Awfully Furmiliar

by Michael J Tresca

  "Come on!" I mind-shouted at her. I had nothing to lose. "I want to show you something!"

  Eliana caught up just as I slithered on my belly into the girls' bedroom.

  It was a sparsely furnished room. The bed frame was solid black with a red comforter. The walls were painted gold. A desk and table were also stained black. Pictures on the wall were of red and gold sunsets. Or maybe it was sunrises. One picture was of a full moon.

  Hanging over the back of the chair, were the two other scarves weaved by Lycus.

  Eliana looked around in confusion. "What…?"

  I sat up on my hind legs to face her. "This is your room, isn't it?"

  "Yes, but … " she trailed off, looking around the room as if she had looked at it for the first time.

  "Where are your sisters?"

  She took a few halting steps towards the chair. "I … I don't know."

  "This is their room too, isn't it?"

  "Yes." Eliana wound the red scarf around her neck.

  "Why is there only one bed?"

  "We sleep … " Eliana's voice faltered. "We sleep in shifts." Eliana picked up the gold scarf and wound that one around her neck as well.

  "But you're here. Shouldn't both of them be in bed?"

  Eliana picked up the third scarf, Nyx's black scarf, and put that on. She held the ends of the three different scarves in her hands, feeling their texture. "I don't know."

  "You do know," I said. "It took me a while to figure it out. There isn't a Nyx, an Eliana, and a Dawn. You're all the same person!"

  Eliana shook her head vigorously. "That can't be true! It can't!"

  "It is true. I think you've been cursed. It's time to remember who you really are! You're name is Vasilissa!"

  At the sound of her true name, Eliana staggered. She whirled, clutching at the scarves, tearing at them. "I remember!" she shouted. "I remember!"

  Rays of red and gold light flashed from her. She spun, whirling, so fast that I wasn't able to make out any particular feature. Her red hair shimmered in the light as blond and black streaks appeared. She fell to the ground.

  I took a few steps towards her, afraid to touch her. The girl's eyes fluttered open.

  "Eliana?" I asked.

  She sat straight up, blinking violet-colored eyes. "Not anymore. My name is Vasilissa." She touched her forehead, bruised from the bump she suffered when she collapsed. "Oh, I remember now!"

  "Lycus is in trouble," I said. "He's about to be eaten by Yaga!"

  "Yes!" Vasilissa was already on her feet. "Let's go!"

  I ran as fast as my rat feet would take me as Vasilissa cleared the distance through the two rooms.

  "She's coming back." Ivasik sat on top of Lycus' trussed up torso, licking one paw. "You'd better hurry."

  Lycus looked at Vasilissa in shock. "Who are you?"

  Vasilissa began untying him. "No time for that now." She finished untying his restraints. "Yaga is out punishing Dog. I think he ran away. But she will find him. She always does." That's when I realized that Will was missing. That wasn't a good sign.

  Ivasik hopped down off Lycus and resumed his position near the pots. Lycus pulled on his pants and shrugged into his shirt.

  "We have to get out of here," I said. "Vasilissa, do you have the key?"

  Vasilissa still had it in one hand. She held it up. "Yes?"

  "Lycus, grab the towel and comb!"

  Lycus snatched the key from Vasilissa, turned it near the entryway wall, and reached in. He pulled out the comb and towel and shoved them in his pockets.

  "I'll run past her and grab her tub when she comes in," Lycus said, taking command of the situation. He seemed more man than boy. He looked at Vasilissa, finally comprehending what had happened. "We'll have to move fast."

  "I … I'm not going with you," said Vasilissa.

  Lycus' face fell. "What? Why not?"

  "You'll never escape if I’m with you. Yaga can track me wherever I go." She smiled ruefully. "Don't worry, she won't eat me. Yaga always needs a servant."

  Lycus hugged her tightly. "Thank you," he said. "Thanks to all of you."

  Vasilissa froze at the unexpected hug, but then she lay her head down on Lycus' shoulder and squeezed him back. "Thank you," she said, closing her eyes. "And thank you, little rat." Her eyes fluttered open. "I owe you both more than you can ever know." She pushed Lycus away. "Now go. Go!"

  "She's here," said Ivasik, not looking up.

  Lycus scooped me up in one hand and plastered himself against the wall.

  The hag strode through the doorway, holding Dog by the scruff of his neck. "Thought I wouldn’t catch up with—" Yaga's growl was cut off in mid-sentence as she took in the scene. "What…?"

  Lycus slipped through the opening and pounded across the entryway towards Yaga's tub. The broom was sticking out of it, unused, as Yaga's most recent journey didn't require covering her tracks.

  He hopped in it, looking around wildly. "I have no idea how to make this thing work!"

  I scurried up to the top of his head. "Grab hold of the pestle and then push off as hard as you can!"

  Lycus grabbed the giant pestle and pushed. The tub lifted up as if we were floating on a cushion of air. It slipped forward effortlessly, like skates on ice.

  Behind us, Yaga howled in rage. It was a terrible sound that made my rat fur stand on end.

  There was still the problem with the gate. I didn't think Lycus had enough strength to bash the skeletons open.

  I looked down. Will was staring back up at us from the bottom of the tub. "Will! Can you blast that gate?"

  Will's hollow eyes rolled. "Yes!" he said. "Yes!"

  Lycus stopped pushing and tossed the pestle into the tub. He lifted Will up and pointed him at the gate.

  Will made an enormous belching sound. A gout of flames instantly incinerated the fence, blackening the skulls, forearms, and torsos. Lycus dropped Will, picked up the pestle again, and shoved with all his might.

  The air whistled past us as we sailed towards the gate. If Will's flames didn't weaken the gate enough, I was sure the tub would smash to pieces when we struck it.

  But the bones, blackened to a crisp, crumbled at the force of the tub's impact. With a great crack, charred skeletons went flying in all directions. A rib bone whistled past Lycus' head, nearly dislodging me.

  "Go!" I shouted. "Go! Go!"

  Lycus shoved off and we sailed through the open area around the hut into the forest. He kept going, navigating as best he could through the forest.

  "Fasten the broom to the back," I said, pointing with one paw at the slightly askew fastener that Yaga attached the broom to. She was right handed and fortunately so was Lycus, so the broom was perfectly positioned to sweep the telltale tracks of the pestle clean.

  Onwards we sailed. Lycus was panting; although the act of pushing the tub forward was simple, pushing at length was an exercise in fatigue. He took a deep breath as we cleared an opening into the other side of the forest, letting the tub sail forward from inertia.

  "Think we … " he gasped, " … lost her?"

  Yaga's screeches of rage had stopped shortly after we entered the forest. We had used the broom to cover our tracks. Maybe we would get away…

  There was a howl in the distance.

  "It's Dog!" I wailed. "Yaga has sent him after us!"

  Lycus picked up the pestle again and shoved off as Dog burst from the forest, running at top speed, tongue trailing.

  Lycus paddled faster, pounding the ground with all his might, but Dog overtook us … and kept on running.

  "Run!" Dog shouted without looking back at me. "She's coming!"

  I couldn't understand it. Yaga had no other means of transportation that I knew of. Without her tub she still moved like an old lady. What could she possibly do to catch up?

  Then I heard it: the mechanical whirring and shrieking that the toy soldiers made, only magnified a thousand-fold. There was a grinding of gears, the loud thump of metal striking earth, and then mo
re groans of metal-on-metal.

  THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. It came in three quick staccato beats, silence, and then three more.

  Lycus was pushing as fast as he could. I turned around on top of his head and immediately regretted it.

  Pounding into the clearing behind us on three bird-like mechanical legs was Yaga's hut, stalking across the terrain like some giant demented chicken.

  * * *

  It was an awful thing, a thing of nightmares, a conglomeration of rustic architecture mixed with sorcery and clockworks. Atop, the massive hut that was Yaga's home was the same old wooden dwelling, with its inviting curtained door. But beneath it was a mechanical marvel. I understood why the massive furnace was at the center of the house; it wasn't just to keep it warm; it was to feed the engine that was Yaga's hut.

  Three mechanical legs rotated on a central axis, lifting the hut like a raptor, three-toed claws closing, and then opening again as they came down to shear through wood and earth. The legs spun in a counterclockwise motion beneath the hut, each leg lifting and landing in quick succession, creating the thumping sound that reverberated through our very bones.

  In the doorway that presently looked like the mechanical beast's mouth, Yaga stood. Smoke billowed out of the stovetop at the center of the hut, fueled by, I was now certain, the pickled creatures that had helped me escape.

  The hut would be upon us in seconds. Its bizarre gait easily traversed the terrain.

  "Throw the towel!" I shouted to Lycus.

  "What? Those claws are pretty big—it's not like it's going to slip on the—"

  "JUST THROW THE TOWEL!"

  Lycus reached into his pocket and tossed the towel behind him.

  I focused my energy in the same way Yaga had used me. Each time I was used for magic, it taught me a little more about how to focus my own energy. I concentrated.

  The towel had a purpose. It was already magical, so focusing my own energy into it was simple. It was like pouring water in a funnel. But I needed much more than a few drops of water from the towel. I needed…

  The sound of roaring overwhelmed the thumping from the hut. It was a flash flood, exploding outwards in a dividing line between us and the hut. A tidal wave of water rose up behind us.

  "Faster!" I shouted.

  Lycus poled as fast as he could, but the tidal wave smashed down right behind us. The water lifted us and another tidal wave of water, filled with dirt, sticks, and weeds, rose up underneath us. For a split-second, we were level with the height of the hut, and I could see Yaga cursing at us, just a few hundred yards away.

  Then we crashed down and the water propelled us forward. Lycus leaned back into the tub to avoid falling out of it.

  On we sailed. Yaga's hut slowed down as it struggled to contend with the new current that sprung up around its legs. The water was rushing everywhere, finding the lowest depression, scouring the land clean and sweeping up all that wasn't solidly affixed to the ground.

  Lycus let out a whoop. He turned around to look in wonder at the receding water and Yaga's hut. Each step it took ground the hut deeper into the muddy earth like a corkscrew. It stopped, the massive furnace thrumming like a great angry cat.

  "The towel did THAT?" asked Lycus.

  "No," I said softly. "I did that."

  * * *

  "Tesso, come here," commanded Halewijn.

  I followed Halewijn. We were in his lab, surrounded by squeaking rats.

  He thrust two vials into my hands. "Hold these. Be very still."

  I looked down at the vials. One was a clear liquid with a red blush, the other blue. They smelled faintly acidic.

  Closing his eyes, Halewijn whispered some magic words. The magic words always changed; I was beginning to think he just made them up.

  I felt a little dizzy, drained. The concoctions bubbled.

  I looked at the vials closely, but they didn’t seem any different. Nodding to himself, Halewijn took the vials and, carefully undoing the stoppers, placed them in two different rat cages. He connected each to one of the feed tubes from which the rats drank.

  The biggest rat, a black-furred beast whom I nicknamed Black out of contempt for my old master, waddled up to the feeder and nibbled on it. Drops of the liquid dripped out and the rat eagerly lapped it up. I had discovered that rats would eat anything, given the chance.

  Halewijn turned away. He walked to a pile of colorful clothing on a nearby table. He turned back to me with the outfit in his hands.

  "This is for you," he said with a smile, as if I should be terribly grateful.

  "Uh, Master, I don’t understand …"

  "This is your costume!" said Halewijn in exasperation. "I have an audience with the Queen and—"

  "You’re taking me with you?" He could have taken any of the other students.

  Halewijn grinned. "Of course I’m taking you with me! Who else would I take?"

  Then Halewijn leaned over Black’s cage. Taking the two cages, he ushered the rats from a third cage and moved them about so that the rats were all in different cages. Again they drank from the feeder.

  Only one refused. After that incident I named the little rat Switch.

  "What magic will I perform?" I grabbed the costume. It was tailor-made for me.

  "Magic? No, my dear boy, you’re not there to perform magic." He snorted. "You’re there to entertain. You’re the warm-up act for the Queen."

  "So I’m playing …"

  He held the outfit up again for me to see. It was a jester’s outfit.

  "The fool," he said with a self-satisfied smirk. "That’s right. Every tragedy needs a comedic relief." He cackled at some inside joke only he understood.

  Halewijn leaned over and tapped the cages. With a self-satisfied grunt, he left.

  I glumly followed him. Something made me look over my shoulder; just a vague feeling of unease. I caught sight of the rats.

  With the exception of Switch, all the rats lay unmoving, curled up in the corners of their cages.

  * * *

  I woke up atop Lycus' chest. Confident that we had finally lost Yaga's trail, Lycus slouched in the tub and dozed. Occasionally he would wake up and pole us along.

  Will provided heat and light, adjusting his temperature up and down as necessary to keep Lycus and I warm. As Lycus dozed, he kept the light low and warm. In our little tub it was just enough warmth.

  We had passed through another forest, heading south. With luck we would reach the Porro River, and then it was just a matter of making the run to Stromgate. For once, a city seemed like a safer place.

  "She's going to find us, you know." Will's demeanor changed since his imprisonment in the pumpkin. His fear of Yaga was palpable.

  "You don't know that," I said, not entirely confident. "The broom covers our tracks—"

  "From human hunters and hounds. But Yaga can track all things she creates."

  "You mean the tub."

  "I mean everything," said Will. "She made this tub, the pole, the broom. She will never stop looking for it. And there's nothing we can do to stop her."

  I wondered about Dog. Yaga had spent time tracking him; he could run fast, faster than we could pole along in Yaga's tub. And yet she caught him too.

  "What about Vasilissa?" Lycus had his eyes closed, but he was listening.

  "Who?" asked Will.

  "The human girl," I said. With the exception of Yaga, Will had difficulty distinguishing between humans.

  "Did Yaga make her?"

  "I don't know," said Lycus. "Maybe."

  "Then there is nowhere she can go that Yaga cannot find her."

  "We have to get rid of this tub," I said.

  Will's flickering eyes turned sad, his mouth twisting upside down in a sorrowful pout. "That's not the only thing you have to get rid—"

  "Shh!" I said. "Listen!"

  Will stopped talking, his carved eyebrows arching in fear. Lycus sat up.

  There it was: thump, thump, thump.

  "Go!" I shouted at Lycus.<
br />
  I clambered up to Lycus’ head. In the darkness it was hard to make out Yaga's hut. I could see the legs pounding as it stepped out of the tree line and into the field.

  Lycus started poling again, shoving off through the field as fast as he could.

  "The comb!" I shouted to Lycus. "Throw it behind us!"

  This time Lycus didn't hesitate. He fished the comb out of his pocket and tossed it over his shoulder.

  As before, I focused my magical energy on the comb. Lycus had used it to grow trees after carefully tilling the soil. I was sure I could do better.

  One single sapling bent upwards, stretching before the monstrous hut's legs. It looked pathetically inadequate before Yaga's grinding hut.

  Lycus looked over his shoulder, still paddling. "That's it?" asked Lycus.

  I concentrated. There had to be more …

  One after the other, gouts of dirt shot upwards as trees as tall as ancient oaks burst from the ground. Like spear shafts thrown down by the gods, a forest grew up between us and the hut.

  "Ha-ha!" shouted Lycus, whooping. "Take that you old hag!"

  CRACK! There was a terrible crunch of wood splintering, and one of the trees before the hut snapped sideways with the whiplash of the hut's legs.

  So that's how Yaga's hut was always in a clearing! That explained why there were tree stumps around her hut. It walked wherever she willed it, and anything that got in its way was slashed apart by the three massive, razor-sharp legs.

  And that was going to include us, if I didn't come up with something fast.

  "It's not stopping her!" shouted Lycus.

  "I can help," said Will. "Let me help."

  I looked down at the jack-o'-lantern. "But Will … "

  "It's fine," said Will. "This is the only way. She'll never stop following you." His features turned from frightened to serious. "Please, I don't want to be trapped in this stupid pumpkin forever. You know what to do."

  "Good luck Will," I said.

  We were running out of options. "Lycus, turn around and throw him at the forest as hard as you can. It will need to be very far."

  Lycus placed the pole in the tub as we whistled along the open field. "I've got a better idea." He took off his shirt and bundled up Will in it. Then he tied the arms of the shirt to the pole.

  Lycus carefully held out the pole, balancing Will as the pumpkin hung below it, cradled in the shirt. Will’s flaming features were still visible through the shirt. Then slowly and carefully, Lycus began to swing the staff over his head with both arms.