“The BEASt Callzz, DOes it NOT?” Baba Yaga grinned grotesquely. “Join Uzz, BILLi sanGREAL. Join your Siisterzz.”
Billi glared up at Baba Yaga. “I am not an animal.”
Baba Yaga laughed.
“Have you told them of Fimbulwinter?” Billi asked. “That the wolves will die beside mankind?”
Olga started. She shot a look at the old witch.
“I HONor MY PoliNNItZzee,” The witch drew a fingernail along her chin. “YoU Humanzz aRe full of LYzz.”
“Then tell us how you can eliminate mankind while keeping the Polenitsy safe.” Billi crossed her arms; it was the only way she could stop herself from trembling. Any second now the old witch was going to kill her, but she had to first make the Polenitsy understand that Baba Yaga was deceiving them.
Olga stepped forward, her head low and humble. “Great Mother. How will we remove the curse of mankind and still save the others who worship and honor you?”
Voices rose out of Baba Yaga, troubled and discordant, no longer driven by a single will. They babbled a thousand-a million-things. Baba Yaga glowered, looming over them all.
Billi and Ivan backed away, and even the Polenitsy around them moved nervously, their bare feet scraping on the smooth stone. Many fell facedown, kneeling in terror at the anger of their goddess.
“SILEnZZE!” Baba Yaga leaned close to Olga, her long iron fangs just inches from the old werewolf’s face. The witch hissed. “iT Izz NOT YouRRplace to QUesTion MEEE!”
Olga bowed low. But unlike many of the other Polenitsy, she did not kneel.
“I meant no disrespect, Great Mother.”
“ReMmember who zervezz wHo, Olga. Who zervezz Who.” Baba Yaga gazed deep into each of the werewolves’ eyes, a gaze full of evil malice and anger. “I Am YouRR godDD and iT is Not fOR morTalzz”-she hissed the last word, spiteful and contemptuous-“to QuesTion the WiLL of theirrR godZZ.”
She swung around. Svetlana, who had been beside Olga, shot a look of anger at her grandmother, then took hold of Vasilisa. Baba Yaga tapped her way back into the darkness of the caves. “Go Noww.”
Only when Baba Yaga had gone did the Polenitsy’s silence lift. Billi watched them, perched in the alcoves and ledges above. Some glared down at her, their hatred clear. How dare she question the goddess? Others looked uneasy, whispering and arguing among themselves.
Svetlana met her grandmother as she crossed the pool, pulling Vasilisa behind her.
“Ty dolzhna byla naklonitsa pered boginyey!” said Svetlana.
Olga looked coolly at her granddaughter. “My zhe Polenitsy, nye ryaby.”
Svetlana turned abruptly and stormed out. Billi caught a glimpse of Vasilisa reaching out to her with a free hand as she was dragged away. She wanted to be safe, so she reached for Billi. Hadn’t Billi crossed Russia to find her? To save her?
“What did she say?” Billi asked Ivan.
Ivan’s eyes narrowed as he watched the Polenitsy depart. He whispered, “The red-haired one said she should have got to her knees before the goddess.”
Yes, that had been strange. Olga, almost alone among the Polenitsy, had remained on her feet. She had been practically defiant.
“What was Olga’s reply?”
“That they were Polenitsy, not slaves.”
“Come,” said Olga, sounding weary. Three other Polenitsy came down off the ledge and escorted them back out.
Billi’s mind churned over the options.
Her dad was coming, but when? He had no idea how many Polenitsy were waiting here in the forest. The Templars would be slaughtered.
There would be no last-minute rescue. She and Ivan were on their own.
The sky was darkening as Billi crawled back out. But already the moon hung over the treetops, casting its pallid light over her. Sharp pangs shot through her stomach and across her chest. The Beast Within tore at her, trying to break out of her skin.
“I am not a beast.” The pain made her drop to her knees.
Ivan bent down beside her and locked his arms around her.
Eyes closed, Billi rocked gently in his embrace. She was not a beast, not yet. She had one thing to do before it was all too late.
“I’m all right,” she said. It wasn’t true; she was anything but.
Vasilisa.
It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been at home with her family, safe and ignorant of the monsters outside. Through no fault of her own, through a freak of birth, she was now at the heart of the Bataille Ténébreuse.
I’m sorry, Vasilisa.
As the Polenitsy waited impatiently beside her, Billi pressed her fingers into the snow, willing the cold to leech into her blood and freeze her heart. She had to turn whatever pity, whatever compassion she might have, to ice. There was no room for it now.
There was only one way to stop Fimbulwinter.
Billi would kill Vasilisa tonight.
35
OLGA WALKED BESIDE BILLI AS THEY EVENTUALLY made their way back to the camp. Ivan had fallen a few paces behind with the other escorts; it wasn’t easy getting through the snow with his injured leg.
“I suppose I should thank you. For saving our lives,” said Billi. She didn’t get it, though. With all that had happened, why had the old woman protected them?
“I was honoring a debt, nothing more.”
“A debt? You owe us nothing.”
“You saved two lives. Natasha and Maria. You helped them escape the Bogatyrs in Moscow.”
The paisley woman and the young werewolf girl. “They were friends of yours?”
“They were Polenitsy.”
“But the woman’s dead. Koshchey killed her.”
Olga nodded. “But Maria lives. For her life I saved yours.” She slowed down, pressing her boot tip into the snow. “And you are now one of us. We protect our own.”
Billi shook her head savagely. “I’ll never join you. Even if I transform, why would I want to be part of this?”
Olga grabbed Billi’s arm and swung her around. “Then where will you go? Do you think the Templars will welcome you? You that are Unholy in their eyes? You will join us and live a life you could not have dreamed of. What is better than this freedom?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. With Fimbulwinter to be unleashed tomorrow, we’ll all be dead soon enough.”
“Fimbulwinter so you say. Who told you about Fimbulwinter?”
“Vasilisa. You must know that Baba Yaga has been sharing her mind. Vasilisa learned about Fimbulwinter from the goddess herself.”
“No…that cannot be true,” said Olga, her voice wavering.
“I don’t know who’s worse,” said Billi to the old woman. “That mad witch, or you, for worshipping her.”
If she’d wanted a reaction, she got it. Olga knocked her off her feet with a single swipe. She stood over Billi, flexing her fingers. The nails were normal, human. She didn’t need claws to tear Billi apart.
“Get up, Templar,” Olga said. “Why do you provoke me?”
Billi got up and dusted the snow off her coat. “Provoke?
You don’t think kidnapping children and planning the apocalypse is provocation?”
“You should have stayed in London.”
“Why? Because it’s safer? Baba Yaga wants to use Vasilisa’s powers to blow Yellowstone, a supervolcano. When that goes there won’t be a place on the planet that’s safe.” Billi thought about the devastation Vesuvius had caused. That eruption would be a puff of smoke compared to what was going to happen tomorrow unless she found a way to stop it. “Ash and sulphur dioxide will fill the sky and block out the sun. The world will freeze. We’ll all starve, human and wolf.”
“No. The Great Mother has promised to protect us.” Olga shook her head. “She would not unleash such devastation on us. If what you say is true, all the world’s population would suffer near extinction. Baba Yaga only wishes to protect the natural world.”