and pointed behind Billi.
The window was right behind her. With the desk lamp on, everything Billi wrote was perfectly reflected in the glass. She blushed.
“Oh, right.” What an idiot. “Look, Vasilisa. I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone what just happened. Okay?”
Vasilisa rocked back and forth, laughing until she started hiccuping. “I tricked you,” she crowed.
“Seriously, it wasn’t that funny,” Billi said. Vasilisa laughed harder. Billi smiled. Maybe it was.
Eventually Vasilisa calmed down. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at Kay’s belongings.
“What’s going to happen now?” she asked.
There was a creak as Billi leaned back into the worn leather of Arthur’s chair.
“We’ll take you somewhere safe. Then, when things have calmed down, probably send you home to your grandmother.”
Vasilisa nodded. “I would love to see her garden again.” She stood up and bent over the flowerpot, stroking the bright petals. “She loves chrysanthemums.”
Billi stared at the plant. Thick, luscious, green leaves covered what had been bare twigs minutes ago. Fluffy orange flowers bloomed, and even as Billi watched, buds rose along the twigs, growing into balls and unfurling into more blossoms. A soft, fresh scent began to fill the room.
Vasilisa plucked a flower and it blossomed open in her hands-she held it out to Billi. Her smile was open and she seemed unaware of what had just happened. Any chance of her living a normal life had just gone forever.
Vasilisa would be the next Templar Oracle.
8
MORDRED JUMPED UP FROM HIS CHAIR WHEN Billi rushed into the kitchen. He wiped ketchup from his mouth and looked guiltily at the half-eaten bacon sandwich. “Where’s Dad?” Billi held the flowerpot in one hand and Vasilisa’s wrist in the other.
“On patrol with Gwaine.”
“Get him now.”
A few minutes later Arthur and Gwaine entered. Arthur nodded at Billi as he unbuttoned his coat. “Tell me,” he said. Billi put the potted plant on the table. “Vasilisa did this.” Arthur touched the large green leaves and plucked a flower. He handed it to Gwaine.
“It was just a bunch of twigs ten minutes ago,” Billi added.
“Vasilisa, I want you to hold this.” Arthur grabbed a wilted African violet from the windowsill and put it on Vasilisa’s lap.
The leaves began to perk up. The stalks lengthened and the leaves swelled, then buds grew, blossoming into velvety lavender flowers.
The room was filled with a thick musty scent-far more powerful than the flowers could have generated. It was like someone had opened a door into a greenhouse. All the other potted plants were in full bloom too, scattering color over the kitchen.
It had taken a dozen seconds. Vasilisa lowered her hands and looked around at the knights.
“That’s amazing,” said Mordred as an ivy plant spread over the floor.
A flower hissed. It turned black and burst into flames.
Within seconds, half a dozen of the flowers had combusted, and Vasilisa screamed. Billi kicked the flowerpot off the girl’s lap, and it smashed on the floor. The soil bubbled and spat as smoke rose from the burning bush. Billi grabbed Vasilisa, and Mordred ran to the sink as the fire alarm went off. He soaked a hand towel.
The kitchen filled up with smoke as they put the flames out.
“What the hell happened?” Gwaine asked. The alarm shrieked in the background.
Arthur looked at the floor. The heat had melted the linoleum, which smelled poisonous. He stepped on a still- smoldering flower, grinding it to ash under his boot.
“Get Elaine,” he said.
Elaine didn’t waste any time racing over. The kitchen still stank of molten plastic and burned foliage, so they crowded into the study, next door to the now-sleeping Vasilisa. Gwaine waited by the window, nervously checking outside every few minutes. Billi was on the old sofa, and Arthur came down after returning Vasilisa to her bed.
Elaine rubbed her eyes as she settled into an armchair in the corner. In the gloomy lamplight, her sunken features looked just this side of zombie.
“I spoke to her before she went to sleep,” started Arthur. “Looks like elementalism runs in the family. Her granny used to do the same-make flowers grow and fruit appear out of season.” He frowned as he gazed at them. “Vasilisa never really considered it strange. It was just what her family did. It seems they were white witches. The grandmother apparently knew all the tales about Baba Yaga.”
Gwaine spoke. “You think the gran knew Baba Yaga was real?”
“Yes, but Vasilisa just assumed they were stories.” Elaine smiled to herself. “I’d like to meet this grandmother. She sounds interesting.”
“What about the other stuff? The fire?” asked Billi.
Elaine sighed. “Judging by tonight I’d say Vasilisa’s psychic powers include fire-starting, pyrokinetics. And elementalism. Not a great combination.”
“Explain.” Arthur took a cigarette from Elaine’s packet and lit up. This was the first he’d had in three months. Despite his coolness, tonight’s events must have shocked him too.
“Vasilisa’s in sympathy with the natural environment.”
“What’s that mean?
“What happens to her affects the natural world. She could eat an ice cream and then cover the garden with frost. Conversely, she could draw heat from a hot summer’s day and use it to cook sausages in her bare hands,” said Elaine, as though she were explaining something blindingly obvious. “It’s simple Newtonian physics. Every action has an opposite and equal reaction. In this case it’s psychic energy being transferred from Vasilisa into the living environment and back again. But she’s too inexperienced to control it. The flowers were a victim of that.”
“Great. She’ll be handy if we’re ever attacked by demonic daffodils,” said Gwaine.
Elaine ignored Gwaine’s not-quite-veiled insult. “I brought this.” She took out a necklace from her pocket. It was a thin strip of leather strung with silver plaques.
Billi recognized them. Kay had used them when he’d tried to contact the spirit realms. “Maqlu?”
The ancient talismans had been found in an archaeological dig in Iraq, on the site of the ancient city of Nineveh. They were a defense against psychic intrusion.
“Someone might try to possess Vasilisa?” Gwaine asked.
“Just to be sure. Vasilisa has no control over her powers. She can’t defend herself. It’s possible another psychic, someone with telepathy, could access her mind and manipulate her, albeit temporarily.” Elaine handed the necklace to Billi. “Put this on her when she wakes up. Tell her that she can’t take it off, understand?”
Billi inspected the plaques, with their minute cuneiform letters-spells carefully carved onto each. “You mean someone like Baba Yaga?”
Elaine nodded. “If she’s been consuming other psychics over the centuries, her telepathic powers would be awesome. She’d be an elementalist, spirit-talker, the whole package. It also means she’d be totally insane. That amount of action in one head cannot be healthy. I don’t want her in Vasilisa’s mind, even for a minute.”
“Then the next step is obvious,” said Arthur.
“Jerusalem it is,” agreed Elaine.
“Wait,” Billi interrupted. “What’s to stop the Polenitsy from just heading out to Jerusalem and kidnapping Vasilisa there?”
