Wickedly Magical (Baba Yaga, #0.5)

He nodded earnestly, his plain, sturdy face glowing with joy. “You have given me all I asked for, Baba Yaga. I will be sure to tell my babushka that her token was redeemed. Is there nothing else I can do to thank you?”


“You can take your children and live a good life,” Barbara said. “Love and appreciate them every day. That is all I ask. I’m afraid that, due to your wife’s lies in court, and Mr. Bell’s magical influence, you will probably have to start over under new names. But I am certain you can manage that.” She gave him a sly look. “I suspect your babushka knows someone useful. She seems like the type to know anyone worth knowing.”

Concern temporarily erased the newfound happiness from Ivan’s face. “But what if Grace decides to come looking for us? I don’t want the kids to have to spend their lives on the run. It just wouldn’t be fair to them.”

Barbara shook her head. “That won’t happen. Start your new lives, and I promise you, Grace will never bother you again. And a Baba Yaga never breaks her promise.”

Ivan smiled gratefully and turned back to finish buckling Katya into her seat.

“Wait,” Barbara said. “Perhaps there is one thing you can do for me.”

“Oh?” Ivan swiveled around, looking slightly alarmed. “What is it?”

She smiled. “When you tell the children tales of the Baba Yaga on a cold winter’s night, you might remember to mention that whether or not the witch is wicked often depends on who is telling the story.”

With a wave at the girls, she disappeared into the darkness. A moment later, they heard the sound of a motorcycle as it roared off down the road, and then there was silence.

***

A couple of weeks later, Barbara sat around a bonfire by a quiet lake with her two sister Baba Yagas. Now that the class she was giving was over, she was slowly making her way back across the country to her regular (albeit necessarily intermittent) teaching position at Berkeley, and all three Babas had taken advantage of a rare moment of coinciding lulls to gather together for an evening. The other two had taken paths through the Otherworld from the doorways hidden in each of their traveling homes, which was a whole lot quicker and easier than trying to meet up in any conventional way.

Beka lifted her glass of wine in a salute after Barbara finished telling them about her most recent adventures. “I love it when the good guys win,” she said. “Although I have to admit, I feel a little sorry for that Jonathan fellow.”

Barbara jerked her head up, almost spilling her drink. “What? Why?”

The pretty blonde had a pensive look as she gazed around the circle at the others. “We all know what it is like to grow up without families,” she said quietly. “With no parents or siblings, only an old witch far removed from her own humanity to raise us in a world apart from most normal people. I’m just saying that I understand how someone could want a family badly enough to go to some pretty drastic lengths to create one.”

“Understand, my ass,” Bella said. “I think Barbara was too easy on him. He played with people’s minds and was willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Personally, I would have let Chudo-Yudo eat him and be done with it.”

The others chuckled, used to Bella’s feisty temper, which was as fiery as her tumbled mass of curly red hair.

From his place by Barbara’s side, Chudo-Yudo snorted and said, “You tell ’em, sister.” Then gazed up at his companion with as pitiful a look as a two-hundred-pound pit bull can manage and added, “You know, if someone wanted to make it up to me, she could cook me up another s’more. Just sayin’.”

Barbara rolled her eyes, but put another couple of marshmallows on a stick and scooted close enough to hold them over the fire.

“I see what you mean, Beka,” she said, casting one of her rare smiles at the youngest Baba Yaga. “We miss out on a lot of so-called normal life by becoming Baba Yagas, but it’s not as though any of us would chose another life, now, would we?”

Beka shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Besides,” Bella said, her usual cheerful demeanor reasserting itself. “We do have family—we have each other.”

They all raised their glasses in a toast, when suddenly Barbara heard a distant chiming, like church bells on the wind. It grew louder, startling her so much she dropped her stick, marshmallows and all, into the fire, where it went up with a sugary sizzle.

“Hey!” Chudo-Yudo protested indignantly. “My s’more!”

“Did any of you hear that?” Barbara asked. She swiveled her head around slowly, eyes glazing over as she listened for a distant summons.

“Oh-oh,” Bella said, putting her wineglass down with resignation. “The party’s over. I recognize that look.”

“She’s getting The Call, isn’t she?” Beka said. “Barbara, are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Barbara answered distractedly.