Mistress of the Solstice (26 page)

A rustle of grass made Ivan turn around.

Baba Yaga stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest.
“So, that’s your friend, eh? I can
see now why he was so hard to find!”

Ivan stepped back. Why was Wolf silent? What was wrong?

Baba Yaga limped slightly, but despite her ancient looks, her walk was
as energetic as that of a young woman. She no longer looked disheveled.
Ivan wasn’t sure when she had a chance to change and
clean up, but her graying hair was tidily braided and tucked away into
a clean linen dress, with an apron tied on top. In fact, she no longer
looked that old either—a respectable, middle-aged matron with the
remains of a majestic beauty set deeply into her fine-boned face.

It seemed to Ivan that as she walked across the glade she and Wolf were
having an inaudible conversation. Then she reached the beast and
stopped in front of him, her arms once again crossed over her chest.

“So,” she said.
“You dare show your ugly, hairy muzzle here? You are
no longer afraid of my wrath?”

Wolf growled. Ivan once again became acutely aware of how similar were
Wolf’s eyes and the eyes of Baba Yaga.

“Silent?” She
seemed even younger now, slender like a village maiden.
“No voice left, eh?”

Wolf growled again and lowered his head.

She cocked her head, her face lighting up with a smile.
“So, you really are mute. Wordless, like the beast
you are.”

Wolf raised his head. Their eyes locked—yellow to
yellow. There was a conversation going on in their gazes. Watching them
made Ivan feel like an intruder.

Then Baba Yaga stirred. “Boy! Bring me that old axe
you found behind the stove. A beast, such as he is,
doesn’t deserve to be killed with a decent
weapon.”

Ivan didn’t move. After a moment she turned, her angry
glance forcing him to step back. “You dare defy me,
kettle meat?”

Ivan swallowed. “Wolf is my friend, and whatever spell
has made him lose his speech, he is no ordinary beast. I will not let
you harm him, old mother.”

Her vertical pupils narrowed to slits. Her gaze stung.
“You dare speak on his behalf?”

It took all of Ivan’s courage to hold her gaze.
“I do, old mother. Whatever the reason for his
silence, whatever has come between the two of you in the past, he is
all I have in the world and I will stand by him.”

“All you have in this world, boy?”
She leaned toward Ivan. “What kind of an outcast are
you?”

Ivan shifted from foot to foot. He’d never articulated
how he felt about Wolf, but what he’d said was true.
Wolf had become his only true friend in the whole world. He would not
let this old woman mistreat his friend.

It crossed his mind that, powerful as she was, there was nothing he
could do to stop her, but he dismissed the unhelpful thought.

“It’s my fault we came here, old
mother. I messed up. Wolf agreed to help me out. He
wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been so
foolish, so if you need to punish someone, it would be
me.”

Baba Yaga sighed and lowered her arms. “You must have
a real power to bring out the goodness in people, boy. Otherwise, how
could I see this monster and not smash both of you to pieces like I
should?”

Wolf looked at her in silence, his tension betrayed only by the knots of
tight muscle that made his thick gray fur bristle at the neck.

Baba Yaga laughed. “Now I know why your faithful
companion left you all alone to face my wrath. And, you are brave
indeed to face me for the sake of this unworthy creature. Perhaps he
still has a grain of good in him, to inspire such
devotion.”

Her gaze lost some of its iron. Ivan stirred, as if the bonds that had
held him in place were suddenly loosened.

“Perhaps,” he ventured,
“we can all sit around and eat some rabbit stew?
There’s plenty for everyone.”

Baba Yaga stared at him. Ivan suppressed an urge to cower under the
yellow flame of her stare. Yet, at length her gaze softened, and the
set of her jaw eased a bit.

“I can’t decide if
you’re daft or clever. Whichever way it is,
you’re truly something else.”

She turned and made her way back into the hut.

Ivan and Wolf exchanged glances. After a moment’s
hesitation Ivan turned to follow the old woman. At length, he heard the
shuffle of paws following him through the grass.

 

Marya

“
S
how me Ivan,” I commanded the
Mirror.

The mist of the polished surface thinned to reveal a shape crawling
through thick grass. It was hard to tell whether he was anywhere near
the Hidden Stream.

“What do you think?” my father
asked.

I scoffed. “An ordinary fool.” Seen
like this, the boy indeed looked like a common villager. Perhaps all
the talk of the prophecy was making us see things that
weren’t there?

“Perhaps you’re right. Yet, Leshy and
the Net were no accident. Someone is helping him.”

“The father of some unfortunate maid you
kidnapped?”

“Why involve ourselves in guesswork?
Let’s see for ourselves.”

“All right.” I turned to the
Mirror. “Show us how Ivan came to our
kingdom.”

The Mirror grew dim and light again, picking up the story from where
I’d left it last, as Ivan was riding out of his
kingdom. His horse was truly a disaster. No beast of any magic, for
sure.

Uneventful days flashed in the Mirror like moments as Ivan rode,
following a trail that led out of their kingdom to the east. He crossed
the border of the Fourteenth kingdom, and into a deep forest.

The
Thirty Ninth kingdom can be reached from the
Twelfth Kingdom by riding east for something like…a year, I believe?
That is, if you don’t encounter any obstacles on the
way.

The first of the obstacles came in the shape of a crossroads with a huge
boulder planted right in the middle of it. The Mirror showed us the
inscription on the boulder, made in runic letters. It said:

Come thou straight, and let thyself and thy mount be starved.

Come thou right, and lose thy mount.

Come thou left, and lose thy life.

Turn thou back, and go in peace.

By the looks of it, it must have been written very long ago.

I found myself wishing for Ivan to turn back. Really, whatever his
quest, it couldn’t be worth the trouble.

His next logical choice was to go right and, in spite of the complete
uselessness of his horse, Ivan hesitated before making that decision.
He actually made a move to go straight, but reasonably decided against
it.

He turned right and followed the disappearing path deeper and deeper
into the woods. Judging by its state, not many traveling knights ever
made it down here, and of those few, even fewer decided to go on after
seeing the stone.

The path Ivan followed soon ended in a glade, covered in scattered
horse bones, some of them years old. We watched Ivan dismount and walk
around the glade trying to find where the trail lead from there.

We saw his horse suddenly panic and jump away from
something that appeared like lightning and landed straight on the
horse’s back. A huge gray beast. It growled, aiming at
the panicked horse’s neck, and in seconds
Ivan’s unfortunate mount fell to the ground, squealing
and kicking its legs in the air before finally going still.

The gray beast lifted its head, looking at Ivan’s
horrified face, and the Mirror turned the view around to let us look
straight at its blood-stained snout.

I heard my father gasp even as I echoed the sound myself.

“The Gray Wolf,” my father
whispered.

I shivered. One of the oldest creatures that ever lived, the Gray Wolf
was one of the Primals, like Bayun the Cat. Everyone, including the
Immortals, feared Primal magic, a mysterious form of power no creature,
living or undead, could resist. Even the worst of our kin thought it
best to stay out of his path.

Ivan was likely the only one in the area apparently oblivious to this
knowledge. Not only did he show no reverence at the sight of the great
beast, but he actually reached for his sword and would have drawn it if
the wolf in the Mirror hadn’t produced a sound more or
less resembling human laughter.

“Put that thing away, boy. You’ll only
hurt yourself.”

“Why did you kill my horse?” Ivan
demanded.

I held my breath. I shivered at the thought of what might happen to Ivan
after addressing Wolf in such a disrespectful way.

But the beast was apparently in a forgiving mood.

“Did you read the sign?”

“What sign?”

“On the boulder over there.” Wolf
sat on the ground and scratched his ear in a dog-like gesture. He was
huge, his head in a sitting positing coming up nearly to
Ivan’s shoulder. “Oh,
don’t tell me your parents never taught you to read.
What do they teach you traveling knights these days,
anyway?” He threw a longing glance at the horse
carcass, clearly looking forward to a meal.

Ivan lifted his chin. “I can read as well as anyone.
Of course, I read the sign.”

“Maybe you don’t know your left from
your right?” Wolf spoke with exaggerated patience,
as if talking to a little child.

For the first time Ivan looked doubtful. “You
mean…Did you write that inscription on the
boulder?”

“Thank the stars. Finally!”

“But…”

Wolf sighed. “The horse was your mount,
right?”

“Yes…”

“There you have it!” Wolf triumphantly
bared his teeth and took a step toward the horse.

Ivan watched him circle his dead prey, as if forgetting all about Ivan.

“But what am I supposed to do without a
horse?” he asked after a pause.

“Why should I care?” Wolf
growled.

“You should care because you killed my
horse.”

“Arrrggggghhhhhh!” The
wolf’s growl flattened the leaves of the trees, and
rippled outward. Even the walls in my room trembled.

Ivan jumped away, keeping his hands in front of him in a calming
gesture. “Just tell me what I should do next, all
right?” he asked in a soothing voice.