Babayaga

She looked down at the girl. Noelle was a little young, much younger than Zoya had been when she had made the change, but that was fine. A lot of snares could be set with this kind of bait. The girl would learn or die. It was too late to go back; if the girl did not want to take the lessons, or if it turned out she had no aptitude for it, Elga would put her down. But her intuition told her this one had skills. They could hole up and work on simple lessons while the rat tracked down Zoya. Elga would start by showing her small tricks, how to pack whispers in hats, whistle for snakes, catch an idle eye, raise a fevered boil. Elga felt this little one would be easier to control, no adventuring off on her own, no appetite for trouble. How many scrapes and scandals had she pulled Zoya out of? Too many to count. That girl was too softhearted and too clumsy in her affections, always falling for lousy men like stupid Max.

She remembered the morning that Zoya had shown up back at the campsite with the rat. It was still before dawn and her dress was torn, her skin was scratched, her hair undone. She had crawled into the bed of their caravan wagon and collapsed, sick, doubling over with dry heaves and in a cold, clammy sweat until finally she had rested and was calm enough to pull a terrified Max out from her pocket.

As always, Zoya had a good story. Earlier the past evening, bored with all the haggling and hissing between the women, she had left their campsite and headed into the nearby town. She had longed for dancing and music and the reassurance of friendly eyes, no more than that, she said. She had met a boy there, a young priest broken fresh from seminary, drunk off berry wine and flush from his first lucky run at the tables, who now wanted to taste his first woman. Zoya was willing to oblige, she was intrigued at the idea of playing naughty with a priest, especially a young one, and she also had an eye for the rubles loose in his pockets.

The trouble started moments after they finally found a room and shut the door. The drunken boy had pulled her close and began kissing her roughly. She had laughed and tried to slow him down a bit, but instead he had pushed her hard against the wall and started tearing at her clothes, ripping the fabric. The force of his body kept knocking her head against the wall, and she tried to pull away but he would not let go. He had a funny look dancing in his eyes, one that she recognized all too well. Deciding that she had made a mistake, she had kicked him hard in the balls and lunged for the door, but he had reached out and grabbed her, pushing her against the wall and banging her head again. “You are a real handful, aren’t you? Some kind of devil’s woman?” he had said. She was dazed. He threw her down on the floor. She began crawling again toward the door, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the foot of the bed. He tried slipping off his belt, but drunk as he was he could barely manage it. Sitting up, he fumbled around, clumsily attempting to unbutton his trousers, muttering, “My wise elders showed me where to stick it in troublemakers. Now I’ll show you.” Zoya went for the door again, but this time he grabbed her by the neck and pulled her back. “I will make it hard to run,” he had said, pressing her to the floor and lying down on top of her. He reached under and squeezed at her breasts roughly with one hand while pulling down his pants with the other. “Yes, now you are going to have a hard time running,” he said. She squirmed and struggled and screamed out for help but he slapped her harder and then she stayed silent. She knew nobody would come. Her head cleared enough so that she could recall what to do. She had been taken against her will before, but that was a different time. She had been weak then.

Turning and taking his head in her hands, as if she was finally succumbing, she put bloodstained kisses up his cheek and whispered the spell into his ear. He paused in his fumbling action and scratched at his nose as if he had a twitch. Then it began. She rolled free to the side of the room, and watched with relief and exhaustion as his flesh started its snapping and shrinking down.