Maya fought back viciously, parrying thrust after thrust, but she was clearly less practiced than Baba, who had spent her formative years sparring in the forest with Alexei until she could fight in her sleep. Finally, a twisting flick of the wrist sent Maya’s sword flying across the room and into the back of a chair, where it hung, quivering for a moment, before the wooden chair started to sizzle and char.
Maya’s crimson-tipped fingers curved into claws, and she barred teeth that suddenly looked sharper than they had a moment before. “You will never take me, bitch!” she shrilled. “Come, fight me with your bare hands and I will show you which of us is stronger!” A shimmering ball of magic began to form in the air above her head.
Liam made a protesting noise as Baba placed her sword gently on the floor. But she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. Besides, it would be rude to turn down such an invitation, and it never paid to be rude in a giantess’s home.
Maya had a moment to gloat before Baba hauled back her arm and punched the Rusalka in the face with every ounce of energy she had. She channeled all her anger over stolen children, tormented farmers, her own ruined reputation, a disintegrating Otherworld, and most of all, every single lie that Maya had told about good, honest, wonderful Liam into one glorious, long-overdue blow. Maya slid to the floor with a whimper and lay still.
“And I think you meant to say ‘witch,’” Baba said to the unconscious form at her feet.
The sound of applause brought her back down to earth, and she turned around to see Liam clapping his hands, a huge grin on his handsome face. Little Petey launched himself across the room and into the arms of the only person in the room who hadn’t terrified him, holding on for dear life, and Liam’s applause turned into a hug as the boy threatened to strangle him with his limpet grip.
“Don’t worry, Petey. You’re safe now,” he said reassuringly, trying to move the boy’s arms from around his neck. “This nice lady and I are going to take you back to your mama.”
Baba looked down at Maya’s limp body. “Just as soon as we run one little errand.” She heaved Maya over her shoulder with a grunt and headed out the door, followed by Liam and Petey, and trailed by a dolorous giantess in a large flowered tent.
“So, Petey,” Baba said. “How do you feel about meeting a real live queen and giving her a present?”
THIRTY
CLOSER TO THE palace, the Otherworld had managed to hold on to its enchanting beauty, although every once in a while Baba spotted a wilting flower or a jagged thorn on a rose that should have had none. As their strange parade neared the throne room, armed guards carrying curved silver rapiers stepped forward to stop them. But one look at Baba and her burden and they just shrugged and stepped aside. The giantess didn’t merit a second glance. This was the Otherworld, after all.
They stepped through a pair of twelve-foot-tall black onyx doors carved with fantastical animals into a magnificent room with a vaulted ceiling so high, even Zorica was dwarfed by it. Baba heard Liam’s gasp of wonder as he took in the pure white birch trees that grew in measured splendor along a grass-carpeted floor to form a path that led to the throne. A fountain chortled merrily in the middle of the room, throwing rainbows over the crystal chairs scattered nearby. Colorful birds with long, elegant tails flew in and out of its sparkling droplets.
Nobles lounged around the fountain or leaned decoratively against the ivory walls, most of them tall and stunningly beautiful to human eyes. Pointed ears poked through the long golden hair of some, while others had bodies that you had to look at twice to notice appendages that no normal mortal bore. Curious glances followed them as the courtiers cleared a path for Baba and her party as they made their way across the grass until it was replaced by tiles of green malachite and blue lapis, sparkling with gold-inlaid patterns that told tales of days gone by.
The queen and her consort sat on thrones carved from trees that still lived beneath them, sending out roots and buds and leaves like a tapestry around their feet. The queen raised one perfect eyebrow at the sight of her unexpected guests, and let slip a chilly smile.
“Welcome, Baba Yaga,” she said, not bothering to rise. “About time you got here. What on earth have you been up to?”
Baba dropped Maya’s flaccid body to the floor, not particularly gently, and gave a deep bow. Next to her, Zorica did the same, and Liam managed to copy them with reasonable grace, despite the small boy hiding behind him and clinging to one leg.
“Just doing as you asked, Your Majesty,” she said, gesturing toward the unconscious woman. “This is the person responsible for the current imbalance that troubles the Otherworld. She is a Rusalka, and calls herself Maya, at least in the Human world.”