"I hope I didn't ruin it by letting it float on the water," said Mother.

"It was the flame that worried me," said Ivan.

"Sillies," said Katerina. "If it was made well, neither flame nor water could harm it. And if it was made badly, then it isn't a message of power and it hardly matters."

But all this talk about the message filled Ivan with other ideas. "Isn't there some way we can take things across the bridges, Mother?"

"I should know?" she asked.

Katerina shook her head.

"What if I swallowed something," said Ivan. "Then it would be inside me."

"Don't try it," said Mother. "The rules about such things can be very strict, and it might be dangerous to you if you had anything but food in your body. Any opening of your body."

"These are honest spells," said Katerina. "Made to counteract a deceiver. They work against a deceiver. You see? The Wicked Widow can't use the bridge because she's made of lies, filled with them, covered with them. You don't want to see what would happen if you tried to cross as a sneak or a liar."

Ivan chuckled. "Then we should provide a service, and give certificates to politicians who can cross the bridges."

The Ukrainian word for politician baffled Katerina, and neither Mother nor Ivan wanted to try to explain it.

"You can take only what's in your head," said Katerina. "And in your heart."

"What's in my head is nothing but confusion. And Russian literature."

It dawned on Mother and Ivan at the same time. "Why not learn what you need to know in order to make things there?" said Mother, and Ivan was already nodding.

"Learn what?" said Katerina.

"There are weapons," said Ivan. "Bombs. I think I already have a good idea how to make Molotov cocktails—if we distilled alcohol..."

"Oh, excellent," said Mother. "Introduce vodka to Russia centuries ahead of time."

"I can't very well use gasoline."

"What are you talking about?" said Katerina. "I don't know these words."

"Modern things," said Ivan. "Weapons. Whatever we can learn how to make here, so we can teach the people how to make them and use them there."

"What weapons?" said Katerina. "You don't have swords—I've seen no one carrying them—and as for magic, most people have no idea."

"Oh, Katerina, you haven't seen weapons till you've seen what our civilization produces. Weapons that could destroy the whole world—though of course no one uses those. And weapons of disease—but we can't use those, because it would kill far more innocent people and might not reach the enemy at all. We need more sharply aimed weapons, right, Mother? Iron technology isn't at a point where we can make cannon, I don't think, not in the ninth century. Though they did cast early guns in bronze. That's worth a thought. What is gunpowder? I remember it has something to do with saltpeter... that's nitrate of something, isn't it? What about dynamite?"

"You're asking me?" said Mother.

Ivan laughed. "Oh, I know where to find it out. There've got to be wacko places on the Internet. If the government sees what I'm doing, they'll assume I'm a terrorist."

"Everything depends on what's available back then. Katerina has to help you with that," said Mother. "She'll know what can and can't be made there in her own village."

Katerina nodded. She prided herself on having a clear understanding of the work of every man and woman in Taina. She might not be able to do all the jobs—smiths and plowmen needed more strength and bulk than she would ever have—but at least she knew what they could do, and what they needed in order to be able to do it.

"And transportation," said Ivan. "We can't make cars, but maybe we can—what, I don't know, improve the cart?" He laughed. "Faster carts, that'll strike terror into Baba Yaga's heart."

Mother brought her hand down hard on Ivan's head.

"Ouch! What!"

"You said her name."

"We're not in Taina now," said Ivan, rubbing his head.

"It gives her the power to push past the protections of the house," said Mother.

"She's on the other side of the world, Mother."

"No," said Mother. "She's here."

Katerina at once grew alarmed. "Here? In this city?"

"A few days ago. Someone probed at the house. I felt it—no, I smelled her. Foul. Like... never mind what it was like. I went to the window. I couldn't see her—she had a glamour around her—but I could see where she was. Just across the street. Watching."

"Why didn't you say anything?" said Ivan.

"Because the house was sufficient to stop her. She's weaker here. I think she was angry to find that she couldn't get through our defenses."

"She knows where we are," said Katerina. "Oh, God help us now."

"Amen," said Mother. "But it doesn't change anything. You still have to learn whatever's worth learning, and you still have to go back."

"But with her at our tail," said Ivan.

"I've been thinking about ways to send her home," said Mother.

Katerina shook her head vigorously. "Don't think of it," she said. "You're very talented, but weak as she might be, you're no match for her."

"I think I might be, here on my own ground," said Mother.

"Don't try it, I warn you," said Katerina. "The very act of confronting her, that's pride, don't you see? It gives her power over you, because she rules through pride. You need to stay meek. It's the protection of Christ. The meekness of the obedient followers of Jesus, that protects us from the she-wolf."

"I'm not a Christian," said Mother.

"But you have never acted in pride before, have you? Never challenged a rival, have you?"

"No," said Mother. "I've never needed to."

"You don't need to now, either," said Katerina. "You must believe me. I don't know as much as you about these things, but I know more than you about the Widow. If you face her, challenge her, she has you then."

Mother shuddered. "Well, then," she said. "Well, then."

"Don't tell me you were looking forward to it," said Ivan.

"No, no, no," said Mother. "The opposite. And I'm relieved to think I don't have to. And frightened to think how close I came to trying it when I faced her there through the glass of our window. I came this close."

There was a greater sense of urgency now. No more time for desultory talks with Father and Mother, for pleasant household chores with Katerina and Mother, for explorations of language with Katerina and Father. Now Ivan spent his days at the computer terminal in his bedroom, linked to the university computer system and through it to the rest of the Internet. He wrote thirty emails to various people he knew, and began to get answers: How gunpowder was made, how to make a match, where deposits of the necessary minerals were known to have been located in the Carpathian foothills, or how they could be extracted from plants or what substitutes might do almost as well. Constantly he quizzed Katerina about materials, though most of the discussion was always spent trying to find language to describe exactly what he was trying to find out about. Father even got into the fray, querying his own network of friends.

They didn't stray from the house, Ivan and Katerina. Mother and Father were safe enough, Mother decided—though she insisted that Father wear a charm, which just about killed him from shame; but he went along. Ivan and Katerina, though, walked only around the back yard—which was large enough at first, but seemed to grow smaller as they spent day after day unable to leave it. The only consolation for Ivan was this: If he had to be trapped on a desert island, at least he had Katerina for company.

Partly it was the project they were working on. As he made his first batch of gunpowder—which nearly blew his hand off—she began to gain new respect for him; but he also gained respect for her, as she insisted on learning how to do everything herself, as well. "What if one of us is killed?" she said. "Does she then win the victory?" And then she made him take her hands and guide her through the process of grinding the material to powder. He was terrified of killing her with a mistake, but she joked all through it, teased him about how protective he was. He was close to her hour after hour, the smell of her, the touch of her breath on the hairs of his arms or on his ears as she leaned over his shoulder to watch. He thought sometimes he might go insane with desire for her; but he could not think of a way to change what lay between them, and though he thought she liked him well enough now, he still didn't know if their friendship was yet the thing a marriage should be made of.