He pulled Beta’s reins to slow her to a stop before hopping off. Sarah did the same with Jiri, her boots landing in a thick mound of snow.
“Are you sure she wants to help Charlotte and not cook her for dinner?” he asked the little Witch as she marveled next to him with her hands clasped under her chin.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
At last, a smoking chimney emerged from behind the thin blue mist veiling over the treetops. The snow also ceased to fall, and Valek could finally see narrow windows aglow through the fog. Their beacons grew nearer and nearer as a curious three-story cottage came into view, trees bending at their sides, allowing it to pass through.
Sarah had been right.
Valek gawked at the four gargantuan chicken legs moving across the forest floor, carrying the ancient house above them –a place of legends, even to someone like him. It had many rickety doors leading to nowhere, swinging and banging around, nearly falling off their hinges. The shingles on the vaulted rooftops were layered in uneven dirty rows. As it came into clearer view, Valek could see the chicken legs were actually not chicken legs at all, but instead were industrial and comprised of bolts and clockwork. A laundry-line of oversized bloomers stretched from one window to the other as wind chimes twinkled, hanging from the eves. This was most certainly the house of the child-eating hag. Valek shivered with the human memory of his mother’s bedtime stories. It was just as he always imagined.
“Is it as you thought it’d be?” Sarah smiled proudly, her eyebrows raised.
Valek merely nodded as the hell-stallions threw their heads back and whinnied. He thought of Charlotte again. She too grew up with stories of Baba Yaga, like most other Slavic children. She would have marveled at this.
Apparently, the Wood Witch had been in the Yule spirit, because she’d strung glittering white lights haphazardly around her porch banister and some across the second-story windows. There was also a wreath of green needles, pinecones, and cranberries at her door.
He leaned over and whispered to Sarah, “Are you sure about this?”
She only shot him a look, suggesting she knew exactly what she was doing, and continued to grin upward as the cottage came to rest over a flatter part of the forest floor several meters in front of them. Black smoke spluttered from some sort of exhaust in the back as the mechanical bird legs folded up, the foundation of the house lowering until it rested at last in the snow. Perhaps it was Valek’s imagination, or maybe it was the way the windows were situated around the doors, but it almost seemed like the house had a face…and it looked very tired.
Valek suddenly felt something he hadn’t in quite some time…horrible nerves. If the Bone Mother failed to provide the answers they sought, Valek believed there was little hope left. Returning back to the Parliament would be the only answer. Even if they’d help Charlotte, Cicero would never allow him to go free again.
When Beta whimpered, he moved next to her, patting her on the jaw. She slowly turned her massive head to gaze at him with her matching glacier-colored eyes. The expression they held painted vivid concern for him, and he knew there was nothing safe about the idea of entering that rickety hut.
“I’m aware, girl. Don’t you worry.” He slid his hand down the front of her nose. “We will return. Please behave. Don’t move from this spot.” The other animal yelped his response, swinging his great head around.
The fat cobblestone chimney continued to puff balls of gray smoke up toward the sky. From the base of the front door, wooden stairs sprang like an accordion out into the day, landing right before Valek’s feet. He tuned into Sarah’s mind, curious of what was running through it. She was afraid too, as was expected. But exactly what it was that scared her surprised him. She was afraid of failing—afraid of looking inadequate in font of her mentor. And Sarah knew, after all of these years of being Francis’ house Witch, so out of practice with her true talents, Baba Yaga would surely shame her.
“She’s the eldest and most talented Witch in history. She is feared by so many of us…” Sarah whispered hastily to Valek. “I was very very lucky to be gifted with her counsel. I have no idea what the consequences are going to be if I disappoint her.”
“It will be all right, Sarah.” Valek frowned. “You’re very gifted. Dedicated. She will see that.”
“I hope so,” she breathed.
The two ascended the dozen porch steps without any more words and stood at the door separating the peculiar abode from the cold outside. The many cobwebs lining the corners suggested it hadn’t been dusted in about a hundred years. Sarah reached forward, and grabbed hold of the massive doorknocker—a rusted iron lion head. He recalled the double-tailed lion that had manifested in the fire to Sarah and Charlotte in the parlor of Francis’ home many months ago. His mind wheeled over what possible meanings could have, until his focus was shattered by—
She thudded three heavy knocks and quickly stepped back, holding her breath. Valek glanced at her face, now wide-eyed and frozen, her spine rigid.
Slowly, the wooden door creaked open on its great rusty hinges exposing a thick darkness with only a faint cast of golden light from the parlor. The inside appeared much larger than the hut’s modest façade initially let on. From down a long corridor, he could see a hunched figure hobbling toward them, shrouded in a dark muslin robe with frayed wine-colored trim. Beads and stones rattled near her dropping breasts. Her knobbed fingers clutched the top of a gnarled cane Valek guessed was made of a rare rosewood because of its dark cherry color. Her yellowed nails wrapped around the petrified head of a hissing cobra. He wondered if the thing was merely used to steady her gait or if it held much more significant purpose.
There was also a peculiar odor steeping the peeling wallpaper. He wrinkled up his nose in disgust. It might have seemed impolite but he couldn’t help himself, his senses too agonizingly acute to welcome a scent like broiled cabbages and sour eggs.
Remaining completely silent, the hag beckoned them inside with a wide wave of her free arm. Her one good eye remained fixed thoughtfully on Valek. He slipped past her quickly without turning his back, not trusting her for a moment. The door whined horribly as the hag shut and locked it.
She was just how all the old bedtime stories depicted her, except she was not at all portly like some suggested. Rather, she was bony and crooked. It was rare that human fantasies told it accurately. Or maybe she just hadn’t the chance to gobble up any children recently. Valek chuckled very quietly to himself.
“Do you find my appearance amusing, Pane?” Her voice sounded as rickety and as gnarled as she looked. It conveyed a bitter though worldly wisdom, like wind over the Black Sea. Though her words were scolding, there was also a strange level of humor playing in her tone.
Valek answered quickly. “Not at all, madam.” He bowed at the waist. “I thank you very sincerely for welcoming us from the cold into your home.” He managed to glance sideways at Sarah who was still frozen with her hands folded respectfully in front of her.
“I doubt the winter has any effect on the likes of you, Vampire,” she grumbled. The end of her cane thumped rhythmically on the warped wooded floorboards as she turned and hobbled past them and into the parlor off to the left. “So…you find yourselves in horrible trouble, no doubt.”
Down a stretch of hallway, Valek discovered the glimmering yellow light belonged to a roaring fire. With Baba Yaga faced away from them, he threw a quick look to Sarah that begged her to take over the conversation.
Her mouth fell open, her mind circling over the best ice-breakers, but as her eyes fell over the sagely hag, she screwed her lips shut again.
He cleared his throat and she threw a new glare at him. Don’t press me, but then decided to open her mouth at last. “Madame Yaga, we come to you seeking answers. Charlotte is gravely ill. I know you can help her.”
The Bone Mother stopped short in the middle of the hallway, the two of them nearly running into her heels. The glow of the fire created a halo around her shroud
ed head. She remained with her back to them, though Valek saw her fingers squeeze tighter around the top of her cane. But when he tried to tune into her mind, he found it was mysteriously silent.
Don’t even try it. Sarah’s thoughts spoke to him as she glared in his direction. She’s much older than you and she knows well how to keep the likes of you out of her head!
“I have the answers you need!” the hag snapped, leering at her over her bony shoulder.
“Thank you, Bone Mother,” she bowed her head.
Valek wasn’t used to this Sarah, so meek and unsure of herself. She spoke to the ancient Witch as though she were begging for her life.
Without so much as another grunt, Baba Yaga continued into her den, eclectic with collections of volumes, potions, and bewitchments that made Sarah’s seem like cheesy illusions.
An enchanted oak sprouted in one corner near the fireplace, it’s branches reaching across the room against the ceiling. Lanterns and more wind chimes dangled from its various sprawling fingers. Valek’s library back home paled against her stacks and stacks of grimoires, records, recipes, and archives. But unlike Sarah’s study, these shelves were very orderly. He didn’t know why, but he’d assumed all Witches were as disorganized as she was. He counted each book in a matter of minutes, seeing that they had been shelved alphabetically and dusted down to the last speck of silt. What was most strange about the room, though, was that it lacked furniture. He glanced around for a place to perch but came up empty.
“You will stay here for the time being. There is much to discuss. The journey ahead is treacherous.”
“Thank you, Bone Mother,” said Sarah. “That is very kind.”
“I am hospitable when it serves me.” She frowned at the two of them. “What are you waiting for?” Baba Yaga gestured to the floor, her long fingers pressed together. “Have a seat….”
Tree roots twisted up from between the cracks in the floor, vines protruding and growing with them. Lush, emerald leaves sprouted among the foliage, folding together to make upholstery, as Valek watched in amazement at the growth bending and transforming into five chairs. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah’s mouth twist up in an excited little smile.
Cool, huh?
Valek nodded slightly at her thought before he took his seat.
Excited now, Sarah crossed her legs and enthusiastically bent closer to Baba Yaga. “It is an honor for me to be in your presence again Madame—”
“Let’s keep the adulation down to a minimum. I do not have the time and you’re so sweet it’s giving me stomach pains.” Baba Yaga batted her hand at the little Witch before rubbing at the bridge of her pointed nose. She turned gingerly to Valek. “You are very strange, pane Ruzik. I have been watching you since I first learned you’d try and visit me.”
Valek couldn’t stifle his smirk. He’d always been thoroughly amused by witchery. Some he knew were legitimate, though most were full to bursting with their own egos and hot air. So he decided to have a bit of fun. “Have we been quite the entertainment in your crystal ball, madam?” He flashed his fangs as he feigned politeness.
The room instantly darkened and sounded with thunder. The fire washed out with the enchanted rain as Baba Yaga shot to her feet, leaning into Valek, her long silver hair billowing into his face, threatening to encase him.
“How dare you regard me in such a manner? I warn you, heathen! Respect the curse of the Wood Witch or else fall into your own misery!”
The walls gave a horrible scream, the sound very familiar. Valek slammed his eyes shut, realizing exactly what the sound was. It was his most gruesome memory—the most tragic event in his whole life. His wife. His wife’s screams rattled between his temples. She called his name. He cried out, retching. But in a lightning flash the room went back to normal, the fire rekindling itself in the hearth. Valek was left panting.
Sarah dashed to his side. “I warned you,” she whispered. “Are you all right?”
Valek sat with his back pressed tightly against his seat. “My apologies.”
“I had known of your visit for long, now, Vampire!” She spat every syllable. “I have been waiting for you for nearly two decades since the night when your fates shifted. And I hate to wait, Valek.” Her shoulders began to relax.
“Surely, you are speaking of the night I found Charlotte?” When he uttered her name, something painful jabbed at his dead heart. He refused to let her face flash in the forefront of his mind, aggressively shoving it back.
“Yes, the human girl. That was the night your course shifted and your face appeared to me in a vision. I’ve been watching both of you. But there is something you don’t know. She is in grave danger.” Baba Yaga waved her hand, causing a small table to grow next to her chair. A cup of tea on a saucer flew in a blur from out of another part of the home—what Valek guessed to be the kitchen. The dark liquid inside the cup steamed as the hag sipped at it.
“We know, Madame Yaga. That’s why we are seeking your council. She is ill with fixation. We’re trying to save her.”
Baba Yaga’s mystical, purple glare snapped swiftly in Sarah’s direction. “I did not address, you, did I? Remain silent. You have disrespected me by allowing yourself to fall into the servitude of a Vampire. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing for you and me to discuss.” She waved her hand once, causing the pearly pink lips of Sarah’s mouth to completely vanish off her face. Sarah’s hands flew up to the space, which was now merely skin stretched over her mouth cavity, a terrified scream emitting itself from behind the layer of flesh. Baba Yaga turned her attention back to Valek. “And besides, I already know about the girl’s disease. There are other things racing to claim her fate.”
Valek nodded solemnly. “I am aware of those, too.”
“You are aware of very few things, Valek, so don’t get cocky! That is what I dislike about your kind. You know much less than you think you do, yet you parade about like you know it all. But there is more that will surprise you. Charlotte’s life has a bounty, now. There’s a price on her head. For some reason, this mortal has become a very valuable prize.”
Valek stayed silent, but nodded again.
“The Regime is in shambles, but there are still a few members at large…as I’m sure you know.” She meant the last part sarcastically.
“I do. Yes.” Valek lifted an eyebrow. “Is there anything more you can inform me on that matter?”
“No. There is not. Their magic is much stronger than even mine. They keep their actions and their future paths heavily guarded. I used to be the oracle for the Regime, you know.” She took another swig of her tea, her eyes going distant.
“And then what happened?”
Baba Yaga’s good eye glanced back at Valek, and she almost grinned. Almost. “You.”
Valek swallowed thickly. Had they fallen into a trap?
Baba Yaga’s belly rumbled under a massive cackle that seemed to cause the whole house to shake. “Not to worry. You noticed how this forest tends to watch you?” She smiled again and winked. “That is my protection from them finding me. If any member of the Regime happens to come seeking me, I simply pick up and leave.”
Valek’s eyes widened. “The chicken legs.”
“Precisely.”
“So…you haven’t any idea about where Aiden might be hiding?”
“Aiden is untraceable to me now, so I have no idea where he is. But Aiden should not be your main concern at the moment. What you fear most is happening at the hands of one of your own. A brother. Someone close to Charlotte.”
Valek straightened in his chair instantly. “Who do you mean? She is not safe?”
“You did not leave her in the finest care. Funny. I always thought you to be more vigilant than that. You seem such a thorough character.” The hag shrugged. She tilted her teacup, eyeing the remaining contents of it, before twisting and tossing it into the fire. A tealeaf reading, as Sarah had done.
The flames billowed higher before flashing in a more brilliant yellow.
It licked and danced until a definitive image was formed in the fire. Valek watched in horror as the image of a face appeared from the blaze. Its mouth was stretched in a long and anguished scream as parts of the fire colored itself in a deeper red. Blood, he recognized.
Immediately, Valek leapt up from his chair. Something sharp lurched in his chest and crawled up to this throat. His eyes pricked. “Lottie….” He’d done it again. Failed her…again. This was becoming a vicious cycle. He needed to go to her at once.
“Yes. You left your love in misery. More than just broken skin, you left her with a broken heart.” Baba Yaga’s words echoed and swirled about the room until the fire eventually dwindled into ash. The room became dark.
Baba Yaga waved her hand at Sarah again. A harrowing cry ripped from the little Witch at last, skin stretching wide until it separated in fleshy strips, revealing her mouth. She felt around her lips, doubling over and sobbing.
“I have to go to her. Sarah, we are turning around!”
“No, we can’t! She’ll die!”
“She will die anyway if we continue on as we are! I’d rather her be in my care! I’ve already failed her. What is the point of this journey if I come home to find her already dead? I have been careless and idiotic!”
Sarah’s face fell as though someone had pulled a dark veil across it. The fates had once again taken control of her mind, displaying for Valek the hell he had left Charlotte in. The images were far too graphic and disturbing and left Valek with a sick sloshing feeling winding around in his gut.
Of Blood and Magic Page 34
