Wickedly Dangerous

by Deborah Blake

  “Sorry, Baba Yaga,” it whispered, and took off into the woods, disappearing as soon as its skin changed color again.

  “You might be sorry,” Baba muttered as she set off down the path, clearly visible now that the creature’s subtle magic no longer disguised it. “But that damned Rusalka is going to be a lot sorrier.”

  * * *

  THINGS WENT MUCH faster without someone putting stumbling blocks in her way, and five minutes later, Baba emerged from the trees onto a manicured lawn that seemed to stretch for miles. Looming over it all in ethereal splendor was the royal palace, a spun-sugar and stone confection of graceful towers and arched windows, with festive banners flying from its tall spires.

  Crafted an eternity ago from magic and moonlight, the castle gave the illusion of floating over the landscape while still being strong and formidable. Like so much of the Otherworld, it rarely looked the same from year to year, but its essence was always the same—pure enchantment, beauty, and power. Much like its queen, who had ruled the land for as long as anyone could remember.

  Overhead, the sky resembled something much like dusk, although days here never really began nor ended, and a true sun never shone. Three moons cast a brilliant white light over the landscape, one a first quarter crescent, another the waning quarter, and in the middle, a glorious fecund round full moon tinged a slightly bloody red.

  As Baba neared the palace, she passed courtiers playing croquet in evening dress, the ladies dripping with diamonds and other sparkling precious stones, wide skirts of crimson, or pale blue, or lilac continually threatening to knock over the wickets as they glided in elegant processionals from place to place. The men were almost as dazzling as the women, wearing silk tunics in bright colors over velvet tights, and silver swords much like the one that Baba bore. Many of the court had hair that swept almost to the ground, and ears that rose to delicate points. All of them were strikingly attractive in a way that humans could never hope to attain.

  In among the courtiers ran smaller less gaudy creatures, most of them brown or green in tone, with attire to match, usually bearing trays laden with golden goblets or dainty snacks. They were kept scurrying, carrying this and that to the players, and to the clumps of nobles who stood around in threes and fours, watching and gossiping, and otherwise whiling away the tedious hours until the next party started, or a hunt was called.

  Many of those she passed called out greetings to Baba, who had been a regular, albeit sporadic, visitor since childhood, but she only nodded at them and walked on in the direction of the castle.

  When she drew closer to her goal, she stopped one of the tiny servitors, a brownie by the looks of her, and asked where she might find the queen and king. The brownie bobbed a curtsey, not spilling a drop of the nectar in the glasses she carried, and pointed down the lawn and past the building itself.

  “They be in the rose garden by the pond, mistress, at tea with some of the court,” the little woman said, and ran off to bring the drinks and a pile of lacy fans to a group of haughty-looking ladies standing under the casually drooping bows of a weeping willow.

  Baba strode on, rounding the edge of the castle to see the rulers of the Otherworld, along with a number of ladiesin-waiting, knights of the court, and some attendants, seated at a carved wooden table overlooking an azure blue pond the size of a small lake. The pond was dotted with notch-edged lily pads, their brilliant blossoms a vivid contrast to the crystalline waters.

  Small orange frogs croaked in three-part harmony, and majestic white swans floated by decorative statues of scantily clad youths. In the middle of the pond, a fountain shot sprays of water twenty feet into the air, creating a rainbow-filled mist that arced down over the fishtailed maidens who frolicked underneath its perpetual showers.

  Baba ignored most of the scenery, although its unearthly loveliness always made her heart soar for just a moment. She approached the group seated by the end of the waterline, and going directly to the queen, dropped to one knee and gave a flourishing bow.

  “Your Majesties,” she said, nodding at the queen and her consort. Although the king had a title equal to hers, it was the queen who was the true power in the Otherworld. “I greet you, and bring news of the world beyond your walls. May I beg leave to speak with you in private?” Baba thought it might be best to limit the people who knew what was going on. Besides, that would reduce the number of innocent bystanders.

  The queen rose from her ornate, thronelike chair and gestured for Baba to rise, embracing her, and kissing her on both cheeks. As always, the queen’s long, silvery-white hair was piled in a tower of complicated braids, emphasizing her long neck and high cheekbones. Her pale, almost translucent skin made her look fragile and delicate, an illusion reinforced by her willowy figure and fine, long-fingered hands. A gauzy gown of pale pink silk matched the roses that grew all around, and a tiara of pink diamonds glittered in the light of the moons. She was almost too beautiful to look at, and capable of both remarkable generosity and mind-blowing cruelty.

  “My darling Baba!” the queen cried in a voice that sounded like music. “It has been far too long, my dear. Come, you must sit and have tea with us.”

  Baba put on her best court smile. She got along well with the queen, for the most part; it wasn’t so long ago, in the long lives of the royals, that Baba was a small child, visiting with her mentor, playing with dolls underneath the table at the queen’s feet, and the queen still had a tendency to think of her as a beloved younger second cousin, very much removed. That didn’t mean Baba was foolish enough to think she was safe from reprisal if the queen decided to hold her responsible for the bad news she brought.

  “I would love to have tea some other time, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid I have urgent tidings that cannot wait. I beg an audience, if you please.” Baba kept her eyes slightly lowered, trying to see the queen’s face without staring rudely.

  “Pish tosh, my dear,” the queen said dismissively. “Any news you have to share can be told in front of the rest of this company. There is nothing you can say that my beloved consort and the most trusted members of our court cannot be witness to.” She waved one languid hand at Baba. “So, what is this oh-so-important information that cannot wait until I finish my tea?”

  Crap. Well, she’d just have to spill the beans and hope for the best. Presumably the members of the queen’s inner circle had gotten good at ducking over the centuries.

  “Highness, I have had a number of run-ins with a mysterious woman wearing a glamour and wielding powers unlike those available to most Humans. And then today, the White Rider, the Red Rider, and the Black Rider were all attacked by creatures they swear could only have come from the Otherworld. We assume they were acting under the command of this woman, who calls herself Maya.”

  There were gasps from the assembled company, although the queen’s expression didn’t change. The Riders were considered to be utterly dependable and beyond reproach in their service to the Babas, and by extension, the kingdom as well, since Babas guarded both worlds.

  “That seems highly unlikely,” the queen said, a slight chill in her voice. “How could she have such creatures in the Human lands?”

  Baba braced herself and looked directly at the queen. “We believe that she has somehow discovered a new, unauthorized door somewhere in the area. It is the only explanation for the presence of so many magical creatures, many of whom she is using to torment the local citizens, as well as directing them in attacks against the Riders and against my own person.”

  There were more exclamations from the courtiers around the table, but Baba kept her attention on the only person whose reaction truly mattered.

  The queen’s regal face grew even sterner, if that was possible. A few of the surrounding people started to edge away from the space.

  “That would be an extremely undesirable situation, were it to prove to be true,” she said. Frost crept out from underneath her poin
ted silver shoes and turned the grass below her feet to dust. The closest rosebush faded from a healthy pink to a lackluster gray, its petals dropping one by one to litter the ground. “Are you certain these beings are not crossing through another gateway? Yours, perhaps?” The queen narrowed her eyes at Baba, who tried not to flinch.

  “They could not be coming through my trailer . . . er, hut, that is, Your Majesty,” Baba said in as firm a tone as she dared use. “Either Chudo-Yudo or I have been there at all times. And the nearest other known doorways are many leagues from the area where the incidents occurred, in the Human places known as Ontario and New York City. It is unlikely in the extreme that the guardians of those doors would have allowed so many to pass from this world into that one without permission, and even if they had done so, how would the creatures have gotten so far without someone noticing?”

  The queen pursed her perfectly shaped lips, tapping them lightly with a dainty filigreed fan. “If you are right, dearest Baba, I shall be quite displeased. There is a reason why all the passageways in and out of our world are guarded and those who are allowed to pass through them are few. The balance between the Otherworld and the Human lands is precarious enough as it is; such wanton use of an illicit doorway could destroy that balance irrevocably. As a Baba, it is part of your job to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Sudden storm clouds appeared overhead, and whitecaps danced on the surface of the pond, which a moment before had been perfectly calm. The king reached out and patted the queen’s hand.

  “Now darling, I’m sure things aren’t as dire as all that,” he said in a soothing voice, casting a wary look at the sky. “We’ll just send Baba back to find what is no doubt just a tiny little hole in the fabric between the worlds, and then we’ll fix it. No harm done.” He gave his consort his most charming smile. “Why don’t you let me pour you some more tea? Yours seems to have gotten a little cold.”

  Baba cleared her throat, wishing she were anywhere else but there, with any other words about to come out of her mouth. Despite her height and the three-inch heels she wore, she felt very small. And sincerely hoped she wasn’t about to get smaller. Like swan- or frog-sized.

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid it is worse than that.” She braced herself, and spit out the rest. “There are a number of children who have gone missing from the local area over the last few months, and I now believe that this woman has been stealing the children and bringing them here.”

  At this, the queen sprang to her feet, her porcelain teacup shattering as it hit the ground. “What?” she shrieked, almost unmusically. “Preposterous! Unacceptable!”

  One of the crescent moons exploded, sending a rain of sparks out of the dusky sky to sizzle where they landed. Six lovely naked women suddenly appeared, floundering in the middle of the pond, shedding white feathers as they made their sputtering way to the edge of the water and staggered out to lie panting on the ground. The silver teapot the king had been about to pour from vanished, to be replaced by a multihued parrot that squawked indignantly and flew off to sit in a locust tree.

  “Crap,” muttered the king.

  Baba could feel all the blood drain out of her face. “I am so very sorry to be the bearer of such unpleasant news, Your Majesty. But I thought it was important that you be told as soon as possible.”

  The queen took a deep breath, perceptibly getting a grip on her temper, two bright spots of color visible on her normally pale cheeks. Two slightly sheepish-looking ladies crawled out from where they’d been hiding underneath the table, their elegant gowns a little worse for the experience.

  “Stealing children is what got the Otherworld into so much trouble in the old days,” the queen said, a grim expression turning her beautiful visage merely average stunning. “Nobody cared if a goblin stopped up a chimney or a brownie borrowed some milk, but steal their children, and Humans will stop at nothing to hunt us all down.” She sank back into her chair. “This is very, very bad news indeed.”

  The king handed her his teacup and cast a dubious glance at Baba. “Surely you are mistaken. No one would be so foolish. What would she have to gain?”

  “On my way here, I ran into a creature who was attempting to keep me from reaching the court. When I confronted him, he told me he was following orders from a Rusalka who had achieved great power and influence somehow.” Baba gave the king a rueful smile. “I can’t think of any other way a lowly Rusalka could achieve such a thing, frankly, so I’m guessing that this Rusalka and the woman I have been dealing with are one and the same, although as yet I have no proof to back up my assumption.”

  The queen tapped her fan on the edge of the table sharply. “Are you suggesting, my dear Baba Yaga, that there are those in my own court who are cooperating with this woman in return for the gift of a Human child?” Her scowl made Baba wish she’d stayed at home, which was no doubt the queen’s intent.

  Baba stood her ground, although her knees trembled slightly. “I’m afraid so, Your Majesty. I gave this some thought on my way here, after the creature told me this Rusalka was gathering power from others. It stands to reason that whoever this woman is, she started out with more cunning than ability. If there are those from the Otherworld who are giving over some of their power to Maya to use in the mundane world, they must be very powerful themselves.” She raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the assembled company, which had somehow grown to include most of the court members who had been dallying on the lawn. Otherworld denizens had an unerring instinct for any kind of drama that might entertain them. “Obviously, those with the most magic to spare are within your own inner circle, Highness.”

  She braced herself for another moon to plummet from the sky, but the queen simply shook her exquisite head in denial. “I refuse to believe such slander. You must be mistaken. Perhaps this woman is a talented witch who has somehow stumbled on the secrets of the gateways between our worlds.” The queen narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps it is even a Baba gone wrong. Have you talked to any of your sisters lately?”

  Baba gritted her teeth but answered politely. “I have, Your Majesty. The other two American Babas have their hands full with their own issues, far away from the area in which I am staying. And I fail to see how a witch, no matter how mighty, could command scores of Otherworld creatures.”

  The queen flipped open her fan, as if to waft away the unwelcome argument, and rose with inhuman grace to face those who had gathered to listen avidly to this fascinating conversation.

  “We will settle this right now,” she said, raising her voice without effort to be heard by all. She addressed her courtiers using her most regal attitude. Around the table, knights snapped to attention instinctively, and the ladies sat up straighter. Baba thought she heard the king let out the tiniest of sighs.

  “It has been suggested that some among you might knowingly be assisting a woman, possibly a Rusalka, who is stealing Human children and bringing them to our lands through an illicit and unauthorized doorway,” the queen said, looking out over her subjects with glittering amethyst eyes. Her gaze seemed to focus on each one in turn, like a laser scalpel, dissecting their thoughts and uncovering any hidden secrets.

  “Should such a thing be true, it would be a violation of our strictest laws, and a direct threat to the well-being of our land,” she went on. “If, in fact, any here are involved in such a travesty, speak up now, or be found out later and punished most severely for your crimes against me and this court. I, your queen, so command you.”

  There was utter and complete silence, although people could be seen subtly checking out those standing nearby, waiting, perhaps, for someone to confess. No one did. In fact, most of the company wore their most haughty, forbidding expressions, as if to imply that even the suggestion was ridiculous. But Baba thought she caught a few guilty looks; a twitch here, a tightened lip there, and made a mental note of them for future reference. Of course, Otherworld faces were differ
ent enough from human ones; it was possible she was simply imagining it. But she didn’t think so.

  “There, you see?” said the queen, as if that settled things. Which in theory, it should have, since it was a very bad idea to lie to the queen. Very Bad.

  “No one here is involved.” She stared at Baba, twirling her fan between long, slim fingers adorned with jewels that twinkled like the stars this world lacked. “That does not, of course, negate the possibility that this person is bringing children here and hiding them, somehow. Nor does it solve the problem of this door, if in fact it does exist.”

  The king stroked his neatly pointed beard, as dark as the queen’s hair was pale. “There have been a number of odd occurrences lately,” he pointed out. “Parts of the land shifting in and out of existence unexpectedly, time fluctuating even more erratically than usual.” Concern wrote unaccustomed lines on his handsome face. “Overuse of a newly created door could cause such imbalances, could it not, my dear?”

  The queen’s face was as calm as ever, but the delicate ivory fan snapped into pieces between her palms. “Indeed it could, my love, indeed it could. And if true, the chaos will only become worse as the miscreant continues to use it.” She dropped the remains of the fan on the ground, dusting her hands as if to rid herself of the problem at the same time.

  “Baba Yaga,” she said decisively.

  Baba’s stomach felt like it was attempting to join the broken beige shards lying at her feet. “Majesty?”

  The queen drew herself up to her full height and spoke in her most imperial and dulcet tone, like exotic flowers shot out of a cannon at full force. “Baba Yaga, I hereby command you to find this woman Maya and discover, by whatever means necessary, the location of the door she is using, so We might close it before it further harms this world. You will also discover the location of any children she has illegally transported to the Otherworld, should this in fact be the case.” Her words rang out for all to hear and those surrounding the table nodded in approval and began to wander off, satisfied that the show was over.