She heard Yakov and Fyodor murmuring behind them, and turned to see what was going on. She had decided to abandon hope because hope would only hurt more, but she couldn't help it.
Fyodor was showing Yakov and Koschey a jackdaw, and Sergey, still in the body of the white rook, looked on skeptically. Galina's heart squeezed in a painful spasm.
"No, Fyodor said quickly. It's not your sister, sorry. It's that guy, Vladimir-or rather his soul, see? It was in another one of those glass spheres, Oksana's rat stole it from Slava-so we jammed it into the jackdaw. Koschey said that he might be able to bring Sergey back, so I thought maybe he'd help Vladimir."
Vladimir the jackdaw gave a strained squawk. Are you really Koschey the Deathless? he asked Koschey.
"Really, Koschey said. And yes, I might be able to help you, only I would need a suitable body."
Yakov and Fyodor exchanged looks.
"What? Koschey said. I can't make something out of nothing. Soul-trading is one thing, but making bodies out of thin air is an entirely too metaphysical a proposition."
"But those birds Yakov started.
"Those people were turned into birds by a magic I don't have, Koschey said. I reversed it. But how do you suppose I could make a human body out of a glass sphere, or a stupid jackdaw? Haven't you idiots ever heard of conservation of mass?"
Yakov and Fyodor nodded, silent like guilty children.
"Let's take a look at what you've wrought with this jackdaw here then, said Koschey, and took the jackdaw from Fyodor's hands. Uh-huh-wait what is this?"
"What is what? Oksana said. Did we do something wrong?"
"You mean, besides ramming a glass sphere down an unsuspecting bird's beak? Koschey scoffed. Yes, actually you did. This bird-this is one of those cursed ones."
"Why didn't it turn back to human then? Yakov said.
"Because you stuck another soul into it, Koschey said. Fucking amateurs. He studied the jackdaw for some time, and finally turned to Galina. When he spoke, his voice was careful, calculated. Darling, he said. I have good news and bad news for you."
Galina swallowed with a dry throat, the sound of blood in her ears deafening. Through its roar, she barely discerned Koschey's words.
"The good news, he said, is that I think we've found your little sister."
Galina remembered the time Masha had run away from home. Unlike most children who come back around dinner time, Masha had kept walking; the police apprehended her ten miles away from their home, well beyond the circular highway that surrounded the city like a snake swallowing its own tail and gagging on its own noxious exhalations of gasoline and tar heated by the sun. When the policeman brought Masha home, her dress-pink roses on pale-yellow background-smelled of gas and exhaust, and she could not provide a cogent answer to the grownups questions-why? What were you trying to do?-and just stared past the worried faces of their mother and grandmother. And only when they left her alone and Galina asked her the same thing, she shrugged. I don't know. I just wanted to be away."
"Aren't you happy here, with us?"
"I am. Masha smiled, her usual sunny disposition returning. I just wanted to see where else could I be happy."
Where else indeed. Even her rebellion was good-natured, not a denial but an attempt to affirm more, to embrace more of the world. Galina envied that capacity for love-when she had run away as a child, she had come home before dinner, after wandering through the neighborhood streets and indulging in the fantasy of her mother's grief and remorse until she grew tired and hungry; past that point, her sullen indignation could not sustain her. Masha taught her that love and curiosity was a more enduring force.
She looked at the jackdaw sitting in Koschey's palm. What's going to happen? the jackdaw said. To me, I mean-Vladimir."
"We'll have to find you another vessel, Koschey answered. I fear that we only have some rats available."
Vladimir did not look thrilled. A rat?"
"Don't worry, Fyodor said. I'm sure we'll find you something more suitable underground. Maybe a rook, like Sergey."
"I don't want to go underground, Vladimir said.
"Neither do I, Sergey confirmed.
"Well, it doesn't look like you have a choice now, does it? Elena said. Unless you want to stay here-but you know what they say about white crows. Besides, underground there are no cats, except Bayun."
Galina heaved a sigh. What about my sister? she said. Does it mean she will stay a bird forever?"
Koschey shrugged. That's my bad news, dear. I can't turn her back, but I can transfer her soul into another woman's body-if you can find one, that is."
"You mean for her to live someone will have to die? she said. The idea did not seem monstrous to her-after all, just a few minutes ago she contemplated freezing to death. Petulance was not enough to compel her. But love?
"No, Koschey said. Not die, exactly. Just trade places with her, become a bird."
"Like these two? Galina pointed at Sergey and Vladimir.
"Not quite, Koschey said. They act human because their souls are separated from birds bodies, wrapped into glass. They are like hands inside puppets-they animate them, but they are not the same. Without the protection of glass, the human soul will become a bird's soul."
Galina nodded. I'll trade with her, she said. Gladly."
Elena shot her a worried look. Galina-do you think this is really a good idea?"
Galina smiled. This is the best idea I ever had. Just let me tell her something, while I can still talk."
Koschey grasped the bird and extracted the glass marble with Vladimir's soul from the bird's crop. Galina cringed at the unceremonious manhandling of her sister, and looked away. She only looked when the green glass sphere lay secure in Koschey's narrow palm, ridges of bone running parallel along it like barrel staves.
Galina cradled the jackdaw in her palms, carefully as if it were a fragile Christmas ornament. The jackdaw looked at her sideways, its head tilted, its expression roguish. Galina stepped outside.
"Listen, she said to the jackdaw, when you remember all this-and you must, you must-please don't feel bad. Sure, this body is older than your own, but this is the best I can do. Remember-you have a baby, and mom is your responsibility now. Don't tell her what happened. Just be yourself."
She looked at the naked trees, delicate and yet stark against the sky like a painting. She searched for words to explain to the carefully listening bird. She won't like you at first, but soon enough she'll realize that you aren't me. Just do what you always do. I wish I could make it easier, I wish you could come back to things like they used to be. You'll be a spinster aunt to your child, but it is better than not being there at all. And your husband will come back from the army and grieve for you, and you won't be able to tell him the truth, no matter how much it rips you up-just like that story, remember? No signs, no telling about the curse, or they'll lock you up and you won't like it. I leave you with my liabilities.
"But also, my advantages. You have a job-you'll just have to brush up on your English, and Velikanov will forgive you for missing work, and he'll cut you every break. Maybe you'll even like him.
"But most of all, remember this: I will try and visit you sometime. I don't know what it's like, being a jackdaw, I don't know if I would even remember, but if I can hold onto anything, I will hold onto this. And one thing I'm asking of you: remember that you had a sister once, a sister who loved you more than forty thousand brothers."
Galina swallowed and thought of something else to say. She wanted to talk about love and how strong it was, about how Masha ran away all these years ago and surely, if it was strong enough to take her away it was strong enough to bring her back. She wanted to tell her to be kind to their mother even though she wouldn't be kind in return-not at first at least, not while she still thought that the woman in Galina's body was Galina, the same damaged creature. But Masha knew all that already, and if anyone could win their mother over, it was her.