Anya's haphazard family ate lunch late that Saturday, the inn beyond the world bustling in preparation for Dmitri's annual noblemen council. Leshys of all types, stout and slender, with ram's horns and boar tusks, bear teeth and wolf skins, laughed heartily over vodka and a roaring fire. Their attendants talked rowdily. The harvest was drawing close, and it was a time for celebration.
Anya's nerves were on edge: her shopping excursion with Morozko was in an hour. It could either go uneventfully or horribly, terribly wrong. She hoped for the former but anticipated the latter.
Morozko gave her a hard look across the oak-hewn dining room table but said nothing. The others finished eating, the table cleared, and it was just the two of them left. Morozko picked at the remnants of his fish while Anya slowly sipped her water.
She cleared her throat: “So. Ahem. Well… I guess we can go n
She rose from the bed, pulling Morozko hastily after her.Morozko looked at her skeptically. “Have you not any care for caution? For consequences? There are monsters out there, cherti familiars and vucari and nechist waiting to devour you. Do not romanticize travel. It is a dangerous undertaking – getting lost, having your horse broken, your money stolen – everything about it, why, it is treacherous.” Morozko changed out of his kaftan into red jeans and a white cashmere sweater with embroidery of horse-backed Perun and Veles, flanking Mother Mokosh. He turned from Anya to give them privacy.Anya laced her combat boots over her leggings. “Oh please. You said you had a restless heart. Well, your fern flower juice infected me with wanderlust.” Anya zipped her leather jacket. “If you are really so worried, you can be my sidekick. I will promote you to sec
He cursed the day he was born in the snowy wastes of Ded Moroz’s kingdom, quite uncomfortable, and appraised her.Morozko wanted to tell her that the dress made her look deadly. She was a witch, he realized, enchanting and terribly beautiful, so far from the girl he knew. He had the strangest attraction and repulsion at the exact same time and felt quite ill, like a vicious hangover from a night spent flirting at a bar.Morozko was, in a word, lost.“Well, Kolya?” Anya looked at her feet, embarrassed.“This boy will lose his heart to you,” Morozko finally said. “And you will swallow him whole.”Anya laughed uneasily. “I will take that as a compliment, I suppose.” She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled hesitantly. “I think I am quite in love with this beautiful dress – I have never owned anything so fine, save my firebird necklace,&rdq
Anya's birthday dawned with much celebration, the entire kingdom coming out into the streets. Dmitri threw a festival in her honor, replete with the finest caviar and buttery champagne and parades through the streets. The only one who seemed to not enjoy it was Morozko, who insisted he was sick and skipped out on the festivities. Anya was quite irritated that her guardian had skipped out on the grand festivities.Their family gathered that morning in the rose garden outside the ramshackle library’s bay window to bless Anya. They passed around a horn of vodka and poured it onto the ground, praising the gods one by one and asking for their gifts to be bestowed upon Dmitri’s precious Anya. The carved hollow ram horn came to Anya at last.She looked to the rising sun, held the horn high, and said a prayer.“Mother Mokosh, Father Perun, Uncle Veles, let my dreams know fruition. Let my wanderings be true. Let
Anya's alarm sounded bright and early. She awoke, groggy, and yawned, wiping away the sleep-sand that had accumulated in her eyes.“Wha?” she said, feeling a body against her. She looked down to see Morozko asleep beside her, his arms wrapped round her waist. “Huh? What in thrice nine kingdoms?”Morozko stirred. “Go back to sleep.” He grunted.“Why are you in my bed?”Morozko looked at her with cut-glass eyes. “Don’t you remember last night?” he said.“Of course I do. We argued over the dance and... oh. Right.” Anya blushed. “You kissed me?”“Absolutely.” Morozko grinned like the Devil. “And I will do it again, to remind you that you liked it.”“No! Do not even lay a finger on me. Kolya, please, just give me a min
Morozko nodded. “So you are paying the First Throne a visit, eh?” Baba Yaga clucked. She took a jar of poison dart frog legs swirling in preservative and plopped them into her stew. The hag sampled the concoction and smiled in approval. “That is the idea, yes.” Morozko helped himself to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of vodka. He popped the cork off with his fangs and poured himself a glass. “Can we go to Sparrow Hills?” Anya referenced the steep hill above the Moskava River immortalized by so many Russian poets. “Of course, mooncalf.” Morozko tossed back a shot. The vodka warmed his belly as the liquid found its way to the furnace of his stomach. “Well then, get a move on.” Baba Yaga chuckled, making a dismissive gesture. “Do not keep my witch daughter waiting, soap brains.” She ushered them out onto the porch. “Little hut, little hut, turn your back to Buyan and your f
“You must summon a cherti to defend yourself. These are dangerous times.” Baba Yaga finished chalking a summoning circle onto the floor of her hut. “They are tricksy creatures. Worse than the Devil himself. Your will must be iron. It is much like fishing: you cast your will out into Hell like a lure, and the cherti are drawn to your witch fire. Then you reel your will in and catch them in your own skin as a net. Can you do that, little bird?”Anya nodded. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the pentagram Baba Yaga had chalked on the floor, her hair fishtail-braided over one shoulder. “I think so, babushka.”Baba Yaga lit four tapers for the four directions and set them at the corners of the summoning circle. She handed Anya a bundle of raskovnik plants, rare greens shaped like four leaf clovers - the keys to unlocking the spiritual world. “Now, calm your
“I absolutely will not tolerate Chort’s hairball in my banya.” Morozko uttered a string of curses, peeling his shirt off as he changed into pajama pants. Anya sat on her bed, petting Aym, her eyebrows raised.“He is my familiar, and his name is Aym,” Anya said. “And it is not just your banya, I live here too. And now, so does Aym. Is that right, little beast?” Anya scritched Aym’s pert ears.Aym purred with laughter. “Bannik, surely there is room in your dive for a dapper cat like me?”Morozko narrowed his eyes. “The schmoozing cat sleeps outside the door. I will not have a cherti spying on us in our sleep, waiting to eat you,” he said through gritted teeth.Aym grinned. “Let's put my bruised past behind us, eh? I'm now the faithful servant of my witch mistress. And I'm sure we can agree that her so
“Who is there?” Anya called. Her voice echoed in the wind.The music stopped. “A wanderer,” came a voice like a waterfall.Anya squared her shoulders. “That is not a name.”“You may call me Kosti,” he replied. “I see that you are armed. What a pity. Fair things like you should not live in fear.”“I am not afraid.”“That, my girl, is a lie. My music tends to stir up… rather unsettling emotions. But I beg you relax. You are safe.”“Am I?” Anya said. “The anglerfish's lure gives comfort before its bite.”Kosti laughed. He stepped from the pine's shadow. “I am far from a fish.”Anya caught sight of him in the morning light. He was slender and tall, dressed in furs and a white kaftan, a violin at hand. His skin was pale and h