34. Bogdan

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Lingering in the shadows across the street, I watch Yaroslava and Mir talk. I can't hear them, they can't see me. There's not enough magic in the air, so I'm nothing but another shadow for them. For everyone in the world of the living.

I watch them get in the car and leave the morgue territory. This time, I follow. Quiet as death, smooth as the wind, swift as a flicker of lightning. I should probably be more careful not to approach Mir too close, even with his magic switched off, he can still sense my presence. I can't risk Yara finding out about me. She still believes I'm her friend.

I'm not that sure.

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Three years and six months ago

The last time I saw Vlad, we met by the river. It took some effort for me to wade through the forest alone, to the riverbank, to that particular curvy slope, where we used to come with Yara when we were kids. My wheelchair wasn't made for field trips. Still, I managed to arrive early. I just sat and watched the waters, splashing and rippling and shining under the sun. Despite the winter cold, the river was too fast, too untamed, not frozen.

"You wanted to see me." Vlad's voice echoed behind me. I didn't hear him coming, I'd never had. But I knew he would come. "Why?"

Because I'm exhausted.

I wasn't angry with Yara for lying to me anymore, I was just...tired. Tired of being alone. I'd spent hours awake at night after Yara had told me about her powers. Maybe she wasn't that guilty after all? Guilty of what, really? Of wanting to be more than people expected her to be? For knowing I wouldn't understand her? For escaping this sad little town?

I swallowed without turning to face Vlad. My heart thumped in my chest at the words I was about to say. "I want to be like you. I want magic."

There was a long pause before he answered.

"No."

The intensity in his voice shook me. I blinked, staring at the river gurgling down below. The depth underwater didn't scare me, but I was terrified of the slope. It reminded me of the cliff I fell from when I was small, the cliff that made me a cripple. Of my curse.

Not a curse, but a test of your patience and faith, my granny would have said.

Nervous, I turned my wheelchair around, only to find the same determined refusal written across Vlad's face. "No," he repeated. A stern dark figure standing between the white snowy trees.

"Why?"

Vlad hadn't changed since I last saw him, not much at least. His hair was still golden, caressed by the lazy sun, his back straight, a challenging glint in his eyes. As though he had nine lives and wasn't afraid of anything. "And why would I, Dan?"

I guessed I hadn't changed, too. My life definitely hadn't. And it was killing me. No purpose, no progress, no hope--that was what my life was like. An endless loop. "Because I'm asking. Yara asked, didn't she? And you didn't hesitate."

He took a step forward, snow squeaking under his boots. "You're right, I chose to give her magic. Because she needed it." Another step. "Do you remember when I first met you two? Yara had two bruises on her face while you had a fancy book in your hands. She was afraid, you were bored. She needed a weapon to fight, and you have no enemies still."

I shifted in my chair, uneasy under his hard gaze. "I thought we were friends."

"We are, Dan. We are, and that's why I'm saying no. Magic won't solve your problems."

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