Epilogue

EPILOGUE

T he woods parted. A snowy plain unrolled in front of them. A frozen river flowed through it, coiling in a ring, its surface slick like glass and a deep midnight-blue. In the loop of the river, poised against the distant forest and low, snow-capped mountains, a terem rose.

Crafted from pure white snow with huge, oval windows and panels of light blue ice, it perched upon the island like a fantastic, many-tiered wedding cake of a building. Six towers of various heights and widths thrust toward the sky, each more ornate than the last, their cupolas frosted with crushed teal ice and topped with ice spires that looked like sword blades. Lavish balconies with carved rails hugged the towers, snaking between them at different heights. A bridge stretched in a graceful curve across the water to the shore.

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.

Time to test the waters. Roman met his god's gaze.

Angry?

The left corner of Chernobog's severe mouth quirked. The answer exploded in Roman's mind.

YOU ARE MY VOLHV.

A strange feeling filled Roman. It was as if the world had been tilted slightly off-kilter, and now it suddenly righted itself. Power coursed through him, bringing relief, peace, and hope.

Morena gave him a sharp smile.

"You two should go. I will send Finn to you after we speak."

Nav tore in half.

Roman opened his eyes. He stood on his porch.

Potholes covered the yard, the ground plowed here and there by random tracks, some still oozing with ichor. The remnants of the bone hands stuck out of the dirt. The porch was a mess of shattered boards, scarred with burns from the yellow goo. The front window lay shattered in his living room. The door and the front wall were full of holes.

And they still didn't know where the priest and the warrior had come from or if whoever sent them would try again.

He sighed.

The door behind him creaked. Farhang stumbled out into the daylight, his face bright and bewildered. The pack of nechist spilled out onto the porch with him, Roro in the lead.

"I am…myself." Farhang grinned at Roman. "I am myself, my friend!"

He scooped one of the kolovershi up and spun around with it. The little beast squealed. Farhang let it go and half-ran, half-jumped onto the yard, flinging his arms wide.

The kolovershi followed. Roro thought about it, sidled up to Andora instead, and licked her hand. " Roro. "

Andora absentmindedly petted Roro's head.

The iron hound slunk out onto the porch, hesitant. Behind him, the anchutka crawled out, blinking at the sunlight.

Farhang laughed, making weird little circles.

"How long did you say he was stuck?" Andora asked.

"Three years, he thinks."

"Ah. That would explain the frolicking."

Farhang wandered down the driveway, hopped over a puddle of goo that used to be the mercenary sniper, and took off into the woods, spinning his arms. The kolovershi trailed him, clearly concerned.

"They won't let him wander too far off," Roman told her.

The house behind them creaked. They turned to look at it.

Darkness slithered up the walls. The glass shards lifted from the floor and reassembled into a window. The holes in the door and the porch closed. The yellow goo vanished, leaving unscarred stone in its wake. The house was as it had been. The yard was still a mess, though, but he was not one to look a gift from a god in its mouth.

Thank you.

"I guess you are forgiven for your tantrum," Andora said.

"You know about that, too?"

"Oh, I watched it. It was a glorious rant." She laughed softly.

"Did Morena show it to you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Do all the gods talk to you?" he asked, resigned.

"Most of them. Some more than others. I'm starving. I don't suppose you have anything to eat?"

"There might be some leftovers." Roman said. "I had eggnog and cookies but the nechist stole them all."

"Do you have the ingredients, Roman?"

"Um…"

"Eggs, sugar, cream? Things like that?"

"Yes."

Andora nodded. "I will make you cookies and eggnog. It will give us time to chat while Finn and Morena finish talking."

He opened his mouth to say something.

"It's Koliada, after all. We must at least have cookies." Andora nodded to him. "Come on, Black Volhv. Show me your pantry. We will be going to visit your family tonight. You will need cookies and eggnog to get through it."

The End