Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I

in a science lab. The military response team had reported that, so far, no elevated levels of radiation were on the ground along the meteor’s path, but that would need to be verified as well.
His team was already studying the cell phone videos flooding the news channels and it appeared that there were at least three impact points: the main fireball in the air over Chelyabinsk, this lake impact, and one more site to the northwest of the lake.
The fact that no one had located the third site yet meant that it was probably in the middle of the wilderness. Even if his team sent up drones to scan from the air, it would be a lengthy search. Perhaps he could put a request in for a satellite flyover, though it was unlikely that his superiors would rate it a high enough priority for the expense. Maybe if he could swing some positive media coverage out of it?
Feeling frustrated that he’d gotten nowhere after driving all the way to the lake, John pulled over and dug his cell out of his pocket. He called his deputy and told her to take the university meeting and then called his secretary to tell him the change of plans. He was going meteorite hunting.
TWO hours later, John regretted his earlier enthusiasm. The snowmobile he’d rented in Zlatoust was old and noisy and really, who was he kidding? He was just going to drive around in the forest for a while and find an impact crater?
Following a hunting trail through the trees, the snowsuit and facemask he’d rented with the machine were keeping him relatively warm. Still, the exposed skin on his cheeks just below his goggles was tingling. He should stop and adjust his mask. He had about another hour of daylight before he would give up, he decided. The drone idea was sounding better and better.
Just then, he noticed the swath of trees in front of him was burnt at the tops. Further along, a line of blown-down firs bisected the hunting trail. Based on the way the trees fell and the direction he knew the meteor had been traveling, John turned and steered the snowmobile off the trail to follow the flattened trees deeper into the woods. After a few hundred feet he realized that the undergrowth was too dense to take the snowmobile any further. He didn’t want to steer it down the cleared meteor path either, in case there were meteorite fragments on the surface of the snow that the machine would crush or bury.
John climbed off and grabbed the backpack that came with the snowmobile rental. He knew it contained a compass, some water, and a first aid kit. He would only go a little farther he told himself.
The snow was deep but not so deep that it covered his rented boots. He was in pretty good shape and it wasn’t hard to tramp along. John felt invigorated. The woods were silent but after enduring the throbbing snowmobile engine noise, it was peaceful despite his crunching footsteps. The sun was low in the sky and cast a beautiful luminosity over the frozen landscape. The blown-down trees created a barrier, almost like a wall, between him and the deeper woods. John took a breath and then puffed it out, feeling satisfied with himself as he watched the white mist dissipate.
It took him a moment to recognize that the second puff of breath he’d heard hadn’t come from him.
When he did realize that another creature was breathing near him, he was not afraid, at first. He turned to see and then he was very afraid. Standing just a few yards to his left, in between the tall trees, was a thing of nightmares. A humanoid torso sprouted from a horse’s back. It was draped in a tattered cloak that obscured its face with dense shadow. Pale fingers with long, sharp fingernails dangled from wiry, withered arms. Its equine legs were thin and black. The cloak rippled in an invisible wind and in the murky shadow of the creature’s face, John could see one pale, violet eye glowing.
It was a being straight out of his grandmother’s fairy tales. A todorat. John fell back a step. It was impossible, he thought. Someone on horseback must be playing a trick. But the proportions were wrong and there was definitely no horse head in sight. The creature’s shape under the cloak was skeletal and upright. He took another step back.
The todorat stomped and the ground shook. John staggered as an echo rattled the tree branches. It stomped again and let out an aggressive hissing noise.
John began to slowly back up. He tried to remember the story. Did todorats eat people? Did they have magic powers? If he could just reach the snowmobile, he could probably outrun it. He started taking bigger backward steps. The todorat stayed in the same spot and watched him. As soon as the trees obscured it from sight, he turned and broke into a sprint. John ran so fast he felt like his heart was going to burst. He reached the snowmobile and risked a glance over his shoulder. The creature wasn’t in sight.
He climbed on the machine, started the engine, and reversed it out of the woods. Back on the trail he shot one last glance through the trees and thought he caught a glimpse of the tall, cloaked figure, still watching him. He gunned the engine and sped off. He didn’t see the second beast step forward to stand beside the first. When the red bolt of pure magic shot through the trees and stopped his heart, he didn’t feel a thing as he died.

Chapter 5
We found Uncle Alex in the living room with Grandpa Basil. They were watching the news coverage of the meteor streaking across the sky over Russia. The commentators were talking about damages on the ground; it sounded like a lot of broken windows. One shot of a large hole in the