When Night Falls

part iii| chapter xxii

SPRING PREFERS DAY TIME, Anitchka notes, as she strides into the mansion hours after they had last met. She's a rare visitor, perhaps the only one since Anitchka made this land her home. When she passes through the hallway of mirrors, the reflections endless, she pauses for a second. Hesitation flickers across her features, hair spiralling downward with her mood. "Can this really be done?"

"I hope so," Anitchka mutters, holding open the door for her. A twinge of fear turns her stomach, and she wonders what will become of them if the Tsar discovers her deception. Of course, he would kill her, ruin her in the most brutal, ruthless way possible. Perhaps she would wish she were dead. She walks behind Spring, watching the Count stand upright to welcome her.

He tips his head in acknowledgement, and she notices his lashes skim his cheekbones. "Thank you for joining us."

"Interesting," Spring remarks, the train of her dress swaying around her as she observes the room, "It is an exact replica of the Tsar's palace, but darker. Suits you, Collector."

Dmitri is propped against the window, and he coughs at her words. "Suits Master, eh? What do you think, Bones, any thoughts or feelings about this?"

"Bones?"

Anitchka shakes her head vehemently. "None. I don't have an opinion on this. Not that it matters anyway." She avoids the Count, observing instead the thick layers of snow upon snow outside. "Where are Olga and Helga?"

The goblins enter with a pot of tea, its scent thick with lavender and honey. As they push it onto the table, the Count holds up a hand, thin fingers fastening around the handle to pour it for everyone. When he moves near Anitchka, she finds him a hairsbreadth away, arm brushing hers as he holds forward her cup. "It does matter to me what you think. Or feel," he whispers lowly, wintry eyes shadowed by his tousled hair, and her heart skips a beat.

They are interrupted by Spring's dainty voice. "This is marvellous. You must tell me how you've made this." She looks at them with a curled smile. "Don't mind me, please, go on."

"We were just talking about how glad we are to have you here," the Count offers, throat hoarse.

"Yes, I believe you." She takes a calculated sip of her tea. "How will we be convincing the Tsar to stray into the land of the dead?"

The Count knits his brows, the edges creasing. "I doubt he would come here without any qualms."

Dmitri's claws scratch the table as he crawls over the surface. "Bones, this is very risky. If he discovers anything amiss, he'll kill you."

"I simply won't let him," the Count's tone snaps before Anitchka can even answer. "She's not going alone, no matter what."

She walks in brisk circles, each step marred by worry. Anitchka is terrified, but she clasps her hands firmly to hide it. She has never been a girl of steel. Instead, her cold, empty years have left her a head to survive. She gulps at the millions of possibilities for her to fail. Death stands in the same room as her, yet it lounges in a land further away. "I will meet him."

"No," the Count, Dmitri, Olga, and Helga all hiss in unison.

"Meeting the Tsar means that I'm keeping my part of the deal," Anitchka says, fiddling her fingers. "I want to win his trust, not disappear after a promise."

Spring's feet dance across the floor as she nears her. "What do you intend to do once you reach the palace?"

Anitchka heads to the windowsill, aware of the curious gazes fixated on her back as she squints through the snowstorm. It flutters through the strong wind, cold enough for the chill to seep through the glass when she presses her hand against it. "I'm going to lie that I have found something about your name." She casts a brief look behind at her company. "The Count had said that demons cannot lie. But I can."

The laugh that escapes Spring is unlike the warm breeze she had imagined, bordering on the icy beginnings of a winter night. "Oh, you're certainly a quick one. I am impressed, human, very impressed."

"We have to first put it in the Tsar's head that I am just as the others in the land of the dead," Anitchka continues, "He needs to believe everything I say in a heartbeat, and that will be the case if he thinks that I can't lie."

Dmitri shakes his wings, grinning. "That can be arranged."

"When we were trapped in the In-Between," Helga mutters, rubbing her hands, "We heard the goblins' chatter. They trade secrets with the Tsar in exchange for abandoned human children at the edge of the hamlet."

A lump settles in the nest of Anitchka's throat and she stills. "I'll be leaving that to you then, Dmitri. Olga and Helga, can the two of you join him in tricking the goblins?"

"Yes, Mistress," Olga affirms, and she hears a dark smile in her words. "We'll do to those goblins what they did to us."

"Spring?" Anitchka turns to face the ethereal woman,
watching her hair curl softly as though a halo wreathed with florals.
"I have a plan, and it involves you trapping the Tsar in your cottage."

a/n: who's your favourite character so far? x