Perhaps that's how the great ones are chosen, she thought. No outward sign of genius. Vanya was clever enough in school, an apt scholar, a good athlete. But no one would have picked him as the one to stand against a terrible enemy. No one would have expected him to be a hero.

Even now, Esther could see that neither Vanya nor Katerina expected him to be the one to stand against the witch. He was going to help train the knights and villagers with new weapons, but it was Katerina who was princess, Katerina who was bound around with the enchantments her aunts had created for her. And they might be right. It might be Katerina who faced the witch and beat her, perhaps in battle, perhaps simply by surviving and having babies. Endurance, after all, was a kind of victory; a kind of heroism, too.

And that would be good enough for Esther, too. Let them live. Let them love each other. Let them have babies that grow to adulthood, not just one but many of them. Even if they live in another time, another world, where I never see them, where I'm only a story to them, a name without a face, so be it, if my son and his bride can live. That is joy—joy in the midst of grief, perhaps, and loneliness, but joy and triumph all the same.

Katerina came to her in the night. She was restless—worrying about seeing Ruthie again, she said. But that wasn't all, Esther knew. And sure enough, Katerina soon led her down to the shelf in the garage where she had put the basin in which the still water had shown her Vanya's face.

"A black bowl?" asked Katerina.

"It showed me Vanya when he was with you," said Esther.

"I've heard of it, but never seen it."

"You can only look at one you love deeply," said Esther. "It isn't always satisfying."

"There's more to it than that," said Katerina. "If it's large enough, a black pool, you can see a place and then leap into the water and go there. I think that's how the Widow followed us."

"Then let me say that all my dear old Baba Tila taught me was to look."

"Let's look, then," said Katerina. "My father. Who knows how many days or months have passed for him? Time does not flow the same there as it does here."

So they got out the basin and filled it, set it out in the yard, leveled it, and waited together on this hot still summer evening for it to become truly still. To do it, they had to charm away the mosquitoes, but Katerina was deft at it, making the hand motions with a style and confidence that Esther had never thought of, having been taught by an old woman with shaking hands. At last, well after midnight, the water was still.

"May I see what you see?" asked Esther. It was a presumption, but Katerina smiled and nodded.

Silently they approached the basin, standing on opposite sides of it, their clothing tucked back behind them so that no bit of cloth, no thread, not even a strand of hair could fall onto the water. Katerina lowered her face over the water first, scarcely breathing; Esther then leaned over, remaining always higher than Katerina and therefore farther from the water, so it would be Katerina's will that controlled the vision.

It took only moments, and the face of a middle-aged man appeared. No doubt King Matfei, asleep, looking peaceful. But then, to Esther's surprise, Katerina made some unfamiliar movements with her hands above the water, and the vision zoomed back to show the whole scene around her father. He was lying on a bed, yes, and he was asleep; but he was also bound hand and foot, and two knights stood guard in the room.

Katerina made the vision zoom in so that it showed only her father's face. Then, placing her hand near her mouth to stop the breath of speech from stirring the waters, Katerina said his name softly. Once. Twice. A third time.

His eyes opened.

"Do not speak," said Katerina. "Do not wake the guards. Look upward to tell me yes. Look downward to tell me no. Are you a prisoner, as it seems?"

His eyes rolled upward.

"Soldiers of the Widow?"

A downward look. No.

"Another enemy?"

No.

"Our own people?"

Hesitation. Then a yes.

"Oh, Father. Dimitri? Because Ivan and I fled?"

Yes.

"She has done it, Father, you know that. Dimitri was a true man—he must have been deceived."

No response at all.

"You're right, it doesn't matter why. A man can't be deceived unless he wants to believe the lie. But Father, we are coming home. Soon. We've learned things. I've seen marvels—but now is not the time. Be content that we will return, and Dimitri will be taken out of his place and you will be restored to the throne."

No.

"No? Why not?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I know, you can't tell me why. But you are the king. You must be king."

No. No.

"Then who, Father? Dimitri?"

No.

"Ivan?"

Yes.

"Ivan isn't ready."

Yes.

"Neither am I, to rule through him."

Yes. No. Yes. Her statement had been ambiguous, and so he couldn't answer clearly.

"You think I am ready?"

Yes. There it was.

"When we come back we'll discuss it. After you're free. But you are our war leader."

No. No. No. And a tear came to one eye.

"You can't lead us in war?"

No. Yes. No. Again, the question could not be answered as she asked it. If he agreed, should he say, Yes, your statement is true, or No, I can't lead in war?

"Have you been injured, Father?"

Yes.

"A physical injury?"

Yes.

"He hurt you?"

Yes.

"I'll kill him," said Katerina simply.

Yes.

"Your arms? Your legs?"

No. And no.

"How can I know your injury?"

He opened his mouth.

It took a moment to realize what they were not seeing. He had no tongue.

Katerina gasped, stepped back, began to sob quietly into her hands. Esther also backed away from the basin and carefully walked around it, then enfolded her daughter-in-law in her arms. "She couldn't kill him, she couldn't even get Dimitri to kill him," whispered Katerina. "But she made it impossible for him to lead in battle. She made it impossible for him to be king."

"It wasn't a wound," said Esther. "Did you see that? It was Molchaniye. Stillness. She gave the traitor—Dimitri, yes?—she gave him the potion to carry the spell inside your father's body. The most powerful I've seen, to shrink the tongue like that. But it must be maintained by the power of the witch who invokes it."

"Is this comfort to me?" asked Katerina. "The Widow will never release him from it."

"No, she won't. As long as she lives."

"She will long be alive after my father and I have rotted away in our graves. She's already more than a hundred years old, and her magic has the power to give her many centuries more."

"But in my time she has long been dead," said Esther. "No one knows how, but she was destroyed or she weakened and died, one or the other, but there was no trace of her until she followed you here."

"I refuse to believe in false hopes," said Katerina. "Even if you came back with us, no one could stand against her and break her power."

"She can be killed," said Esther.

"How?"

"I don't know how. But Baba Tila said that no protection is perfect. There's always a way through."

Katerina raised her head and looked Esther in the eye. "Then there's a way through the protections on this house, yes?"

"Of course. I don't know what it is, but that's why I'm so vigilant."

Katerina pulled away from her, returned to her father.

"Ivan's mother is a witch," she said. "A good one. Not as strong as the Widow, but strong enough to withstand her here."

Matfei looked alarmed.

"Yes, she's here. That's why her armies haven't followed up on Taina's weakness, with you imprisoned and silenced as you are. Father, be patient. I will come back. You will be freed. And we will get this curse taken from you."