68°19'0.82 "N 59°40'52.1'' E – Khaypudyr Bay, Nenetsia

  27.05.2024 – 22.30 UTC +03.00

  “I am not going to let you out of my sight,” I said.

  “Okay. But follow my lead. And hide the axe,” Valeriya said. Her clothes had been inexplicably cleaned and patched together; they did not betray any of the hardships of the last few days. Still, she had suggested going to buy some fur coats to blend in with the city, something less conspicuous than my leather jacket.

  I tucked the axe between my shoulder blades, forcing me to stand upright under its weight. I made sure the coat was a big enough size to hide it underneath.

  “It will still be within reach to execute you, don’t forget,” I said.

  “Okay, ??galej.”

  I followed her in the city. She did not seem to know exactly where she was going, but I would see her often examine the walls of buildings. Was it to examine the moss, or to look for some signs? I had no idea. I was more focused on the people around us: the men and women of the Bay were a tough lot, used to beating up thieves and bandits that came either by boat or blimp and caused issues in their city.

  We looked exactly like thieves and bandits, and while Valeriya looked for invisible tracks, I was more worried about looking big and dangerous enough for the locals not to try their luck with us.

  As we walked, the sun quickly lowered to the North, just beyond the horizon. I could not see it while walking through the alleys and streets of the Bay, but the Arctic twilight of a circumpolar sun was characteristic. I gazed at the purple sky: this was as dark as it would get tonight, and in an hour or so the sun would start its upward journey to the East again.

  “Finally,” Valeriya said.

  “What?”

  “A reka marking,” she pointed at a wall. All I could see was dirt. “Now we just need to find the one who carved it.”

  “Sure,” I said, as I watched a little bit of hope make Valeriya’s eyes glint. I did not know the markings she spoke of, but I suspected it had to do with her coven. River witches that lurked throughout Nenetsia. Almost driven extinct by hunters like us.

  I was sure a few of them might be alive in the Bay, but I would not bet on it. I followed her as she scurried away through the alleys, following a thread she could only see.

  A couple of men stared at us as we passed through the next street. Valeriya paid them no mind, but I stared at them back until they looked away and turned to their bottles full of vodka.

  “Val, take it slower,” I said as I caught up with her.

  “No time to waste.”

  “No, listen,” I said and held her by the shoulder. She jumped back, startled, and then she squinted at me with her grey eyes. I lowered my voice: “You are drawing too much attention. Take it easy, look more natural.”

  She looked at me and then looked around, as if she had just then realized that these streets were busy with people drinking, talking, and smoking outside pubs. And most of them looked straight at us.

  “It does not matter, we are close anyway,” she said. She continued walking at a slower pace, her confidence a little bit more restrained.

  I walked by her side, and she inched closer to my right arm. From my height, she looked almost adorable at how vulnerable she was while looking for signs. Her attention was constantly diverted, her grey eyes scanning for details unseen by the untrained, her skin still not flustered by the walk nor the cold. She paid no mind to me.

  She was easy to kill, but too beautiful to.

  “Here,” she finally said, and turned to me, “Follow my lead and don’t say a thing.”

  I looked at the door she was heading to: it was just another building made of cement and wood, grey and red like the rest of them. It was a few stories tall, a residential building. A few lights were on on the second and fourth floors. I looked back at the sky: dusk still, for maybe another half an hour or so.

  As Valeriya reached the wooden door, I always stayed one step behind her. She whispered something, and the condensation on the door illuminated for a moment, forming Anbur letters, like they had appeared on the mist when I had faced her last. This time, I had no chance to read them; they dissipated immediately, and Valeriya opened the door.

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  I followed behind her, and my nostrils were attacked by a combination of an earthy, moldy scent and another one, more herbal, like a minty aroma. I closed the door behind me, leaving some electrical lamps on the walls as the only sources of light. Wooden stairs built on top of cement, climbing upwards. Valeriya was already on the first step, going up.

  I rushed behind her.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked her.

  “The reka marks led here. Another of my Coven is here.” Her words spoke of reassurance, but her eyes darted from left to right, alert, looking for a threat. The closest I had ever been to a Coven was the Pyrisbyd?mos, and I would never have called them such.

  “And can you trust them?”

  Valeriya ignored me. Every floor we reached had two apartments, all locked behind heavy wooden doors. On the second floor, she hesitated and then approached the one on our left. She opened it; it needed no key.

  “Yes, come in.” It was a young woman’s voice, even younger than Valeriya's, welcoming us even though we had already stepped inside. The house looked tidy, modern, and well-maintained, contrasting heavily with the rest of the building. Colorful chairs and pillows, paintings of shapes and colors that seemed meaningless to me, and expensive tropical plants with growth lamps were carefully placed in the entrance, and from what I could see, the living room as well.

  Before I could process all that, a young twenty-year-old woman entered the room holding a cup of what smelled like coffee and mint. She had something otherworldly in her appearance, much like Valeriya: another Vodyanitsa. Her fingers were a bit longer, her face had sharp corners, and her grey, wide eyes were identical to Valeriya’s. Her hair was different: dark and tied into a knot. She wore a long robe.

  She avoided looking at me.

  “Thank you, Aleksandra, for having me in your refuge. I am Valeriya.”

  “Having you, sister, is one matter to thank me, but what is this?” Aleksandra asked and nodded to me, but still averting her gaze, as if I were a stray animal brought into a fine household.

  “Harmless,” Valeriya said, and I instinctively scoffed, “Well, he can also be threatening. But you have nothing to fear.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Aleksandra looked at me and then turned away. “I see.”

  I shuffled a bit uncomfortably next to Valeriya and slightly coughed.

  “His name is ??galej,” she added.

  “Sure,” Aleksandra said, losing her interest in me entirely. She walked to the living room, gesturing to follow. “And what brings you here so late?”

  “I was caught up on the way North, to Nosovaya,” Valeriya said, “Following the command to gather. But I was hunted. So, I have lost the tracks, and I hoped I could find them again here.”

  “You will be surprised by how many of the Daughters have passed by. Ippolit did a bad job on setting up signs, but a good job at giving them to the right people,” Aleksandra said. She blew on the coffee before taking a sip.

  “Are you one of the right people, Aleksandra?”

  I looked at both of them, silently. They had sat across the table, and I was standing next to Valeriya, ready to act if I had to. I sensed an awkward hostility between them, but maybe I misunderstood some cues in their communication. The way Aleksandra stressed the word right people hinted at an innuendo, that much I could tell.

  “Call me Shura, dear sister, no need for formalities. And yes, as you can see, I have been well taken care of by Ippolit himself but also by the gifts of all the seeking Daughters here,” the young woman said.

  Valeriya got tense, and as I saw her like that, I got tense as well. It was an instinctive, almost primal reaction. If Valeriya was worried, I should be too.

  “Then, Shura, tell me, what gift do you need?”

  Aleksandra squinted her eyes lightly and smiled.

  “The brute would do. He seems to have a nice, hard body. He would take a while before he broke.”

  It took me a moment too long to realize she was bargaining for me.

  “That I cannot do, sister. He is already in love with me. You know how it breaks them when we do this,” Valeriya responded.

  She was not lying; I was in love with her. But mostly, because I had to execute her, and because she had enchanted me so. It was confusing, but there was no chance I would agree to obey that woman, Aleksandra. So, I felt relieved with her response.

  “Hm, okay then. Something of his, to remember him by, then? Something precious to him.”

  Valeriya thought about it for a moment.

  “He has an axe he loves. He has killed many with that. You can have all your fun with that. Show her, ??galej.”

  I reached for Lopt??, tucked behind my back. I revealed it, and Aleksandra’s eyes shone with greed. Valeriya looked at me with expectation.

  I did not know if she knew what she was asking of me: Lopt?? was not just an axe. It was part of me, a familiar, a weapon that I have bled with for years on end. Without him, I would be nothing but a tall Komi man. All my hunts started and ended with his blade. I held tight to its handle as I extended my arms towards Aleksandra.

  “Yes, this will do, sister,” she said. She looked at me, her grey eyes mesmerizing as Valeriya’s. “May I touch it, ??galej?”

  “Not yet, Shura,” Valeriya said, “first you tell me where the Coven will meet, then he executes his part of the promise.”

  I felt my arm hair rise with Valeriya’s words. They could not have been accidental.

  “Sure. His Daughters are taking the boats to Belush'ya Guba, to the Isle of Yuzhnyy. Ippolit is calling for a Coven of All.” Words poured out of her mouth as her long fingers inched closer to Lopt??.

  “And you are telling the truth, sister?” Valeriya asked.

  “Honor among Daughters, of course,” Aleksandra turned to her, almost offended by the question.

  “Of course. Honor among Daughters. ??galej, execute.”