by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney
Wolf glared at him as he floated toward the house. He was extremely displeased at his helplessness, and there wasn’t anything Ivan could do except watch.
Baba Yaga hummed to herself, setting Wolf next to Ivan.
“There. Now we’re all here. Well. Not all.” She cackled again, evidently finding that amusing.
She turned and pinned him with her black gaze. He swayed on his feet, rocked by the punch of her power. He had no defense against it.
Baba Yaga rolled him under with her power, and she grinned that terrifying grin the entire time.
“Now, little prince, let us discuss your visit. You sought to take what is mine.”
No choice but truth.
“Yes.”
Wolf growled.
Baba Yaga nodded. “Yes, Wolf, I agree. That was very stupid. He should learn to listen to you. He should learn to listen to others in general, but you particularly. Without you, this fool’s errand is doomed. It must needs both of you.”
She walked toward him, and he twitched in her hold. He couldn’t move, couldn’t get away. Anger began to rise, pushing fear into a corner. By the time she stood in front of him, rage had the upper hand.
“Temper, temper,” Baba Yaga chided. “You are a bit of a hothead, aren’t you? Do you know what happens if I don’t help you?”
Ivan didn’t reply, pressing his lips together.
She leaned in, close, her cheek alongside his and her mouth a fraction of an inch from his ear. “Royal flesh and blood are sweet, little prince. It has been a very long time since I ate anyone so tasty as you.”
She paused, her breath warm against his chilled skin. She gripped his face in one bony hand and tilted his head, then licked up the side of his neck and over his cheek. The scrape of her iron teeth burned his skin.
Ivan made a noise in his throat as his whole body tried to shrink from her touch but was prevented by her magic. He was glad at that moment that he couldn’t move. He would have tried to kill her, futile though the attempt might be.
Wolf growled again, drawing Baba Yaga’s attention. She stilled, her lips against Ivan’s jaw. Her teeth sizzled against him and she pulled away.
“Yes, of course. I owe the prince a story. I’ll get to that. First we must deal with the little problem of the prince trying to steal what is mine. So, little prince, what do you have to say?”
He swallowed his anger and tried to be diplomatic. “I would have left payment.”
“Would you, now? What payment for the golden stallion?”
“I brought gold.”
“Gold. Bah. What use have I for gold? You’ll have to do better than that.” She stepped away from him and released her hold with a flick of her fingertips. “You have a choice now, little prince. You meet my terms or you do not. If you do not meet my terms, you will fail, because I know the one thing you must know for your quest to succeed.”
Ivan wiped a hand over his cheek and neck. The burns from her teeth still stung.
“What is that?”
She laughed. “Why should I tell you? Perhaps it will be part of the bargain.”
Ivan ground his teeth together. He would just have to play this out her way. They were already wasting precious time. If it sped things up to let the old fae lead, so be it.
“Come along, little prince. Bring Wolf with you.”
She disappeared into the hut, and Ivan considered making a break for it. Wolf gave him a look that said more than words how stupid that idea would be.
He huffed out an angry breath and followed Baba Yaga into the hut.
Chapter Seven
‡
He’d been right about one thing. The inside of the hut was wildly different from the outside. Inside was spacious, with fine furnishings and comfortable appointments. There was an enormous wood stove in the center of the room, the fire roaring in its iron belly. The back wall held a long table with various urns and jars. They were all labeled, but it was too dim back there for Ivan to read the labels from where he stood just inside the door.
To the side, near the stove, was a small table and a chair. He saw no bed, no pallet, no place for her to sleep.
The strangest thing about the inside of Baba Yaga’s hut, though, was the windows. There were windows on every wall, and they looked out into the forest and beyond. From these windows, he could see the palace of the Rus. It wasn’t like a window directly to the palace. Instead, he could see everything between here and the palace, and if he focused on any specific point, it became larger and clearer. He hadn’t even known that was possible.
Wolf brushed past him and moved to one side, keeping as far from the stove as possible.
Ivan exhaled and closed the door. He could only hope he’d be able to open it again if necessary. Somehow he suspected that if it became necessary, it was already too late.
“Do you know why Deathless is Deathless?” She picked up an apple and ate it in two bites.
“I’ve been told that he hides his soul outside his body. So long as the soul is hidden and safe, he cannot be killed.”
“Mmmm. Close enough to the truth. It’s not his soul, exactly, but his life force. The idea is the same, though,” Baba Yaga told him, moving to the table at the back of the room.
“I’ve also been told he takes the souls of those he kills, and power along with it.”
“True, true. Not souls exactly, but he takes them. But he can’t use all the power. Some of it doesn’t like him, some of it won’t work for his body, and some of it he doesn’t know how to use. Still, he’s gained enough to make him dangerous.”
Ivan raised a brow, though her back was turned. Dangerous even to her? That would be dangerous, indeed.
“Oh, I hear you thinking back there, little prince. Yes, even to me, though not yet. He’s working up to me. I know his secret, after all.” She shook her head and ate another apple. Two bites. “You will owe me a boon. And we must bargain for the horse. You will need him.”
“I am not committing to an unknown boon,” Ivan told her.
She waved a hand, and he felt the power stir in the room. “Of course not. One thing shall I tell you for the story you gave me. The boon is for the second story, though it’s less a story and more a…hm. More directions. But you need them. So, the story first, for it is owed.”
Baba Yaga crossed over to the stove, carrying a small pot. She set it on top of the stove and studied Wolf.
“This one is the curse-ridden beast. In case you hadn’t figured that one out.”
The wolf shook his head. “I have no part of this.”
Baba Yaga just looked at him and ate another apple. This time it was three bites. “Of course you do. Do you know your name, Wolf?”
“No. I have no memory from before.”
“From before the curse? You are a beast. You are cursed. It is clearly you. But I will tell you that even without that, I would have known you for part of this. You and your wife were both cursed by Deathless, cursed into beast forms before his magic had grown so powerful.”
Wolf began to shake, his eyes rolling in his head.
“Wolf!” Ivan crossed the distance to the wolf and laid a hand on his head.
“Oh, for the love of Veles,” Baba Yaga muttered, waving her hand and stilling Wolf.
Ivan barely restrained himself from glaring at her. It wouldn’t help and could hurt them both.
Baba Yaga went back to the table, murmuring to herself. Wolf remained frozen, but not unconscious. It looked uncomfortable, but at least he wasn’t passing out.
Baba Yaga’s magic crawled over Ivan like tiny, burning insects. He had a moment to be grateful it wasn’t aimed at him before it crashed into Wolf and lit him up like a lighting orb. He’d never seen magic do that. Not ever.
Ivan tensed, preparing to defend Wolf, though he had no idea how. Before he could do anything, the magic retreated, leaving Wolf limp.
“That should do it,” she muttered. “Can’t reverse the curse, though. Only way to do that is
kill Deathless.”
“Deathless cursed him?” Ivan was pleasantly surprised at how steady his voice sounded.
“Yes, yes. The bird you seek is also sidhe, cursed by Deathless for capturing him and holding him. This one is her husband. He broke free at the end of the spell, which is why he isn’t bound to Deathless the same way she is.”
Ivan’s legs were abruptly weak. He forced himself to remain standing, but he swayed. “The firebird is Marya Morevna.”
Baba Yaga grinned that terrifying iron grin at him. “You know the story, then. Yes. Deathless bound her to that form and bound part of her magic to the palace so she can’t escape him. Though lately, the tether is weakened.” She paused, tapping one long finger against her jaw. “I’m not sure why, but I think it is something about the princess.”
“Princess Vasalisa,” Ivan said, wanting to be sure they were talking about the same princess. For all he knew, Koschei kept a half dozen sidhe princesses locked in his castle. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the teeth?
She gave him a sly look. “Yes, Prince. You speak to her in dreams. It’s probably that magic which allows her to resist his…overtures.”
Ivan snarled. He knew what Koschei did to Vasalisa. He’d seen the results first hand.
“Calm yourself, Prince. See, your wolf is coming around.” This time she grabbed a joint of meat and ate it, bones and all, in half a dozen bites.
Ivan looked away, turning to Wolf, who shook his head carefully. He moved tentatively, as if things hurt.
“Wolf? Are you injured?”
Wolf swayed on his paws. “No. Not injured.”
Baba Yaga huffed out an impatient breath. “Enough wasting time. You remember now?”
“Yes,” Wolf said slowly. “I remember everything.”
“Do you remember how Deathless was drained of his magic?”
Wolf turned his head to look Ivan square in the eyes. “Yes, but it won’t work now. Besides, the only option is to kill him. Until he dies, the curse lives in both of us.”
“By both of us, you mean yourself and the firebird?”
“Marya. How could I have forgotten my beloved Marya?” The words were so soft, Ivan barely heard them.
“Was it cruel of the magic to keep the knowledge from you when you could do nothing about it?” Baba Yaga’s question was sharp enough to cut flesh.
“A question for another time, Lady,” Ivan interceded. “As you pointed out, we have little enough.”
“True, Prince. Perhaps now that you have my response to your story we can negotiate for the horse you tried to steal.”
“Not steal. I intended to pay for it.”
“With gold, yes, I remember. I have no need for that metal.”
“You’d prefer another? I am happy to provide silver.”
She laughed at him. “No, Prince. I’d prefer another currency altogether, but I find I must deal with you less harshly than I would like. You will provide me with iron ore weighing the same as the horse, silver in your weight, and two days service. You will also provide me with six flagons of your blood and three of the golden apples. That is the price for the horse.”
Ivan opened his mouth, then closed it again. It was a high price to pay for the horse, more than it should be worth. But not more than he could or would pay in this case. The apples were easily given, and the iron and silver weren’t difficult to obtain. He needed that horse. But the blood. That could have repercussions.
“You need the golden stallion more than you know, Prince,” she told him.
It was unnerving how she read him so easily.
“I am not going to leave my blood with you to work spells against me from afar.”
“It’s not for spells, Prince. If you would prefer to provide flesh, that can be arranged. You’ll miss the blood less. There will be no blood left when you leave this place.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. She aimed to eat from him. So be it. If he could be assured that there would be no lingering repercussions, then it would be acceptable.
“I will have a binding vow on that before I open a vein for you, Baba Yaga.” He used her name deliberately, though he was fairly certain it wasn’t her true name.
“Do you seek to true name me, little prince?” She looked amused.
“No. That is not your true name any more than little prince is mine.”
“You may call me Babushka, little prince. You may have your vow that I will not retain any of your blood for magical purposes after you leave this place.”
Ivan shook his head. “A vow to the Wild Hunt that you will retain nothing of mine, will use nothing of my possessions or body, of the possessions or body of Wolf, for any purpose magical or mundane beyond the specifically negotiated terms of our agreement.”
“Clever,” she murmured. “Very well.”
“The bargain, then. I, Ivan Frostbreather, son and heir to Yddris Icemage, king of the Northlands, and his queen, Margarethe the Wise, do swear to do you, Baba Yaga, Bone Witch of the Bashk, to deliver iron equal in weight to the golden stallion, silver equal in weight to me, three golden apples from my father’s orchard, the next forty-eight hours in which I shall perform services for you, and six flagons of my blood, contingent upon free and clear ownership of the golden stallion, to include receipt of same and the ability to utilize it without interference, the safe passage of myself, the horse, and Wolf from your lands at completion of service, the previously mentioned information required for my quest, and the previously stated vow to the Wild Hunt.”
Baba Yaga smiled. “You are thorough.”
He remained silent, waiting for her to complete the bargain.
After a moment, she moved to stand in front of him. Then, slicing a palm with one sharp fingernail, she held her hand over Ivan’s head. A single drop of blood landed in the center of his forehead.
Pain sliced through him. The blood carried her magic, and her magic was bound to blood and bone. He felt his skin absorb the drop, felt it sink through his flesh into his bones.
He heard her repeat the vow through the haze of pain. He understood the pain served a purpose, he could feel her magic melding with his bones and giving him…something. He just didn’t know what.
The magic released him, and he sagged, barely able to stand.
“That’s the bargain done,” Baba Yaga said cheerfully, turning away. “Since you stipulated that you will begin your service immediately, let us start with the first blood. After that, I’ve some…chores for you.”
Somehow he did not find that reassuring.
*
The tasks were tedious. He sorted grain, cleaned, and generally did all the ridiculous tasks she required. Between Ivan and Wolf, they were able to get the tasks done quickly.
Hhe and Wolf worked through the night clearing the weeds from the millet and rue in the garden.
Baba Yaga appeared just after sunrise to call them in to eat. Baba Yaga took another flagon of blood, then drank it straight from the container. She devoured a chicken and a large roast before using her bread to sop up every drop. Even the sight of her relishing his blood didn’t put Ivan off his meal. He’d used enough craft last night he needed the fuel.
“The task now is different,” Baba Yaga told them, leaning back in her chair. Her iron teeth were slightly muddy from the blood.
“I am at your service, Babushka,” Ivan replied.
“You’ll appreciate this one, little prince. A small quest, if you will. I need you to retrieve a chest for me. It is an iron chest buried under an oak tree.”
Ivan raised his eyebrows. “I am happy to retrieve it, if only you will tell me where this oak tree might be found.”
“Very clever, little prince. The tree itself is easy to find. It is on an island in the ocean, in a garden beside the central well. The tree is the only oak on the island, and the only tree in that garden.”
“And where is this island?”
Baba Yaga smiled. “That is the challenge. The island is Buyan.”
> Of course it was. Ivan sighed. “And may I use the golden horse for this?”
“Certainly. I’ll take my next three payments of blood now, though, prince. I suspect it may take you a bit of time to accomplish this task. Tick tock.”
He nodded then turned to Wolf. “While I’m giving blood, please scry for the island. We’ll need to move quickly since the island disappears every evening and reappearing somewhere different the next day. If we don’t get there by sunset, we will not be able to complete the task in time.”
“That would be a terrible shame,” Baba Yaga said.
Ivan turned back to her, fighting an unexpected smile. “You know, Babushka, I could learn to like you.”
She blinked at him in surprise. “You are an unexpected one, little prince. Go on, Vanya-Wolf. You may use my stove for the fire.”
Wolf grabbed the carcass of Baba Yaga’s chicken and went to scry. Ivan held out his arm to allow Baba Yaga to get what she wanted.
By the time she’d pulled the blood into the containers, Ivan was feeling a little light headed. Giving up so much blood, combined with lack of sleep and continual labor, wasn’t doing his body any good. He needed more nutrients. He’d eat on the trip to Buyan.
*
The golden horse had such a smooth gait, it wasn’t like riding at all. Wolf sat before him on the saddle, balancing uncomfortably using a combination of skill and craft.
Ivan chewed the last of the dried meat. He’d offered some to Wolf, but Wolf hadn’t wanted any. Wolf was focused on directing the golden stallion toward Buyan.
They’d left immediately after Wolf had completed his scrying, heading west. When Ivan had asked about the location of the island, Wolf had growled at him. It was confusing, so he had tethered the location to himself, so he was drawn toward the island. In that way, he could ignore the contradictory signs and go directly to Buyan. It also meant if they missed the island because of sunset they could locate it again in the morning.
Ivan had shrugged. It was a sensible answer to a thorny problem, and better than he had hoped. Unfortunately, it meant they were going in a straight line and damn the consequences.