The rushnyk’s white linen had yellowed with age, yet its red embroidery was still as bright as blood. Somehow, seeing that heirloom piece made it all the more real for me. Mama knew how much the rushnyk meant to me, that it was the only thing I had left of my birth family. My most precious possession.

“You almost forgot this,” she said, wrapping the rushnyk around my shoulders like a shawl.

“But I should just leave it here.” I fingered the dusty hem of the tapestry with infinite care. “I don’t want it to get damaged.”

“No,” Mama murmured, fastening the cloth with an amber brooch I had coveted for years. An heirloom of her own, the pin had survived her death and transformation. “Because if you cannot find her, you can’t come back.”

I flinched, stunned as if struck. A heavy stone formed in my throat, and I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling uncontrollably.

“How can you say that?” I whispered.

Sighing, Mama took my hand in both of hers. Through the layers of silk and fur binding her hands, her fingers felt as fragile as sparrow bones. “Don’t look at me like that. You know you’re always welcome here, but this isn’t your world, Toma. This isn’t where you truly belong.”

I sank against her. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too. We all do.”

“You’re my family.”

She gently brushed her hand through my hair. “No matter where you go, Toma, we always will be.”

As the sun climbed higher into the sky, Mikhail and I set off through the woods. We carried buckskin rucksacks stocked full of supplies, with blankets tethered to the bags’ wooden frames. My satchel slapped against my thigh with each step, and my musket rested heavily upon my shoulder.

I had traveled far enough south to know that there would be rivers and springs along our route where we could refresh our stocks and fish. Then there would also be gnawing cold, exhaustion, and hungry monsters. Some things we couldn’t prepare for.

The sky was clear, but a nipping chill stropped the air so that each breath stung my nose and throat. I fashioned my rushnyk into a hood and tied the loose ends under my chin, my breath escaping in short, pallid puffs. The fabric smelled like home. I couldn’t place a particular aroma, only revel in the familiarity of it.

As I walked, I absently rubbed the sore knot on my temple. Every time I touched it, the faces of the two men flashed through my mind. When they had taken Galina, it felt like a part of my body, an organ that was essential to live, had been ripped out and dragged off too. They hadn’t even seen her as a person, just a monster to be captured.

If what Mikhail said was true, all hope would be lost if those men reached Koschei. My only chance at finding Galina would be out here in the wilderness.