Haunted by Joy Preble Page B

was as good a time as any to try things out. Although I have to say, I was pretty amazed that it worked.” A tiny smile plays on her lips. It fades quickly. “God, Ethan—I hurt Ben, and when I pulled myself together to try to heal him, he just pushed me away. Maybe I could have done something. Maybe I could have—”
    Heal. Something occurs to me. “Wait. In the pool, the first time, when Ben dived in. Do you remember what the rusalka said to you? I heard her speak too, you know. I don’t think Ben, Carter, or Tess heard. But I did, and you did too, didn’t you? What did she say, Anne? Do you remember?”
    “She said,” Anne begins slowly, “that only I could swim with the rusalkas. Which, let me say, is seriously creepy, because that means there are probably more of them, and personally, I think one’s enough. She also said that I had to go to the Death Crone—to Baba Yaga—for her to teach me. She told me that only then could I heal. But it doesn’t make sense. Heal from what? And what does Baba Yaga have to do with the rusalka? I mean, is there actually a connection? I—oh, wait a second. When I healed my cut and wanted to help Ben—do you think that’s what she meant? Did she know that she’d startle me so I’d hurt Ben and then try to fix what I did?”
    “I don’t know. It’s part of what we’ve got to solve. But it feels right. The magics Viktor taught us—they bent nature too. Only not like this. I can—or at least, I could—do certain basic tricks, as you know all too well. Protection spells. Magic that helped defend me. Basic wards and glamours and the like. Joining the Brotherhood gave me those powers.”
    “Plus the immortality.” Anne gives my hands a light squeeze, then let’s go and fingers her silver bracelet.
    “Well, that came only after Viktor created the spell that used Anastasia. But none of it was automatic. I had to perform spells or concentrate to will it to happen. It didn’t just—”
    “It didn’t just flow out of you.” Anne finishes the thought for me.
    “Exactly. So—if, theoretically, you gained your powers from me as a conduit to the Brotherhood’s magic, then why is your power different from mine? Why can you do things I never could? Why is it getting stronger even though the magic’s original purpose has been fulfilled?”
    “You’ve been thinking about all this, haven’t you? Be honest, Ethan. Why is it, really, that you’re back?”
    I knew that she’d ask eventually. Even so, as I walk to the leather sofa across the room and Anne follows, I fumble for an answer that makes sense.
    “A lot of reasons. The university established a fellowship in Alex’s name. It felt like a worthy thing to continue his work. I’ve studied informally for years. The folklore, the literature, the art—they’re what I grew up with, what I lived with. I speak Russian and English and passable Bulgarian and Czech. It seemed a good fit, a good next step—something a little more permanent after so much that hasn’t been.”
    “So what did you do? Take your SATs? Add in a few AP courses while you were in Europe?” Her brown eyes sparkle with laughter—and possibly a bit of gentle mockery—in the soft light of the desk lamp.
    I consider the proper response. “There are ways. You know that, Anne.”
    “Well, maybe for you. My college board scores aren’t exactly where they need to be, especially since I’ve been a little, um, distracted lately. I’ll be lucky to get into junior college next year, at the rate I’m going.”
    “This is taking us away from the point.”
    “Hey. You’re the one who brought it up. I was just clarifying. So that’s it? You came back to go to school. And what? You just decided to pop by the pool and see if I was around?” She rubs her hand over the bracelet again, and I notice the letters on the disc. B&A. Ben and Anne.
    What I tell her is the truth, but not all of it. All of it would be telling her how I feel about her. Can I?