Galina’s memories were disjointed and darkened as all upyri’s were, but she remembered several key details of her death. She had been hiding in the forest from loud noises, and in the seconds before her death, she saw a man approaching. I had always assumed that her killer had targeted her in particular, but what if she had only been collateral damage? If the battlefield’s decay had truly been caused by a koldun, could that same event have been what led to her death?

I mulled it over as Mikhail and I walked in silence. Within time, the monotony of the forest and patchwork blue sky was disrupted by twin pillars of smoke on the horizon. I felt a stir of excitement at the sight of them.

“Finally.” Mikhail sighed in relief. “The town. Looks like there must be a factory.”

“Will people be there?”

A wry smile touched his lips. “I imagine.”

“Are you worried about soldiers recognizing you?”

“Of course. But as I said before, a lot has changed, even in just the last few months. I barely even recognize myself anymore.” He plucked at his coat’s singed hem. “Besides, do I look like a tsar to you?”

“Not really,” I admitted, turning ahead as the trees thinned.

I expected to come across a ramshackle scatter of crumbling houses, much like the abandoned village I had grown up in. Instead, we emerged from the forest to find a street bustling with people. Living, breathing people.

I froze in awe. I couldn’t recall the last time I had seen such a crowd, and their clothes were so beautiful. Printed and dyed fabric. Brass buttons as globular as the berries of a guelder rose. Long, ruffled skirts with no patches or tears, their collars and hems embroidered in red—a symbol of the Troika faithful, my birth mother had insisted on adorning my hems and collar with the color, as if it might protect me. The bogatyri among them proudly displayed their purple sashes and epaulets, while the most devout wore garments of pure white and crimson.

“Mikhail, isn’t this amazing?” I turned to him, unable to stop myself from grinning. “Look at all these people. And look, some of them are bogatyri like you!”

“You should visit the capital,” he said, clearly unimpressed. “We need to keep moving.”

Wood smoke filled the air. A net of wires spread overhead, connected to tall poles. I remembered scenes like this from my childhood, but it was all so much brighter here. After enduring yesterday’s horror, I felt like I had entered a beautiful new world.

“Wait,” I said, grinding my heels into the cobblestones. “I want to look at this.”

Mikhail shook his head. “We don’t have time.”

“You go on ahead.” I pointed at a bridge that stretched across the river. “We’ll meet there.”

He looked conflicted. “Toma, I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Besides, maybe those two soldiers stopped here. I want to ask around.”