“Alas, even the dim-witted Humans would have suspected something if I used the same trick twice, so once the woman had been calmed enough by her new baby to be able to give me useful information, I started simply stealing the children away. The added fear and misery this caused was even more fun than watching that building burn to smoking ashes.” A horrible sharp-toothed smile accompanied the agreeable memory.
“I remember that fire,” Liam said, shocked. “We assumed the baby had perished with her parents. But that was only eight months ago.” He pointed at the little girl. “The baby wasn’t even a year old. This child must be at least five or six.”
The queen shrugged. “Time flows strangely here in the Otherworld, and differently for different Humans. Do your tales not tell of those who ventured here for a day or a month, only to discover that many years had passed when they returned home, and all those they’d loved were dead and they themselves forgotten?”
The blood rushed from his face, but Baba said reassuringly, “Don’t worry; the Baba Yagas are immune to this effect, so we can come and go as needed between the worlds. And since you’ve been with me, you should be fine. No more time will have passed back home than we have perceived here.”
He drew in a shaky breath. “Oh. Good.”
But then she added, “Obviously for Melissa, though, it has been years, and for all that time she had been raising this child as if it were her own.” And his heart plummeted to the tiled floor again, lying there in smoking ruins like the farmhouse Maya had burned.
“Melissa?” The queen’s sharp ears had been following their conversation. “You know this Human woman?”
Liam gave another shallow bow, although his spirit wasn’t in it. “Her name is Melissa McClellan, Your Majesty. And she is—was—my wife. She disappeared two years ago. I had no idea she was here.” He swallowed hard. “When she disappeared, I assumed she’d run away.”
The queen’s expression softened slightly. “Then the baby she lost was yours?” She inclined her head. “We are sorry for your loss. It is a dreadful thing, to lose a child.”
Then the queen glanced from him, standing upright in his uniform, to the wreck that was Melissa, her gaze fixed on the dark-haired child as she alternated crooning at the girl and screaming obscenities at the guards who held them apart.
“You seem to have borne up better under the hardship,” the queen said in a wry understatement. “It’s a pity.”
Liam lowered his eyes to the ground, seeing a distant, happy past rather than gemstone tiles and fanciful designs. He sighed. “Yes, Your Majesty. It is.”
“And what do you propose to do with this unexpected child, Baba Yaga?” the king asked. “You were told that you might take all the children back to their homes as your reward for aiding this kingdom. I am sure my beloved consort would agree that this child falls under that agreement.”
Baba turned to Liam, her expression bemused. “Huh. What do you think, Liam? Does she have anyone waiting for her at home?”
He pondered the question as he looked across the expanse of floor at the self-contained yet somehow impish-looking girl. “I don’t recall the family having any close relatives. And even if there were some, frankly, I’m not sure how I’d explain a baby that was now a six-year-old, even though less than a year has passed. Thank goodness that hadn’t happened yet with any of the other children.” He shook his head. “But I can’t see leaving her here either. Especially with Melissa.” The idea was appalling.
“That’s a point.” Baba stared at the child, looking thoughtful. She tapped one slim finger against her lips. “I might have a solution. Do you mind if I try something?”
Hell, it wasn’t as though he had any better ideas. “Go right ahead.” This should be interesting.
Even the queen looked intrigued as Baba walked over to where the child stood, taking in the exotic court scene with wide dark brown eyes.
“Hello,” Baba said, kneeling down so she was at the same height as the little girl. “My name is Baba Yaga. Do you have a name?”
The little girl blinked, throwing a glance over her shoulder at where Melissa stood, still now, her head hanging down. “The Mother calls me Hannah,” she said, with a tone that implied she wasn’t all that thrilled with the woman she called “the Mother” or the name, or both.
Liam winced when he heard the name. But of course Melissa had used their dead child’s name; she probably no longer had any idea they weren’t one and the same.
“Huh,” Baba said again. “I see.” She looked the girl in the eyes as steadfastly as if she was talking to another adult. “Tell me, do you know that there are two worlds—this one, the Otherworld, and the mundane plane, where the Humans live?”
Hannah nodded. “The Mother told me stories about that other place. She didn’t like it.”