The Cloaked Maiden: A Reverse Harem Romance (Rise of the Ash Gods Book 2)

by Cara Wylde

  “No! Not the dark.” An owl hooted in the distance, and he shuddered. “Wild, ancient forests like this one give me the heebeegeebees. Especially if they’re in another dimension. All kinds of creatures come out after dark, and let me tell you... they don’t all look like the forest creatures from the third dimension.”

  That piqued Val’s curiosity. “Really? I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Yeah. You’re naïve. I bet you’ve never seen a two-headed wolf.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “And pray to your Goddess that you never will.”

  Loki caught up with them. “Don’t worry, love. Two-headed wolves don’t attack humans. Their preferred meal is plump, juicy hobgoblins.” He grinned at Magny, who poofed himself on Valentina’s other shoulder.

  “Knock it off, you two! Acting like babies...”

  “Here we are,” Hades interrupted them.

  They all looked up in surprise and awe. A large clearing opened before them, bathed in the silvery warmth of the moonlight. In the middle of it rose a house like they had never seen before. One glance was enough for Valentina to know whom it belonged to. She had read stories about it.

  Perched atop two chicken legs, the hut seemed to wobble from left to right, as the wind blew. The table and chairs on the wooden patio were nailed in place, and there were two rope ladders swinging from side to side. Val could only guess that was how mere mortals were supposed to get to the front door. If she had to, she’d float. Then she remembered she couldn’t float more than a few inches above the ground. Well, she’d have to push herself, because there was no way she was climbing one of those flimsy-looking rope ladders. On second thought, maybe they were lucky, and Baba Yaga wouldn’t invite them in.

  Yes, that was Baba Yaga’s house. The scary hag of the Russian folklore. The topmost window of her hut looked like a wide-open eye, and Valentina felt like she was being watched. More than watched. Judged.

  “Why are we here?” She asked Hades in a whisper.

  “Patience, Keeper. You’ll see.”

  “If you say that word one more time...”

  The front door opened, banging against the outside wall. Chills ran up Valentina’s spine, and Magny grabbed a handful of her hair and covered himself with it. A strong smell of burned herbs, tobacco and vegetable stew filled the air when Baga Yaga stepped onto the patio. Her wild, black hair whipped around her face, and her long shirks and shawls danced with the night wind. As she took another step and gave her unexpected visitors a wide smile, the chicken legs holding the house stepped forward, too.

  “Welcome, welcome! What brings you to my humble abode, strangers?”

  At the sound of her voice, Valentina’s jaw dropped. Baba Yaga didn’t sound like a hag. Not at all. She sounded like... But it couldn’t be! She lifted herself on her tiptoes to get a better look at the woman standing way above them, her colorful skirts flurrying around her ankles. Young. Baba Yaga was young and strikingly beautiful.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Valentina didn’t float and didn’t take one of the rope ladders, either. Nergal squeezed her to his chest and flew them both up on Yaga’s patio. Grumbling, Loki landed next to them, and the death glare he gave Nergal made the blond let go of Val in a haste. The last thing his sweetpea needed was for her gods to fight on top of two chicken legs, which were wobbly enough as they were. Valentina paid them no mind. She followed Hades and Yaga into the house, and her blue eyes grew as wide as saucers when she stepped into the living room and saw just how huge the house was on the inside. Huge and luxurious. Two things no one would have guessed looking at the hut from below.

  “This is incredible!”

  Yaga searched Valentina’s face, a smile still playing on her lips.

  “You like it? I’m glad.”

  Val turned to the witch. “This is so unexpected. Everything! The house, you...”

  “What’s so unexpected about me?”

  Val laughed awkwardly. Could all of this be real? Was the young woman before her really Baga Yaga, the ugly crone of Russian myths and legends? The hag that ate children for dinner? The nasty witch that enslaved young maidens and forced them to clean and cook for her? It couldn’t be possible!

  “You know... You’re very different from what the legends say.”

  Yaga cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her perky chest.

  “What do they say?”

  “Err... That you’re old?”

  “But I am old. I am old, indeed. Older than all your fellows here.” She tipped her chin toward Val’s lovers.

  Nergal almost growled at her. “I doubt that. I come from Ancient Sumer, the oldest civilization on Earth.”

  Yaga chuckled in delight. The sound of her laugh reminded Val of the chirpy flow of a spring dancing and jumping over rocks.

  “You keep telling yourself that, handsome.”

  Nergal huffed. He was about to give her a piece of his mind when Hades sent him a sharp glance. This was not the time for a pissing contest. Especially not between a god and a goddess.

  “And what else do they say about me?” She turned back to Valentina.

  Val shrugged. How had she gotten herself into this conundrum? She wasn’t about to tell her that most mythology books made her look scarier than the Wicked Witch of the West.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s obvious that none of it is true.”

  Yaga grinned. “Might not be true about me specifically, but when it comes to my other aspects, it might just be right on point.”

  Val gulped. Okay, so there were Baba Yagas out there who ate children?! She shook her head. No, she didn’t want to think about that.

  “And about me being old,” the goddess continued. “I have the power to make myself look however I want. Why would I want to look like a crone?”

  “I never thought about that...” Val stole a quick glance at Hades. She now saw him in a different light.

  Yaga invited the gods to sit, while she dragged Valentina into the kitchen and made her help with the food. As Val stirred the stew, the goddess set a huge cauldron on the fire, filled it with water, and started sprinkling corn flower little by little as the water boiled, mixing vigorously. She was making polenta. Val watched in fascination.

  “Good food is one of the most powerful magic tools there is. And gods eat, too. I know what you’re thinking. They are gods, so they don’t actually need to eat. Trust me, my dear. Learn how to cook, and they will stay by your side forever.”

  “Oh.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I... I do. I just... don’t cook much.”

  Magny poofed himself on the kitchen counter, found a long wooden spoon and dipped it in the vegetable stew. He smacked his lips in satisfaction.

  “I agree with her,” he said. “This stew is magic!”

  Yaga chuckled. “I may or may not have whispered some of my secret spells over it.”

  Magny dropped the spoon, his hands going to his throat. He didn’t feel anything particularly worrisome, but he still didn’t like the idea of eating food that had been enchanted. His stomach growled. He didn’t care. Right then and there, he promised himself he wouldn’t eat anything prepared by Yaga.

  “So, what brings you here, child?”

  Valentina thought it was weird to be called a child by a woman who looked slightly older than herself. If she was twenty-one, Yaga looked twenty-five at most. She had to remember the goddess had probably been around since the beginning of the first ancient civilization. And that was not Sumer, apparently. She almost felt sorry for poor Nergal. What a hit to his ego.

  “Oh, it’s a long story. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  The goddess set her spoon aside, cleaned her hands on a cloth, and turned to Valentina.

  “Let me take a look, child.”

  At the touch of her small, warm hands on her cheeks, Val jumped in surprise. When Yaga’s dark brown eyes fixed on
hers, she felt a wave of calm sweep over her, relaxing her muscles and turning her knees to jelly. She felt so tired, all of a sudden. She had ridden to Multa on Death’s bike, Loki had whisked her to the fifth dimension, and then Nergal had flown her to the top of two chicken legs. No wonder she was exhausted!

  “So much happening in that pretty head of yours,” the goddess said, thoughtfully. “You’re not alone in there, either. Quite a crowd. You, your Higher Self, your twin’s Higher Self...”

  “You can see my Higher Self?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she? How is she?”

  Yaga sighed. “Imagine a small creature, not yet fully formed, curled in fetal position in the farthest corner of a large room. She is so small that not even those who go into that room see her. They sit around, chat, have a glass of wine, then move on with their lives, never noticing the wrinkled fetus in the corner.”

  Val blinked. She wanted to pull away, but Yaga’s hands on her face did feel so nice and soothing...

  “That’s my Higher Self?!”

  The goddess smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll get her back.”

  “Can you help me?”

  “No. With this, someone else will help you.”

  “Hades?”

  Yaga ignored her and looked deeper.

  “What about my time sensor?” Val asked. The Hermit has said Baba Yaga would help her with something. Well, if she couldn’t take care of Ravenna, then no worries! She had a hundred more problems she could choose from.

  “Girl, I have no idea how you managed to mess that one up, nor how to fix it.” She laughed out loud.

  Valentina pursed her lips. She’d never hear the end of it. She wondered whether this was going to be her life from now on. Every time she met a god or a goddess, they would make fun of her screwing up her time sensor, wouldn’t they? Fun times ahead.

  “Then, the Walk-Ins,” Val said.

  “Yes, the Walk-Ins. You’ve found the spells to exorcise them, but you don’t have the ingredients.”

  “Yes.”

  Baba Yaga let her go and turned back to her polenta. “Are you positive you’ll know how to perform the exorcism when the time comes?”

  “I have to be. What else can I do to save my family and my coven? And all the other covens... I understand the chants.” She paused for a moment and tasted the stew. “Okay, there are a few words I don’t get, but one of my Ash Gods will help me with that. Turns out they’re proficient in all kinds of languages, new and old. But the ingredients... They might be able to help me get some of the plants, but that’s about it. Unless Hades happens to have mouse eyes aged for fifteen years tucked in somewhere.”

  Yaga chuckled. “I doubt he does. But guess what?” She turned to Valentina, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “I do. I’m a witch, remember? One of the most powerful witches in all dimensions. Granted some of my aspects are more powerful than me because they dabble in black magic... But it doesn’t matter. Show me the list, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

  “Really?!” Valentina jumped with joy. “Oh my Goddess, that is amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “Now, now... there’s no need to call me your Goddess.”

  Valentina blushed. “I... I wasn’t. I’m sorry. It’s just something I say. Instead of ‘Oh my God’, because that’s so... Ordinary. You know... nevermind.”

  “Huh.” Yaga removed the polenta from the fire and set it aside. “I’m a tad disappointed, to tell you the truth,” she murmured. She did the same with the stew.

  Valentina was sure she had heard her wrong.

  “Come. Let’s see what we can find in my pantry.”

  Val dug out the book of spells she had taken from the Congrega di Denari and opened it to the ingredients page. Magny poofed himself on her shoulder, too curious to miss a visit to the witch’s pantry.

  “Eyes of mouse aged for fifteen years, you say?” Yaga floated up to the highest shelf. “Here you go...” She dropped a tiny vial filled with black dust into Valentina’s palm.

  “This is... I thought they would be... round?”

  The goddess laughed with mirth. “How could they be anything but dust after fifteen years have passed over them? Do you want to see a pair of eyes I’ve been aging for twenty years? There’s barely anything left...”

  Val laughed awkwardly. Of course. That made sense. She felt so silly. What kind of witch was she?

  “A modern witch,” Magny whispered in her ear. “You play around with sigils, energy spheres and tarot cards, not with tail of bunny, claw of kitty and eye of newt.”

  “I heard that, hobgoblin!”

  Magny’s heart jumped so hard that he involuntarily poofed himself in the living room, where he decided to stay. Valentina’s gods were less scary than the Russian witch.

  “You know,” Yaga shot Val a serious glance, “If you’re smart, you’ll secure a bit of hobgoblin hair while you can. You never know when it might come in handy. Also, a bit of blood wouldn’t hurt, and some tears for cord severing spells.”

  “I thought you didn’t do black magic.”

  “Oh, child, this isn’t black magic. This is common sense! What if another witch shows up and decides to steal one of your gods? A black candle dressed in ivy, bryony and banishing oil, one hobgoblin tear and a bit of black salt, and ta-da! The bitch... I’m sorry, witch,” she giggled, “will be well on her way, and he’s all yours again.”

  Valentina blinked in confusion. She opened her mouth to say something then realized she was at a loss for words, so she closed it tightly and decided to keep it that way until she got all the ingredients she needed. Sure, she could potentially agree with a cord severing spell if that meant Baba Yaga was going to reach for water charged under a new moon in Pisces next.

  Half an hour later, Valentina emerged from the pantry with a bag full of things, some of them smelly, most of them ugly, but all of them absolutely necessary. The food had cooled just enough to be served, so they all sat down to eat. Not even Magny could resist Yaga’s incredible, enchanted stew. If he was put under a spell and kidnapped by the witch, or if he died, then at least he’d die happy, with a belly full of delicious stew and hot, creamy polenta. He’d lived long enough, anyway.

  Tea was served, and Valentina winced when she took a sip and tasted a distinct hint of rum. Loki winked at her, Jove sent her a concerned glance that she appeased with a half-smile, and Nergal asked her if she wanted a cigarette with it. Val told him that was even more inappropriate than rum in her tea. Yaga smoked, though, so Nergal didn’t poison his lungs alone. Not that his lungs could actually be poisoned since they weren’t real... When the rum got to her head, Valentina started wondering whether her gods were taking textbook human form, or they were just adopting some sort of human shell that didn’t contain actual human organs inside. She slapped herself over the forehead, drawing everyone’s attention. Of course they were human inside and out. Otherwise, what she’d felt trickling down her inner thighs after the hot night they’d spent together would have been an illusion.

  “More tea?” Baba Yaga offered.

  “No, no, no...” Valentina set her empty cup on the table and stood up. Her knees urged her to sit back down and she mentally cursed them. “Alcohol doesn’t agree with me. Not at all. It gives me these...” She made a circling motion with her finger around her temple and giggled stupidly. “Bad images. Ridiculous thoughts.” She swallowed heavily and looked for water. Veles read her thoughts and procured a tall glass of the fresh, cold liquid for her. She gulped it down. “Thank you so much for the wonderful meal, Yaga. And thank you for the ingredients, your help and your advice. I... I will remember that cord severing spell.” She winked. “Just in case, right?”

  “What is she talking about?” Jove asked Magny. The hobgoblin shrugged.

  Valentina headed to the door, and Loki wrapped an arm around her waist when he saw how unsure she was on her feet. They all thanked Baba
Yaga for her hospitality, and Hades took a moment longer to say goodbye. From what Val could grasp, even though they lived in the same dimension and the same woods, they didn’t visit each other often. She was out the door when Yaga caught up with her and motioned for Loki to take a step back and give them some privacy. The Trickster scowled at the goddess but complied. As young and pleasant as she looked, anyone with half a brain could tell Yaga could be trouble if she wanted to.

  The goddess leaned in and whispered something in Valentina’s ear. It was but a brief second, but whatever Yaga told her, Valentina’s eyes cleared, and her slight drunkenness dissipated like gray clouds after a quick summer shower. Yaga winked at her and pushed her toward Loki, who caught her and flew her down. As the witch waived them farewell from the patio, the chicken legs turned on their heels and the hut started walking away into the forest in its wobbly manner, the trees parting before it.

  “Next time, she will be even more difficult to find,” Hades said. “Don’t get me wrong, Yaga likes to have guests from time to time, but after each visit, she retreats even farther into the woods.”

  “What did she tell you?” Loki asked. “You suddenly look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  After a hearty meal and rum tea, Valentina’s head did have some issues wrapping itself around what Baba Yaga had just revealed to her. But the more she ran her words over and over in her mind, the larger her smile grew.

  “She told me where to find the Suit of Wands. Just like that. She told me that one of her other aspects is the Chariot of the Major Arcana and that she knows she’s asleep and can’t guide me. Because they share the same abilities, she is the Chariot, too. Or she could have been. Or she could be if the other Chariot is ever destroyed. Like what happened to your aspects.”

  “And where is it, then? The Suit of Wands...” Loki asked.

  “Near.” Val was downright laughing with joy now. “At the Tiger Cave Temple in Thailand.”

  “And that’s near to you?!” Magny almost yelled in frustration.