by Max Candee
“But if it’s not his heart, there’s no point in going back,” I said. “She’ll know. Even if I could enchant a lily to look like his heart … and I don’t even know what that looks like … she’d know that it’s not.”
“I know,” Vodyanoy said. “But that’s not what I’m proposing.” He looked absolutely delighted with himself. “Who would have thought,” he said, “the Iron Queen would trust someone! Who would have thought that would be her downfall?”
“Vodyanoy,” I said, “this isn’t helping! What could I put in the box that would trick her or bring about her downfall? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Ah,” said Vodyanoy, “but that’s because you don’t have one key piece of information. It’s been so long, I’d almost forgotten it. I can’t believe that, but I’ve grown so used to the fact, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh…” He slapped the side of his head a few times. “Growing old, you know, the memory starts to stutter a bit… But this is so perfect, so amazing…”
“Vodyanoy,” I said in my firmest voice, sounding more like Baba Yaga than I cared to admit, “will you stop babbling and tell me what you’re thinking?”
He settled down.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “I suppose part of me thought you’d already know or that Koschey might have told you…” He looked at me. “Baba Yaga doesn’t have her own heart either.”
There was dead silence.
“What!” I exclaimed. Why did I not know this?
“It’s been so long,” Vodyanoy whispered, “I’d almost completely forgotten it, but there was a time when it was well known. That was how this whole thing began.”
“I don’t understand. What are you telling me? And … and how does it help?”
“You don’t see it yet? Well, I suppose this is all new to you.”
“Why doesn’t she have her heart? Was it to protect herself like Dad?”
“No,” said Vodyanoy. “It’s very different. Actually, it may be where the difference between the two of them lies: the reasons they removed their own hearts. Your father did it to protect himself and, he hoped, to protect your mother. Baba Yaga did it so she could stop … feeling.”
I looked at him, shocked. “Is that why she’s so evil?” I asked. “Because she can’t feel? But why would anyone want to stop feeling? Did she want to be evil? Want to … I don’t know … stop feeling remorse when she killed someone or something?”
Vodyanoy shook his head. “No,” he said, “it’s not like that. It’s quite sad, actually.” He sighed and looked at me. “Anna Sophia,” he said, “have you ever been in love?”
“What?” I said. I had no idea what this had to do with anything. “No … I mean there are people I love, like Lauraleigh and Dad and Uncle Misha and Mama Bear. And people I enjoy being with, like Jean-Sébastien. But I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”
Vodyanoy nodded.
“I suspected as much,” he said. “You are young. So maybe you won’t understand. But a long time ago, when we were all young … even me, even Baba Yaga, even Koschey … your grandmother fell in love.
“We were all very different then. Why, I was quite a handsome fellow, would you believe, and your grandmother … well, she was the most beautiful witch in the world.”
“Koschey told me she’d been beautiful,” I said, “but he also said she had always been totally evil.”
“I have known your grandmother for longer than Koschey has,” said Vodyanoy. “This was a very long time ago, when things were just beginning, when she had only just arrived. This forest had not yet even begun to think about starting to grow. There was only the water, and some lichens, and me. And Baba Yaga was young. Not much older than you, really. Incredibly powerful already, of course, but still, in many things, a child. We all were. The world was a child then.
“And she fell in love. Well, you’ve met your grandmother — she’s not one to do things by halves. She was completely besotted as only a teenager can be. But he spurned her. He rejected her. Even though she was beautiful, even though she offered him so much power, despite everything, he wasn’t interested. And he told her so in the cruelest way imaginable.”
“Who was he?” I asked.
“Nobody,” said Vodyanoy. “No one really remembers. It wasn’t important. I can hardly even remember whether he was mortal or one of us. But Yaga was almost destroyed by grief. It wasn’t even that he had wounded her pride; she was truly, desperately unhappy. She had really loved him, you see. When he rejected her, she almost ceased to function. She couldn’t take care of her duties anymore. She was hardly able to move. It was as if she wanted to die. She wept so much, some lakes grew salty from her tears, they say.”
I tried to imagine my grandmother in tears, tried to imagine even that beautiful girl I’d seen in my father’s memories grieving, and I couldn’t.
Vodyanoy seemed to know what I was thinking.
“It broke her heart, Anna Sophia,” he said gently. “It truly broke her heart. And so eventually, when she couldn’t take it anymore, she tore her heart out of herself. So that she could stop feeling the pain.”
Vodyanoy picked up the water lily from the grass where he had left it, and carefully put it back into the marsh. He seemed lost in memories.
“It worked, too,” he said, looking at the lily rather than at me. “She stopped feeling the hurt. She stopped feeling anything. That’s when she started to become the Iron Queen.”
“That’s … horrible,” I said. “I can’t imagine anyone doing that.”
“No,” said Vodyanoy sadly. “But then you’ve never been in love.”
He sighed.
“After that…” he continued. “Well, we all know what she became. Sometimes I wonder if she even remembers what she did to her heart, or if she’s grown so used to not having it that she’s forgotten. She could have taken it back, you know. I remember suggesting it to her once, not that long after she’d taken it out. I thought she’d have had time to heal. She just laughed.”
“So she decided to just keep on not feeling?”
“Maybe she liked the power it gave her. I don’t know. I’ve never cut out my own heart; never wanted to or had to, so I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but obviously it’s still possible to enjoy things. The everyday pleasures and annoyances of life, it seems you still feel those. But the real emotions, the deep ones, the ones that feed magic — those get taken away. I think that’s why Baba Yaga’s so eager to feast on strong emotions to replenish her powers. They’re feelings she doesn’t have anymore. Even if she doesn’t realize it, I think she may be hungry for them. Which is probably why she has to eat children sometimes. Cutting out your own heart… You must sense there’s something missing, certainly…”
He was drifting off again.
“Vodyanoy,” I said, “do you feel sorry for my grandmother?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said. “I feel sorry for the girl I knew. I feel sorry she turned into what she did, and I like to think she would have been horrified if she had looked into the future and seen what she would become. I feel sorry that girl wasn’t able to live until today as she was, more like your mother. But I don’t feel sorry for the Iron Queen or forgive what she’s done. Do you see what I mean?”
“I think so,” I said, though I’d have to think about it.
“What I wish is that there was a way to undo it all,” he said. “There isn’t, of course. But it might be possible to undo some of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“As I said … it seems to me, even if consciously she’s almost forgotten about her heart, somewhere inside her she must be aware that something’s missing. The way she seeks out strong emotions, I don’t think it can just be a taste. I don’t think she can stop herself from taking them if they’re nearby. Do you see? Somewhere inside her, she may want her heart back.”
“But Vodyanoy,” I said, “how does this help us?”
“Just imagine,” he said quietly. “What do
you think would happen if, when she opened that box, instead of Koschey’s heart inside, it was hers?”
I gaped at him.
“I don’t think she could resist it,” he carried on. “I think she’d have to touch it. And then … well, who knows what would happen? If she took back her heart, if she started feeling again, she would change. Become the girl I knew again, or something like her.”
“You said it was dangerous to even touch your own heart,” I remembered.
“Yes,” he said. “It might even kill her.”
“But what if she realized the plot? What if she didn’t touch it?”
“She’s an eager person. She’ll want to see Koschey’s heart as soon as possible. You’ll be there. It doesn’t matter whether she chooses to touch it or not, as long as she does so. Worse comes to worst, you can always throw it at her.”
My voice was shaking, torn between hope and fear. “Do you really think it can work?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “I don’t know… But it’s definitely worth the risk. There’s never been a better opportunity to bring the Iron Queen down. She trusts you, Anna Sophia. She’s so convinced you’ll do exactly what she says to save your friend that she hasn’t considered what else could happen. She’s sure there’s nothing you know that could harm her, or anything you’re powerful enough to do to stop her.”
“So she underestimates me?” I said. I was starting to feel angry at her again. She thinks I’m just a silly little girl as helpless as Lauraleigh, I thought.
“Yes, she probably does,” he said. “And that’s her mistake.” He looked at me. “You can do this, Anna Sophia. You’re the only person who can. The only person who ever could.”
“Do you know where Baba Yaga’s heart is?” I asked.
“There were rumors, a long time ago,” he said. “But the world has changed so much since then, forests growing, rivers moving…”
“So what good is this plan?” I burst out.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking. Clearly, there must be a way to find it. Nothing is ever completely lost. Hmm…” He was becoming the dotty figure I’d first met again.
“How were you supposed to find Koschey’s heart?” he suddenly asked.
“Baba Yaga said I’d find my way by trusting my instincts,” I answered. I’d be able to follow my mother’s magic and feel his heart because I’m related to both of them. That’s what Baba Yaga can’t do. But then Koschey sent me to you, so I’m not even sure where I’d start.”
“Hmm. Well, obviously that won’t work in this case. It’s been so long, and the magic link would be weaker because you’re only her granddaughter… Let’s think; let’s think. I wonder if… Do I still have…”
And once again, he dove into the water.
I sighed, but at least I was certain he’d be back.
While I waited, I thought about our plan. Would it work? If I found Baba Yaga’s heart, would I really be able to stop her plans? Just getting her heart back wouldn’t turn her good, would it? She hadn’t done anything evil when she’d had her heart, but that didn’t erase everything she had done since. It didn’t change whom she’d turned into.
But Vodyanoy had said it would hurt her to take her heart back. Giving Baba Yaga back her own heart would cause her pain.
The shadow inside me smiled.
Chapter 21
Dear Diary,
It’s been so long since I’ve been among normal people. Other than Lauraleigh, the last one I talked to was Gavril, and that feels like it was months ago. Maybe it was; time got so strange in Baba Yaga’s hut, I’m not really sure how long it’s been since I left Geneva. And being among a crowd of people — that feels intensely weird. Which is weird in itself; I never had any trouble with it back in Switzerland.
I definitely didn’t expect to end up in a four-star hotel when I set out to find Koschey’s heart — or Baba Yaga’s. Looking around, I can only imagine what Granny would say: The materialism of people who pay for a room here, the fact that a little piece of plastic can buy a room for the night. I don’t even want to think about what she’d say if she knew I’d given in to the temptation to stay here.
I don’t really care, though. I don’t think it’s evil to rest for one night in genuine comfort. Selfish, maybe. But since I can’t do anything until the morning anyway, it’s not as if I’m betraying Lauraleigh. I have to spend the night somewhere. And since I can, why not choose a bed instead of crawling under some bush in the forest and hoping the moss is soft?
Tomorrow I’ll find Baba Yaga’s heart. And then I’ll bring all of this to an end.
* * *
When Vodyanoy popped out of the water again, he was holding something in one hand: a golden apple.
He handed it to me.
“Here,” he said. “I almost forgot I still had it… This is very old, Anna Sophia, very precious. There aren’t many like it left in the world.”
“What does it do?” I asked, rolling it around in my hands and looking at it. It felt almost like an actual plump round apple, but it shone like the purest gold, almost as if its skin had somehow been turned into metal.
“It’s a guide,” he explained. “You ask it to take you where you want to go, and it will roll that way. Then you only need to follow it.”
“Really?” That sounded unbelievable. “But … does it work on everything? I mean, surely Baba Yaga used some major enchantments to protect her heart. Are you sure the apple will be able to find it?”
“Yes,” he said. “I am certain.”
“Why?”
“Because Baba Yaga made this apple,” he said quietly. “She gave it to me ages ago. Back before she cut out her heart.”
I gasped. How could this apple be that old? I held it more carefully in my hands, amazed that I was touching something that had been made by my grandmother when she had been young and beautiful and not entirely evil.
“The magic in this apple, the magic in her heart … they’ll call out to each other. There’s not much left in the world that still holds a trace of your grandmother’s good magic. It doesn’t matter what enchantments are on the heart’s hiding place; the apple will be drawn to it as the roots of a plant are drawn to water. All you have to do is ask it to take you where you want to go.”
I stared at him. He looked weary and sad as if the weight of all his years was upon him again.
I realized it was time for me to go, to leave this strange, frightening, oddly kind creature.
Biting my lip, I asked, “Afterward … shall I take the apple back to you?”
“That would be nice, Koschey’s daughter, Sereda’s child.” He smiled. “After all, it is very rare!” He seemed to be cheering up. Maybe he’d had that gloomy expression just because he had spent too much time out of the water. Now he was looking forward to plunging back in, this time for good.
Then a worried look crept into his eyes again. “Oh, and, um… I hate to ask, but, um … afterward, when this is all over…” He hesitated. “Would you very much mind not telling your grandmother who you heard all this from?”
I realized he wasn’t as sure of our plan as he had seemed. Or maybe even when she’d had her heart, Baba Yaga had been intimidating.
“If I ever catch you drowning someone who hasn’t even done anything yet,” I said, “I will tell Baba Yaga absolutely everything you told me today. I’ll let her know it was all your idea. And I’ll tell her you gave me the apple too.”
A panicked expression took over his features. “Anna Sophia … I promise, I won’t do anything… If humans show up here, I’ll just… I’ll only frighten them into cleaning up after themselves, I promise. I…”
I laughed. “And I’ll also keep the apple if they come to any harm.” I grinned. “Call it a repayment for what you owe my father from your card games.”
He groaned. “I was hoping he’d forgotten about that,” he said. “He has the most inconvenient recall sometimes. Of all the memories to get muddled, he couldn’t forget that
one?”
I laughed. “Goodbye, Vodyanoy,” I said. “And thank you.”
“Farewell, Anna Sophia,” he replied, “and may birds of good fortune lay feathers upon you.” And with that last odd saying, he plunged and disappeared into the depths of the marsh.
Alone, I considered the apple. Could this actually lead me to Baba Yaga’s heart? I suppose I’d just have to trust it and find out. But how far would I need to go? It would be so much more convenient if I could use my bucket.
That idea would never stop being weird.
I put the apple down in the grass, hesitating. What exactly should I do?
After a long while, I said, “Hello.” This is ridiculous, I thought. “Could you show me the way to Baba Yaga’s heart, please?”
The response was immediate. The apple started to spin, dipping this way and that as though it were orienting itself. Then it took off.
Grabbing my things, I began to jog after it. Luckily, the apple shone brightly even in the parts of the forest where the canopy was so thick there was almost no sunlight. But trying to jog with a mop, bucket, and backpack was tough.
“Wait a minute,” I called out, and thankfully, the apple paused, though it kept spinning as if it were impatient. I opened my backpack, took out Squire and Knight, and woke them up. They danced about happily around me.
“Hello,” I smiled. “I missed you! We’re on an adventure. Do you think you two could carry the mop and bucket for me?”
They nodded eagerly; then each hand grabbed one of the items.
“Righty-ho, apple,” I called. “We’re ready to go!”
Instantly it shot off again, and I jogged after it. I tried not to giggle as I imagined how I looked: a thirteen-year-old girl running through a forest after a golden apple, trailed by a mop and bucket carried through the air by a pair of stone hands.
