We stepped through the door and found ourselves immediately within the cauldron room, which had been a key feature of every incarnation of the hut we’d seen thus far. This one was a bit horrifying. It was filled floor to ceiling with bird cages, most of them containing mummified remains of domovoi, those strange little creatures like Hatch, who as far as we knew was still back with Nadya and her kids.
A few domovoi were still living, but they looked emaciated and even perhaps a bit desiccated. It turned my stomach to see what Baba Yaga had done to them. There was no way they’d gotten like this because she’d been gone for a few weeks or so. She’d left them like this on purpose, likely to punish them. But for what?
“It looks like you’re not the only one who is bad at feeding your pets,” Terry said to Gregor.
The fighter looked offended. “Hey, I fed Barnaby.”
I didn’t care what the poor things had done to warrant this, and neither did the others. We immediately began trying to free the small, bearded men. But the rescued creatures didn’t seem to even notice our efforts. It was as if they’d completely given up on life. Even when Terry tried force feeding one, it barely even registered the action.
“Here, let me do it,” Gregor said, pushing Terry aside. “You’re doing it wrong.” He then considered it. “Do you have any cake?”
“No, just what’s left of that nasty stew from the dragon fortress.”
One of the domovoi raised its head and muttered in Russian, “Many huts for many tales, but all begin here. Vasilisa and her little doll. Hungry children and a house of gingerbread. Little Otik. The forsaken son, come to claim his birthright.” Then the domovoi lowered its head once more.
“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Burin said.
“Something about gingerbread,” Gregor replied.
“I caught that too. But who would build a house of gingerbread?” Burin asked. “That sounds like a weird thing to build a home out of. Wouldn’t be very structurally sound.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I said. “It was a lure for naughty children so the witch could fatten them up and eat them. It’s an old folk tale.” I thought for a moment. “In fact, I recognize references to a couple old folk stories in what he said,” I said. “But I’m not sure what the rest is.”
“I’ve heard that story too,” Gregor said. “What are the others about?”
“The one I recall well is about a girl, Vasilisa, who was given a magic doll by her dying mother. When her father remarried, her stepmother was very cruel and refused to allow the girl to marry as it was not proper for the younger to marry before the older, and the woman’s two daughters were repugnant.
“One day her father had to embark on a journey. His wife sold the house and moved them all to a gloomy hut by the forest. One day she gave each of the girls a task and put out all the fires except a single candle. Her older daughter then put out the candle, whereupon they sent Vasilisa to fetch light from Baba Yaga’s hut. The doll advised her to go, and she went.
“Baba Yaga told the girl that she must perform several tasks, something about separating poppy seeds from dirt and grains of corn that had spoiled from those that hadn’t, if I recall correctly. Also, basic cooking and cleaning or something. The girl despaired at being unable to do the work, and Baba Yaga had promised to kill her if she failed.
“But the magic doll could accomplish what no mere person could, so she did the work. When Baba Yaga returned, she discovered that the work was done and could find no fault with it, so she gave the girl a lantern made of a skull and filled it with witch’s flames. Vasilisa took the lantern home, discovering that the stepmother and stepsisters were unable to light even a single candle while she was gone. Even fires brought in from outside would go out as soon as they were brought into the home.
“When Vasilisa entered the home, the fires leapt from the lantern and burned her wicked stepsisters and stepmother to ashes. Then she buried the skull, as Baba Yaga had instructed, and returned to the city, where she became the assistant to a clothmaker and ended up marrying the tsar, or something like that.”
“It’s too bad we don’t have some of that gingerbread,” Terry said, obviously a little freaked out by the words ‘magic doll’ and trying desperately to forget I’d even said them. “I’d bet anything these little guys would eat if we had something like that.”
“What’s a tsar?” Burin asked.
“Like a king, or an emperor. Tsars used to rule Russia until revolutionaries killed the tsar and his family over a hundred years ago.”
“So, should we try anything else for these guys?” Terry asked, indicating the domovoi.
“I’m not sure there’s much we can do,” Burin said, regret in his voice.
“Just leave the cages open, and some food,” Gregor said. “If they are to survive, they must want it and make that choice for themselves.”
I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t really argue with his logic. We’d tried everything we could, and we had work to do. “There’s a passageway through the fireplace,” Terry said, not waiting for us to acknowledge him. He just immediately began heading through. Gregor looked at me and rolled his eyes, then followed behind him.
Burin and I followed behind. From up ahead, I heard something shout in Russian, but I couldn’t quite make out what it had said. Then Terry said something, and Gregor responded. “He wants you to feed him,” Gregor said.
“You’re better at feeding things,” Terry said. “You do it.”
“Alright,” Gregor said. He picked up Terry and held him out before jokingly shouting in Russian, “How do you like your little girl seasoned?”
As I entered the room, I could see vines and underbrush everywhere. A voice called out from the brush, but I couldn’t see the source since I was still squatting to make my way through the fireplace. “OOH! My siblings gave me a lovely fat goat, but this is better!” I could hear something big begin moving through the brush.”
“What did he say?” Terry asked, panic in his voice.
“He thinks you’re a goat,” Gregor answered.
“Oh, heck no,” Terry said, leveling his gun and firing at the charging creature. Just as I stood, I witnessed as a massive, corpulent mandragora struck Terry. “Hey! Why didn’t you move me?!” he whined, but then he didn’t look so hot. I suddenly recalled that mandragoras had a poison, and if Terry had been inflicted, that couldn’t be good.
“Sorry,” Gregor said, pushing Terry behind him and kicking the plant several times. I unleashed a fireball, scorching the entire room aside from where my friends and I were standing.
“See! She has the right idea!” Terry shouted with a maniacal titter. “VIOLENCE SOLVES EVERYTHING!”
A few moments later, the mandragora was dead, but Terry wasn’t done. He looked incredibly confused, and fired wildly at Gregor. Gregor deflected one of the bullets – don’t ask me how he does that, he just does sometimes, but he does. He was struck several glancing blows by wildly flying bullets.
“VIOLENCE!” Terry shouted, giggling like a maniac. “MORE VIOLENCE!”
Still bleeding, Gregor, quickly disarmed Terry and Burin quickly moved to restrain him. I wasn’t that great at physical action, but I had a trick up my sleeve. I quickly cast a spell and Nebbie grew into a dragon with glistening black scales whose wings shone with the light of a starry sky. She quickly snatched Terry’s guitar case away. I knew he had some grenades in there, and we didn’t want to risk that he’d get one out.
Gregor pulled the nanite gun from his pack – he’d kept it after the fight with Burin’s demon, and we’d made a stronger one for Terry to use – and injected Terry. The effect was immediate, and the wild look in Terry’s eyes began fading.
Terry looked up at Nebula. “Why is Typhon’s mom here?” He then turned to Burin. “And why are you hugging me?”
“You were poisoned, I think,” Burin said. “You shot Gregor.”
“Oh,” Terry said, looking crestfallen.
“Just a little,” Gregor said. “I’ll be fine.”
After Burin released him, Terry took a look at the wound. “It’s definitely not going to kill you, but let’s tend to it anyway.” He took his case from Nebula and then injected Gregor with the more powerful nanite gun. “There,” he said as the wounds began closing. “Good as new.”
Burin turned to me. “So, how did you know they were there?” he asked, pointing out into the smoldering brush.
“How did I know what was where?” I asked.
“Oh. I see,” he said, leaving me a bit confused.
Through the undergrowth, we found a wardrobe that opened up into another room. For some reason, that sounded familiar, but I couldn’t recall which of the stories about Baba Yaga involved a wardrobe in the wilderness. Not that it mattered, but it was annoying to feel like you know something but can’t quite remember. Oh well.
The next version of the hut was pretty dark, with only the light from a single candle. As we went inside, that subdued light filled the room with numerous long and sinister looking shadows. Burin seemed nervous for some reason, and immediately began trying to detect magic in the room. “There’s definitely something here,” he said.
Gregor walked over to investigate the candle while Terry and I made our ways into the room. “I think there’s treasure here,” Terry said, rooting through a chest.
“There’s magic coming from the candle,” Burin said as Gregor picked it up.
I was nervous, so I activated my internal store of power and cast a more powerful magic detection divination. “The magic on the candle… that’s a Gate spell!”
“What does that mean?” Terry asked, but was interrupted as Burin spoke.
“Gregor?” the dwarf asked. “Where’s your shadow?”
Gregor looked over to where it should be. “I’ve been working out.”
“It’s over there!” Terry said, shooting at the terrifying looking shadow that was nowhere near where it should have been. The shadow fled through the fireplace.
“I think it’s a shadow demon!” Burin said drawing his axe.
“Hey, Terry, you’ve been working out too!” Gregor said.
Terry looked at the wall. “Dammit! That bastard took my shadow too!”
“Lyriana!” Burin said. “They don’t like light!” With a hard swing, he destroyed the magical candle.
I grinned. “On it!” I once more called on my inner power and cast a spell, this time imbuing my ring with exceedingly bright light. I held up my ring, illuminating the entire inside of the room as though we were out in the brightness of day.
There were two shadows on the wall, one each for Burin and Terry. The shadows were writhing in agony in the bright light, making them easy targets for the others. “We should go after Gregor’s shadow!” Terry said, rushing off into the fireplace.
The rest of us followed after him and soon found ourselves in a room filled with coffins and a stout door. Seated behind a coffin was a thanadaemon, guarding the door. In his hand was a scythe, and he had cards set up before him on a coffin.
“Did you see a shadow come through here?” Terry asked.
“I did,” the thanadaemon responded, speaking directly into our minds, “but I didn’t see any reason to stop it.”
“How long have you been here?” Terry asked. “It’s pretty dusty.”
“Longer than you’ve been alive, child,” the daemon answered.
He was being cagey, so I thought maybe I could convince him to be more forthcoming. “Excuse me,” I said, making dozens of little changes in body language and flashing my most winsome and girlish smile. If he was like any normal man, acting like this would have him eating out of my hand in minutes. “We are terribly sorry for bothering you, but we’re trying to save Baba Yaga. If there’s any information you can give us about where we are, we’d appreciate it greatly.”
The daemon’s poster changed, becoming more open and he laughed, a dusty sound that filled the room. “Why, of course, little lady. You see, I’m not sure where you’re from, but we’ve come to the place of Baba Yaga’s birth.”
“What?!” I gasped, forgetting everything I was doing. “We’re really on Baba Yaga’s home world?”
“I swear it,” the daemon said.
“Please,” I begged. “I have to go outside.”
He shifted his chair, clearing the way to the door. “Be my guest.”
“Thank you,” I said, rushing out the door. As I went outside, I heard him telling the others that he had some treasures that might help us save Baba Yaga.
It was nighttime outside and we were in a clearing inside a forest, so I had a clear view of the stars. I looked up into the sky and gasped. “What is it?” Nebula asked.
“That’s Cygnus,” I said. “And there’s Draco. And Lyra.” I turned to my companion. “Nebbie, this is Earth! I’m home!” The cat – well, still a dragon – nuzzled me affectionately.
I pulled out my phone and told Cortana to call Daddy. “Error. Unable to communicate with satellite.”
“Try another!” I said.
“All satellites unreachable,” the VI said. What? Had the aliens destroyed all of our satellites already?
“What are our options?” I asked. Then I thought. “Could the box boost signal enough to contact anyone? Or even at least try to scan for incoming signals?”
“Chances of success low.”
Well, they weren’t zero. I pulled out the box and set it up. “Scan for signals. And use the stars to estimate our location.”
“Working.” A few seconds later, a klaxon sounded. “Alert. Anomaly detected. Stars not in locations expected for date. Analyzing planetary locations and extrapolating temporal location.” What? Temporal location? What did she mean by that? “Temporal location confirmed. Running program Alpha Six. Stand by.”
“Alpha six? What’s that?” I asked.
Then time froze. I knew that it had because the light breeze stopped abruptly, with a leave just stuck in the air a few feet from me. The box shifted itself, opening a hidden chamber as a hologram appeared before me.
“Daddy?” I said.
“Hey there, Pumpkin,” his voice said as he smiled at me. “If you’re seeing this, then I was right, and you have somehow managed to find yourself back on Earth, but at a time over a hundred years ago. I don’t know the year exactly, but if I had to guess, you’re at some point in the final year of World War One.
“As to how you got there, I have no idea. How I figured you would get there, though? That I can answer. Please step over to the box. Inside, you will find a book. I know you got there because you will take this book with you and lose it, though where isn’t all that important. It’ll be found no matter where you leave it, as long as it’s near where people are. Then, many years in the future, I will encounter this book again and the advice contained within will save my life.”
I walked over and picked up the book. It was a copy of Daddy’s journal from his adventures, but it was teeming with powerful magic. Even I couldn’t understand what half of the spells on it were for. The only one I had an inkling of was a spell that would prevent anyone who didn’t already know the story from reading it. And there seemed to be others that would conditionally reveal bits and pieces of the story to the correct people.
The hologram continued. “Now remember, just because I knew you’d get there doesn’t mean I know that you’ll get back. Be careful. Whatever dangers you’ve faced, they’re nothing like what you’ll find in World War One Russia. Yes, Russia. I bet my insistence that ‘Russian will be important to you later’ when you were a little girl makes a whole lot more sense now, doesn’t it?”
A tear streaked down my cheek. “I was such a pain about that,” I whispered. But he had persisted, and I had learned.
“Pumpkin, before I go, I need you to understand just how proud your mother and I are of you. You’ve grown into a fine young woman, and I’m certain that the kingdom you’re creating will be a glorious sight to behold. Whatever you’re doing there has to be important. So take care of yourself, and make it home safely to us.” And then he began to sing.
“See the white light, the light within
Be your own disciple
Fan the sparks of will
For all of us waiting
Your kingdom will come
Now, rays of power shining
Rays of magic fall
On the golden voice
That speaks within us all
For all of us waiting
Your kingdom will come
Kingdom come.”
Back when I was five, I went through the princess phase. One night, just before bed, I asked my parents if I could grow up to become a queen. At the time, I didn’t realize they had the money to just make it happen literally. I was just asking in the way little girls sometimes do. Momma had just smiled and stroked my hair, but Daddy answered me.
“I’m certain of it,” he said. “For you see, the future is your kingdom. And you and those your age will build the kingdom that is the future with every single choice you make. I cannot wait to see the kingdom you build.” And then he sang to me, the same song his hologram had sung just now.
At the time, I didn’t know it was an old metal song from before even he was born. He sang it softly, like a lullaby. And that wasn’t the last time he did so. Every night before bed, either he or Momma would sing it to me. They kept doing it until I was nine and decided that I was too old for lullabies. I’m pretty sure they would still come in after I’d slept and sing to me anyway and probably did so for years.
He smiled at me one last time. “I love you, Pumpkin,” he said, and the hologram faded.
“I love you too, Daddy,” I said, the tears streaming down my face.
Time resumed, and I could do nothing but clutch the book to my chest and cry. Then suddenly, after a minute or so, the door flung open and Gregor rushed out. I quickly did what I could to try to hide that I’d been crying. I’m pretty sure it didn’t work, but Gregor either didn’t notice or chose not to say anything. In fact, he seemed angry and dangerously focused.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“The Man Who Would Not Die is here! He is somewhere in this place!”
What?! “That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “There’s no record of anyone who lived on Earth in this time period who could be described…” I trailed off as I remembered something.
I desperately fumbled for my phone and searched through the database within. I was shaking as every clue began to fit together, revealing the answer to a puzzle that had been before me the whole time. I held up the phone to show Gregor the image.
“Do you recognize this man?” I asked.
“That’s him! That’s the Man Who Would Not Die! How do you have his image?”
“Gregor, he’s from my world, in the distant past, where we are now. I didn’t realize the connection until just now. And based on everything else we’ve heard, I think he’s Baba Yaga’s son.” I looked at the phone, and the words Daddy had spoken when I’d met him in the dream realm echoed in my brain. “‘The man who would not die’, eh? What did they do, run afoul of Rasputin or something?”
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