ON MY LONG WALK TO PETR’S, I KEPT A KEEN EYE OUT FOR MOVEMENT OF ANY KIND OR SIGNS THAT SOMEONE MIGHT BE WATCHING ME. I SAW ONLY BLUE SKY AND THE QUIET blanket of snow that covered everything.

I passed near the crest of the hill that Polina and I sledded down. I wanted so badly to slide or roll down it or to play in the snow, but thought to myself, No, you’re a partisan now. Partisans don’t make snow angels on their way to meet their group leaders. It filled me with a sense of purpose and determination.

I knocked once on Petr’s door, just as Polina had done yesterday morning. There was no answer. Stepping back to see if smoke was coming from the chimney, I saw there was none. I looked around, uncertain what to do, when I saw one of the curtains that covered the front windows move slightly.

The door creaked open, although I couldn’t see anyone behind it. I slipped quickly into the cottage.

“Wrong knock.” It was Petr’s voice. Like the last time I was there, my eyes had to adjust to the dim light before I could make out his face. “One knock is for a meeting. One knock, count to three, then two knocks means ‘I have to talk to you.’”

“I’ll get Polina to teach me the others.”

“Good. What do you have to tell me?” He lit a long pipe, and I sat down in a rough wooden chair near him. I began my story about how Zasha had come to Galina’s door, of Axel and his bodyguards, of Thor, of playing music for them, and of Axel’s decision to take me to headquarters. I poured out as many details as I could remember about the guns, other weapons, and soldiers I’d seen. I even told him about sleeping with the dogs, and about the soldier outside the building who’d stopped me from walking them.

“You’re brave,” he said simply. It was an unexpected compliment from a man I guessed didn’t give them out often.

“Thank you.”

“Once you’re in their territory, your options are limited.”

“What do you mean?” A little ripple of anxiety shivered through me.

He shrugged. “If they go to your house, catch you on the road, you can run, or at least try. If you’re in their camp, well, you’re their prisoner even if they haven’t put the handcuffs on yet.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“What did you learn of Major Recht?” Petr had an intense way of looking at you, like he knew your words before you spoke them.

“He seems to be in charge of everything. He speaks perfect Russian; his guards don’t speak any. He seems very smart and …”

“And what?”

“Cruel. It was nothing he did exactly. I just saw it in him. He tries to hide it, though.”

“What does a twelve-year-old boy know about such things?”

“I saw it. It passes over his face in an instant, even less.”

Petr nodded slightly as he lit his pipe again. “Axel Werner Siegfried Recht was, until recently, a lieutenant colonel in the German army. He was demoted when his superior officer found out Axel was spending a great deal of time with the officer’s wife.”

“So you know of him! But why would they send a colonel to little Vilnov? It’s not like we’re Moscow or Leningrad.”

“I think that’s the point exactly. He’s being punished.”

“Oh. How did you know all of this?”

“Information is power. Any bit of news or even rumor a partisan hears he passes along. You’d be amazed what we know.”

“Like what?”

“Like what I just told you about Recht. We know other things. For instance, he likes whips. In fact, he’s an expert with a whip.”

Something deep inside of me was so repelled by the thought that my stomach contracted as if I’d just seen a snake. Using a whip was different from using a gun. It seemed to me you had to enjoy inflicting pain to use a whip.

“I didn’t see one,” I said, my mouth feeling dry. “How do you … how do you defend yourself against someone with a whip?”

“I don’t think you do. And they say the pain is …” Petr must have realized how his words were affecting me because he changed the subject. “Why has he let you go?”

“He hasn’t. I’m supposed to be back at noon. I don’t know what will happen after that. He even gave me a letter,” I said with a little laugh, “so that if another one of his men stops me or wants to shoot me, they’ll know I have his permission to be there.”

Petr stood up very straight and leaned toward me. “Do you have the letter with you?”

I nodded, unbuttoned the upper left pocket of my coat where I’d put it for safekeeping, and handed him the folded letter. He took it over to the window where, although the curtains were drawn, there was a little more light.

“Oh my God,” he muttered, and he looked up at me, his eyes burning with excitement. “Do you know what this means?”

“Yes, that I can go there again, and —”

“It means we have official Wehrmacht letterhead and a copy of the seal and signature of a high-ranking officer!”

“Let me see!” I peered over his arm as he read it a second time. I hadn’t even looked at it when Axel gave it to me. His handwriting was even and precise. The letterhead had the insignia of the double eagle. Beneath it in an almost medieval-looking print were several lines of German I couldn’t read, except for an address in Berlin.

“What does it say, Petr?”

He shook his head. “My German is poor, but it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can get Yeshka to copy it —”

“The boy I met at the meeting?”

“Yes, the printer’s son. You see this seal?” I nodded. “It’s carved from hard rubber. Yeshka and his father are so good, they can make a copy of Axel Recht’s personal seal!” He could barely contain his excitement, and kind of shook his head as if he’d just come in from a snowstorm. He must have seen my confusion. “You don’t understand, do you?”

I shook my head.

He held the letter up. “With this letterhead, seal, and signature, the partisans can create other letters full of bad information, wrong directions, impossible orders, anything you can imagine.”

“Oh!” I was starting to get the idea.

“The partisans have lots of uniforms they’ve taken off dead German soldiers. With a uniform, official-looking letterhead, and a seal …” He stopped, a smile spreading across his craggy face. “We can cause the Germans a lot of trouble.”

I felt so proud, so grateful that I’d been able to provide something useful to the partisans.

“When did you say you have to be back there?”

“Noon.”

He folded the letter and slipped it in his shirt pocket. “We’re going to go see Yeshka and his father now. There’s no time to lose.”