Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Vasilisa hovered above the demon, positioning herself to strike, leaving just enough of her spirit to fight off an attack inside the cabin should Kendal manage to breach the defenses. Now, being torn in three directions, she was disoriented and feeling slightly sick. There was no way she could kill the demon before he would retaliate against Odessa.
She looked closer at Odessa. She fought and struggled, but there was something off about the way she was going about it. Vasilisa wasn’t certain what it was exactly, but in her fear for her friend, she had accepted what and who she was seeing at face value. That was the number one cardinal rule you didn’t break in dealing with demons. That had been drilled into her since she was three years of age.
Slow down. Have patience. If demon Kendal killed his hostage, he wouldn’t have any leverage. He could stand outside the cabin and pound away until every appendage he had was burnt to a crisp. It wouldn’t matter. She wasn’t opening the door.
Vasilisa narrowed her gaze on Odessa. If she was a replica of the innkeeper, it was a very detailed one. Her heart sank, but she persevered, studying Odessa in great detail. Her legs were stretched out in front of her as Kendal dragged her to the front porch and up the stairs. They flopped around and thrashed, as if she were fighting him, but in reality, it was more as if she were a rag doll, and her legs followed the body being propelled forward. At times, her feet appeared to be on backward. Kendal dragged Odessa over a rock hidden beneath the surface of snow, and Odessa snapped a reprimand in a harsh, guttural tone.
Vasilisa let her breath out slowly. Odessa was a demon as well. This wasn’t the innkeeper but a substitute. Lilith hadn’t had time to capture the two and put her plan into motion. These two demons had been caught aboveground when Vasilisa had sealed the earth, so they couldn’t return to the underworld. Lilith must have commanded them to bring Vasilisa to her—or she wanted Vasilisa dead.
The demon began to drag Odessa up the three stairs to once again gain the porch so he could break down the door. This time, when he placed his feet on the stairs, the embers dancing in the darkened sky above his head began to whirl around to the beat of her fingers on the windowsill. Her spirit directed them from above the two demons, moving the sparks together inside the fast-spinning cones.
The demon stopped when he heard crackling fire. Looking up, he could see what amounted to a roaring wildfire already out of control, but this one had telltale blue flames. He dropped the knife from Odessa’s throat and tried to run, leaping off the stairs and, with a hoarse cry, turning in midair to face the raging fire. Odessa shot to her feet and dove away from the cabin in the opposite direction from Kendal. That didn’t stop the deadly fire from finding either demon.
Inside the cabin, Vasilisa opened her arms wide, directing the blue flames to drop down over the demons and consume them. Staggering, nearly drained completely of all energy, she almost fell over backward. She had to hang on to the chairs and then stumbled her way to the bed to lie down beside Afanasiv.
It was the bad luck of the hapless demons that she’d been taught to wield blue flames—a demon killer—since she was a child. She’d started out controlling it on her palm. Making the flames spring to life and then dance. She had many scorched curtains and covers. Twice she’d set her room on fire. Bronya, her mother, had been so patient with her, laughing and turning Vasilisa’s frustration into laughter, as well.
Bronya had regaled Vasilisa with the many times she’d set things on fire, including her father’s best shirt as he was escorting her mother to a play. She’d hurled the blue flame out the window, not realizing her parents weren’t in the carriage yet. The flame had landed on the back of his shirt and raced up the material as hungry as could possibly be.
Fortunately, her mother was facing Bronya’s window and saw the blue flame streaking like a comet out of the sky, and she dealt with it, getting her husband to change his shirt without any fuss. Her mother was very skilled in that area.
Vasilisa lay for a long while, savoring the memories. They were good memories, ones she treasured. Thinking of anything her mother had told her about her life—especially now, when the wheel of fortune seemed to be upside down for her—gave her a necessary boost of confidence.
When she felt strong enough, she made her way to the window again. Looking out over the snow, only ashes drifted away on the wind. She went back to the small cot and sat beside Afanasiv.