by Catie Rhodes
Normally, I’d ask Priscilla Herrera what Miss Ugly wanted. Priscilla wasn’t nicey-nice, but she always helped. Now she couldn’t. She’d been blocked.
Orev had been taken away just like Priscilla, and I had no idea how to get him back. The thought pissed me off. Orev probably could have shown me a great deal of insight into Miss Ugly. But not now.
Wade had been my security. The man who always knew what to do and whose loyalty would keep him in my corner long after he should have gone home. Besides, if Miss Ugly took a bite out of me, he’d heal it. Easy. But he had been gone for months.
I wished for the past, wished for things to be the way they had been even a week before Miss Ugly showed up. It hadn’t been great, but it had been better than this. But yesterday was gone forever.
I pulled my thoughts off myself and glanced over at Cecil. He’d taken his hand off his chest, but sweat poured down his face.
Too weak to get up and go to him, I said, “Papaw, are you okay?”
He nodded. “Just a little shock, that’s all. Shelly and I came by to ask about your burglar. We did not expect to see that thing climbing up your legs.”
Maybe Cecil could help. “You’ve now met Miss Ugly. She thinks I stole her lantern. She said she’d reward me with kindness if I gave it back.” Saying what I had to do aloud only made it sound more impossible.
When was the last time I woke up in the morning and didn’t have a bunch of crazy stuff hanging over me? Back in Gaslight City. Back when Memaw was still alive. Back in the lost past. Pining for the past now, or trying to live there, would get me eaten. I needed to let it go but couldn’t.
“What is that spot on your forehead?” Shelly got up from Cecil’s side and approached me. She leaned down to stare at me.
“It’s a cut that monster made on her.” Tanner leaned back on both hands.
Shelly pulled a tissue out of the pocket of her tight slacks and dabbed at the cut. She examined the dot of blood on the tissue, made a face, and dropped it in my lap.
“You know what I thought it was, just for a second there?” Shelly got my chair from beside the table and sat down, crossing one leg over the other as though we were at a dinner party.
I shook my head, too tired to answer, and not sure I cared at this point.
“A third eye.” She waited for a response, but nobody moved. We were all too tired. “When I was a teenager, after my mother threw me out, I lived with a very nice family as their maid. One of the other maids, an older Italian lady, believed she had a third eye.” Shelly put her fingers to her forehead to demonstrate. “She was always going on about her third eye showed her this or that. I figured she just listened at doorways. I ran away later that year and forgot about it. But when I saw that mark on your forehead, it all came rushing back.”
I thought about my magic, the part of the mantle not blocked off from me. Was a third eye part of that? I had no idea, nor did I have a clue how it would help me. Before the trouble with Miss Ugly, I had always depended on Priscilla to tell me what to do next.
But now Priscilla wasn’t here. I’d have to research the lore on the third eye myself. That would be the only way I’d get any kind of idea. Was this how things worked for Mysti?
I got out my phone and did a search on third eye folklore. “This says the third eye allows vision beyond ordinary sight. Religious visions, chakras, precognition, out-of-body experiences.”
Nobody spoke. I read a little more. Nothing resonated or sounded like it was within my abilities. Experience had taught me that the supernatural manifested differently for each person. I closed out the tiny web page in frustration. Miss Ugly might not have even been trying to point out a third eye. She might have meant she intended to eat my brains first.
Hannah’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. “I got curious about the Slavic folklore that Mysti mentioned and did a little research.” Hannah watched me, waiting for me to say I remembered what Mysti said.
I shrugged. I had put it out of my mind as soon as the conversation was over.
“The folklore character is called Baba Yaga. The folktale is actually Russian in origin.” Talking about this had Hannah sitting up straighter, a light in her eyes that I rarely saw anymore.
I tried to stay focused.
“In this story, Baba Yaga lived in a house with a porch made of bones. The house’s lock was made of human teeth, and the house itself sat on a huge chicken leg.” Hannah, more excited than ever, talked with her hands.
I hated to discourage her but had to speak up. “I didn’t see Miss Ugly’s house. All I saw was the clearing where she had her cauldron set up.”
“With the skulls around it.” Hannah nodded, not discouraged in the least. “The most popular folktale about this Baba Yaga stars a beautiful young girl named Vasilisa the Fair.”
“Am I Vasilisa the Fair?” I grinned, caught Tanner watching me, and ducked my head. How could I possibly be shy with this guy? He’d saved my life twice today. I glanced back up. Tanner winked at me. I swallowed hard.
Hannah, seeing the whole exchange, smiled wickedly at me. If I had been closer, I’d have kicked her. Hannah continued, “I think Vasilisa was blond, probably taller too. In the story, Vasilisa’s mother is dead, and her father has married an awful woman who has two daughters older than Vasilisa.”
“This sounds like Cinderella,” Tanner said.
“It does have some of the same elements.” Hannah nodded. “But in Vasilisa the Beautiful, the father leaves her with the wicked stepmother and the two lazy stepsisters. The story takes place in a time when electricity does not exist. The family has to keep one candle lit so they’ll have something to light the other candles from.”
“Sounds dire.” I glanced at Tanner, and we exchanged a secret grin.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Anyway…one of the lazy stepsisters puts out the last candle. The wicked stepmother sends Vasilisa to Baba Yaga’s hut in order to get light from Baba Yaga. When Vasilisa gets there, Baba Yaga holds her prisoner and makes her do chores in exchange for the light. I’m thinking maybe the light mentioned in the folktale is the lantern Miss Ugly wants from you.”
Lantern. She’d finally mentioned a lantern. This had to be it. I sat up straight. “You’re finally going to talk about the lantern?”
“Yep. Once the chores are done, Baba Yaga gives Vasilisa a skull on a stick with burning coals inside, and that’s her lantern.” Hannah dug around on my table until she found my cigarettes. She lit one with relish, throwing her head back and jetting smoke at the ceiling.
“I want one of those,” Cecil said in a weak voice.
“Not just no, but hell no.” Shelly stood, marched over to her husband, and motioned him to get up. “I’m going to get Papaw something cool to drink. If you young people need us…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she pulled Cecil to his feet and nearly dragged him out of the tent. Hannah and I raised our eyebrows at each other. Shelly must have gotten more serious about Cecil not smoking.
“Let me get this straight.” I reached for the cigarettes, and Hannah gave them to me. “Miss Ugly’s is really Baba Yaga, and Baba Yaga’s lantern is a skull on a stick.”
Tanner began shaking his head before I finished asking the question. “Baba Yaga is the name of the character in the folktale. Everything said in the folktale may not be how Miss Ugly is choosing to present herself to you right now.”
I remembered what Mysti had said now. The folktales reflected some scared person trying to process what they’d experienced and warn others. I digested what I knew. "So what now? Do we go find a skull and a stick? Stick ’em together?”
“I doubt it’s that simple.” Tanner got up, brushed the dirt off his nice-looking behind, and went to stand near the door.
“I tend to agree with Tanner,” Hannah said.
“Where did Vasilina leave the skull lantern in the folktale?” I was getting frustrated.
Hannah giggled. “It’s Vasilisa, not Vasilina.
”
Tanner laughed. “I like Vasilina.”
“That’s because you’re a man.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “In the folktale, Vasilisa carried the skull lantern back home. Fire came from its eye sockets and burned her stepmother and stepsisters to ash. Vasilisa buried the skull in the garden and went on to marry a rich dude.”
“Then all we need to do is fly to Russia, find where Vasilisa lived, and excavate her garden?” I dragged on my cigarette, enjoying the banter in spite of the night’s horror.
Tanner, still standing by the flap leading outside, laughed. “No. You both forgot something. Finding magical items is what I do. Let me set some things up next door, and I’ll come back to get you.” He lifted his shirt off his chest and examined the scratches left by Miss Ugly’s fingernails. He squirmed with discomfort.
“There’s mild poison in Miss Ugly’s fingernails,“ I said. “You’re feeling its effects right now.” I used Tanner’s injuries as an excuse to stare at the bare skin of his chest peeking through the rips in the torn shirt. If they gave out awards for insensitivity, I’d have won the Olympics.
“You clean those cuts up before you do anything else,” Hannah said.
“He can have some of the healing salve I made from those recipes in Samantha’s grimoire.” I stood and rummaged in the cabinet I’d caught Tim burgling a lifetime ago. I took out a metal tin with a screw-on top and took it over to Tanner. “Now this stuff works. So clean the wound good before you put any on. Wait a minute. I have something for that too.” Scolding myself for letting Tanner’s physique rattle me, I went back and got a handful of the white willow bark Samantha sent home with me. “Use this to draw out the poison and the pain.”
Tanner took everything I gave him, an odd, almost sad look of gratitude on his face. “Thank you,” he finally said and ducked through the flap.
When he was gone, I pulled out a small mirror and began doctoring my own wounds, too tired of the stress and the constant threat to do any more than a half-assed job. The old Hannah would have flitted around me, trying to help. This one watched through amused eyes.
“Change your mind about Tanner yet?” Hannah put the cigarette between her lips and gave it a pull.
“Shut up,” I muttered.
She laughed long and hard.
For what seemed like the zillionth time that day, Hannah and I straightened my tent. She got a bundle of white sage and walked the room distributing the smoke. Though I had been doing more personal business than working the last couple of days, this room was the place where I generated income. I needed it to be as free of negative influence as possible.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. This is Tanner. I’m set up. Ignore the closed sign on the door.
“How did he know my number?” I said aloud, trying to remember when I gave it to him.
Hannah turned so red she looked like a cherry with hair.
“Girl.” I shook my head at her and showed her a doubled-up fist. I texted Tanner back. On the way.
Though Hannah hadn’t seen what I sent, she said, “I’m not going with you. You and Tanner can handle this alone.”
I shoved my phone back in my pocket. “You know what? I’m sick of people trying to force me and Tanner together. Poor guy’s still mourning the loss of his family.” I told her about Tanner losing his wife and daughters in a car accident.
She stayed quiet while I spoke, seemed to be listening. But then she said, “It’s never the right time. Live each moment the best you can. You never know when your whole world’s going to get turned upside down and you have to start building it again.” She walked toward the door.
I tried again. “Come on. It’ll be an adventure, get the old adrenaline pumping.”
“I’m going to go paint a few faces.” She turned to leave. I opened my mouth to beg. She shook her head. “Remember how you told me that part of your reason for deciding to move out of Griff and Mysti’s house and travel with your family was that you were a third wheel with Griff and Mysti?”
Understanding flooded me. I nodded that I got her point and let her leave without further protests. Then I made a call on my phone.
Shelly answered on the first ring. “What is it?”
“I’m going to be out of my tent for a bit. Would you send someone to sit in here?”
Shelly paused for several seconds before answering. “You think your ex is coming back?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past him.” I left my tent and put the closed sign on the flap.
“I’ll have somebody over there in two swishes of a cow’s tail.” Shelly liked trying out Southernisms. The down-home expressions mixed with her clipped Yankee accent made me laugh. After the night I’d had, the laughter felt good. Shelly laughed with me. “I thought you’d like that.”
We said our goodbyes. I hung up and walked toward Tanner’s tent, trying to talk myself out of liking him too much. He’d come and then he’d go, the way they all did.
The smell of unfamiliar incense came from Tanner’s tent. As he’d commanded, I ignored the closed sign and went inside. Smoke hung low in the small enclosure.
Tanner had emptied one of his glass cases and now leaned over it. He’d changed shirts and wore one of his tight, faded T-shirts. He raised his head and tucked a lock of his long, brown hair behind one ear.
“Sorry about the incense. I know it’s strong, but horseheal helps me focus when I’m using my scrying mirror.” He held up an oblong piece of shiny black rock.
Immediately attracted to the item, I moved forward, peering at it through the smoke.
“It’s obsidian,” Tanner said in response to my interest. “This one belonged to Jackson, my grandfather. The one who was friends with Cecil?”
I nodded to let him know I followed and came close enough to see that the extent of his pageantry was his black mirror and a smoking bowl of incense. “Before we get started, let’s talk about a problem I foresee.”
Tanner put his hands on his hips and nodded.
“Baba Yaga is a Russian folktale. That’s far, far away from here. I don’t even speak the language.” My mind helpfully dredged up more reasons we couldn’t go out of the country on a whim. Passports were first in line. I had never even applied for one.
“You mentioned that back in your tent. The reason I interrupted you is we likely won’t have to travel across the world.” Tanner pulled a small striped, woven blanket from the back of the cabinet and set the scrying mirror on top of it.
“Can we somehow summon the skull lantern to us?” I tried and failed to think of a workable scenario.
Tanner smiled, and it was completely charming. I smiled back. We stared at each other for several useless seconds.
“I’ve heard you call the beings from beyond the veil chthonic beings,” he began.
“Yeah. I got that from my friend Mysti Whitebyrd. I also call them dark beings.” The latter name came from Priscilla Herrera’s grimoire and my conversations with her spirit.
“Jackson, my grandfather, lived in California a good forty years, and he never lost his Texas accent. I loved him for that, and I loved his name for the dark beings. It was boogers.” Tanner’s grin broadened.
Wade had also called the dark beings boogers. The memory stabbed at my heart, waking up the heartbreak. I smiled at Tanner anyway. What was that saying Hannah kept spouting? Fake it until you make it.
Tanner came around the counter to stand close to me. “Let me tell you what I’ve managed to learn about boogers over the years, some from my own experience, some from Dad and Grampa.”
This was the most I’d seen Tanner talk, and the most confident he’d seemed since I met him. I liked it too much.
Maybe sensing my openness to him, Tanner cocked one elbow out and leaned on the counter. “You’ve mentioned mythology and folklore as a source for information about boogers. Mythology and folklore are surprisingly universal. You can find the same types of stories and the same themes in different corners of the worl
d.”
It hit me then. Much as I was enjoying this side of Tanner, I couldn’t help blurting out my realization. “Boogers can meet up with humans anytime and anyplace.”
Tanner nodded and pointed at me. “You got it. So Miss Ugly has likely played out different versions of the Vasilisa story all over the world since the dawn of time.”
“If we have the right story, and if that was her.” Worries crowded in, reminding me this could all be for naught. Miss Ugly might have been talking about something else altogether.
“Don’t go there.” Tanner shook his head and put his free hand on my arm. It was warm and sent sparks of desire through me. Tanner startled and removed his hand. He’d felt it too. “We have a limited amount of time until tomorrow night, and we have to act on the intelligence we’ve been able to put together.”
“You’re right. We have to just do this and see where it takes us.” I turned to the scrying mirror. “I thought you said items called to you.”
“That’s one way I find them, yes. But they have to be in close proximity for that to work.” Tanner lit the bowl of incense next to his mirror. “This method requires having a bit of the item’s maker available to me.” Tanner pointed at his chest where Miss Ugly scratched him. “Even though I did what you said, some of her poison likely got in my system. It’ll help us find her skull lantern.”
“What do I need to do?” I reached for the mantle and felt it fluttering like a candle flame. It was tired from the show I’d put on with my crummy ex-husband and even more tired from the encounter with Miss Ugly, but I had a little more to give before I had to recharge.
“Cecil told me you can lend your energy to people. I need all the range I can get on this.” He pointed to the scrying mirror.
“It’s easier with family, but I can lend you power.” I stiffened as I remembered how it worked. “I’ll have to touch you.”
Tanner stilled at that and gave the picture of his family a guilty glance. I understood. Neither of us were ready to move on from the pain of our pasts.
“I can put my hand on your shoulder,” I said quickly, not quite able to articulate the idea that it didn’t have to be sexual. Both Tanner and I would have probably incinerated from embarrassment at the suggestion.
