"How did you come to be part of Geroi Moskvy?" After a moment of silence, Polyanitsa glanced up at her companion for the night, the question still hanging in the air between them as they jogged along the streets of Moscow, the streetlights casting odd shadows as her companion drifted below them, her passing leaving behind no more sound than a faint rattle of sticks in the breeze.

After a long minute, Nochnaya Vedma shrugged. "Something to do, I guess," she finally replied. "I found my grandmother's broom in the attic a while back; when I figured out what it could do, I started experimenting with the limits of it. Little things at first – flying and the like. But it wasn't too long before I realized I could do other things, too." She held her hand out, and a swirl of fog wreathed her arm. "Then, when I saw that Geroi Moskvy was shorthanded, I asked if I could join."

Polyanitsa's stomach clenched, and she looked away. Shorthanded. Such a simple word for it; hardly capable of conveying the truth of it fully. Some days she thought she was past it, that she had moved on; others, it all came back in a surge of emotion. She could still remember going to the door to find Nochnoy Storozh standing there, his jaw clenched, a stoic look on his face.

She had already known just from the look Nochnoy Storozh had given her – even if she had still refused to accept it.

"Why?" Nochnaya Vedma asked, looking down at her curiously, pulling Polyanitsa's attention away from her memories. "How did you come to join this group?"

Polyanitsa swallowed, suppressing a sniffle. "You said that Geroi Moskvy was 'shorthanded'?" she began, arching an eyebrow at Nochnaya Vedma. Nochnaya Vedma nodded expectantly. Polyanitsa let out a breath. "Do you know why?"

She shrugged. "Well, they lost a member…"

"He was murdered!" Polyanitsa burst out, before clamping her mouth shut. Nochnaya Vedma's eyes widened, and she shot up higher into the air in surprise, staring at Polyanitsa wide-eyed. Softer, Polyanitsa continued, "Svyatogor was murdered. By two monsters from Paris who had no business coming to Russia in the first place." She sniffled, her voice trembling. "He was just doing what he thought was right, and they killed him for it."

Nochnaya Vedma's mouth fell open, and she covered her mouth with one hand, holding herself on the broom one-handed. "He was your…"

"He was my fiancé," Polyanitsa finished, nodding. Her shoulders slumped. She looked away from Nochnaya Vedma, blinking several times. "We were supposed to get married this summer. But instead, I'm left trying to untangle our lives and return to his parents what should go to them." She made a sour face.

"I'm… sorry." Nochnaya Vedma's voice trembled, and she looked down at the ground below her. "I… can't imagine how difficult that must have been for you."

Polyanitsa sighed. "Thank you. Some days are… better than others. But some days… it's as though it only just happened."

Nochnaya Vedma fell silent for a long moment. "Does it help?" she finally asked. "Being a hero, I mean. Does that help with the grief?"

Cocking her head to one side, Polyanitsa pondered that question. Did it help? At first, she hadn't known what to do. When Nochnoy Storozh had told her what had happened, that Svyatogor had been killed, she had needed to do something, anything, to make the pain go away. She had been a competitive gymnast through school and university – she had almost gone to the Olympics twice. It had taken a few months for Nochnoy Storozh and Koldunya to agree to it, but she had eventually convinced them to let her join their group. Taking Svyatogor's place. Not that anyone could truly replace him. But this way, she could help people, and do so in Svyatogor's name. But did it really help? Finally, she shrugged. "It… helps some," she finally answered, looking away. "At least it gives me something to do, instead of just feeling sorry for myself."

Nochnaya Vedma nodded in understanding.

Polyanitsa coughed awkwardly. "We should probably check down the next street," she told Nochnaya Vedma, glancing toward the corner a half-block ahead of them.

Nodding, Nochnaya Vedma opened her mouth to respond, only for the words to catch in her throat. A sudden creak, followed by the sound of breaking glass, carried from that direction toward them. Immediately, Polyanitsa took off in a dead sprint, tearing down the street as fast as she could possibly move. Behind her, Nochnaya Vedma pulled back on her broom and ascended above the buildings, scanning the street in that direction carefully. Polyanitsa's eyes narrowed. Seconds later, Nochnaya Vedma dove back down toward Polyanitsa, who reached up one hand and grabbed the broom, allowing Nochnaya Vedma to draw her up into the air. Polyanitsa's stomach lurched, and the wind caught her as Nochnaya Vedma banked sharply to fly over the buildings, the street spreading out in front of them in either direction, dark and looming, one of the streetlights broken and the other flickering intermittently. Up and down the street, Polyanitsa could see the signs over three or four banks, one of which sported a shattered window. Something drew Polyanitsa's eye toward the next corner, but when she looked back, there was nothing there. Giving a single swing as they crested the buildings and dropped toward the ground, Polyanitsa threw her feet forward and released the broom. Nochnaya Vedma picked up speed, racing down the street and accelerating as she went. Polyanitsa drew her arms in close and spun through a tight loop that carried her over the speeding Nochnaya Vedma to land just in front of the bank, as Nochnaya Vedma disappeared down the street.

Without hesitating, Polyanitsa carefully vaulted in through the broken-out window and landed in a crouch in the bank's deserted lobby to find the room in utter disarray. Furniture had been pushed aside, the panels separating the tellers from the clients broken down and thrown across the room. Several drawers had been opened and their contents taken, though a half-dozen bills had been separated out and placed on the desk. Polyanitsa furrowed her brows, cautiously moving further into the bank, one baton in hand. The door to the vault had been opened, though it appeared to be intact; inside, at least fifteen safety deposit boxes had been removed and emptied and left on the floor. Pausing at the vault entrance, she forced herself to slow her breathing and heartrate, to listen for anyone else who might be nearby. But after a long minute of silence, she allowed herself to relax. Other than herself, no one else seemed to be there in the bank – nothing else moved in the entire building. Finally, Polyanitsa made her way back out of the bank and hopped through the broken window to find Nochnaya Vedma just setting her broom down on the pavement outside.

"They took as much as they could get," Polyanitsa reported. "But I think they knew what they wanted. They left behind a couple bills, and they got the vault open without breaking it. All in all, it seemed like a professional job."

Nochnaya Vedma hummed thoughtfully. "I tried to find them, but they were too far away. Almost like they might have known I was coming."

Polyanitsa furrowed her brows. "But how could they have?"

Nochnaya Vedma frowned. "I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "But I know magic when I see it."

"Magic?"

Nochnaya Vedma quirked an eyebrow at her. "What else am I supposed to call it?"

"Fair."