Daughters of the Night Sky

“As you wish, Major Tymoshenko. Assignments in the division will be up to you. Goodness knows you understand better than anyone outside your regiment which of your people will work best together.”

“Very well.” Oksana gestured to me with her good arm. “Senior Lieutenant Soloneva here will be my deputy commander. She’s the best we have.”

I fought against the urge to sit up but turned myself in the direction of the general and Oksana to acknowledge my entrance into the conversation.

“You’re mending well, Lieutenant?”

“Remarkably,” the doctor replied for me. “But I would recommend a few weeks’ more healing before returning to service. Her wounds need time to knit properly, or she’ll risk aggravating them midflight. That might be more than a little inconvenient.”

“Understood. You’ll accept Major Tymoshenko’s assignment when you’re cleared, Soloneva?”

Men were sent back into service as soon as a physician would clear them—often before they were fully healed, if the rumors were true—but we could leave at any time. In a week I could be recovering in Mama’s cabin in Miass. Oksana looked over at me, and this thought evaporated like late-summer raindrops. Taisiya wouldn’t have abandoned the regiment, no matter how badly injured she was. She would be ashamed to think I would do so. Oksana would need me at her side as she learned how to lead.

“I accept, gratefully,” I said.

“Excellent. We’ll be promoting you to captain for your actions, Soloneva. You saved your aircraft from falling into enemy hands. Now get rested and ready yourselves to get back to service, the pair of you.”

The general exited as abruptly as he arrived, the doctor trailing after him.

“Surely the next visitor will be Grandfather Frost,” I said, breaking the silence. “I’d have sooner expected him.”

“It seems vulgar to take Sofia’s place,” Oksana said, ignoring my jest. “But I think it’s what she would have wanted.”

“I know it is,” I said, rolling slightly onto my left side to better see her.

“Thank you for accepting. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“What else am I to do? Knit socks?”

“You’re married. You have good reason to save your own skin.”

“Not while Vanya is risking his,” I said. “I’m flattered you chose me.”

“I meant what I said. You know your stuff, and I need someone like you to help me lead, if that’s to be my lot.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone people like. I know I’m—I’m not the warmest of people. I need you to help me keep up morale. You’re better at it than I am. Sofia always told me to look to you and Taisiya if I needed guidance.”

“I’ll do what I can,” I said. “But the girls need more than just some cheering up. Sofia wouldn’t have chosen you without reason. That wasn’t who she was.” The breath caught in my throat as I registered the past tense.

Oksana sat silent for a few moments, and I began to wonder if she’d drifted off to sleep.

“Do you think I can do this on my own, Katya?”

“No,” I answered. “No one can. But with a regiment like ours behind you, you stand a chance.”

Hospital beds were more precious than the fallen tsar’s old gems, so after a week, Oksana was transferred back to the front against the doctor’s wishes, and I was sent to a convalescent center even farther east from the front lines, on the outskirts of Stalingrad. I had the privacy of my own bedroom, which was the most luxurious sleeping arrangement I’d known since the war broke out. The beds were more comfortable, the food somewhat better, but the medical staff and their supplies were far more scant than in the hospital. But as my side wasn’t in need of close medical attention, I gratefully gave my place in the hospital to those more grievously injured.

One night as I slept, I felt a warm body slide behind mine on the mattress and strong arms encircling me, carefully avoiding the injury on my right flank. It was still full dark, and I was too deep in slumber to be alarmed. My subconscious—the only part of me that lingered in wakefulness—knew the person meant me no harm. A person with foul intent wouldn’t have taken care to move so gently or to cover my exposed feet with the blanket. I did not scream but struggled to open my eyes to see who had joined me. I could tell it was a man’s arm as I became more aware of the waking world.

I summoned the strength to turn over, bracing my stitches as I turned, to see Vanya’s long eyelashes already resting heavily on his high cheekbones. He was seconds away from deep sleep, exhausted from the journey that had brought him to my side. I lowered my lips to his, gently, slowly tasting his sweetness. It had to be a dream. I burrowed my body as close to his as I dared and embraced him with all the strength I had left. His form felt too solid for the dreamworld. He did not vanish as I pulled him closer. I choked back a sob of relief as the reality of him in my arms began to register.

“My Vanyusha,” I whispered through my tears. “I love you.”

“And I love you, my darling Katyushka. Sleep, my lovely.” His soft snores filled the silence as soon as the words escaped his lips.