Perversely, Liam only found her more attractive—magic of its own kind, since he wouldn’t have said that was possible.
“Wow,” he said, for lack of a better word.
Baba sparked a rare grin, becoming just Barbara again. “Pretty, isn’t it? I imagine it takes a bit of getting used to, when you’ve never been here before. Sadly, we don’t have time to let you adjust slowly. We need to find Maya before she does any more damage.”
Liam glanced around at the empty field and the trees that lay beyond it. There was no sign that anyone had ever walked here before them, not so much as a bent blade of grass or a hint of a path. “How?” he asked.
Grin widening, Baba pulled a long golden strand out of the velvet pouch hanging at her waist. It dangled from her fingers like something a poor miller’s daughter had spun out of straw. “Remember this?”
He peered at it, more confused than ever. “That’s the hair you took from Maya’s car, right?”
“This,” Baba stated triumphantly, “is one of Maya’s hairs.” She laid it out carefully on the flat of her sword, where it adhered like, well, magic. “Since it is a part of her, it will be drawn back to where it came from—and lead us straight to Maya, no matter where she’s hiding.”
Alexei guffawed, although Liam still didn’t understand, until Baba slowly swiveled in a semicircle, the sword held out straight in front of her like the divining rod Liam had once watched a gnarled old man use to locate a hidden spring. As it came even with a line of trees on either side of a shadowy lane, the strand of hair began to glow, dimming as the tip of the sword moved past, then brightening as she swung it back again.
“Handy,” Liam exclaimed, as they started off down a gentle slope toward the trees. “They never taught us that one in the police academy.”
A shrill cry broke through the quiet scene, and half a dozen centaurs charged out of the forest’s edge, razor-edged silver swords slicing the air before them. At their backs, a motley array of sharp-toothed, long-clawed nasties ran or crawled or flew toward the new arrivals. None of them looked friendly, and all of them looked quite capable of inflicting serious damage.
Liam swallowed hard and reached for his gun, trying to figure out the best place to aim on a part man, part horse. “Since I don’t have a sword, I hope my gun still works here.”
Baba nodded, her eyes focused on the enemy ahead. “In some ways, it will work better here than it does at home, since most Otherworld creatures can’t tolerate lead any more than they can cold iron.”
He blew out a breath, marginally relieved to know he still had a functioning weapon. He hadn’t been sure how the strange rules here might have affected something so strongly human in origin.
“Of course,” she added in a matter-of-fact tone, “most of the beings here have never been to your land, so they don’t even know what a gun is. They undoubtedly won’t be afraid of it until you actually shoot one of them.”
“Oh,” Liam said. “In that case, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” But that didn’t keep him from taking the weapon out and holding it in a firm grip. It might not scare the locals, but it sure as hell made him feel better.
Gregori nodded grimly at Baba, a wickedly bright silver scimitar in his hands. “You two go on and find the boy. We’ll take care of this lot.” He and the other two Riders started down the hill toward the oncoming horde, Alexei’s eyes bright with berserker glee.
Liam looked at Baba uncertainly. “Shouldn’t we help them? Three against dozens . . . it hardly seems fair.” Bloodcurdling cries rang out as the wave of creatures surged up around their three companions.
Baba just smiled her secretive little smile, as if she knew something he—and the enemy—didn’t. “It really isn’t fair. Even on a bad day, the Riders could wipe the floor with that bunch without even breaking a sweat. Besides, I think you mean four against dozens.” She pointed up at the sky, where a brilliant red dragon was swooping down from the shadow of the largest moon, causing a ruby-hued eclipse.
“What the hell is that?” Liam asked, as they pelted down the hillside past the gory battle being waged on their behalf. Fur and blood flew through the air, green and blue and crimson.
Baba’s eyes twinkled. “That,” she said, “is Koshei. Glorious, isn’t he?”
And then they just ran, following the glowing light on the edge of Baba’s sword, onward toward a small boy who was depending on them to find him and bring him home.
TWENTY-NINE
THE SHINING HAIR on the silver sword led them through treelined paths of emerald green and past barren shores where crusted eddies of salt were the only evidence of long-vanished seas. Even the weird and uncanny areas had their own eerie beauty, with the exception of some spots where the fabric of the land seemed warped and distorted, crumpled in on itself in sickly shades of olive gray and mottled brown mixed with a twisted licorice black.
As they sidled past a section where rocks had melted into hissing puddles of molten lava that ate away at everything in its path, Liam asked Baba, “Is this normal? I mean, as much as you can use a word like that in a land like this?”
She shook her head, dislodging a lingering cobweb, and glanced around them with a sigh. “No. Not at all. What you’re seeing is the effect of Maya’s overuse of a doorway that wasn’t supposed to exist in the first place. There is a reason that such things are closely monitored and controlled. Magic has its own rules, and when you break them, well . . . bad things happen.”
She gestured at the grim destruction around them. “This is why the queen was so adamant about finding Maya and the doorway and putting a stop to the imbalance. If it goes on long enough, it could destroy the entire Otherworld, or turn it into something even more unpredictable than it already is.”
An odd rustling noise in the underbrush made Liam jump. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t see anything besides straggly brown bushes that dangled with dayglow orange berries, as if someone had glued the contents of a package of Cheetos to a shrubbery. He shuddered, feeling the hairs go up on the back of his neck.
“I think something may be following us,” he said to Baba in a low voice. “Or a bunch of somethings.”
Her full lips compressed into a thin line. “Yep, they’ve been out there for a while. I don’t know if they work for Maya, or are just some curious locals trying to figure out if we’re edible.” At Liam’s startled glance, she waved her sword menacingly. “Don’t worry, they’re not likely to bother us. For some reason, the creatures of the Otherworld find me a bit threatening.” An evil smirk lit her eyes from within.
“Huh,” Liam said, not feeling at all reassured. He tightened his grip on his gun, just in case.
* * *
THE TRAIL LED them to a huge, crooked house like a great mansion built of enormous white boulders and roughly hewn trees, lopsided and misshapen, yet still impressive in its own way. Baba swung the sword to and fro, but it stubbornly insisted on pointing toward the shambling wreck of a dwelling.
“Well, shit,” Baba said with feeling. This was not good. Not good at all.
Liam turned to her, startled. “What’s the matter, did we lose her? Did the hair stop working?”
“Sadly, no,” Baba said, plucking the hair from the sword and tucking it back in her pouch. “Maya is definitely in there. But I know whose house this is, and she’s not going to be happy to see us.” She sheathed her sword, and gestured for Liam to put his gun back in its holster.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “The place looks pretty creepy.”
“You have no idea,” Baba said. “But I assure you, if I can’t talk our way out of this, weapons probably won’t do us any good.”
She led the way up to the massive front door, considered knocking, then shrugged and just walked in, Liam on her heels. Once inside, the entire house revealed itself to be one sprawling, filthy room, lit mainly by the reddish glow of a fi
re laid in a hearth big enough to roast an entire ox with space to spare. Faint additional light slipped apologetically through smudged windows, as if it knew it had no business being there.
Liam smothered a gasp as his eyes adjusted to the murky dimness, and Baba put out a reassuring hand. Not that she felt all that reassured herself.
Maya was there, all right, along with a frightened, crying boy wearing a blue Yankees cap, a yellow shirt, and denim shorts, now torn and dirty, as if he’d been dragged through mud and brambles. Behind the two of them stood a gigantic woman with one filmy eye in the middle of her forehead and a necklace of bones around her neck. The bones looked alarmingly human.
“No wonder the poor kid is crying,” Liam whispered in Baba’s ear. “I’m a little tempted to do it myself. What the hell is that?”
“Not what,” Baba whispered back. “Who. Don’t be rude.” She bowed politely to the giantess and said in a loud voice, “Good day, Mistress Zorica. I am very sorry to intrude upon your home, but this woman has something that does not belong to her and we are here to take it back.”
Maya sneered at Baba. “Pretty words from one who has already lost the battle. I have given the lovely Zorica this child as a gift. You are too late.”
The giantess peered nearsightedly at Baba and Liam. “Baba Yaga, is that you? Why is this any concern of yours?” She pouted, her pendulous lower lip thrust out and sausage-shaped arms crossed over an immense sagging bosom. The ragged dress she wore looked as though it had started life as a circus tent. Twenty or thirty years ago. “I have already given up most of my power in exchange for this child to light up my lonely days. I am not inclined to give him back, to you or anyone else. Go away and leave me be.”
At this, poor Petey cried even harder, and Baba had to hold Liam’s wrist in an iron grip to keep him from going to the boy.
“I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mistress Zorica, but the queen has sworn to punish this woman, Maya, and anyone who aids her. She has caused great injury to the fabric of the Otherworld, and the queen is sorely vexed with her.”
The giantess blanched and covered her single eye with one meaty paw. “I only wanted a little company, Baba Yaga. It is lonely here all by myself. Tell the queen I meant no harm. Perhaps she’ll let me keep the child, yes?”
“No,” Baba said firmly. “You know quite well that no Otherworld denizen may keep a Human child against his will. This boy was stolen from a loving mother. He must be returned to her.”
Her voice softened. “I know your heart was set on keeping him, but perhaps we can find you a nice giant cat instead.” Or maybe something sturdier, like a small pachyderm. “Come with us to court and explain to the queen how Maya tricked you into giving up your power to her, and perhaps Her Majesty will be lenient, and forgive your crime. But it would be better for you to tell her yourself. We’re taking Maya there now; will you come with us and plead your case?”
The giantess wavered and Maya spat on the packed-dirt floor. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Zorica, you are four times her size. You can snap Baba Yaga like a twig, and have her pet Human for dessert. The queen need never know you have the child.” She put on a wheedling smile. “You know you want to keep him. Just kill Baba Yaga for me, and you won’t have to grow old all alone, pitiful and scorned in this ugly tumbledown hovel.”
Zorica scowled, her face as terrible as a summer storm. “What did you say about my house? Humph. You want Baba Yaga dead, kill her yourself.”
“See?” Baba whispered to Liam, whose hand still hovered hesitantly over his gun. “Rude. Not a good idea.” To Zorica, she said, “The queen has declared this woman’s life forfeit to the crown for her crimes. I am taking her in to court. It would be best for you not to interfere.” She bowed again, even deeper.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Maya said, pulling out a sword of her own that glowed a sickly poisonous green in the dim light of Zorica’s huge room. “I’ll kill the boy before I let you take him back. And then I will happily kill you too.” Rage distorted her exquisite face and turned her as ugly as the giantess standing above her.
Terrified, Petey started to wail in earnest, and Maya reached out the hand not holding the sword and delivered a vicious slap across his tear-stained face that sent his small body tumbling to the floor. “Shut up, you stupid little troll. Your noise hurts my ears.”
Baba felt a surge of fury rush up from the toes of her black leather boots and straight to her jewel-netted head. Flashes of lightning seemed to reverberate through the room as she leaped the space between her and the Rusalka, her silver sword in her hand without any conscious intention of drawing it. Since she couldn’t use magic here, and Maya could, Baba knew her only chance was to strike first and end this fight before the other woman could use her advantage.
Luckily, that would be a distinct pleasure.
“You. Do. Not. Hit. Children.” Each word came out with a slashing strike from her sword as she backed the other woman toward the rear of the cavernous house. “Never, ever, again.”
Maya fought back viciously, parrying thrust after thrust, but she was clearly less practiced than Baba, who had spent her formative years sparring in the forest with Alexei until she could fight in her sleep. Finally, a twisting flick of the wrist sent Maya’s sword flying across the room and into the back of a chair, where it hung, quivering for a moment, before the wooden chair started to sizzle and char.
Maya’s crimson-tipped fingers curved into claws, and she barred teeth that suddenly looked sharper than they had a moment before. “You will never take me, bitch!” she shrilled. “Come, fight me with your bare hands and I will show you which of us is stronger!” A shimmering ball of magic began to form in the air above her head.
Liam made a protesting noise as Baba placed her sword gently on the floor. But she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. Besides, it would be rude to turn down such an invitation, and it never paid to be rude in a giantess’s home.
Maya had a moment to gloat before Baba hauled back her arm and punched the Rusalka in the face with every ounce of energy she had. She channeled all her anger over stolen children, tormented farmers, her own ruined reputation, a disintegrating Otherworld, and most of all, every single lie that Maya had told about good, honest, wonderful Liam into one glorious, long-overdue blow. Maya slid to the floor with a whimper and lay still.
“And I think you meant to say ‘witch,’” Baba said to the unconscious form at her feet.
The sound of applause brought her back down to earth, and she turned around to see Liam clapping his hands, a huge grin on his handsome face. Little Petey launched himself across the room and into the arms of the only person in the room who hadn’t terrified him, holding on for dear life, and Liam’s applause turned into a hug as the boy threatened to strangle him with his limpet grip.
“Don’t worry, Petey. You’re safe now,” he said reassuringly, trying to move the boy’s arms from around his neck. “This nice lady and I are going to take you back to your mama.”
Baba looked down at Maya’s limp body. “Just as soon as we run one little errand.” She heaved Maya over her shoulder with a grunt and headed out the door, followed by Liam and Petey, and trailed by a dolorous giantess in a large flowered tent.
“So, Petey,” Baba said. “How do you feel about meeting a real live queen and giving her a present?”
THIRTY
CLOSER TO THE palace, the Otherworld had managed to hold on to its enchanting beauty, although every once in a while Baba spotted a wilting flower or a jagged thorn on a rose that should have had none. As their strange parade neared the throne room, armed guards carrying curved silver rapiers stepped forward to stop them. But one look at Baba and her burden and they just shrugged and stepped aside. The giantess didn’t merit a second glance. This was the Otherworld, after all.
They stepped through a pair of twelve-foot-tall black onyx doors
carved with fantastical animals into a magnificent room with a vaulted ceiling so high, even Zorica was dwarfed by it. Baba heard Liam’s gasp of wonder as he took in the pure white birch trees that grew in measured splendor along a grass-carpeted floor to form a path that led to the throne. A fountain chortled merrily in the middle of the room, throwing rainbows over the crystal chairs scattered nearby. Colorful birds with long, elegant tails flew in and out of its sparkling droplets.
Nobles lounged around the fountain or leaned decoratively against the ivory walls, most of them tall and stunningly beautiful to human eyes. Pointed ears poked through the long golden hair of some, while others had bodies that you had to look at twice to notice appendages that no normal mortal bore. Curious glances followed them as the courtiers cleared a path for Baba and her party as they made their way across the grass until it was replaced by tiles of green malachite and blue lapis, sparkling with gold-inlaid patterns that told tales of days gone by.
The queen and her consort sat on thrones carved from trees that still lived beneath them, sending out roots and buds and leaves like a tapestry around their feet. The queen raised one perfect eyebrow at the sight of her unexpected guests, and let slip a chilly smile.
“Welcome, Baba Yaga,” she said, not bothering to rise. “About time you got here. What on earth have you been up to?”
Baba dropped Maya’s flaccid body to the floor, not particularly gently, and gave a deep bow. Next to her, Zorica did the same, and Liam managed to copy them with reasonable grace, despite the small boy hiding behind him and clinging to one leg.
“Just doing as you asked, Your Majesty,” she said, gesturing toward the unconscious woman. “This is the person responsible for the current imbalance that troubles the Otherworld. She is a Rusalka, and calls herself Maya, at least in the Human world.”
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