A Question of Magic (8 page)

Serafina shrugged. “It's part of being Baba Yaga. I answer a question, my body gets older.” Setting the two filled cups on the table, she sat down across from Dielle.

“Really?” said Dielle. “I never would have guessed! How did you end up being Baba Yaga? It's not a family thing, is it?”

“My great-aunt was the last Baba Yaga, but I think she gave me the job because she heard somehow that I could read and write, and thought I would be a good fit.”

“You can read and write! I wish I could. Can you do anything else magic, besides answer questions? I mean, things that only a Baba Yaga can do.”

“That's pretty much it. Except, well, I can tell the cottage to move.”

“That's amazing! I bet you meet a lot of interesting people.”

“Every day,” said Serafina. “But you're the only friend who comes to see me. Aside from the people coming to ask me questions, the cat and the skulls are generally the only ones I have to talk to. Oh, and then there are the fairies … I never knew they were real until I became Baba Yaga. I think I can see them
because
I'm Baba Yaga. Why, the first time I saw them—”

“You've
seen
fairies?” Dielle asked, her eyes wide.

Serafina nodded. “A couple of times. They're very shy.”

“Where do you see them? Are there any here now?”

Serafina laughed. “No, I don't see them now and I don't see them very often. When I do, it's only when I'm outside.”

“Then let's go out!” Dielle said, hopping to her feet. “I'd love to see a fairy! Maybe if I'm with you when you see one, I'll see it, too!”

“All right,” Serafina said, laughing, “but give me a minute to finish my cider!”

“You can take it with you!” Dielle said, herding her toward the door. “Here, I'll take mine, too. We can drink while we're walking.” Snatching her mug from the table, Dielle hustled Serafina out of the cottage.

“I don't think fairies like to go where there are lots of people,” Serafina said, glancing in the town's direction.

“Then we'll go the other way,” said Dielle, turning toward the woods. “We'll find a place that the fairies would like.”

They took a well-traveled path into the woods, then followed a deer trail until they reached a meadow filled with wildflowers. “This looks like a good place, wouldn't you say?” Dielle said, climbing onto a big rock.

“I'd like this spot if I were a fairy,” said Serafina. She had already finished the cider in her mug and was thirsty from their hike, so when she saw a sparkling brook at the edge of the meadow, she knelt down to fill her mug, then did the same for Dielle.

“Do you see any fairies?” Dielle asked, looking at Serafina expectantly.

“Not yet,” Serafina answered with a laugh. “But I do hear voices.”

Dielle cocked her head to the side and listened. “I do, too,” she said with a sigh. “I don't think we went far enough into the woods.”

Serafina wandered toward the sound. Soon the trees thinned out, revealing two men and a wooden boat on the shore of a lake. One of the men was seated in the boat, while the other stood with one foot in the boat and the other on the bank. The man in the boat was struggling with the oars as the boat drifted away from shore.
Serafina heard Dielle come up behind her as the legs of the man who was standing spread farther and farther apart. Suddenly he fell in with a splash, his arms and legs thrashing.

Serafina started to laugh, and when she turned to Dielle, she found her friend laughing so hard that the water she had just sipped from her mug was coming out her nose. The two friends staggered away from the lake, collapsing on the edge of the meadow, where they laughed at the man falling into the water, at the sounds they made when they laughed, and for the sheer joy of laughing.

“My sides hurt,” Dielle moaned, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“So do mine,” Serafina gasped. She squeezed her eyes shut and took great shuddering breaths. When she opened her eyes, she was facing a yellow blossom bending so low it almost touched her face. A tiny man with pale green wings sat astride the blossom, watching her.

Serafina tried not to move, not wanting to frighten him. “Dielle,” she whispered.

“What?” Dielle asked, and hiccuped loudly.

The fairy shot into the air. His wings were just a blur when he flew away.

“Did you see him?” Serafina asked, sitting up and turning to face her friend.

“Who, the man in the boat or the one in the water?” Dielle asked, giggling. “Please, don't get me started again!”

“Never mind,” Serafina said as she got to her feet. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to tell Dielle that she had just missed seeing a fairy.

They headed back to Serafina's cottage. When they reached the gate, Dielle handed her mug to Serafina saying, “I should go now. Mother will be wondering what happened to me. I'll come see you again when I can. I don't suppose you know where you'll be in a few weeks?”

“I don't know where I'll be from one day to the next,” said Serafina, “but come visit anytime!”

“I will,” said Dielle. “I promise!”

The next three days were hectic, with more people coming to see Serafina than ever before. She was thinking about going for a short walk one day, just to get a break, when she heard Boris arguing with someone at the gate.

“No, I'm not going to let you in without announcing you. She's in charge here, not you! Baba Yaga! There's someone here to—Ow! Stop hitting me, old woman!”

Serafina peeked out the window to see an old woman
rap the skull with her cane. The gate swung wide, even though Boris was gnashing his teeth at their visitor. Serafina opened the door just as the woman stomped into the yard.

“If it isn't the new little Baba Yaga!” the stranger said, sneering. “I never thought I'd have a question for you, but then we live in unpredictable times, more's the pity. Invite me inside, girl. There are too many prying eyes out here!”

“Please come in,” Serafina said, stepping aside to let the woman past.

Leaning on her cane, the old woman hobbled across the threshold and paused to examine the room. Her nearly black eyes glittered when she took a seat at the table without being asked. Bits of dried grass and twigs stuck out of her filthy long gray hair, whose tangles had knots as big as her fist. One of the knots moved, and bright, beady eyes peered out at Serafina. When the old woman rested her arm on the table, tiny spiders leaked from her sleeve and skittered away. Serafina tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell that enveloped the woman. It was a heavy smell, like dead mice rotting in the walls of an old house; Serafina wondered if she'd ever be able to get rid of the odor.

The woman's eyes darted here and there as if she
was appraising everything. Even when sitting, she was in constant motion, her fingers thrumming the table. She was just turning toward Serafina when Maks growled at something outside the door.

The old woman had a string tied to her finger, and she'd begun to reel it in with her other hand. The string ran across the floor and out the door. As it shortened, it dragged something kitten-sized with matted fur and tiny red eyes over the threshold and across the cottage floor. Maks spit and snarled, swiping at its back without actually touching it. The little animal turned to snap at the cat, revealing sharp, pointed teeth almost too big for its mouth. Serafina could hear Mak's low growl as he trailed the creature across the room.

Suddenly the little animal jumped, landing on the old woman's lap. Reaching into her pocket, the woman pulled out something long and skinny. The creature began to gnaw on it, growling and making slobbery sounds as it chewed. Serafina took a step back when she realized that it was eating an old, dried finger.

“What did you want to ask me?” Serafina asked the woman.

“Aren't you one for getting right to the point!” said the woman. “No social niceties here! Fine, be that way. I came to ask you a question and ask I will, but I'll say
what I've got to say first. I've lived in the same house just outside Vioska for forty-seven years, and in all that time, my neighbors have learned to leave me alone. We have our occasional tiffs—they wonder where their lost relatives have gone and come nosing around my house, though they've never found anything, I've made sure of that! And when I need a few ingredients for my work, I sometimes go to them, stingy as they are. All in all, however, we've left one another alone. Until now, that is. It seems they have a new sheriff whose nose is bent out of shape over a few missing people. I could have stayed, of course, but they were planning to burn me at the stake, so I slipped away in the middle of the night. Only now I don't have anywhere to go. So here's my question—where can I go that I can scare people into letting me do what I want and they won't be able to do a thing about it?”

Serafina didn't want to answer this woman or help her in any way. Even though she tried to keep her mouth closed, her lips parted of their own accord, and she said in her Baba Yaga voice, “In the kingdom of Norovise lies a small village called Pimki. Most of the young people have moved away, leaving only the infirm and elderly. No one who currently resides in Pimki can stand against you.”

The old woman's eyes lit up. She licked her lips and stood, dumping her odd pet onto the floor. Moving toward the door, the woman dragged the creature on the string, pausing just inside the threshold to size up Serafina. “You don't look like much, but it occurs to me that you might tell someone where I've gone. By all rights I should kill you. I won't, however, because I've heard that anyone who kills the Baba Yaga becomes the next Baba Yaga, and I'm not about to get stuck with the job. I know I'm supposed to give you a gift, so consider your life my gift. If you're smart, you'll keep your mouth shut and not tell anyone about me.”

The woman paused, still staring at Serafina. “Hmm. You don't look that smart to me, so perhaps I should take one little precaution.” Pulling a crooked stick from the folds of her gown, she pointed it at Serafina and said, “If you tell anyone that I was here or the question that I asked, your tongue will shrivel in your mouth and you'll never be able to speak again.”

“I won't,” Serafina said, and waited until the old woman had gone before adding, “unless someone asks me.”

After the witch's visit, dozens of people came to see Serafina, but she waited until a farmer who seemed honest and reliable stopped by before mentioning that the sheriff of Vioska should come to see her. It wasn't until the end of the week, when she'd almost given up hope, that the sheriff finally appeared.

“I hear that you want to see me,” the sheriff said, laying his cap on the table as he took a seat. From the condition of the horse he'd left tethered to the gate, it appeared that the man had ridden long and hard to get to her, and he looked grateful when she handed him a cup of cold cider. She couldn't help noticing that he was only a few years older than Alek.

“I do, indeed,” Serafina said as she took the seat across from him. “I understand that you've had a problem.”

Ever since she mentioned the sheriff to the farmer, Serafina hadn't slept well. Visions of her tongue shriveling in her mouth had haunted her dreams, and she frequently found herself pressing her tongue against her teeth and swiping it across her palate. She had no control over what the sheriff might ask; if he asked the wrong question, she fully believed that her tongue would shrivel in her mouth. If only she could just tell the sheriff where the witch had gone without saying anything else, but she was afraid that he'd ask if the old
woman had visited the cottage. Serafina's Baba Yaga voice might then tell him precisely what the witch had warned her not to say. Even though she feared the curse, Serafina couldn't let the witch do what she had planned. People's lives depended on the sheriff knowing where the witch had gone.

The sheriff took a sip of his cider, watching her over the rim of the cup. When he set it down, he nodded and said, “We were about to capture a nasty witch when she suddenly disappeared.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Serafina. “I've heard that you can answer one question with the truth. I know what my question should be. Where did the witch go?”