“No,” said Polunochnitsa. “He was asleep, mostly. And also, he is very like you.” She gave Sasha a proprietary look. “Besides he couldn’t sit upright and reeked of blood, and that irritated me. It was easier to let the witch fix him. She regrets Tamara, you know, as much as she is angry.”

Vasya said, “It was kind then, my friend,” to the midnight-demon. Polunochnitsa looked simultaneously suspicious and pleased.

“You have met our great-grandmother,” Vasya added to her brother. “She is a madwoman who lives in Midnight. She is cruel and lonely, and sometimes kind.”

“The old woman?” said Sasha. “I—no. Surely not. Our great-grandmother must be dead.”

“She is,” said Vasya. “But that doesn’t matter, in Midnight.”

Sasha looked thoughtful. “I would go back. When this is over. Cruel or no, she seemed to know a great many things.”

“Perhaps we can go together,” said Vasya.

“Perhaps,” said Sasha. They grinned at each other, like children contemplating adventures, instead of a witch and a monk on the cusp of battle.

Vladimir Andreevich was shooting them both black looks. “Brother Aleksandr,” he broke in stiffly, making the sign of the cross. “This is a strange meeting.”

“God be with you,” said Sasha.

“And what in God’s name—” began the Prince of Serpukhov, before Vasya interjected hastily.

“Sasha will explain,” she said, “while I perform one last errand. If we are fortunate, we will have company on the way north.”

“Better hurry,” said the Bear. He was looking critically over the Tatar camp where they had begun relighting their fires. Pozhar’s ears twitched at the faint noise of their furious shouting. “They’re like a stirred-up beehive.”

“You’re coming with me,” she told him. “I don’t trust you out of my sight.”

“Quite right,” said the Bear and looked up at the sky with a sigh of pleasure.

WHEN OLEG OF RYAZAN came back to his tent at last, he looked like a man who’d lived eternities in one night. He pushed the flap aside, walked in and stood silent a moment. Vasya let out a soft breath, and his clay lamp flared to life.

Oleg looked utterly unsurprised. “If the general finds you, he will kill you slowly.”

She stepped into the lamplight. “He is not going to find me. I came back for you.”

“Did you?”

“You have seen the firebird in the sky,” she said. “You have seen flames in the night and horses running mad. You have seen the Bear in the shadows. You have seen our strength. Your men are already whispering of the strange power of the Grand Prince of Moscow, that has reached even into the camp of the Tatar.”

“Strange power? Perhaps Dmitrii Ivanovich has no care for his immortal soul, but am I to damn my soul, allying myself with devils?”

“You are a practical man,” Vasya said gently. She stepped closer. He knotted his hands together. “You did not choose to side with the Tatar for loyalty, but for survival’s sake. Now you see that the opposite may be true. That we can win. Under the Khan you will never be more than a vassal, Oleg Ivanovich. If we win, then you will be a prince in your own right.”