twice what flavor icing I liked and I said lemon. There was to be a grand dinner that night, celebrating the countess’s friend’s visit, and three geese were to be served. Goose was Mamka’s favorite and there was bound to be some left over.
From the look in Mamka’s eyes she liked hearing my stories of the estate, of the ladies’ fine dresses and shoes—and of baby Max. I couldn’t tell Taras, though. He would only say those pigs kept all the animals in the forest for themselves and how much better off we’d be without them. Was that true? It was just by accident of birth that we didn’t have fine carriages and silk stockings, too.
I emerged from the forest onto the main dirt road, not far from the estate gates, and spied, nestled in the grass by the side of the road, something round and orange. I observed it for a moment, then picked it up and turned it in my fingers. It was an orange—a fruit I’d seen in Mamka’s encyclopedia. Things like that happened to me a lot, especially on happy days like that one. Four-leaf clovers. Unexpected presents. It was a gift from Papa, I knew. I tucked it into my dress pocket.
“Hello, Inka.”
I jumped at the sound of a voice behind me and turned. Taras and his friend Vladi. Taras was dressed in his hunting clothes, a sealskin vest and leather brodni, knee-length hunter’s boots, covered in tar. No wonder they nicknamed those boots “stalkers,” for they allowed hunters to silently follow their prey.
Vladi stood at his side, so much smaller, that terrible burn down his face shining in the sun.
“It isn’t polite to sneak up on a person,” I said.
I took a step backward and looked about. Where had they even come from? Taras had better trails than the deer, and certainly knew the woods as well. How many times had I watched Taras scanning the forest, head cocked sideways, reading animal tracks and looking for broken spiderwebs?
“Good to see you, Inka,” Vladi said, his shiny, red tongue flicking to the sides of his mouth. I tried not to stare at his burn.
“We’ve been looking for you,” Taras said.
“I need to get to the estate.”
“Too fancy now to say hello to Vladi? He has moved to Malinov.”
“Good for him.”
“He has the villagers on his side. Things are changing quickly, Inka. Very good for the cause. We have friends in high places in Petrograd now.”
“Good. Go there and stay.”
Vladi tossed a pebble into the woods. “The city is full of the news. A movement to take back what’s due us.”
“Each week brings a new movement.”
“This time we’ll win. You should see the crowds.”
“I must be going. I have the Streshnayvas—”
Taras grabbed my wrist, sending a jolt of fire up my arm. “You promised to tell me about them.”
“Don’t ruin this for me, Taras. I won’t spy for you.”
“I brought venison.”
“Cook gives us pheasant.” I pulled away and walked ahead. “I thought you were enlisting.”
Taras followed me. “The whole army is deserting.”
So, he hadn’t enlisted after all. Mamka had predicted it, saying he was only going to Petrograd to watch films at the cinema.
“The people are starving in Petrograd. Growing angrier by the day. Our time has come and you need to help.”
“The estate is boarded up tight,” I said. “You’ll never get in there.”
Taras came at me from behind, spun me to him, his hands gripping my throat. “How many manservants in the house?”
I tried to answer but his fingers choked off my air.
“I want you to leave the kitchen door unlocked tonight.”
“No,” I whispered.
“We’ll never be free with those parasites in charge.” He squeezed harder and the blood pounded in my head. “Tonight, leave the rear door unlocked and wave a white towel through the nursery window as a sign you’ve done it.”
A jolt of fear ran through me. How did he know the estate layout? He’d most likely been all over the grounds in his mysterious way. I grew dizzy, my air cut off, and nodded.
Vladi stepped to us. “Taras. Stop.”
Taras released me. “If you care about me, you’ll do it.”
I bent at the waist, sucking in air.
How could I care about a person like him? I rubbed my throat. Would Taras’s fingers leave bruises the countess would see? Would he hurt Sofya? Surely, he would not hurt the child.
I walked on. “Stay in the woods tonight, Taras,” I called over my shoulder. “Mamka can’t eat when you’re at home.”
I turned, but they