Chicks - Did You Say Chicks Part 9

It didn't matter, she decided. The only way to be sure was to go ahead. Va.s.silisa straightened her shoulders and tried to look brave as she stepped onto the path.

The route it led her on was so twisted and roundabout, she almost concluded that it was a trick. But no root tripped her as she walked, no dead branch tore at her clothes or snagged her hair. And while he wood grew darker and darker around her, the path was lit as clearly as if it were midday. Va.s.silisa tried to take comfort in these things, and pressed on.

The path came to an end at a place that was lit as bright as the candles in Father Pyotr's church. But the light did not flicker, not even when a light breeze rustled the branches and blew a twig out of Va.s.silisa's hair.

Va.s.silisa hiked up her skirt and ran toward the light. The trees parted before her, and she stumbled out into a large clearing. The light was so bright now, it dazzled her for a moment, and she stood blinking away tears until she could see again.

In front of her was a waist-high picket fence made entirely of bones. White, gleaming bones, neatly held together with twine. Va.s.silisa gave a little scream, quickly stifled as she realized that the bones were much too large to be human. She couldn't imagine what they might be. Even bears didn't grow this large. The gate was made of smaller bones tied to form a grid. Bird skulls the size of large cabbages were set at even intervals all along the fence. The light came from their eyes.

Past the fence, just as the stories told, stood a hut on chicken legs. The legs were taller than Va.s.silisa, yellow and wrinkled, with claws buried deep in the ground for anchorage. Behind them, she could make out what looked like a vegetable garden, and a small chicken coop.

But for its support, the hut itself looked perfectly ordinary with its wooden walls, thatched roof, and two small windows with brightly painted yellow shutters. Va.s.silisa wondered how Baba Yaga got in and out, with her front door six feet above the ground. Did she fly? And how was Va.s.silisa going to get up there?

"h.e.l.lo?" she called out. "Is anyone home? I am-"

"I know who you are!" The door flew open with a bang. A wooden ladder slid out and hit the ground with a thud. A pair of skinny legs appeared, clad in sagging woolen stockings and shod in woven bast slippers. The legs found purchase on the ladder, and a moment later the rest of Baba Yaga came into view. She was obviously ancient, but she clambered down the ladder with no apparent difficulty. Having reached the bottom, she clapped her hands twice, and the ladder scooted back into the house by itself.

Yaga turned, placed her hands on her hips, and glared at Va.s.silisa across the yard.

"There," she announced. "I've shown myself. Are you happy now?"

She clutched a wooden spoon in one hand, and wore a stained white ap.r.o.n over her dress. Va.s.silisa wondered what she might be cooking, then decided she didn't really want to know.

Va.s.silisa made a respectful bow. "I'm sorry to disturb you, grandmother, but this is important. I need to talk to you."

Yaga sneered, baring uneven yellow teeth. "Talk to me? Aren't you afraid I'll put the evil eye on you?

Make you ugly? Make your cow's milk go dry?"

No, I'm afraid you'll decide that my bones are just the thing to mend that gap on the other side of the fence. Va.s.silisa's mouth felt dry. She told herself that if Yaga wanted to eat her, she would've tried to lure her inside, not scare her away, but the thought didn't provide much comfort. Well, if she couldn't feel brave, at least she could act it.

"I'm already ugly, and I haven't got a cow. May I come into the yard? I hate talking over a fence, it makes feel like I'm gossiping."

"Too bad," Yaga shook her spoon at Va.s.silisa. "You think I let just anybody into my yard? You tell me what you want, and I'll think about it."

"Very well." Va.s.silisa moved to lean on the fence, then remembered what it was made of and hastily straightened up again. "I want you to help me save Voronye from the Tatars. You're a witch, there must be something you can do."

"Must there? I doubt the Tatars will come into the forest to bother me. And what do I care for Voronye? There's nothing there except mud and stink and stupid people who blame me every time a cup breaks or a pot overboils. If I went into your marketplace, people would spit and throw turnips at me. If I went into your church, the priest would drive me out. Why should I help you?"

Va.s.silisa wanted to point out that she would not spit and throw turnips, but she doubted it would make much difference to Yaga. She tried frantically to think of something that would make a difference, but she was too tired to match wits with Baba Yaga the way heroines in stories did. All she could think of was how much she wanted to sit down and take her shoes off.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But there must be something you want, something that would convince you. Tell me what it is, and you can have it." In truth, she couldn't imagine anything she might have that a witch could want, but there had to be something. There justhadto be.

Baba Yaga stared at Va.s.silisa with an amazed expression. After a few moments, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and her head shook. She made a noise like a creaky hinge. It took Va.s.silisa a moment to realize she was laughing.

"Anything I want?" Yaga wheezed between laughs. "What a generous town! And what if I want a mountain of gold, or the palace inKiev , or the moon?" Va.s.silisa sighed. "Then Voronye will die, and you'll get nothing. But I don't believe you want the moon.

Tell me your price, and I'll meet it if I can."

Yaga stopped laughing, but a grin still crinkled her face. "You? Or the town?"

"Me. No one in Voronye knows I'm here. They didn't want to ask you. So whatever bargain you make, it will be with me only."

Yaga stepped closer to peer into Va.s.silisa's face. Up close, she smelled of mushrooms and herbs and freshly cut onions. Va.s.silisa had expected the whiff of human flesh, though of course she had no idea what cooked human flesh smelled like.Maybe it smells like mushrooms, she mused, then quickly pushed the thought away.

Baba Yaga tapped her spoon against the fence absent-mindedly. The wood made a little clicking noise against the bone.

"You're a brave girl," she finally said, "but not very smart."

Va.s.silisa was stung. "That's not what they say in Voronye."

"Oh, really? And what do they say?"

"They say I'm a smart girl, but not very pretty."

"Do they?" Baba Yaga gave another creaky laugh. "Well, they may be right. After all, they've known you longer. Why don't you come in, so I can get to know you too?"

She gestured with the spoon, and the gate swung open of its own accord. Va.s.silisa pretended not to be impressed as she walked through. But once inside the yard, she could no longer restrain her curiosity.

"What kind of bones are those?" She pointed at the fence. "I've never seen any that big."

Yaga patted the fence fondly, as if it were alive. "Chicken bones."

Va.s.silissa didn't know whether to laugh or be scared. "Chickens? They must grow taller than the trees!

What do you feed them, and where can I get some of it?"

Yaga looked highly pleased with herself. "The chickens are ordinary size. It's the bones that are large."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

They walked into the back garden, stepping carefully between the neat rows of turnips and cabbages.

When they reached the chicken coop, Baba Yaga took some seed from her ap.r.o.n pocket, and scattered it on the ground. The chickens promptly scurried out, clucking self-importantly at each other, and began pecking at their dinner.

"See?" Yaga said. "Ordinary chickens. And as long as they live, I can't make them anything else. It's only the dead things that do my bidding." She bent down and plucked a weed that had insinuated itself amongthe carrots. "This is dead," she said, "but it hasn't realized it yet. I'll tell it now." She held the weed close to her face and murmured at it in a voice so soft, Va.s.silisa couldn't make out a single word. As she spoke, the weed began to shudder and writhe in her hand. The leaves curled and the stalk shriveled. Its color changed from green to yellow to brown. By the time Yaga finished speaking, only a withered husk was left. She breathed on it, and it crumpled to dust and blew away.

"I can help you," Yaga said. "But there will be a price."

"Name it."

"Oh, no. It's not for me to name. I will give you a spell to drive away the Tatars. Go home. Use it. And wait. When you know what the price is, come back here."

"How will I know?"

"You'll know." Baba Yaga grabbed Va.s.silisa's arm, and hustled her back toward the hut. "Come along now. The spell will take most of the night. We must prepare."

"We?" Va.s.silisa squeaked. "I don't know how to prepare any spells!"

Yaga only laughed again.

The sun was just rising over the treetops when Va.s.silisa staggered into Voronye, dusty and disheveled, and lugging an extremely heavy and awkwardly shaped sack over one shoulder. She found most of the town's population gathered in the marketplace. Those who owned horses had harnessed them to carts loaded with all their worldly possessions. Those who didn't, carried bundles stuffed with as much as they could lift without toppling over. Va.s.silisa quickly spotted Matrena-her cart was larger than anyone else's, and piled twice as high.

"Vaska! Here you are. I've been looking for you all morning." She poked Va.s.silisa's sack, which rattled in response. "You won't get very far carrying that. My cart is too full, but I'm sure Danillo will find a spot on his, if you ask him nicely."

Va.s.silisa was too tired to deal politely with Matrena's matchmaking. "I'm not going anywhere," she snapped. "And don't call me Vaska. I hate that." She dropped the sack into the dirt with a groan of relief, untied the twine that held it shut, and turned it upside down. A pile of white bones came spilling out into the dirt, followed by a grinning human skull that bounced twice before landing with a thud at Matrena's feet.

Matrena shrieked. Some of the people standing within earshot turned, saw the bones, and also shrieked.

The noise spread like ripples through a lake until Father Pyotr elbowed his way through the crowd to see what the commotion was about. He did not shriek at the sight of the bones, but placed his hands on his hips and glared at Va.s.silisa.

"Where did these come from?" he demanded.

"I should think that would be obvious," Va.s.silisa said.

Father Pyotr simply glowered in response. Once, that glower would have sent Va.s.silisa meekly to herknees in apology, but after spending an evening with Baba Yaga, she was not so easily intimidated.

Still, she supposed she'd have to tell them sooner or later. "Baba Yaga gave them to me," she said.

There was a collective gasp, and everyone except Father Pyotr fell back a step. The priest stood his ground, though he did cross himself somewhat more emphatically than usual.

"Are you insane?" he hissed. "You think we don't have enough trouble, without you bringing unclean magic among us? You'll bring bad luck to the journey, we'll be lost-"

"We don't have to go anywhere," Va.s.silisa interrupted. "Yaga's put a spell on these bones to drive away the Tatars. We'll be safe now."

"Safe!" Father Pyotr's voice rose so much that he started to sound like Matrena. It was all Va.s.silisa could do to keep from snickering. "And who will keep us safe from Yaga, when she comes to demand her price? When she wants our blood for her potions, or our bones for her next spell?"

"She won't. I came to her alone, so I pay alone. She swore on it."

"And you believed her?" Father Pyotr grabbed Va.s.silisa by the shoulders, and gave her a vigorous shake. "What's wrong with you, girl? Are you bewitched, or just stupid? An oath means nothing to a witch, she'll-"

"They're coming!" someone screamed. Va.s.silisa turned, and saw a rising cloud of dust in the distance on the other side of the wheat fields.

"That's impossible." Father Pyotr let go of Va.s.silisa's shoulders and took a shaky step back.

"They-they weren't supposed to get here for another two days."

Va.s.silisa rolled her eyes. "Why don't you go tell them that?" she suggested. "I'm sure if you explain politely that they are ahead of schedule, they'll go away and come back on Sunday."

No one responded to this. People were too busy grabbing their bundles and running, or jumping on their carts and riding, or rushing about in circles and screaming that they were going to die. Va.s.silisa put her hands over her ears to help shut out the noise, stood over the bone pile, and recited the spell Yaga had taught her the night before.

As she spoke the last word, the bones began to move. At first, they crawled along the ground, spreading themselves in a circle around Va.s.silisa's feet. Then they floated into the air, spinning as they rose. A few seconds later, Va.s.silisa stood at the center of a rattling whirlwind of bones.

The ground beneath her feet trembled slightly. She couldn't tell if it was a side effect of the spell, or just the sign of a Tatar army approaching at full gallop. All she could see was a blurred wall of white. And dust. The carts, the ground, and the marketplace stalls were all covered with generous portions of dust, and the bones kicked up all of it. Va.s.silisa sneezed.Maybe I should've done this in a cleaner place. Like the church. Father Pyotr would love that...

Something detached itself from the whirlwind. It looked like several human ribcages fused together into a solid ma.s.s. It struck Va.s.silisa's chest and stayed there, forming a breastplate. Other bones, equally misshapen or restructured, attached themselves to her sides, her shoulders, her back. She barely had time to gather her skirt up around her hips before the bones surrounded her legs. She lifted her arms, and bony sleeves encased them. As a finishing touch, the skull grew as big as a bucket, and landed on herhead with one final clunk.

The whirlwind ceased. In its place was an armor made of bones. A heavy, stuffy, and extremely uncomfortable armor, with some of the dust still trapped inside it. Va.s.silisa sneezed again, banging her head against the back of the helmet, and looked around. She couldn't see very well through the eye holes, but it seemed to her that about half the town's population had fled the square. The rest were watching her from a distance, muttering softly among themselves. Father Pyotr was still there, clutching the crucifix around his neck and praying under his breath.

"It's all right," Va.s.silisa told them. Her voice echoed hollowly inside the skull helmet. The ground was shaking harder now-the riders must be getting closer. Unfortunately, she could not turn her head inside the helmet to look at them.So what do I do now? she thought.

Then the armor began to walk.

Va.s.silisa yelped and flailed her arms. Or rather, she tried to flail them, but could only rattle them about inside the sleeves. The armor moved with a will of its own, and all Va.s.silisa could do was ride along.

It turned to the right, then walked her out into the middle of the field and stopped. Now she could see the approaching riders-the small, dirt-spattered horses, and the wiry leather-clad men. There weren't as many of them as Va.s.silisa expected, but there were certainly more than enough to trample Voronye into the ground. They came closer and closer, but once again the armor would not move.

Sweat poured down Va.s.silisa's face. She started to panic. The entire army was going to ride right over her without breaking stride while she stood there trapped in a pile of bones.Why did it form around me if I can't control it? What kind of magic is this, anyhow?

Then the first line of horses came to a dead stop. Va.s.silisa could hear shouting, and clanging, and stomping hooves, as the riders in the back tried to avoid collision. Some failed, and the horses went down screaming, taking their riders with them. Va.s.silisa mentally braced herself.Surely the armor will move now.

It didn't.

Maybe now it will letmemove it. She tried to take a step forward, and succeeded only in banging her knee.And maybe not.

The Tatars regrouped much faster than Va.s.silisa expected, but nothing they could do would make their horses move any closer.

Finally, Va.s.silisa realized what was happening. The armor didn't need to move as long as the riders stayed mounted-the horses knew death magic when they smelled it, even if their riders didn't. They trembled, they whinnied, they pawed the ground, but they wouldn't move an inch. One of the riders fired an arrow, which struck the armor in the chest. Va.s.silisa felt no impact, but heard the crack of broken wood as the arrow snapped in two and fell to the ground. More arrows came, with similar results.

The armor, apparently realizing that it now had to deal with humans, chose this moment to take a step forward and raise its arms-which almost yanked Va.s.silisa's arms out of their sockets. The armor clawed at the air like an angry bear.

Deciding to partic.i.p.ate in the only way left her, Va.s.silisa shouted, "Boo!" It came out sounding like thehowl of a demon.

That finally did it. The horses broke and ran, and the riders made only a token effort to stop them.

Within minutes, only a trampled wheat field remained to show that an army had ever come anywhere near Voronye.

When the Tatars were out of sight, the bone armor fell from around Va.s.silisa, hit the ground with a dull thud, then crumbled to dust.

It wasn't until the next morning that Va.s.silisa realized that something was wrong. The previous day was filled with activity as the people of Voronye returned to their homes, unpacked their belongings, and gathered in their back yards to gossip about what had happened. Va.s.silisa herself had been too tired to do anything more than stagger to her own house, collapse on the bed, and sleep. But early next morning, as she went out to feed the chickens, she called her usual greeting to Matrena, and Matrena crossed herself and backed away.

It got worse from there. She went to market, and the women spat and threw turnips at her. She tried to go to church, and Father Pyotr wouldn't let her in. Children pointed at her and screamed "witch" until their mothers dragged them away.

After two days of this hara.s.sment, Va.s.silisa realized she could not live like this. Leaving aside any other considerations, she really hated turnips.

Well, she thought,at least now I know what price to name to Baba Yaga.

On her second trip into the forest, this time carrying her few belongings and her cat, Va.s.silisa spotted the path immediately. The forest seemed less tangled, less dark, almost welcoming. Baba Yaga waited for her outside the hut, looking much the same as she had before, except her ap.r.o.n was cleaner. She still smelled of mushrooms and onions, as well as a spice Va.s.silisa couldn't identify.

Without preamble, Va.s.silisa said, "You knew this would happen, didn't you? You could've told me."

"Would you have listened?" Yaga replied.