Anastasia Forever (16 page)

The four of us ponder this as the sun continues to rise. The sky stays gray, the air humid. From over the lake, there's the vaguest rumble of thunder. My stomach clenches.

Why
has
Viktor hung around? Is it to stop me? Then why just stalk me? Why not confront me and get it over with? I'm not immortal. But if he is, then he's got nothing to lose. I could slice him through with a sword and he'd get up ticking. Or at least get up. There has to be a reason.

And then the other why, the part Ethan and I have still kept to ourselves. Why make Ethan powerful again? Why would Viktor loan out a piece of his magic? It makes no sense at all.

But at least this explains how Viktor was able to remove Lily's bullet from his chest. That's a step in the right direction.

“Well, I don't know about the rest of you,” Tess says. She yawns hugely, and for one creepy second I think of Baba Yaga's jaw, stretching and unhinging to show those iron teeth. “But I'm wiped. We can stand here for the next million years coming up with possibilities, but honestly? Who the hell knows what Viktor did or thought while he was at Baba Yaga's. I say we all go to Ethan's and get some sleep. 'Cause unless things have changed since we got to IHOP, Anne's still kicked out of her house and no way am I going home alone. So I say daytime sleepover at Ethan's. Make s'mores. Take turns keeping guard. That kind of thing.”

Ethan and Ben look lost in Tess ramble. But I'm not.

“You're a genius,” I say, smacking a kiss on her forehead.

“Gross!” She swipes the spot with the back of her hand. “Don't get so excited. Ethan probably doesn't have marshmallows or graham crackers. We'll have to sit in his apartment, drink hot tea, and brood about the old days.”

I snort a laugh. “No, you idiot. Don't you realize what you said?”

The only one except Viktor who knows what went on in Baba Yaga's hut is the witch herself.

I see the light go on in Ethan's head. “Oh no,” he says. “It's too dangerous.”

“Only way. Baba Yaga knows, Ethan. She may not be happy sharing, but she has to know. At least something. 'Cause let's face it—Viktor was mortal again when he offered himself up to her. And when he stepped out of her hut, he wasn't. Whatever he did, whenever that crucial moment was, it happened while he was her prisoner. And only one other besides him knows when that was.”

As though the sky has heard me, thunder rumbles closer. To the east, a flash of lightning rips the early morning sky. Maybe she has heard me. Maybe I'm doing it on my own.

“I'm sick and tired of waiting, Ethan. Baba Yaga's right. I'm playing at this and playing at this while my friends are in danger and my family is totally falling apart. I'm the one who has to do something. I've always been the one—since this began. I mean, that's the point, right? So let me do it.”

“Not alone. Not now.”

“Then when? After something happens to Tess? After Lily comes back when I'm not around and convinces my mother to do something crazy? Or goes after my father? Or Ben? Or you? It's the same as it's been, Ethan. There's only one place to find the answers.”

When the power begins to twist inside my belly, I let it. The forest doesn't scare me anymore. How can it? Since I made my bargain with Baba Yaga, it's part of me like it's part of her. I've resisted. I've ignored. I've pretended that this is going to go away. So what's happened? I've been dragged into the past on someone else's terms.

No
more.

I lift my face to the sky. The storm rolls in because I bid it to. I've called her before, but out of desperation not strength. And it went badly because of it. I had to save Tess and Ben. I had to bring Ethan back from the dead.

Now my mother wants me to help her see her dead son. And Viktor wants us gone, hurt, dead—whatever he can accomplish. Lily, too, I realize as I raise my arms and feel the familiar heat of my magic crackle under my skin, fly to my fingertips. Lily, the pesky detail Viktor got wrong and is now paying for over and over. She didn't die like she was supposed to. She may be crazy and dangerous, but she doesn't deserve the fate she received. She lost her child—my mother—and then she lost herself forever.

Lily, who wasn't afraid of her magic but ended up punished because of it. A rusalka until her transformation can be avenged. Until Viktor's blood is shed.

It hadn't occurred to me. But now it does. He wants her dead too. How do you kill a Russian mermaid? I'm sure there's a story. There's always a story. That's the way my life goes now.

I summon the part of me that's Yaga's. Lightning etches the sky like a fingernail cutting a line. The sky splits open. I feel the magnetic pull of my power calling to its source.

“Anne, no!” Ethan's hands are on me, and then I feel Ben's. Powerful hands, gripping me. I shake them off. Ignore the dark surge of power pulsing from Ethan as I do.

Baba Yaga leans over the edge of the mortar. Her red kerchief flutters in the wind. Her eyes glitter. Her hands clutch the edge of the huge black bowl separately from her body. “You have much to learn, girl. Are you finally willing to begin?”

I don't answer her. Just reach up my hand. Intuitively I know that this must be done on her terms. In her territory. One of her hands loosens its grip on the mortar and flings itself into the air, its enormous wrinkled fingers spread wide.

“No!” Tess screams. She grips me around the waist.

The disembodied hand hurtles earthward, impossibly fast. I push Tess off me. She hits the ground with a grunt. I have to do this alone. I'm convinced. Bringing anyone else with me will make her think I'm weak.

Somewhere, I hear Ethan shouting a spell. Feel his magic plow through the air toward the mortar. His thoughts are muddled, but the emotion comes through. Terror. Anger. Frustration.

Baba Yaga's hand grabs mine, rough skin rasping as it tightens around my hand, my arm. My feet scrape the pavement as I'm dragged forward.
Why
not
up? We need to go up to the mortar if that's how we're doing this
.

“Let go, Anne,” Ethan yells. I hear his feet pounding the pavement behind me. Feel the swoosh in the air as he grabs for me but misses. Baba Yaga's hand tugs and I start to lift from the ground. But whatever Ethan is muttering—his own spell? Some part of Viktor's dark magic?—it's keeping Baba Yaga from pulling me to the mortar.

The witch leans over the impossibly large bowl, stirs the air with her giant pestle. The sleeve that waits for the hand holding me to return flaps empty in the wind. Thunder booms. Another streak of lightning cracks and sizzles.

My memory flashes to that horrible day on the beach. My mother kneeling in the sand. Baba Yaga pulling me into the mortar. And what she said to me then about Ethan.
Here's what I did not expect, my girl. I did not expect you to love him.

Why did she think that? I do love him. I've loved him since the beginning. It goes against everything rational in my brain, but I do. Only here's the problem: the fact that I love him and he loves me only makes things harder. How can I stop a crazy bad guy and a seriously disturbed rusalka when I'm worried about hurting the people I love? Maybe the real truth is that people like me don't really get a chance at love. It's just a cruel illusion. Loving Ethan makes me hesitate. And I can't do that right now.

“Stop it, Ethan,” I shout to him. “I know. I know. This is nuts. I'm nuts. But let go. I've got to do this. Let me go, damn it.”

My pulse kicks into overdrive. I could pull away. I should pull away. But something—some weird sense of honor or responsibility or love for the people I care about—propels me to continue. Is this what it's like when firefighters rush into a burning building? Are they as terrified as I am, even though they know that if they don't keep on going, all will be lost? How did I become this person? What power decided that I could handle it?

“Shit, Anne, don't.” The words are Ben's. He's thrown himself into the mix. I risk a glance behind me. Ben and Ethan are running in tandem, both reaching for me. I don't see Tess. Where is Tess? The thought panics me and I try to block it out.
I
have
to
do
this. Tess will be fine
.

“It's time, daughter,” Baba Yaga calls to me. “Time for you to use your gift. You know what to do. Just do it. And come to me.” She laughs, a cruel sound that echoes in waves over the parking lot. One by one, the lights of the neon IHOP sign go dark, but not in order. HOP. HO. O. If I weren't clinging to a gross hand for my life, I'd find this funny.

For the first time, I don't think about the magic as it rises inside me. I just let it happen. Let it be part of me. Around me I weave a spell of protection. To keep Ethan from saving me. To keep Ben from saving me. I've been through that before. None of us needs a repeat.

The magic simmers low in my belly, fills me in a way I haven't allowed myself to feel. The elements are mine to control. This, I've learned, is the essence of Baba Yaga's magic. Of mine. I can stop waves—better now, I'd imagine. I can cause the wind to blow and fire to burn. I can make shriveled plants bloom on their vines. Some things I can't do. I brought Ethan back but only because there was a window of time. His lips were still warm. Air still lingered in his lungs. A few minutes more and the damage would have been permanent. There is still a natural order to things. Only so many rules that I can break. Always some consequence.

This is what I understand as my feet dangle almost comically above the IHOP parking lot, a huge wrinkled hand pulling me into the sky. And this: for the very first time, since I've used my magic, I think I kind of like it.

I close my eyes. Ignore the tugging sensation on my arm and the fear of flying with only this not-exactly-trustworthy witch's hand to keep me from falling.

Ethan's borrowed power is hugely strong. He just proved that in my backyard with Lily. If I hadn't been there to talk him down, who knows how far he would have gone.

But I'm strong too. Stronger maybe because the witch is hovering above me and the connection between us feels like iron links. Maybe this witch thing isn't so bad.

I close my eyes and continue the spell I've started. Feel the air tighten behind me. Tighten and change form. An invisible wall is what I want. It's what I get. Ethan and Ben reach for me. I can feel the air bend as Ethan's magic attempts to ram through the barrier. I push back. Baba Yaga's hand slips a little and my feet scrape the ground again. So far we've avoided hitting parked cars, but now my hip collides with a Ford Explorer. Stinging pain shoots down my leg.

“
Atebis, babushka!
” Ethan shouts. He's so close that I think I can feel his breath on my arm.

Then smack. The wall of air solidifies. Ethan and Ben smash into it. The hand drags me forward, then slowly up. My heels, then the balls of my feet. Just the barest tips of my toes graze the cement.

Someone grabs my free hand just as I lift off again. Her nails dig into my palm as she tightens her grip. The one person I didn't think to block.

“Shit!” Tess hollers. “Don't you dare drop me.”

“Do something,” Ben says. “Damn it, Ethan. We can't just let her take them.”

I fumble for another spell. Do I have the power in me now to compel the witch to return? Even as I think it, the mortar disappears into the clouds. They're just gone.

“Let's go to the lake, then.” Ben fishes keys from his pocket. “There's got to be a way to follow them. I'll drive. C'mon. That's how we ended up in that damn forest last time. At the lake. Maybe we can do it again. You're Magic Guy. You can figure it out, right?”

“Anne's the one who can access Baba Yaga's forest. Not me. It's never been me.” Which, of course, is the problem.

“Viktor, then. You could find him, right? He controlled that witch, didn't he? Isn't that what you said? So he must know how to get to her forest. We need to go now. God knows what's going to happen there. Why the hell did Anne do that?”

I force myself to breathe. “Because she's Anne. Because she can. When Viktor used Anastasia the way he did, he created his own nemesis. Anne. It's what I never want to admit, but she and I both know that this can only end one way—with someone dead. Viktor. Anne. Me. You or Tess. Someone she loves. Anne's gone because she doesn't want it to be one of us. And even if we could follow her, she's right. Our presence will only add more danger. Not just for us. But for her.”

Ben's nostrils flare. The look in his eyes says that he hates me.

“What then?”

We
go
after
them
anyway. We drive to the lake. We track down Viktor. I use whatever darkness keeps building in my veins and rip a hole in the sky and pull them back
. This is what my brain is screaming.

But I tell Ben, “We wait. We stay together—safety in numbers. We swing by and check Anne's house. And Tess's. And yours—find out where your parents are. Make sure nothing weird is going on. Remember, Viktor's linked to Anne too. He may actually know what just happened here. I hope he doesn't. That would make things easier. But we can't be certain. So we need to be vigilant. Other than that, we wait. She'll make it back, Ben. They both will.”

I say the words as though I know them to be the purest of truths.

Ben looks away. He knows bullshit when he hears it.

I set to work creating another spell. Cast my hands in the circle and work quickly to remove evidence of what just happened here. People's memories are fluid things, but a little magical push will help assure that. Like that horrible day when Anne and I found my friend Alex Olensky dying on the floor of his office. I used this spell then too. My hands shake a little as I say the words that need to be said. My dark borrowed power pushes the spell more intensely than I've felt before. A fear forms: Will Viktor's magic stop me? But I complete the spell without interruption. Some things inside me are still my own.

Ben watches in silence.

“They'll protect each other,” I tell him. “Anne and Tess. We have to believe that.”

We leave the rest unsaid. Is Ben in love with Anne? He won't pursue her. He's no fool. He's a strangely good match for Tess—both loyal to a fault. I have no interest in knowing his mind. I know only this: I've done many foolish things over the years, but there is one thing I did right. I fell in love with Anne the first time I saw her. I need to stay strong enough to deserve that love.

And then the thought: maybe I was never strong to begin with.

“All right.” Ben studies the empty sky. The IHOP sign blinks back to life. “We wait.”

“I would suggest a stronger plan of action.”

Ben and I turn.

“And I would also suggest that we move quickly.” It's my old friend Dimitri. He's leaning against a black Ford sedan, a wry look of amusement on his face, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “That was quite the spectacle your girl and her witch just put on,” he continues. “I see her time travel hasn't diminished her spirit. And don't look so shocked, Ethan. Did you really think I'd have let you walk out of that restaurant if you were the only one who'd regained some power?”

“Um,” Ben says quietly. “Who the hell is that? And did he just say you have power again? When exactly were you and Anne going to mention this?”

I ignore Ben, keep my attention on Dimitri. His eyes are darker than they were when we met at the café. Not good.

“He's using us, you know?” Dimitri extracts a pack of matches from his pocket and cups his hand as he lights the cigarette. He drops the match, still burning, to the cement. “I'm assuming that if I've figured it out, so have you. You're many things, Ethan, but you're not stupid.”

I shrug. “I don't have time for this. If you want to tell me something I don't know, then fine. I meant what I said to you—I'm willing to work together until we stop him. I did not say that I trusted you.”

Dimitri walks closer, exhales smoke. Flicks ash into the still heavy air.

“And I, Brother, did not say I trusted you. But I have done what I promised. Although perhaps you are right. Your Anne and her little friend are with the witch. I suppose this isn't the time for small talk.”

“And yet here we are,” I say blandly. “Like two grandmothers around a fire.”

Above us, there's the faint echo of thunder. More than anything, I want to look up. But in this game we're playing, I refuse to be the first to blink.

“You've left a trail of magic a mile wide, Ethan,” Dimitri says. “In the old days, you would never have been so careless. Then again, in the old days, we had our own power, not Viktor's scraps. This is what I keep turning over and over. Why would someone who wants the world at his fingertips gift the two of us with part of his power? That seems odd, doesn't it?”

He pulls cigarettes from his pocket, offers. “I'm glad to see you still have a few vices,” he says, when I slip one from the pack. “I make it a policy never to trust a man who has no vices.”

I reach for matches. Ben extends his hand to Dimitri. “I'm Ben. And you are?”

Dimitri cocks his head as if Ben has fallen from the sky. “Perhaps,” he says, “it is time for a little demonstration.”

He flicks his remaining half-cigarette to the ground. Flicks a finger. The ashes ignite. The flame travels a swift path toward Ben.

“Hey!” Ben dances back. The flames follow, lick at his feet.

“Enough.” Cigarette still between my fingers, I spread my hands. Concentrate. The flames lower. Disappear. “Point taken.”

Dimitri chuckles. Studies Ben. “This one must be Anne's, yes? I suppose we wouldn't want to damage him.”

Inside me, power pushes against my will. The urge to let it free careens wildly. Images flash—none of them mine, yet rising full-grown: Ben, motionless on the ground. Dimitri, hands pressed to his slit belly, his intestines spilling out. The rusalka swirling in a whirlpool, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Something urges me to let it rage. Instead, I push the power back below the surface. And decide to resort to the truth.

“Viktor's hidden his soul.” Has Dimitri understood this as well? “Like Koschei—the story we all heard as children. The Deathless wonder. Unkillable until his soul is set free to return to him. It's why Anne's gone to Baba Yaga's. She thinks the answers are in the hut somehow. Some clue to explain how he did it or where it's hidden.”

Dimitri arches a brow. “And so it comes back to that every time, eh? Our eternal lives in the hands of a girl. I'm sure the irony is not lost on you. But my question still stands. Why give us part of what makes him strong? Here is what I think, Ethan. Because he has to. Because whatever it is he's done, however he's managed to divest himself of that which once again makes him human, he needs us still.”

“But for what?”

“I don't know,” Dimitri says. “But I have a feeling we'd better find out before he decides to use us. And I know exactly how we can do that.”

“Oh?”

“Ask him face-to-face.”