“As long as you stay here, our safety will be jeopardized. You killed six people, do you know that?”

Vanya didn’t answer, but from the stricken look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t realized it in the moment. Using his power must have been even more impersonal than pulling his rifle’s trigger—simply giving over to the uncontrollable force that raged within and allowing it to enact change on the world in his stead.

“Three of those men were prominent residents of the New Quarter. You will never be able to wash their blood from your hands.” She regarded him levelly. “As high priestess, it is my duty to protect the citizens of the Old Quarter. Even if it means doing something I find morally reprehensible.”

“That’s not fair!” I cried, shooting to my feet. “You can’t do this. Vanya saved this town. He saved your people.”

“At seven o’clock tomorrow morning, the koldun Ivan Zoravich Azarov will be taken out to the swamp, administered purification rites, and quietly executed. His body will be dismembered, a stake driven through his back, and his mouth filled with moss.”

“This is illegal,” Mikhail said, rising from his chair. “Under imperial law, even kolduny are deserving of a trial. Anyone accused of being a witch must face the Holy Tribunal—”

“Shut up, city boy,” Vanya said quietly. The color hadn’t yet returned to his face, but he no longer looked shocked. Just wary.

“As a representative of the bogatyr elite, Duke Kirill will serve as witness to the execution.”

Vanya’s eyes narrowed. “Duke Kirill. He’s—”

“Yes, the nobleman who warned the council that tensions had started to rise.” Her lips rose in a bitter smile. “It pained him to hear what happened this morning. He sends you his deepest sympathies.”

Vanya nodded slowly, lifting his hand to his face to discreetly wipe his eyes.

“I brought you new clothes,” the high priestess said, nodding to the bag. “I’ll take the ones you wore today, along with your identification papers and work permit. There’s a small amount of money in there. Enough to get you to Kraylesa at least. I spoke with Inga Elenovna over the telephone to explain the situation, and she told me that if you end up in Detskaya, you should pay a visit to her factory.”

Vanya laughed, but it was a wrenching sound, deep with misery. “You’ve killed me.”

“Not yet.” She took her cloak from the rack and slid it on. She picked up her hat and held it in her hands. “You still have tonight. Just make sure you leave before daybreak.”

“What about my cat?” Vanya asked.

“I’ll find someone to take care of it for you,” she said.

“Her.”

“Her. Now.” She held out the bag. “Your clothes, please.”

Snatching the bag from her hand, Vanya strode into the other room. When he returned several minutes later, he had exchanged his dark shirt for one of bleached linen, adorned around the cuffs and collar with red. The pants were similar enough to his own, but sewn of brown gabardine with looser legs, meant to be rolled and tucked into one’s boots.