"I don't want to go underground,” Vladimir said.

"Neither do I,” Sergey confirmed.

"Well, it doesn't look like you have a choice now, does it?” Elena said. “Unless you want to stay here-but you know what they say about white crows. Besides, underground there are no cats, except Bayun."

Galina heaved a sigh. “What about my sister?” she said. “Does it mean she will stay a bird forever?"

Koschey shrugged. “That's my bad news, dear. I can't turn her back, but I can transfer her soul into another woman's body-if you can find one, that is."

"You mean for her to live someone will have to die?” she said. The idea did not seem monstrous to her-after all, just a few minutes ago she contemplated freezing to death. Petulance was not enough to compel her. But love…?

"No,” Koschey said. “Not die, exactly. Just trade places with her, become a bird."

"Like these two?” Galina pointed at Sergey and Vladimir.

"Not quite,” Koschey said. “They act human because their souls are separated from birds’ bodies, wrapped into glass. They are like hands inside puppets-they animate them, but they are not the same. Without the protection of glass, the human soul will become a bird's soul."

Galina nodded. “I'll trade with her,” she said. “Gladly."

Elena shot her a worried look. “Galina-do you think this is really a good idea?"

Galina smiled. “This is the best idea I ever had. Just let me tell her something, while I can still talk."

Koschey grasped the bird and extracted the glass marble with Vladimir's soul from the bird's crop. Galina cringed at the unceremonious manhandling of her sister, and looked away. She only looked when the green glass sphere lay secure in Koschey's narrow palm, ridges of bone running parallel along it like barrel staves.

Galina cradled the jackdaw in her palms, carefully as if it were a fragile Christmas ornament. The jackdaw looked at her sideways, its head tilted, its expression roguish. Galina stepped outside.

"Listen,” she said to the jackdaw, “when you remember all this-and you must, you must-please don't feel bad. Sure, this body is older than your own, but this is the best I can do. Remember-you have a baby, and mom is your responsibility now. Don't tell her what happened. Just be yourself."

She looked at the naked trees, delicate and yet stark against the sky like a painting. She searched for words to explain to the carefully listening bird. “She won't like you at first, but soon enough she'll realize that you aren't me. Just do what you always do. I wish I could make it easier, I wish you could come back to things like they used to be. You'll be a spinster aunt to your child, but it is better than not being there at all. And your husband will come back from the army and grieve for you, and you won't be able to tell him the truth, no matter how much it rips you up-just like that story, remember? No signs, no telling about the curse, or they'll lock you up and you won't like it. I leave you with my liabilities.

"But also, my advantages. You have a job-you'll just have to brush up on your English, and Velikanov will forgive you for missing work, and he'll cut you every break. Maybe you'll even like him.

"But most of all, remember this: I will try and visit you sometime. I don't know what it's like, being a jackdaw, I don't know if I would even remember, but if I can hold onto anything, I will hold onto this. And one thing I'm asking of you: remember that you had a sister once, a sister who loved you more than forty thousand brothers."

Galina swallowed and thought of something else to say. She wanted to talk about love and how strong it was, about how Masha ran away all these years ago and surely, if it was strong enough to take her away it was strong enough to bring her back. She wanted to tell her to be kind to their mother even though she wouldn't be kind in return-not at first at least, not while she still thought that the woman in Galina's body was Galina, the same damaged creature. But Masha knew all that already, and if anyone could win their mother over, it was her.

Galina returned to the cabin, the jackdaw perched on her wrist. “We're ready,” she told Koschey. “Just let me say my goodbyes."

Yakov nodded at her awkwardly.

"What are you going to do?” Galina said.

He made a face. “I'm not going back underground, that's for sure."

"What about your grandfather?"

"I'll send him a note, I guess,” Yakov said. “But my mother-she needs me more than he does. And there are things I need to take care of here."

Normally, Galina wouldn't pry; but right now coyness seemed superfluous. “What things?” she asked.

He jerked his shoulders, making the crow that perched there flap its wings and caw. “I want to talk to my ex-wife, for one. I need to know what happened-do you ever think that there are people you should've been kinder to?"

Galina nodded.

"Same with my ex,” he said. “There are things we need to talk about."

"Good luck,” Galina said.

"Same to you,” he said. “It's really nice, what you're doing for your sister."

She was grateful that he didn't argue with her decision. “Thanks,” she said. “Good luck on the surface."

"I'm staying underground,” Fyodor said. “It's much nicer there."

"Yes,” Oksana added. “I only came to the surface to help, but I can't wait to get back-Sovin will be so mad at me that I got one of his rats killed."

"It could've been more than one,” Galina said. “You did well. Thanks for helping."

Oksana shrugged. “I suppose."

Timur-Bey didn't say much and just shook her hand.

"I'll be seeing you around the underground then,” she said, and turned to Elena. “And you too."

Elena pouted a bit. “That's not what I meant. But you're welcome to stop by any time-even though jackdaws are poor conversationalists."

Galina was flattered by the disappointment so evident in Elena's voice. “I'm glad to have met you,” she said. “I really would've liked to be friends with you."

After that, there wasn't much else to say and she looked to Koschey. “I'm ready, I guess."

"I haven't done this one in a while,” he said. “It's not at all like putting one's death into a needle."

Galina wanted to ask what was the difference between a soul and a death and how did he learn to do these things, and what was his relationship to Baba Yaga. But there were too many questions-she would never ask them all, and now was her last chance. It seemed better to descend into silence without asking them. Let Masha figure out these things.

"Here we go,” Koschey said.

He ordered Galina to stand still while looking into the eyes of the bird perched on her wrist. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Koschey plucking thin translucent threads of magic from the air, weaving them together. She felt a nudge form within, a momentary vertigo, as if she were falling into a well. The jackdaw's eye became black and huge in front of her face, like a black moon, like a starless sky, like the bottom of a well.

The giant eye shrunk into a pupil, and was now surrounded with a hazel iris, crosshatched with golden and brown streaks. As she pulled away, her field of vision widened to the view of a pale face with blue smudges of shadow under tired, heavy-lidded eyes and a bloodless, tormented mouth. It took her a while to realize that the face she was looking into was hers.

The woman's eyes focused, and her mouth opened in the expression of childlike surprise and wonder. “Galka?” she whispered.

"Yes, Masha, it is me,” she wanted to answer, but her mouth-her beak, made of hard bone and horn-opened in a loud, jubilant squawk.

It is me, the jackdaw Galina cried, and this is you, and oh God, I'm so happy to have found you. I'm sorry it is not as perfect as I wanted it to be. Go now, go, hold your child, tell Mom that it'll be all right, visit grandma in the hospital. Just go, just go.