Chapter 18

Vasilli had been lost in the cursed forest for days. He sat on the large red horse with his two wolves running behind him, their heads down, wary of their master"s mood. The horse seemed intent on leading him and fighting him every step of the way. He had given up on it, and now the horse was finding its way home.

The Bone Cottage on its chicken legs came into view at nightfall of the fourth day. The old witch stood beside her gate, picking the grime out from under her fingernails with a sliver of bone.

"Baba Yaga, so this is your doing," Vasilli growled.

"This is my forest, Vasilli. I know everything that goes on in it, even if you are arrogant enough to think you can cross through my lands without me noticing," she replied, black eyes flashing with menace. "The forest thinks for itself. Perhaps it didn"t want to let you go straight away. I believe that horse belongs to me too."

"And has the forest produced anything of interest lately?" Vasilli asked, changing his tone to be almost friendly. He didn"t have the power to take on Baba Yaga. Not yet.

"Nothing worth mentioning. Why? Have you lost something?"

"Indeed, I have. Two very good friends of mine have gone astray, and I wish to find them."

Baba Yaga looked up at him and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Byk der"mo, Vasilli. I know whom you seek, and I know they are not good friends of yours. It must be hard for you to have lost your brother again, especially now that he"s with Ilya"s blood."

Vasilli snapped. "What business is that of yours, witch?"

Baba Yaga shrugged her bony shoulders. "None, but I"m not the one who is in danger from them. They came seeking help, and being full of stomach and generous of nature, I gave it to them."

Vasilli gripped the leather reins tighter. "Tell me what you gave them, Baba Yaga."

"Nothing of much value," Baba Yaga said, picking at her nails again. "Just directions."

"Where to?"

"Let"s just say I gave them bad directions." She smiled her iron smile. "I"ll tell you which way they went for a trade."

"What do you want?"

"I want my damn horse back! My Rider told me what happened, and I"m not impressed with how you stole from me on my land," Baba Yaga yelled and threw down the bone. Power rushed from her, and Vasilli relented, dismounting and pushing the horse away. It wandered into the yard and nuzzled the old witch.

"Fine. Which way?" he asked.

Baba Yaga looked at the deep cuts in the horse"s flesh where Vasilli had cut it to perform his dark magic.

"They went east," she said through her iron teeth. "You had best hurry, Vasilli, before they fulfill Ilya"s prophecy, heh?"

"Ilya was a stupid, crazy farmer. I don"t give a fuck about anything he said."

"I think you do. You"ve been hunting that firebird long enough. I hope it burns you up until your skin melts and you scream for mercy," Baba Yaga said, stepping into the doorway of her house.

Vasilli smiled, showing too many teeth. "One day, Baba Yaga, I"m going to kill you."

"You may keep dreaming, little wolf, but I know what blood flows in your veins, and if she couldn"t kill me, you certainly have no chance." She clapped her hands, and the house rose on its legs, high enough to drown out Vasilli"s curses.

Two days later,Anya was sick of the rain and no longer noticed how beautiful it made the forest look. She was tired, damp, and cold and was over Yvan"s melancholy company. He became more serious with every step they took. She was getting headaches from her constant nightmares and had the shakes from not having any alcohol in days.

If it wasn"t nightmares terrorizing her, it was dreams of the past she"d lost. The man with the strange eyes and autumn smell was haunting her every time she shut her eyes. He was like a puzzle her mind kept trying to work out and couldn"t come up with a satisfying answer.

Yvan was walking ahead of her with his hood over his head, deep in his thoughts and memories.

"Are you lost?" Anya asked for the third time that day. "I thought you said your friend"s house was only a few days away."

"I"m not lost," Yvan said, his temper barely restrained. "We are close. I know it. Things change in a period of a hundred years. In Skazki, things can change daily if they want to."

The only good thing that had happened was that Vasilli had not caught up to them. Yvan had insisted on them splitting guard shifts every night to keep watch for Vischto and Vischtan. Instead of celebrating their lack of presence, Yvan became more worried with each passing day.

"It"s not right. Vasilli wasn"t that far behind us," he kept muttering until Anya threw one of Eikki"s journals at him and told him to count his blessings.

Now Anya was soaked to the skin and about to suggest they find somewhere dry to camp when Yvan shouted triumph.

"Anya! Quickly, I have found it," he called.

Anya failed to see what he was so excited about. He pointed to an oval block of slate on the side of the road.

"It looks like every other rock we"ve walked past," she said, flicking water from her hood.

"No, this is it. Come on, we are almost there," Yvan replied, taking her hand.

There was barely a track through the woods, and the night was falling fast, but Yvan managed to follow it, and Anya managed to keep her mouth shut and not provoke him.

The track widened out, and in front of them, hidden deep in the forest, was a house built of dark timber. Time had covered it with a light green moss, and it was almost invisible as it blended into the shape of the mountain.

"Well done, Yvan. Let"s hope he"s not dead, huh," Anya said cheerfully.

"He"ll be here," Yvan replied with an odd smile. "He can be temperamental, so please try to behave."

Anya gave him a mock salute. Yvan knocked politely on the heavily carved door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer.

"Yvan, it"s raining so heavily, he probably can"t even hear you," Anya said over the downpour. She stepped forward and beat against the door heavily with her fists before adding a kick for luck. "Hey! Open the goddamn door!"

"You are trying to get me killed, aren"t you?" Yvan groaned.

"If he"s a friend of yours, I"m sure he"ll understand," Anya said as the door opened.

The man on the other side was tall and slender with curly, dark hair. His dark eyes widened with surprise as he looked Anya up and down in a way that made heat rush to her half-frozen face.

The stranger bowed and said in a voice of smoke and honey, "Good evening, Anya. Would you like to come in?"