The Soul Stealer

7

Bob was tending the fire when they returned, an anxious look plastered across his face. He jumped up when he saw Annja and Gregor come out of the darkness.

“Thank God! I was worried sick when I woke up and found you both gone.” He tossed another stick into the fire. “I thought perhaps my snoring had driven you away, Annja.”

She smiled. “No harm done. Although it’s great to see your volume has increased since we last met.”

Bob shrugged. “Can’t figure it out. It’s not like I’m carrying extra pounds or anything. And no matter how I sleep, I always carry on like that.”

Gregor knelt in front of the fire. “I need to sleep,” he said.

Bob looked at him. “You should have woken me sooner. I would have gladly taken your place.”

Gregor looked up. “We might be dead if you had.”

Bob’s face grew pale. “What?”

Annja shrugged. “Gregor says there was something lurking in the darkness tonight. Something…that was hunting.”

Bob looked at Gregor. “You’re kidding?”

“No.”

Bob glanced at Annja. “You saw it, too?”

Annja shrugged. “I’m not sure what I saw. At least not yet. It was too far to see and too dark to get any detail.”

“But you saw something,” Bob said.

“Yes.”

He leaned back on his haunches. “I think we should get out of here as soon as possible.”

Gregor cleared his throat. “At dawn. We will ride on. I think Annja is suitably mended enough to ride with us to Yakutsk.” He crawled into the lean-to and within seconds, no more sound came from it.

Bob sat down on the log. Annja sat next to him. “Sorry we gave you a scare there,” she said.

Bob grinned. “I thought maybe you and Gregor…you know—”

“What?” Annja said, shocked.

“You and him…” Bob shrugged. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility. You’re a beautiful woman. He’s a good-looking guy.”

Annja almost laughed. “You thought we hooked up?”

“Well, sure. I mean, the thought did pass through my mind.”

“I woke up and saw he’d vanished. I went looking for him. He snuck up behind me and took me down, trying to keep me from alerting whatever it was to our presence. That’s all.”

Bob nodded. “He seems concerned.”

“I think so, yes.”

“He’s never steered me wrong as long as I’ve known him. If he says we should be concerned, I suppose we should be, then.”

“What if it puts your exploration in jeopardy?” Annja asked.

He grinned. “There was a time I might have thought there was nothing more important than achieving the glory of a new find over everything else. Those days are long behind me. I value my life and the lives of those I’m close to. If it looks like we’re in danger, we’ll head for Magadan and get the hell home.”

Annja nodded. “I think I should get some more sleep, too. You okay here?”

“Yeah,” Bob said.

Annja crawled back into the lean-to and burrowed under the bed of boughs and her blanket. She glanced once at Gregor, but he was already seemingly asleep. He breathed deeply, but made absolutely no noise.

Me and Gregor? Annja grinned. He was okay-looking, but she wasn’t sure she could ever picture herself with a guy who could so easily sneak up behind her and catch her completely by surprise.

As she settled down and closed her eyes, she smiled once more.

Then again, who knew how things would turn out?

G REGOR NUDGED Annja awake just as the first tendrils of dawn crept over the horizon. Annja blinked her eyes a few times and then crawled out of the lean-to.

“Good morning.” Bob handed her a cup of coffee and Annja drank it down, feeling the hot liquid warm her insides. Gregor accepted a cup, as well, and seemed to gulp it down.

Annja looked around the campsite. “You’ve been busy.”

Most of the lean-to had been dismantled except for the portion covering the sleeping area. The fire had also been doused and the ashes scattered across the blanket of snow.

“Well, Gregor was kind enough to make it. I figured the least I could do was break it down.”

“We can go now,” Gregor said. “That is good.”

Bob tore down the remaining bit of structure of the lean-to and threw the branches into the woods. Gregor got his bike and started pushing it up the hill, back toward the road.

Annja felt stronger and her head was clear. She got her bike and pushed it up the hill, feeling the strain in her legs as she did so. But it felt good to be exerting herself again.

They crested the mountain and got back onto the pockmarked road. Bob turned to Annja with a grin. “How about I bring up the rear this time? That way, if any more trucks come looking for someone to smoosh, they can have me.”

“Wise guy,” Annja remarked.

He smiled. “Just thought I’d offer.”

Gregor slid onto his bike. “I will go ahead. Make sure the road is clear.”

He pedaled off and Annja got on her own bike. “He’s very serious this morning.”

Bob nodded. “He was awake before you.”

“Big surprise.”

“We talked about last night. Gregor is of the belief that we will find trouble in Yakutsk. He is worried about you.”

“I can watch after myself, thanks,” Annja said with a smile. “Any head wounds notwithstanding.”

“Oh, sure,” Bob said. “We should get going. If Gregor’s concerned, he’ll pedal like the devil himself was after him.”

Annja pushed off and found the going much easier. For several hours the road wound its way farther up the mountain, but then started to descend at a gradual pace.

About a half mile ahead, she could see Gregor working his way down the road. Nothing seemed to faze him. His legs worked easily and he kept glancing around the sides of the road.

Annja looked behind her and saw Bob just about to start the descent. He waved once and then leaned forward, anticipating that rush of downhill speed that all cyclists enjoy once they’ve finished a hard climb.

The descent took the better part of an hour, but at the end, the road evened out. They were in a heavily forested area, with tall pines and scraggly birch trunks dotting the landscape. Giant boulders thrown up from the depths of the earth bordered the road as they pedaled on. But Annja saw little to denote civilization.

Bob rode up next to her. “This part of the country is remote. Even though we’re still reasonably close to Magadan, it’s like another planet out here. Weird, huh?”

“It doesn’t feel cozy—that’s for sure,” Annja said.

“And those woods seem anything but friendly. Even the trees seem to be leaning in on us.”

“It is kind of claustrophobic, isn’t it?” Bob asked.

“Just a bit.”

“Gregor’s stopped his bike.”

Annja looked ahead. Sure enough, a quarter of a mile away, Gregor had stopped. They rode up and he spoke. “We are close.”

Bob looked and smiled. “There.”

Annja followed his gaze and saw the first indications of civilization she’d seen since they left Magadan. “Not exactly a bustling city, is it?”

Gregor shook his head. “Yakutsk is small. Just a few hundred people live there. But they are good souls.” He handed out some energy bars.

“You’ve been there before?” Annja asked while eating.

Gregor shrugged. “I was attached to a military unit that operated in this area once. A long time ago.”

“Any friends still left in these parts?” she asked.

“Everyone is friendly, once they get to know you. This part of my country is remote. Strangers are not a usual thing to see, so the people living here are somewhat suspicious. But having me with you is okay. They will be glad to meet you when they see me.”

Bob nudged Annja. “Gregor’s like a VIP ticket to any club back in the Big Apple.”

“Handy guy to have around,” Annja said.

Gregor grinned. “We ride now.”

They got back on the bikes and pedaled on. The dirt road gave way to a cracked type of pavement that looked as if it might be all of fifty years old. Gregor pointed at it as they rode.

“Once this road was much sturdier. The Soviet army drove tanks all over the country.”

“Guess it’s been a while since they had any road-repair crews out here,” Annja said.

“Money,” Gregor said. “All comes back to money.”

The woods fell behind them and muddy open fields dotted the countryside. Simple houses lined the roads, most with smoking chimneys. The air felt colder, and Annja could see there was a layer of fog moving in from the west.

The single road grew wider as they entered the town itself. Annja could pick out what looked to be a main all-purpose store and a small café. Aside from that, there was a loose cluster of homes and a church standing alone at the end of the road.

Gregor pointed at the church. “Father Jakob runs the church. He has been here since the dinosaurs.”

Annja grinned. “Think he remembers you?”

Gregor looked at her. “Perhaps I made an indelible impression on him when I was much younger.”

“How so?”

“He heard my confession. First time for me since I was only a boy. I think I may have scarred him,” Gregor said with a laugh.

Bob pedaled past them. “Where is everyone?”

Annja glanced around. There seemed to be no one around the store or café. The streets looked deserted. There weren’t even any dogs lounging around, which Annja found very peculiar. She’d been around the world enough to know that even in the poorest places, you could always find a mutt or two mooching about.

She heard voices, though. “What’s that?” she asked.

Gregor pointed to their right. “Over here.”

They dismounted and walked between two houses, passing rusted drain pipes leaking water to the muddy ground. Annja caught a whiff of something that smelled quite disgusting and hoped they had some type of plumbing here at least.

They passed the houses and in front of them stood an open field. Annja shivered as they walked. Annja was sure the temperature must have dipped well below freezing.

As they approached the crowd of people milling around, Annja could see they were extremely agitated. Several women clutched at the few children present. The men all wore grim expressions.

Gregor strode up to them, but his gruff demeanor vanished as he approached. Annja heard him speaking with them. Next to her, Bob listened intently. As he did, he also frowned.

“What is it?” Annja asked.

Gregor looked back at her. “What we saw last night in the woods.”

“That thing?”

Gregor shook his head. “It is not a thing. It is called Khosadam.”

“Khosadam?” Annja glanced at Bob.

Gregor gestured for them to come closer. “It hunts. It stalks this village,” he said.

Annja shook her head. “How do they know?”

Gregor pointed at the ground, and several of the villagers stepped back. Annja looked and there in the mud she saw the tracks of what looked to be human feet.

“So? Someone was out here walking around barefoot.”

Gregor shook his head. “Look closer.”

Annja knelt and studied the tracks. The footsteps showed six toes.

Gregor’s voice was subdued. “You know many people that have six toes, Annja Creed?”

8

“This is insane,” Annja said. “A couple of six-toed footprints and people are losing their minds? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Gregor led them back toward the town. “Then what would you call it? You said yourself you have never seen things like this before.”

“I’d start by looking for someone who is suffering from frostbite,” Annja said. “Walking around in subzero temperatures without shoes on might even get them gangrene.”

Gregor stopped. “This is not a joking matter, Annja. These villagers take this very seriously. The idea that Khosadam is stalking this area has them very frightened. And rightfully so. Khosadam is not something to dismiss so easily.”

“I’m not dismissing it per se,” Annja said. She just didn’t think that it was possible to get so upset over something so seemingly trivial. She’d seen plenty of things far worse and not been half as concerned as some of those villagers.

“And what about what we saw last night?” Gregor asked. “You are thinking that was nothing special, as well?”

“I don’t know what I saw last night,” Annja said. She looked at Bob. “Got anything to add to this craziness?”

Bob shrugged. “I told you last night that Gregor has never steered me wrong. If he says something is amiss, then we’d be fools to think otherwise.”

Annja sighed. “So, what is this Khosadam thing, anyway?”

“She’s a Siberian goddess,” Bob said.

“As in a deity?”

“Yes.”

Annja shook her head. “You realize this sounds even more ludicrous now. They actually think there’s a goddess stalking them?”

“That would be my impression, yes,” he replied.

“What—did she get bored with heaven or Olympus or wherever else she was hanging out?”

“She was kicked out of heaven, actually,” Bob said. “By her husband, of all things.”

Annja grinned. “One step forward for women’s rights.”

“Her husband, Ec—”

“His name was Ec?” Annja chuckled. “I would have left, too.”

Bob shook his head. “Don’t trivialize it. Ec banished her for being unfaithful to him. She liked to cavort with a lot of the lesser deities and sometimes even mortals.”

“Okay,” Annja said.

“She has another name, as well,” Bob said, leading them into the nearby café.

A wall of heat slammed into Annja as she walked through the door. She could smell burned coffee and some other scents she didn’t recognize. Despite her unease with the entire situation, her mouth watered and she realized she was ravenous.

“What’s her other name?” Annja asked, distracted.

“Eater of souls,” Bob said quietly.

“Sounds like a fun gal,” Annja said. “What did she do to get a name like that?”

Gregor set down three cups of coffee in front of them. He spoke to the woman behind the counter, who nodded and began preparing something for them to eat.

Bob sipped his coffee. “Before she was kicked out of heaven, Ec had her fitted with something called a brank.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Annja said. “Some kind of torture device, right?”

“It’s a metal insert, actually,” Bob said. “It gets placed in the mouth of the victim, and a special hood goes over the head to keep the brank in place. It was used on women who spoke too much, but Ec apparently used it to keep his ex-wife from eating anything, figuring she would eventually wither away.”

“Ec sounds like a real charmer.” Annja sipped her coffee as fresh sounds streamed from the kitchen behind the counter. Whatever Gregor had requested, it seemed to be something special.

“When Khosadam couldn’t eat in the normal mortal way, she had to resort to other methods to retain her vitality,” Bob continued.

Annja looked at him. “Is this where the soul-eater part comes in?”

“Yes. Khosadam took to perching herself over fresh graves. When the soul of the departed rose toward heaven, she would ingest it.”

“How?”

“The method is supposed to have been something like sniffing it up through her nose. Doing anything with her mouth would have been too painful for her to endure.”

“Nice picture.” Annja glanced at Gregor, who seemed to be paying rapt attention to Bob. “This is the thing the village thinks is stalking them?”

“Yes,” Gregor said.

“A six-toed deity who has been kicked out of heaven.”

The Russian shrugged. “I did not make this up, Annja. This is what they think. To them, it is painfully real.”

Annja turned to Bob. “Does the legend say anything about six toes?”

Bob nodded. “Khosadam grew the extra toe to help her grip the tombstones of those she would eventually dine off of.”

“Interesting.” Annja watched the door to the kitchen burst open, and an old woman came out with a tray of bowls. She placed the tray in front of them and nodded toward Gregor, who thanked her.

Annja sniffed. “Smells…interesting.”

Gregor pointed at the bowls. “Borscht. Most people in the West are familiar with it.”

“Beets, right?” Annja asked.

“Yes.”

Annja helped herself to a spoonful and found it surprisingly good, despite the deep red color that she didn’t much like. It warmed her as she ate more of it. Gregor finished his bowl quickly, but Bob’s sat untouched.

“I hate beets,” he said. “A leftover from my childhood when my mother made me eat the things at a small orange table in the corner of my kitchen.”

Annja cocked an eyebrow. “You may want to have an extended talk with your therapist about that one, Bob.”

“I already have. It’s taking me a while longer to work through it.”

The old woman cleared the soup bowls and cast a disapproving glance at Bob. She brought out another tray and Annja took a whiff.

“Wow,” she said, her mouth watering.

Gregor nodded at the plates. “Mashed potatoes and goulash.”

“What’s in the goulash?” Bob asked.

“Green peppers and roasted lamb, it would appear.”

Annja helped herself to a heaping spoonful. “This is delicious.”

Gregor translated and the old woman beamed at her. Then she cast another glance at Bob, who seemed to be picking his way through the green peppers. He saw the old woman’s gaze and immediately took a big spoonful, chewing and smiling at the same time.

Her gaze softened, but only just. She left and Gregor leaned close to Bob. “I don’t think she likes you.”

“How is it,” Annja said, “that a globe-trotting guy like you doesn’t seem to like vegetables that much?”

“I like vegetables fine,” Bob said. “Just not cooked ones.”

“You must be putting your therapist’s kids through school,” Annja said. She dug back into her dish and washed down the spoonfuls with more thick coffee.

Gregor tore through his plate and leaned back. “This place is still run by the same woman who ran it when I was with the military. We came through here on exercise and she served my entire platoon. Her food, it is still as good as it ever was.”

“She remembers you?” Annja asked.

Gregor nodded. “Yes.”

The old woman returned and rested a hand on Gregor’s shoulder. She spoke, her Russian thick around the false teeth she wore. Gregor smiled and seemed to almost blush. Annja smiled at the thought of such a big, tough guy blushing.

“What is she saying?” Annja asked.

Bob was smiling, too. “She says he is like her son. That when he came through many years ago, he helped her rescue her kitten from the roof when it got stuck. She says a man like Gregor is tough and gentle at the same time.”

Gregor said something else to the old woman, who kissed him on the forehead and then gathered up the dishes.

“What did you say to her?” Annja asked.

“I told her that if this ever reached my friends, they would never let me live it down. I would be embarrassed.”

“You’re a big softie after all,” Annja said.

Gregor shrugged. “Only when I have to be.”

The old woman returned and this time served them a dark tea and plates of what looked like fruit slices.

“Kissel,” Gregor said. “It is stewed fruit.”

Annja popped a slice into her mouth and chewed, relishing the sweetness of the apricot slice she’d eaten. The tea reminded her of a dark black leaf tea she’d had once in China. “This was some lunch,” she said.

Gregor smiled. “She loves to cook.”

“But back to Khosadam,” Annja said. “They really are taking this seriously, huh?”

“Yes,” Bob said. He looked at Gregor. “What do they think will happen next?”

“They are concerned that she will hunt.”

“But we didn’t pass any cemeteries around here on the way in,” Annja said. “Doesn’t that kind of rule out the whole supernatural angle?”

“Just because you did not see the cemetery does not mean there is not one,” Gregor said. “The last time I was here, the villagers buried their dead behind the church.”

Annja nodded. “Down at the end of the street. Father Jakob, you mentioned.”

“Yes. He is Eastern Orthodox.”

“You think he’s still here?”

Gregor spoke to the old woman, who had come out with the bill. She handed it immediately to Bob, who started fumbling around with his wallet.

When Gregor had finished speaking, the old woman nodded. Gregor looked back at Annja.

“She says he is still here and that he will be here until the wind sweeps his dust away.”

“Colorful,” Annja said, laughing.

Bob fished out a wad of money and handed it to the old woman. She grabbed the bundle of cash and leafed through it. Her eyes softened and she kissed Bob on the forehead before trundling off.

Annja shook her head. “Looks like you won her over.”

“Money is the greatest facilitator of all,” Bob said. “A little extra green makes everyone all lovey-dovey.”

“I guess we should go and see Father Jakob,” Annja said. “Maybe he’ll be able to shed a little light on this whole situation.”

Walking out of the café, Annja felt a funny sensation and turned back to see the old woman peering through the torn lace curtain framing the windows. Gregor didn’t look back but steered Annja away.

“As I said, they are distrustful of strangers. Give them time and they will warm up to you.”

“This business of the Khosadam has them spooked,” Bob said. “Everyone is suspect.”

Annja nodded. “Quite a place we’ve come to, Bob.”

“It’s about to get even weirder if that sky carries through on the promise of a blizzard,” he said.

Annja looked up, and the thick, bloated clouds seemed as if they might fall out of the sky. “How long?”

“Soon,” Bob said. “Another hour perhaps.”

Annja looked at Gregor. “Is there a place we can stay here in town?”

Gregor pointed at a decrepit building that towered over the other buildings. “Yakutsk hotel. The only place in town.”

It looked quite run-down, but any place would serve as long as it kept them warm and safe from the blizzard outside. Annja turned to Gregor again. “Has anyone in town died recently?”

“No.”

“So, if no one has died lately, how is this Khosadam supposed to eat?”

Gregor frowned. “That is what has the villagers scared the most. It is said that when Khosadam cannot find a fresh grave, she will hunt the living.”

“She’ll kill?” Annja asked in disbelief.

“Yes. And when she kills, she will then wait for the dead person’s soul to lift from the body.”

“And then she eats it?”

Gregor nodded. “Yes.”

The first flakes fell from the sky as they hurried toward the church. Already, the Siberian sky had darkened.

Annja wondered what the night might hold in store for them all.

9

By the time they reached the church, the air had grown thick with snow. A driving wind lashed snow at them almost sideways. The steps of the church were slippery, but Annja, Bob and Gregor crested them and stood in front of the thick wooden door.