Page 114 of Tiger's Trek
“Perhaps, before we continue, we need to make sure certain things aren’t heard by the w-r-o-n-g sort of people.” Nik then asked the little girl, “Who, my dear, are you? And why are you with Zakhar?”
“She’s, um... she’s someone we came across along the way. We offered to take her with us in exchange for help from her aunties,” Zakhar explained.
“That’s right,” Zima said, lowering her delicate eyebrows in a scowl that made her look somehow more adorable. “And I’m notwrong. My aunties said so. I was made absolutely correct. Besides, I’m helping you.”
“I see,” Nik replied. “My apologies, then. And, um, how do youhelp, exactly?”
“I share my gifts.”
“Right. And what gifts might those be?”
Zakhar held up a hand. His expression held great alarm, but Nik ignored him. Nothing was more pressing to Nikolai at the moment than his need to urinate, yet he desperately did not want to leave the tent to do so.
“This is one of them,” Zima said, pulling an ornate timepiece from a knapsack. “Would you like to know your future? I’ve been helping Lyudmila with some of her customers.”
“Sure,” Nik said, hoping indulging her would distract him from his other, baser needs. “Why not?”
He answered her at the exact same moment Zakhar leaned across the table, saying, “Zima, no! Not him!”
The little girl turned to Zakhar and said, “You know I need to share my gift with those I feel is right. This one needs to see.”
Wincing, Zakhar reluctantly nodded while Nik glanced between them in confusion. “What is it I need to see, little one?”
“You need to meet Death.”
“Meet... Death?” Nik raised an eyebrow, glancing between Zakhar and Zima, but neither explained further.
Adjusting the clockwork on the top, the little girl angled the dials toward Nik, twisting them back and forth until she was satisfied, and then, when all was ready, she flipped the device upside down.
Nik stared in fascination as white sand began falling... up, mixing with black, twisting and turning in a spiral. Then the particles passed through one another, filling opposite sides of the timepiece.
Quietly, Zakhar took a bottle of ink and a pen from his bag, along with a fresh sheet of paper, and dipped his quill twice. With a flourish, he wrote Nik’s full name across the top of the sheet and then slid it over.
“In case you want to write anything down,” he said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
As he rose from his chair, Nik said, “I don’t understand. You don’t have to leave. What’s supposed to be happening?”
“You’ll see,” Zakhar said softly. His smile was sad and apologetic. “I’m sorry, but I don’t like staying for these. I’ll return when it’s over.”
Before Nik could further protest, Zakhar was gone, and he was left alone with the strange little girl. Then, suddenly, Nik realized the two of them weren’t alone. Another man had appeared in the room.
“Kak dela, malyshka?” the man said in a smooth voice. “How may I serve you today?” But his dark eyes never left Nik’s face.
“I think this one needs to talk to you,” Zima said.
“Really? He doesn’t appear to be dying at the moment.” Then the man cocked his head, and a small smirk appeared. “Though I suppose he is suffering somewhat.”
“He isn’t dying. It’s true,” Zima said soberly.
“Then why do you want to burden him, child?”
Zima blinked. “I don’t know. I just think he needs it. Or needs to talk to you, anyway.”
“Interesting,” the man said.
“Who are you?” Nik asked.
“I don’t answer questions you already know the answer to.”
