A Question of Magic (18 page)

The cottage lurched and Serafina staggered. Maybe
the cat was right about going somewhere far from people, even if for only a few days.

“Chicken hut, chicken hut, take me to a place far from any town or village,” Serafina said in a loud voice, then braced herself against the cupboard when the cottage changed direction. “I'm going to take a nap now,” she told the cat as she shuffled toward her bed. “You might as well sleep, too, so you'll be ready to hunt when we get there.”

Serafina was making her breakfast the next morning when the cottage slowed and abruptly settled to the ground. She had thought she'd heard a commotion outside just before the cottage stopped, but it was quiet now and she wasn't sure that she had heard correctly.

“Where do you think we are?” she asked Maks as she hobbled toward the window. The glass was so ash-covered from the previous stop that she couldn't see out.

“I don't know,” said the cat, jumping to the top of the trunk and batting at the glass with his paw. “I smell trees and grass and mice and …”

The bones were already pouring out the door when the cat added, “… men and horses and—Shut that door, Baba Yaga!”

She stopped, stunned, halfway to the door. The
cottage had brought them to a valley she had visited before. Normally it was a peaceful place where her only visitors were rabbits, deer, and occasionally a curious bear. Now, however, the lush grass was trampled from horses' hooves and ragged shoes. Men caught in the throes of battle had stopped in midswing at the arrival of the house on chicken legs. It was as if the world had frozen and was waiting to see what she would do.

Serafina shuffled to the threshold and peered out the door. She had never seen so many people looking at her at once, some in fear and some as if her arrival was wondrous. Then suddenly everyone began to move again. Many of the men returned to wielding their swords or maces or axes, galloping their horses from one fray to another, or turning where they stood to slash at their opponents. Others fled from the field, dodging the men who were still fighting. But there were those who turned to their officers as if to learn what to do. It seemed that in their minds, Baba Yaga's arrival had changed something.

Serafina watched, unable to move, as the officers rallied their men. She could see two distinct groups now. Those who followed the standard bearing the griffin-and-bear design of King Borysko wore splashes of crimson on their helms, while the men hurrying to the standard bearing a kraken wore a muddy green.

“King Kolenka's men,” she said under her breath even as they raised the kraken high and charged in her direction.

“Shut the door!” screamed Maks.

Startled, Serafina dropped her cane. It fell to the floor with a clatter, landing across the threshold. She looked up as a wave of foot soldiers swept across the trampled grass, urged on by officers on horseback, the kraken standard waving above them. The field seethed as soldiers bearing the bear and griffin tried to stop King Kolenka's men, who were carrying the battle toward Serafina.

“Baba Yaga, get us out of here!” the cat yowled.

She was leaning down, reaching for her cane, when an arrow slammed into the doorframe, the breeze from its passing ruffling her hair. Grabbing the cane with fumbling fingers, she backed into the cottage and slammed the door behind her. “Chicken hut, chicken hut, take us far away!” she cried, stumbling toward the table.

Even as the cottage rose to its feet, arrows thrummed into the door. Serafina glanced toward the ceiling as more arrows struck the roof like lethal rain. Suddenly the door slammed open, admitting the bones and skulls. Arrows followed them into the room, but the bones turned, swatting them away from Serafina and out the
still-open door. Instead of returning to the trunk, the skulls clustered around the doorway, screaming at the archers and gnashing their teeth until the door began to close.

When the door was finally shut, the skulls flew to the trunk, congratulating one another on their ferocity. Serafina was dismayed to see that arrows had cracked some of them and that Yure had an arrow protruding from his eye hole.

“You poor things!” she cried as the cottage strode away from the battlefield.

As the lid of the trunk closed, Maks glanced at it with disdain. “They're just numskulls. They can't feel a thing.”

“But they tried to help me!” Serafina said. Shuffling to the cupboard, she took out her jar of skull polish, a clean rag, and a pot of glue. It was hard for her to sit on the floor, but she inched her way down, groaning. When she lifted the lid of the trunk, the skulls were all talking at once.

“Did you see how brave I was?” Krany asked the skull beside him. “I was just as brave when I was alive. Why, once in the heat of battle—”

“Is everyone all right?” Serafina asked the skulls.

“Right as rain,” said a skull buried at the bottom of
the pile. “But could you please take out Yure's arrow? It's poking me something fierce.”

“Of course,” Serafina said, taking out the skull on top. “Why, you're all scratched! And you have an awful new crack!” she said to the skull below him. “It's going to take forever to polish you all again.”

Serafina took out one skull at a time, checking their smooth surfaces for cracks. Some she rubbed with polish, erasing scratch marks as best she could. She used glue on cracked skulls and tried to find the missing pieces of those more badly damaged. As she returned each skull to its resting place, she thanked it for helping her.

“Aren't you going to thank me?” Maks asked as Serafina sank onto the bed, rubbing her aching back.

“You didn't do anything,” she replied.

“Sure I did. I told you to shut the door.”

“And that was supposed to be helpful? I'd already figured that out for myself.”

“But you weren't doing it!” said the cat.

“And neither were you,” Serafina said, turning her back on him.

They spent most of that day closed up in the cottage as it strutted across the kingdom. When they passed
through a rainstorm, Serafina discovered that some of the arrows had made holes in the roof and it leaked in half a dozen places. She used the few pots and empty jugs she had to collect the dripping water.

It was early evening when the cottage stopped again. Although it had quit raining some time before, the pots and jugs were full and Serafina wanted to empty them. As soon as the floor of the cottage touched the ground, she opened the door, a sloshing pot in her hand. To her surprise, they had returned to Mala Kapusta.

Serafina was stunned. The town looked nothing like it had the last time she'd been there. Where well-kept shops and homes had lined the street, partial shells of buildings were all that remained. The sign that had hung over the tavern called the Bialy Jelen lay broken on the ground in front of the charred remains of the building. Parts of houses down the street were still intact, but none had been left completely unscathed.

The town seemed to be deserted, but Serafina had learned that often people remained behind in even the most ravaged areas, scratching a living out of the ruins as they waited to rebuild. Hungry and afraid, these people could be just as dangerous as enemy soldiers. Serafina decided that this would be another short visit; she would empty the pots and tell the cottage to leave.

She was pouring water out of a second pot when she glanced across the road. The tree that had held Alek's bouquets and letters was gone, probably chopped down when someone needed firewood. Numbed by all the destruction she had seen, she was still saddened at the thought that she would never again find letters from Alek in the hollow of that old apple tree. She was about to go back inside when she saw something fluttering on the ground near the tree's roots. Curious, she set the pot in front of her door and shuffled to the gate. “What are you doing?” Boris asked when she put her hand on the latch. “You shouldn't go out there!”

“I'm just going across the road,” she told him.

“I don't think this is a good idea,” the skull mumbled as she pushed the gate open.

Serafina sighed. “You can watch me the entire time. If you think something is wrong, holler and I'll come straight back.”

She could hear the skull grumbling as she crossed the road, but she really didn't care. The sight of something that looked like a dried flower and a bit of faded ribbon made her hurry the last few feet.
Is it possible?
she thought, using the cane to push aside dry leaves. Serafina gasped when she saw what rested beneath. A withered bouquet lay on the ground where the tree
had stood, and under it she spotted a rain-damaged letter.

Serafina's hands were shaking when she reached for the precious items. When she stood, her heart was pounding so fast that her body seemed to vibrate.

“Is that another letter?” called Boris. “Don't stand out there! Bring it back here to read.”

Clutching the letter and bouquet to her chest, Serafina hobbled across the road and through the open gate. She walked only a few feet before stopping to examine the letter. The parchment was dry now, but at some time rain had soaked it, making the ink run and the writing on the outside almost illegible. Even so, she was convinced that the letters read
“Fina.”

She was unfolding the parchment when she heard a sound from the field across the street.

“Go inside!” shouted Boris, but then another voice rose above his.

“I know I can ask only one question of Baba Yaga, and I would ask that question now,” called a voice Serafina knew better than any other.

She froze, her emotions so jumbled that she didn't know what to do. It was Alek, she was sure of it, and her heart sang with the knowledge that she was about to see him again. Only she didn't want
him
to see
her
, not like
this. She held her breath as she slowly turned toward him, letting it out in a gasp when she saw his beloved face. He was battered and filthy, but he looked so wonderful that tears filled her eyes.

Although she was afraid that Alek would be horrified when he saw how she had aged, his expression never showed anything except how much he loved her. “Alek!” she cried. “I thought I might never see you again. How are you? Is my family all right? And your father—how is he?”

“Everyone is fine. It's you we're worried about. We want you home, Serafina, and I'll do whatever it takes to get you there. I've been trying to find someone who can tell me how to help you, and I finally realized that I already know that person.
You
can tell me if I ask the right question.”

“Then ask me now,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Alek took a step closer, his gaze never leaving her face. “My question is—what must I do to turn you back into the girl I knew?”

Serafina shivered. Something had already changed. Someone had used his question to ask about her, knowing that he could ask only one question his entire life. “You have taken the first step by using your question
for me,” she replied. “The rest will not be so easy. Travel to the island called Paradise to ask the fairy Summer Rose for blue roses for my tea. Bring me a bushel of blue roses—enough to make tea for fifty years. Bring me the girl who will replace me as Baba Yaga—a girl who is the third daughter of a third daughter, who can read and write, and who is good of heart and sweet of soul. Bring me polish for my skulls and food for my cat, oil for my gate, and wood for my fire. Love me and believe in me, and you will have me back.”

“Let me see if I have this right. I need to find blue roses, a girl, skull polish, cat food, oil, and firewood. I already love you and believe in you, so this shouldn't be too hard. Any idea where this island is located?”

Serafina shook her head. “I'm sorry. I'd never even heard of it until I said it just now.”

“Don't worry. I'll find it. I probably just have to find the right map. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?”