Myth's Legend: Norrix

by Ysobella Black

  “I remember when the weirdest thing in my life was my aunt talking about seeing auras or Musette having a Mystical Moment of Madness.”

  “That was only a week ago.” Stryx slid an arm around her waist. “Idris told me you might be an over-achiever.”

  The hood tilted down. “I haven’t achieved a way to wake up Musette.”

  Stryx pulled her close and kissed her temple. “We won’t stop looking until we find a way. There are several options we can purchase at the auction tomorrow.”

  Koschei, an enormous man, tall as Norrix, and broad shouldered, strode around the outside of the house and leaned over the fence, bracing himself over their heads on two skulls. Long black hair hung wildly around his face. He stared down at them, black eyes burning like coals, red pupils smoldering in the centers. “Had I known the Witness wanted the book, I maybe would not have offered vodka.”

  Buyan island. The Gagana bird with its iron beak and copper claws. Garafena, the wise snake. An oak tree. An iron box. A needle in an egg in a duck in a rabbit —

  He wrenched himself out of his memories. Better not to have Koschei thinking Norrix was remembering about that. Fortunately, even Koschei was bound by the rules of Ashana. “Hello, Deathless. I come in peace.”

  Koschei flashed white teeth from his bushy black beard. “You have kept my secret. I have no problem with you unless that changes. Come in. Baba is anxious to speak with you.” He made his way around the side of the cottage toward the front.

  Norrix cleared his throat and hoped he could remember the right words. “Turn your back to the forest, your front to me.” The house spun again, so it faced the three of them, and bent its chicken legs to settle on the snowy ground.

  The bones moaned and creaked when Norrix pushed the gate open. They trooped up the path to the now visible front door and its keyhole — a mouth filled with sharp teeth, but Koschei leaned in the doorjamb, waiting for them.

  He let Norrix pass into the cottage, but stepped in front of Ember and put a hand on her shoulder. “Your disguise is unnecessary here. Please remove the mask and hood. I don’t know what you are, but I can hazard a guess, since these two are vampires and one looks like he wants to murder me.”

  Norrix laughed. “Everyone you meet wants to murder you.”

  “Da. I am quite charming.” He offered a wolfish smile to Ember. “I will not give voice to what I think you are, but you are no Gorgon. Baba’s confused easily lately. She doesn’t need you trying to deceive her.”

  “It’s all right. The disguise isn’t meant to trick you or Baba Yaga.” Ember pushed her hood back and removed her mask.

  Stryx exhaled as she revealed red hair and green eyes rather than her strygoi side.

  The cozy cottage was more welcoming once they made it through the door. Warmth and the smell of borscht cooking in the cauldron hanging in the fireplace filled the air. Several chairs formed a circle in front of it. A hallway led to several closed doors. The shades on the windows lowered almost all the way, giving Norrix the impression they were squinting at him.

  Claws scrabbled over the wood floor. Norrix crouched, holding out his hands to greet one of Baba’s invisible servants. All two hundred pounds of the dog crashed into Norrix’s chest, nearly knocking him back out the door. “I think you’re even bigger than before.” He scratched the blocky head and floppy ears.

  The dog lowered his head to Norrix’s boots, inhaled and barked.

  “You don’t like the ahuizotl, either? Or maybe you don’t like Mush.”

  “Have you seen my ballerina?” Baba Yaga rose from her chair by the fireplace, floated across the room to Ember and seized her hands. Baba Yaga wore her young persona. Smooth skin, long dark hair, but her eyes red-rimmed and feverish, bored into Ember. “I miss her.”

  It was easy to see parallels between Ember and Baba Yaga. It hadn’t been centuries for Ember, but Norrix had no doubt she would spend whatever amount of time it took to get her sister back. Or revenge. Or both.

  “I’m sorry,” Ember whispered. “I don’t know any ballerinas.”

  “You know her! Why do you say you do not when you do?” Eyes wild and unseeing, she changed into her hag appearance — her small, straight nose curved into something beak-like, her skin wrinkled, her hair grayed and her body shrank in on itself. Her hands aged and became skeletal, then her fingers morphed into something claw-like. “I want my ballerina back!”

  Ember winced and tried to pull her hands away.

  Koschei gathered Baba Yaga into his arms and guided her to a chair as he nodded for the others to take seats. He poured Baba some vodka, but she didn’t drink it. She held it in her lap as tears slid down her cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ember whispered. “I really don't know any ballerinas. I would tell you if I did.”

  Koschei took a deep breath and blew it out. “She is losing her mind to grief. Her ballerina was lost to her centuries ago. She used to search Rus one end to the other, then beyond those borders, then the world. Now she searches other worlds, but she’s never found her ballerina.”

  “That’s so sad. Why does she think I know her ballerina?”

  “An oracle said two subsequent people in possession of the book would know where the ballerina is — so either the pale man I took it from and whoever buys it here, or whoever buys it here and the next person. You have seen these men, with white eyes and white hair, da? This one worked for the wolf-faced mage, and was coming here to sell the book and knife before I killed him, so we came instead. Baba sensed a faint trace of her ballerina on the book, so we thought the oracle was right. We saw you looking at the lot and wanted to see what you know.”

  “Why did you kill him?” Stryx asked.

  Koschei grinned again. “Why not?” He poured more shots of vodka. “I didn’t right away. I planned to keep him alive until we knew if his information was accurate. Now I think it was a trap for Baba, but we had to come, anyway. I killed him because he tried to siphon Baba’s magic and my soul.”

  Norrix laughed before he could stop himself. Koschei glared at him long enough Norrix wondered if Zax was going to have to show up again, but Koschei laughed, too. He pounded the table with a fist and distributed shot glasses. Norrix held his up. Koschei clinked them, took Norrix's back, and downed both shots. Ember drank hers and Stryx’s.

  “Nostrovia.” Norrix thanked him for the drink.

  Koschei shook his head. “Never would I agree to become such a creature who could not drink vodka.”

  “What is so amusing about a mage trying to steal someone's soul?” Stryx asked.

  Koschei shrugged. “I am called Koschei the Deathless because I am immortal. My soul was taken and hidden long ago. There is nothing in me for anyone to take.”

  “Have you seen anyone else show interest in the book?” Norrix asked.

  “The woman you knocked over.” Koschei poured more vodka and smirked. “I thought she wanted the book too, but you scared her off before I had the chance to see for sure. No one else.”

  There was no way Norrix was going to allow Koschei to get his hands on his Dragă. But she did know a mage. She wouldn’t be called Esne if she didn’t. Maybe the mage keeping her prisoner knew where Baba Yaga’s ballerina was.

  “Baba Yaga's ballerina is a witch?”

  Koschei nodded. “Baba Yaga's daughter is a most powerful witch.”

  “Did Baba’s ballerina love a vampire?” Ember asked.

  “She would not love a cursed one.” Baba Yaga hissed the last words.

  “Would you consider selling the book to us?” Stryx asked. “Maybe Selene can figure something out about your ballerina.”

  “Selene lives? She vanished a thousand years ago.” Baba Yaga rose to her feet and crossed to Stryx. She peered into his eyes and reached out to grip his chin in one hand, turning his face side to side. “You have your father’s eyes, but I see some of Selene in your face. You may have the book. I cannot read it anyway, so it does me no good.” She slumped into a chair,
a vacant expression on her face.

  Stryx leaned forward. “Maybe all’s not lost. We know someone who works for the Wolf Mage. We found him at the warehouses where they were keeping kidnapped witches. His name is Allister. He might know the same thing the minion you killed knew, and he’ll talk to us. We can ask him when we return home after the auction.”

  “Mages hurt my sister.” Ember put a hand on Baba’s knee. “Whatever we can do to help, we will.”

  “She’s always tired after her lucid moments. She won’t say anything else tonight. I’ll notify the auction the book won’t be for sale tomorrow.”

  Ember sat back. “The promise still stands. You know, we also have a mage in our dungeon. Maybe he knows something. Jael likes asking him for information. During their... polite conversations.”

  Koschei laughed and pounded the table again, sending the shot glasses jumping. “I like this Jael.”

  Ember let out a startled yelp. “Something just jumped into my lap.”

  “Baba’s cat.” Koschei refilled the shot glasses. “We must drink. That feline doesn’t like anyone.” He tossed back half the shots,, leaving the others for Ember.

  She downed them.

  Norrix had better get her out of here or she was going to have the worst hangover of her life tomorrow. He stood and inclined his head at the door when Stryx arched an eyebrow. “You know, maybe don’t withdraw the book and knife quite yet. Let people think it’s still available to bid on. We could let everyone see us pick up the book after the auction in the morning. Perhaps someone will panic when it’s not for sale and approach us.”

  Stryx helped a slightly unsteady Ember up.

  Koschei whacked Norrix between his shoulder blades, nearly sending him sprawling over the invisible dog. “I think I am glad I have not killed you yet, Witness.”

  THURSDAY,

  DECEMBER 12

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  MYTH

  UNABLE TO SLEEP, MYTH sketched the library, brownies, trow, and kobolds into her book. The images wouldn’t turn out right, so she rose and paced in front of the pile of gifts. Was it okay to open them? She would probably never see Norrix again. No matter how much she wanted to. She might be falling in love like a fairy tale princess, but her priority was Fable. That meant it didn’t matter what she wanted or how she felt.

  Should she try to return these? A snort escaped her. Would she have to turn into a pixie too? That would make Fable laugh.

  Myth collapsed into a seat in front of the presents and reached for the top one, turning it over in her hands. She just wanted to pretend a little longer. Her fingers slipped under the tape and the package was half opened before she realized what she’d done. May as well open it the rest of the way.

  Scented candles. She lit them all in the fireplace and lined them in a row on the mantle.

  One opened gift led to another. A small box contained colorful balloons that escaped one at a time, to float in the air as they inflated into animals. So many kinds of candies. An assortment of numbered vases and pots with corresponding sticks, dirt, and seeds. Myth followed the directions and filled one vase with water, then inserted the correct sticks. Flowers bloomed. Roses in red, yellow, pink and orange. When she emptied dirt into a pot and added the correct stick, a leafy maple tree grew.

  She occupied herself by arranging all the new things in her space. Everything Norrix had given her looked right and made her room seem like a home.

  In spite of knowing it could never be, she felt herself fall in love even further.

  Myth put on the hated white dress, the act felt like cramming herself into a box. In Aztlan, she’d thought of it as armor, but she hadn’t imagined she’d have to use it as steel against her resolve to fall in love.

  She plaited her hair into a braid and went to win a knife. It wasn’t up for auction for a while yet, but she enjoyed seeing the variety of wonders in Ashana. Wandering towards the auction, she listened and made up details about people and creatures she saw so she could tell Fable about them when she returned to Aztlan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  NORRIX

  “THEY’RE SERIOUS ABOUT keeping vampires out.” Norrix eyed the length of floor to ceiling windows streaming sunlight into the corridor that led to the auction hall. After walking around in, and flying directly into, the sun with the help of Ember’s magic, the idea wasn’t quite as terrifying anymore, but he still had a healthy case of nerves.

  Ember groaned. “Someone, please turn off the sun.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be our line?” Stryx wrapped his arm around Ember.

  “Anyone who had so many shots of vodka with a drinking buddy who, you know, can’t actually die of alcohol poisoning, would want the sun turned off.” Ember placed a hand on Norrix’s arm. “Okay. I’m ready. Just act like you’re escorting me. It’ll be fine.”

  Norrix bent his arm and pulled her wrist through the crook of his elbow. Stryx walked alongside them as they stepped into the sun. Again.

  Heat warmed his skin. Light shone in his eyes. Feet heavy, he picked them up with the same effort it would take to escape quicksand. Did this passage never end? They walked far too slowly for his liking. He tried to distract himself from possible immolation at any moment. What sorts of relics would they find? For Musette, he would focus on medicinal things, like snake stones, elixirs, amulets —

  “Hey! You three! Stop right there.” A man with hair so light it was almost white aimed a crossbow at them. “Who are you?”

  Norrix winced as Ember squeezed his fingers so hard his bones creaked. The strength in her grip shocked him. Her heart pounded like a war drum, summoning him to battle. His free hand formed into a fist as a wave of bloodthirstiness surged through him. Fury rose, and he eyed the minion who dared get in his way and challenge him. The man deserved to die. Be torn to shreds —

  Further shocking Norrix, Stryx was the eye of the storm. He turned his back on the crossbow wielding man and stood in front of Ember, breaking her line of sight, murmuring, “Your eyes.”

  The War magic taking hold of Norrix receded, and he blinked as his body relaxed. That had been... Unanticipated. The other vampires in the Ildum knew he could be distracted at any moment and had made him their researcher rather than a fighter. He’d felt anger, but not the need to go to war in long time.

  “Who are you?” Crossbow demanded again.

  “I am Xekta. Do you really need more of an introduction? I have a headache like you wouldn’t believe, and I am not in the mood to be crossed.”

  He swallowed, flicked his eyes to her chest, and waved his crossbow. “And those two?”

  “This is Ebeneezer and Bubba.” Ember’s syrupy tone sounded like death to Norrix, entirely too sweet and belying what she wanted to do. Had he not felt the War magic, he’d have no idea she wanted to rip Crossbow’s head off and show him his own dead body. She held up their linked hands. “I think it's obvious why I keep them around.”

  Clio’s succubus friend, Vylaya, rose from her desk at the entrance to the hall and sauntered over. She ran her eyes over Norrix and Stryx. “I’ll say.”

  “Back to work, succubus.” Crossbow took her arm and shoved her toward the desk. She stumbled, but smirked as he staggered. Served the man right for trying to push around a succubus. Skin to skin contact was all a succubus or incubus needed to drain someone of energy or life. The man leaned against a window and motioned for a second pale-haired man coming down the corridor to join him. “No one can go in unless they prove they aren’t a vampire. Anyone else is welcome.”

  “Perfect.” Ember started forward.

  Crossbow held up a hand. “Obviously those two aren’t vampires, but you’ll need to remove your hood and walk in the sun.”

  “Oh, you don’t want me to do that. I’m descended from Gorgons, in case you hadn’t noticed. It's easier to just cover up than to have everyone turn to stone, right? Your bosses won't make much money if I turn everyone to statues and only bid on what I want. Althoug
h they’d have some nice garden statuary to sell at the next auction.”

  “Gorgons!” The minion snorted and nudged his partner, who stared raptly at Ember. “Sure. Whatever. Just remove your hood and walk in the sun. Otherwise you won’t be allowed in.”

  “Well, if you're going to be tiresome about it, I suppose I could turn one of you to stone to prove it. Then the other of you will let me in, correct?” Ember turned her head from one man to the other and back in slow motion. “Let's call it lady’s choice.”

  Ember let go of Stryx’s hand as she stepped towards the men, dragging Norrix with her since there was no way he would let go. “Strike a pose, boys. This will last longer even than a picture, so you'll want to make sure you're not doing anything embarrassing. Eeny...”

  She lowered the mask a fraction of an inch Her hood roiled like snakes slithered under it. “Meeny...”

  Could she actually turn someone to stone? He’d seen strygoi magic do a lot of things over the millennia, but not that. Then again, he’d never seen a vampire walk in the sun, either. The magic was changing. His Witness powers stirred.

  “Miney...” A black snake-like tendril darted out from beneath Ember’s hood and whipped through the air at Crossbow. He swore and staggered backward. More tendrils emerged, coiling on Ember’s shoulders and rearing in the air.

  The second man, who wore a snake around his neck, shoved the first man aside and bowed low. “I apologize for his behavior, Vasilissa.” He spoke with a sibilance that drew his ess sounds out. “Please, enter.”

  Vasilissa. Queen. Haestratus would definitely hear about a Gorgon. If he hadn’t already.

  “Thank you, darling.” Ember shifted her mask back into place and the magic withdrew. She led the way past the guards, only to be stopped at the desk.

  “You’ll need to register your tokens if you intend to bid. Even Gorgons.” Vylaya lowered her voice and leaned forward. “Tell me, can you turn only parts of them to stone when you want to? What I wouldn’t give for magic like that.”