Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I went down to that dungeon looking for answers, and all I managed to do was unleash chaos and a thousand more questions.
Did the Beast get home and find… the others?
I shiver even though I’m finally warm in my new clothes. The old man misunderstands and lays an extra blanket around my shoulders, but I shake my head and stand up.
I feel remarkably strong for as weak as I was only hours ago, collapsing in the snow like that. I should be far more sore, too, considering how far I ran. I didn’t even stretch.
A month ago, after a few hours just standing on these legs of mine, not even walking, would have had my muscles in spasms all night.
Fresh tears come to my eyes. Unexpected tears of gratitude. To the Beast.
The past few years, I swore I would pay any price, do anything, if only—
You said that before you knew what the price was.
So what if I made a pact with the devil? I went in with my eyes open. Mostly open, anyway.
And then I ran away like a coward, the first chance I got.
“Thank you,” I say to the man, taking off the blanket from around my shoulders and handing it back to him. “I don’t even know your name.” I put my hand to my chest. “I’m Hannah.”
He smiles. “Hannah.”
“What’s your name?” At the confusion in his eyes, I repeat more slowly, “Name?” and gesture at him. I pat my chest and say, “Hannah,” then gesture back at him.
He smiles again with understanding. “Mikhail.”
“Well, thank you, Mikhail.” Recalling something I’d heard from movies, I try, “Spasibo.”
His eyes flare a little. With recognition? Or anger? Am I not in Russia after all?
But he just pats me on my back and spits out another torrent of words I can’t understand.
And then I start toward the front door. Which has him talking again, this time in alarm. This I get, not the actual words he’s saying, but the gist of it, He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to head out into the cold darkness, when there’s not a thing around for miles. Again he mentions politsiya.
I shake my head because I know something he doesn’t.
If the Beast isn’t already looking for me, he will be soon. He won’t let go of his consort so easily, I don’t imagine.
You run, I will chase.
Yes, he will be looking for me, and I don’t want him to find the kindly old Mikhail. While the Beast hasn’t been violent toward me, I still remember the stories of the missing hikers.
“No, Mikhail.” I put out a hand to stop him. “I’ll be fine.”
He tries to step in front of me, but I push him out of the way. If he tries to keep me here, I’ll get more than upset. I won’t hurt him, but I won’t be kept, either.
Luckily, though, he moves out of my way, his face bewildered.
Right before I get to the door, he shoves something toward me. I grab the heavy object, looking down to find a flashlight.
The next moment, he’s spun away and then returns with a knit hat and scarf. I’m so moved by his thoughtfulness, I have to fight back tears.
“Thank you,” I say in English, not wanting to try Russian again. And I mean it. Even if he won’t understand my words, I hope he’ll feel the earnest tone to them. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been a lifesaver today, and I’m so grateful for your kindness.”
I bend forward and hug the man’s small, wiry frame. And then I turn, yank open the door, and head out into the blisteringly cold night, my flashlight beam the only light in the dark.
I’m glad to get away from Mikhail’s small shack. I really don’t want Beast to find him.
But it’s also lonely as soon as the light of the shack is behind me.
The whipping wind is the only sound in the otherwise quiet night.
It’s so, so silent out here in the wintery-est winter I’ve ever seen in my whole life. And that’s saying something for a girl who grew up in Minnesota. But this snow is intense.
If it hadn’t melted some and then repacked itself, I wouldn’t have been able to run on it like I did today. And the fresh fall from today is so deep, each step I take lands me up to my calves. Mikhail gave me a pair of too-large boots, as well, that we used an extra pair of shoestrings to wrap around the ankles to hold them on my feet. They’re heavy but not impossible.
Well, they ought to be impossible to keep lifting after the day I’ve had, but I continue to have a miraculously endless well of strength.
Because of the beast.
Every single new feat of strength my body can do makes me giddy, confused, and grateful. Now I understand why people run marathons and climb mountains.