Part 48 (2/2)

Time seemed to speed up after I returned home. All too soon, the day pa.s.sed me by, and the sky began to darken.

Night fell with alarming swiftness.

After dinner, I sat up in my dark bedroom, looking out the window, watching the stars come out. I no longer feared the appearance of Timofei Mstislav-I knew he was under control.

Or he would be until he spotted me tonight.

My heart sank when I heard GM start bustling around in her room-I knew she was getting ready for the Firebird Festival.

She was excited about the festival.

I was dreading it.

The plan I was to follow tonight was what I wanted-what I had chosen for myself. But now that the time to go to the festival was nearly upon me, my stomach had begun to twist itself into violent knots. I knew that there was every chance that our side would lose tonight-that the hybrids would overwhelm us, and I would be lost to the Werdulac.

And then the hybrids would still attack the festival.

And even before all of that, I would have to deal with Anton.

I didn't trust him-at all-and it occurred to me that he might just kidnap me himself and turn me over to the hybrids. That way he could collect that precious reward of memories that he had told me about.

Fear flooded through me at the thought-the possibility of being betrayed by Anton tonight was a very real danger.

But I had to try. I had to do what I could-even if it meant the end for me.

Reluctantly, I turned on the light and began to get ready for the festival myself. Mindful of Innokenti's advice, I took off the charm that William had given me.

I felt strangely alone without it.

As I walked down the stairs, GM looked up at me expectantly.

”Katie, you will see something truly marvelous tonight. No one can celebrate the way we Russians can. There will be music and dancing and-”

GM stopped and looked at me searchingly.

”What is it, Solnyshko? What is wrong?”

I smiled and tried to appear as if I were really excited about the night ahead of us.

”Nothing's wrong, GM. I can't wait to go to the festival tonight.”

”Yes, yes, something is wrong,” GM said. ”I can tell.”

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, she put a hand to my forehead.

”Are you ill?” GM asked anxiously. ”You were terribly ill the last time we were here. I hope this is not a reoccurrence of that sickness.”

I thought back to the fever I'd had after Odette had poisoned me, and an involuntary shudder ran through me.

GM was watching me closely. ”I knew it,” she said. ”You are ill. We will stay home.”

”No, I'm not ill,” I said quickly. I fought down the panic that was rising within me. I couldn't let GM keep me home. I had to go tonight. ”I'm fine, really. I want to go to the Firebird Festival.”

I pasted a smile on my face.

”You are sure about this?” GM asked, looking me over critically.

”Yes, I am. GM, please. I really want to go.”

”All right,” GM said after a moment. ”We will go. But if you begin to look really bad, I will insist that we go home.”

I tried to make my tone rea.s.suring. ”Okay, GM. That sounds reasonable enough.”

I couldn't help smiling a little for real then. ”You always think I'm ill. Or that I'm about to be.”

GM touched a strand of my hair. ”I worry about you, Solnyshko.”

”Everything will be fine,” I said.

I really hoped that was true.

As we went out to the car, I glanced at my watch. It was just about ten o'clock.

I had one more hour to go.

The drive did not take long, and GM and I soon reached the main square in front of the Mstislav mansion. She slotted the car into a s.p.a.ce in amongst a big jumble of cars.

GM slipped her arm through mine, and she smiled at me. I could see how excited she was. I suddenly wished that the evening could be exactly what she believed it to be-a clear winter's night with a simple, safe, small-town celebration. Little did she, or any of Krov's residents, know what waited in the dark to attack them and shatter their peaceful world.

The square was full of people eating, drinking, laughing, talking. There were live musicians, and somebody seemed to have brought a radio-two styles, one traditional, the other modern, clashed in the winter air, fighting pleasantly for the attention of the crowd.

The air was full of the aroma of food, and both electric lights and open flames illuminated the square, which was hung with hundreds of paper lanterns representing the Firebird.

”Later tonight there will be performances ill.u.s.trating the folktales that are told of the Firebird,” GM said. ”Dances, plays, things like that.”

A fair-haired man, his pale cheeks tinged red by the cold, handed both GM and me plastic cups filled with a dark liquid. He winked at us and disappeared into the crowd.

From the scent of the liquid, I guessed it was spiced wine. I looked around for a place to set it down. As I did so, I realized that I also had to find a way to get away from GM. At the moment, I would not be able to slip away without being noticed.

”I know what is in your mind,” GM said.

I felt a flash of panic. ”You do?”

”Yes, of course. You are worried about the wine. A sip or two will probably not hurt you. But make sure it is only a little.”

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