Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“What was it?” Finn asked.
“I killed a Void monster in his name. His power got a big boost, and he granted me a boon,” Roman said. “I’m not to be called upon during Koliada. Especially not on this day. He broke his promise to me to show his wife that he treasures her so much he would rather fight with me than with her. This tree is proof of his devotion and my obeisance.”
“What if you don’t do it?” Finn asked. “What if you just stop?”
“I can’t. The tree is the price of invoking Chernobog’s name. He lent me his crown, his bow, and his power. In return, I will drag this fir all the way to the Ice Terem, and I will not complain. I have many faults, Finn, but I am a man of my word.”
Roman grinned and pulled harder.
The woods had lost their grimness. A godfire sunrise played across the sky, glowing with pink, then lavender, then a gentle purple with gossamer trails of turquoise brilliance stretching across like shimmering veils. It was neither night nor day, but a magical time in between, and the farther they went, the brighter the sky grew. Morena was in a better mood. He was bringing her a pretty tree, and her new priest was coming home.
They kept walking. Farhang and Finn had fallen slightly behind, Farhang trying to explain Zoroastrianism and a magav’s powers. Andora caught up with him and kept pace through the snow.
“Cold?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“About those two with the wheel and the weird magic,” he said. “Do you know where they came from?”
Andora shook her head again. “Never came across anything like that.”
Another mystery to add to his to-do list.
They strode side by side. Now was as good a time as any.
“Look, about the whole snake thing…”
She raised her eyebrows at him. The woman could cut with a look like nobody he’d ever met.
“It’s my fault,” he said. “I did it. I just want to clarify that it wasn’t intentional bullying.”
“Then what was it?”
“Proximity and lack of control.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”
He gathered himself.
“Well?”
“Hang on. I stuffed all my feelings down like a proper man, and it takes some effort to bring them back up.”
“Take your time.”
Roman sighed. “I was a really unhappy twelve-year-old.”
“You said that part.”
“My parents were separating. They’d separated a couple of times before, but this time it felt different. Final.”
His parents had never married, although his mother introduced herself as Mrs. Tihomirov to this day when the occasion called for it. Now, after years of watching them clash and make up, he was sure they would never leave each other. Age had mellowed them both enough to live in the same house most of the time, and their fights had lost much of their former viciousness. But back then, it was chaos.
“My sisters were panicking. It felt like the family was collapsing. Mom and Dad had tried to shield us from their problems as much as they could, but they were angry with each other. My brother was…”
“A shithead.”
“Perfect. He was perfect. He was seven years older, and he was good at everything. He was at the top of every class. Theoretical, practical, didn’t matter. Top three with a spear, number one with a bow. He was a sniper. When he went hunting, even if everyone else came back empty-handed, he would always bring home game. I never had patience for the bow.”
“You seemed to do fine half an hour ago,” she said.
“Years of practice. To my brother, it came naturally. I once asked him how he did it, and he told me to stop thinking. Make myself empty. Don’t be bored, don’t be worried. Just be empty, and wait.”
She sighed.
“My brother never got in trouble. No matter what the task was, he would do it properly every time, exceeding expectations, while I couldn’t put a foot right. I came from a prominent magical family. I had to uphold our reputation. Great things were expected of me, and somehow everything I touched turned to shit.”
“Ah yes, the poor little pagan prince,” Andora said, but her words didn’t have any bite to them.
“In my first semester of the fifth grade, I ended up in the principal’s office more times than my brother had ever been in his entire twelve years at the Academy. It had gotten to the point where, when I got in trouble, they would call him for the parent-teacher talk. He never got angry. He never berated. He just looked at me like I was a maggot. Like he had expected me to amount to nothing, so there was no point in being disappointed.”
“That’s a lot of feelings,” Andora said. “Are you going to be alright?”
“No worries, after this is done, I will put them back where they belong, and we won’t talk about this again. Ever.”