The Bear and the Nightingale (Winternight Trilogy) by Katherine Arden

Author:Katherine Arden [Arden, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2017-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

AFTER SHE LEFT, KONSTANTIN paced to and fro. His shadow leaped before him, and the hand that had struck her burned. Fury closed his throat. She will be gone before the snow. Gone and long gone: my shame and my failure. But better than having her here.

The candle guttered where it stood before his icons, and the flame threw ragged shadows.

She will be gone. She must be gone.

The voice came from the earth, from the candlelight, from his own breast. It was soft and clear and shining. “Peace be with you,” it said. “Though I see you are troubled.”

Konstantin stopped dead. “Who is that?”

“—Wanting despite yourself, and hating where you love.” The voice sighed. “Oh, you are beautiful.”

“Who is speaking?” snapped Konstantin. “Do you mock me?”

“I do not mock,” came the ready reply. “I am a friend. A master. A savior.” The voice throbbed with compassion.

The priest spun, seeking. “Come out,” he said. He forced himself to stand still. “Show yourself.”

“What is this?” The voice held a hint now of anger. “Doubts, my servant? Don’t you know who I am?”

The room was bare, except for the bed and the icons, and the shadows collected in the corners. Konstantin stared into these, until his eyes smarted. There—what was that? A shadow that did not move with the firelight. No, that was just his own shadow, cast by the candle. There was no one outside, there was no one behind the door. Then who…?

Konstantin’s glance sought his icons. He looked deep into their strange solemn faces. His own face changed. “Father,” he whispered. “Lord. Angels. After all your silence, do you speak to me at last?” He shook in every limb. He strained all his senses, willing the voice to speak again.

“Can you doubt it, my child?” said the voice, gentle again. “You have always been my loyal servant.”

The priest began to weep, open-eyed, soundless. He fell to his knees.

“I have watched you long, Konstantin Nikonovich,” continued the voice. “You have labored bravely on my behalf. But now there is this girl who tempts and defies you.”

Konstantin clasped his hands together. “My shame,” he said feverishly. “I cannot save her alone. She is possessed; she is a she-devil. I pray that in your wisdom you will show her light.”

“She will learn many lessons,” replied the voice. “Many—many. Have no fear. I stand with you, and you will never again be alone. The world will fall to your feet, and know my wonders through your lips, because you have been loyal.”

It seemed that trumpets must play when that voice spoke. Konstantin shuddered with pleasure, the tears still falling. “Only never leave me, Lord,” he said. “I have always been faithful.” He clenched his fists so tightly his nails made furrows in the skin of his hands.

“Be faithful,” said the voice, “and I will never leave you.”

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