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“They can have the horse back,” I say. “I mean, I feel bad for him. He hates them, and clearly he’s not a normal horse. I don’t think it’s right for them to have him, or to race him against his will or whatever. But I’m not sure what else to do.”
“I said, if I call my dad—”
“I don’t want to force anything horrible for you. I just need a loan.” I hate asking for money, but I don’t see another way, and I don’t have a single dime. “And if you know anyone who can find identification for people. . .”
“Then you’re just running again,” he says. “Stay with me instead, at least until these people can’t hurt you.”
It’s tempting. In all my life, just like the last two times I was around him, I’ve never been more tempted to just surrender. I’ve never more strongly considered trusting a man to take care of me. But that always comes with strings, and I can’t handle strings. I know I can’t. I’m the kind of person whom strings will strangle in the end, always.
“Gav—”
He holds up his hands. “I’m not saying you have to date me. I’m not proposing marriage. I’m just saying that instead of running away, you could believe in me for a minute. You can hide, and I’ll take care of this for you.”
I think about what I know about Gavriil. He’s honest. He’s hard working, especially for a rich man’s son, and he’s kind. He’s a beautiful, generous man. If there really are good men out there, he’s one of them.
And no one like that deserves to be saddled with someone like me.
“I can’t,” I say.
“I’ll get you cash,” he says. “But it’s a Sunday, and it’s late afternoon. The soonest I can get it for you is the morning. Stay here tonight, and you can think about it. Alright?”
My heart starts to pound. “But what if they find me?”
“If you think I can’t keep you safe for one night, here on my own track, you don’t know me at all.”
“They have the police on their side,” I say. “If they show up with a warrant, what will you do?”
“They don’t know where you went, or they’d already be here. They’ll have a lot of ground to cover to locate you, and even when they do, they need a judge to give them a warrant. And if it comes to that, I will call—”
“I don’t want you to have to call your dad for me.”
He presses a finger to my mouth. “My uncle,” he says. “I’ll call my uncle. He’s the Minister of Justice here in Russia—he’s literally the boss of all the judges in the country.”
Oh. Well. That’s nice.
“Please calm down. It’s going to be alright.”
A single tear rolls down my face, and I wipe it away quickly, but Gavriil sees it, and he stands up. He pulls me to my feet, and his arms wrap around me, holding me tightly.
There’s a horrible whinnying scream behind us, and then a whamming sound. We jump apart and look through the glass of the door. Quicksilver’s throwing himself against the stall door and screaming. His eyes are wild, his nostrils flaring, and he starts striking the inside of the door with his hooves.
“That horse is possessed,” Gavriil says. “We should call a priest to perform an exorcism or something.”
But it’s almost like he was watching us, and when Gavriil crossed a line. . . I move away from Gavriil and wave to Quicksilver. He stops banging on the door and hurling himself against the stall, but he’s still watching intently.
“I think—”
“If you can loan me money in the morning,” I say, “I’ll take it. I’ll release him into the woods, send him on his way, and then I’ll get out of here.”
Gavriil shakes his head. “I think it’s a bad plan, but I’ve never had any luck telling you what to do.”
I can’t help smiling about that. “Don’t worry. No one else has either.”
He sighs, but he doesn’t argue any more. At least, not right now.
“Oh,” I say. “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Of course.” He pulls it out of his pocket. But when I call them, neither Kristiana nor Mirdza answer. In fact, both the calls go to voicemail. It’s a little deflating. I sort of thought they’d be waiting by the phone. I was hoping maybe one of them could wire me money, and I wouldn’t have to impose on poor Gavriil. I leave them both messages, telling them I’m at the racetrack and that they can call me back at this number. Mirdza’s met Gavriil, so she’ll be able to guess that I’ve found some kind of help. Maybe that’ll help her sleep easier.
