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  ‘Oh my!’ she said. ‘You are real.’

  ‘It’s my father.’

  ‘I can see that. He’s very shiny.’

  ‘The name’s Yuda. Yuda Vasilyevich. Are you the Nenets shaman?’

  ‘Oh my,’ said the Shamanka again. ‘Well, you’d better hold on tight, baby’s coming.’

  Annat felt her next contraction starting to build. She clenched her hands, ready to count and breathe, and Yuda held her mind lightly, letting her steer. He sent cool water to lick round her aching sides, and Annat shut her eyes and bawled as she felt the birth spasm go through her.

  ‘Push!’ shouted the Nenets.

  Annat felt like a concertina. She wanted to be a long way off, no baby, and no contractions. Her body was splitting open and still nothing would come. The baby was lodged inside her, too big to stay. She felt Yuda’s thought weaving through hers. He did not intrude, but if Annat looked inwards she saw the flame of him behind her. He took the pain away a little at a time, as if he were reeling in thread.

  ‘I can see the baby’s head!’ called the Shamanka.

  Annat felt her father chuckle. The young woman was rather brisk and earnest. Annat allowed herself to lean against him; she had been resisting him in some part of her soul, afraid of everything. And it was stupid; he was the man she had always known, and this had been his job. She could feel the nails in his chest digging into her back.

  - How are you, Missis? he thought for the second time.

  - I can’t –

  Annat’s body spasmed again. She felt like a tiny bird, a wren, trying to lay an egg the size of its own body. She howled and pushed down with muscles she did not know she had. Her body cracked and she thought she would snap; the Shamanka shouted encouragement, and her father swore under his breath. He took the pain into the core of him, and Annat was suddenly free. Light as air. She felt as if she were floating several feet above the mattress. The Shamanka gave a shout of triumph, and Oscar bawled; he was out, and Annat felt suddenly empty, raw and bruised.

  - Well done, thought Yuda. He stroked her face. Meine liebe kind.

  ‘Where is he?’ said Annat. The Nenets cut and tied the umbilical cord and wiped Oscar with a towel before putting him on Annat’s chest. He was surprisingly small, and an angry plum red; his face was one loud yell. He was real. She felt tears spurt from her eyes, and sobbed out loud; he was perfect, he was the best thing she had ever done. Her heart seemed to swell with love in an absurd way, like a balloon. She understood how her own mother had felt years ago, and she knew what Yuda felt, understood his devotion to Malchik and herself. It was as if she had been mugged or ravished by an unexpected emotion that overwhelmed her. There was nothing rational in it; the baby was ugly, tiny, wrinkled and red, but Annat loved him absolutely. She touched him, amazed at the delicacy of his skin, and the size of his minute fingernails.

  ‘Zyon,’ she said; and Yuda muttered a blessing. Annat repeated the words after him.

  The Nenets stooped over her, smiling. ‘Do you like him?’ she said.

  ‘He’s – perfect. Thank you, thank you!’

  ‘They’re all perfect,’ said the Shamanka. Annat saw her meet Yuda’s glance and smile at him. This said something about her. She was not afraid of him, or even surprised he was there.

  Annat thought she could understand why Yuda had been willing to lay down his life for Malchik. The thought of anything harming or killing this life which had come from her roused in her a storm of anger, fear and fearlessness. She understood those terrifying animals, mother bears defending their cubs, or tigers protecting their young. And Yuda was not a woman.

  She understood for the first time how much it had hurt him to leave them. He had not seemed to care; but he had cared. She touched one of his hands, which felt so human.

  - Don’t cry, thought Yuda, stroking the tear from her eye with a light touch.

  - I’m glad you were here.

  - It’s the hardest thing, you know. So much love. It tears you open.

  Annat held Oscar against her. He was small and warm and heavy; he wriggled, snored and dribbled like a small animal, opening his eyes so she glimpsed their colour for an instant.

  At this moment, Yuste arrived, followed by Genie. Annat’s aunt was still untying the strings of her bonnet. When she saw her twin brother there, not to mention Oscar, her face was a picture.

  ‘You did it!’ cried Genie. She ran to Annat and kissed her, and stooped to examine the baby. ‘He looks very cross,’ she said. Then, taking in Yuda, who she could hardly miss, she said, ‘Thank you for helping, Mister Vasilyevich.’

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Yuste said to the Shamanka. The Nenets nodded, smiling all over her face. It seemed she too found Yuste’s expression of surprise and disapproval amusing.

  ‘All is well, Madame Grebenshikov.’

  Yuste came to inspect the baby, Annat, and her brother.

  ‘It seems you did perfectly well without me,’ she said. Annat wondered which of them she was reproaching.

  ‘Nice to see you too, Yuste,’ said Yuda. ‘Just as well one of us could make it, eh?’

  Yuste glanced at the Nenets, who was cleaning up and doing delivery room things. ‘I don’t suppose you see this sort of thing often,’ she said.

  The Shamanka gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘When I heard it was Missis Vasilyevich, I knew I could expect something unusual. And I’m a Shamanka, Madame, we see many odd things. Spirits, spirit animals, elementals – the room can be crowded. But Mister Vasilyevich is more solid than I would have expected. It’s unexpected to have a ghost turn up and help deliver the baby.’

  ‘He’s a Raphah,’ said Yuste. ‘They are solid.’

  ‘You lie back down, Missis,’ Yuda said to Annat. ‘You’ll want to get cleaned up, and women’s things. I’m going out for a cigarette.’

  And they found out what distinguished Oscar, the child of two shamans, from a normal shaman baby. Just as Yuda finished speaking, Oscar thought, quite clearly and in the same crotchety tone he had used in the womb - Who is that? I don’t recognise his voice.

  Yuda, Annat and Yuste all heard him. Genie saw their reaction.

  ‘Whoa, that isn’t meant to happen,’ said Yuda.

  ‘He’s using sprechen!’ said Yuste.

  Annat touched the baby’s face. ‘Oscar,’ she said. ‘You can be a baby now, if you want. You can forget everything.’

  Oscar yawned. – Why? I was inside, now I’m outside. Pleased to meet you, Mameh. My eyes don’t work properly.

  The Shamanka came to bend over Annat and examine Oscar. He opened his eyes, which were tiny and dark, and yelled at her. She glanced at Yuste and Yuda, shaking her head.

  - I can’t detect anything amiss. But he is definitely thinking. Thinking like an adult, not a baby.

  - I’m sure this must be all the fault of that Magus, thought Yuste, folding her arms across her chest.

  ‘Auntie, we shouldn’t sprechen so much when Genie is here,’ said Annat. She stroked Oscar’s soft cranium. It occurred to her that Semyon, the baby’s father, was conspicuous by his absence; but he was not the type of man likely to show up for the birth of a child he had fathered.

  ‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with his parents,’ said Yuda. ‘We’ve known all along that Oscar would be exceptional. That’s why shamans aren’t supposed to f - sleep with each other.’

  Genie snorted. Though she was aware of the seriousness of the situation, like Annat she sometimes found it difficult to keep a straight face when Yuste and Yuda were present. Yuste was a good deal more strait-laced than her brother, and he tended to forget he was not supposed to swear when she was around.

  - There’s nothing wrong with me, thought Oscar. Anyone would think Mameh had given birth to a suckling pig. I’ve got all the usual limbs, and a head. What are you complaining about?

  ‘And I’m not going to be lectured by someone who’s less than half-an-hour old!’ said
Yuste.

  Annat stroked Oscar’s head. It was funny, but also worrying.

  ***

  Oscar was sleeping in his crib. Annat had recovered enough to hobble to the window, though she could feel her stitches. She could sense something going on in the garden; it sounded like an argument.

  When she looked out of the window, sure enough, she saw her father and her aunt, two small, sombre figures, gesticulating, waving their arms, and walking up and down. The only thing they were not doing was shouting. It was a mime argument, conducted in silence, and Annat could hear it in her mind. She leant on the window-sill, feeling a sense of foreboding. Senior shamans like Yuste and Yuda did not quarrel over nothing. It was true they often argued; they were quarrelsome people, and they disagreed all the more because they were twins.

  Annat gave a sigh. She could almost make out what they were saying; she thought they were talking about her and Oscar, but particularly Oscar. One of them had made a suggestion, and the other was resisting it.

  Annat went back to the cot where Oscar lay, blowing bubbles in his sleep, and stooped over him. It was her fault; if she had not lain with Semyon Magus, or forgotten to use protection in her haste, the baby would not have been born a double shaman. It was clear he was different to other shaman babies; the Shamanka had said so, and Yuste and Yuda recognised the difference. He could sprechen at an age when the speech centres in his brain hadn’t developed. His body might be a baby’s, but his mind seemed fully formed. And that was not right.

  Annat bent over the cot, giving way to tears. She wanted to protect him from harm; and she wanted to shield him from interfering, well-meaning adults like her aunt and father, who feared for his safety. It was not only that Oscar was a prize for unscrupulous Magi; once his powers started to develop he might do great harm to himself and others.

  Oscar’s eyes opened. They were an odd colour, neither blue nor brown.

  - Mother, I’m not going to do that.

  Annat bent over and touched his cheek.

  -Oscar, meine kind, you’re a baby. But once you learn to walk and run - and so much more – you will get angry. And use your powers to get what you want. But unlike other shaman babies, your powers are strong.

  The baby lay looking at her with the unfocussed expression of a new-born.

  - You think I can’t control my powers?

  As his thought finished, Yuste and Yuda burst into the room – neither of them was good at entering quietly.

  - Oh no, thought Oscar. It’s the terrible twins.

  In spite of herself, Annat laughed, because her father and aunt looked so startled.

  - Is that him? demanded her father.

  - Ask him yourself.

  Yuda stooped over the cot. He picked Oscar up and held him at arm’s length. Instead of bursting into tears, the baby stared at him in fascination.

  - Be careful, Yuda, he’s a baby, not a football.

  - Are you my grandfather? thought Oscar.

  - You shouldn’t be talking, Mister.

  - I’m not. This is sprechen.

  - Who are you?

  - Oscar.

  Yuda shook his head. He handed the baby to Annat, and turned to his sister.

  - You can’t tell me that’s right. He sounds like an old man!

  - You think he’s a Dybbuk?

  - I am not a Dybbuk! thought Oscar.

  Annat cradled him against her. She did not think he was possessed by a Dybbuk, a demon, or anything evil. But something was wrong. Once born, he should have been indistinguishable from a Teshvet baby. Instead, he seemed to have a fully-formed personality and intelligence.

  ‘We’ll have to take him to see Sival,’ said Yuste aloud. ‘As soon as he returns from Inde.’

  ‘I can’t stay here,’ said Yuda. ‘I got permission for a short stay. Not a three-month vacation.’

  ‘He wants you and the baby to go back to the Greenwood with him,’ said Yuste.

  ‘Now?’ said Annat.

  Yuda looked unhappy. ‘I need to get to the bottom of this,’ he said. ‘I can’t risk leaving Oscar here. Either he’s going to be in danger, or the danger will come from him. And I can’t stay because Huldis is about to give birth and Zyon knows what will happen. I don’t want her stuck with Sarl and Semyon, neither of whom would be of any use to a woman giving birth.’

  ‘I must say, Yuda, you always manage to have such unique problems,’ said Yuste.

  - Is that the shadow-baby? thought Oscar.

  They stopped and stared at him. He was lying comfortably in the crook of Annat’s arm. She knew she was going to have to feed him soon, and change his nappy. She wondered how she would manage to change nappies in the Greenwood, where there were none of the things she needed – hot and cold running water, disinfectant, buckets – anything.

  ‘What do you mean, “shadow baby”?’ said Yuda.

  Oscar could not focus on him. He seemed to be considering his answer.

  - There’s me. Oscar. And your baby, who can’t exist because her parents are ghosts – Repha’im. A shadow baby.

  Annat could see Yuda was upset. It struck her that Oscar seemed indifferent to this; he had been asked a question, and he had provided an answer, as required. He did not care what effect it would have on his listeners. And in that sense, he was like a true infant; he had no idea of anyone’s needs except his own. She could see why her father was worried; feelings such as empathy and care for other people took time to develop; some people never developed them.

  ‘Oscar,’ she said. ‘We don’t know what you mean. What is a “shadow baby”?’

  - Well, it’s not dead. To be dead, you have to have been alive in the first place. It’s like an ordinary baby, but without a body. I mean, it must have some sort of body because the parents do. I’m not sure about that. But it’s not made out of squishy organic material, like me. I’M SO HUNGRY…

  He turned bright red, screwed up his eyes and yelled. It was a typical baby noise, and Yuste and Yuda left Annat in peace to feed him. She was glad they had gone; when she was feeding Oscar she was exceedingly glad he reverted to being a normal infant. It would have been too mortifying to have him thinking at her while suckling. He grizzled, and she lifted him to her shoulder to pat his back. It was funny to think that Malchik’s wife had a nurse to help with all this. Though she had Genie…

  When Oscar had been fed and had fallen asleep once more – he slept a lot, but not always at night, to her dismay – she called her aunt and her father back in. They sat side by side on the bed and gazed at her.

  ‘Can I take Genie?’ she said.

  Yuda raised his eyes to Heaven. ‘Natka, this isn’t a picnic. Genie is mortal, and Teshvet. What’s she going to do in the Greenwood?’

  ‘She’s my wife, Yuda. I’m not leaving her.’

  ‘Your wife? When did you get married?’

  Annat was sitting on the nursing chair next to Oscar’s cot. She had been dreading this conversation.

  ‘We exchanged rings in the presence of witnesses,’ she said, without looking at her father or her aunt. ‘We were hand-fasted, the same as you and Huldis, Tateh.’

  ‘Natka, you can’t marry Genie. She’s a woman,’ said Yuste, calm and reasonable.

  ‘I can. And I did.’

  ‘You heard her, Yuste,’ said Yuda.

  ‘Don’t make fun of me, Mister! I’m serious,’ said Annat.

  He met her gaze, and nodded. She thought he remained amused, but was hiding it. The idea of two women getting married was as unfamiliar to him as it was to Yuste. But to Annat it was a mark of her commitment to Genie. To stay faithful to one person, a decision Yuda had made when he married Huldis.

  ‘Have you discussed this with her?’ he said.

  ‘Not yet. I need to know why you want me to go there with Oscar.’

  ‘It sounds as if he knows more about it than I do.’

  ‘What do you mean, Yuda?’ said Yuste.


  ‘Oscar talking about himself and the “shadow baby”. He knows something we don’t. I don’t mean he’s malign – far from it. But he’s aware something’s up.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of a shadow baby, Yuda,’ said Yuste. ‘I know Huldis was worried that she might give birth to a skeleton or something dreadful. But none of you has noticed anything since. You’d surely have noticed. Wouldn’t you?’

  There was a pause. Yuda not answering straight away was so unusual that Annat and Yuste exchanged glances.

  ‘When Annat was carrying Oscar, we could see the baby if we touched her,’ he said. ‘This isn’t the same. Huldis’s belly has swelled, like a mortal woman’s. We can see movement, and the shape of a child inside her. But we can’t actually see it, if you get what I mean. It’s an outline, as if the baby was invisible, or made from transparent stuff.’

  Yuste turned to her brother, and laid her hand over his. ‘Poor Huldis,’ she said. ‘What are you going to do, Yudi?’

  He shook his head. ‘No idea. This is an unusual situation, as you said. We haven’t been able to find any precedents. We set Semyon to work researching strange births – prodigious infants – and the rest. But it breaks all the rules. Ghosts don’t have children. We would have asked the Goddess, but she summons us, not the other way round.’

  ‘Oscar seems to have some idea what it is,’ said Yuste.

  ‘Oscar knows, and we don’t. He’s barely two days old and he knows more than us!’

  Annat stretched. ‘Tateh,’ she said. ‘Could this be anything to do with Kaschai the Deathless?’

  They had thwarted the sinister Sklavan Magus several times. He must know what they had done; they had averted the destruction of three worlds, including their own, and had discovered what part he played in their own misfortunes. They were onto him, and he must know it; if Annat and Huldis had not been pregnant, they would have pursued him.

  ‘What would he have to do with our kinder?’ said Yuda.

  ‘He’s got a grudge against us. And he serves the Staryetz of Sklava. He sees us as a threat to his ambitions and those of his Imperial master. He knows you are one of the few shamans who can stand against him. Huldis and me as well. We’re the only ones who know what he was up to.’