Vasya plopped on the couch and turned to Mira. The doll seemed completely unruffled by their plan to invade the Underworld.
“He’s doing it to help you. It’s not just about your Mom. I have a radar for that kind of thing. I’m supposed to know who is safe for you, and who isn’t.” Vasya yawned again. “Is there any food?”
Mira groaned and hid her face in her knees, folding in half.
While Vasya was walking around the room, picking up trinkets and blabbering, Mira sat on the couch trying not to stare at the kitchen door. Then it opened, and her Mom stepped out. She held a package - a long object wrapped in another of those Ukrainian towels. Kosh stepped out after her. He looks dreadful: pale, as if several years older, his eyes sunken and red-rimmed. His left hand was bandaged, including the wrist, with a splint around the middle and the ring fingers.
“We’re ready to go.” Yana was all business, and then her eyes fell on Vasya. “Hello. Are you the doll?”
Vasya jumped to their feet and nodded. For the first time that Mira had seen the doll, Vasya looked intimidated and eager to please.
“Hoziayushka,” Vasya mumbled and lowered their head.
Yana turned around and looked at Janice who stood in the doorframe.
“Thank you, Janice.”
The eyes of the two women met, and the nurse nodded.
“If I had a daughter, I’d do the same. I’d sacrifice anything,” Janice said, and Yana threw a quick look at Kosh.
He tucked himself on the couch armrest, and sat, his eyes closed, his face exhausted.
“Could we ask for four travel mugs of coffee, before we go?” Yana asked Janice. “And then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Janice nodded and left for the kitchen.
“Kosh, shouldn’t you— you know, take a bath?” Mira asked Bessemer in a whisper, and he slowly opened his eyes.
A small smile touched his lips. He shook his head.
“We can’t. We need me to... bleed.”
Mira gasped, and he gave a nonchalant wave of his healthy hand. “It’s OK. You know the Russians idiom? ‘It’ll heal before the wedding.’”
Mira cut her eyes to Yana, and saw that she’d taken Vasya aside and was whispering something into their ear.
“What’s going on?” Mira asked.
At that moment Janice showed up with travel mugs, and Yana began ushering everyone out. In no time they all were in Kosh’s car again.
***
“I think I want to be a girl,” Vasya announced when the car was picking up speed, leaving Carman.
That was the first sentence anyone had said in the half an hour since they’d gotten in the car. Yana was driving now, Kosh seemingly sleeping in the passenger seat.
“Cool,” Mira answered absentmindedly.
“Yeah, I’m kind of enjoying being a person, and I like your gender more. You seem… tougher.”
Vasya settled back into the seat, seemingly satisfied with this conversation, and Mira turned away to her window. She didn’t feel tough at all.
Something felt off in the plan. Now, that she was finally left alone with her thoughts, she was putting things together - and something didn’t add up.
“Mom, what will happen to me once I get the feather?” she asked.
Yana threw a quick look over her shoulder, and then her eyes were back on the road.
“The Firebirds were the embodiment of light, of warmth. They were naturally good, kind, compassionate. The feather makes you feel intense love and empathy. It boosts whatever is good in you. And that is incompatible with what Yadviga wants to foster in you. Basically, it’ll simply be too hard for her to corrupt you. The feather will also make your magic stronger. It’ll help you absorb the magic around you. In your case you’ll probably get all of your great grandmother’s magic. If we’re right, and they are channeling it into you, of course.”
“But wouldn’t it make me basically into a… witch? I mean, isn’t it what Yadviga wants?” Mira leaned ahead between the front seats and peered at her Mom’s profile.
“I don’t know what Kosh had time to explain to you, but it’s not that simple. The magic isn't branded as good or bad, natural or unnatural. It’s all about how you use it. It’s about choices you make. Even with all of the old Yaga’s magic, you will still be you, as long as you… don’t betray yourself.” Yana’s voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “And the feather will help you. It’ll lead you to the light. You will just have to listen to it, OK? Promise me, solnyshko, promise me you’ll listen.”
“I will, Mom, but you’re going to help me, right?” Mira asked, feeling suddenly scared. “Mom?”
“Of course, I will,” Yana answered lightly. “I’ll always be there for you. When you need me.”
“Can you drive any slower, Krapiva?”
Kosh’s grumble broke the sudden tension Mira felt in the car; she exhaled sharply and looked at him. Why did Mira have a feeling that he waited just for the right moment to speak up to save her Mom from this conversation?
“I’m driving the best this truck goes,” Yana answered in an irritated tone. “Why would you even have this monstrosity?”
“Best they had in a rental place in the airport. And it’s fine with me. Not everyone is a petrol head such as you.”
He laughed softly. Mira gawked at the two of them. Her mom wasn’t a ‘petrol head’ - Mira knew the expression from Top Gear. Yana didn’t even like to drive.
“Did you know your mom was a St. Petersburg Junior Rally champion?” Kosh drew out, apparently guessing the reason for Mira’s shocked staring.
“That was before I became environmentally conscious,” Yana interrupted him, and threw him a dark glance. “And you could have gotten a Hybrid. You, with your talk about connection to Mother Earth, and magic in organic veggies,” she added sarcastically, and he lifted hands in a fake defensive gesture.
“Alright, alright, next time I’m only coming in a Tesla. Happy?”
He laughed, but Yana’s face remained solemn.
“Yeah, next time,” she muttered, and went back to her concentrated driving.
Mira retreated into her seat and picked up her coffee mug.
***
It’d started to rain. Confusion Corner looked just as always: the lights were reflected in the wet asphalt, and there was a small traffic jam on Pembina, before Osbourne. It took them awhile to find a parking spot on a side street.
Mira followed her Mom, who was walking in front in her usual fast and decisive way, the long parcel with the staff in her hand. Kosh was behind Mira, Vasya shuffling after him.
“There!” Kosh exclaimed and pointed at something ahead of them.
Mira looked at the small building of Money Mart, with its ‘Payday Loans’ sign, and a tiny parking lot near it.
“Yeah, I can feel it too,” Yana confirmed.
She quickly crossed Corydon and Pembina - it seemed the traffic lights were switching under her glare - and the rest of them followed.
There were no windows in the back wall of the building. Before Mira questioned whether there were cameras, Yana passed a small sachet to Vasya, who scattered some twigs and dry berries around herself in a wide fanning gesture. She murmured something under her breath, and then beckoned all of them to step into the semicircle she’d drawn. Mira noticed that Kosh leaned into the wall, as if he were too tired to stand straight.
Yana unwrapped the parcel. The thing inside looked like a magical staff from some fantasy movie: made of black wood, twisted, and covered in lumps. One end was thicker, which made it look a bit like a caveman club as well, and it was also long. When Yana put its skinny end on the ground, the other end reached her temple.
Yana knelt by the wall and started whispering something. The more she whispered, the heavier Kosh was leaning into the wall, and then he slumped down, his coat scraping on the paint. Mira jerked towards him, but Vasya grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
“No, you need to let him bleed. It’s h
is blood that’s opening the door.”
Yana finished her chanting, and carefully rested the top end of the cane against the wall. And then Mira saw the small trickle of blood that was connecting Kosh’s left hand, passively lying on the ground, to the bottom of the staff.
“Go, Yarina,” Kosh whispered.
Yana moved towards the staff, but then turned around and knelt in front of Kosh. Her eyes roamed his face.
“I… don’t know what to say,” she murmured. She then cupped his face. “Kosh...”
“See you soon, ptichka,” he said and smiled at her tenderly. “Very soon.”
Yana opened her mouth, then closed it, and quickly leaned in and kissed his left cheek. She whispered something in Russian into his ear, got up, and squared her shoulders.
“Give me your hand, Mira,” Yana ordered, and Mira obeyed, her eyes still on Kosh.
Yana bent down, and suddenly dove under the cane. The space under it was hardly big enough to squeeze in. Mira opened her mouth to ask, but Yana was pulling at her hand. And then Mira realized that Yana hadn’t appeared on the other side of the cane.
“Go, go,” Vasya urged her. “I’ll keep watch.”
“But Kosh—” Mira mumbled, but Vasya just softly pushed her towards the cane.
Mira dove after Yana. Suddenly she was in a complete darkness - and then she seemed to open her eyes.
They were standing in a large round room. The walls were black, as if cut out of solid rock - and in the center of it there was a door. Just a door. Nothing else: no hinges, no frame. Just a door that stood on its own. It was black, as if made of the same rock as the wall, and it had a large brass handle, shaped like a raven’s claw, with a large ball resting on its palm. The ball was milky white.
“Is that the entrance to the next room?” Mira asked quietly, and Yana nodded.
She let go of Mira’s hand and walked up to the door.
“When I came here, the room was full of… monsters. I’m glad to see we were right, and they’re gone.” Yana emitted a nervous laugh. “I fought them off then. But then again, I had magic. The doors should open because I’m… well, his Destined, so there’s a connection between me and his essence that is still in the cage. But if I fail, we’ll have to drag him with us through the rooms. His blood should open these too.”
Mira felt nauseous from how business-like Yana sounded.
“Mom, is he going to be OK?” Mira’s voice was trembling.
Yana threw her a quick look.
“If we don’t stay here for too long, yes.”
Mira could see Yana was worried too. She was clenching and clenching her fists, which was a sure giveaway.
“Let’s go,” Yana muttered and placed her hand on the ball.
She then sucked air sharply through her teeth, and in the depth of the white of the ball, Mira saw a few streaks of crimson swirling as if in a glass of milk.
“Mom!”
“Stay where you are,” Yana commanded. “It’s OK. It’s just basically a DNA test. To make sure I’m allowed in.”
The lock in the door clicked, and it slowly opened. Where the door was a second ago, there was now a black rectangular, like a black silk sheet hanging straight in the air.
Yana stretched her hand to Mira again.
“C’mon! We don’t have much time.”
***
The same repeated in each room. Mira counted them silently. Her heart as if stopped every time a door opened, and they had to pass through and into the blackness of the next room. She’d hold her breath and follow Yana, who firmly held her hand.
The rooms were all empty, and they felt empty. Nothing rustled in the darkness. Mira remembered how the darkness on the highway felt, with the shishiga in it. Here, there was just dust, and in a couple rooms there were bones by the wall. Mira couldn’t know for sure, but they didn’t look human. In the room third to the last there was something black on the floor, some sort of soft, as if oily dust. It stuck to Mira’s boots.
“What’s that?” Mira whispered to Yana.
“It’s soot. It’s harmless.” Yana answered, already busy with the next door.
This room had a damp smell to its air. To think of it, the previous rooms didn’t smell like anything. The air was clean and cool - totally neutral.
In the last room, there was no door. In its center Mira saw a large trunk. It looked old and solid, with metal bars clamped around it, and a large hanging lock.
And a shining golden feather sitting in the keyhole.
Chapter 9. Baba Yaga
The feather was beautiful, but didn’t look like anything special. Basically, it looked like a very nicely crafted Christmas decoration. There was no strange light, or ambience. Mira didn’t get any goosebumps, and no sixth sense woke up.
Yana let go of Mira’s hand, placed her palm on Mira’s shoulder, and softly pushed her towards it.
“Take it, honey. It’ll wake up once you touch it. And don’t be afraid. It’s pure and kind.”
Yana’s voice was soft, and Mira made the first step in.
And then something rustled behind them. And suddenly the room was full of people, and they were moving, there were noises, and Yana screamed.
Mira twirled on her heels, and rushed to her mother, who was trying to free herself of a vourdalak who had wrapped around her. Mira recognised the shimmering hunched form and the spikes on the back.
“Miroslava!” a loud female voice came, commanding and harsh.
Mira whipped her head and stared at who was - indubitably - her grandmother, Yadviga Krapiva.
To be honest, Mira hadn’t given Yadviga much thought in the last three days. The woman was sort of a vague menace in Mira’s mind, a boogie-man. But still, the last thing Mira expected was an elegant woman of indeterminable age, in a floor length white fur coat, with sleeves down to her elbows, white leather gloves covering her hands and forearms, and with diamond jewellery twinkling around her throat and wrists.
Yadviga was definitely Mira’s relative. She had the same high cheekbones, the narrow turn-up nose, and the same freckles scattered across her pale skin. Her snow white hair was cut and styled in an elegant bob. Her lipstick was red and applied perfectly.
There were two more vourdalaks in the room. One was holding Vasya who was wrestling and hissing in Russian. Another had dragged an unconscious Kosh in. The only other human in the room was a tall, dark haired man, with a narrow tanned face. His temples were white, and there was some silver in his goatee. Most of all, he reminded Mira of Doctor Strange from the Marvel comics. He was dressed in a black three piece suit, a red tie, and a long black coat. He also wore gloves, glossy and black. Judging by his almost Asian look, it was, most likely, Solovei the Robber - a fairy tale Tatar nightingale spirit - and probably Mira’s grandfather.
Yadviga made a step forward and spoke in Russian. And then Mira heard a ghastly hissing whisper in her mind. This voice was male, disembodied, and hollow. Mira looked around, but no one’s lips moved.
“Miroslava, step away from the trunk,” the voice rustled in her head. “If you try to take the feather, they will die.”
Mira looked at her mother in panic. Yana was still struggling weakly in the vourdalak’s paws. She caught Mira’s gaze and pointed at the trunk with her eyes.
The voice slithered into Mira’s mind again. “No heroic acts, please.”
Mira took a step backwards, and then Vasya suddenly leaped out of the vourdalak’s grasp and jumped at Yadviga.
A pale pampered hand flew up and locked around Vasya’s throat.
“Miroslava,” Yadviga spoke. She pronounced something else in Russian, and the voice in Mira’s head translated, “Perhaps you need a demonstration.”
Mira watched in terror how Vasya gulped air with her open mouth, again and again, and then her eyes rolled back. The scariest was that while Yadviga’s hand was tightening its grip, not a muscle moved in her face.
And then a shudder ran through Vasya’s body, and she twitche
d, her feet suddenly off the ground. Mira couldn’t tear her eyes away, watching Vasya's body as if shrivel - and then she realized that it indeed was shrinking! And then sand and straw suddenly poured on the floor, and all that was left was the same small empty cloth shell in Yadviga’s hand that Mira had been carrying with her.
The witch threw it aside, her face still expressionless. She then pulled a handkerchief out of her coat’s sleeve and wiped her gloved hand.
“The man will be next, Miroslava,” the voice translated Yadviga’s next calm words.
Mira met her eyes. They were of the same shape as Mira’s and her Mom’s: slanted, cat-like. Yadviga’s were pale blue, and not greenish hazel like Mira’s.
“Mira, get the feather!” Yana cried out, and Mira jolted on the spot.
Suddenly the man in the suit pulled out a long dagger out of his coat, moved in one fluid swift movement, and stopped next to Kosh. The blade was white.
“It’s a knife made of a horse bone, Miroslava.” This time the voice was alone, and Mira realized that this whole time it had been the man speaking. His lips still didn’t move. “I’m sure you've been explained that only a horse can bring the death to Koschei the Deathless.”
The vourdalak near Kosh bent down, grabbed him, and hoisted him up, holding him under his arms.
“It is quite simple, child,” Yadviga spoke through the man again. “You leave with us, and I let your mother and the man live.”
Yana shouted something to Yadviga in Russian, but the whole time it seemed that Mira was the only person Yadviga even noticed - or deemed worthy of acknowledging.
“I’m not a monster, Miroslava.”
Yadviga made a dismissive wave of her hand with the handkerchief and neatly folded it.
“You’ve just killed Vasya,” Mira answered in a small voice.
Yaga's Blood (Root and Myth Book 1) Page 10