Agafia shook her head. “I need to be here. Only I can fight against this.”
“Then I guess we all stay. I can’t send those two out alone. Who knows what’s out there? At least we know what we have to deal with in this house.” She glanced up at the ceiling, but Agafia knew she was thinking of the attic.
And Gregory.
They were both silent for a moment, looking at each other.
Agafia smiled, tried to be reassuring. “Don’t worry. I can handle him,” she promised.
But she wasn’t sure of that.
She wasn’t sure at all.
Julia removed all of the knives from the kitchen, saving one for herself. Agafia helped her look through the other cupboards and closets, trying to weed out things that could be used as weapons, attempting to make the house attack-proof. Everything they found, Julia took outside, tossed into the weeds at the side of the drive.
“That should help,” she said.
None of them went outdoors after that.
The day was strange. It was only a blackout, but it felt as though they’d been hit by a hurricane or a tornado and were between storms, waiting for the next one to hit. It was like being under siege.
The radio had been on the entire time, and the batteries finally gave out around dusk. There were a few other batteries, but Julia wanted to save them for her flashlight, and Agafia agreed that was a good idea. It was quiet without the radio, though. Too quiet. Even Gregory in the attic was silent, and Julia broke out a deck of cards and played War with Adam and Teo in the kitchen, getting up periodically to check on Sasha.
None of this would have happened, Agafia thought, if she had made sure to get them out before leaving yesterday, if she’d just taken them with her to Semyon’s. But that game could be played forever. None of it would have happened if they had returned to California a month ago, if one of them had remembered to invite Jedushka Di Muvedushka to come with them, if they’d never moved back to McGuane, if Gregory had never won the lottery…
She fell asleep after a makeshift dinner, on the couch again, and when she woke up, only Julia was in the room. The single candle that was still burning was low, and the room was bathed in shadows that did not all appear to be natural.
“Where are Adam and Teodosia?” she whispered.
Julia looked over at her. “In their rooms. Sleeping.”
“Why aren’t they sleeping in here?” She was instantly filled with dread—and anger at what she saw as her daughter-in-law’s stupidity.
“Because the bedrooms have locks.”
“You let Adam go upstairs—?”
“I’ve been up there myself half the time. With Sasha.”
“You should have put him in my room.”
Julia blinked, stared at her blankly. She obviously hadn’t thought of that, and Agafia again wondered how much influence this place was exerting on them, how much their thought processes were being affected just by remaining in this house.
There was a movement of shadow in the far corner that did not correspond to the flickers of the candle. Agafia picked up the flashlight, quickly shone it in that corner, and was gratified to see nothing there.
She turned the flashlight off. Her head hurt, and she was dimly aware that she’d had a dream, some sort of nightmare about the banya.
The banya.
Something clicked in her mind, a connection that had not been made before, and while it was not something she could explain, not something that was specifically spelled out, she suddenly realized that the banya was just as central to what was happening as the house was, and she thought that maybe it was the doorway through which—what did Adam say the Indians called them? uninvited guests?—were coming, and that perhaps the tide could be stemmed there.
Why hadn’t she figured that out earlier? How could she have been so blind?
She pushed herself up and off the couch, grabbed her Bible from the table.
“What are you doing?” Julia asked her.
They’d been speaking only Russian for most of the day, not wanting the children to understand what they were talking about, and they were still speaking it now even though they were alone.
Agafia picked up one of the unlit candles, placed its wick next to the burning flame of the candle on the table. “I am going to the banya.”
The statement sounded frightening even to herself. It was too dramatic, too self-important, but she felt dramatic, this seemed important, and there was an urgency about it, a powerful impetus to do this right now, this second, a sense that there was no time to waste and that if she did not hurry, whatever window of opportunity was open to her would be closed.
Something had been trying to communicate with her for quite a while—
God?
—and she did not know why she had not paid more attention to her dreams, why she had… not exactly ignored them, but not acted upon them, not pursued the truths they were trying to reveal.
She hurried over to the closet in the entryway, placed her candle and Bible on the table next to the door, and took out her jacket, putting it on. Julia was following her, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do, and Agafia turned to her. “Keep your knife close,” she said. “I will be back as soon as I can.”
Julia seemed about to say something, but instead she just nodded.
“Get Adam downstairs. Put him in my room. When I get back, we’ll try to bring Sasha down.” She picked up her Bible and candle, said a quick prayer of protection, blessed Julia, the kids, the house, then hurried outside without waiting for a response. The sense of urgency was now almost overwhelming, and the feeling within her was something like panic. She could not run, because she did not want to put out the candle, but she walked as quickly as she could toward the back of the property, past the cottonwood, toward the banya. The thought occurred to her that she should have brought the flashlight instead of the candle, but she figured that Julia and the kids needed it more than she did.
Should she have brought any of them with her?
No. Julia was right. At least they knew what was in the house. Out here…
Who knew what she would find?
The ground was getting rough, the candlelight was not particularly effective, and she was forced to slow down so that she wouldn’t trip. From somewhere far away, she thought she heard the sound of wind.
Uninvited guests.
She had focused before on the word “uninvited,” but it was “guests” that grabbed her attention now. For that was what they were. Not indigenous spirits or beings that lived here, but neh chizni doohc that had arrived from elsewhere. Visitors.
Why had they come, though? What did they want? Agafia traveled quickly, working on instinct or being led by God, she was not sure which. She could not really see the path, but she was following it, and just as she emerged from the boulders, the moon appeared above the high cliffs to the east, bathing the scene in front of her with light.
And she saw Jedushka Di Muvedushka.
Laughing, the small figure sped out of the banya, took off up the hillside, clambering over rocks, cavorting playfully in the moonlight. Did he see her? She didn’t think so, and that made his exuberant little dance all the more eerie.
There was a rustle off to her left, and Agafia whirled so fast in that direction that her candle went out. Her heart was pounding and she was prepared to see shadows with teeth or snake-skinned demons, but instead she saw a line of people, several of them carrying flashlights.
Molokans.