Vita Nostra

Vita Nostra
Julia Meitov Hersey

Sergey Dyachenko

Marina Dyachenko

Our life is brief . . .The definitive English language translation of the internationally best-selling Russian novel – a brilliant dark fantasy combining psychological suspense, enchantment, and terror that makes us consider human existence in a fresh and provocative way.‘A book that has the potential to become a modern classic.’Lev Grossman, best-selling author of The MagiciansOur life is brief . . .While on holiday at the beach with her mother, Sasha Samokhina meets the mysterious Farit Kozhennikov under the most peculiar circumstances. The teenage girl is powerless to refuse when this strange and unusual man with a sinister air directs her to perform strange and uncomfortable tasks. He rewards her efforts with a strange golden coin.As the days progress, Sasha carries out other acts for which she receives more coins from Kozhennikov. As summer ends, her new domineering mentor directs her to move to a remote village and use her gold to enter the Institute of Special Technologies. Though she does not want to go to this unknown town or university, she also feels that somehow it’s the only place she should be. Against her mother’s wishes, Sasha leaves behind all that is familiar and begins her education.As she quickly discovers, the institute’s ‘special technologies’ are unlike anything she has ever encountered. The books are impossible to read, the lessons maddeningly obscure, and the work refuses memorization. Using terror and coercion to keep the students in line, the school does not punish them for their transgressions and failures; instead, their families pay a terrible price.Yet despite her fear, Sasha undergoes changes that defy the dictates of matter and time; experiences which are nothing she has ever dreamed of… and suddenly all she could ever want.A complex blend of adventure, magic, science, and philosophy, filtered through a distinct Russian sensibility, this astonishing work – brilliantly translated by Julia Meitov Hersey – is reminiscent of modern classics such as Lev Grossman’s The Magicians, Max Barry’s Lexicon, and Katherine Arden’s The Bear and the Nightingale, but will transport them to a place fantastical and new.

Copyright (#u156e426f-1e54-5e77-81ad-da4415abfe87)

HarperVoyager

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2018

Copyright © Marina and Sergey Dyachenko 2018

Translation © Julia Meitov Hersey 2018

Cover photography © Josephine Cardin/Trevillion Images (women)

Cover design by Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Marina and Sergey Dyachenko assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008272852

Ebook Edition © November 2018 ISBN: 9780008272876

Version: 2018-09-27

Dedication (#u156e426f-1e54-5e77-81ad-da4415abfe87)

To our daughter, Anastasia

Contents

Cover (#ufd15ea87-18fb-5c0c-961d-a0ccccdd0095)

Title Page (#u8fe7179c-f820-5106-8aa7-fef34d3a8892)

Copyright

Dedication

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

About the Publisher

PART ONE (#u156e426f-1e54-5e77-81ad-da4415abfe87)

The prices—oh, the prices were simply ludicrous! In the end, Mom rented a tiny room in a five-story building twenty minutes from the shore, with windows facing west. The other room in the one-bedroom apartment was occupied by a young couple, with whom they would have to share the kitchen, bathroom, and toilet. “Those two are on the beach the whole day,” reasoned the landlady. “They are young … They don’t need much. The sea is right there, you can almost see it out of your window. Pure paradise.”

The landlady departed, leaving behind two keys: one for the main entrance and one for the door to their room. Sasha dug her faded, last year’s swimsuit from the bottom of the suitcase and changed quickly in the bathroom, where someone else’s underwear was drying on the space heater. She felt joyful and giddy: just a few more minutes, and hello sea, here we come. Waves, salt on her lips, deep khaki-colored water—all that was forgotten during the long winter. Transparent water changing the color of her skin to yellow-white. Swimming toward the horizon, feeling the sea glide over her stomach and back, then diving deep down, staring at the rocks on the bottom, seaweed and tiny speckled fish …

“Should we eat first?” Mom asked.

She was exhausted by the long trip in the stuffy economy class seats, the apartment search, negotiations with potential landlords—none of it was easy.

“But, Mom … we came to spend time at the beach.”

Mom lay down on a couch, a pack of fresh linen under her head substituting for a pillow.

“Want me to run down and get some doughnuts?” Sasha aimed to be a dutiful daughter.

“We’re not going to live on doughnuts here. We have a decent kitchen.”

“Can’t I at least take one little dip?”

“Fine.” Mom closed her eyes. “Get some eggs and yogurt on the way back. Oh, and bread, and some butter.”

Not hesitating—lest her mother change her mind—Sasha threw a sundress over the swimsuit, slid her feet into a pair of sandals, grabbed a beach bag and one of the towels provided by the landlady, and ran outside, into the sunshine.

She had no proper names for the blossoming trees that grew in the yard, but decided to call them “peacock trees.” Behind the unevenly trimmed bushes began the street that led to the shore. Sasha decided it was going to be called just that—the Street That Leads to the Sea. The street sign bore the real name, but it was plain and insignificant. It happened so often—beautiful things had stupid names, and the other way around.

Swinging her bag, she walked—no, ran—down the street. People moved in a thick throng, some carrying inflatable mattresses and large sun umbrellas, others burdened only with a beach bag. Children, as expected, were covered by melting ice cream, and their mothers scolded them, wiping faces and shirts with their crumpled handkerchiefs. The sun had toppled over the zenith and now hung above the distant mountains, choosing a place to land. A languid smile on her lips, Sasha walked toward the sea, hot asphalt burning through the soles of her sandals.

They’d made it.