Heart of Iron by Ekaterina Sedia Page B

sprint. That night at the Crane Club I had been willing to let myself believe panic and darkness had deceived my eyes, but now, in somewhat weak but sufficient light of the afternoon, I had no excuse. He had not run, he had hurled himself… flew… jumped… he moved faster than was possible, faster than my eyes could follow him. I realized he had, indeed, fallen out of the sky that night.
    I looked around. Nevsky was not crowded, thanks to rain and chill in the air, but there were a few passersby and couples walking arm in arm, some clerks hurrying along on business, their long gray overcoats heavy with rain. No one seemed to have noticed Jack’s unusual behavior. There was no one I could appeal to for confirmation.
    “I see,” I said slowly. “Do you expect me to believe that?”
    He smiled wider, but humor was gone from his eyes. “You should,” he said, “if you know what is good for you.”
    I glared. “Are you threatening me now, Mr. Bartram?”
    He shook his head, rueful now. “Not at all. A warning, perhaps. A worry.” His gloved hand took mine and squeezed it, almost desperately. “Please believe me, Sasha. I would never do anything to let any misfortune befall you, but sometimes you really must look away.”
    He walked me to my dormitory in silence, and I spent a sleepless night, angry and elated and generally uncertain how to feel.
    Considering my restless night, it came as no surprise to find myself dozing through most of my classes the next morning, revived only by Dasha’s sharp jab to my side at the end of each lesson. I was ready to take my confidences to Dasha instead of Olga, in hopes she was slightly less obsessed with matrimony, but the fates interfered: when I came back to the dormitory that night, I found Anastasia in a nearly hysterical state, precipitated, as I discovered, by my aunt who was currently sitting in the living room, drinking tea, and scolding Anastasia for dust under the lampshade.
    “Aunt Genia!” I exclaimed and ran across the room to embrace her. “What a pleasant surprise!”
    She let me kiss her dry, papery cheek. “Good to see you too, Sasha. What is it you’re telling me — Nikolashka went and lost what little mind God blessed him with?”
    It was shocking to hear my aunt to refer to the prince by his nickname, like a gossiping peasant. Refreshing, too. Before I even took my hat and gloves off, I told her about Wong Jun, my own almost-arrest, and Jack’s interference. Oh, it was such a relief to pour my heart out to a sympathetic soul. She listened, not moving, until her tea went cold and Anastasia recovered enough of her wits to bring in supper and to inquire whether Eugenia was planning to stay with us or to go back to her St. Petersburg apartment.
    “I’ll stay there,” Eugenia said. “No need for me to crowd you here.”
    “It’s no trouble,” I said quickly. “There is a spare bedroom, it is not much, but it is tidy and I’m sure it will suffice until your apartment is ready.”
    “Thank you, niece,” Eugenia said. “I won’t be in the city for long — just a few days, to have some business taken care of. I’ll make sure to look into your friend’s whereabouts.” She wrote down Wong Jun’s name in her notepad with her small, exacting letters.
    Over supper, we talked about things at home. Eugenia complained the horses were getting expensive to feed since oats had grown poorly this year and prices were now sky-high. She spoke about buying some mechanical plows, since coal and peat seemed in less demand than oats. “And the machines are certainly better tempered. The horses are such fiends — give them one finger, they’ll take your whole arm. I kept them for your riding, but now that you’re gone… ”
    “I’ll be back,” I said quickly.
    “You don’t say.” Eugenia waited for Anastasia to clean the table and then excuse herself and go gossip with Natalia Sergeevna before asking more. “You think you’ll come back to Trubetskoye,