Into the Ether - Complete

Spring, When New Things Grow: Part 16

Mr. Mazur and an additional five Guardians were waiting in a private lounge. As soon as Pavel, Kirk and I arrived, Pavel introduced me, and we stepped into a minibus to transport us to the chartered section of the airport. While Moroi might use commercial flights for overseas travel, within America or for short trips within Europe, they customarily flew in smaller private jets.

The aircraft was sumptuously appointed. Generous soft leather seats arranged in conversational groups, it was chalk and cheese compared to the commercial airline I'd been on earlier. I stood back waiting for Pavel to indicate where he'd like me to sit. Even on aircraft, Guardian groups tended to have a hierarchy, and I didn't want to inadvertently offend by seating myself somewhere inappropriate.

"Belikov? Please join Mr. Mazur and me," Pavel requested.

I sat in the seat he'd indicated, nodding respectfully to Mr. Mazur. An occasional visitor in Baia during my early teenage years, I knew him by sight, although he wouldn't recognize me.

"Thank you so much for your kindness," I acknowledged. "You've saved me four or five hours of waiting around plus two hours of driving." This flight was headed direct to the St. Vladimir's runway, so instead of getting there in twelve hours, I'd be arriving in three.

It was an unwritten rule in Moroi society that it was polite to offer a seat to any Guardian needing to travel. Not that it was entirely altruistic; any Guardian transported would obviously help in defense should an attack occur. Still – it was an uncommon stroke of good luck for me to run into another group from my world traveling to the same place at the same time.

"Not a problem," Mr. Mazur responded. "It was fortunate Pavel ran into you. We're headed there ourselves, and as you can see, we have plenty of room." The cabin was less than half full, but I still appreciated the gesture. "So what's your business at St. Vladimir's?" he inquired curiously.

"I was based there until December last year," I started, conscious of being a little circumspect in what I revealed. "I was reallocated on a mission which I've recently completed. All my stuff is at St. Vlad's, and a special girl is waiting for me there, too. I haven't seen her in months," I explained with a rueful grin.

A Guardian in a relationship was still a slightly shocking thing, although things were slowly changing. There were a few open Guardian/Guardian relationships, and plenty more that weren't so open. As long as Moroi still came first, people tended to turn a blind eye. Sure some purists saw it as shameful, but overall Moroi society was becoming a little more tolerant. Zmey didn't strike me as the type to be offended by that sort of thing, but I was glad when he accepted it without comment.

"So you're returning to St. Vladimir's hoping for reallocation there?" Pavel asked.

"I'm not sure. When I left, I wasn't expected to return." I didn't need to say more. That was universal Guardian speak for 'sent on a mission not thought to be survivable.' "I've only got the clothes I'm wearing, so I need to restock, report to Court and see what they have in mind for me."

"So you're Russian?" Mr. Mazur said, adroitly changing the subject.

"Yes. I'm from Baia outside Omsk."

"Quaint little village. Belikov, eh? You wouldn't be Yeva's grandson would you?"

I looked at him a little alarmed. Did this man know everyone?

"Yes, that's right."

"Lovely woman your grandmother," he said casually. "Bakes the best cookies I've ever eaten. She's well?"

"Was when I left her yesterday, although I'm sure she'd find something to complain about," I joked.

"So you've been in Russia on a deadly mission. Wouldn't know anything about a Strigoi army stronghold outside Novosibirsk burning to the ground, would you?" he asked, watching me carefully.