Prologue
The classroom was quiet and empty. Peaceful. Dust motes drifted in the late morning light pouring through the tall, steepled windows. Anfisa had just finished dusting the bone meal from her crucible when she heard a knock on her classroom door.
“What is it?” she called out.
“Professor Kaminski?”
“Yes? What?”
“There’s someone here to see you, Professor.”
“My open office hours are in the afternoon. Tell them to come back later.”
“He says he’s, uh-” There was an awkward flurry of unintelligible speech behind the door. A second voice cut in impatiently:
“Anfisa! Anfisa it’s me!”
The professor smiled, recognizing the voice instantly, but she let her guest suffer in silence for a moment.
Anfisa carefully poured the bone meal she’d ground into a ceramic flask. No need to rush. She didn’t want to make a mess, after all.
On the other side of the door, boots shuffled and confused whispers echoed.
“Come in, Vadik,” Anfisa finally shouted. The locked door rattled as her visitor attempted to open it.
“Oh, I must have locked it,” Anfisa drawled. She took her time pressing a cork into the flask of bone meal before finally making her way around the labyrinth of tables.
“Dammit, Anfisa! Open up!” Vadik barked. “Don’t make me wait out here like a damned student. I came all the way to Sutzgrad to tell you about this!”
“I already debunked those tonics that were going around last month.” Anfisa rested her hand on the lock. “A student brought me a sample and I’m fairly sure it was just a mix of gilded bear bile and honey-mead.”
“No no no, not that!” Vadik pounded on the door. “That’s old news.”
“Is it about that claw the oblystor’s nephew bought? That merchant didn’t get it from me, I promise.”
“No Anfisa, this is new news! Please let me in?”
The professor sighed heavily. Letting Vadik into her classroom would mean the rest of her day was spoken for. Was what she was working on important enough to send him away?
Perhaps, but… she couldn’t say no to him.
Anfisa unlocked the door and let the man in. He barreled over the threshold like a child coming in out of the rain, and Anfisa smirked as Vadik brushed off his traveling clothes and rearranged himself. He always tried so hard to look like a grown-up. You’d think for a tall man in his forties with a full beard, it wouldn’t be hard, but maybe Anfisa just knew him well enough to see through the cracks.
“Thank you!“ Vadik growled, strutting between the tables and glancing around the empty room. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the student who’d led him there. “Close the door, Professor.”
“Yes sir,” Anfisa snarked.
The moment the door was shut, Vadik exploded. “Professor, you’re not going to believe this! It-it’s… well, I’m not even sure I believe it myself, yet. For the moment all I have are rumors, but… Anfisa! Such rumors they are!”
Anfisa lowered herself into a chair, preparing her body and soul for the onslaught. “Go on.”
“It happened in Brightice.” Vadik held his hands in front of him like a stage performer, and Anfisa almost burst out laughing.
“Vadik, nothing happens in Brightice. There are, what? Three villages?”
“Yes! One small, two moderately sized. Does Motylek sound familiar?”
“Absolutely not,” Anfisa laughed, “and if it did I’d be ashamed of myself.”
Not acknowledging Anfisa’s disparaging tone, Vadik soldiered on, “There was an incident there several years ago. A blacksmith and some fur traders were killed. I could find it in my notes for you, if you want.”
“No, that’s fine.” Anfisa leaned on a table and rested her chin in one hand. “Was there another attack there recently or something?”
“Yes!” Vadik looked positively gleeful, which was rather inappropriate given the subject matter, but not all that uncharacteristic.
“I assume since you came all the way here to tell me about this, that there was something notable about this attack, and you’re not just suddenly taking a keen interest in every person who gets killed by a Medved’ Beis in Backwoods, Nowhere-land.”
“That’s the thing,” Vadik beamed. “She survived.”
Anfisa raised her head, but her hand hovered in the air where her chin had been resting. “Who survived? Survived what?”
“A young woman! Eighteen years old.” Vadik braced himself on the table between them. “And get this: She’s the daughter of the blacksmith that was killed there before.”
“You’re telling me,” Anfisa gaped at him, “this girl is the sole survivor of an attack?”
“What? No!” Vadik shook his head. “No no no. Goodness, let me back up. Several months ago in Motylek, there was a direct attack. Two male Beis destroyed one house and several other structures, injured six people and made off with a seventh. News of that attack reached me about a month later, but it didn’t seem particularly notable so it hadn’t been looked into yet.”
“Brightice borders Loskir,” Anfisa frowned. “I would think you’d be interested.”
“I’m a busy man, Professor. The interesting part happened about twenty days after that attack. See, that seventh victim, the one that was taken, she came back.”
Anfisa didn’t understand why her head was spinning until she realized she was suddenly standing. Vadik grinned at her, then started to pace.
“And before you ask, no, it’s not a mistake. It wasn’t misreported as a taking. She was gone,“ Vadik explained, gesturing with his hands as he walked aimlessly around the desks. “For almost twenty days. And she wasn’t just lost in the woods, trying to get back, either. Now I’ve only heard this second-hand, at this point, but-”
“You haven’t spoken to the girl?” said Anfisa, incredulous.
Vadik clenched his hands into fists. “Motylek is… insular. They don’t like inquiries. I have to be diplomatic.”
Anfisa nodded stiffly. “Tell me what you’ve heard, then. Second-hand will have to do.”
“Well, it’s…” Vadik paused, then fished out a notebook. “Hold on, let me read you this. It seems like the girl just repeats the same thing to anyone that asks her about it. I kept hearing the same words and sentences from different people. Eventually I pieced together a summary.”
“And?”
Vadik read straight from his notebook: “‘The Medved’ Beis took her far into the wilderness, and asked her to make their son an amulet for his coming-of-age. When she finished it, they brought her back.’” Vadik clapped the notebook shut. “What do you make of that, Professor?”
Anfisa swallowed hard and shook her head, her eyes wandering to the well-worn woodgrain of the desk nearest her. “That’s… that’s not how that works.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!“ Vadik said. “It doesn’t sound right at all! I’ve never seen evidence of Medved’ Beis having any sort of ceremonies or rites or amulets like that. And no one’s ever come back from being taken before. There’s something about this girl, Anfisa…”
The professor stared at nothing, deep in thought. Vadik’s rambling echoed in the empty classroom.
“I suspect after her father was killed, she researched magic that would bewitch chimerics or something. You know all about that sort of thing, right professor? Her mother was rumored to be some kind of haksa, it’s the only explanation that makes sense for me.”
Anfisa took a breath, steadying herself. There was a lot to unravel here, and Vadik’s nonsensical theories weren’t helping. She needed to check her notes, contact her sources. She needed to speak to the girl.
“Imagine what we could learn from her,” Vadik was saying. “Ways to stop them, ways to entrap them! With her knowledge-”
“What’s her name?” Anfisa interrupted.
“Oh, uh… Kaelin Belka.”
“And she was returned unharmed?”
“Well, not exactly unharmed, no. She had broken ribs and a gash on her leg, along with some minor scrapes and bruises.”
“How did she get those injuries?”
Vadik shrugged. “That I haven’t been able to figure out definitively. Too many inconsistent explanations. Seems like she doesn’t like to talk about it. They may not have even been related to her capture.”
“Is there anything else you do know?”
“Well, I…” Vadik pulled on his beard. “I haven’t been able to do a full inquiry, yet. As soon as I had any information I left Brightice and came here as fast as I could. I wanted to tell you before your classes start up.”
Anfisa froze, watching Vadik’s face. “You’re hoping I’ll cancel my winter classes and come back with you for the inquiry.”
“Something like that.” Vadik smirked sadly, looking like he already knew her answer.
Anfisa sat back down, slumping over and holding her head in her hands. Suddenly this was all very heavy. “I’m sorry, Vadik. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Twenty days. Anfisa thought to herself. Twenty days in the company of Kanai, and all she has to show for it are some broken ribs and a scratched leg? Anfisa wondered if this Kaelin Belka knew how lucky she was. “You know I don’t do field research anymore. Besides, it’s too close to the start of the semester to cancel my classes.”
“Couldn’t one of the other professors cover them? They’re perfectly knowledgeable, right?”
Anfisa rubbed her temples. “Here’s what I can agree to, Vadik: If you can find this Kaelin Belka, and I can find someone to cover my classes, I’ll come to wherever you are and I’ll help you talk to her.”
“I’ll bring her to you, if I can,” Vadik said.
Anfisa looked up at him, doubtful. “What makes you think she’ll agree to that?”
“I’ll think of something,” Vadik huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ll have her arrested if I have to.
Comentários