Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I by K. Panikian (essential reading txt) 📗

will try and capture them alive. We’ve all seen that movie. The supposed good guys start studying the monsters, experimenting, et cetera, and pretty soon you’ve got an end-of-the-world scenario with out-of-control hybrid beast armies.

“And third…” I stopped. “Actually, I don’t have a third. I think those two covered it.”

“Yeah, hard to top hybrid beast armies,” Owen agreed. He cocked his head, “I’m not trying to play Devil’s advocate here, but what if we fail? Then your nightmare scenarios come true anyway.”

“So, we don’t fail,” I said firmly.

“I kind of like the grenade idea,” Theo added. “I mean, not actual grenades, because I don’t think they would be powerful enough, but something similar we could blast them with from a distance.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We need to start concentrating on those journals. Irene fought these things for more than fifty years; there have to be ideas we can use.”

I turned to Theo, “And I still think it’s a good idea to meet with Zasha. You can find out if anything weird is happening at the crater.”

“Why don’t we split up,” Owen said. “You two go to the fair and talk to Zasha. You can swing by the lake too, and make sure the police aren’t flipping out over the bukavac blood in the snow. Julian and I will read the journals and get the pyre set up for the bonfire.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Julian asked as he walked into the kitchen, looking freshly showered. “Ooo, omelets. Do I get one?”

I let Theo and Owen update him on the plan and went back to the stove. When I served the omelet a few minutes later I gave Julian a pointed look. “Last one to the kitchen means you’re on clean-up duty.”

“You got it,” he answered and dug in.

“Julian and I will take care of dinner tonight too,” Owen added, “since you’ll be driving around all day.”

Theo and I blinked at Owen. Julian put his hands up in the air, palms out, and told him, “Sorry, man. You do not want my help in the kitchen. I’ll do clean-up again. I’ll clean up every night.”

I laughed and nudged Theo. “Remember that time he switched the cilantro and the parsley in the scampi and didn’t even notice? Or when he put the frozen pizza in the oven with the cardboard still underneath?”

Theo laughed too. “That was my first time using a fire extinguisher. It was a thrill.”

“And remember—” I stopped as Julian put his hand over my mouth.

AN hour later Theo and I were on our way back to Chelyabinsk.

“This still feels kind of frivolous,” Theo said. I was driving; the scenery whizzing past was starting become familiar. There went my favorite goat farm.

“She’s our best resource for the crater site during the daylight,” I said. “If the scientists are noting anything weird, compared to other impact sites, that’s good for us to know. Or if they’ve seen strange animal tracks.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Theo brightened.

The Chelyabinsk winter fair was in the park in the center of the city. We parked in a lot a few blocks away and joined the streams of people heading in that direction. Zasha said to meet her by the Maslenitsas scarecrows, the straw effigies that would be burned to say goodbye to winter and welcome spring.

There were giant ice sculptures right inside the park entrance. I ogled a huge bear, up on its hind legs, and then an ice palace, complete with onion domes; Theo liked the hockey player bent over his stick, his face frozen with determination. We followed along the different rows of tents, checking out crafts for sale and art on display.

I stopped us at one point and bought an exquisite little swan pendant for my mom. The seller beamed at me and wrapped it carefully in tissue paper.

There were people lined up in one area for what looked like tug-of-war and we paused at a stall for hot spiced cider to drink while we watched.

Finally, we found the display of Maslenitsas dolls. The dolls were a lot more elaborate than I expected, with little outfits and cheerful expressions painted on their faces. Zasha was waiting under the tent, her own hot drink in her hands.

“Hi guys,” she called and waved. We weaved our way over to her and she hugged me first and then Theo. Her eyes glowed when she stepped back again and seized Theo’s hand to give him a tea cake out of the bag in her hand. Theo popped it into his mouth, powdered sugar raining down his coat.

“Delicious,” he said, his voice muffled.

“I knew you would like it,” Zasha said with a big smile. “My mother’s recipe. She sent this bag for you. For you both,” she corrected herself.

I smiled at Theo. “You’ve got a little something on your chin,” I pointed out, helpfully. He brushed it off.

“Oh no, what happened to your cheek?” Zasha asked me.

“I tripped on the ice yesterday,” I told her. “Fell right on my face.”

She clucked her tongue sympathetically. “We will go find the blinis. Then you will forget your cheek is hurt.” I smiled and then followed her and Theo out of the tent. Theo snagged her hand to guide her around a knot of people and then held on. I smiled again.

We found the blinis next to the bandstand and I devoured mine with a dollop of sour cream and raspberry jam. I listened to the folk music group and tapped my foot, pretending that I was engrossed.

Theo took turns biting into his blini and asking Zasha questions about her work. She was done at the impact site and would be at the university for the next few weeks, studying the meteorites they’d found.

“You must be happy to be done digging in the snow,” Theo said.

“Yes, I am happy to be off the mountain altogether,” she answered. “It was very strange. Normally, I like best being in the field and working with my hands. But the last few days I worried—” she stopped herself.

“You