Words on Fire

Hundreds of years ago, the borders of Lithuania had been very different. Many of the countries around us now used to be one kingdom known as the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. But one bite at a time, chunks of our land were conquered or claimed by other countries, including Lithuania Minor to the west. That area had been absorbed into Prussia and was now controlled by the German Empire. The rest of our land was controlled by Russia, under the rule of Tsar Alexander III and whichever governor he’d installed lately to keep his thumb on us.

This was done through the enforcement of his Cossack soldiers who patrolled the land. Get in their way and the luckiest thing that might happen was a stiff beating. It only got worse from there. Just the week before, my mother had spoken of people from my village who had disappeared, their last known act being some small defiance of the Russian laws we all hated. Our priest had disappeared a year earlier for having preached his sermon in Lithuanian. Now both of my parents were gone as well.

Lukas had become silent again, and I was grateful for it. After a while, he reached into the satchel at his side and pulled out a handful of fried cheese curd cakes. My mouth immediately watered for them. I liked mine best when they were fresh out of the pan and served with a little jam, but they were delicious any way I could get them.

Lukas ate three before he turned around and held one out to me. “Want one?” I shook my head, but he only smiled and tossed it onto my lap. “Of course you do. They were made last night.”

I picked up the ball of cheese and popped it into my mouth, closing my eyes to savor the taste. When I’d finished, I asked, “Where did you get them? You don’t look like you have any money to buy them.”

“Not a ruble to my name, but it doesn’t matter. The cheese was a … gift.”

“A gift?” My eyes narrowed. The way he’d said it suggested it wasn’t a gift in the traditional meaning of the word.

Now Lukas was the one who preferred not to answer. He merely shrugged and turned forward again. But he didn’t need to say anything. He obviously didn’t trust me any more than I could trust him.

“Are you a thief?” I asked.

He glanced back and his smile returned. “Not exactly, though I’ll steal if necessary. But I’d think that of anyone, you’d understand.”

My spine stiffened. I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me … shouldn’t know me. I assumed he was thinking of my card trick and wondering if I used that skill for criminal activity. Which, of course, I never would.

Other than using it just now to make Lukas help me deliver my illegal package.

Lukas seemed to know the package was illegal, too, which meant he was making guesses about me that simply weren’t true. And if any of my guesses about him were correct, then I had to be on my guard.

As soon as this package was delivered to Milda’s home, I would get as far from Lukas and his dangerous life as I could, and as quickly as possible.

We entered the small and scattered village of Venska by dusk, and Lukas pointed out Milda’s home to me soon after. It was made of stone and seemed to be one of the larger homes in the area, although half of it had been converted into a sort of shop … or bakery … or something that sold things people might need, I wasn’t sure. The few windows were crowded with various goods—anything from bolts of fabric to tins of baking goods to farm tools. A sign in the window probably explained the place further, but my eyes only glossed over it.

“I assume you don’t know her,” Lukas said as he helped me off the donkey.

“I assume you do,” I countered. My legs had become so wobbly on the trip that, combined with my right ankle, I barely could walk.

“Milda’s a bit odd,” Lukas said. “But don’t think about it too much.” He grabbed my arm to pull me back. “And don’t stare. It makes her uncomfortable.”

“Don’t stare at what?” I asked.

“Well, she might be perfectly normal right now, but again, she might not. The Cossacks think she’s crooked in the head, so they leave her alone, which is just how she wants it.”

I was more comfortable alone. I’d spent most of my life alone. Even with my parents, there was always so much work to be done in running a home and chores on our farm, it was easy to find an excuse to be somewhere that people were not.

“Why does Milda want to be left alone?” I asked.

Lukas’s only answer was to flick his eyes down at the package in my arms, then give me a wink. I drew back, nervous. Did he know why my parents had been called criminals? Lukas had admitted that he would steal if necessary, so he probably knew other thieves and criminals. Maybe Milda was one of them.

If so, then why had my mother sent me here?

At her door, Lukas knocked twice, paused, then knocked twice again, much more slowly. Seconds later, the door creaked open, like it was heavier than the entire home. An elderly woman peered around the doorframe. She had tangled white hair beneath her head scarf and wrinkled skin that appeared crusty. She was heavily bent over with a hunched back, leaning on her cane for support, and she seemed to have exhausted herself simply by coming to the door. I sincerely wondered if she would live long enough to invite us inside.

Lukas clicked his tongue and, with a nod of his head in my direction, said, “This one seems all right. I think she’s Henri’s daughter.”

I turned so fast to look at him that I nearly lost my balance. He knew my father but had said nothing to me?

“Is that true?”

It took a moment to realize Milda was speaking to me. I said, “My name is Audra. Henri Zikaris is my—”

“Hush.” Milda frowned at me, then widened the door. “Better come inside.”