Rosa and the Veil of Gold (15 page)

“I beseech the moon and all the stars…”

Rosa realised he was performing magic and moved closer to the gate to peek around the pillar. He turned in each direction, begging assistance of all the shadows from the north, the south, the east and west. He broke a glass at his feet and cut his palm on the shards as the zagovor grew more and more complex. Rosa focused on his voice, which was passionate, almost desperate. What was the spell for?

Finally, he crumpled to his knees and threw back his head. Clearly and loudly, he announced his intention. “As this blood soaks the earth and is absorbed within it, so may Nikita Kirygin’s revenant spirit be absorbed into the night sky and leave my girl alone.” He let his head fall forward, his voice dropping. “My word is firm, so it shall be.”

Rosa moved back into the shadow of the fence and closed her eyes a second. Now she understood what poison infected the heart of the Chenchikov family.

They were being haunted by Elizavetta’s dead husband.

As the sun rose full on the first day of the journey, the clouds on the horizon burned off and the sky dazzled Daniel’s eyes. It was silver-blue at first glance, but he had the sense that if he looked deep—behind dense layers of air and light—there lurked swells of green and aches of violet. He was so preoccupied with trying to define how these impressions of colour were created that he lost his fear for a while in wonder.

The leshii’s well-worn path from the cottage to the woods was wide enough for them to walk side by side. New growth sprouted everywhere, the sun and shadows playing on the sticky new leaves. Under his feet, remnants of the previous year’s autumn were scuffed and displaced. Daniel glanced at Em. Without make-up, in an unforgiving shaft of summer light, her skin was sallow around her eyes giving her a tired appearance. The roughly sewn travelling outfit was bulky and ill-fitting on her slender frame, and her hair was tucked under a dirty woollen cap. Despite all this, she still had a glamour about her, the spell of her resolute determination and uncanny mental abilities. She was pretty too, of course, but “pretty” seemed almost a ridiculous word to apply to such a serious, shrewd creature.

“What are you looking at, Daniel?” she asked, without glancing in his direction.

He averted his eyes. “Sorry, I was…admiring the stitching on your…coat. You’re full of hidden skills, aren’t you?”

She didn’t respond and Daniel fell two or three steps behind her to nurse his embarrassment. The path widened in front of them.
The woods grew thinner, giving way to maple and elm, and silver-leaf birch which shimmered against the soft breeze. The light moved differently on the leaves here, illuminating sinuous and unexpected colours: a touch of blue-green in the darker leaves, a shiver of gold in the pale maples. Daniel had to admit, despite his longing to be back home in his own world, that this place was beautiful.

“How long do you think we should walk before taking a break?” Em called.

Daniel caught up to her. “What do you think?”

“We don’t want to walk until we drop. We’ll get further if we take regular rests. Perhaps every hour?”

“All right. Yes.”

“We’ll camp around sunset. Are you still happy to take the early sleep?”

“Are you still happy to take the late one?”

She stopped and turned to him, a patient smile on her lips. “You decide. It will be character building.”

“Okay, I’ll take the early sleep.”

“Good.” She resumed her pace. “The days are getting longer, and we can’t expect eight hours each a night. Three or four should do us. I’m certain it will only be in the short-term. A few days and we’ll be home in our own beds.”

Daniel allowed himself to be persuaded by her positive tone.

The path widened again, and a slope dropped away on their right. Daniel could see now that they walked the ridge of a hill. From up here, he viewed a rolling landscape of golden-green light and blue-violet shadows. The sky was an enormous clear vault above them. The sight took his breath away.

“Wow,” said Em, her eyes as wide as a child’s.

“It’s—”

“Beautiful,” she finished for him. “Though that word feels very mundane.”

Two black birds took off from a tree nearby, skimming off into the distance. Daniel watched them disappear. “So do you really think it will only take a few days to find the Snow Witch?”

“Maybe. Maybe a week.”

Daniel tried to discern whether she really believed this but she was, as ever, impenetrable.

“Fork in the road,” she said, indicating ahead where the path turned back into woodland.

“East and east and north a-ways,” Daniel said.

“North it is, then,” she said.

They moved back into the shade, and Daniel thought he heard a rustle and a clunk off the path. “What if we don’t find her that soon?” he said. “What if we wander for weeks or—”

“Let’s play a game,” she said. “List every animal you can think of starting with an ‘a’.”

“I’m sick of lists.”

“What then?”

He regarded her in the dappled light of the woods. “Have you ever done anything really dumb?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, then. Tell me the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Then I’ll tell you.”

Em shrugged. “I was at university, in a sociology exam. The question called for a two-page answer, but I misread it as a two-paragraph answer.”

“Did you fail the exam?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Daniel repressed a laugh. “I think you’ve misunderstood what I meant by dumb,” he said. “I guess I meant embarrassing, funny, ridiculous.”

“Oh.”

“For example,” Daniel said, warming to the topic and keen to shut out the sound of unknown things moving amongst the trees. “About a year ago, I went for a job interview. I’m not good at interviews, so I was very tense and it was for quite a high-paid job as a research co-ordinator with the BBC. The interview panel was three men, all dressed in grey suits and very sombre-looking. One was a human resources officer, a plump florid chap with a bowl haircut. We were in his office, grouped under a window. I referred to him respectfully as ‘sir’ throughout, but as the interview wore on he became more and more icy towards me. I couldn’t figure out what I was saying or doing wrong, and became really nervous and
desperate to impress him. The other two seemed anxious about the tension between us. Everything was falling apart, and in my desperation I started toadying to him, saying things like, ‘a man of your great standing’ and so on…other embarrassing things.”

They were walking up a gentle incline now, and Daniel took a minute to catch his breath. “The final straw came when I was leaving, and I caught a glimpse of a photograph on his desk. A very attractive young woman. I picked it up and said, ‘Is this your beautiful wife?’

“He replied, ‘No, that’s my daughter.’

“I was mortified, of course, and made to cover my loss quickly by saying, ‘You must be a very proud father.’

“He couldn’t stand it a moment longer. He snatched the photo from me and said, ‘In fact, I’m a very proud
mother
’.”

Em began to chuckle.

“I immediately reassessed the situation, realised that despite her mannish suit and haircut she was, indeed, a woman. I had no idea what to say, realised nothing could fix it, but still found my tongue galloping away with me.

“‘I thought you were a man,’ I said, then instantly regretting this, I added, ‘I expect I won’t get this job.’

“They agreed and saw me out.”

Em smiled. “Okay, yes. That’s pretty dumb.”

“Your turn.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “Back home, my first break was reading the traffic report live on the radio during drivetime. One morning, there had been an accident on the corner of Hoob Road, but I read it as an accident ‘on the corner of Boob Road’. My colleagues thought that was pretty funny.”

“It is funny,” Daniel said. “Were you embarrassed?”

“No. It was just a mistake, and a fairly easy one to make, don’t you think?”

“Um…yes.”

Em gave him a bright smile. “Go on, ask another question.”

“All right, then. Your most disastrous date.”

“Hmm,” she said, brushing a bug off her wrist. “I’d have to think about that. They’ve all been pretty awful.”

“I hadn’t picked you for unlucky in love,” Daniel said.

“Why not?” she asked sharply.

“I…just…you’re so sure of yourself in every other aspect…I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologise. I’m very unlucky in love, Daniel.”

Daniel’s curiosity had been aroused. “You must have had a few good dates. I mean, you were married weren’t you?”

“Yes, briefly.”

“Long enough to have a child.”

She sighed. They walked in silence for a few moments, then she said, “I’d rather not talk about it. You tell me your worst date story. I’m better at listening.”

The mood had become too serious now. “They’ve all been pretty bad, I guess.”

“Even with Rosa?”

“Especially with Rosa.” Daniel realised that he had forgotten Rosa’s promise for next time they met: to tell him the reason they couldn’t be together. Out here, in this strange place infested with bad magic, he began to doubt that he would ever know.

The trees opened up again on another wide view of the land.

“And it looked like such a perfect day at first,” Em said.

“What do you mean?”

She indicated grey clouds building in the south. “Let’s hope the weather holds.”

Em woke just before dawn. Something had troubled her out of sleep. She lay still for a moment, cracking her eyes open a fraction. Was it the aches and pains of her body? Her feet were sore; her calf muscles were tight from a full day of walking. Daniel’s back was turned to her, in silhouette from the fire. He’d confessed his apprehension about his first night watch out here in the open spaces of Skazki, but Em had noticed he was more and more in control of his fear.

Drip.

That’s what had woken her. A raindrop.

She noticed that Daniel’s face was turned to the sky. The stars were cloaked in rainclouds. Em sat up.

“Is it raining?”

“Not yet,” he said, turning to her. “Just spitting. Maybe it will blow over.”

She reached her hands out for the low flames of the fire.

“You’re awake early,” he said. “Do you want to eat something?”

“Just one pancake.”

“Have two. We need the energy for all the walking.” He opened the backpack of food, and they ate silently.

“Everything went well on your shift?” she asked.

“I heard noises…but a long way off.”

Em turned her glance into the dense woods. They were camped under a towering birch tree. “What do you think is in there?”

Daniel didn’t answer. The rain grew heavier, dripping off the branches above them and sizzling in the fire.

“I was just sitting here thinking about home,” Daniel said quietly. “About soft blankets, and electricity, and instant noodles. All those ordinary things we take for granted.”

Em heard the sad longing in his voice. She examined her own feelings. Yes, she would very much like to be home. She would very much like to be dressed in a fine woollen suit, with Italian boots, cruising the shops at Knightsbridge. But the situation was different and, for now, all her energy had to be directed at resolving the problem. She didn’t like it, but it didn’t make her sad.

“I’m sure we’ll be home very soon,” she said. “Perhaps today we’ll meet somebody who can help us and be on our way.”

“Yes, but that somebody might prefer to eat us than help us.”

“We have gold. We’ll be safe.” She looked up. In the glow of the firelight, the illuminated raindrops were spinning down towards them. “We should gather a bundle of dry firewood while we can. We’re going to get wet.”

“We have a moleskin.”

“One moleskin. Two people.”

“We’ll have to share it,” Daniel said, and Em could tell this embarrassed him. In his imagination, perhaps it was the fateful moment in a movie where the male lead and the female love interest are forced into proximity.

She pulled out the moleskin and unfolded it. “Never mind. I’m sure the rain won’t last long.”

That was the last of the positive talk she forced on Daniel, for not only did the rain last, it set in and looked like it might stay
for weeks. Day broke weakly, the sky was the purple-grey of bruises, and the rain thundered down. They stayed close under the moleskin, shuffling slowly on the sodden path, as rainwater filled their shoes. The woods were drowning, the ground turning to mud. Birds sat mournfully on their perches, immobile and ruffled as they waited out the deluge.

Em and Daniel travelled wordlessly. All their concentration was focused simply on putting one foot in front of the other without slipping. They stopped after two hours. Drank a little water. Continued wordlessly. The woods were changing now, becoming flatter and sparser. The path was less well-trodden, sometimes just an overgrown muddy strip. Still they walked and still it rained. Finally, when Em spied an elm with low-hanging branches, she declared a stop to the day’s misery.

“We can hang the moleskin here,” she said, raising her hands to run along the low bough. “Then we can light a fire under it.”

“The ground’s wet,” said Daniel.

“Everything’s wet, and getting wetter. We might have to wait out this rain.”

Daniel agreed, and they set up camp. A spare fur went on the wet grass, the moleskin was affixed to the tree, and a fire was lit with the dry wood they had collected earlier. Em wasn’t comfortable, but nor was she freezing and soaked. She settled close to the fire and Daniel did the same, his chin in his hands, gazing at the flames.

“This is unbearable,” he said.

“We have to bear it.”

“We’re lost, we’re wet, we’re surrounded by supernatural dangers—”

“We’ve been walking for two days and haven’t seen anything dangerous at all.”

“Believe me, if the leshii is real, then so are the others.”

“Go on, then,” Em said, experiencing a delicate lick of fear. “I should know what we might be up against.”

“Demons who can turn your blood to ice. Water spirits who drown children to keep them company. Witches and wizards who travel on the wind, or who hunger for human flesh…” His voice grew thin.

“But nothing so far,” Em reminded him. “So far, we’ve been safe, and we’re safe right now, if a little wet.” She patted his knee. “Come on, let’s play more games.”

“No more lists.”

“No, no more lists.” She had worked out by now that Daniel was best distracted in talking about people and feelings. “Tell me your earliest memory.”

Daniel dropped his hands and clasped them around his knees. “You go first this time.”

“Okay.” She tucked her hands under her cloak. “My dad was a housepainter, and one day my mother was sick so I went to work with him. He was painting this enormous house with a tall white fence. I remember it very clearly. I crawled up to it before the paint was dry, and touched it. My palm was white, and I smeared it all over my clothes.”

“You say you crawled up to it?”

“Yes.”

“How old were you?”

She shrugged. “About seven or eight months, I suppose.”