by Max Candee
“Where to, princess?” Alyosha asked with a smile. I wasn’t sure if he was making fun of me or not, so I just pointed.
He grinned. “You want to be sure it’s not there, don’t you? Don’t worry, you’re not the first. And it’s a beautiful day; you’ll have a good trip even though it’s not there.”
I just smiled. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I did know it wouldn’t be like anything Alyosha had ever experienced before.
Even though I could imagine what Vodyanoy would have said, I was glad we were using a motorboat. I wouldn’t have wanted to wait all the time it would take to row out there. I couldn’t see anything, but the magic rope — or whatever it was — was still there, leading me on.
Still, Alyosha set a slow pace to make sure I got the good trip he’d promised. Even though it was slower than flying in my bucket, it wasn’t a bad thing; I could make tiny course corrections without him noticing, which he would have if we’d been going faster.
I didn’t say anything to Alyosha even though I could tell he wanted to ask me some questions. I could imagine what they were, and I wasn’t interested in answering. I just let one of my hands slip into the water, pretending I didn’t have a care in the world even as I concentrated on the magic guideline we were following.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I could feel the guideline growing shorter, and I could sense something powerfully magical in front of us, something becoming stronger with every passing moment. The sun was high and quite hot by now, and there was a bit of mist rising around us.
On the opposite side of the sky was the moon, my eternal companion. Looking at it, I wondered if this island was just like my moon, which only I could always see in the sky.
“There, you see, princess?” Alyosha finally said. “This is about where the island ought to be, and as you can see, there is absolutely nothing… Wait… What the…” His eyes were growing huge and his jaw dropped.
“No,” he went on. “No, no, no. That’s not possible. This is… This is totally nuts. I’m having a fever dream. Too much sun. I never woke up this morning. You don’t exist. This is not real.”
Right ahead of us was a small island, the same one I’d seen the evening before, right where it had been when I’d seen it again from the dining room.
Alyosha looked like he was about to have a panic attack. “Okay, this is weird. We are not going there. This isn’t normal. We’ve… We’ve got to get back and…”
He reached for the motor to cut it off or turn around or something, and I zapped his hand. He jerked it back like he’d received an electric shock.
He stared at me. My finger was still pointing at him, and there was no hiding what I’d just done.
“Would you land me on the island, please?” I said quietly. I hoped I didn’t sound threatening, but it must have been pretty clear that the only answer I’d take was a yes.
He gulped, nodded, and set a course for a small beach we could see nearby.
“This is weird,” he said over and over again. “Really, really, really weird.”
He landed us on the sand and, still looking dazed, jumped out of the boat to give me a hand down — and, I think, to check that it was safe first. I hadn’t expected that from him. Maybe he really wasn’t such a bad guy.
I jumped into the water lapping around the boat and walked onto the island. Alyosha followed, staring.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “I really don’t believe this. I mean there’s no island here. I know there’s no island here. The lake is hundreds of meters deep. I mean, they explore with submarines here. So where am I?”
I smiled at him. “Do you think you could get my bag from the boat for me?” I asked. “I forgot to take it.” Actually, I hadn’t forgotten at all, but it seemed kinder to trick him than to let him know what I was about to do.
“Yeah, okay,” he said almost automatically. He climbed back into the boat, picked up my backpack and handed it to me.
Then he looked at me, frowning. “Who are you, anyway?” he asked. Or at least started to ask, because halfway through the last word, I hit him with a soft blast of slow-moving energy that put him right to sleep.
“Sorry,” I said, “but it’s really better for you if you don’t know anything more.” I wondered if there was a way to erase this incident from his mind, but I decided that might be too dangerous for him. Besides, I didn’t have much time. He’d probably just put it all down to sunstroke.
I gave the boat a gentle magic push and it started to float back toward the hotel. I concentrated on it to make sure it was set on its course and would stay that way; then I let out a long breath.
I tried not to think about what he might be asked if someone remembered he’d set off with me and noticed I hadn’t come back with him, especially with the cops around looking for kidnappers. But hopefully, the way he was coming back would keep him from being suspected of anything.
But then again, maybe I’d made a mistake. Everything was so confusing — all the decisions I had to make. Boy, I wasn’t ready to be an adult just yet. I’ve never felt so thirteen than when I stood on that small beach, watching Alyosha’s boat drift toward the hotel.
But now it was time to get down to business.
I took Squire out of my bag. He jumped out excitedly, but then he seemed to cringe. I didn’t blame him; this whole island was heavy with magic as if there were some invisible fog crowding around us, and it all felt too much like Baba Yaga.
But it felt different from that at her hut. I couldn’t quite work it out, but it felt — I don’t know — fresher. Lighter. And older.
A shudder went through me. This was even weirder than arriving at a hut on chicken feet. This wasn’t some bizarre magical spot in the middle of a normal forest. Everything here was magical, every grain of sand under my feet.
I looked around. The beach didn’t take up that much of the island. A short distance up, it turned to trees; not a thick forest, more like a park. It wouldn’t be too difficult to work through.
Still, I had to be careful. There must have been a reason the apple hadn’t wanted me to come here the night before.
“Squire,” I said, “I need you to go fetch Knight and bring back my mop and bucket. Is that all right?”
He nodded.
“Fast as you can, please. And thanks!”
He flew up into the air, waved, and rushed off.
It’s probably safer to wait for him, I thought, even though I don’t want to. I sat down on the sand to think.
The island looked peaceful, but I knew I couldn’t trust that. I wasn’t silly enough to think that invisibility was its only defense. The fact that I could get to it — probably only because I was Baba Yaga’s granddaughter — didn’t mean I could get past whatever else there was here.
For that matter, how would I know if I did find the heart? What did it look like?
I took the apple out of my bag and looked at it. I’ll just have to put it on the ground and hope it can still guide me, I thought.
As I wondered how long it would take the hands to come back, I heard someone singing.
At first, it was just a thin thread of sound that I thought might be the breeze. But then I realized it was more than that. It was a tune, and there were words.
“Slavnoye Mor-r-r-re, Sviyashchenny Baikal…” Someone was singing the words from an old song, “Glorious Sea, Sacred Baikal.”
It was such a strange voice. It was high like a child’s, but there was something else about it. It didn’t sound young, and it didn’t sound quite human — but it was also an incredibly familiar sound.
I stood up and looked around. No sign of the singer. But the song continued:
“Shol ya i v notsh, i sr-r-r-red’ byelovo dnya
Vkr-r-r-ug gar-r-r-adov ozir-r-r-rayasya zor-r-rko…”
I was walking at night and during a bright day, watching for danger around cities… someone sang, studiously articulating every sound, rolling long, thunderous r’s off
his tongue.
I yawned. Why was I suddenly feeling so sleepy? I had so much energy that I shouldn’t have needed to sleep for days. But the sand was so warm in the sun, and it was so tempting to just lie down and take a nap… I felt my eyelids getting heavy.
I slapped myself. This wasn’t helpful. I didn’t have time for a nap. I had to find Baba Yaga’s heart.
The voice was still singing. Was that what had almost put me to sleep?
I had to be careful. I was on an island that disappeared whenever it felt like it. I couldn’t trust anything I heard or saw here.
Deciding not to wait for the hands to return, I put the apple on the ground. “Take me to Baba Yaga’s heart,” I whispered.
It spun to life and began to roll up the slope toward the trees. I noticed it was going slower than it had at any time the day before.
The singing had been getting slower too. It eventually faded out as if the singer had grown tired and dropped off to sleep. But I stayed on my guard as I followed the apple.
The sand turned to grass and we were soon beneath the trees, with the sunlight dappling the ground. It was a beautiful day. At any other time, I would have sat down and just enjoyed the place. It was too bad. Maybe I’ll be able to come back someday, I thought. It might be nice to spend some time here…
That was when a huge cat lying just under a bush to the side of our path whipped out a paw and trapped the apple under it.
I stared. It was the biggest cat I had ever seen, a massive fluffy beast with long gray-and-gold-and-black-and-white fur that his face almost vanished into. His tail was nearly as long as my forearm and so bushy it was probably thicker than my wrist. Stretched out, he would probably be at least as long as I was tall.
Part of me wanted to run forward and snuggle him, but I sensed that would be a bad idea.
He purred and looked up at me out of his mismatched eyes, one a piercing blue, the other just as bright but yellow.
“Mrrr. What have we here?” he asked.
You’d think that by now, I would have ceased being shocked by things. But I hadn’t. Even after the hut on chicken legs and a cat changing into a hare, a giant talking cat was able to surprise me. Especially since I recognized the voice. The cat was the one who had been singing.
He stretched out, rolling off his side onto his feet, still keeping the apple trapped.
“Little human, mrrr,” he said, and yawned. “Wasn’t expecting you.” He batted the apple to one side and grabbed at it with his other paw. The apple spun around wildly but couldn’t get away.
I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I had to speak, though. What was it I had said to Vodyanoy? “Hello,” I said. “I am Anna Sophia, daughter of Koschey the Deathless and—”
“Oh, do I really look like I care who you are, little mouse?” the cat interrupted as he continued to bat the apple from paw to paw. “It’s still no reason for you to disturb my nap.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t mind if you go back to sleep, honestly. I’m just here to—”
“But you did disturb my nap. And even if you hadn’t…”
He let the apple go, and it rolled wildly away from his grip. He pounced, light and fast, and caught it again. He looked back at me.
“I wouldn’t have been too pleased if you’d come by when I was awake either.” He yawned again. “Oh dear, I am weary. In fact, I’m not sure I can be bothered to rip your soul out. So very tiring…” He lay down again, the apple still trapped under one paw while the other poked at it. His huge bushy tail flicked a little as his eyes started to close.
I stared. “Well,” I said, trying to laugh, “I won’t object much if you don’t.”
“Mrrr?” He raised the eyelid of his yellow eye at me. “Oh, dear. You think you’re being clever.” Without warning, he gave the apple a hard push that sent it rushing toward my feet; then he jumped and caught it. He stared up at me, his head as high as my knees, grinning. His teeth looked sharp. “I still might, you know,” he said. “After all, you’re trespassing.”
“I’m here for a reason,” I said. “I need to—”
“Again, I really don’t care. Even if it’s a good reason, you’re still trespassing.”
“It is a good reason! I have to find Baba Yaga’s heart.”
He blinked. “Mrrr. What a strange thing to have to do.” He walked away a little, his tail swishing from side to side. “Koschey’s daughter,” he said. “With that Sereda child, I suppose. Mrrr. What did you say your name was, again?”
“Anna Sophia,” I answered. Maybe we were getting somewhere. “May I ask yours?”
“Mrrr? Oh, I’m Kot Bayun,” he said. “But that’s not important.” He rolled onto the grass, displaying an incredibly soft-looking belly that I really wanted to nuzzle. His eyes were still fixed on me.
“I am awfully tired,” he said, yawning. “Not at my best during the day. If you’d only come at night, I would have really just torn your soul away and been done with it, but it’s such a bother in the daytime … all that blood… Mrrr. Still, it’s not like I can just let you pass. Dreadful example to set…”
I narrowed my eyes at him as he rolled over again, pawing at the air. Maybe I should just blast him out of the way, I thought. If I set his fur on fire, say, I can probably get past him…
He looked directly at me.
“I wouldn’t try that,” he said quietly. “Your little magics won’t work here. But it would still make me rather irritated if you tried.”
I gulped.
“Still … let’s play a game,” he said. “Since you’re here, you might as well amuse me.”
“What sort of game?”
“Oh, the easiest kind. You just have to answer my questions. But, mrrr, you have to answer them correctly.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
He looked at me. And purred. It was not a reassuring sound. “Sophia,” he said, rolling the name over in his mouth. “Tell me, do you know what your name means?”
What sort of question was that? “What?”
“Do you?”
“It’s just a name,” I said. “My name.”
“You’re not answering my question,” said Kot Bayun. He started to lick one of his paws.
“No,” I said, “I don’t.”
“Mrrr. It means ‘wisdom,’ little human. A fine name, though I’m not entirely sure you deserve it. Tell me, what is wisdom?”
I was confused. What was this cat talking about? Why did any of this matter? Was this one of my grandmother’s tricks? I had to remember why I was here.
And anyway, what was wisdom?
“I don’t know,” I said, as steadily as I could. I had no idea how Kot Bayun would take this.
“Mrrr. Well, that’s an honest answer, so I suppose a correct one. But if your answer keeps being that you’re ignorant, I might start getting bored, and we don’t want that, do we?” He rolled over onto his side and continued giving himself a bath.
I didn’t know if I was supposed to say anything, so I stayed quiet. However docile he seemed, I sensed that this cat was dangerous, and not just because of his talk about tearing out souls.
After a while, he looked at me again. “So tell me, Anna Wisdom, do you know anyone wise?”
I thought. “Well … there’s Uncle Misha,” I said. “He seems pretty wise to me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well … he knows so much! He taught me all about the animals and the trees and the other plants, and he just seems to be able to answer any question I have.”
“Do you think he could answer my question?”
I tried to imagine Uncle Misha faced with this cat. “I think he’d just laugh and give you a saucer of cream,” I said.
Kot Bayun hissed, showing his sharp teeth. “He has knowledge,” he said, “but is that wisdom?”
“I don’t know!” I said. “How can I know if someone is wise, when I’m not even sure what wisdom is?”
Kot Bayun purred.
“Correct,” he said. “You’re not quite as dim as you seem, then.”
He was the second person today to call me stupid, and I didn’t like it any more than when Alyosha had done it. But I couldn’t risk reacting the same way. I was just going to have to play the cat’s game, whatever it was.
“Do you think it would be wise for someone to give me a saucer of cream?”
I thought about it. “Wiser than not doing so,” I said eventually.
“So where’s my cream, little mouse?”
“I don’t have any. But I’d give you some if I had.”
“And that would be wise?”
“If you liked cream, yes. And even if you didn’t … it would show I meant no harm, wouldn’t it?”
“Or that you were trying to trick me or bribe me,” Kot Bayun said lazily. “But no matter. You think it would be a wise action, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean that the person giving me the cream would be a wise one?”
“I…” I was about to say “yes,” but then I started to doubt. “I know you don’t want me to say ‘I don’t know,’” I said cautiously, “but … I’m not sure. Would it depend on the intent? I mean, if it was wise to give you cream because you like it, I’d be wise to know that, wouldn’t I? But if I was actually trying to bribe you and you didn’t like being bribed, then it would probably not be a wise thing to do. So even if you did like cream, I’d be unwise to try. But what if I didn’t know that? I’d think I was wise, but I wouldn’t actually be… So…”
I was starting to feel very confused. “So giving you cream might be either wise or not wise, depending on everything else. And … I guess the wise person would be the one who knew which was wiser? But then, how would you…” I stopped babbling. This was not helping.
Kot Bayun delicately rolled the apple between his paws. “So wisdom is knowledge, then?” he said.
“Well … I guess so. I mean, that’s why Uncle Misha’s wise, I think. Except that he taught me all those things about the forest, and, well, I’m not sure that made me wise. Except I know he never managed to teach me everything he knew, so of course it wouldn’t. But…”