who haven't managed to 'escape' "—she used air quotes— "before their trial. The Varinskis have been hiring themselves out as mercenaries for a thousand years, committing horrible misdeeds, and they've never been convicted of a single crime." She leaned farther forward, enthusiasm for her subject warming her. "Can you imagine that? A thousand years."
"Incredible." He sat completely still, listening as if she were the most scintillating speaker in the world. "Why do you know so much about them?"
"I've done my research."
"What kind of research?"
"Every kind. At the library, online, I've done interviews." That wasn't all, but she suspected he wouldn't approve of the rest.
She was probably saying too much. But she never got to talk about this stuff. Not with anybody who hated the Varinskis like she did. Here was Rurik, his archaeological site blown sky-high, his life's work ruined—he would understand. "I've documented the Varinskis' history, their legend, and their crimes. Do you know the oldest Russian mention I could find is almost eight hundred years old, an illuminated manuscript that spoke of a treasure of great worth which the first Konstantine Varinski had given 'to the devil' to receive his supernatural abilities."
"What supernatural abilities would those be?" Rurik sounded polite, like someone who thought his leg was being pulled.
Tasya didn't blame him a bit. "I know—I can't believe the Varinskis got away with this bullshit, either. Supposedly, these guys are shape-shifters, and change into predators whenever they want to. The monks were afraid of them, and said this deal with the devil turned the Varinskis from humans into demons. Every Russian document I found after that said the same thing, and claimed that that is why they're such good trackers and why nobody can escape them. Is that not the best PR you've ever h eard?"
"Amazing." Rurik leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, his face just out of the light. "What do you think the truth is?"
"I discovered that Konstantine had paid somebody, some powerful man, probably a representative of the czar, a whole bunch of money to do as he wished without interference on the Ukrainian steppes. Once Konstantine received that permission, he proceeded to make quite a name for himself as a brutal warrior." She wouldn't talk about the stuff Konstantine had done, since Konstantine made Clo-vus seem mild by comparison. "He raised more brutal warriors, and they raised more, continuing the family tradition as men who hire themselves out as trackers and assassins, men who fight as mercenaries in any army. They don't marry, they go out and rape women, and if the women know what's good for them, they give over their babies. Supposedly, the Varinskis have only sons—"
"That is possible, since it's the male who determines the gender," Rurik interposed.
"Yes, but with these guys, I'd suspect they're leaving the girls out to die."
Rurik almost spoke, then returned to watchfulness. "All of the Varinskis are trained to be soldiers of breathtaking viciousness."
"So you don't believe the supernatural part?"
"Oh, please."
"You don't believe in the supernatural."
"No. I believe in what I can see and taste and touch." She didn't even believe in God. She'd lost that faith the same night she'd lost her parents. "I tracked down what I believe to be the piece of the Varinski family treasure—"
"The treasure Konstantine gave to the devil?" With Rurik's face in shadow, she could see only his eyes, and they were alive and watching. "Why doesn't the devil have it?"
"According to the Varinski myth, the devil divided the treasure into four parts and flung the pieces to the four winds."
Rurik shook his head. "He flung them to the four corners of the earth."
"That's right. You do know your stuff!" She gave him points for that one. "The devil flung the pieces to the four corners of the earth. The accounts disagreed about the treasure and what it was. Some said gold. Some said
"Incredible." He sat completely still, listening as if she were the most scintillating speaker in the world. "Why do you know so much about them?"
"I've done my research."
"What kind of research?"
"Every kind. At the library, online, I've done interviews." That wasn't all, but she suspected he wouldn't approve of the rest.
She was probably saying too much. But she never got to talk about this stuff. Not with anybody who hated the Varinskis like she did. Here was Rurik, his archaeological site blown sky-high, his life's work ruined—he would understand. "I've documented the Varinskis' history, their legend, and their crimes. Do you know the oldest Russian mention I could find is almost eight hundred years old, an illuminated manuscript that spoke of a treasure of great worth which the first Konstantine Varinski had given 'to the devil' to receive his supernatural abilities."
"What supernatural abilities would those be?" Rurik sounded polite, like someone who thought his leg was being pulled.
Tasya didn't blame him a bit. "I know—I can't believe the Varinskis got away with this bullshit, either. Supposedly, these guys are shape-shifters, and change into predators whenever they want to. The monks were afraid of them, and said this deal with the devil turned the Varinskis from humans into demons. Every Russian document I found after that said the same thing, and claimed that that is why they're such good trackers and why nobody can escape them. Is that not the best PR you've ever h eard?"
"Amazing." Rurik leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, his face just out of the light. "What do you think the truth is?"
"I discovered that Konstantine had paid somebody, some powerful man, probably a representative of the czar, a whole bunch of money to do as he wished without interference on the Ukrainian steppes. Once Konstantine received that permission, he proceeded to make quite a name for himself as a brutal warrior." She wouldn't talk about the stuff Konstantine had done, since Konstantine made Clo-vus seem mild by comparison. "He raised more brutal warriors, and they raised more, continuing the family tradition as men who hire themselves out as trackers and assassins, men who fight as mercenaries in any army. They don't marry, they go out and rape women, and if the women know what's good for them, they give over their babies. Supposedly, the Varinskis have only sons—"
"That is possible, since it's the male who determines the gender," Rurik interposed.
"Yes, but with these guys, I'd suspect they're leaving the girls out to die."
Rurik almost spoke, then returned to watchfulness. "All of the Varinskis are trained to be soldiers of breathtaking viciousness."
"So you don't believe the supernatural part?"
"Oh, please."
"You don't believe in the supernatural."
"No. I believe in what I can see and taste and touch." She didn't even believe in God. She'd lost that faith the same night she'd lost her parents. "I tracked down what I believe to be the piece of the Varinski family treasure—"
"The treasure Konstantine gave to the devil?" With Rurik's face in shadow, she could see only his eyes, and they were alive and watching. "Why doesn't the devil have it?"
"According to the Varinski myth, the devil divided the treasure into four parts and flung the pieces to the four winds."
Rurik shook his head. "He flung them to the four corners of the earth."
"That's right. You do know your stuff!" She gave him points for that one. "The devil flung the pieces to the four corners of the earth. The accounts disagreed about the treasure and what it was. Some said gold. Some said
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