Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) (46 page)

           
I looked over at GM—I realized it was likely that the last time she had seen these ornaments, that her daughter had still been alive.
 
I wondered how seeing the ornaments again made her feel, but I knew she didn't like discussing the past—especially not when it was painful.

           
So I said nothing about it.

           
But part of the past had come back today, and I felt I had a right to discuss that.

           
"So, that's who the letters were from," I said.
 
"Maksim.
 
He's why we're really here, isn't he?"

           
GM stopped working and gave me a despairing look.
 
I was surprised to see so much raw emotion in her face.

           
"Yes.
 
That's why I wanted to come here," GM said quietly.
 
But I also wanted to keep this from you.
 
You should not have met Maksim today."

           
"I honestly don't mind if you have a boyfriend, GM.
 
In fact, I think it's wonderful.
 
I was nice to see you looking so happy."

           
GM sighed heavily and threw up her hands.
 
"Grandmothers do not have boyfriends.
 
It's just not right."

           
"There's nothing wrong with it, GM," I said.
 
"Were you really going to marry him once?"

           
"Yes, we were engaged to be married," GM said simply.
 
"Until your grandfather appeared—out of nowhere, it seemed.
 
I fell in love with him so thoroughly that nothing else seemed to matter—and that included Maksim."

           
My grandfather, of course, had been one of the Sìdh, though GM had no knowledge of that.
 
I was not surprised that she had been blinded by him.
 
From what I had seen of the Sìdh, they were a pretty dazzling group.

           
"Is Maksim related to Irina back home?" I asked.
 
"It sounded like he said his last name was 'Neverov.'"

           
"Yes.
 
Maksim is Irina's grandfather."

           
"Is that what she meant when she said you tried to ruin her family?"

           
The words came out before I could stop them.
 
I realized too late that it was too personal a question to ask.
 
I waited for GM to erupt.

           
Instead, she just sighed again.

           
"That's the trouble with the past.
 
People's memories get colored and corrupted by later events—and the opinions of others.
 
I'm sure that's part of what Irina meant.
 
But there was nothing untoward about my relationship with Maksim—it was never inappropriate or scandalous.
 
Maksim was from a prominent family, and he had been betrothed at a young age to a girl from another prominent family—that girl was to become Irina's grandmother."

           
GM paused and drew herself up.
 
"Of course, we Rosts were more prominent than both of them.
 
But Maksim was never in love with the girl, and when he was old enough to know his own mind, he broke off their engagement.
 
That was before I even met him."

           
GM had grown a little heated during this speech, and she paused to draw breath.

           
"Maksim was a free man when I met him.
 
And he was a free man when we became engaged to be married, and if your grandfather hadn't appeared when he did—"

           
GM broke off suddenly and gave me an apologetic look.
 
"Your grandfather was a good man, and I loved him very much.
 
I don't want you to think I regret marrying him, because I don't.
 
Not for a moment.
 
But I loved Maksim once too."

           
She frowned.
 
"It is all so confusing.
 
Emotions can become a terrible tangle.
 
But the end of it is this:
 
I fell in love with your grandfather, I broke off my engagement with Maksim, and I married your grandfather instead.
 
Maksim eventually went back to Irina's grandmother and married her."

           
GM gave me a level look.
 
"I would not be surprised if Irina's grandmother remembered things differently, but I can assure you that I am telling you the truth.
 
I try always to keep my mind clear—to look at the facts unclouded by sentiment.
 
Everything about my relationship with Maksim has always been proper and correct."

           
GM put her hands on her hips and gave me a defiant stare.
 
Then, as she looked at me, a hint of worry, of fear, crept into her eyes.

           
"So, what do you think?" she asked.

           
"I think you should have dinner with Maksim," I replied.

Chapter 17.

GM did indeed go out to have dinner with Maksim.
 
And once she was gone, I walked back into town to retrieve my bicycle.
 
I had forgotten about it in all the excitement that was attendant on meeting Maksim.

           
On my way home, I stopped at the small grocery store that GM, the Leshi, and I had stopped at back in October—it was in the little row of shops near the house.
 
I bought a few things there, and then went home and cooked dinner.

           
After dinner I settled down in my room to wait for night.
 
I sat by the window, watching the sky darken and the stars emerge.
 
I would try Galina's house again after GM went to bed, and I would also go back to the Pure Woods to look for the Leshi.

           
And if I didn't find Galina or the Leshi, I might find someone else.
 
Vampires and other dark creatures were always more active at night, and since they were after me, I would prefer to meet anything that was stalking me far away from GM.
 
I didn't want anything to happen to her.

           
GM came home around eight o'clock.
 
I wanted to ask her if she knew where Galina was, but I was afraid to admit to her that I'd gone looking for Galina without her knowledge.
 
I had a feeling that she would disapprove.
 
I also didn't want GM to think I was keeping track of her and Maksim.
 
So I came down to sit with her for a little while, but I didn't ask too many questions.
 
We sat together and gazed at our newly decorated Christmas tree, and GM looked relaxed and happy.
 
I excused myself early and went back up to my room to wait till GM went to sleep.

           
GM surprised me by retiring early—for her—at around eleven.
 
I waited for about an hour to be sure she was asleep.
 
Then I slipped out of the house to go look for Galina and the Leshi.

           
The night was cold, but it was no colder than it would have been back in Elspeth's Grove, and I was perfectly comfortable bundled up as I was.

           
I rode through town and past the Mstislav mansion, which loomed pale and ghostly in the dark.
 
The floodlights that had lit up the house at night when I'd been in Krov back in October had been removed.
 
Krov as a whole was not well lit at night, and the general gloom only added to the air of unreality that surrounded the mansion.
 
Its outline was dim and indistinct—I had the strangest feeling that the house might waver and vanish right in front of me.
 
But I knew that the house was real enough—I had been inside its walls and had been trapped in its crypt.
 
I knew just how solid it was.

           
The darkness beyond the mansion was solid too.
 
I would have to cross the Wasteland to get to Galina's house, and I had nothing with which to light the way.

           
I stopped not far from the mansion, and tried to think of where I could get a light at this time of night.

           
I knew that all the shops were closed.
 
Krov was not the kind of place that had twenty-four hour stores.
 
I figured that I could go back to the house, but I wasn't entirely sure if we had anything I could use there either.
 
GM had brought flashlights on our first trip in October, but I was pretty sure she hadn't brought them with us this time around.
 
The circumstances of the two trips were very different—the first trip had been panicked, this trip was supposed to be a vacation.
 
And GM's idea of a vacation most definitely did not include wandering around a forest at night with a flashlight.

           
I glanced back at the Mstislav mansion.
 
Timofei Mstislav's body had recently been stolen from its crypt, and I knew from personal experience that the crypt locked rather solidly.
 
Whoever had broken in must have done a lot of damage, and if someone was still maintaining the mansion, then the crypt might be under repair.
 
Maybe there would be something lying around that I could use as a light.

           
I did not like the idea of going anywhere near that crypt in the dark, but it seemed like my best option, and the night would certainly not get any easier as it went along.
 
I figured I might as well give the crypt a try.

           
I rode up the tree-lined drive to the mansion, and then followed the drive around to the back.
 
My memories of the night Odette had led me into the crypt were a little hazy, but I definitely remembered that she had brought me out of a back entrance to get to the crypt.

           
I left the bike leaning against the mansion itself, and I squinted into the vast lawn that stretched behind it.
 
There were no lights on at the mansion, but there was a little moonlight, and the whiteness of the sprawling building seemed to reflect what little light there was.
 
I could make out several large shapes out on the back lawn.

           
I knew that none of those shapes could be the crypt—the crypt entrance was actually in the ground like a cellar door.
 
But if the crypt were being repaired, the shapes might belong to the workers—I might find what I needed within them.

           
I crept forward slowly, lest I stumble into the crypt entrance in the dark.
 
It occurred to me that if the crypt were being worked on, it might have been left open.

           
And a fall down the stairs could definitely break my neck.

           
I walked up to the smallest and closest of the shapes.
 
Then I took off my gloves and ran my hands along it—it turned out to be a wooden shed.
 
I tried the door, but it was firmly locked.

           
I crept toward the next shape until I could touch it—it was another shed, and it was locked too.
 
I crept forward again, and my feet struck something smooth and solid.
 
I crouched down to run my fingers over it—it was a door, lying on its side.
 
I felt a stab of fear run through me as I realized that I had found the crypt—it was indeed open as I had feared.
 
I jumped back quickly.

           
As I did so, I stumbled over something solid on the ground and fell on the hard earth.
 
I felt around for what I had tripped over, and my fingers closed around a handle.
 
I was holding a tool that looked something like a pickax.
 
Someone was clearly working to repair the crypt and had left a few things lying around—since the sheds were locked, I would have to go down into the crypt to see if I could find what I needed.

           
I got to my feet, and I found that I was shaking.
 
I forced myself forward until I could feel the crypt door again, and using the door as a guide, I crept along until my hands reached out and touched only open air.

           
Unpleasant as it was, I had found the entrance to the crypt.

           
Before plunging into it, I searched around in front of the entrance, and I found a wheelbarrow, a large stack of square stone blocks, and a big heap of rubble.
 
I also found a table that was laden with tools.

           
I felt a rush of excitement as my fingers closed around the barrel of a flashlight, but I pushed in the switch and the light failed to come on.
 
I tried it several times, but the batteries were clearly dead.
 
My heart sank.