Orson Card - Enchantment

A bear? Ivan's bear from the chasm?

She turned to see the hulking animal shamble into the room on all fours. Seeing her, it rose to its feet, a huge beast that had to be at least twice the height of even as tall a man as Ivan.

So here she was, having accomplished nothing, already caught.

But the bear did not roar or threaten her, unless simply standing there was something of a threat.

"My wife is not at home," the bear said.

Said! In human speech! She had heard old tales, of course, but had never heard real language from an animal before.

"You'll have to come again later if you wish to kill her," he said. "You are here to kill her, aren't you? You didn't come all this way just to rattle these people's chains."

This was not at all the tone that she expected from Baba Yaga's husband.

"Speechless?" said Bear. "I understand. The sight of me can take a woman's breath away. Baba Yaga fell quite in love with me the first time we met. I was here to kill her; she thought I had come because she called me. I found, too late, that here was one human who knew spells that could bind even me, who had never been bound. So if you happen to fall in love with me as well, be sure to unbind me from Baba Yaga before you expect me to run away with you."

"I don't love you," Katerina said.

"Ah, she talks after all. I'm a bear, and I was talking more than you!"

"I'm not here for you. I'm here to free these people."

"Now, that's too bad. She's got them rather permanently fastened here. I expect she plans to keep them on display for years and years, until she sweeps away the bones and brings in a new set."

"She loves death so much?"

"It's not death she loves, my dear. It's victory. Power over the vanquished. She can get an amazing amount of gloating time out of each of these poor corpses."

"They aren't corpses yet," said Katerina.

"Well, they will be soon enough. She tried to get me to kill them for her, offered them to me for sport, but I don't kill for sport. Well, usually not."

"You're missing one eye."

He growled, turning the blind eye away from her. "Thanks for reminding me."

"You hate her, don't you?"

"I'm sure I would, if I were at liberty to do so. But you see how it is—I'm ecstatic with devotion for my beloved hag. No husband was ever more faithful. I only have eyes—or rather, eye —for her."

"How can I stop her? How can I undo her magic? How can I break her power and make my people safe from her?"

"If I knew, don't you think I would have slipped a hint to someone long before now? No, you're on your own. Fortunately, though, I won't be here to watch."

"Why not?"

"Because at this moment, my dear girl-wife has got an enemy of mine pent up in her house-that-flies. She promised me that I could kill him, and I rather think I will, since he cost me this eye."

"Ivan," she whispered.

"The very one. He kissed you once, I think. That was you, wasn't it? Did that develop into anything? A relationship?"

"You know it did."

"Oh, yes, I remember now, my crone mentioned it to me. She was entertained by it all. Young love. Anyway, she wants me to go there and kill your husband as repayment for this eye. And she wants to get back here to deal with you—because of course she knew you were here the moment you arrived. I, for one, planned to sleep through the whole business, but she made me get up to come and deal with you. In fact, she was quite specific, she wanted me in the room with you."

"Why?"

"I rather imagine it's because the fastest way to get me to your husband and get Baba Yaga here to you is for her to do that little trick she does where the two of us change places. It's almost instantaneous. For a moment or two, there's nothing. And then, there where Baba Yaga was standing, there'll be me. And where I was standing, there she is."

"So she'll be here, and you'll be there."

"What a bright girl you are."

"How can I prevent that?"

"You can't."

"Then why are you telling me this? What can I do about it?"

"I think it should be plain by now that I can't tell you anything directly. Nothing but what she wants me to say. Well, maybe I slip in a little more information than she wanted. But it's entirely up to you what you do with it. I'd do it quickly, though, if I were you."

What was she supposed to do? Run? There was no escape from this place, and that wasn't what she came for, anyway. Nor could she hide, not from Baba Yaga.

She looked at Bear, who was now standing in the middle of the room, motionless. In one place. Very still.

And then she understood. Bear and Baba Yaga would change places exactly. Where he was standing, she would be standing. So if Katerina did something to that space, and Baba Yaga arrived inside it...

She set to work at once, snatching up a stick from the fire and marking a pentagram in charcoal on the floor around Bear's feet. The beast stood very still while she drew it. He stood just as still as she carefully but quickly went through the spells of containment. From this place you shall not wander, of your own power these five walls are made, and so on, and so on.

And then she was done.

"Well?" she said. "Enough?"

"We'll see," he said. "I've been trying very hard not to know what you've been doing, and I think that I succeeded. You'll soon find out, though, won't you?"

And with those words, he disappeared.

For three infinite seconds, the pentagram was empty.

Then Baba Yaga stood there, looking even more hideous than Katerina remembered from the few times her father had taken her to the court of the high king in Kiev when Baba Yaga was also in attendance there. She turned immediately to face Katerina—the witch had arrived knowing where she was.

"How long do you think your husband will live?" she asked. "I think it will be a long time. Hours and hours. I wonder if he'll still be thinking of you, at the end. Or if he'll just be wishing Bear would finish up so he can die."

Katerina had expected some such boast; she barely listened. She was much more concerned about whether her binding would hold. "When you look in the mirror, old woman, do you like the face you see?"

"Of course," said Baba Yaga. "But I don't see the same face you do."

"I'm not surprised," said Katerina. "Won't you step over to the mirror and let me see you as you see yourself?"

Baba Yaga laughed. "You're hoping that I'll try to step outside this foolish pentagram and I'll be stopped and then I'll scream and rail against you and finally plead for you to release me, which you'll do only after all these nice people are free, and your husband is safely delivered from my husband's wrath, and I've renounced my claim on Taina, and... oh, what else is it you want?"

"I expected nothing of the kind," said Katerina.

"You drew this pentagram for exercise?" asked Baba Yaga. "This sort of thing is useless against me, you know. I unmake such spells a hundred times a day, and make others twenty times as strong that I can still unmake with a flick of my fingers."

"And yet," said Katerina, "you stay within the pentagram."

"Why not?" said Baba Yaga. "It's as good a place as any to stand and watch you writhe. I'm only deciding whether to make these good people tear you limb from limb and eat you raw, or make you watch while I dismember them. Which would be more fun to think back on? If only I had one of those marvelous little boxes from Ivan's country, that remember things for you so you can see them later, as often as you want to watch."

"You talk and talk," said Katerina, "and yet you continue to stay within the pentagram."

"It amuses me to stay here, so you can hope that the spell you cast might be working."

"You don't know what spell I cast."