Page 47 of Tiger's Tale
Danik scoffed. “Even if they were simply average tigers, which I assure you they are not, they would be strong enough.”
“Okay,” Nik said. “We’ll try it. But you must stay together,” he warned the tigers. “And if you tire, stop. Agreed?”
Veru made the chuffing sound, and Stacia echoed it. They moved next to each other and waited. Hoisting their packs, both men headed toward Veru. When Nik insisted he take Veru, Danik held up his hands, not wanting to argue. Danik tried throwing a leg over Stacia, but he was violently repelled as if thrown off by magic hands.
Nic tried with Veru, and the same thing happened. They tried again with the same results.
As they laid in the snow, Veru and Stacia switched, each heading to the other man. This time Danik was a bit more reluctant to try, but when Veru nudged his boot, he got up. He stuck a foot in a stirrup and swung his leg over, settling successfully into the golden saddle. Nik frowned and hurriedly did the same with Stacia.
Still moody, Nik dug his heels into Stacia’s sides, earning him an irritated growl from the big cat. She headed over to her sister regardless. “Now remember to stay close to us. You’ll have to lead since you know the direction of the town.”
“That’s if I can find it in this mess.”
“Let’s pray you do. Or even this miracle might not save us.”
With that, Veru and Stacia began to run, picking up speed and stretching their legs. The men bent over their bodies, trying to shield their faces from the stinging snow and ice.
Though Nik could tell Danik was communicating directions to Veru by bending close enough to her ear so she could hear his voice, to him it looked like the murmuring of a lover, and it chafed him worse than the leather saddle beneath him.
Hour after grueling hour, they pressed on, and then somehow, through the ice and snow and awful dark of night, Nik spotted a light, then two, and three, and suddenly, before him was a surprisingly welcome and familiar sight. Even though Nik had never been back to a church again since that Christmastide service so very long ago, knowing he had nothing to believe in and could never trust anyone again, there was something about seeing those soaring onion domes, belfries, and chapels that promised warmth and safety that made him desperately wish he was wrong.
16
IN RUSSIA, THE CHURCH DOMES ARE PAINTED GOLD, SO GOD TAKES NOTICE
Danik pressed forward to a stone wall that surrounded the church and reached up to find a hidden lever. Once they were inside the wall and had the gate secured behind them, the tall trees and the high wall blocked out a good deal of the wind. The two-story building was fairly large for such a small town and even appeared to be sporting not one, not three, but five domes.
Nik’s little church had only raised one dome. He wasn’t certain that more domes meant more faith in the membership or more importance to God or even a larger populace, but more domes certainly meant more cost in construction. Danik led them around the back end of the church to a smaller structure and opened the barn door, letting them inside.
Once the doors were shut, they all shook the snow off their bodies and found a clean, empty stall far away from the other animals. The few horses, milk cows, and nanny goats made a fuss at first when they smelled the large predators who entered their cozy little home, but luckily the church didn’t own too many farm animals, and they settled down quick enough when the tigers left them alone.
Danik thought this behavior very odd. Under normal circumstances, any prey animal should have driven themselves crazy, kicking the stall and screaming until the priests rose from their beds to find out the cause of the ruckus. He suspected the storm was the cause of their strange behavior, while Nik argued it was likely the magic.
Even if Veru or Stacia had an opinion on the matter, they either didn’t care overmuch, or realized they couldn’t communicate their thoughts on the subject regardless. Whichever was the case, the twins were exhausted from their long run and collapsed on the hay Danik and Nikolai spread out for them in the stall. Letting them rest, Danik set out to find a few supplies left in the barn for travelers. He returned with some blankets, a lantern, and a large metal can stuffed with kindling.
When the lantern was lit and the fire had been started, he filled a pot with water from an ice-crusted barrel outside, brewed them both some tea, and began cooking a pot of oats from the feed left for the horses. Then he filled the trough with water for the tigers. “I’ll have to hunt or trade furs for meat for the two of you in the morning,” he said. “For now you should rest. I know you’re hungry from that run. Let’s see if we can get those saddles off you.”
Veru and Stacia looked at one another. Both were weary to the bone. They stood again, shaking the last of the melting snow off themselves, and Veru took a step toward Danik. Then, before he could touch it, the saddle shifted, moving and shrinking. Stacia’s moved of its own accord as well. Soon they’d transformed once again into laces that slipped off their backs and drew in on themselves until they formed just one boot each. The tigers danced, backing up in the small stall, and the snow boots slipped off their paws, forming human-sized footwear once more.
Nik picked them up and placed them in his pack. After a long drink, Veru and Stacia slumped down in the straw on their sides and closed their eyes. “I’m worried about them,” Nik said. “Running with the boots takes a lot out of you. Eating is necessary after a long run.”
Danik stroked his cheek. “I could try to wake the rector. See if he has any meat. I’m not sure how he’d handle it if I tried to ask for a quantity large enough to feed them. I was hoping to disappear before I had to explain their presence. Or ours, for that matter.”
“There’s a goat back there. We could give them that.”
“I’m not sure the priest would take too kindly to the idea of losing his favorite cheesemaker.”
“Like you said, we’d disappear before he knew.”
Danik grew cross. “Perhaps you soldiers take what you want, but that’s not how it works out here in the hinterlands. The rule we abide by is to leave behind as much as you take or work it off. And if you can’t recompense those who give appropriately, then you leave double or even triple the next time around. If all of us took without giving, people would stop making a place for us, and then where would we be? Traveling is difficult enough as it is. All it takes is a few unscrupulous people to ruin it for the rest of us. I, for one, don’t want to be stuck out here without a safe haven. That’s as good as a death sentence. Isn’t it?”
Nik held up his hands. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But I’m warning you—if I think Veru is failing, I’ll cut off your arm and feed that to her before I let her die.”
“Believe me, I won’t let it get that far. I’m a trapper. I’ll keep them alive. Besides, you’re the city boy. You probably smell more like home cooking than I do. I’m sure she’d rather eat you first.”
“Shut up,” Nik said, kicking some straw, getting dust in Danik’s mouth, and making the fire spark.
“Stop acting like a soplyak,” Danik said, banging the cookpot with the metal spoon. “You’ll start a fire. An uncontrollable one, I mean.” Bending over to stir the meal and grunting in satisfaction, he scooped some oats into a dish and thrust it into Nik’s hands. “Here, eat and try to sleep.” Picking up his own bag, he took the pot with the remaining hot oats and stood up. “I’m going to set some traps. I’ll be back in a bit.”
