Chapter One
The Cruel Countess
My boots crunched through the snow frozen on the ground, now mostly a white mantle of ice left over from a freak snowstorm in northeast Siberia during November 2007. Despite the bitter cold, the low precipitation that time of year usually produced no more than flurries. The wind whipped through my clothes, numbing my senses with even more frigid air. My hands and feet turned into popsicles before the big freeze glazed my face and shaved head, penetrating my arms and legs, branching into my torso.
Maybe this time I’d reach the next village, or the big city of Khabarovsk itself, and find sanctuary, warmth, and safety—if the local Russian police overlooked my undeniably Western features. They’d peg me as an American right away. The best I could hope for was t
