Yvgenie by C.J. Cherryh

are no coincidences in magic. No great ones, at least. Chernevog's condition certainly isn't coincidence. Anything that's ever been associated is always associated. ’
    ‘ What are you saying, he's linked to her? Is— ’ The heart in him disturbed his o wn. —Is she fading? he wondered. Is that what's going on —that she's going back to—
    ‘ —rusalka-form? ’ Sasha caught up his thought. ‘ I don't I think that's it. I certainly hope not. Calm. Easy. We'll solve this. ’
    ‘ I'd like to know how!'' He was not sure now whose panic it was. He fought a s hiver, bit an already bitten spot on his lip. ‘ Sasha, she's not doing well. ’
    ‘ She's doing very well indeed. ’ Sasha's voice laid calm down like a blanket. ‘ She knows exactly what she's doing and she's asking us to keep the mouse from foolishness. It's what we knew could happen. I just never thought—never thought of Chernevog himself as an unsettled matter. But of course he was. It's the things you don't think about—and there may be a reason you're not thinking about them—that make a way to you. Silences can be the most dangerous spots. ’
    '' Something made us forget him? He made us forget him?''
    ‘ He was very strong; he was very—cheated of his life. His appearance in that place certainly isn't all that unreasonable. ’
    ‘ You think he's the cause? Or is something behind him?''
    ‘ I'm not sure, ’ Sasha said, and Eveshka's heart shuddered in him, wanting—
    ‘ Certainly it's not Eveshka at fault, ’ Sasha added in that same deathly hush. ‘ If anything, this business came at her first—not a hundred years ago: I mean now, maybe with the mouse's birth, maybe in something that happened when she was with her mother. ’
    Another shiver. Yes, he thought. And the shiver came through him, a twitch of his arms. ‘ It might have been.''
    ‘ She believes in magic as a thing with intent. She believes there's some—power behind the Yard-things and the Forest-things that doesn't like us, or at least, isn't like us. I don't think so, not—truly. I think it's something else, something far less alive, certainly less aware. Maybe she recognized some danger I didn't, maybe she sensed some gap in our defenses I didn't—I don't know. But I do think she's been fighting this back for longer than we know, without consciously knowing she was fighting anything specific, if you want my guess. ’
    ‘ This—what 'this?' ‘
    ‘ This slippage. This sliding into magic. I don't know whether she's fighting the danger or whether she is the dan ger. ’
    Cold silence lay next his heart. He could not tell whether it was agreement: he tried not to think about it. He leaned his chin on his hand and listened to Sasha saying:
    ‘ —If she did any one thing wrong, it was sealing herself off alone with the problem and not explaining—if it was actually awareness. If it was going on, I didn't feel it going on. Or I didn't feel what was going on. But maybe Ilyana did: she used to have a bad habit of eavesdropping; I suppose all children must, before they understand it's wrong—but if the mouse got too close to her mother, I understand now why 'Veshka would have shut her out. Ilyana wouldn't. Ilyana wouldn't have any way to understand it: Ilyana started fighting her, and Ilyana still doesn't understand. That's our greatest danger. Our mouseling's been hurt, very badly hurt, and she's so young— ’
    Fear and hurt. Pyetr studiously found the teacup of overwhelming interest, picked it up and took a sip. The tea was cold. ‘ What you're saying is th at 'Veshka's the chink in our armor. ’
    ‘ In many senses, yes. 'Veshka's standoffishness from her daughter—she sees it as protective, holding questions off till the mouse is old enough. I feel she's not chosen the best way—but 'Veshka—Honestly, 'Veshka can't feel at ease with the child; can't let go. Perhaps it's a limit she's decided for herself; but if it is—it's still real; and I can't answer the