Chudo-Yudo laughed, his furry white sides shaking as though the trailer was being rocked by an earthquake. “Where do you think the Baba Yagas come from?” he asked. “Even our Barbara was once merely a Human child with an unusual potential for working magic. Not all such children are found, and some grow up to be adults with serious talent. Most never realize what they can do, but occasionally one figures it out and names herself witch. With enough practice, these Human witches can be quite powerful, although they rarely do anything that draws the attention of a Baba Yaga.”
“And when they do?” Liam asked quietly.
“They usually get eaten,” the dragon-dog said with an impressive display of sharp white teeth. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not.
Barbara ignored her furry companion. “Might we know your name, sprite?” she asked their visitor politely. “And the name of the place from which you come.”
The small man bowed, handing her back the empty goblet with the same gesture. “I am Felixx,” he said. “My home is simply called forest to those who live there. I know not the Human name for it. But I can tell you that something is very wrong there. The magic this witch does has confused the leaves on the trees, some of which are turning color out of season. Neither I nor any of my people have ever known such a thing to happen. Can you help us, Baba Yaga?”
She shrugged her shoulders in a “what can I do?” gesture to Liam. “Of course,” she said to Felixx. “But first we have to figure out where exactly you came from.”
“Maybe this will help,” Liam said, unfolding a map and putting it out on the table in the Airstream’s small kitchenette. Felixx flew over and hovered above it, his wings humming.
“I cannot see my home on this flat paper,” the sprite said, drooping. “These scribbling mean nothing to me.”
“Ah.” Barbara thought for a moment and waved a hand through the air. The map wavered and spread, taking on a three-dimensional aspect, with lakes and rivers tinted blue, and the mountains gold and green. “Is this any better?”
The little man’s face brightened as he fluttered lower. “Yes, I think…there. That big water is near my home.” He pointed one tiny finger at a forested section of the map. “The place of trees by the big water.”
“Hmmm. Cayuga Lake. It looks like maybe our new friend comes from near Aurora.” Barbara wafted the image away.
“That’s not all that far off our path,” Liam said in a hopeful tone. “Maybe we can stop off there on the way, instead of putting the trip off?”
Barbara scowled at nothing in particular, feeling a gnawing sensation in her gut that had more to do with intuition than it did that third cup of coffee. But on the face of it, she could see no reason to argue. It really was practically on their way, only taking them a few miles off their route. And what kind of threat could a Human witch pose to a Baba Yaga? It seemed like a simple matter. Return Felixx to his home, find the witch, tell her to stop doing whatever the hell it was she was doing, fix the damage if necessary, and be back on the road in less time than it would take to stop for lunch.
She had always tried to keep Liam out of Baba Yaga business (except the mess that brought them together in the first place, where it was more or less unavoidable), but he could stay with the Airstream while she dealt with this minor issue, and then they could have their family vacation. Liam and Babs both stared at her with matching neutral expressions, neither of them putting words to the pleas she could see in their eyes.
“Very well,” she said. “Why not?”
Dammit, nothing was going to get in the way of their family vacation.
Chapter Two
Felixx spent most of the trip napping, leaning up against Chudo-Yudo’s wide and furry side in the back seat of the large silver Chevy truck used to pull the Airstream. As with most everything else Barbara owned, it was more magical than not, and actually an extension of the former hut turned trailer, although it could be driven around separately if need be. She often thought that things had been simpler in the Olden Days, when witches and their enchanted houses and dragon companions had no need to hide what they were.
But in the modern era, it was easier to blend in and try not to attract attention. A pity. Barbara thought it was a lot more efficient when the general populous knew who you were and that it was a seriously bad idea to piss you off. Still, she always managed to get the job done anyway, even if she had to teach a few people that lesson from scratch.
As they neared their destination, Felixx woke up and guided them off the main roads to an area that seemed to be a mixture of rustic rural homes and small seasonal camps. Barbara pulled into the broad graveled lot of a campground that was mostly deserted mid-week in late May and turned to the sprite. “Here?” she asked. “This is where you live?”
Felixx chuckled, a sound like water flowing over rocks in a stream. “There,” he said, pointing toward a thicker stand of trees that formed the edge of a forested section. “An hour’s flight or so.” He darted out through the open door as Barbara and the others piled out of the truck, and pointed in the opposite direction, down what looked like a narrow private driveway at the other side of the parking lot. “The Human witch lives down there, but I did not think your shiny metal home would fit easily down the path.”
“Hmm. Good call,” Barbara said. The Airstream would go wherever she wanted it to go, more or less, but it would be easier to walk from here. Besides, she wanted to make sure that Liam was out of range of any stray magic, just to be on the safe side.
“Did you wish to come with me?” she asked Felixx.
The sprite bowed in mid-air. “I would rather return to my family, if you have no further need of me, Baba Yaga. I have been away too long as it is.” Tree sprites were uncomfortable being far from their personal trees for any length of time. This was the reason they couldn’t relocate to the Otherworld along when most of the rest of the Paranormal peoples made their exodus from the lands of Humans. Most sprites lived and died without ever traveling more than a few miles from home, which was why Barbara had taken his request for help so seriously, despite its bad timing.
“I will do my best to resolve this issue,” she said, returning his bow. “Give my regards to your family.”
Felixx nodded again and then flew off in the direction of home. Barbara turned to Liam. “Why don’t you make us some lunch while I deal with this? I doubt it will take long.”
“I’ll help him,” Chudo-Yudo said, pink tongue lolling.
Barbara rolled her eyes. “Try and leave some for the rest of us, you giant bottomless pit. The last time you ‘helped’ Liam with the food prep, there wasn’t actually any food to be seen when you were done.”
“May I come with you?” Babs asked. “I have never met a Human witch before. I would like to see what one is like.” The spark in her bright dark eyes and the way she cocked her head to one side made her look like a curious crow, intrigued by some new shiny object.
Barbara shrugged. She took Babs along on plenty of assignments more dangerous than confronting a witch who probably had no idea what she was doing. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get this over with, so we can get back on the road. I can’t wait to show you the falls.”
Liam tugged on Babs’ hair, and she tugged his back. Barbara got a big hug and a passionate kiss on the lips, which she returned—with interest. Even after more than three years of marriage, she never got tired of Liam’s kisses.
“Hurry back,” he said, just as he did whenever she left for an official Baba Yaga job. He raised her hand and placed his lips gently on the ring he’d given her, a round circle in the shape of a golden dragon with a sparkling diamond held in its mouth. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” she said, with a tiny smile. Traditions must be upheld after all. “But you know I’m going to be right down the road, and we’ll be back in no time.”
“It will seem like forever,” Liam said, clutching at his heart in an exaggerated gesture.
“Oh for t
he love of Chernobog,” Chudo-Yudo growled. “If you’re trying to make me lose my appetite, it’s working.” He nudged Barbara’s leg with his massive white head, almost knocking her off her booted feet. “The sooner you go, the sooner you get back. Yeesh, you two.”
Barbara sighed, the twinkle in her amber eyes hidden by the wild cloud of dark hair that fell in front of them. “Very well,” she said to Babs. “Let’s go see what all the fuss is about, shall we?”
They marched down the road together, although Babs tended to dart ahead to look at something that caught her eye, then straggle as she took a moment to analyze anything new. The path they followed seemed to be a shared driveway or possibly a very narrow back road used by only a few houses, and they walked about a mile before they came to the one they’d been looking for.
They were clearly in the right place, because just as Felixx had said, some of the oak trees had new spring leaves, while others were adorned with bright autumnal colors. A bed of tulips showed off frilled pink flowers under raspberry bushes that shouldn’t have held fruit until the end of summer. The purple berry Barbara popped into her mouth tasted perfectly normal, even if it was growing out of season. Huh.
The house at the end of the road was a small wooden cabin, neat and well kept, with freshly painted white shutters and a plume of smoke rising from its chimney. An extensive herb garden was planted next to it, and Barbara recognized some more exotic magical herbs mixed in with the usual culinary and medicinal ones. Definitely the right place.
It hardly looked threatening, though. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a “wicked witch” vibe about it, and there was nothing in the aura of the house that made Barbara think that the owner would be much of a problem. The woman was probably just in over her head and needed some stern correction. Luckily, Barbara was just the person to give it to her.
They marched up to the front door and Barbara banged on it decisively. There was no answer, so she banged on it again.
“Hello?” The door swung open to reveal an attractive middle-aged woman, perhaps in her fifties or early sixties, with dyed blonde hair flatteringly cut to frame her heart-shaped face. She wore a tidy blue dress covered with an embroidered apron and had on full make-up, despite the fact that as far as Barbara could tell, she was in a house in the middle of the woods all by herself.
Barbara blinked, marginally taken aback. The woman didn’t look like any witch that Barbara had ever met, but she can smell the magic on her, and in the air of the cabin, so this was almost certainly the person they’re looking for.
“I’m sorry,” the witch said politely. “But whatever you’re buying, I’m not interested.” She glanced at Babs, who gazed impassively back at her. “It isn’t Girl Scout cookie season, is it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Barbara said. “But I can tell you that it isn’t raspberry season either, and yet you have some beautiful berries growing on the bushes in your yard. I think you had better explain to me why that is.”
The woman’s blue eyes widened and she quickly tried to shut the door. Barbara’s foot in its heavy motorcycle boot somehow seemed to be in the way.
“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m busy and don’t want to talk to you.”
“That’s too bad,” Barbara said, not moving her foot. “Although if it is any consolation, I don’t particularly want to talk to you either. You’re actually interrupting my vacation. And I’ve never had one of those, so I have kind of been looking forward to it. Let’s just get this over with as quickly as possible, and then we can both get on with our lives.”
“Who are you?” the woman asked, still trying to shove the door closed.
“I’m the Baba Yaga,” Barbara said. “And you are starting to get on my nerves.”
“Oh, oh,” Babs said quietly, and took a step back.
Barbara snapped her fingers and the door vanished, leaving the woman clutching at air and wobbling off balance. Barbara righted her with a fierce stare and said, “Now, I suggest you invite us inside. We need to talk.”
The woman sputtered, but didn’t act at all astonished by her disappearing door, which told Barbara that it wasn’t likely she’d have to go into a lengthy explanation about what a Baba Yaga was.
“Very well,” the woman said. “But I hope this won’t take long. I’m in the middle of something important.” She pressed red lips together. “And I’m going to want that door back before you leave.”
“Not a problem,” Barbara said, snapping her fingers and returning the door with a whoosh of displaced air. “I’m Barbara Yager, the Baba Yaga in charge of this section of the country. This is my ward, Babs. And you are?”
“My name is Katherine Chanter,” the woman said, leading the way into the rear of the house, where sharp green odors, touched by an acrid hint of something metallic, scented the air,. “And I’m not doing anything wrong.”
Barbara gazed around with interest at what might have been a perfectly normal kitchen if it weren’t for the cauldron bubbling over a low flame in the fieldstone fireplace. Or the various herbs lined up neatly in jar after jar on open shelves or hanging down in bunches from hooks on the walls. She reached up to touch a couple of the more unusual varieties.
“Datura,” she said, of one with faded pink flowers and a spiny unopened fruit. “Lovely. And look, here’s some deadly nightshade to go with it, some hensbane, and a nice mandrake root.” She tutted at Katherine. “You’re at risk of becoming a bit of a cliché, with all these ‘witches’ weeds.’ What about a few roses or daisies for variety?”
Katherine looked unimpressed. “I actually use rose petals in my elixir, for your information.” She pointed at a jar labeled “Rose, petals” on a bottom shelf between “Rose, hips” on one side and “Rosemary” on the other. Barbara was reluctantly impressed. None of her herbs were in alphabetical order. Or any kind of order at all, really.
“And datura was historically used in Ayurvedic medicine as an aphrodisiac. It is only poisonous if used incorrectly.”
“You’re making an aphrodisiac?” Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow. Somehow the woman didn’t seem like the type. But you never knew.
“What’s an aphrodisiac?” Babs asked, gazing up at the datura plant.
“I’ll explain later,” Barbara said. “And don’t touch that. It’s very dangerous.”
Katherine sniffed, moving over to stir whatever was in the cauldron. “No, I am not making an aphrodisiac, although I fail to see how it would be any business of yours if I was.”
“It is my business,” Barbara said, “because whatever it is you’re up to is disrupting that natural flow of nature. I’ve had complaints. I do not enjoy complaints.” She scowled at Katherine, irritated as much by her attitude as by the annoying orderliness of the woman’s work space. “So whatever it is you’re doing, you’re going to have to cut it the hell out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Katherine said, stirring counterclockwise three times before setting the large wooden spoon aside on a blue and white porcelain spoon rest. “I’m not hurting anyone. I’ve been working on a potion to turn back time, creating a remarkable serum that will make women look younger.”
Barbara snorted. “You’re making face cream?” She couldn’t believe she’d put her vacation on hold for this.
“Not face cream,” Katherine said in a huffy tone. “A serum that gives women back their youth. Well, to some extent, anyway. It can actually turn back the clock. You don’t believe me? I’m in my seventies, and just look at my skin. The wrinkles around my eyes are getting tinier every day. I look fabulous, I feel fabulous, and it is going to make me rich.” Her blue eyes glinted with a combination of pride and avarice.
A sinking feeling made Barbara’s stomach feel as though she’d swallowed a dozen writhing snakes. “You created a youth potion that actually works?” Her words dropped like stones into a pond, but Katherine somehow missed the ripples.
“I did! Isn’t it amazing? Scientists have been trying to come up with som
ething like this for decades. Who knew they should have been consulting a witch, instead of a bunch of chemists?” She let out a silvery peal of laughter.
“It’s not amazing,” Barbara said grimly. “It’s against all the laws of nature.”
“Oh, piffle,” Katherine said, waving one slim hand through the air. “Don’t women deserve to look better and feel good about themselves? What is the harm?”
“The harm?” Barbara gritted her teeth. “The harm is that you are messing with powers way beyond your control. Hell, they’re beyond any witch’s control, even mine. Time is not an element to be trifled with. Change the air or the water, sure. They’re meant to have a certain mutability. Make a hill into a mountain or the other way around? It takes a certain effort. But time is only designed to run in one direction. Forcing it to do otherwise will only lead to catastrophe.”
Katherine stirred some more, then added exactly six drops of something from a tiny brown glass bottle. “Catastrophe,” she sneered. “What do you know about catastrophe? Catastrophe is gazing into the mirror every day and watching your beauty fade, your skin wrinkle, your jowls sag, and not being able to do anything to stop it. You wouldn’t understand. You’re still young and beautiful. But someday you’ll find out. And then you’ll be glad I came up with this elixir.”
“Not all that young,” Barbara muttered. She’d turned eighty-six on her last birthday. Luckily she had the Queen of the Otherworld’s Water of Life and Death, which boosted a Baba Yaga’s power and kept her aging at a slower rate than most Humans. “But someday I will grow old and wrinkled, and I hope I will do it with dignity. It is part of the natural cycle of life. Things are born, grow older, die, and are reborn. You cannot change that.”
“I can,” Katherine said. “I am. With nary a catastrophe in sight, I might add.”
“What does that word mean?” Babs asked, sniffing at a pile of chopped greenery sitting on a cutting board. She made a face and shook her head. “That does not smell good. You should use something else.”
Wickedly Unraveled Page 2