YAGA | ✓

NINETEEN

She would cry for herself, and herself only.

All her life, Milena knew that she was selfish - but what wrong did being selfish bring? Being selfish meant that she was happy, because she attended to her own needs, found her own sanctuary. Kindness was a lie, taught to children to separate them from their own true joy. The world was cruel like that, forbidding joy and forcing ideas on them, ideas that meant no-one could live the life they wanted. Those people were weak, idiots and cowards, know-nothings and people pleasers.

Milena Koreva was a lot of things - but she was not weak.

Creak.

Snapping out of her daze, she raced up the stairs, both hands closed around the knives in her holster. The walls upstairs were covered in some sort of mould in the corners, a thick veil of dust covering all the minimal decorations. A single chair was in the landing, two doors on either side. Deciding that she would strike first, Lena flung open the door, heart racing. Blood pounded in her ears, electricity sawing at her spine.

Her eyes met a pair of dark brown ones, and with a heavy breath, she attacked, clawing at Yaga's face with her knives and kicking as often as she could. The witch did the same, grunting as her hands formed into claws and her eyes shut, straining. With a jolt, Lena pounced on top of her, realising what Yaga was trying to do, her beautiful face taunt with concentration. In the moonlight filtering through the grimy window, she could see the sheen of sweat breaking out on Yaga's brow.

So Lana did what she did best.

Tricks. Dancing around the room, dodging the attacks that met her, appearing one moment and disappearing another. But she didn't aim for the heart with her knives, only slashing to create ugly scars rather than real life-threatening injuries. Yaga could heal herself, she mused, landing on top of a bookshelf that felt as if it might crumble.

The witch had harnessed enough power now and was twisting her hands in a way that struck Lena as almost inhuman, though the thought was laughable, given who she was, herself. Beneath their feet, the floor began to turn and move, as if the wood were a pair of great, monstrous teeth, swallowing them both whole. Before Milena could aim a jab at Yaga's eye, they both crashed down, frozen momentarily as they adjusted to their surroundings.

They were in the room downstairs, where Dimitri's body lay.

When Yaga saw it, the scraps of colour that remained in her face completely drained, and her eyes glinted with ice in the light coming from the fireplace. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she gave Lana a single nod.

"Did you do it?" she croaked, pursing her cracked lips.

Lana stalked over to the body, where a long trickle of blood travelled from Dimitri's open mouth and down to the floor.

"Yes."

Through half-shut eyes, Yaga gave a look that was nearly a smile. "Thank you."

Shrugging, Lena kicked the corpse. "Don't think for a moment that I did it for you. I killed him because I wanted to. Understand?"

"I would expect no such debt from you. But pray, I ask, to grant me another." Yaga's hand gently went over his ripped throat.

"And what would that be?"

"Give me the lives of the children of Salovo, and your family's will be spared. Let them not grow in a world so thick with hatred. Let me-" her voice cracked. "Let me save them."

Milena laughed. "And what will it gain me?"

"You will turn your back on this town and never hear its name again."

"I see. And why have you decided this?"

"I am done fighting with Dimitri. But as long as I am who I am, his hatred will live on. It is my duty to banish this hatred. We were just children, so I will take theirs. A life for a life, da?"

"Your reasoning is correct, Izeva. And here-" she tossed a broom from the floor. "Weapons needn't be yours, but it may be hard to clean in the forest."

"Yes, I believe I will need the Chernobog's help with that."

But she took it.

It was only then that Milena saw that Yaga's wounds had already healed. Scars took their place, one especially hideous one carved into her cheek, ripping down to her chin. Her nose looked as if it had been broken, now crooked.

God, she could heal herself quickly, at least.

But the scars wouldn't fade along with them.

Those, Yaga's expression told her, would stay forever.

•••