I no longer feel bad for not updating for several months, after this chapter. It was difficult to write. Enjoy.
Dimitri's grandmother was a woman completely different than any I had met before. She wore that sort of old, eccentric look on her face that told you she knew what she was saying, and you'd do well to remember that.
When Anton led me to her house, she was already standing there outside, hands on hips, waiting. She lived in a village not too far away from the base, and Valik had let me go, but insisted that Anton stay in close proximity at all times. It wasn't that he thought I'd get attacked by Strigoi, he told me. He said I had a lot of other reasons to be scared.
We approached the gate, and Anton stopped walking. I stopped beside him, not daring to take my glance off the old woman. I already feared her, and she hadn't spoken yet.
"Well..." Anton said. He looked uneasy. "After you, then." At this point, I did look at him.
"What?"
"Well yeah. You're going first," he told me, and nudged me in front of him. I stumbled. The old woman stared.
"You're so immature," I hissed, and straightened up. Nothing for it; I pushed open the gate, and walked over to where she stood. I almost said hello, but she fixed me with this piercing stare, as if to say 'shut up'. So I did.
She stared at me for a good minute or so, until I felt quite awkward. Then I was saved by Anton, who tripped over a stone in his attempt to approach subtly. The woman's eyes flickered towards him annoyedly, and I swear he squeaked.
"Stupid boy," she snapped at him. Then she turned back to me, and of all things... she smiled. It was like some sort of magical transformation — it was like she'd become a whole other person. "Come in, child. We've long awaited you."
The entrance hall was densely clouded with a strong scent that I couldn't quite pick out. It smelt alien, and yet at the same time like I knew it. Another one of those "home" things that I seemed to stumble across. Something I knew, but that I didn't. Come to think of it, though, Dimitri's room had always smelt like this... not so overwhelmingly, but it did seem similar.
The old lady ushered me in, beaming, and almost closed the door on Anton who yelped in surprise. She rolled her eyes and muttered something in Russian that I didn't quite catch — probably some sarcastic remark — and let him in.
Anton huffed, obviously upset by the negative attention he was getting. The woman had stopped again, and was watching me quietly.
"Yelizaveta," she shouted, suddenly. Anton jumped from the sound, making the old woman chortle. "Yelizaveta, Roza's here. Dimka's devochka." I looked at Anton questioningly.
"She's calling to Dimitri's mother, Yelizaveta. She says you're his girlfriend," he muttered under his breath, trying to look, I assumed, inconspicuous. There was no reply from within the house.
"Yelizaveta!" she yelled. Still, silence. She sighed. "Come through, Roza. Anton, stop dawdling."
I snickered quietly at the blatant picking on Anton, and followed her in. The room that she led us into was small and elegant, with a wood floor, mostly covered by a worn rug that looked like it had seen years of use, and a low table in the centre with small cushions surrounding it. Pictures lined the wall of six or seven different people: two women, which I assumed to be the lady in front of me and Yelizaveta; and of Valik and Dimitri as well. I didn't recognise the other three, three women who only bore very slight resemblance to the rest. She sat on one side, and gestured for us to sit opposite.
"Hello, child. My name is Nadejda. I assume... Dimitri mentioned me to you." The pause before she said his name showed me she felt as much pain as I did. I nodded dumbly.
"So he did tell you, then, who I am and what I do."
"Sort of. You're a... a... vră—"
"In Russia, we say koldonja(1)," she told me. "In Europe, they say lamia(2) — America, I do not know. Probably also lamia, but it's not the same for them. Not the same for you. In America, a lamia is just another sort of witch... but I'm not quite a witch, child." She gave a small smile, and watched me absorb all this, nodding. "You remember Dimitri telling you, now."
Author's Note:
(1) koldonja: колдунья. I translated it to Roman lettering as best I could, using the Wikipedia article on the Russian alphabet. Apologies if I got it wrong.
(2) I went onto the Romanian Wikipedia, searched vrăjitoare, and translated it into English on Google translate. (I then translated lamia to get the Russian one.) I'm trusting Google that it does mean lamia, but it probably doesn't.
- Also, while I'm here... I don't know that devochka is accurate, but from what I've learnt through relentless internet searches, it does seem to be near enough what I'm looking for.
"You can tell that?" I asked, quite surprised by how much she seemed to know of my life.
"My child, I know a lot about everything. I can see, hear, smell anything I will ever need or want to know from a mile off. I know everything I could want to know about you." I blushed. Oh dear. "Including that," she said, chuckling. I was pretty sure, now, that I was close to a tomato red. Anton, who had been sitting quietly, now perked up.
"What? What's this?" he asked.
"None of your business, boy. Pipe down," Nadejda snapped. "Would you like some tea, dear?" she asked me. On the table, she already had a small black teapot sitting next to her. I thought it would be impolite to decline, and I was quite scared of her because of her general reaction to Anton.
"Yeah... yes, please," I replied. Nadejda rolled her eyes, and pulled out some cups from one of the cabinets along the wall.
"Enough with the formalities, Roza! I know you inside out — and I know you're not like this at all. I think I should be more scared of you." She smiled. "You remind me of myself you know, when I was young. All fired up and ready to go. You've got that guardian spark to your soul, I see. You're good at what you do." She pushed one of the cups towards me, another towards Anton who picked it up in silence and sipped slowly from it, staring with intense concentration at the wall ahead of him. The third, she kept for herself, though as she poured a fourth, she shouted, "Yelizaveta!" once more.
"So, child, do you know why you are here?" she asked, after she had finished serving up the tea. I sipped thoughtfully on my tea.
"Anton suggested it would be a good idea," I replied, looking to try and push him back into the old woman's good books. He glanced over at the sound of his name, and Nadejda looked at him appraisingly.
"The boy did something right for once then," she laughed. She looked back over to me. "But that's not really why you're here, Roza. Think about it carefully."
"I need help to find Dimitri," I said, after some pondering.
"Why?" she pressed. She knew the answer, I realised. She wanted to know how I'd say this. How devoted I actually was. She wanted to her it from me.
"Dimitri told me he would rather die than become a Strigoi. That Strigoi are soulless monsters, and whilst they might look like the people we once knew, they aren't. Not anymore," I told her quietly. She nodded.
"So you want to know how to kill my grandson?" she asked. I flinched at the sheer brutality of her bluntness.
"I want to know how to carry out what he asked of me."
"But he didn't ask you specifically."
I cracked. I stood up, slamming my cup down. The still full fourth cup sloshed around and spilled slightly. Nadejda looked at me with sheer shock on her face; Anton looked terrified.
"What do you want of me?" I snarled. "What's this game you're playing? What are you aiming to achieve?"
"Sit down, Rose," hissed Anton. Nadejda simply looked at me, then at my empty teacup... and then back at me again. She picked up the teacup, and stared into it for a long period of time.
"Destined to achieve the impossible. That's very interesting."
7 reviews, you guys! Not bad :D
HOWEVER. This chapter was evil. So, let's try and boost that 7 up a tad, shall we? I won't update 'til you do :P
