Siege and Storm (Shadow and Bone #2)(62)

I climbed the three steps at the front of the hut and knocked. No one answered. I knocked again and then pushed the door open, wincing at the familiar blast of heat. Baghra always seemed to be cold, and entering her hut was like being stuffed into a cookstove.

The dark little room was just as I remembered it: sparsely furnished with only the barest necessities, a fire roaring in the tile oven, and Baghra huddled by it in her faded kefta. I was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone. A servant sat beside her, a young boy dressed in gray. He got to his feet as I entered, peering at me through the gloom.

“No visitors,” he said.

“By whose command?”

At the sound of my voice, Baghra looked up sharply.

She smacked her stick on the ground. “Leave, boy,” she commanded.

“But—”

“Go!” she snarled.

Just as pleasant as ever, I thought warily.

The boy scurried across the room and out of the hut without another word.

The door had barely shut when Baghra said, “I wondered when you’d make your way back here, little Saint.”

Trust Baghra to call me the one name I didn’t want to hear.

I was already sweating and had no desire to step closer to the fire, but I did it anyway, and crossed the room to sit in the chair the servant had vacated.

She turned toward the flames as I approached, showing me her back. She was in rare form today. I ignored the insult.

I sat silent for a moment, unsure of where to begin. “I was told you’d taken ill after I left.”

“Hmph.”

I didn’t want to know, but I made myself ask. “What did he do to you?”

She gave a dry laugh. “Less than he might have. More than he should.”

“Baghra—”

“You were meant to go to Novyi Zem. You were meant to disappear.”

“I tried.”

“No, you went hunting,” she sneered with a smack of her stick on the ground. “And what did you find? A pretty necklace to wear for the rest of your life? Come closer,” she said. “I want to know what I bought for my trouble.”

Obligingly, I leaned in. When she turned to me, I gasped.

Baghra had aged a lifetime since I’d seen her last. Her black hair was sparse and graying. Her sharp features had blurred. The taut slash of her mouth looked sunken and soft.

But that was not why I recoiled. Baghra’s eyes were gone. Where they should have been were two black pits, shadows writhing in their fathomless depths.

“Baghra,” I choked out. I reached for her hand, but she flinched away from my touch.

“Spare me your pity, girl.”

“What … what did he do to you?” My voice was little more than a whisper.

She gave another harsh laugh. “He left me in the dark.”

Her voice was strong, but sitting by the fire, I realized it was the only part of her that had remained unchanged. She’d been lean and hard, with the knife-sharp posture of an acrobat. Now, there was a slight tremor in her ancient hands, and her formerly wiry body just looked gaunt and frail.

“Show me,” she said, reaching out. I held still and let her run her hands over my face. The gnarled fingers moved like two white spiders, passing over my tears without interest, crawling down my jaw to the base of my throat, where they came to rest on the collar.

“Ah,” she breathed, her fingertips tracing the rough pieces of antler at my neck, her voice soft, almost wistful. “I would have liked to see his stag.”

I wanted to turn my head, to look away from the teeming black pools of her eyes. Instead, I pushed up my sleeve and grasped one of her hands. She tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip and laid her fingers over the fetter at my wrist. She went still.

“No,” she said. “It cannot be.”

She felt along the ridges of the sea whip’s scales.

“Rusalye,” she whispered. “What have you done, girl?”

Her words gave me hope. “You know about the other amplifiers.”

I winced as her fingers dug into my wrist. “Is it true?” she asked abruptly. “What they say he can do, that he can give life to shadow?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

Her hunched shoulders sagged even further. Then she cast my arm away as if it were something filthy. “Get out.”

“Baghra, I need your help.”

“I said, get out.”

“Please. I need to know where to find the firebird.”

Her sunken mouth trembled slightly. “I betrayed my son once, little Saint. What makes you think I would do it again?”

“You wanted to stop him,” I said hesitantly. “You—”

Baghra pounded the floor with her stick. “I wanted to keep him from becoming a monster! But it’s too late for that, isn’t it? Thanks to you, he is farther from human than he’s ever been. He’s long past any redemption.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But Ravka isn’t beyond saving.”

“What do I care what happens to this wretched country? Is the world so very fine that you think it worth saving?”

“Yes,” I said. “And I know you do too.”

“You couldn’t make a meat pie from what you know, girl.”

“Fine!” I said, my desperation overwhelming my guilt. “I’m an idiot. I’m a fool. I’m hopeless. That’s why I need your help.”