Twisted Ever After

by Celeste Thrower

  The windows blinked, setting my fur on end. They were eyes that Baba Yaga could use to see outside without leaving the comfort of her chair. But it was the two-story-tall chicken legs that the enchanted hut rested upon that struck me the most. Even folded beneath the house so that the structure settled firmly on the ground, I could still see the ends of the chicken’s claws poking out oddly.

  The cottage was so stunning and strange that I’d almost forgotten to shift from wolf aspect to human. I’d just completed the transformation when the door opened.

  I took in the woman standing in the doorway, and my mouth fell open. She was tall, statuesque, and as blonde as me. Not a single wrinkle showed on her skin. Had I met her anywhere else, I’d have thought she was no older than thirty-five.

  But there have been tales of Baba Yaga for centuries.

  “Are you ever going to introduce yourself, girl?” the witch asked, her tone assertive.

  I hurried to clear my throat. “I’m so sorry, it’s only . . . in the stories—”

  “I’m an old hag with a warty nose and iron teeth?” Baba Yaga rolled her eyes. “You probably think I cook and eat people too?”

  “Umm—” I gulped not wanting to admit that was exactly what I believed.

  Baba Yaga’s lips twitched. “Well, there was a time when all that was true, but no more. This world is hard enough for a creature like me. Beautiful people have an easier time in life and I’ve long known that. I finally decided to do something about it. A glamour, you know.” She pressed her full lips together and sniffed haughtily. “And I’ll admit I only cooked one human. A horrible excuse for a man. Perhaps I should have eaten him, but I didn’t. Rabbit is my protein of choice.”

  Well, that’s reassuring at least.

  “Please forgive my ignorance. I’m Vassalisa . . . or Vassa, of the Longclaw Pack, and I’m here to beg for your help.”

  The witch’s bright blue eyes appraised me. On her shoulder two dismembered hands each began moving a finger slowly up and down, mimicking their master’s gaze. I shuddered.

  After a full minute of evaluation, Baba Yaga spoke. “Come closer. I don’t bite—hard.”

  I moved forward, keeping my shoulders back and head held high. The witch hadn’t turned me away, but I hadn’t made a great first impression. From this point on, I had to project confidence.

  “What is it you desire so much that you sought the witch of the woods, little wolf?” the witch asked when I stopped before her.

  She smelled strongly of rose oils and brimstone, a perplexing mix. “Strength,” I blurted after realizing I was staring intensely.

  She smirked. “No love potions? I suppose a pretty little thing like yourself doesn’t need one. Now tell me, why is strength what you wish for?”

  “My family—the family I live with, actually—are alphas of my pack. My biological parents died when I was young, but because I was betrothed to the alpha’s son at birth, the family felt it was their duty to take me in. The thing is, all my life I’ve had health issues, and it’s clear they think I’m not worthy of their son.” My lips pressed together at the idea that I wasn’t good enough for Melor, whom I didn’t like much. “To be fair, without them paying for my medications and all the testing I have to undergo, I’d already be dead. I know they’ll go through with the marriage pact, because Natasha—the alpha’s wife—says they’d never go back on their word, even if they did get the raw end of the deal. Still, I don’t want them to despise me for it. I need your help to make me strong. I want to become alpha-mate material.”

  The witch’s eyebrows, not at all the bushy caterpillars I’d envisioned but manicured and dark blonde, knitted together. “You want to please them even though they think little of you?”

  My stomach dropped. “I don’t expect you to understand, but wolf-shifter packs stick together. If my parents wanted me betrothed to Melor, I will honor that. It would have made them proud, I’m sure. I believe that if I’m stronger and not so frail all the time, the alphas will actually want me and consider me an equal.”

  The witch’s nose twitched and after a moment’s silence, she nodded. “I’ll never understand shifter dynamics, but I can see that you’re a survivor. I can relate to that. Come in. Let us strike a deal.”

  Baba Yaga

  Something was off about this girl. I smelled it the second I stepped out of my cottage. There was a cloying scent about her, unlike the usual musk and earthiness of shifters.

  Once we were both inside, my cottage rose on its chicken legs and began to spin. The sudden movement caused the girl to run into my loom.

  “Sit.” I pointed to the table.

  At my motion Yana leapt from my shoulder and scurried across the room, climbed the table leg, and claimed her spot. The young shifter looked at me, green eyes wide with concern over my strange little friend. I had to work to hide the upward lift of my lips. “She’ll do you no harm. It’s this one you have to worry about. He represents the darkness inside me, as you can probably tell.” I pointed to Adrik, who was hunched over on my shoulder like an angry cat. “Do calm down, darling, you’re scaring the little wolf.”

  Adrik leapt off my shoulder and darted across the room to hide under my bed. He hated being told how to feel. I shrugged and moved to the counter where my kettle resided. “Would you care for some tea?”

  “Umm, sure,” Vassa said, her eyes darting to the bed and back to me as she twirled her blonde hair nervously.

  I set to making a pot, my back to the girl. The room filled with the scents of Earl Grey as I performed the ritual of making tea, as instinctive as brushing my teeth. “So, your motivation is love then?”

  The girl cleared her throat. “For my parents, and the pack.”

  “Not for your betrothed?” I pressed as I turned around, tea in hand.

  Her eyes widened, taken aback by my question.

  “N . . . not really. I don’t like Melor much, and I think the feeling is mutual,” the girl stammered after I set her cup of tea in front of her. “But that doesn’t matter. You see, two decades ago there was a pack war. Everyone except the alphas and me perished. Keeping the original pack bloodline alive is an extra incentive for the alphas.”

  Ugh. Wolf-shifters are such sheep. Always following what they should do, rather than what they want.

  “I recall the pack war you speak of. One of the alphas came to me and asked for my assistance.”

  Vassa cupped the tea and leaned forward. “That’s odd.”

  I chuckled. “You could say that. Wolves don’t tend to seek me out, but then again, you did too. Anyhow, while I could see the wolf was requesting help for noble reasons, I declined. Pack business is none of my business. I only assist individuals. That being said,” I sniffed the air and her strange scent filled my nostrils again.

  What is off about this girl?

  I took a sip of tea to get the smell out of my nose. Then, setting the cup on its saucer, I decided. “I shall help you.”

  The girl’s breath caught. It was obvious Vassa wanted to ask more about the past, but she did not. She simply folded her hands together and looked me in the eye.

  “What would you request of me?”

  This girl had come prepared to give tribute. She’s more intelligent than most creatures who seek me out.

  “There is a bear in these woods—a strange golden one.” I pressed my lips together. “Normally, I would not bother with the creature, but this one has recently indulged in my cache of salted meats and murdered three chickens. My best egg-laying ones too, the blasted beast. I need the remaining hens to get through the winter. Your task is to kill the bear.”

  “In these vast woods?! Alone?”

  “To change your life, you must often walk through the darkness alone.”

  Silence stretched between us, and slowly Yana began to drum her fingers on the table.

  The girl gulped and gave a single nod. “I’ll do it.”

  Vassa

  The terrible thoughts of what the al
phas would do when they noticed my disappearance ran through my mind. Hurriedly, I pushed them away. They wouldn’t help me complete Baba Yaga’s task, so they served no purpose right now.

  Finding a bear in the woods would be hard enough, like searching for a poppy seed in a bucket of soil. But killing a bear would be a massive challenge. It often took three or more wolves to take down fully grown ones. My best hope was to ambush it for a quick kill.

  I bit my lip. The sun would rise in a few hours and if I wasn’t home to inject my medication soon after, my health would deteriorate rapidly. The medicine I’d taken all my life was the only thing that helped keep my energy up. Without it, I’d have even less chance of catching the bear.

  I needed to act before the medication wore off or the bear got too far away for me to find him.

  “Wolf!” the witch shouted from the doorway of her hut after I had departed in a hurry. I whipped around. She was nearly out of sight, but I caught her waving through the trees. I jogged back through the forest, leaves crunching underfoot. When I reached her, the witch held up a clump of hair.

  “This way you know which one to kill.”

  The bear’s fur. My eyes widened. Why was the witch doing me this kindness? A scent would take this task from impossible to merely difficult.

  “They call me unreasonable, but they’re all liars—terrified of a woman who recognizes her own power,” the witch said as if she could read my mind. “Besides, by your own admission you’re weak. I think the task I’ve set is still an appropriate challenge. It takes days for people to cross this forest on foot and the bear might be anywhere by now.”

  Not wanting to linger in case she changed her mind, I brought the fur to my nose and inhaled.

  The wolf inside me growled and my body began to tremble. A second later my wolf took over. Gold fur began sprouting over my skin, and my body contorted. Once I was fully shifted, I stretched out the kinks in my muscles and sniffed the air. After only a moment I latched onto the trail the bear had left days ago.

  A howl burst from my mouth, and I charged into the trees.

  Hours passed and the scent of the golden bear grew stronger with every kilometer.

  Perhaps the excitement of the hunt elevated me. It had been months since I’d been allowed to hunt with my pack. Or perhaps my vigor sprouted from the idea I’d soon be freed from my weak constitution. Either way, for the first time in ages, lethargy didn’t cling to me.

  I’d been well aware of dawn’s impending arrival during my journey, and at that very moment the sun broke over the horizon and spilled through the trees. Lazy beams of light filled my vision, warming my chilled snout and lifting my heart.

  I’d survived the night in the woods and felt strong. Maybe I could actually do this. I leapt over a fallen log to land lightly on the other side, then, I stilled. My ears lifted as sound pierced the quiet woods.

  Snuffling.

  I prowled forward. The noise was close, meters away. Although everything inside me screamed that I’d found the bear, I had to confirm it visually. Moving through a thick patch of trees I stopped before they thinned into a clearing. Slowly, I pressed my body low to the ground before scooting my head out for a better view. My blood froze.

  A massive creature lumbered before me. The bear loomed at least eight times my size, with fur as golden as the beautiful domes of Moscow’s Cathedral of the Annunciation. This had to be the bear Baba Yaga spoke of. I stuck my nose in the air and sniffed. The same musky scent I’d been following for hours filled my nostrils, and I flattened against the ground once more.

  I scanned the clearing. There was nothing special about it, no great hiding spots except mine, which was too far away to catch the bear by surprise. He was in the middle of the large space, flipping over a log for the treasures that lay beneath. I needed to capitalize on the ruckus the bear was making to get into position.

  Think, Vassa, think.

  The cawing of a crow rang through the woods. I looked up in time to catch a murder of black birds fly over the clearing, and shuddered as my eyes dropped to the ground.

  Is that a bad omen? Crows usually are, right? Had I been wrong to seek Baba Yaga?

  Hesitantly, my gaze lifted to where the birds had been. They’d moved on, leaving behind a reassuring clear sky with beams of sunlight streaking through it that illuminated the branches above.

  And one sturdy-looking, very high-up branch in particular.

  My nails dug into the bark as I climbed higher. Surprisingly, I was halfway up and the exertion had not yet affected me. A shock since I hadn’t slept in over a day and mornings were usually difficult for me. I assumed it was because of the adrenaline produced by the prospect of falling into the bear’s jaws. Especially seeing as I had needed to transform into human aspect to climb. Without my teeth and claws I was defenseless.

  Five minutes later I reached the branch and inched out over the clearing. My bare feet and hands trembled as I moved forward, closer to where the bear foraged below.

  Three more meters and I can transform. The thought brought relief but did not entirely erase my anxiety. Attacking the bear in wolf aspect would be easier, but both the long drop and the fight were still daunting. I would have to land precisely on his neck, bite right away, and hold on until I could weaken him.

  Fear did funny things with time and soon enough I was there, on my hands and knees above the bear. Inhaling softly, I shifted. My wolf form was more stable on the tree and my shaking stopped. A feeling of strength that I wasn’t used to was present too.

  Thank goodness because I would need all the strength I could get.

  Suddenly, the bear’s head lifted from the buffet he’d been enjoying. The lug moved his head from side to side, taking in the surrounding woods. His stance grew tense.

  I held my breath.

  He sensed me.

  After a minute masquerading as a year, the bear’s stance loosened and he took a few steps forward.

  My heart began to race. It was now or never.

  I leapt.

  Baba Yaga

  The girl was mad. Brave, but still mad.

  I flew above her, tucked inside my trusty iron mortar as I used the pestle to steer. What was happening below was so thrilling that I no longer could keep up the glamour that had hidden me from Vassa while she hunted.

  The golden wolf had landed atop the even more golden bear and succeeded in drawing blood three times. Still, the bear was much larger than Vassa, and he threw her off after the third assault. As he charged the wolf, teeth gnashing and claws outstretched, a pit formed in my stomach.

  Have I condemned the girl to death?

  I blinked at the thought. Why did I care? I disliked wolf-shifters at the best of times. But even I could not deny that there was something about Vassa that made me feel differently. I’d agreed to help her with a rapidity others rarely enjoyed, and could not help but follow her on her task.

  Perhaps it was her status as an outsider, which was relatable for a witch living alone in the woods. I also sympathized with the fact that others around her wanted to keep her down. But her claim that she was weak? I wasn’t sure I fully believed that.

  The skittish Vassa who had shown up at my door had dissolved as sunlight took over the stars. It showed in her wolfish run, the easy way she climbed the tree, and now in the way she fought the bear.

  My eyes narrowed as I watched the wolf ricochet off a tree to escape the bear’s clutches. Vassa flew past the beast, her teeth claiming another chunk of the bear’s flesh and the creature let out a blood chilling roar.

  The light caught on the blood spilled into the dirt. Buckets of blood—so much I could not tear my eyes from it. One of them should collapse soon. I hoped it was the bear, the scoundrel who had been stealing my food.

  The wolf’s growl ripped me from my thoughts and my attention darted back to the action. Suddenly, everything moved as if it were in slow motion. Vassa went in for the kill, her long canines directed at the bear’s jugular. And sh
e hit it—dead on. The bear toppled like a tree in the woods, a copious amount of blood spurting from his new wound. Victory bloomed in my chest, but was dashed a second later for before Vassa could flee to safety, the bear’s claw lashed out to strike the wolf in her side.

  A whine permeated the night, and I gripped the edge of my mortar as she fell. Beams of lazy morning sunlight cut through the trees and caught on her pale, blood-dappled fur, revealing a gash as long as my arm. The bear had sliced open her belly, and at least one internal organ was pushing its way out.

  Get out of range, girl, I urged, as the bear tried to pull himself closer to the wolf—to take her to the underworld with him.

  As if she could hear me, Vassa wrenched herself toward the outskirts of the clearing, whining with every inch of soil she conquered. The bear followed, and it was like watching two snails with how slowly they moved. I held my breath, knowing one’s body would soon give out.

  But which would perish first?

  My answer came with the collapsing of the bear, legs splayed and front limbs outstretched toward the wolf who had bested him. A final groan rang from his ursine lips before he fell silent.

  I kicked open the door to my hut, startling the hands from their splayed out position over my oven.

  I go out and all they do is lounge upon the oven like it’s a sauna.

  “Yana! Adrik! Clear the table, then get me iodine for cleaning. And a needle and thread.” Turning, I gestured for my mortar to follow. It hesitated, knowing I rarely allowed it inside the house, but another insistent wave from me and the mortar entered with Vassa still cradled up against its iron sides.

  My choice to save the wolf was baffling, but I simply hadn’t been able to leave her there. And once I’d leaned over her and taken in her dying form, I was glad a surge of empathy had motivated me.

  My earlier intuition about the girl had been right. The blood clinging to her fur made it obvious that magic seeped from Vassa.

  Witching magic.

  The table cleared, I motioned for my mortar to scoot up to the edge. With great effort, I pulled Vassa off the flying device and onto the table. Adrik helped reposition her so that the wound was accessible. The entire time the scent of magic flooding from her filled the room. Yana and Adrik sensed it too, pointing at the cut more than once and making confused gestures with their fingers.