The Volk Advent (11 page)

Chobo stumbled, fell on one shoulder, and skidded across the courtyard.

I jumped over a long, gray object that sat in the middle of the path. The fish! I grabbed a fist full of her ruff and yanked Chobo to her feet. Her furry paws churned up the snow as I shoved her toward the chapel.

A chorus and long howls broke the bright morning quiet. Then the pack came. Sleek and lean, they ran fast as shadow and air. Their song made every hair on the back of my neck stand on end and froze the breath in my lungs even as I ran.

Liev bolted from the chapel. He got to us before the wolves and shoved me inside. Then he turned, kicked into the space where I had been standing and slammed the door on the sound of a yelp and a snarl.

I sank into one of the dented wooden pews and quietly hyperventilated.

Liev stood at one of the stained glass windows, watching the wolves. After a moment he walked toward the door. On his way past he stopped, squeezed my hand, and took a breath as though he might say something. The moment was etched upon the air between us. But then he turned and slipped the bolt on the door. He eased outside and slammed the door shut behind him.

I rushed to the window.

Liev jogged across the empty courtyard. Snow swirled around his feet and the sun glinted from the icy branches of decorative trees and an arching arbor whose flowering vine appeared twisted and dead in the January light. He slipped up against the garden wall and shuffled toward the gate. A quick peek inside and he paused, counting.

I waited, my chest aching and tight.

Liev counted again, then he grabbed the heavy brass ring and heaved the gate shut.

I pressed my forehead against the glass and let the air sigh from my lungs. He'd made it. The wolves were trapped and Liev was fine. I clenched my fists until they ceased their trembling and then scrambled to my feet and reached for the door.

Wolves: check!

Now all we needed was my killer.

18

Ms. Melora Insults My Dog

Rhys Adaire paced in front of the garden wall.

I paced with him.

Chobo sat by the gate, peeking through a crack in the wall at the wolves. They were playing their part with gusto, snapping and snarling over the heap of frozen fish. But would Chobo perform her duty or bound around in the snow woo woo wooing, instead?

The crunch of footsteps came from across the snowy courtyard.

Rhys Adaire put a hand on my shoulder and shoved me back until I bumped the garden wall. “You stay there.” His voice was a little too loud. In the clear winter morning it carried to Ms. Melora perfectly.

Her smirk indicated she'd heard the TV man's harsh tone.

“What do you have for me, Adaire? I see the girl, but what is this about Kirill?”

“I had no idea you were so industrious, Melora. The girl figured it out and told me everything. But you have a problem. Volkov isn't dead. The girl dragged him off somewhere and has hidden him.”

“Kirill Volkov is in danger? We must find him at once.”

I bit my lip.

Ms. Melora wasn't being very helpful. If she didn't admit to anything on camera, my brilliant plan was a bust, and I would pay for murder.

“Don't play coy, I know what you've done.”

Ms. Melora simply smiled and gazed over Adaire's head at the garden. “Why are the wolves out of their pen? Surely Mr. Volkov would not want them trampling his garden, even in January.” The woman played her part with conviction and style, I had to give her that.

It was time to shake things up. I looked at the corner of the wall where I could just see Liev's eyes, peering back. I nodded.

He nodded back.

A moment later Chobo came bounding toward us.

I screamed and screamed and screamed, like a hapless blonde in the grasp of a monstrous ape. Chobo thundered over. When she jumped up, I crumpled and managed to increase my screams of terror. I squeezed a handful of opened ketchup packets from Rhys Adaire's limo and thrashed around in the snow. A red stain painted the ground. I shuddered. “Snack time!” I whispered.

Chobo crouched low and began to snarl.

I twitched again and lay still.

Rhys Adaire gasped and stumbled backwards into Ms. Melora. “They missed one. Oh, my goodness. One of the wolves is loose!” He gave a strangled cry, flung his coffee cup skyward, and hot footed it across the courtyard toward one of the arches in the castle's lowest level.

Ms. Melora gave a girlish shriek and stumbled after him.

Wow? It worked. Except Ms. Melora had yet to say even a single incriminating word and was hustling away from the cameras at a remarkable speed for an older lady wearing sensible shoes…um…boots, that is.

I jumped up and took off after her.

Liev was ahead of me, running near the bottom of the outer wall.

I poured on the speed, wishing I had thought to tell him to bring snacks. Everyone else had broken their fast with the twelve course Holy Supper on Christmas Eve. My stomach growled, despite my imminent peril. Thoughts of pagach bread dipped in honey and tiny poppy seed filled bobal'ki biscuits assailed my mind. The remembered scent of sweet kutya porridge, savory beans, and new potatoes drenched in butter made me feel more than a little faint as I tried my best to sprint after Liev.

Despite the danger, a grand Christmas feast suddenly materialized within my mind. The kind of feast that those in the village would enjoy tonight. Stuffed boar's head, sour cream hare, and flaky kurnik with mushrooms and chicken.

Even if I hadn't had a murder rap and slavering wolves to contend with, the imaginary feast would not have been part of my imminent future. These delicacies were not orphanage fare. But even so, I had enjoyed a few tastes of the Christmas feast, just enough to let me know what I was missing.

Even if the boar's head proved too spendy, Liev's family would be having Siberian dumplings packed with sausage, blini topped with caviar, creamy potato and salmon salad, and blueberry
tartaletki
with lemon sour cream. I knew because the priest's family often brought treats to the children after the holiday. These secondhand nibbles of the village celebration made up my Christmas memories.

Rhys Adaire ducked into a dark archway at the base of the castle.

Ms. Melora was close behind, but she stumbled to a stop just outside the entrance.

Chobo galloped up to her, still snarling.

Liev and I were on their heels, staying just out of sight.

Ms. Melora spun on Chobo, laughing. “Good,” she paused to pull in a few wheezing breaths, “I have you all here.”

Chobo crouched low as she crept toward the orphanage director. Her snarls remained the same, but there was a droop to her tail that gave me concern. Was she losing her nerve now that the prey had turned to face her? Chobo had been the runt of the litter. Friendly and full of charm if all was well, but prone to trembling and flight if even a large butterfly or fierce mouse approached her favorite bone.

I'd probably picked her because the frightened animal was so much like me. Neither of us had what it took. My years in the orphanage had proven that much. I had only done the right thing when no one was looking.

But everyone was watching now.

Ms. Melora braced one hand against the stone wall and kicked Chobo full in the face with her heavy, booted foot. Chobo tumbled on her furry rear. Ms. Melora shoved her with a foot and Chobo yipped and rolled down the dark stone stair within the arch.

Rhys Adaire cried out from the darkness below

There was a rush of air as Liev charged past me after his dog.

Ms. Melora slammed her shoulder against the thick oak door. It grated across the cold tiles of the courtyard. She pulled back to shove it one more time but a streak of gray fur burst through the narrow opening. Ms. Melora smashed the door shut and lunged toward Chobo. But the dog tucked her tail and disappeared around the back of the castle.

The orphanage director made a dismissive gesture in the direction of Chobo's flight and pulled a thick padlock out of her coat pocket. She clamped the lock over the heavy metal door pieces that I had presumed were decorative.

Chobo was nowhere in sight and my stalwart companions were trapped in the lower reaches of the castle without a light.

I stepped toward the arch.

Ms. Melora turned to me and smiled. “Now, my girl, where have you stashed our dear Mr. Volkov?”

19

The Wolves Are Not Contained

I took a step back. “Oh, you know…he's somewhere safe, recovering.”

“Yes, recovering from three gunshot wounds in the chest and multiple wolf bites. How goes his convalescence?”

Ha! That was as good as a confession. I glanced up at the wall by the guard towers. Too far, they were too far away. I needed her to confess right by the garden where the camera crew had hidden a mic. I smiled and took another step back. I couldn't do this. I just couldn't. But where could I run? Where could I go? “You seem well informed.” I managed to gasp out as I eased backward.

Wow, three shots to the chest. I hadn't taken the time to inspect Kirill Volkov's wounds, what with all of my panicking and my concern over the newly freed wolves. Ms. Melora had to be the killer. Who else would be privy to those details?

She seemed to read my mind. “I listen to the gossip, that is all.”

I backed up some more.

Ms. Melora followed me, the smile still grim and bright upon her face.

“There's gossiping going on in the middle of the night? Because his niece didn't find him until after dark and most everyone was home enjoying The Holy Supper. Why would anyone be out gossiping with you?”

She lunged for me then.

I darted back, spun, and sprinted toward the enclosed wall of the garden. I was running again, but if this was my last flight, the least I could do was run in the right direction. Chobo may not have changed, but I was not the same trembling little girl who had been carried into the orphanage eight years ago.

Last night I had said “no” to Ms. Melora. I had refused to ignore the children in the long gray cribs around me and I had walked—well, kind of stumbled actually—out of that door on my own two feet. I was not the same girl at all.

I heaved in icy breaths and ran for my life. The problem: I was pretty sure Ms. Melora had eaten in the last twenty-four hours. In fact, she probably hadn't been fasting on Christmas Eve at all. So while the woman was older and not wearing totally awesome Liev-made valenki like me, she had food in her belly and a good night's rest to fuel her pursuit. Also, something about our conversation was niggling at the back of my mind, even as I ran.

Yes, recovering from three gunshot wounds in the chest and multiple wolf bites
.

Ms. Melora had a gun! Forget the food and the rest, the woman could just skid right to a stop and blast me to pieces from a distance. I pumped my arms, hoping they would inspire my leaden legs to pick up the pace. I glanced over my shoulder. Why wasn't she shooting? Could she actually believe my ridiculous story about Mr. Volkov?

A shot rent the air.

My ears rang with the echo as it ricocheted off the stone walls.

Nope, she did not believe my story after all. Serpentine, my stressed-out brain supplied a word and an image of a TV detective running back and forth to avoid gunfire. I immediately did likewise, although the icy ground made sudden turns morph into skidding slides.

Two more shots. Apparently Ms. Melora wasn't used to a moving target.

I remained un-maimed, although I moved slower and slower. My lungs seemed about to crack, as if a crust of ice was forming on the inside of my chest after sucking in such great gulps of -40 degree air.

I made it to the garden. I skidded to a stop, bracing my mittens against the icy stones before I hit the garden enclosure. I pushed off and ran parallel to the wall, past the garden gate, and toward the corner.

We were in view of the cameras, but Ms. Melora was doing a whole lot of shooting and not much confessing.

Another shot split the air. This time it was close. Sharp chips of stone sprayed from the rock as the bullet dug into the wall ahead of me. Serpentine! I'd been running straight along the wall. One more shot echoed around me. It zipped by my shoulder and I choked on my haggard breaths.

Serpentine, serpentine, serpent… I stumbled over my own feet. This was it. I could barely move. At least I would be killed quickly, instead of torn apart by wolves.

I stumbled again, but managed the two more steps that got me around the corner. I could go no further. I slumped against the garden wall, sliding down the cold gray barrier until I sat in a heap at its base.

The muscles in my legs trembled and cramped and burned with fatigue. I retched into the snow, but my stomach held nothing but acid. My lungs were full of icy fire. I choked as my body demanded air faster than I could supply it.

Where was Ms. Melora? Shouldn't she have shot me by now?

Instead of the sound of a gunshot, or the crunch of boots upon the snow, a low groaning creak came from around the corner. I sat in confusion for a moment. Then I felt the blood drain from my face.

She'd opened the garden gate.

Ms. Melora had released the wolves.

A smug voice came from around the corner. “You are very fast, little girl. But I am curious. What on earth could be inside this lovely garden? Let us find this out together.”

Ack! Even this was not enough to constitute a confession. Her words were malicious and threatening to me, as I waited to be torn to shreds by wolves. But would they portray malevolent intent on video? Would her actions seem like a tragic accident or the murder of a falsely accused orphan?

I had to get more, but the wolves would be creeping toward the garden gate by now. Had they eaten their fill of frozen fish or was a traumatized girl too irresistible a delicacy to decline?

My legs trembled and the muscles clenched tight as I attempted to rise. I looked across the courtyard. I had run to the side of the garden that faced the castle.