row of ambulances treating the injured, past the hordes of sightseers and media. Huge spotlights had been erected around the station entrance. News vans lined the road, and dozens of flashlights bobbed around her as the rescue services tended the wounded and frightened passengers. The news was garbled, but Billi heard one newscaster reporting that a pack of large dogs-Rottweilers or pit bulls-had gone mad when a power failure had plunged the line into complete darkness. Several people had been savaged, but the dogs had escaped down the tunnels.
Arthur waved for a taxi.
“I lost her, Dad.” Billi struggled to keep up, her bones groaning with pain. If she moved too fast, she thought she might crack into a million pieces. But the ache wasn’t just because of the beating. She’d failed Vasilisa. But it wasn’t just a single girl’s life she’d jeopordized-it was the entire planet’s.
“It’s not over yet.”
Billi stopped. “You know something?”
Arthur opened the taxi door. “Bors was mauled and there are three dead bodies at the Temple. The police are goingto have a field day. That’s all I know.” He sighed. It had been a long night for them both, and there was still a lot to do. “But Elaine’s okay and she has a plan.”
“To find Vasilisa?” Billi gazed at the bedlam outside the tube station. The flashing lights, the crowds, and the ambulances. “And the Polenitsy.”
“By God, yes.” Arthur put his hand on her shoulder and smiled grimly. “And we will make them pay.”
15
A FEW HOURS LATER BILLI WAS BACK IN THE TEMPLE Church. She peered around at the other knights as they sat patiently in the council of war. She struggled to keep upright. She’d got back and found that Middle Temple Lane had been cordoned off by the police, who were going house to house, trying to understand how three dead women, one headless, had ended up in an area occupied mainly by lawyers.
Lance leaned over. “How are you, Bilqis?”
Her head felt like someone was rolling cannonballs in it. Her bones ached, and the thwack she’d been given by the werewolf made breathing hard work. She tried to smile, to be stoic and tough, but her grin turned into a grimace.
“You look awful,” said Gwaine as he crossed the circle of chairs and took his own.
Arthur hadn’t arrived, but the others waited in the gloomy candlelight of the round. They’d all got a battering that night. The closed chamber stank of Elaine’s poultice concoction, the sour odor of old vegetables. Each knight had claw and bite wounds, so Elaine had spent half the night patching them up. She’d checked Billi’s prior injuries and pronounced her fully recovered. It was a relief to get those stinking bandages off her back at last.
The west door opened, and a flurry of snow blossomed in, followed by Arthur, Elaine, and Father Rowland. Rowland shut the door and took his seat in a pew, turning so he could see the circle of knights. Elaine usually sat with him, but this time she followed Arthur into the circle. The normally cool and sarcastic old woman seemed anxious, and for the first time didn’t have a cigarette twitching in her fingers. She looked around the high-backed chairs. She picked an empty one next to Billi and sat down.
Gwaine’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“That’s Bors’s seat,” he said, his voice weak and cracked.
“Not while he’s in hospital.” Arthur took his own seat. “This needs all of us.”
“But, Arthur, she’s…Jewish,” said Gwaine, still staring in disbelief at the woman in his nephew’s seat.
“Right now I really couldn’t givea shit,” replied Arthur. He slowly looked each of them in the eye. “It’s been a bad night. Bors was badly wounded, but, God be praised, he’s going to live.”
“And the others?” Billi asked. The werewolves had attacked dozens of people on the train, infecting them all with lycanthropy.
Rowland cleared his throat. “Elaine and I have been to Crow Street Hospital, where the injured were taken. We’ve been able to use our contacts there to make sure they’re being treated with Elaine’s poultices. They’ll recover.”
“But we’ve no time to rest up and lick our wounds,” said Arthur. “The Polenitsy have the girl.”
Elaine butted in. “We’ve got to get her back. Soon.”
Billi felt flushed and red, like they were all looking at her. She’d lost Vasilisa.
“The last time Vasilisa was with us she spoke of Fimbulwinter, something she believed Baba Yaga would bring about.” Arthur twisted his wedding ring, constantly winding it around his finger. “Once Baba Yaga performs the Ritual of Devouring, she will be powerful enough to create a global winter that could last for many years.”
“The ritual can only be carried out on the night of the full moon. Saturday,” said Elaine.
“Bloody hell,” said Billi. It was early Wednesday already. “That’s four days from now. How on earth are we going to find her in four days? We’ve no idea where she is.”
“Oh, Vasilisa’s in Russia,” replied Elaine. “The Polenitsy will take her straight to Baba Yaga, and the old witch is
“Great. That’s going to make it so much easier.” Russia was gigantic. Billi could see that everyone was thinking the same. It would be like searching for a snowflake in the Arctic.
Gwaine snorted scornfully. “And how exactly are we going to find her?” He spread out his arms. “Look at us. We’ve just had our arses whipped by a bunch of hairy freaks, and that’s with the home advantage. We go into their territory and we’re just so much dog food. It’ll be suicide.”
“This time we’ll have help,” said Arthur. “We’ll go to the Bogatyrs. Romanov is a good man; once he knows what’s at stake he’ll want to help. Then there’s Vasilisa’s grandmother, a white witch by all accounts. She could have valuable information for us. Plus, there are many wolf packs in the area; the Polenitsy may have come from one.” He stood up and walked slowly around the circle of chairs. “Two teams, one to Vasilisa’s birthplace in Karelia, the other to Moscow, where we’ll meet the Bogatyrs. We’ll stop Baba Yaga.”
“By any means necessary, right?” asked Gwaine. Billi’s eyes narrowed.
“We’ll rescue Vasilisa if we can.” Arthur looked slowly around, but stopped at Billi. “But that may not be possible.”
Achill crept up Billi’s heart.
“Then?” she asked. She knew the answer, but needed someone to say it out loud.
“If we can’t save her, we’ll have to kill her,” replied her father in his plain, matter-of-fact tone. “Baba Yaga must not carry out the ritual. That’s all that matters.”
“There has to be another way,” said Billi, sickened. “We can’t just kill her.”
Arthur frowned. “I’m not happy about this either, Billi. But what’s the life of one against the entire population of the planet? With Vasilisa in Baba Yaga’s hands, that’s the choice we face.”
“But can’t we-”
“Enough,” Arthur snapped. “You will do as you are ordered, squire.”
Billi glared at him, but Arthur’s cold blue eyes were empty. He’d made his decision.
“I will go to Moscow. I have friends there,” said Lance.
“Agreed,” said Arthur. “Gwaine will lead the Moscow team and contact the Bogatyrs. I will lead the Karelia team.”
“Who goes with you?” asked Billi.
Arthur frowned. “I take Gareth and Mordred.”
No.
Arthur pointed at Billi. “You go with Elaine, Lance…and Gwaine.”
“I’m not going with Gwaine,” said Billi the moment she and Arthur left the Temple Church. They couldn’t go home-the place was crawling with police-so they crossed the courtyard to Chaplain’s House.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Oh, nothing. Except he’s a narrow-minded, bigoted, religious fundamentalist.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Oh, he was trying to be funny. That’s just what she needed. A funny parent.
