"I'll be gone soon enough," said Sergei. "I only brought these for Ivan." He held out the wool robe and linen tunic Ivan had been wearing.
"But that's your robe," Ivan said.
"I'm not naked."
"Trade me, at least," said Ivan. "Your own proper robe for you, and I'll wear the one that Father Lukas burned holes in today." He pulled the tunic on over his head. The cloth snagged on the rough and broken skin of his chest and thighs, and his wounds stung as the linen brushed them. But it was good to be dressed again. "Thank you, Sergei," he said.
In the meantime, Sergei had doffed Father Lukas's castoff clothing, and Ivan pulled it on. It smelled of smoke. Burnt wool - a nasty odor. Wool and fire and something else, too. Horsehair. Was there horsehair woven into the robe?
No, of course not. Father Lukas wears a hair shirt. The private penance of those who feared they were not humble enough. Ivan rather liked the fact that at least Father Lukas knew his own primary sin and was trying to deal with it.
Sergei wriggled inside his own clothes, clearly pleased to have them back.
The comedy was over. Everybody was going to be back where they belonged. Ivan had no idea what he would tell people back in America about this. Or even what he'd tell Cousin Marek. I went for a run in the woods, and I got lost for a few weeks, and here I am...
A few weeks? Eleven hundred years had passed while Katerina lay on that pedestal, and yet it had taken only a few months in Taina. If that proportion held true, even the weeks he had spent here could be a century or more. His family might be gone, the world might be so changed that he'd be unable to function in it...
Get a grip. Don't borrow trouble. The pedestal is one thing, a magic place. The rules of time might be identical, or time might flow in unpredictable ways. There was nothing he could do about it.
Katerina took him by the hand. At once he could see the bridge to the pedestal - her bridge. She led him across. Sergei stood, watching them, mesmerized.
"How do you do it?" he said. "Walking through the air?"
"There's a bridge," said Ivan. "But only Katerina can see it. Katerina and whomever she holds by the hand."
"Where will you go?" asked Sergei.
"Home," said Ivan. "I'll go home, and Katerina will return to you, and - "
"I'll do no such thing," she said.
They reached the pedestal. She did not let go of his hand.
"What do you mean?" asked Ivan.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
"You can't do that."
"Why can't I? Hold my hand and lead me across your bridge."
"But your people need you."
"If I stay, then I'm a bride abandoned by her husband with the marriage unconsummated. The Pretender will be down our throats in a few days. But if I go with you, then I'm a bride off on a journey with her new husband. Let the old hag wonder whether or when the marriage becomes complete."
"I can't hear you!" Sergei called. "Are you talking about leaving us, princess?"
"I'm traveling with my husband, to visit his parents," said Katerina.
"What will I tell the others?"
"Tell them that. It's no secret. Tell everyone."
"What about this place? Can I show them this place?"
"No," said Katerina. "Tell them it's enchanted and you can't find it again without me to guide you."
"But I could find it quite easily," he said.
"I have no doubt you could," said Katerina. "But if you tell them it's enchanted, they'll believe you and won't press you to say more."
"You mean... lie?"
Katerina burst out laughing. So did Ivan. Sergei smiled shyly. They had liked his joke.
"You've been a good friend to me," said Ivan.
"And you to me," said Sergei. "But what will happen to the parchments? Where did you hide them, princess?"
"In my room. In the rag chest, where no man would touch it."
Sergei didn't like thinking about what women used those rags for.
"But as soon as you can," Katerina said, "you must get them and bring them here. To this enchanted place."
Sergei winced at the thought of actually rummaging through her intimate things. But there was a hopeful meaning to the assignment as well.
"So you will come back. Won't you?" Sergei asked.
"Yes," said Katerina. "If I can."
"And you, Ivan?"
"What for?" asked Ivan. "I'm no good at living here."
Sergei couldn't argue with him. Neither could Katerina.