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"
Czernobog
?
"
asked
Shadow
.
Then
,
"
Are
you
Czernobog
?
"
"
Yes
.
For
today
,
"
said
the
old
man
.
"
By
tomorrow
,
it
will
all
be
Bielebog
.
But
today
,
is
still
Czernobog
.
"
"
Then
why
?
Why
didn
’
t
you
kill
me
when
you
could
?
"
The
old
man
took
out
an
unfiltered
cigarette
from
a
pack
in
his
pocket
.
He
took
a
large
box
of
matches
from
the
mantelpiece
and
lit
the
cigarette
with
a
match
.
He
seemed
deep
in
thought
.
"
Because
,
"
said
the
old
man
,
after
some
time
,
"
there
is
blood
.
But
there
is
also
gratitude
.
And
it
has
been
a
long
,
long
winter
.
"
Shadow
got
to
his
feet
.
There
were
dusty
patches
on
the
knees
of
his
jeans
,
where
he
had
knelt
,
and
he
brushed
the
dust
away
.
"
Thanks
,
"
he
said
.
"
You
’
re
welcome
,
"
said
the
old
man
.
"
Next
time
you
want
to
play
checkers
,
you
know
where
to
find
me
.
This
time
,
I
play
white
.
"
"
Thanks
.
Maybe
I
will
,
"
said
Shadow
.
"
But
not
for
a
while
.
"
He
looked
into
the
old
man
’
s
twinkling
eyes
,
and
he
wondered
if
they
had
always
been
that
cornflower
shade
of
blue
.
They
shook
hands
,
and
neither
of
them
said
goodbye
.
Shadow
kissed
Zorya
Utrennyaya
on
the
cheek
on
his
way
out
,
and
he
kissed
Zorya
Vechernyaya
on
the
back
of
her
hand
,
and
he
took
the
stairs
out
of
that
place
two
at
a
time
.
