Wickedly Magical (7 page)

“I’m not sure what you could come up with that I haven’t been able to think of,” Barbara said. “But I’m open to any suggestions.” She narrowed her amber eyes at Bella’s sparkling gray ones suspiciously. “You’ve got something, don’t you? Come on—spill it.”

Bella laughed. It was rare that she could come up with an answer when the older Baba couldn’t; especially since this one actually touched on the other Baba Yaga’s specialty.

“I think so,” she said, dimples flashing. “But we’ll have to go back into the Otherworld to see if I’m right. The plant I’ve got in mind doesn’t grow here on this side.”

Barbara shook her head in amazement. “A plant? I’m the damned botanist. What kind of plant would you know of that I wouldn’t?”

“One that grows in the forests,” Bella said, slipping her feet into low, soft boots and grabbing a light jacket. “I spend a lot more time there than you do, on both sides of the doorways.”

She ruffled her hand through Kashka’s dense fur, eliciting a deep, rumbling purr. “This shouldn’t take long. Can I bring you back anything?” One green eye opened and closed without comment.

“I guess that’s a no,” Barbara said, rolling her eyes. “Come on then, sister mine. Show me this miracle plant that is going to solve all my problems.”

“Ha,” Bella said. “If we’re lucky, it will solve one of them. For the rest, you’re on your own.”

***

Barbara was in a much better mood when she stepped back through the wardrobe door, ignoring a tiny winged something that buzzed noisily around her head before disappearing back into the swirling gray mist.

“You’re whistling,” Chudo-Yudo observed. “You must be feeling better.” He pointed his muzzle at the purple tentacle currently slithering wetly across the threshold. “Bringing home a friend?”

Barbara scowled into the fog, and used the tip of her sword to nudge the tentacle, none too gently. “Really?” she called out. “You
really
thought that was a good idea?”

The tentacle withdrew promptly, leaving a trail of slime behind. Barbara shut the door securely and snapped her fingers to clean up the mess. She loved being in the Otherworld, but some parts of it were definitely less attractive than others. It wasn’t all beautiful pointy-eared fairy maidens, that’s for sure.

“I take it from the improvement in your attitude that you managed to find Koshei for a little fun and games?” Chudo-Yudo said snidely.

“Actually, he wasn’t around,” Barbara said, ignoring his innuendo from long practice. “But I got one of the Queen’s courtiers to spar with me for a bit, which was almost as good.” She fingered a small tear across the front of her tee shirt. “Man, those guys are fast.”

She reopened the wardrobe to put the sword away, then started walking around the Airstream collecting the various garments she’d tossed around before she left, making a little face as she did so.

“Cleaning up?” Chudo-Yudo inquired. “Or getting ready to burn them?”

“Neither,” she said. “I’m going to need to wear them again.”

“Aha!” Chudo-Yudo said. “You weren’t just playing around over there. You found something helpful on the other side.”

Barbara pulled a small handful of white flowers out of her pants pocket. They didn’t look particularly impressive, with their white petals, pale yellow centers, and ragged greenish-blue edges. They didn’t even have any thorns. “Ta-da!”

Chudo-Yudo sniffed at them dubiously. “Ta-da? Are you sure? They don’t even have a scent.”

“They don’t need to,” Barbara said. Her eyes sparkled. “Don’t you know what these are?”

“I’m a dragon, not a botanist,” he said with a woof of indignation.

“Right.” Barbara stifled a grin. Chudo-Yudo, like most other immortals, hated it when someone younger than him knew something he didn’t. “Sorry. I’m not surprised you’re not familiar with them; they’re pretty rare, and they only grow in the Otherworld. They’re called Mage’s Bane. They’re the only flower ever discovered that cancels out magical spells.”

“Cool!” Chudo-Yudo said, then thought about it a little more and backed away rapidly. “Wait a minute—aren’t you worried they’re going to undo the magic holding the Airstream in its current form or me in mine?”

She laughed. “Don’t panic. They don’t work on natural magic, like the kind you and I use. A Baba Yaga’s magic is innate—she can be trained to use it, but it has to be something she’s born with, which is how we’re chosen for the job in the first place. And all the magic a Baba works, including creating an enchanted hut and then transforming it into an equally enchanted trailer, is backed by her own innate power. The same with dragons. Mage’s Bane doesn’t have any effect on that kind of magic.”

“Then what good is it?” Chudo-Yudo asked, sounding indignant as he tried to pretend he hadn’t been concerned.

“It’s called Mage’s Bane because it works against the kind of magic that magicians, mages, and wizards use. They all channel power from outside themselves into spells or charms. Many of them spend their whole lives studying, and they can become very powerful, but their magic comes from outside themselves, not inside. Mage’s Bane unravels those kinds of spells, rendering them useless and negating their effects instantly, hence the name.”

“And you think that Jonathan Bellingwood’s necklace was created by Selkie or Mer mages, and therefore the flowers will make it stop working,” Chudo-Yudo said, teeth gleaming whitely in a huge doggy grin. “Excellent.”

“I’m guessing Mr. Bellingwood won’t think so,” Barbara said with an answering smirk, twirling the innocuous-looking flowers around in her strong fingers. “Especially since the flowers have to be activated by some of the magic-user’s blood.”

“Nice.” Chudo-Yudo cocked his head to the side, gazing at her quizzically. “If these things are so rare, how did you know where to find them?” he asked. The Otherworld had a tendency to move around constantly, changing on a whim. Only the Queen’s palace and the surrounding grounds could be depended on to stay the same, kept in place by the force of her formidable will and her right as longtime ruler, along with her consort the King.

“I didn’t,” Barbara said confessed. “The Otherworld led me to Bella, and she led me to the flowers. Truth is, I’d never come across them before today.” She shrugged, her expression somewhere between relieved and smug. “You know how the Otherworld is. Sometimes it decides to help, sometimes it kicks you in the teeth. I just got lucky.”

Chudo-Yudo shook his head. “I think the Otherworld is partial to the Baba Yagas. That wasn’t luck—it was years of sucking up by your predecessors, mixed with a healthy dose of cranky intimidation.”

“Well, whatever it was, I have what I need, and that’s good enough for me.”

She’d changed back into her old-lady clothes while they were talking, fastening the slightly wilting bunch of flowers to the front of the tailored jacket with a stickpin tipped with glittering diamonds that she’d borrowed from one of the ladies in the Queen’s court. Gemstones were abundant there, and their only value came from their shining beauty. The court ladies were very partial to shiny.

“I have to go find a pay phone and call Ivan. Then I think I’ll see if I can wrangle an invitation to supper at the ranch. I suspect what I have in mind will be the most effective if everyone is gathered in the same room.” Barbara gave Chudo-Yudo a predatory smile. “Don’t wait up. I’m not sure how long this will take.”

The door shut behind her and Chudo-Yudo settled onto Barbara’s favorite chair with a smirk, and said to the little lizard in the rug, “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

***

When Hugo ushered Barbara into the large dining room at the ranch, Jonathan Bellingwood stood up to greet her with a pleased smile on his face. There was an empty seat on his right, clearly saved for her, and the lovely Grace sat on his left. There were about twenty-five other adults around the table, mostly beautiful young women, but also a few couples, including an older pair seated together at the other end of the long rectangular farm-style wooden expanse. A smaller replica at the edge of the room held about ten children, including Elena and Katya.

An ornate chandelier hung over the table, clearly a new addition, since it didn’t match the simple rustic design of most of the rest of the room, and an expensive hand-woven Turkish rug covered the worn floorboards. Even on this warm summer evening a small fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, giving the scene a warm glow.

Barbara almost felt bad about the fact that she was about to ruin it all. Almost.

In her guise as the old lady again, she made her stately way down to where her host awaited her, holding out her chair politely.

“I am so pleased that you decided to join us for our evening meal, Miss Volkova,” he said. “There is no better time to see us all together, that big happy family I promised you.”

“Indeed,” Barbara said, pitching her voice thinner and higher than usual. “I was hoping to see everyone gathered together.” She sat up primly as Jonathan introduced her to his household. In the background, a couple of women carried in serving dishes heaped with food before taking their own seats.

Once they’d all started eating, Jonathan poured her a glass of red wine and gave her his best charming salesman’s smile. “Dare I hope that this return visit means you are considering joining us on a more permanent basis?” he asked. “I’m sure you would be very happy here.”

Barbara made a noncommittal noise and shifted so that the light from the chandelier hit the gems on the stickpin she wore and made them glitter even more brightly. As she’d expected, this caused an answering gleam in Jonathan’s eyes.

“My goodness,” he said, pupils widening. “What a lovely pin. Are those real diamonds?”

“Oh yes,” Barbara said in her quavery voice. “My father gave the piece to my mother on their twentieth anniversary. Would you like a closer look at it?” She pulled it out of the jacket and handed it to him, holding on to the little bunch of flowers.

“How pretty!” Grace said, leaning in to see. She gazed at it greedily, hanging on to Jonathan’s arm. “If you do come to live with us, Miss Volkova, maybe you’ll let me borrow it sometime.”

Barbara gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps. But you must be careful. It is quite sharp.”

With this, she plucked it out of Jonathan’s fingers and plunged it into the fleshy part of his thumb, thus proving her point and distracting him long enough that she could reach over and pull the medallion out from underneath his shirt. Holding the flowers in her other hand, she ground them firmly into the center of the necklace until they disintegrated into a shower of tattered petals and dusty pollen. Then she pulled the pin out again, leaving a bright bubble of crimson blood welling up to drip on the once-pristine tablecloth.

“Oops,” she said blithely. “Sorry about that.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jonathan yelled at her, clutching the medallion tightly in his wounded hand. “Are you crazy?” He’d clearly decided that no amount of money was worth being attacked by a crazy woman at his own table. “Hugo, get her out of here!”

Hugo started to rise, but Barbara just gazed at him. “Really, Hugo? What are you going to do? Hit an old lady?”

Looking confused, Hugo sat back down again.

Jonathan sputtered at him. “Hugo! Get up! Do what I tell you!” He tucked the medallion back inside his shirt, ignoring the blood dripping off his hand, and pressed it hard against his skin. “Hugo, you know you want this woman to leave. Make her leave!”

Barbara chuckled. “I’m afraid your little toy won’t work anymore, Mr. Bellingwood. Or should I call you Mr. Bell?” Around the room, people were exchanging bewildered glances, as if suddenly waking to find themselves in an unexpected place.

She raised her voice, so everyone could hear her. “I’m sorry to say that you have all been the victims of trickery.” With one deceptively frail-looking hand, she reached out and yanked the necklace out of Jonathan’s grip, breaking the chain in the process, and leaving a red welt to add to his other wound. She held the medallion up to show them. “This little trinket had the ability to influence your minds, making you do whatever this man wanted you to do, including giving him most of your money, apparently.”

A murmur of whispered discussion flowed around the table like a sea serpent, a mixture of confusion, anger, and sorrow.

“You are now free to make your own choices,” Barbara continued, ignoring the babble. “Stay if you want, or go. But this time it will be of your own free will.”

One attractive woman midway down the table sighed and shrugged her shoulders in resignation. “Hell, men have been lying to me all my life. At least here the food is good, and no one is slapping me around. I’m staying.” A couple of others seemed to agree, but most of the group didn’t take the news quite so well.

The older couple from the end of the table stared at Jonathan with horror and disgust, the man furious and the woman in tears. They stopped in front of him long enough for the man to say, “I can’t believe I let you talk us into signing this ranch over to you. You’ll be hearing from our lawyer.” He put his arm around his weeping wife and they walked away with their shoulders bowed.

A curvy brunette with bright blue eyes shoved her chair away from the table so hard it fell over, marched up to Jonathan, and slapped his face with enough force to leave her handprint glowing for a moment in the midst of his artificially tanned cheek. “You son of a bitch. I can’t believe I left my husband for you. Yes, he’s kind of boring, but at least he’s a good man, and never lied to me. I hope like hell he’ll take me back after the way I treated him.” She walked away without a backward glance, only stopping long enough to grab a gangly ten-year-old boy from the kids’ table before sweeping out the door.

One by one, most of the people in the room left, with or without comment. Finally, the only ones left were Jonathan, Grace, Barbara, and a few others who sat there looking stunned.

Barbara picked up the stickpin, wiped it off on the tablecloth, and stuck it carefully back through her lapel. The medallion she put in her pocket, even though it no longer posed a danger. Better safe than sorry. Besides, the Queen would no doubt want to trace it back to its origins, so she could express her displeasure personally to its owner for being so careless as to allow it to fall into Human hands.