She stared. “Children? To the king of the sea?”

He nodded once. “Twins. And I told him that among his grandchildren’s children was one I loved. And so, the sea-king gave this to me. For you.” He almost smiled. “There is no magic in it now, and no binding. It is a gift.”

She still didn’t reach for the jewel. “How long have you known?”

“Not as long as you think, although I wondered whence your strength. I wondered if it could be only the witch, a mortal woman with magic who’d passed her talent to her daughters. But then I saw Varvara, and I knew it was more than that. Chernomor has fathered sons, now and again, and often they have their father’s magic, and lives that are longer than the lives of men. So I asked Midnight for the truth, and she told me. You are the sea-king’s great-grandchild.”

“Will I live a long time then?”

“I do not know—who could know? For you are witch and chyert and woman too; a descendant of Russian princes and Pyotr Vladimirovich’s daughter. Chernomor might know; he said he would answer questions, but only if you came to see him.”

It was too much to take in. But she took the jewel. It was warm in her hand; she caught a faint whiff of salt. It felt as though he’d handed her a key to herself, but one she could not examine. There was too much else to do.

“Then I will go to the sea,” she said. “If I survive the dawn.”

He said heavily, “I will be at the battle. But my task is still the dead, Vasya.”

“Mine is the living,” said the Bear, and he smiled. “What a pair we are, my twin.”

34.

Lightbringer

GRIM DAY, AND ALL ABOUT them the army was stirring; beyond, far out on the great field of Kulikovo, the Tatars were awake. The Russians could hear the Tatars’ horses snorting into the chill. But nothing could be seen; the world was obscured in thick mist.

“No battle until the fog burns off,” said Sasha. He had no stomach for food, but he drank a little mead, passed the bottle to Vasya. When he woke, he’d found her already awake, sitting alone before his renewed fire, a line between her brows, pale but composed.

It was cold, the sky gray above the mist, promising more early snow. Then the sun heaved a cold rim over the edge of the earth, and the mist began to thin. He drew a deep breath. “I must go to Dmitrii. He is waiting for a messenger. Whatever happens, I will find you before the fighting begins. In the meantime, go with God, sister. You are to go unseen and run no risks.”

“No,” she said and smiled reassuringly. “My business is with chyerti this day. Not with the swords of men.”

“I love you, Vasochka,” he said, and left her.