Chapter 14

"We have no quarrel with you or your mistress," Yvan told the Red Rider, and Anya dared peek over his broad shoulder.

"You have been summoned nonetheless, Yvan Tsarevich. She doesn"t like to be kept waiting. I"ve been instructed to take you by force if necessary."

Yvan bowed. "Lead the way. We would be honored to meet your mistress."

The Red Rider steered his horse in the opposite direction. "Don"t even think of running. The Black Rider is waking in the woods, and he isn"t as polite as I am."

Yvan tightened his grip on her hand. "Anya, please tell me you know who Baba Yaga is?"

She did. And she had no intention of ending up in a soup pot.

Anya had never seena house uglier than Baba Yaga"s. It was made entirely of moldy bones in the same interlocking design as a log cabin. A thorny garden grew as high as the fence, and skulls, bleached white by the sun, capped each fence post. Two enormous, scaly chicken legs covered in lichen appeared on either side of the house.

Anya snorted in amusement and disgust. Yvan, she noticed, had turned an attractive shade of gray.

Be brave, Anya. Or be angry. Anya pushed her fear down and hung onto her anger. "Come on, let"s get this over with."

"You should be more afraid," Yvan muttered.

Anya was afraid, but she wasn"t going to show it. In her experience, anger was always better when dealing with bullies.

"Why would I be afraid of a shitty old house and a gnarly old witch?" Anya shouted.

"By all means, do come in, loud-mouthed girl," a voice called out to them.

The gate and the door to the house silently opened for them. The smell of rotting meat reached Anya"s nose, making her gag.

"No, thanks," Anya replied before adding quietly to Yvan, "I know the stories. If we go in there, we won"t ever come out."

Baba Yaga appeared in the garden. She looked Anya up and down with beady black eyes. She had messy gray hair, a wrinkled face, and an iron-toothed smile. Cold pressure built behind Anya"s eyes, and she fought the sensation, thinking of the firebird"s heat melting it away. After dealing with Tuoni and Vasilli, she wasn"t about to let another compulsion spell hit her. The old witch shuddered once, and the pressure stopped.

"Ah, Yanka, I thought you were still dead. I should have known it was you in my vision," Baba Yaga cackled.

"Sorry to disappoint, but my name isn"t Yanka," Anya said firmly. Yanka. The name sounded so familiar, but Anya couldn"t place it.

Baba Yaga made a frustrated growl in the back of her throat. "A bloodline brat, are you? I heard Yanka had crossed to Mir and bred with a filthy human to have Ilya. And here"s her weak spawn, in the company of Vyslav"s son and a firebird."

Yvan opened his mouth, but Baba Yaga held up her hand to stop him. "Don"t even bother to deny it. I can smell the bird"s magic from here."

"What do you want?" Anya asked, her mind churning over the name of Ilya"s mother. She groped for a memory of Eikki telling her about Yanka but came up with nothing. She rubbed at her head, something shuddering in her mind. Tuoni"s magic tore away another piece of whatever spell Eikki had put on her. Yanka. She could feel the answer close, but something stopped her from reaching it.

"Yanka"s blood. What makes you think you can give me what I want?" Baba Yaga said, clicking her tongue to get Anya"s attention again. Her eyes sparkled. "As it happens, I have something you want."

"I doubt it."

"You"ve no idea who you are and what powers you have," the witch said. "I could tell you. I could show you."

"For what price," Yvan said.

"It"s cheap for knowledge of her magic and destiny," Baba Yaga said with a gray smile. "I want Yanka"s rune stones."

"I"d rather not know who I am. Ignorance seems like bliss," Anya lied, hoping the witch would get bored and let them go.

"What about if you give us the directions we need?" Yvan asked. "As beautiful as it is, we want to leave your forest."

The witch scratched her nose. "For the stones?"

"It"s a different thing we bargain for, witch, and it has a different cost."

"What do you offer?" Baba Yaga still hadn"t taken her hungry eyes off Anya, which annoyed her. She remembered what Yvan said about the Powers wanting to use her and moved closer to him.

"How about a feather from the firebird?" Yvan suggested. "You know what it could be used for, and it is over-paying for simple directions."

"Where do you wish to go so desperately, Yvan Tsarevich?" the old witch asked, rubbing her hands together.

"We want a straight passage through Skazki. One which doesn"t involve getting waylaid by any of the Powers," Yvan replied.

"I don"t know all the ways of the Otherworlds, but I have an item in my possession that does." Baba Yaga grunted. "You better make it a good feather, princeling." She turned and went back into the cottage.

"I hope you know what you"re doing. I don"t think we can trust her," Anya whispered.

"Not even for a second," he replied, and Anya turned as he started taking his clothes off so he wouldn"t destroy them.

Yvan whimpered as the transformation began, and Anya turned just as he burst into flames. The firebird let out a joyful cry as it launched up into the sky. It floated through the air, dancing on the wind like a kite of fire.

"I never would"ve believed it if I hadn"t seen it," Baba Yaga said as she exited the cottage again. "Two creatures sharing the same body is tricky, especially when one is more powerful than the other. The firebird will get frustrated and try to take over. People will come after it, wanting its magic, including Yvan"s idiot brother. You"re better off letting Yvan go off on his own and staying here to become my pupil."

"Is that what Yanka did?" Anya asked.

The old witch spat on the ground before answering. "She should have. She had too much power in her that she didn"t know what to do with. I heard she blew herself up." She grunted again. "The magic isn"t as strong in Mir, so it was a waste. Yanka never had enough sense to know what was good for her."

"Perhaps the magic here got to be too much for her, and in Mir, she could live more normally," Anya replied.

"Why the fuck would you want to be normal when you could be extraordinary? I suppose it would explain why you are such an untrained, bad-mannered nuisance," Baba Yaga replied. Her expression grew sly. "You will have the same problem. The magic will consume you if you don"t learn how to control it. You look like her, you know. Yanka. The same eyes, same white hair. Same magic, I wonder?" She stretched a bony hand to touch it, but Anya sidestepped her.

"I don"t think so. I only learned I had magic a few days."

"They probably didn"t want to train you in case you were another rotten apple. You should stay here and let me protect you. Let the prince go. He doesn"t have the power to look after you."

Anya blinked, cold probing behind her eyes again. She slammed it back, popping her ears.

"Stop it. Stay out of my head," Anya said, clutching at the pressure in her skull. "Yvan didn"t leave me behind, and I won"t leave him."

The old witch"s smirk disappeared. "He"s already clouding your judgment, foolish child. I can"t believe Yanka produced such an idiot." The cold vanished from her head, and Anya inhaled a painful breath.

The firebird cried out in warning and landed softly on the ground beside her. It ruffled itself up and selected a feather before pulling it out. It screeched angrily, and Yvan pushed his way back through, feathers melting back into his skin until he was naked and shaking, clutching the feather in his hand.

Anya handed him back his clothes, and he dragged them on slowly, his body obviously sore from the transformation. The firebird tattoo moved back into place, and Yvan held out the feather to Baba Yaga. In return, she passed him a round leather bag the size of a small plate.

"Cast Raidho from Yanka"s runes on the drum, ask it for guidance, and it will show you the way," Baba Yaga said, tucking the feather into a fold in her robes. "There"s a village not far from here. I suggest you get there as quickly as possible. If you are still in my forest come nightfall, I"ll get my Black Rider to kill you." Baba Yaga looked Anya over again and spat a ball of phlegm into the dirt. "Until our next meeting, shamanitsa."

Vasilli had searchedthe forest for Yvan around the farm without success until his minions had called to him, confirming that both he and the girl lived, no doubt with the firebird"s help. In his haste to get into Skazki, his horse had tripped over a rotting log and broke its leg. He had liked his horse, but he still cut its throat and continued on foot.

Vischto trotted beside him. "There"s a camp up ahead with a horse you can use."

"Good. Make a distraction," Vasilli commanded. He stopped outside the camp to watch and wait. The Red Rider was cooking by a fire, and Vasilli grinned. A horse and a chance to piss off Baba Yaga at the same time? The day was looking better and better.

Vischto"s howl broke through the still night, and Vasilli rushed into the camp, grabbing the Rider"s spear and driving it deep into his gullet.

"Not again," the Rider mumbled, sagging into the dirt.

"Give the witch my thanks," Vasilli said, twisting the spear in further.

The Rider coughed out a bloody laugh. "You"ll be able to thank her yourself."

Vasilli ignored the threat, pulled himself into the saddle, and disappeared into the night. He could sense the firebird"s magic close. If he hurried, he would have them by dawn.