Chapter 8: Darker Reflection

Anya continued, pointing at the leshy.  “Da?”

Dmitri paled beneath his bluish skin.  “Did she just call me father?”

“Da da doo da.”

“Sweet Mokosh, I need a drink,” Dmitri said.  He rubbed his temple.  “I have never had a child before.  Sure, I have imagined what it would be like, but… but… oh, just look at her.  She is irresistible.  I have never stolen a human like Vladimir does his wood wives but now I know why.  They are too precious to bear!”

“We have no mortal mistress,” Iosif said, his voice hallowed.  “She is a witch, an enchantress, a Circe or Medea, but encapsulated in a miniature form.”

“I doubt she is a witch, just precocious,” Morozko snorted, smoothing Anya’s damp bark curls.

“Ozya!” Anya cried.  She continued to babble, toying with Morozko