Night Witch

Chapter 30

There was nothing in her. If she couldn't feel, what was she? She had lived her entire life on suppressed rage and sadness. Was she so empty now? Had this rope she had been holding onto finally run out?

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe she was too much of an idiot to ever get it right. She should just keep doing what she did best. Sweep the floors, dust the shelves, clean up everyone's messes, Karina. Do what you're good at, Karina. Stay out of the way, Karina.

It wasn't like she felt anything for not feeling anything. It wasn't like she could figure this out. She would get through that box, then

She opened the box and gasped.

Dolls. Dolls, like Lilith, like her best friend, like her. Stacked upon each other and heaped together--lumps of cloth with button eyes that gleamed in the skull's light.

She slammed the box shut and stepped away, breathing hard. They all belonged or they all didn't--it was all or nothing, wasn't it?
It didn't take too long to make a decision. They were all staying. Best friends stayed. People like Karina stayed. They stayed, or they were killed.

The door slammed open. "You're not finished, girl. You never will be until you feel something for anything."

Karina looked at her boots. "Understood."

"Why aren't you questioning me?" Baba Yaga jerked the girl's chin up. "Question me. If you can't use your Night, you better use your Light. But you gotta use the Night, girl, and the Night in you doesn't trust the Night in me."

"What--what do you mean?"

Baba Yaga drew a thin, leather bound book out of her robes. "Read this."

Karina nodded. Best to obey the deadly yaga, the thing she was and wasn't.

She took the book. It felt smooth against her calloused fingers. "How long do you want me to read it in? How much time should I take?"

Baba Yaga sighed, glared at Karina, and left in a sweep of her dark dress.

Karina sat down on the cold floor and opened the book. Its spine made a cracking noise as she opened it, like the snapping of a bone.

The parchment was yellowed, and the words on it looked like art, each letter some drawing that couldn't be translated into the Moracian she knew so well.

She coughed and started to flip through the pages. Every single page was the same. Words she couldn't know, sentences she couldn't read, things she couldn't understand--

She slammed the book shut, waited a moment or so, and opened it again, as if she had hoped that the words would change and that the first time she had only been dreaming.

But nothing happened.

Karina was stuck.

She didn't necessarily want to suffer in the cold basement, but another screaming session with Baba Yaga might be more than she could take. The woman was more confusing than Nyx and Hans combined, and had far more of a temper than either of the two.

Hans. Hans, that blue-eyed boy she'd been foolish enough to think she'd ever known. Forget him, Karina. The murderer. Follow Baba Yaga's instructions. Get your job done.

Become the yaga you need to be.

Her gut pulled her to the door, away from the quiet safety of the floor. Closing the book with a gentle thud, she got up and walked to the door, her footsteps as quiet as a ghost's.

The stairs weren't as scary as they were the first time, but still, Karina hurried up them as quickly as she could, stumbling over each step.

The hallway was brighter, though not much, and she hurried through it, too, to get into Baba Yaga's sitting room.

Baba Yaga was sitting in a chair by the crackling fire, staring into the flames. Karina stood by her, but the old woman's gaze never left the fire.

"What do you want," Baba Yaga snapped. A minute passed. Karina rubbed her fingers together. "Well, girl? Are you done reading that book?"

"I..." Karina stared at her too-small boots. "I..."

"Bravery isn't conditional." Karina looked up, her eyebrows raised, as Baba Yaga continued. "Vasilisa, stand up to me. Ask your questions. I don't bite usually--" And here the woman smiled, all sharp and crooked teeth. "And if I do, it's important that you have the stomach to get through the pain."

Karina stared at her hands, hanging limp at her sides. "I...I don't want to be reckless."

"And you won't be. That's not who you are, girl. But if you got backbone, you can't just prove it when you need to or when you got a safety net. You always gotta prove it." Baba Yaga leaned back in her chair. "Now what in Nyx's bloody name do you want?"

"I can't read this."

"What do you mean?"

Karina shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I mean that I can't read this book. It's in a weird language."

"It's not weird. It's a language you don't know, and you not knowing it doesn't make it weird, girl." Baba Yaga smiled again, only this time it looked more like a grimace. There was no joy in the woman's eyes.

"Then teach me."

"Vasilisa?"

"I--yes?"

"Why?"

"Why--what?

"Why do you want me to teach you? You don't even want to be here."

Karina blinked, dazed. "Nyx wanted me to. The murderer didn't want me to. Something in my head...." She touched her hair. "I want to learn."

Baba Yaga stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Come with me."

Hi, everyone, and happy Thanksgiving to all my American followers! Sorry for not updating in forever (my finish by the end of 2016 goal seems a bit far fetched by now, but we'll see). So, what are your thoughts on this chapter? On Baba Yaga? Please tell me in a comment, and if you enjoyed don't forget to vote!

Have a nice day!