By grace of my beloved wife Sally and the Elemental Creatures we share, I, Pavel Ivanov, am writing here for the amusement and education of those of my blood who will follow me.

It was only when the candle guttered out and she suddenly couldn’t see to read that she emerged from her self-imposed trance. By this time she knew what a Domovoy was, that her great-great-grandfather had been driven from his home when the boyar—or “great lord”—who owned the land his village was on decided to have a hunting preserve and forest there instead. She knew that while technically a “serf” (“one very short step from a slave”), Pavel had been a very learned man because of his magic. That a priest in his village, also with magic, had taught him the use of his powers, and his letters, both from the exceedingly young age of six or so. That when the boyar had driven the villagers from their homes and set fire to them to force them to leave, he had gone to the new location and just kept going westward, making use of his abilities to keep from being pursued. And finding allies and helpers along the way. It was very like a series of short fairy tales, except all of the incidents he described ended well instead of tragically. The candle went out at the point when, in the book, he had reached Hungary.

She looked up from the book to find that her aunt had finished her work and was looking up at her with an amused expression. “The Glory ain’t so bad now, is it?” Jinny asked with faint irony. “Iss like anythin’ else. Y’all kin use a axe t’chop wood, or t’ take a feller’s haid off. Same with th’ Glory.”

“How’d he get the Domovoy t’ come with him?” she asked, as she handed the book down to her aunt and climbed down the ladder to the floor. “I mean, I guess this here Domovoy’s the same one he had in Roosha?”

“House got burned up,” Jinny said shortly. “The rich man what wanted the village burned the whole place down. Weren’t no house fer the Domovoy t’stay in. So it follered him. On’y he didn’t know thet till he built this here house. An’ iffen y’all don’t go t’sleep yore gonna be dreadful sorry come mornin’.”

“Yes’m,” she replied obediently, took the book from her aunt and put it with her Bible, and climbed the ladder into her loft.

But the mere act of placing the book with her Bible awoke all those doubts again, and a few more. Despite what she had learned about how her mother felt about her, she still loved her Ma, and after reading about Pavel’s longing for the home that was lost to him, she was homesick again. Aunt Jinny had let slip that it was possible to learn how to protect yourself from the poisons in Ducktown and Soddy—so what if she could get Aunt Jinny to teach her that, right away? Wouldn’t that mean that she could go home after all? And as strong as she was now, she could help with everything, including adding to the family larder by foraging and fishing.