Night Witch

Chapter 15

The time ticked away slow as honey. Karina's sobs faded into sniffles and tearstains. Vasilisa and Archie continued their conversation.

"Vassie, I need to go out and hunt tonight." Archibald Hedge stood tall and proud. "The season's coming in stronger."

"Of course." Karina wondered at how her mother could sound so cheerful yet so dismal at once. The woman brushed a lock of reddish hair behind her ear--the color was less vivid than Karina had remembered it--and placed her hands on her hips. "I have to help out with a birth tonight since little Gertrude's coming rather late and Olga wants the child to come before it starts getting too hot outside, so she can breathe. Should I leave Karina with the Pinkertons or bring her along? I figured I should ask."

"The Pinkertons?" Archibald looked uneasy. Karina grimaced at his stricken expression; what would he say if he knew his daughter was travelling alone with a Pinkerton? Would he be disgusted by his daughter's lack of morals in being alone with a man at her age--especially one of that family? Especially if it was Hans?

Even if she didn't truly have a choice?

"Vasilisa, do you trust Russel?" Kaina glanced back at her mother, who looked like a grass swaying in the wind. Her face held a picture of inner torment--brown eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, hands gripping the countertop till her knuckles turned white, swaying from side to side. "Especially after what he did to Mara?"

Who?

Vasilisa shook her head and opened her eyes. "Why should we blame his children for a mistake they didn't commit, for blood they didn't choose? No. Let Karina go to the Pinkertons if she wants to."

"They're best friends," her father muttered. "What if--"

"When they're older?" Vasilisa laughed, her tone lighthearted. Karina glared at her mother. Hans was a bastard, although Vasilisa couldn't have known it when the fellow was so young. "Possibly. But let them be friends for now, Archie." She walked over to him and pecked him on the lips. "Love is a fickle friend when you're that young. I wouldn't wager anything on it."

"Vassie..."

"What is it?" Vasilisa stroked his cheek. Archibald looked sad and mournful. At last, he sighed and sat down on a blanket-robed chair.

"What he did to Mara--what he did to us--I can't trust it. And children learn from their parents. So..."

Karina wanted to scream at the vagueness of the situation. Who was Mara? And what by her bloody Ancestors had Russel Pinkerton done to her?

"We have to believe in him," Vasilisa said, slipping her hand into his and kneeling beside the chair. "Because people can change."

"What do you think would happen if we didn't listen to Russel?" He was a coiled spring of anger, his muscles rigid and packed with fierce energy. "What would happen if we just--ran away? Left Moracia and never came back?"

Vasilisa laughed bitterly. Oh, how Karina loathed that laugh! It was filled with contempt and wretched sadness. "What would that get us? We'd have nothing, nothing at all."

"We'd have each other." He squeezed his wife's hand. "Wouldn't that be enough?"

Vasilisa's words tripped over her tongue. "I--I--Walls have ears, Archie." She stood up, started walking back towards the counter. "How late do you expect you'll be out?"

Archibald looked up at her, his dark eyes a mixture of sadness and anger. "Late enough," he said shortly, and then he grabbed his arrows and bow and walked away, slamming the door behind him.

Vasilisa sighed and rubbed her forehead, once again picking up her knife to cut the herbs. Karina wondered at how her mother could make every movement so precise and direct yet so delicate. Even the way she wiped sweat from her forehead and dumped herbs into the large pot over the fire was graceful. Karina found herself trying to mimic her mothers movements, walking behind her in an attempt to match the way she walked and swayed. She felt almost like a little girl again.