believe she’s spent the last hundred years healing.”
“So we need to stand Baba Yaga under the next meteorite strike? There’s going to be one in the next two days? And you know where?”
Elaine screwed the cigarette into extinction. “This is sympathetic magic, Billi. That meteor injured Baba Yaga once. A connection has been established between her and that meteor. Now, if I’m right, any piece of that rock, however small, will have the same effect on her as the whole meteor.”
Billi laughed. “It’s just like homeopathy. You dilute the medicinal mixture in more and more water, but the potency remains. That’s it, isn’t it?”
Elaine frowned. “That’s not the comparison I would have chosen, but yes, that’s it. The rock injured Russia; it will injure Baba Yaga.”
“Sowe needtogoto Tunguskaand findalumpof space rock? Fat chance of that, Elaine.” Billi shoved her bowl away. “Bloody hell, that’s worse than useless. We’ve two days, Elaine, just two.”
Elaine took a picture from her back pocket and unfolded it. “After the blast, locals explored the crater and picked out bits of the meteor. Made carvings with it and sold them to tourists and scientists who’d come to investigate. I’d hoped by staying in Moscow just for another day, I might have been able to get to some museum or antiquities shop and buy one. Or steal one.” She slid the picture, torn from a book, over to Billi. “That is how we could have defeated Baba Yaga. It was taken at a market in Tunguska.”
The photo was a grainy black-and-white that showed a couple of well-dressed men standing on either side of a simple wooden-framed bazaar stall. The table was half hidden in shade, but one of the men held out a small stone carving. A carving of a crude, big-hipped woman.
“Oh God. A Venus figurine,” Billi gasped. She held the photo in her quivering fingertips. Vasilisa’s great- grandmother had made one. She’d put it into the heart of the
“I had one, Elaine, in my hand.”
“What?”
Billi stared at her palm, remembering the small stone statue lying there, maybe hoping, by some magic, by her own desperate desire, that it would suddenly appear.
“Where is it now?” Elaine dug her fingers into Billi’s arm. “We’ve got to get it.”
Where was it? The last time she’d seen it was with Vasilisa, just before the Polenitsy attack.
“At home. It’s probably lying under Vasilisa’s bed.” Billi had literally let the means to defeating Baba Yaga slip through her fingers.
“We could call Rowland. Get him to search for it.”
“Even if he finds it right now, what good would that do? No way he’ll get it to us in time.” Billi slapped the table. “And send it where? The Knights Templar, care of Baba Yaga, the big cave, deep forest, Russia?”
Billi couldn’t duck it any longer. It had been the default plan from the very beginning, but she’d hoped there’d be some way out. “We’re not going to be able to save her, are we?” she said, but not to Elaine, to herself. “Poor Vasilisa.” There was only one way to stop Fimbulwinter. But the price was Vasilisa’s life.
Billi peered out the window, her body weary and her heart heavy. Somewhere out there was a frightened nine-year-old girl, held hostage by monsters and a cannibal witch, hoping that someone, that Billi, would keep her promise and rescue her.
Perhaps there were times when Templars had to break their promises.
Ivan entered, Lance’s backpack slung over one shoulder, and with some food supplies. “The plane is ready. We should leave now, before the others find us.” He then pulled out a brand-new mobile phone and gave it to Billi. “Full satellite function and GPS-useful where we are going. If Lance and Gwaine escaped, you could contact them with this.”
“What’s next, boss?” Elaine asked, looking to Billi.
Boss. What did she know? Billi felt like she was stumbling from one disaster to another. God, she wished her dad were here. She didn’t want this responsibility. But being a Templar-this was her life. And she had chosen it.
“We take the plane south and try to find Baba Yaga’s camp. Simple, really.”
Elaine put her cup down. “No time to lose, then.”
“You can’t come, Elaine,” said Billi. “I’m sorry, but we won’t be needing you here anymore. From now on it’ll just be fighting, and the Templars need you alive.”
My kind of work, not yours.
Billi addressed Ivan. “Elaine needs to get back to London. Can you sort that out?”
“I’ll make a few calls.”
Elaine started forward, wanting to say something. But she couldn’t: Billi was right.
Billi held out her hand. “
Elaine sprang forward and crushed Billi against her chest. She had a lot of power in those scrawny limbs. Billi squeezed the old woman back. When Elaine eventually let go, her eyes were red and watery.
“Good luck, girl.”
29
TEN MINUTES LATER AND IT WAS DONE. ELAINE would go straight to the airport and get on the next plane to London.
Billi went through Lance’s backpack while Ivan walked Elaine to a taxi.
She could smell the poultices for wolf bites as soon as she opened the zipper. They were tucked tidily into sandwich bags. There was also a box of silver bullets, 9mm caliber and perfect for their pistols.
Ivan returned and led Billi out on to the airfield. The deep night sky was littered with stars, not a cloud in the sky.
“You can sleep on the plane,” Ivan said.
Billi looked at him guiltily. Even though she hadn’t been thinking about it, she was exhausted. Ivan must have been feeling even worse than her; she hadn’t recently been used as a punching bag. The bruise on his cheek was coming up big and shiny, but it didn’t mar his good looks in any way. She glanced sideways as they walked across the airstrip. His hard jaw was fixed, his gray eyes focused on the job ahead.
Everything about Ivan radiated iron discipline. She’d seen how he’d entered the gunfight, unflinching as the bullets had whizzed around him. Then he turned and smiled, and the almost machinelike persona vanished. Another Ivan appeared. One warm and thoughtful toward others. The true noble. He took her hand.
“Here we are, Billi.”
They stopped by a small white propeller plane. It was about twenty feet long, its wingspan thirty. The cockpit looked like it had been built for hobbits.
“This is it?” said Billi. The two-seater seemed pretty fragile.
“They were out of MiG jet fighters. This will do the job.” He patted the fuselage. “I like to think of it as… cozy.”
The instrument panel was basic, just two small electronic screens and a couple of switches. Her mobile phone had more functions. Ivan unhooked the headphones and started the engine. The propellers turned slowly twice, then the engine sparked. Billi felt the aircraft wanting to surge forward. The displays came on and Ivan scrolled down a series of options on one of the screens. He tapped it.
“This is the EFIS: the Electronic Flight Information System. Most of the key data is on this nowadays. Altimeter, compass, the artificial horizon, stuff like that.” He pointed at the screen next to it. “That’s the GPS. Combined with the EFIS, the thing practically flies itself.”
“How long’s the trip?” Billi straightened out her coat as she settled into the cramped seat. The dark red cloth rippled with shades of deep pink and purple as she smoothed her hands over it.
I’m becoming as vain as Ivan. She found the seat belt and clipped herself in over the shoulders and across the waist.
“Depending on the tailwind, three to four hours.”
The plane started to accelerate down the runway. It lurched upward, and Billi’s stomach lurched downward.
