“Please, dear Yaga, help me remember my life. I believe I had a wife and child once, and I want to know what happened to them.”
The Yaga’s eyes sparked with curiosity. “If your soul is more than bear, I can help you remember.” A gate in the fence creaked open, but the Yaga held up her hand. “My price is high. I deal in death and souls. If you enter this house, you won’t come out.”
The Bear Tsar looked back into the forest. He loved the whispering trees and the chattering animals, but he knew it was time to move on. He turned to the Yaga and nodded his great head. “I’m ready. All I want is to remember before I go.”
The porch floorboards creaked beneath the Bear Tsar’s weight and the door widened to let him through. Inside, the house was warm. A cooking pot, large enough to boil ten bears, bubbled over the fire.
“Sit.” The Yaga pointed to a chair growing from the floor. It grew and grew until it was big enough to hold the Bear Tsar, and he sat and rested his old bones. The Yaga brought him a bowl of kvass and a basket of berries, and he ate and drank until his belly was full.
Then the Yaga played music on a five-stringed gusli that sounded like rain chiming on a pebble-filled brook. Memories flooded the Bear Tsar’s mind, clear as the waters of the Silver Stream in summer. He saw a cabin near the forest, smelled the sap of freshly chopped trees, and remembered he’d been a woodsman. He heard his wife singing, felt his child’s soft cheek against his own, and remembered he’d been a father, full of warmth and joy.
But then he saw the Lime Tree at the soul of the forest and remembered asking it for more and more. His heart twisted with remorse for his greed, and he felt burning anger at being cursed to live as a bear.
Tears filled his eyes as he watched his child fight the curse and leave to join the human world. He watched, helpless, as his wife’s heart broke and she wandered to a high cave alone.
The Yaga stopped playing and held the Bear Tsar’s paw.
“I remember,” the Bear Tsar whispered. “I remember it all.” His great body trembled with memories, bitter with loss and regret but sweet with generosity and love.
“Then it’s time to go.” The Yaga lifted the Bear Tsar up and he felt as light as a spring breeze. He turned and saw his great bear body lying still in the chair, and he looked down to see his callused woodsman’s hands. His wedding band shone on his finger, and a bark bracelet woven by his child caressed his wrist.
“What do you take with you to the stars?” asked the Yaga as she led him across the room to the large black gateway to the other world.
“Memories of my wife and child.” The Bear Tsar smiled, stepped through the Gate, and disappeared forever into twinkling darkness.
“Well, Yaga don’t have iron teeth, eat bears, or steal souls.” Elena giggles. “But some parts of the story are true. Yaga do help people remember things and celebrate their lives before they go through the Gate and move on to the stars. That’s what guiding the dead is. As for the bits about the Bear Tsar, I haven’t heard of him, so I’ve no idea if they’re true. My mother might know though.”
The front door swings open and the Yaga woman steps out. “All the guiding is done.” She blows air from her lips dramatically. “Those that were in the house anyway.” She peers into the night, then looks down at me, hands on hips. “I can’t imagine any more souls will turn up now. Not with you here.”
“This is my mother, Valentyna.” Elena glances up at her mother. “This is Yanka. You know, Anatoly’s Yanka.”
Valentyna frowns. “What are you doing in the forest all alone? Your mamochka will be worried sick.”
My stomach twists at the mention of Mamochka. “I grew bear legs,” I mumble. “I had to— I mean, I—”
Valentyna looks down at my legs and her face bursts into a radiant smile. “Bear legs!” she exclaims. “How wonderful.”
I shake my head, utterly confused.
“I’m not sure Yanka wants bear legs.” Elena looks from me to her mother.
“Why not?” Valentyna tilts her head. “They’re wonderful. A gift from the forest. A reminder of all that’s magical and mysterious in the world. How could you not want them?”
“Because I’m human?” My voice wavers, because I’m not even sure of that anymore.
“It’s not your body that makes you human. It’s your soul.” Valentyna picks one of the blankets off the floor and wraps it around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up—body and soul. Elena, help the elk onto the porch and cover him with blankets. He looks like he needs somewhere warm and dry to rest too.”
“Yuri,” I say to Elena as Valentyna ushers me through the door. “The elk’s name is Yuri.”
Inside, the rest of Anatoly’s dogs—Bayan, Pyotr, and Zoya—are sleeping in front of a roaring fire. The sight of them dissolves the last of my worries about the Yaga. Anatoly’s dogs would only relax like this if they felt safe—and if they feel safe, I know I will be.
The mantelpiece curves into a broad smile and the floorboards roll beneath me. I wobble on my feet. Even after everything that’s happened, the idea of a living house is still bewildering.
Valentyna opens the door to a small bedroom. “You can take your wet clothes off in here, and I’ll dry them by the fire. Wrap yourself in blankets from that shelf. I’ll make more tea.”
Valentyna leaves me alone and I peel off my wet clothes. The fur on my legs is cold and damp, and the skin on my arms sticky and wrinkled. It feels wonderful to rub myself dry and cocoon my body in huge woolen blankets.
Valentyna returns, and I sink into the chair I’m offered by the fire. Waves of heat flow over me, making me heavy with tiredness. On the other side of the room, a table is laid with a feast for twenty, but there are no signs of the people I heard laughing and dancing earlier. “Where did your guests go?” I ask, wondering if they really were dead souls who were guided to the stars.
“They left through another door.” Valentyna passes me tea and all kinds of comforting dishes from her table that she says need eating up. The mushroom stroganoff that made my stomach rumble earlier is as delicious as its smell promised. There’s soft dark bread, golubtsy cabbage rolls, and fried potato knish. Everything is delicious, and I feel so much stronger once I’ve eaten. My muscles relax, and a smile lifts the corners of my mouth.
Elena manages to get Mousetrap eating salmon from her fingers. But when he notices me watching, he lifts his nose into the air and announces he’s off to search for mice. He sniffs his way along a skirting board until a knot in the wood widens into a mouse-sized hole. Mousetrap peers into it suspiciously before venturing inside.
Moments later, Mousetrap is darting in and out of holes that open and close as fast as he moves, growling with a mixture of frustration and excitement. Mossy mounds rise and fall around him, and tiny shoots reach up and poke his shoulders when he’s not looking.
“Play fair.” Valentyna throws a stern look up to the rafters. The house groans and the shoots behind Mousetrap sink back into the floorboards.
“I’ve never seen a house like this before,” I murmur.
“Of course you haven’t.” Valentyna smiles. “And I hope you don’t see another for many, many years. Only dead souls are meant to visit Yaga houses.” Valentyna tilts her head and stares at me until I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You look like your mother,” she says finally.
“Mamochka?” My brow furrows. I look nothing like Mamochka.
“No.” Valentyna laughs. “Your birth mother.”
My eyes widen. “You know my birth mother?”
“I met her once.” Valentyna nods. “After she died.”
Valentyna’s words land like stones on my chest. “After she died?” I repeat, clutching at the thought I might have misheard her. All my life I’ve wondered about my birth mother—who she was, why she left me in the bear cave, and whether I’d get to meet her one day. I’ve known nothing about her, not even if she was alive or dead, but that meant that anything was possib
le.
Now the first thing I discover about her is that she’s dead. The knowledge burns, deep in my chest.
Elena sits next to me and rests a hand on my arm.
“I guided Nastasya to the stars.” Valentyna nods. “About twelve years ago.”
“Nastasya?” I reach for my arrowhead necklace. “The Princess Nastasya, like in Anatoly’s stories?”
“Princess?” Valentyna chuckles and shakes her head. “Anatoly can’t tell a story without embellishing it in some way. Nastasya wasn’t a princess, but she was your birth mother. And she was strong and brave and kind. Like you, if what Anatoly tells me is true.”
“How did she die?” I whisper.
“She came here fresh from a battle with Smey, the fire dragon in the north.”
“Smey is real?” The arrowhead slips through my fingers, slicing a cut in my thumb. The stinging pain is the only thing that makes me sure I’m not dreaming.
“Smey is very real, and very dangerous.” Valentyna’s eyebrows fall, throwing shadows over her eyes. “He’s full of anger.”
“Then why would my birth mother go to fight him?”
“She was trying to rescue your father. He was trapped in Smey’s cavern. I’d imagine Anatoly has told you the tale of the great battle between your mother and Smey.”
I nod, remembering all the details of Anatoly’s story. Nastasya’s husband—my father—dropped into swirling dragon fire. Grief tearing through Nastasya. Smey, tumbling through the sky and collapsing upon her. I stare into the fire, unblinking. Could my parents really have been killed by a fire dragon?
My thoughts churn and clash, like meltwater and ice in a swirling eddy. I don’t know whether to disbelieve the story, or grieve for my parents, or be angry with a creature I’ve never seen. I don’t even know what a fire dragon is.
“Anatoly might embellish his tales, but there’s always truth in them.” Valentyna reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Your mother fought valiantly. But she died.”
A tear trickles down my cheek, and as I wipe it away, a vine falls from the rafters and wraps around my shoulders in a strange kind of hug.
“Then your mother came here.” Valentyna glances around the room proudly. “We ate and drank and sang and danced. She took courage to the stars, and her only regret was not being able to watch you grow. She loved you dearly.”
“She loved me?” Something hard and tight unknots in my chest. I turn to Valentyna, to see if her eyes are honest, but she’s blurry through my tears.
“Your mother loved you as the stars light the sky!” Valentyna beams and my heart swells until I think it might burst. “She didn’t want to leave you, but she knew your grandmother would take care of you.”
“My grandmother?”
“The Bear Tsarina.”
I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
“Are you all right?” Valentyna peers at me with concern.
“The Bear Tsarina is my grandmother?” I whisper.
“Well, of course she is.” Valentyna chuckles. “Isn’t that where you’re going? To visit her and talk about your legs?”
“I was on my way to the bear cave.” I nod. “But I didn’t know the Bear Tsarina is my grandmother.” Stories of enchanted trees and curses and bears and fire dragons swirl through my mind and excitement buzzes inside me. I’m so close to discovering the truth of my past. “The Bear Tsarina is my grandmother,” I say again, rolling the words around my mouth, to see how they taste and feel. I wasn’t abandoned in a bear cave, I was left with my grandmother. “So the Bear Tsar …”
“Was your grandfather.” Valentyna nods. “I guided him to the stars too.”
“And their child, the one who was cursed to be a bear, but fought the curse and became human …”
“Your father.” Valentyna nods again.
Her words are like fireworks, throwing back the shadows in my mind. “These legs are because of a family curse?”
“You could think of them as a gift instead of a curse.” Valentyna smiles.
I look down at my feet and frown, thinking about Mamochka’s too-wide smile and Sasha’s look of horror. “So am I meant to be a bear or a human?”
“Only you can answer that.” Valentyna chuckles. “But if you want to know more about being a bear, then visiting your grandmother is a good idea.”
The house lurches sideways, and Valentyna nearly falls over. I grip the arms of the chair, but the whole thing skids across the floor. Anatoly’s dogs wake and bark at the rafters. The fence bones clatter and Yuri screams from outside on the porch.
“House. Sit down!” Valentyna yells. “Nobody said we’re going anywhere yet.”
But the house surges up and up. Plates slide off the table and smash onto the floor.
“What’s going on?” I ask, but my voice is lost in the chaos.
“Come and see!” Elena shouts. She beckons me to an open window. I sway across the tilting floor, kneel next to her, and grip the windowsill. Outside, the forest flies past. A branch bangs into the wall and I jump.
“It’s all right. Look.” Elena points down. “The house is walking, that’s all.”
The ground is far below, almost invisible in the darkness. The house’s chicken feet pick their way between trees. Then its legs extend, lifting us higher. We rise above the snowy treetops, and the moon appears, fat and bright.
My heart accelerates as the house picks up speed. The house jumps and my whole body lifts, weightless. Elena squeals in excitement and I gasp in a mouthful of icy air. I feel the rush of sledding, a thousand times over.
“House! Stop running.” Valentyna hits the rafters with a broom. Her face is red and her headscarf is coming undone. “When are you going to stop being so impulsive and start behaving sensibly?”
Mousetrap leaps onto my shoulder. “I know where the house is going,” he trills into my ear.
“Where?” I shout, wind rushing through my hair.
“I told the house we came into the forest looking for cod, so it’s taking us fishing.”
Laugher bursts out of me. Because although I’m not looking for cod, and I’ve just found out my parents were killed by a fire dragon and my grandmother is a bear, and I’m not sure what I’m meant to be … it feels incredible to know that my birth mother loved me, and there’s magic in the forest, and truth in Anatoly’s stories. It feels like there are wonders to discover around every bend of the river.
“We’re following the Silver Stream.” Elena points to a curve of moonlit water shining between the trees. But I’ve spotted something else in the distance, and a thrill runs through me as I realize we’re moving toward it: the Blue Mountain—where my grandmother’s cave is. Stars sparkle above its shining peak.
“House! Stop running!” Valentyna shouts, and bangs the rafters again, but the house speeds into a rolling gallop. Anatoly’s dogs quiet, Yuri stops screaming, and Elena sits next to me, smiling at the view whizzing past.
Valentyna continues shouting at the house. But I don’t want the house to stop running. I want it to carry me into a future in which I know all the stories and secrets of my past.
The house settles opposite a small cabin on a quiet bend of the Silver Stream. Mist rises from the water and glows in the moonlight. And to the west, the ice-capped peak of the Blue Mountain glistens with reflected stars.
I rise to my feet, bursting to find my grandmother. “Thank you, for the food and the ride—”
Elena puts a finger to her lips and points at Valentyna. She’s asleep in a chair by the fire.
“I have to go,” I whisper, stepping over broken crockery and sleeping dogs to reach my clothes on the drying rack.
“I know this place.” Mousetrap sniffs the air. “It’s the perfect spot for cod fishing.” He jumps through the open window and sprints away into the darkness.
Something between a groan and a growl rumbles in my throat.
“What’s wrong?” Elena asks, oblivious to what Mousetrap said.
“
Mousetrap’s run off to go fishing.” I pull on my skirt, sweater, and coat as fast as I can. “I have to find him; I don’t want to lose him in the forest.”
“I’ll come and help.” Elena skips silently after me, stopping to lift a shawl and headscarf from a hook. The door swings open ahead of us and we step out into the cold night.
The Silver Stream bubbles and burbles alongside us. Only a thin line of ice remains clinging to its banks here. The moon and stars are distorted in its waters, throwing silver-tipped shadows into the night.
I take a few steps away from the house, then listen for Mousetrap but only hear the river and Yuri’s snores from the porch. “Mousetrap!” I call in the loudest whisper I dare, not wanting to wake Yuri or Valentyna.
“Human girl!” Mousetrap’s voice drifts from the black outline of the cabin ahead. It must be another of Anatoly’s. The lightless windows and smokeless chimney tell me he’s not inside. I’m glad. Right now, all I want is to make sure Mousetrap is safe, then find my grandmother.
“Mousetrap!” I call again, walking toward the sound of his voice. Elena follows, pulling her shawl tight against the damp air. The house creaks as it tries to creep after us, but Elena turns around and throws it a stern look that reminds me of Valentyna, and it slumps back down, its roof frowning.
“Over here,” Mousetrap trills, and I spot his silhouette on an upside-down canoe at the side of the cabin. “You can use this to watch me fishing from the water.”
“We can’t go fishing now. I need to go to the bear cave.” I beckon to him, but he doesn’t come.
“Fishing is always best by moonlight.” Mousetrap shivers with excitement and I realize that although I came into the forest looking for answers, he really did come here looking for cod.
“We could go fishing tomorrow night,” I suggest. “You can’t be hungry after all the salmon you just ate in the house.”
“Are you talking to Mousetrap?” Elena’s eyes widen.
I nod. “Ever since I grew these legs, I’ve understood him.”
“That’s amazing.” Elena beams. “I wish I could talk to animals. What does he say?”
The Girl Who Speaks Bear Page 9