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)
Finally. Roman sped up.
The moment his foot touched the bridge, the harness binding him to the tree fell apart in a flurry of snowflakes.
A star detached from the top balcony and sped over their heads to land in the snow. A miniature winter storm swirled where it landed, and from it Morena stepped out. She stood ten feet tall, a woman with the face of a goddess, her skin white as snow, two long braids, black as the winter sky, snaking down her chest. A kokoshnik tiara crowned her brow, glittering with blue and white diamonds. She wore a sarafan, a long dress with a voluminous pale blue skirt, and a shuba, a long winter coat with a white fur collar, cinched to her waist with a silver belt.
Her eyes shone with the blue of the brightest godfire. Looking into them was like being punched off your feet—Winter looked back, merciless, breathtaking, and frightening.
She had gone with the classic image today. First impressions were important. Judging by the look on Finn’s face, it worked. The kid was shocked into silence.
Yes, yes, just wait until you see her earlier iteration, the one with unbrushed hair, wrapped in furs, and devouring raw meat with a mouth full of ice fangs. She didn’t revert to that form too often now, but once in a while, it made an appearance.
Morena raised an arm. The shepherd puppy leapt forward, changing shape in mid-jump. A black swan with glowing ruby eyes landed on Morena’s forearm and rubbed her head against Morena’s shoulder.
The fir tree rose on its own, floated across the lake, and landed on the large crescent balcony, touching down with a peal of thunder. Ornaments sprouted on the branches: small sculptures of animals fashioned from ice with startling accuracy; glittering jewels and treasures from Morena’s vaults; intricate silver chains that only Chernobog could weave; icicles that sparkled like diamonds; bright red berries; golden pinecones; and atop it all, Morena’s sigil encrusted with gems. Little motes of godfire, green, blue, and pink ignited in the branches.
Wow. She’d pulled out all the stops.
The goddess nodded at Andora and turned to the boy.
“WELCOME, FINN,” Morena said.
The kid gaped.
A wolf the size of a horse trotted out of the woods, all pale fur and teeth. He lay on the ground in front of Finn.
“THIS IS BURAN. HE WILL GIVE YOU A TOUR OF MY HOME. WAIT FOR ME THERE.”
Finn blinked at Buran.
“She means for you to ride the wolf,” Roman told him.
“I’ve ridden him before,” Andora said. “He’s nice.”
Roman almost choked on empty air. The first time he’d seen Buran, he was up North in the human world, near the Great Lakes. It had been a quiet winter day, soft and fuzzy. Light powdery snowflakes sifted down. Suddenly, fat chunks of snow rained from the sky. Wind howled, the snow-covered field mixed with the snow-smudged sky, and the world vanished into a blinding blizzard. And then, as he’d held his arm up to try to shield his face, a giant form emerged from the raging storm, locked his teeth on Roman’s arm, and yanked him straight into Nav, because Morena had wanted a word.
Buran turned his shaggy head and looked at Finn.
Finn’s eyes widened. He climbed onto the beast, and the wolf took off like a bullet across the bridge. The swan leaped off Morena’s arm, turning back into a shepherd in a blink, and chased Finn and the wolf.
Morena leveled her gaze at Roman. “Such a simple lesson, and it took you so long.”
“Five times,” he said. “I’m slow, but I can be taught.”
The goddess smiled. "Foolish boy. If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is to see a man enslaved. Especially by his own guilt.”
He knew.
“You are my gift to my husband on this Koliada. Now you can be all he wishes you to be.”
“I’m honored,” Roman said.
“Well, he deserves it. He loves me so.”
Morena reached into her wide sleeve and withdrew a delicate ice fruit. The Winter Apple, glowing softly with blue and white. A kiss from a goddess, a blank check for a single wish.
“You’ve done well bringing the boy to me.”
She dropped the apple into Roman’s palm.
Any boon he wanted.
Roman studied the apple.
Any boon within her ability to grant.
He glanced at Morena.
“Are you sure? You know I don’t hand many of these out.”
“I’m sure,” he said.
Morena shook her head. “The softest heart aches the hardest, Roman.”
“I promise to harden mine after this.”
The goddess sighed and flicked her fingers. The apple streaked to Farhang and broke over him in a shower of snowflakes. The space behind the magav split, yawned, slurped him out of Nav, and snapped shut.
A vast dark shadow loomed in the wide doorway that led to the tree and the balcony. His black cloak swirled about him. The glow of Morena’s tree lights played on his scale armor. The God of the Final End stepped onto the balcony.