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Now

"Wakey, wakey. Oh, finally, Vlad. It'd be such a pity if I had to kill you without introducing myself first."

My head is pounding as though hit with a hammer, and as I open my eyes, everything swims in my vision. I don't recognize the chapel, but it looks abandoned. A stone skeleton of a church. The icons on the walls are chipped and tarnished, the pews broken, their wooden splinters lying across the damp floor dig into my palms as I struggle to sit upright. It's dark and smells of mold, and I feel like waking in a dream for a moment as it seems the voice talking to me is in my head.

"Or should I say Mir?"

Turning toward the question, I realize the voice is not in my head. A girl sits at the bottom of a winding stair in the corner. Moonlight pouring through a narrow window spills over her yellow dress and her hair, copper-red just like Yara's once was. My heart stutters. I am dreaming. How Yara's old body--?

She meets my bewildered stare, and a smile curls her lips. "Or Vladimir? How many names do you have?" No, not Yara. Yara has never looked at me with such unchecked hatred.

"Not enough to hide from you, clearly." I touch my throbbing temple, sticky with blood. "Hello, Tatya."

Tatya's smile transforms into a proud grin. "True." She gives a dismissive gesture, definitely enjoying that hatred of hers. "Don't worry about the blood, you'll live. For now. You jumped from there, remember?" She points at the balustrade halfway upstairs. "Let's go, I'll give you a tour."

Before I decide whether I want to agree or refuse, I find myself scrambling to my feet. It's rather an impulse I obey without thinking, out of uncertainty, because it seems better than doing nothing.

But I don't want to obey this impulse.

"I said let's go," she repeats, irritated, when I stop.

With another jolt of uncertainty, my legs start moving again. She controls me. She said I jumped...why would I? Then icy realization slithers down my spine. Magic. But how? Nilam always said every spell required a sacrifice: the stronger the magic, the bigger the price. What kind of morbid price the magic that turns people into slaves can require? "I thought you were dead, Tatya."

"And I thought you were a human," she replies matter-of-factly, ascending the narrow stone staircase. What's that supposed to mean?

As I pass the window, I glimpse the river outside, its waters pale and peaceful. It will end where it all began, Laverna's words suddenly emerge from my memory. She said it to me last night, when bumped into her in the apartment, barging out of the room after seeing Yara and Nilam kiss. I didn't listen to Lav then, didn't think of the meaning behind her voice. But I surely heard and remembered.

That's why I'm here. This is where it all began. The riverbank in Blakfait, where I helped Yara gain her powers. And this is the chapel outside which Yara kissed me for the first time. Where she kissed Vlad.

"The view is lovely, isn't it?" Tatya continues. "A bit creepy inside, though. I used to joke and tell my sister this would be a perfect place for a murder. Not a joke anymore, I guess." Pausing, she peers into the blackness outside. "That's the remains of your grandfather's house over there, huh?"

I swallow hard, struggling not to follow her gaze. Last week, I summoned the courage to visit Yara's house, where her mother died, but not my grandpa's house. Not the place where she died. "I didn't kill your sister."

Tatya giggles, and there's something eerie in that lighthearted sound. Unhealthy. "Of course not. You don't have the guts to do what I've done."

Silence falls between us. For a beat, my mind goes blank, because what Tatya implies is... impossible. Bogdan killed Yara, didn't he? My tongue runs over the roughness of the scar on my lower lips, recalling the past. When he appeared in front of me, a demonic shadow out of nowhere, shouting gibberish about a fire, he was undoubtedly insane. Magic drove him insane! Why else would he try to kill me?

Or...Oh God. Alarm coils in my stomach. The day I came looking for my dog, didn't Ruslan say our father had been talking on the phone about some fire? It must have been the fire at Yara's house. Father grew up in Blakfait, too, he must have known Yara's parents once, that's why he was angry that day--he was always angry when bad things happened, not sad. And I took that anger personally.

Yara must have come there looking for me, but instead, she found my dead father--and the police. It was Ruslan's mom who dealt with the mess, and I never even asked for the names of who had broken into Praejis Hall that night, never watched the news, and had no idea Yara had been there. I didn't even visit Grandpa's house after fighting with Yara there, determined to leave all my past behind, and nobody told me it had burned down--until Bogdan came a few months ago and accused me of Yara's death. And all I did was laugh into his face for such nonsense.

For almost four years, I believed Yara never reached out to me, because she was finally happy because I broke her heart and she moved on, forgot me, no looking back. I'm a fool. Bogdan and I have been hunting each other, while--

"Tatya, you burned your own sister alive?" Is she after Yara again? Wrong questions. Anger twists Tatya's face.

"I did what I had to do!" she hisses, lurching as though to bite me. "My sister was the first I tried Zagovor incantation on, and it worked! It only works on magicians, not people, you see? So you all did it to yourselves. You're cursed."

I cringe into a cold wall, away from her spiteful hiss. And you hexed your own sister. That's why after running away from the police, Yara ended up at my house, exactly where Tatya was waiting. Tatya used someone to compel her to come there, just as she used Lav to compel me to come here. At the university, Euklas mumbled something about a girl who promised him a way out; he said it wasn't Jasna, and Jasna went looking for that girl and found that girl--who attacked her--that's why she cast a sleeping spell upon herself. A red-haired witch Nilam saw in Jasna's last memory. Not Yara. Not Euklas's girlfriend at the masquerade.

Tatya.

"Won't you try to dissuade me? Say you aren't cursed, just confused and everything?" When I stay mute, her shoulders jerk impatiently. "I said beg me!"

"I beg you." My words come out unconvincing, flat, a mockery of a plea. I barely refrain from laughing next; however Zagovor might control my reflexes, but it does a poor job of swaying my feelings. Magic always has loopholes, right? And why would I beg if I'm not planning to die at the hands of this delusional creature tonight?

"Oh." Even under the veil of shadows, the disappointment etching upon Tatya's countenance is obvious. Her mood changes with unnatural swiftness, this is not a good sign. "You're more broken than I thought, Vlad." She is just two steps away from me right now, and I notice something tiny and silver in her hand. Every time she rolls the silver between her fingers, another jolt of uncertain desire to comply surges through me. That's how she controls me. It's been hours since I last took an elixir subduing my sigil's powers, but I can try to make her give me that thing. Closing my eyes for a second, I imagine the warmth of magic inside me stretching to her nerves...Nothing happens. Magic doesn't respond. Too early? Well, I'll disarm her the old-fashioned way, then.

"Do you want me to beg?" I ask, slowly, taking the smallest move toward her, waiting for Tatya to get involved in our conversation and let her guard down, so I can snatch the silver. "How?"

"You can say you regret what you did."

Another step. "I regret many things. Be more specific."

Just as she opens her mouth to answer, I lunge at her. We both topple to the stairs, its old stones poking my side. Tatya screams, her long hair flying around her cheeks and into my eyes, preventing me from seeing her token. With an awkward fight, we roll back down the steps, almost back to the very bottom. Almost.

"St--" I clasp my palm over her mouth, but she buries her teeth into my fingers so fiercely, I'm forced to retreat. "Stop!" she yells, her voice bouncing off the walls and filling the chapel with a sinister echo.

As if stunned, I freeze.

"Let me go." My hand, still holding her wrist, falls away. "And never fight me again." With a huff, she scrambles to her feet, keeping a safe distance from me, straightens her dress, and fixes the rings on her hand. Then she shows me her silver token. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's a cufflink. The cufflink. The one I was wearing the night Yara and I went to Nilam's nightclub, with a smear of my blood that I used to create a binding potion for Yara. Blood and a personal item dear to one's heart--a perfect token for controlling sorcery. "What did you promise Lav for stealing this from me?" I frown, pushing to my feet. My jacket is a dusty ripped mess, and my whole body aches after tumbling down the stairs, yet it's nice to know Tatya will have some bruises tomorrow, too. It's the least she deserves for hurting Yara.

"I promised Lav to make her like you," Tatya says, inspecting the cufflink glinting under the starlight. "I guess she thought I'd make her a Vedma, but I actually meant dead. Because that's what you'll be in the morning. And she'll be next." She giggles again, and the maniacal timbre thickening in her voice makes my hair stand on end. Something's off about her. Something happened and twisted her mind, convincing her to hunt magicians, including her own sister.

"I'd love that cufflink back, Tatya."

"I know. Laverna said it meant a lot to you since you wore it to a date with a girl. A new girl, Vlad, really? Must be someone special. Last time I checked, you switched to a boy."

Considering another attempt to knock Tatya off her feet--one move, without fighting her--I forget all my intentions. Someone? Then it dawns on me. Tatya doesn't know Yara is alive, Lav never told her. Yara's safe. So Laverna hid Yara's bones not from us but from Tatya, and when Nilam ended up scalded yesterday, she must have knocked the pot with Bloodcage potion on purpose--she tried to thwart our stupid plan, to save us. Lav might want to be a Vedma desperately enough to trust a maniac, but not enough to betray Yara to this maniac. "Tatya--"

"I think you want to break your arm."

"What?" No...But as she twists the cufflink, a new wave of uncertainty clouds my thoughts. Maybe she's right. Maybe I deserve punishment for all my mistakes. Before I register what this idea entails, I raise my arm and--smash my left elbow hard against the wall. Pain shoots through me. A stifled cry escaping my throat, I feel my bones displacing beneath my flesh, setting my nerves on fire. No, I absolutely did not want it!

"Are you ready to beg?" Tatya asks nonchalantly.

"Go to Hell." I clutch my maimed arm to my chest, but the pain only worsens. "It'll take more than broken bones."

"Fine. Let's go, then."

Without intention to submit, I drag my legs upstairs after her. Reaching the top, we enter a bell tower. There are no bells here now, and the wind menacingly howls past the columns supporting the domed roof.

The moonlight pools around us, and I finally see Tatya's features properly, when she nestles on the floor in the corner. She is older than I imagined. I keep thinking Yara's still eighteen, but if not for the three and a half years in the abyss, she would have been twenty-one by now. So Tatya's twenty-two. She looks well-rested, her dress new, her skin smooth, and--I hate to admit--quite beautiful in this dress flattering the curves of her body, reminding me of Yara so much. Apart from Tatya's shoulders she nervously rolls now and then, ever so slightly, and her eyes lit with hatred, nothing seems wrong.

Propping my uninjured arm against the corner opposite Tatya, I glance outside. It's not that high. Even if she orders me to jump again, I've had worse, I'll live. Still, I'm not thrilled to play her puppet forever. What am I to do? Run? Pointless. Attack her again? Proven dangerous. Beg her? Useless, although she'll like it. Reason with her? That's what a lawyer would have done--what my father would have done. Make her feel guilty. Break her until she has no strength to break me.

"Was it difficult?" I ask, faking a genuine interest. "Ending someone's life on purpose?"

Tatya stops toying with my cufflink, her expression going vacant as though I asked something confusing. "You want to know why I burned my sister."

"Yes."

"You really don't understand?" When I shake my head, she smiles again, and this time, sadness shines upon her face. "Poor idiot. I saved my sister. From you. I saw what you did to her, how you poisoned her, Vlad. My little Dimples...You see, my whole life I took care of her. Remember when you were fifteen and knocked on our window at night? Dimples thought I was asleep and agreed to sneak out with you. But I wasn't asleep, I was worried. She had never sneaked out with boys before, so I went after you two. At first, I thought you were silly kids on their first date, because she kissed you. Right here, outside this chapel, remember? It was sweet, truly, for a moment I even envied her, back then you were handsome already. But then you two sat by the river, and you told her something. You didn't touch her, but you clearly did something to her, because she looked dead for a second, lying there by the water. Then I blinked, and she was alive again, yet... different. Scary."

Scary? Not once has she called Yara by her name tonight, I realize. Power doesn't make people scary unless you're scared of that power. Confident maybe. And she thought I was going to hurt her sister, yet all she did was watch. After all, your fear for yourself was stronger than your need to protect your little Dimples.

"Since then everything was bad about my sister." She pauses, taking a ragged breath, and then begins speaking so fast and louder, louder, louder, as if trying to catch her scattering thoughts. "She didn't need me. She didn't look afraid. Nobody bullied her at school anymore. Just the opposite, everyone seemed to respect her! And Mom looked happy, treating Dimples like some rare bird that needed tending. Like she was better than me!" Her last word rings under the roof like a knife dropped in the middle of a fight. "Gather the raspberries, Tatya, we'll bake your sister's favorite pies. Don't eat the last one, share with Yaroslava. As though I'm a servant, not a big sister! When I finally convinced Dimples to leave to St. Daktalion, when I blocked her number on Mom's cell so she wouldn't bother us, when I was finally free from the service, guess what? I found the book you gave her, Vlad." Another stream of giggling. "Magic, huh? And our Mom knew it. I was the only one unworthy of the truth!"

"Your mom kne--?" I bite back the rest of my question. One of the rings on Tatya's finger is made of wood. The white wood, just like Yara's pendant. A terrible thought forms in my head. If their mom knew that Yara was a Vedma and what a Vedma's powers were capable of...Could she know this might happen? What if their mother was trying to make the bond between her daughters stronger, asking them to share those pies, not break them up?

Yet, it all went sideways.

"Go over there," Tatya says, and powerless against her commands, my feet bring me to the edge of the tower. "Wait." I stop between two columns, a sheer inch away from the low parapet, the night wind ruffling my hair and whipping at my cheeks. "Lean forward a little. Nothing drastic, though. I don't want you to fall yet."

It's not that high, I repeat to myself, but it's dark down below, very dark, and the wet marble embankment looming beneath doesn't look particularly cozy. Fear starts seeping into my chest. One jump won't kill me, but if she orders me to jump over and over? How many broken bones a human body can survive? No one will even find me here.

I'll never see Yara again.

Answering my fear, magic in my vein stirs, finally awakened, and in a desperate attempt, I send it out, toward Tatya's nerves. Still, nothing happens. I can't scare her. It's like trying to crack a metal wall with a paper hammer. With her ring on, Tatya is immune to my magic. To any magic.

"I've never done to Yara anything she didn't ask me to," I say loudly, fighting the wind muffling my voice, swallowing alarm thickening in my stomach as I glance down the dark void again. It's pretty high, after all. I'm doomed. "She wanted to be strong! That's why she came with me here that night."

"No, she had no idea what she wanted." I hear Tatya stand up, but she's careful not to approach me now. "It was my job to know, not yours! And I'm still doing this job. You wanted to know why I burned her? It was the only way to save her soul from your poison, the magic you infected her with! Fire is the most painful death of all, and pain washes away all sins."

"What about the magic you're using against me right now? Not a sin?"

My poison obviously rubs off on her, because Tatya starts passing behind my back, her steps irregular and irked. "No. No, there's no magic in my veins, and Zagovor only works on monsters like you, Vlad. I kill monsters only."

"Was your mother a monster? How did she die?"

"Shut up! I didn't kill our mother."

"I didn't say you did. Did you?"

"It was an accident, I came home late, and it was on fire already. Mom hallucinated things before, and she set our kitchen on fire once, when Dimples and I were kids. They found two bodies, because the second one was probably the homeless lady Mom kept giving food to."

A homeless lady tried to save your mother and you didn't? I can't ask that, it would definitely infuriate her further. But apparently, she likes talking, she wants me to understand her. That's why I'm still alive. "Can I step away from the edge, please? I can't hear you behind the wind."

"Fine, turn around." As I do, she stares at me, angry tears shimmering in her eyes. "But not a step up to me."

I nod, edging toward the nearest column, away from the void. "Did you cry, when your mother died? Do you miss her? I've never seen my mother, but I miss her every day."

Wiping her tears away, Tatya nods. "I do miss Mom and Dimples, but they're in Heaven, I know it. Bogdan's grandma told me once that Angels would never take someone you love from you without a reason. I didn't get it before, but when I saw Mom in that fire...it clicked. It was the punishment for her past, you see? For being a magician, too."

A punishment? My mind goes numb at the thought. So that's what happened to you, Tatya. She lost her mother and, instead of accepting her grief, she blamed magic, Yara, and me. Not the sorcery drives us insane after all, but simply human grief. That's why Tatya decided to hunt magicians--it was the only goal that helped her feel still in charge of her destiny. And her mother's death became the price required for such a lethal incantation as Zagovor to work in her hands.

She's just as broken as I am.