The beast came at her all at once, rushing towards her so fast that she could only see him as a blur. She held out one hand to stop him, surprised by the sudden attack. It jumped, rising up dizzyingly high, a high-pitched screech audible above the sound of the fire in her ears. It hurled itself toward Eleni, red eyes a blur through the darkness of the night. Eleni put out her hand as its maw opened wide and white teeth flashed.

“Stop,” Eleni said softly. There was a burst of light in her head and she was blind in the brightness of it. Everything went silent. There was no fire roaring in her ears, no werewolf shrieking; nothing. A sensation bloomed in her chest, an intense heaviness that seemed to want to rush out of her. For a moment Eleni thought her heart would burst. It stayed there, choking her, making her unable to breathe, to feel, to think of anything but the crushing inside her chest. And then it was gone, rushing out through her and she felt only pain.

She screamed as the power coursed out of her chest and through her arms. It scrabbled against her insides as it went like a thousand tiny knives, tearing her up inside, burning its way as it went. She remembered this now. The pain, the crushing sensation. It had been this way before. And the last time she had done it, Perun had been there, reversing the power and directing it back against Zaric. But she couldn't think of that now. She had to hang on, to harness the power. She was vaguely aware of screaming, more than one voice shrieking as the sound returned to her ears. She felt the fire wrapping itself around her body, almost caressing her, as it coursed out of her hands. Her vision darkened slightly, and she could see again.

The world had become silent again. So silent that it hurt. Everything hurt, but she couldn't understand why there was no sound. Then her vision returned in full, and she saw. It took every bit of control not to scream, but she managed to swallow it down. Her mouth tasted of ash. A smell rose to her nostrils and it was like burning the village all over again. Only this time, she had had no control over it.

The river had turned black and was hardly a trickle. Great trees that had moments ago stretched up to the heavens were reduced to charred stumps, barely rising out of the ground. The beast, Hati or Skoll, it didn't matter which, was gone, his blackened ribcage on the ground. Eleni saw parts of him, black and smoking, scattered all over the ground. She looked around for Fin, but couldn't see him. The other beast was lying behind her, half his face blown off, and his skull and meat charred. He wasn't as bad as his brother and Eleni could see him breathing. Just barely, but his chest was rising and falling, she was sure of it.

Loki stepped out from the edge of the burnt landscape where he must have stepped back. He was staring at her with an expression Eleni didn't understand. It wasn't fear or hate. Then he smiled.

“I'm quite sure,” he breathed, “that was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Eleni then understood the look on his face. It was awe.

“Fin,” Eleni said, her voice cracking. Every bit of moisture had left her body. She staggered, almost losing her balance.

“Alaunus?” said Loki, raising an eyebrow. “He ran that way.” Loki didn't take his eyes from her, but gestured past the still-breathing monster. “He still lives, though I think it is a close thing.” He took a step toward Eleni. “Why you chose him I'll never know. An order god.” There was venom in his voice. “You could have so much more. You could have everything.”

Eleni raised an arm heavily, her palm toward Loki. “Do not come near me,” she said, her voice husky.

Loki looked at her with an almost gentleness. He walked toward her. “I would be very surprised if you still had power within you. An impressive display, but you must remember that you are very young.” Eleni tried to bring a flame into her hand, but managed nothing but a spark. She tried again. “You see?” said Loki, reaching out to her. Eleni tried to back away, but he had edged an arm around her waist. With the other he stroked her cheek. “Stay with me, Eleni,” he whispered. “I can do so much for you.”

Eleni closed her eyes, trying to swallow, but finding she couldn't even do that. She was fighting unconsciousness, the edges of her vision threateningly dark. “Why?” she finally managed.

“Why?” said Loki. “You are incredible. So full of chaos and anger and an unending desire to be loved. I can love you, Eleni, if you'll let me. We would be good together, you and I. Unstoppable.”

“No,” Eleni said weakly, her throat raw and painful. “Why Ragnarok?”

Loki smiled. “The end of this world? The end of suffering and death and gods bickering and humans poisoning everything they touch? You could stop it all with me. You and I and a fresh new world.” His face was very close to Eleni's. “Please,” he said. “You could make the world into anything you like. You can hunt for the rest of your life if you want. Or I can make you a great fortress where you could lie and drink wine all day long. Anything you want. Anywhere you want.”

Eleni turned her head and saw a lump on the ground. It wasn't moving. “Fin,” she said, without meaning to. Loki had said he was alive, but he could be lying. Eleni looked back at Loki. He was frowning like Eleni had hurt him somehow.

“Forget Alaunus,” said Loki. “He has no power. No grace. I can look like him if you want me to.” Loki began to change in front of her eyes. He broadened, his shoulders widened, his hair changed from silver to dark brown and stubble grew into a beard on his chin. His long, thin nose became slightly bent. He blinked and violet eyes became dark. It was Fin.

“Stop it,” said Eleni.

“Come with me, Eleni,” said Loki. It wasn't Fin's voice, but the way he looked was disarming.

“No,” said Eleni, closing her eyes again. She had grown dizzy. “I can't.”

“No,” Loki repeated. He looked grieved when Eleni opened her eyes. In seconds he had changed form again, back to his own face, his own lithe body, his silver hair smoothing over his shoulders. He shook his head. “Go to him, then,” he said, slowly taking his arm from around her waist. She staggered as the support was gone. “Go to your little god. I won't force you to come with me. You will soon tire of him.” Eleni made her way to the lump on the ground, weaving and occasionally falling. “This is what you call mercy,” Loki called after her. “You'll be begging for it later, when the world is a flood. You'll be screaming for my mercy. I did not kill you or the order god. You should be grateful.”

Eleni fell on top of Fin's body. He was burned on one side, his right arm seared, the skin black and oozing liquid. His neck was in bad shape too. Eleni couldn't even raise herself up in order to help him. But as she lay upon him, she felt movement. He was breathing. She allowed herself to breathe then, too. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath. Fin was alive; she hadn't killed him. Not quite, anyway.

She turned her head to look at Loki who, to her confusion, was looking into the forest expectantly. He smiled. He looked over at Eleni, a look of satisfaction on his face. “They're coming,” he said. “Can you hear them? Stomping their way through the forest.”

“How did you know?” Eleni whispered.

“That you would be here?” said Loki. “The answer is simple: never trust the god of nightmares. He is probably halfway to the underworld by now, the coward. But not to worry. I killed him. I didn't come for you, though, Eleni. Not really. You would just be an unexpected prize in addition to what I'm really here for.”

“What?” Eleni managed to lift her head up.

“You were the bait, my sweet girl,” said Loki, looking into the forest again. “You were never my target. I admit to a bit of sentimentality.” He looked at her. “You're very beautiful and very...shattered. I feel a certain kindredness towards you. But you are not the one I seek.”

“Who?” said Eleni.

“She's coming now,” said Loki, giddiness in his voice. “I've searched the world for her. She disguises herself very well. But like everyone who lays eyes on you, she has a weakness. Poor little fire goddess. So sweet and broken and full of power. You're like honey, Eleni, you really are. I can see it now, though. Perhaps someday you'll be my weakness too.” He frowned. “Perhaps I should destroy you before you can creep your way into my head.” He took a step toward her. “Cut off the limb before it rots.” He stopped. “But, no. I can see now you've already wriggled into my head. It's a tight fit, is it not? So many voices in there. Such glorious chaos.”

There was a deep growl and the wolf, Eleni's wolf, stepped out of the forest, nearly as tall as Loki's chest. The gold eyes glowed brightly. The wolf's face was a snarl and it stalked toward Loki menacingly. But instead of backing away from the fearsome animal, Loki laughed delightedly.

“Daja, you are disappointingly predictable. Aren't there too many wolves running about? Don't you think it's time for the little goddess to find out who her loyal animal friend really is? A liar.”

The wolf looked round at Eleni, then back at Loki. In one smooth move, there suddenly wasn't a wolf standing there any longer, but a tall, naked woman with straight black hair that cascaded down her back, lower than her waist. Eleni stared for a long time. The woman looked round and her eyes were golden and shining like beams of light. Her body glowed softly, the same color as her eyes. Eleni had suspected that the she-wolf was not a normal wolf, but was still shocked.

“I'm sorry, Eleni,” the woman said, her voice deep, like a growl. “It was the only way to watch over you.”

“Who are you?” Eleni croaked.

“Just know that I came to love you,” said the woman. She turned back to Loki. “You cannot possibly think that a little chaos gnat could kill me. Even if you do take my essence, swallowing my soul would burn you up from the inside in the beat of a heart. Don't be foolish, little god.”

“Eleni,” said Loki, without taking his eyes from the woman. “This is Daja. She is the incarnation of the sun god. Your she-wolf. ”

“She saved my life,” whispered Eleni, remembering. She had been a small child thrust into the wilderness when she had met the wolf. Or Daja, as she was called.

“Does it not make you angry, Eleni?” said Loki. “Your friend betrayed you.”

“I helped her,” said Daja. “I stayed by her side when she had nothing else.”

“I'm not angry,” Eleni said, her voice hardly above a breath. She was losing her grasp. The darkness that had threatened the edges of her consciousness were creeping in closer and closer. “Leave her alone.” She held her hand out limply and a tiny tendril of fire rose from it like a bright little worm. It was the last of her energy. Her head lolled and sank on top of Fin. Just as her eyes were closing, she saw Daja grow bright, as bright as the sun, turning the dark riverbank to day in the middle of the night. And Loki was laughing.

Chapter Twenty

The light was dazzling. Even Loki, who had seen the souls of every sort of god on the planet had to shield his eyes. But he laughed as he did it.

“Laughing is the last thing you will do, chaos god,” Daja's voice whispered into his head. “There will be nothing left of you.”

The snow was beginning to fall once more. Heavily, with flakes the size of a fingernail wetting Loki's hair and melting down his neck. He was aware of everything. He had absorbed Marowit such a short time ago. It had given him strength, though it left a rancid taste in the back of his throat that would not subside. He was aware of Eleni and her pet, the order god, breathing shallowly on the edge of the clearing. He could sense the movement of Hati, awakening from unconsciousness. It would be a shock to find half his face missing. He could feel the ground shaking with the local gods and Reapers storming his way, only a short way off now.

And this beautiful creature in front of him. She was gathering her energy, only a fraction of what she was capable of during the day. The sun goddess of this loathsome region was the real reason he had waited in a stinking cottage in the middle of nowhere for days. Marowit said they all thought Loki was here for Eleni, the fire goddess. Such a pretty little thing. Like a poisonous flower. He was tempted to take her with him, whether she consented or not. But an angry fire goddess was not something he had time to deal with right now.

He reached into his pouch and pulled out the heavy object he had concealed even from his own grandsons. They wouldn't understand the power of the thing, just as they didn't understand the power of the bone horn. They simply wanted the power, the brute strength it gave them. But there was a dark beauty to all they had done, to what he was doing right now. Daja was expanding now, a ball of fire. So bright that it would be heartbreaking to douse her. But it must be done. He turned the blade back and forth, admiring the carvings etched into the bone blade.

The heat radiating from Daja seemed to falter. The light flickered. Loki sensed her fear.

“Where did you get that?” her voice uttered into his head. It was so soft it was almost like a shiver.

“I have made some powerful friends of late,” Loki said. “They give me the most amazing gifts.”

“No,” said Daja. Her light was becoming more of an effervescent glow. “Why are you not burning?”

“A benefit of holding your former self in my hand,” said Loki, looking at the blade, the bone almost brown with age. He looked up at Daja. “Or part of you, at any rate.”

“Bones or no,” Daja said, “you cannot absorb my essence. You are too small. It will burn through you like embers through a dry leaf.” Her fear was growing. She took a step back. “And when I am reborn, my only goal will be to pursue you. I will not kill you, Loki. I will burn a different part of your body every day. You will think Odin's creative torture was bliss compared to what I will do to you in my next life.”

“Well, I cannot have that,” said Loki. With his other hand he took out the carved horn and tossed it into the air, catching it easily. “My friends also made this for me. It came in very handy with the other gods, but that's not what it was made for. Any god's essence will only stay inside temporarily. Any god's essence but yours, my lovely, lovely Daja. I have more hidden away. Each horn made from a different bone.”

“Why would you do this? I have never hurt you, Loki. I even asked Odin to reconsider his decision to imprison you.”

“It has nothing whatsoever to do with you,” said Loki. “I do find it regrettable to destroy such a charming goddess. So sweet and kind. And yet, you are the weakest of the sun gods. So I must take you first.” He smiled sadly. “Tragic, I know. But in the end it will all be worth it. There will be no more fighting. Peace at last.”

“You mean there will be no one to fight you.”

He shrugged, with a small smile.

“You're mad, Loki. You were always strange to me, but you're different now. Please try to remember. This isn't right.”

“What I remember is my wife dying trying to keep me from any more pain,” Loki said through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes and let the anger pass, then smiled again. “It's true I no longer loved her, but it was not right for her to suffer. She did nothing to Odin. But I am more generous than him. It will be quick. Your pain will not last for long. You have my word.” He laughed softly. “You forest gods really should carry weapons for when your power fails you.”

“It has never failed me before,” Daja said, her voice a sigh in his skull. She looked round at Eleni. She was stirring. “Don't hurt the girl,” she said, her eyes pleading.

“I am going to end the world,” said Loki. “What is a little goddess to you? They will all die.”

“Then leave her,” said Daja. “Let her die with the others.”

“Goodbye, Daja,” said Loki. “I have enjoyed our little talk.”

Daja didn't even have time to scream before the sword was inside her. Loki cried out as Daja's blood covered his hand, smoke and steam rising from the burns. He hurriedly rubbed it with snow from the ground. It burned and throbbed, hurting like no wound he had ever sustained. The blood of the sun. The thought made him smile, even as his breath was sharp from the pain. He looked at the source of the blood. Daja was twitching, the bone blade protruding from her gut like a flag. Her movements were growing slower. Blood was sinking into the earth, the acrid smell from the wet earth underneath her burning, despite the moisture, when touched by the blood.

A faint glow was beginning to protrude from Daja's mouth, still open in horror. It was bright, so much brighter than the other gods' souls had been. He knelt next to her. She was dead. The glow in her mouth was growing brighter. He had to take it now. He sensed movement nearby where Eleni had collapsed, but he made himself ignore it. He opened the flask and said the words. The symbols on the bone glowed and the essence bubbling out of Daja was pulled in a thin trickle into the flask. He replaced the stopper in the flask. The voice would tell him what to do next. He just had to wait. The voice would come. It always did.

Loki felt eyes on him. He looked over to see Eleni, barely conscious, watching him. She appeared to be too weak to move. But her eyes, as cold as the snow that was falling thicker and faster every passing breath, were on him, watching him. He could stay in those eyes.

“I had to,” he said. “Please don't hate me. I couldn't stand it if you hated me.” Eleni blinked in confusion, as though she didn't understand. “I'll come for you if you change your mind. But I cannot force you to love me. You and I are...” he trailed off, sadness making his guts cold. He forced it away and made himself smile. He stood up. “Please don't watch. What's going to happen next is ugly. But I have to, you see? He told me it had to be this way.”

She was still watching him, she didn't take her eyes from him. She would change her mind, he was sure of it. She would understand. He had to do this. There was no other way. He smiled. He felt them coming, all the gods. They had shunned him before. Left him to rot. They would pay now. He would never harm Eleni, but all of the others would die. The voice had promised to end them all for good. He would have loved to bottle them up, to absorb their power, but he couldn't uncork the flask. Daja's soul was too important.

Loki readied himself. They were talking quietly as they came. He felt the heavy, clumsy steps of the Reivers, the softer, more refined steps of the gods. He gathered the power in his chest.

The Reivers came first, unassuming, some wielding their falxes. Loki felt the power surge from his chest, felt his skin and bone open up to let out the terrible power that opened up the earth and sucked every last Reiver down. Loki was sure they screamed, but he couldn't hear their voices over his own. The pain was worse than anything that he had ever felt before. The power was new, and he knew it would hurt, but this was not pain. This was sickness, agony, every malady that had ever been, every hurt that had ever been experienced. This was a torch to his soul. The voice had not told him it would be this bad. Only that he would need the power of the gods to survive it.

The hole in the earth went down deep, deeper than he could fathom, to the middle of the earth. Steam rose and after a moment it was like the Reivers had never been. He could feel the cold wind on his exposed heart. It was beating, he could hear it, feel it the crackle of it as the frigid wind froze the blood inside his open chest. He wanted to scream again, but the gods were standing at the edge of the chasm, looking at him. That look, the same look Odin had all that time ago. It was like it was happening again. He wanted to run away. He could become a rabbit, or a great falcon and fly far, far away. This suffering would be over. Perhaps the voice couldn't find him if he stayed as an animal.

But the pounding started in his head. He was here, he was watching. He was always watching. Finish it, Loki. Send them to me.

Loki let the power go again, unable even to scream this time. His pain was so intense that even a scream couldn't touch it. He was voiceless, breathless in his pain. He felt the ground crack, and for a moment thought the voice would bring him down, too, that the final joke would be to kill him after all he had done. He squeezed his eyes tight. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. If the voice was still in his head, he couldn't even feel that. And then the power was gone. He knew it was only temporary. It would be back. But for now, he was free. Even if it was just for a time.

He felt his chest close, his heart warming, his muscle, skin and bone knitting themselves back together. The rush of blood gave him a surge of light-headedness. The pounding in his head was gone. The noise was gone. He opened his eyes. Even the gods were gone with their accusing eyes. The ground had even mended itself. It was as though he had imagined everything. Except for one thing. He turned to look at Eleni. She was forcing herself up to a sitting position, tears streaming into steam. She was like a painting he had seen once in the South. He had cried at its sad beauty. He stepped away from her, even though he wanted badly to go to her, perhaps to comfort her, or to have her comfort him. But he knew the time was not right. Not yet.

Hati was standing now, weaving slightly, but standing. He was uglier than he had been. Loki felt nothing for the death of Skoll. He knew he should feel something for family, but they weren't really family. They were useful abominations.

“I have one more task for you,” said Loki. He looked back at Eleni. “One more task and you may return to the North. Do you understand?”

Hati nodded slowly, the motion making him flinch.

Loki leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. Then he used every last ounce of energy to change his body. The cracking and reordering of bones was nothing compared to what he had just done. The pain of shifting was almost like a warm caress compared to the torturous power that had been given to him. He gripped the flask in his talons and with a flap of wings he was soaring in the air, toward home. At last.

Chapter Twenty-One

Eleni slept. She didn't know how long. She dreamed of a handsome, thin man with hair the color of the stars who opened his ribcage like two doors and took out his still-beating heart. “It's yours,” the man said. Just as she took the heart and was raising it to her lips, her teeth puncturing the warmth, the taste of blood in her mouth, she woke with a start.

There were ravens everywhere. They stared at her with their odd, fishy eyes. Eleni recognized them as Magda's ravens. The ravens had surprised her so much that it took a moment before she realized that she was no longer outside by the riverbank. She was in a cot, inside a house. A familiar house. She was in her village. She looked over to see Fin lying on another cot. He was sleeping, his arms and chest bandaged. There was a poultice on one side of his face. Guilt burned in her stomach and bile rose in her throat. She had done this to him. She suddenly felt as though she might be sick, but the hollow weakness she felt told her that she had no food in her body.

She stood up shakily. She wasn't wearing anything under her quilt, so she wrapped it around herself. The raven closest to her bobbed its head left and right at her. She took a step, but the raven hopped in front of her. “Caw!” it screeched at her, making her jump. She sidestepped the raven and another one jumped in her path. Caw! it screamed. In moments every single one of the ravens were shrieking at her, advancing toward her. The noise was piercing in the small room. Eleni covered her ears with her hands, trying to hold the quilt in place under her arms.

The door swung open and Magda walked in. But it wasn't the same Magda Eleni knew. This Magda, though still a crone, was straight-backed. Her good eye was no longer cloudy and the hands at her sides clenched and unclenched with no sign of gnarled fingers.

“Silence,” Magda said quietly. The room was instantly, eerily quiet. The birds closed their beaks and resorted back to staring at Eleni. “I wasn't sure you'd make it, child.”

“I feel fine,” Eleni lied. Her eyes darted to Fin.

“He'll heal. Don't worry,” Magda said. She walked the few steps across the cottage and picked up a bundle from atop a small table. “Iren sent these for you,” she said, handing it to Eleni.

“Iren?” said Eleni. “Iren is here?” She unraveled the bundle to find a dress; red with orange flames sewn into the hem. It reminded Eleni of the robe of the man she and Fin had met in the forest. Cotiso. She wondered if his people had caused her surge of power in the forest. Eleni pulled the dress over her head. There were slits on either side to make for easy movement.

“They're all here,” said Magda gravely. “All the women. We lost one of the old men, and another stayed behind rather than set out with a bunch of women.” There was acid in Magda's tone. “So we have one old man that keeps ordering the girls to undress. They've been putting sleeping herbs in his tea.”

“Magda,” said Eleni, putting a hand on her arm. “In the forest, I...”

Magda frowned. “Let's get some food in you first, girl. Then you can tell me all about it.” Eleni nodded weakly.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Three days. As far as I can tell, anyway. It's not so easy to tell anymore. You must be famished.”

They stepped out of the hut to a confusing sight. There were women everywhere. There was a crowd building a makeshift house over the blackened earth. The frame was tall and long, as if for a great deal of people rather than just a small family. They had their skirts hiked up and tucked into woven leggings as they worked. There was a large fire in the center of town where several women were fixing food, one chopping meat, another stirring the great iron pot over the fire, and another adding wood to the flames. Two women walked by, staring at Eleni, with falxes on their backs. Eleni watched them heading to the ladder that led to the lookout perch at the top of the wall. A dejected group sat with a group of children just out of the glow of the fire, glowering at everyone moving around them. But the most confusing thing of all wasn't the women. It was that it was nighttime.

“Why is everyone out here in the middle of the night?” said Eleni, as she dodged a small child that ran across her path laughing.

“It isn't night,” said Magda slowly.

“Of course it is,” said Eleni. “Just look around.”

“No,” said Magda with a sigh. “The sun has not risen since you left the encampment.”

“Oh,” said Eleni. She looked up at the sky. The stars shone, but she couldn't see the moon.

“Come,” said Magda, taking her arm gently. Eleni felt she was walking through a dream. This couldn't be real. Perhaps the gray nightmare god was playing tricks on her. Magda led her to the fire and one of the girls filled an iron bowl with a hot stew from the pot. Eleni raised it to her lips. She ate hungrily, barely tasting the thick, meaty soup. The girl refilled her bowl when she emptied it, smiling shyly. Eleni ate three bowls of stew before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She nodded at the girls tending to the fire and stealing looks at Eleni out of the corners of their eyes. Eleni turned away from them.

A figure was descending the ladder that led up the iron wall. A thick dark braid swayed as she moved down to the ground. She had a bow slung over her shoulder. She was wearing a man's trousers. She turned round and her eyes widened when she saw Eleni.

“You're awake,” she said happily.

“Hello, Iren,” said Eleni.

“The women listen to Iren,” Magda said in a low voice.

“Why?” said Eleni. The girl didn't look offended, she simply straightened proudly and smiled a small smile.

“Because without her, they would all be dead,” said Magda. Curious eyes were watching them. Eleni could feel them all around her. The hammering of construction had stopped, the sound of chopping ingredients had stopped. “Let us go somewhere private,” said Magda.

“This way,” said Iren, leading them toward one of the few cottages still standing. She opened the door and let Eleni and Magda pass. Eleni looked round. There was a small pile of falxes on one side of the room, and several bows leaned up against the wall. There was an old cot littered with hundreds of newly-made, crude arrows. They sat around an old table in the center of the room.

“I'm teaching some of the women how to shoot,” said Iren when she saw Eleni staring at the arrows. Eleni looked at her and nodded woodenly.

“That's good,” she said. “It will help them survive.”

“Iren,” said Magda. “Would you go have the girls make Eleni some tea? I think it would help her greatly.” Iren nodded, looking disappointed, but went out the door quietly. Magda was staring at Eleni with her good eye. A glow came from under the collar of Magda's dress. Eleni realized she was still wearing the necklace. She looked away from the old woman.

“Tell me,” Magda said at last, her tone demanding. “Please,” she said more gently. “What happened, child?”

“He got away,” said Eleni. Her voice didn't sound like her own. It sounded like it came from far away. “It was Loki. He turned into a falcon and flew away. I couldn't stop him. I wasn't strong enough.”

Magda laid a cool hand over her own. “Eleni, what happened to the gods? To the Reivers? We couldn't find their bodies.”

“There were no bodies,” said Eleni softly. “I don't understand what happened. It couldn't have been real. The wolf...Daja...” Eleni put a hand over her mouth.

“Daja?” said Magda. “Daja the sun goddess? She was there? I have never even seen her.”

“She has always been here,” said Eleni. She could feel her eyes filling with tears. She felt weak and ashamed for crying, but she couldn't stop it. “Daja was the wolf.”

“The wolf? Of course. The wolf,” said Magda.

“She was my friend,” said Eleni. “My only friend. She took care of me as a child. And he just killed her. I didn't care that she was a god. Or whatever she was. She glowed so brightly.”

“Eleni,” said Magda. “Daja is the goddess of the sun. If Loki killed her, then he killed the sun. How did he do it?”

“He had a strange knife. I think it was made of bone. Is that possible?”

Magda was staring at her, shocked. “There is only one thing that could have killed Daja like that. The bones of her former body. But Loki couldn't have had them.”

“Why?” said Eleni.

“Because they are in the Underworld,” said Magda.

“I don't understand what that means,” said Eleni. “Did Loki go to the Underworld to find them?”

“Or someone gave them to him,” said Magda. She suddenly looked like her older, frailer self. They were silent for a long time. “Eleni, why did you say there were no bodies? What happened?”

“Loki. It looked like he opened his chest, and then there was a bright light and the ground cracked open.”

“He opened a chest?”

“No,” said Eleni. She met Magda's eyes. She was suddenly desperate to make her understand. “He opened up his own chest. His ribs spread apart and opened to reveal his organs. I could see his heart beating. And he screamed, he screamed so loudly. And when he stopped screaming, I could hear others screaming.”

“Others?” said Magda. “The gods? The Reivers?”

“No,” said Eleni. “They didn't have time to scream. The screaming came from the crack in the earth, from deep underground, as if there were hundreds of people beneath the earth. And then it just closed up. And after the Reivers were gone, he did it again to the gods. And then everyone was just gone. It was as if they were never there. And I couldn't stop him. I could barely move.”

“What happened to you?”

Eleni shook her head, bitterness filling her mouth. “I had this power. I didn't want to let it go. Fin said it was from mortals.”

“Your worshipers,” said Magda.

“Yes,” said Eleni. “That's what he said. But it was too strong. The wolf-man jumped and I let go. I told Fin to run, and he must have, but I didn't touch Loki. I only killed one of them. I injured the other one, but he walked away after Loki flew. I failed. Everything you wanted me to do, I failed.”

“We will find him, child,” said Magda. “You cannot blame yourself. It was a trap. The only thing we have to do is find my sisters. Understood?” Eleni nodded, looking down at her hands. Magda frowned. “Eleni, why did he let you live?”

“What?”

“You and Fin. Why did he spare you?”

“He was...strange. He kept saying he was sorry, that he had to.” Eleni's voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “He...” She looked up at Magda. “I don't know why, but he seemed to like me, even when I wanted to kill him. He told me I was beautiful. He wanted me to come with him, to be his...I don't know what. He was so sad.”

Magda was quiet for a long moment. “And Fin?” she said. “Why didn't he kill Alaunus?”

“I don't know,” said Eleni. “I laid on top of him when I found him injured. Loki didn't seem interested in killing him. He said he was being generous.”

“Perhaps he was more interested in not hurting you than he was in killing Fin,” said Magda.

“What does it mean?” said Eleni.

Magda looked at her, frowning. “Do you really not know?” Magda sighed. “Loki appears to find himself in love with you. Or at least, as much as he is able to love.”

There was a great clanging outside, muffled through the door. “Perhaps they are trying to pound out that gate again,” said Magda.

The sound came again and the door was thrown open. Iren stood there panting and looking at Eleni with wide eyes.

“What is it, Iren?” said Magda.

She shook her head. “The gate,” she said. “He's here.”

“Who's here?” said Eleni.

“Perun,” said Iren. “The lightning god is at the gate.”

He had pushed his way in through the gate that the Reivers had damaged. Women surrounded him, nervously holding hooked falx blades and thrusting them awkwardly at the unfazed god. Perun walked through them like they weren't even there and moved purposefully toward Eleni. He was immense in size, towering over the women and moving like a man that was used to getting what he wanted. His long white hair flowed behind him in the winter wind and his bushy beard hid his lower face, the only part visible was a full lower lip. His cheeks were pink and youthful-looking.

Iren stepped in front of Eleni, an arrow notched in her bow. “Don't come closer,” she said, pulling the taut string back.

Perun scowled at her. “Begone, gnat,” he said. “Or I'll send a bolt of lightning right through those pretty eyes. I didn't come to kill Zaric.”

Magda put a hand on Iren's arm and pulled her gently out of the way. “Why did you come?” she said. Eleni couldn't take her eyes from the man. Images flashed through her head. Perun's face smiling; Perun kneeling over a freshly-killed Kupalo, her brother; Perun angry with reddened face. And then the way he had killed her. His chest had opened up. Eleni's eyes widened at the memory. His chest had opened and he had screamed and then she had imploded. She had burned. Eleni took a step back.

Perun looked away. Magda looked at her, one sharp eye boring into her, bright even in the darkness. “What is it?” she demanded.

“Just like Loki,” said Eleni.

“What?” said Magda.

“That was how Perun killed me. He opened his chest, just like Loki did in the forest. It's why Loki didn't use that power on Daja. It would have destroyed everything before Ragnarok.”

Magda turned to Perun. She walked up to him and stared up at him. “You are here because you are terrified. All the gods are dead. Except you and Eleni.”

“Who?” he said.

“I am the goddess of fire,” said Eleni. “You killed me.”

“You look a little different,” Perun said, half of a smile on his face. “I'm sorry. I was deluded.” He frowned, becoming serious. “I honestly am sorry for the things I have done. I have come to atone.”

“You helped Loki,” said Eleni. “It started with you. I've seen it with my own eyes. Before we even knew of the god-eaters. It was you.”

“Loki is a lunatic,” said Perun scornfully. “I want nothing to do with him.”

“Lunatics often are far more truthful than certain others,” said Magda. “Eleni has worshipers now. She could easily kill you. Why should we let you live?”

“I'm the only family she has left,” Perun said. “Does that count for anything?”

“No,” said Magda.

Perun sneered at her. “Really, Crone? Because if you kill me, you will never know where to find your maiden sister.”

Magda was silent. Shock showed on her face, an expression Eleni had not seen before. “You know where Danai is?” she whispered.

“My safety in exchange for your sister,” said Perun. “You and the new Zaric, you'll keep me safe. And in return I'll tell you where she is.”

“Is she close?” said Magda.

Perun smiled. “Very.”

“Tell me,” said Magda. “Tell me!”

“Your word,” said Perun. He smiled at Eleni. “And yours, dear sister.”

“No,” said Eleni. She stepped toward him. “You are worse than Loki. It's all your fault. Every single god, every single mortal. These women lost their husbands because of you. Their deaths are on your hands. My death, the fire. Why didn't you come to Magda before if you knew where Danai was?”

“Because I didn't need anything then,” said Perun.

“You are filth,” Eleni growled. She clenched her fists and felt the fire coursing through her.

“Wait,” Magda said, her voice low, squinting at Perun in the dark. Eleni stopped and looked at Magda, her teeth clenched.

“Magda, no,” Eleni said. “We'll find her on our own. She visited me in my dreams, she'll come again.”

“We don't have time,” said Magda, not taking her eyes from Perun. “To stop Loki I need my sisters. I've been looking for 25 winters. I don't have time to look any more. I don't have the will.” Magda glanced at Eleni. “Please, child. Agree to your brother's terms. ”

Eleni narrowed her eyes at Perun. His own hands had clenched and bright veins of electricity was coursing through his fists. “If we agree,” Eleni said, the words like bile in her mouth, “you will tell us everything.”

“Agreed,” said Perun happily. “But first, I would like very much to sleep. Is there somewhere I can lay my head? I haven't slept in days.”

“My sister,” Magda said, her voice low and taut. “Tell me now.”

“Gladly,” said Perun. “I imprisoned her in that necklace you're wearing. My bed?”

“The necklace?” said Eleni looking at the glowing orb around Magda's neck. The old woman reached up to touch it tentatively. “My mother gave me that necklace.”

Perun smiled. “Yes,” he said. “It was quite ingenious. Anja paid me well for a charm that could mask her from her sisters and from the gods. I gave her the necklace. I had imprisoned Danai in it only days earlier. You can't kill these damn Sudices, so I got creative.” He laughed. “She wore her own sister around her neck and didn't think twice about it. Of course, had I known she wanted it to protect you instead of saving her own skin, I would never have given it to her. It's funny, really. My life these long years has been hunting you down. My own brother. My downfall. And it was my own act that kept you hidden from me.” Perun was glaring at Eleni with a hard glint, and after a moment lightning flashed in his eyes, all the brighter in the permanent nighttime that had dawned on them.

Magda was shaking beside Eleni. “You vile scum,” she said. “I will kill you in the most painful way possible. I will weave a thread and make crows peck at your tender parts for centuries to come. I will make your flesh crawl with worms.”

“Now, now,” said Perun. “You promised. Safety.”

After some thought, Eleni led Perun through the dark to the only place she wanted him sleeping. She asked a middle aged woman with graying brown hair to bring several quilts and she led Perun through the gate. It was strange seeing her old prison now. She peered in through the hole she had made in the door the last time she had escaped. She pulled the hatch open with a loud creak and, putting her hands on either side of the door, melted the metal back into place. She looked at Perun.

“Here?” he said. He looked around at the darkness that was almost stifling. “This can't be safe. Put me in the village.”

“So you can try to kill me in my sleep?” said Eleni. “No. It was Magda's decision to help you, but I will say where you are kept. And I say you stay in here. We have lookouts at the top of the gate, and someone will come to check on you and bring you food. You will be safe.”

“You mean to keep me as a prisoner?” Perun said, surprised. Then he smiled. “You've changed, Zaric. I quite like the way your new mind works.”

“My name is Eleni. You would do well to remember that.”

“Of course,” he said. “I'm not going in there, though.”

“You will,” said Eleni. “If you want my protection, Magda's protection, you will stay here. I don't have time to hold your hand. Take your blankets and get in the box.”

Perun glared at her. He roughly pulled the blankets from the woman standing behind him. “I can kill you again, Zaric. Make no mistake.” He ducked under the low door and into the black darkness of the box.

“Perhaps,” said Eleni. “But right now you need my help.” She closed the hatch harder than was necessary and hoped it hurt his ears. Then she walked with the woman back into the village. The woman stole glances at Eleni as they walked.

Eleni returned to Iren's house to find Fin sitting at the table with Magda, a candle flickering dimly on their grave faces.

“Are you all right?” Eleni said.

“I'm fine,” he said. “I woke and tried to get out of the bed, and a girl came to help me. I heard Perun outside.” He winced as he shifted his weight on the chair.

“I'm sorry,” Eleni said.

“For what?”

“I injured you. I didn't mean to.”

“It was a battle,” Fin shrugged. “We're alive.”

“Can we focus on what's important?” Magda said testily.

Eleni sat down next to Fin. The necklace was on the table, radiating power, the little bolts inside latticing inside and casting a pale glow all around it.

“Why didn't I see it? Of course Perun made it,” said Magda. “I've been wearing my sister as a bauble for days. It makes me sick.”

“We all should have seen it,” Eleni said.

“How do we get her out?” said Fin.

“Perun claims not to know,” said Magda.

“So Danai is actually inside this little bubble?” said Eleni, picking up the necklace gingerly. “How?”

“It would take great magic,” said Magda. “Possibly from the same place they acquired the power that opens their chests. I should have asked Perun. But the urge to kill him was too strong. I couldn't look at him.”

“What has happened?” said Fin.

While Magda recounted events, Eleni peered inside the necklace. She rolled it in between her fingers. Magda was staring at her. “Please be careful, child,” she said, sounding nervous. Eleni looked at her.

“I know how to get her out,” Eleni said.

“How?” said Fin.

Fin and Magda stared at Eleni in horror as she raised the necklace above her head. Magda's mouth opened and closed like she wanted to scream at Eleni but no words came out. Fin shook his head. Eleni let the bauble fall, watching it sparkle through the air as it fell. A sound like stone shattering against stone rent the air dully in the small house.

“What have you done?” Magda finally croaked.

“Eleni,” Fin said, his voice a whisper. The necklace lay on the ground in tiny pieces of clear nothingness. A broken bubble.

Eleni held up a hand. “Wait,” she said.

There was a spark. Then another. Electricity bloomed from the broken necklace like a flower. Small at first, but with each pulse, the bloom grew bigger. Eleni could feel the power in her chest. It made it hard to breathe. The blossom of lightning became a round, glowing orb the size of a man's fist. It began to buzz and vibrate and, as the three of them watched, elongate.

“What is happening?” said Fin.

Magda only shook her head, watching the spot on the floor raptly. The orb had become longer and longer and seemed to be filling out into a shape. The light was too bright to look at without causing pain, but Eleni watched anyway. The glow grew longer and wider and fanned out, making a shape that was soon identifiable. A person. Eleni could make out arms and legs now. A head, feet, hands. Then the glow intensified and the body lifted off the ground, back arched.

And then the light screamed. Eleni realized it wasn't the light, though, but whoever was inside the light. She shielded her eyes. There was an odd, vibrating roll, like that of thunder, and then the light began to melt. It slid off the body underneath like melting ice and dissipated in the air. After what seemed like a lifetime, a young woman floated slowly to the floor, unmoving.

Eleni and Magda were next to her in an instant. Fin joined them, holding his side. The woman was naked and hairless. She was emaciated and pale, her ribs prominent and her eyes like the sockets of a skeleton. She had scorch marks all over her body, but as Eleni watched, these began to fade one by one.

“Danai,” said Magda. “My sister.” She was smiling and crying at the same time, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, dear girl. I've looked for you for so long.” She lifted her head from the floor and, sitting, placed it in her lap. “It's her,” Magda said, looking almost kind in her joy. “We found her.”

Suddenly they heard screams from beyond the cottage. Eleni leapt up to rush outside, but the cottage shook so violently that she nearly fell over. The door rattled as though from a strong wind. A flickering power buzzed and filled the air. Eleni recognized that feeling; the same buzzing she could feel down to her marrow when she was wearing the necklace. Eleni stepped away from the door just as it burst open with a blinding flash of light. She heard Magda cry out and she could see Fin dive to the floor, shielding his face. The light buzzed with electricity, then it was inside, sending waves of lightning around the room, barely missing Eleni. It stopped, hovering, and seeming to turn. Then, so fast it was a blur, it crashed into Danai, still unconscious on the floor. Her back arched as the jolts made her vibrate and twitch and she glowed with its power. Then she was still and the dim light of the lone candle returned.

Eleni looked at Fin, as shocked as she was. She looked at Magda, who looked like she was sobbing.

“What just happened?” said Eleni.

Magda looked up at her. “Perun is dead,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“Because he has just made Danai his vessel.”

Eleni looked at Danai, pitiful and hairless, but with her scorch-marks quickly fading. Her belly began to glow. Eleni looked at Fin who stared back at her. She forced herself to her feet and ran out the door. Women were running to the gate and looking out, their falxes in front of them. Another group was gathered round the ladder leading to the top of the wall where Eleni could see Iren standing alert, staring at something. She had an arrow notched in her bow, aiming it, Eleni gathered, toward the box.

“What is it?” Eleni asked the women around the ladder. “What has happened? Is he dead?”

The women shook their heads. A young boy looked up at her. “He was screaming,” he said with wide eyes. “The lightning man was screaming.”

“Iren, what has happened?” Eleni called. Iren turned and looked down at her. Eleni could sense her fear. She looked back past the wall, as if making sure, then shouldered her bow and scurried down the ladder.

“It was my fault,” she said. “I looked away from the box just for a minute. There was lightning and thunder coming from my house. And when I looked back the man in the box started screaming. And then this glow exploded past, it just missed me. Then I shot the creature.”

“What did you shoot?” said Eleni.

Iren shook her head. “I don't know what it is called. But it killed the man you locked in the box.”

Eleni ran to the gate, Iren behind her. She made her way quickly to the box. The huge fur-covered body lay just beyond the hatch, unmoving on the ground with three arrows deep into its back. Eleni didn't need to turn it over all the way to know who—or what—it was. Its face was half turned and Eleni could see the fur and muscle burned off. It was the wolf-man that had survived the fire. The one given whispered instructions by Loki.

The door of the box had been ripped open. Eleni could smell the blood and electricity. She peered in, lighting a flame in the palm of her hand. There was hardly anything left of Perun. She saw a hand laying against the bloody quilts, guts decorating the floor from corner to corner. Half a ribcage with hardly any meat left on it. A chunk of hair connected to bloody scalp. Eleni tried to feel something as she looked at the carnage, but she felt nothing.

“I'm sorry,” Iren said tearfully.

“It's all right,” said Eleni. She gave the girl a tight smile. “You killed the beast that did this. Well done.”

Eleni walked heavily back to the cottage. The door had been blown completely off and lay outside on the ground. She strode across it and entered the house.

“Perun is dead,” she said.“Loki's grandson. The wolf creature tore him into little pieces. I think it ate most of him. Iren killed it.”

“Good girl,” said Fin.

Magda was still, her forehead to Danai's. She was stroking her sister's face. Danai opened her eyes. They were the same icy blue that Eleni remembered from her dream. Magda sat up and looked at her, her eyes red from crying. Danai sat up slowly and looked around at each of them slowly. Then, as if moving through water, her eyes moved down to her own body. Her own belly, which was still glowing and sparking with electricity.

“No,” she rasped. “It cannot be. Not after everything.”

Magda touched her and Danai flinched. “Sister, I'm so sorry,” Magda said. “I didn't know.”

Danai looked at her. “How could you?”

Eleni lifted Danai gently in her arms. She was so light. She weighed far less than a stag. She carried her to the next cottage and laid her gently on the cot where Eleni had been sleeping the past three days. Fin limped behind and waited outside the hut. Danai was asleep before Magda even pulled the quilt over her. They joined Fin outside.

“What now?” he said.

Magda shook her head. “We wait for her to heal.”

“Loki is trying to end the world,” said Eleni. “We don't have time to wait.”

Magda looked at her quickly. “The Fates heal fast, girl.”

Eleni sighed. “So we wait. Then what?”

“Then my sister follows the path Anja took. And we will follow her.”

“She can do that?” said Fin. “Even after all this time?”

“Time means nothing to the Sudice,” said Magda.

“Time means everything,” said Eleni. “We don't know how long we have. Loki said all he needs is darkness to start Ragnarok. What does that mean?”

Something flashed behind Magda's eyes. “It means,” she said gravely, “he's going to hunt the sun gods. If he needs darkness to start Ragnarok, he must put out the sun. If he takes the strongest, the weakest will fall. Daja was the weakest of the strong. He will surely be moving to stronger gods now.”

“What can we do?” said Fin.

“We should find Anja,” said Eleni. “If we find Anja before he has finished, the three Fates will be reunited and they can set things right.”

Magda nodded. “Yes. We should find Anja.”

“So we wait,” said Eleni. “And we follow Danai to find my mother. The last of the Fates.”

Fin frowned. “It can't be that simple.”

Magda laughed a joyless laugh. “It won't be simple, boy. The world is chaos. Nothing is simple.”

Eleni walked away, and looked up toward the mountains. She would be climbing those mountains soon. If she left she may never see her forest again. This village, once her prison, had now become a refuge for her and for all the mortal women in the Reiver camp. And the place where the once-great god of lightning met his temporary end.

But as she gazed at the deep snows of the pass, she wondered. Did Loki want Perun killed because he knew the secret of Loki's power, or to protect Eleni from a god who had already killed Zaric once, and wanted him dead for all time?

Magda was right. The world was chaos, and perhaps if the chaos ended, so would Eleni. Looking at the Reiver women, eating their fill now but still thin as saplings, Eleni wondered if mortals did poison the earth. The lightning god Perun infected everything around him with his thirst for power. Maybe Loki wasn't as mad as everyone said. Perhaps he had a point in ending all this fighting, all the bickering and blood and pain and cruelty, and starting a new world.

Eleni dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. She found herself standing at the gate, looking out at the world. She almost expected the she-wolf to come bounding toward her. Eleni felt cold and hollow when she remembered that Daja was dead, forever, her soul bound in the horn that Loki possessed.

Loki wasn't right. He had killed her only friend. When Fin finally limped over to join her, she allowed him to touch her shoulder.

“I want to burn him,” she said. “I want Loki to burn and scream for mercy. And then I want to kill him.”

Fin forced a thin smile. “We shall go into the fire smiling,” he said.

by J.L. Murray

The Other Side of the Desert

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

The Devil Is A Gentleman

Before The Devil Knows You're Dead

The Niki Slobodian Omnibus (Books 1-3)

For more about J.L. Murray, visit the author page.