Page 23 of The Bone Doll
“You’re beautiful,” he said when he came up for air, tracing the shape of her lips.
“Are you trying to flatter me?” she said, her tone half-teasing and half-needy.
He groaned, bending his head to her neck. His mouth was warm, his teeth gently as he nibbled her delicate skin. And then he found her mouth again, kissing her so hard that she forgotwhere she ended and he began. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.
And they kissed and kissed and kissed – a tangle of mouths and hands and moans – until they both came up gasping for air.
The air smelled of fallen leaves and spring flowers; and the birds were twittering away around them. Syra couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this good. But all good things came to an end. Kissing him one last time, she stood and then helped him to his feet.
Chapter 15
The Lord of Zoldrovya
Viktor’s stomach hardened with every step he took down the narrow path that turned eastward. He was certainly the worst man alive, leading his unknowing lover to her doom. He had meant to tell her that his father meant to keep her, so that his father could control theleshy. But every time he tried, his throat constricted and he thought he might choke. Syra liked him. Shewantedhim. Her touches were like a dream from which he never wanted to wake. And he couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth and ruin what little time they had.
Syra would hate him soon enough.
“What’s the matter?” Syra touched his hand.
“Nothing.” Viktor smoothed his features. “I was just worrying about that thing we saw on the road.”
“You’ve never seen it before?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It was a screamer. I’ve never seen one. But I’ve never seen arusalkaeither.”
“The forest is angry.” She narrowed her eyes at the birch trees with their golden-green leaves. “Maybe it senses the Bone Doll.”
“It’s not the Bone Doll,” Viktor said. “The forest has been angry for a long time.”
The effects of the forest’s fury became apparent as they approached the manor house. The manor was half-ancientkremlin and half-new manse where generations of building clashed and melded together into an architectural monster. And while the manor used to have several acres of lawn and pastureland, now the forest closed inward. Trees and bramble stole the lawn and grew all the way to the house’s foundation; and thick ivy clawed its way up the walls, swallowing half the building. All that growth had happened in the past three years; and no matter how much Lord Igor’s serfs fought the forest, it grew back greater and closer.
Viktor explained it to Syra in hushed tones.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she scanned the manor and its destruction. “Thisis the creation of one spirit?”
“Theleshy.”
“I don’t know if I can dispel this creature,” she said.
“You’ve managed therusalkaand the screamer,” he said.
She shook her head. “It’s the Bone Doll. It has been pushing back those spirits, not me. Maybe the Bone Doll will fight theleshy, but I can’t control it.
A hope flickered in Viktor’s chest. If the Bone Doll forced theleshyaway, then his father might send her back to the tundra for being unable to control theleshy. Then, Viktor’s lies would come true and Syra might never know of his deceit.
He bit the inside of his cheek. His father might not have wanted the Bone Doll’s dispelling magic, but he might certainly put it to use. And Syra would still be stuck.
As they approached the manor, a servant greeted them and ushered them inside wordlessly. Though the forest encroached on the manor’s exterior, inside looked just as it always had. The floor and trim were done in the golden-hued birchwood that gave Zoldrovya, meaning “Golden Wood,” its name; and gilded murals depicting forest creatures shone in the sunlight trickling in from the windows. Everytime Viktor returned, he admitted that his parents’ home would be beautifulif not for the oppressive sense of dread that suffocated him when he entered.
Lord Igor Sviatopolkovich sat on a red-upholstered chair in front of a colossal birchwood desk in the manor’s study, a ledger and pen in his hands. He did not look up. “I sent you to find magic, and you come back with a tundra woman.”
Viktor felt Syra stiffen beside him, and he took a deep breath. He had been too much of a coward to defend her in Kholm, but he could be different here. If only he mustered the courage to face his father head-on. “Syra is a Sarnok shaman. She carries a magical artifact that I think will work.”
She glanced at him sidelong with a flicker of appreciation.
Lord Igor ran his tongue across his teeth. “All right,moy mudak. Whatisthis magical artifact she has?”
Syra pulled the Bone Doll from her borrowed belt purse. As though it knew it was on display, the figurine lay dormant, looking like nothing more than an ornament. “This is the Bone Doll. My grandfather used it to bind spirits.”
