I force myself not to doubt. I can do this. I can stop this. I have the power in me.
This time, when the magic flies from my hands, it’s so powerful that it sends me stumbling backward in the water. Everything is churning around me, and I can’t look at anything but the wave. I sense rather than see Ethan holding my mother. But he stays next to me, just as he’s promised.
“Ya dolzhen!” I say again. “I must control the water. The wave must do what I want. I must bring back my friends.”
I’m hurtled backward again, and again I struggle up from the water. I dig my feet into the sand and push the wave back and down. Back and down—again and again. I don’t know how long it takes. It feels like hours.
“I knew you had it in you, girl!” Baba Yaga shouts to me.
What’s strange is that, somehow, I knew I did, too.
The sky grows blue. The wave shrinks, lowers itself so quickly that I don’t even see it all happen. My body vibrates with the power that’s streaming out of me and into the wave. When it hits me, it’s still big enough to wash over me completely. My eyes are open as I lose my balance again, and inside the wave, I see rusalkas tumbling about. And then it’s over. Ethan drags me to the surface.
My mother is pale as death and crying. “You’re bleeding,” she says. “Anne. You’re bleeding. Oh, sweetheart. Thank God it stopped. You’re okay.”
“Where are they?” I look wildly around me. The magic is still racing through my veins, my blood, my everything. Have I failed? Was I too late?
“Look!” Ethan points out into the lake that’s still choppy but slowly settling.
Lily wades toward us gracefully, like it’s no effort at all for her to make her way through the surf. In her arms, she carries Tess’s limp body.
“Tess. Tess!” Half wading, half swimming, I make my way out to them. “Tess. Oh, Tess.”
“Anne. Oh, my dear Anne. I’m so sorry.” This is what Lily says to me as I approach her—as I look at my friend’s arm trailing lifeless against the water. Her face is white. Her eyes are closed.
But Lily isn’t looking at Tess. Her gaze is fixed to her right. I track where she’s looking, see the body floating facedown in the water.
Ben.
I don’t really know what I do or say after that. Ethan swims swiftly to Ben, and somehow, we’re all on the beach except Lily, who stays in the shallows, watching silently, and Baba Yaga, who has momentarily disappeared into the clouds.
My mother and Ethan kneel over Ben and Tess. I stand there, numb. They can’t be dead. They just can’t be. How could I have brought them back and not have them be alive?
Ethan starts chest compressions on Tess. I think fuzzily that we really should try to revive Ben first. Ben’s a lifeguard, isn’t he? He’s trained in CPR. He’d know what to do. He’d be working on Tess right now. Except he’s not. Because he’s lying there dead.
Ethan lifts Tess’s wrist. Presses his fingers to her wrist. Dips his head to her chest. “There’s a faint pulse,” he says grimly. “She’s alive. But just barely.” He rolls her to her side and pats her gently on the back. She coughs—the barest of sounds.
I look out into the lake at Lily. Other rusalkas have joined her now, but they make no move to come to shore. Is she controlling them? Could she have stopped them from attacking us, from taking Tess, if she had wanted to?
“Is this what you wanted?” I scream. “Does this make you happy? Do you think I’ll help you with your vengeance plan now?”
I sink to my knees, place one hand on Tess and the other on Ben. Their bodies are cold from the water but still warm with life. Tess is clinging to a thread and Ben—Ben is strong. I know this. He’s strong and good and doesn’t deserve to be mixed up in my stupid world.
“Move.” Mom edges me over in the sand. She places her hands on Ben’s chest, and like Ethan with Tess, begins CPR.
How useless am I? Magic girl. Destiny girl. But it’s Mom who took the CPR class when David was first diagnosed with cancer. It’s Mom who said that if something happened and the ambulance was delayed, at least if she was there, she could try to do something. How stupid have I been for keeping my secrets from her? Thinking what? That she’s too fragile to handle them?
“Anne.” Mom continues her rhythmic compressions. “Pinch Ben’s nose closed, and when I stop, you need to breathe into his mouth. Like this.” She mimes what she wants me to do.
I do as she directs. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I press my mouth to Ben’s and try to breathe life back into him. Ben, who I’ve probably killed. Ben, who I’ve betrayed in every way possible.
Ethan stays with Tess. Mom and I work on Ben.
“It’ll be okay,” my mother says each time she presses against Ben’s chest. “It’ll be okay.” Like a prayer. A mantra. I watch her hands. And then I think I understand something else.
Lily. My mother. Me. The women who came before us. Lily’s mother and her mother. I remember the way Mom’s hand gripped mine at the Jewel Box. The way the magic seemed to flow from both of us. But Mrs. Benson’s story was about more than that, wasn’t it? About more than just our line of descent from Viktor. I hear her words in my head again…her mother had whispered to her about the Old Ones. About powers. About the old ways of Russia. Deep secrets that went back so far that no one really knew their source. About how her grandmother had told her that nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.
If the source was unknown, if Lily’s story is true, then would that mean that my power isn’t really from Viktor and the Brotherhood? Would that explain what’s been happening inside me?
I don’t know what to believe. But I know what I saw back at the Jewel Box. I know what we did.
“Mom,” I say. She pauses from her chest compressions. Ben’s eyes flutter, just a little. “I need you to help me. I need you to do what I say. Please. Just for a few seconds. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll go back to the CPR. But please. Please, Mom.”
I will be forever grateful that she doesn’t argue with me. Ethan doesn’t either, but I can see the quizzical look in his blue eyes. He wasn’t at the Jewel Box with us. He didn’t see what I did.
So I tell my mother what to do. She places her hands on top of mine as I press one palm to Tess’s forehead and the other to Ben’s. I visualize myself healing the cut on Ethan’s thumb, try to access the magic that allowed me to that—the magic I’ve been toying with since last fall.
Nothing.
“No.” I know I’ve spoken the word, but my voice is so soft, I don’t hear myself. It isn’t enough. Whatever I have isn’t enough for this. I need more.
“Don’t,” Ethan says sharply. I wonder if he’s read my mind. Or does he just know that there’s finally no other option?
I don’t raise my palms from Tess’s and Ben’s foreheads. My mother’s hands remain pressed over mine.
“Baba Yaga,” I say slowly and firmly. “If I promise to drink from your stream, will you help me?”
“No,” Ethan is saying. “No, Anne. No. You can’t. Don’t.”
But it’s already done. She stands over us, huge and imposing, her hands impossibly large in the sleeves of her coarse brown dress. Her iron teeth gleam as she grins at me. A red kerchief is wound around her head. Her skin is wrinkled and ancient.
“You really shouldn’t trust me, daughter.”
“I’m not your daughter. My mother’s right here. And I don’t trust you. But I don’t really have a choice anymore, do I?” My mom’s hands tighten over mine. My gaze is fixed on Baba Yaga, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Mom’s mouth move silently. I wish I had the time to tell her not to panic.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Slowly, she slides her tongue over those horrible metal teeth like she’s shining them. Stares at me in a way that’s strange and familiar at the same time. Like there’s a link between us that I just need to understand. I try to pull the pieces of this crazy puzzle together before it’s too late.
More of Mrs. Benson’s raving sto
ry echoes in my head. A secret beyond what even that Brotherhood of men could understand. They were destined for something that was yet to come. One of their own blood would betray them and use them, but even he wouldn’t really know the truth of who they were, of what they were.
“It’s not just Viktor’s bloodline is it?” I ask. “I’m connected to him, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? This has never been only about Anastasia, either, has it? That’s what I still don’t get. I dreamed about Anastasia. I dreamed her dreams. Her life. Her death. Saving her was supposed to be my destiny. But it’s always been more than that, hasn’t it?”
She cocks her head to the side and observes me. Next to me, I feel Ethan move. The witch’s reaction is lightning speed. She flicks out a finger from one of those enormous hands, and by the time I turn my head, she’s somehow blocked him.
“Don’t touch her,” he manages, and then clutches at his throat in silence. It’s like Baba Yaga has hit his mute button. My mother’s too. Her eyes are huge with fear, but there’s nothing I can do but just let her keep holding my hands until the witch and I are finished.
“Leave them out of it,” I tell her. “Haven’t enough people been hurt already?”
“Their silence pleases me, daughter, nothing more. As for your destiny, that will be up to you.”
“I never wanted all this.”
“Girl, you’ve already taken it.”
“Then let me give it back. Just help me save my friends, and I’ll give it back.”
I glance at Tess and Ben. Tess’s eyes are still closed, but I can see her chest flutter up and down slowly. Ben’s eyes twitch again, but his skin is gray. Whatever bargain I’m about to make, I need to do it now.
“Daughter Anne, this is no trifle.” Baba Yaga’s voice booms so loudly that my ears feel like I’m right in front of one of the giant speakers at a concert. She reaches out with one huge hand and touches her horribly wrinkled, brown finger to Lily’s shell-shaped ruby and pearl clip, still tangled in my hair. I’d forgotten it was even there. “No mermaid’s frippery. This power has been your destiny forever.” Her fingernail grazes my temple where the clip had scratched me while I was putting it back in my hair. My skin stings, and I feel blood start to ooze and trickle down the side of my face.
“Whatever.”
She smiles again. I really wish she’d stop it because each grin forces me to think about what those iron teeth can do. She stares at me, her eyes dark as night, a skull glowing inside each pupil. I start to shiver.
“Here’s what I did not expect, my girl,” she tells me. “I did not expect you to love him.”
She shifts her gaze to Ethan, still sitting in forced silence on the sand. “You—you I was more sure of. Oh, not that I didn’t meddle a little. When one wants a certain outcome, one must tinker a bit. But it does add another element to the story, does it not? You transferring over your power to this girl, leaving yourself helpless. Such wonderful heroics, Ethan. Viktor will be delighted when he hears. I will have to tell him when I return to the hut. Some days he listens to my stories. Others, he is less—well, less able. But eventually, he’ll hear. And I’m sure he’ll find it quite in character.”
“You know, all this rambling is great and all, but we don’t have much time left here. Are you going to bargain with me or not?” My mouth spits out the words while my brain busies itself digesting what she’s just said. Did she really know that Ethan would love me? Did she really think that I wouldn’t love him? “What is it exactly that you really want?”
Baba Yaga’s skull-eyed gaze burns into mine. “What I want is to undo the harm that has been done to me. What I want is to take back my rightful legacy. I am the Death Crone, girl. I have been weakened. I have been used. And I will take back what is mine. This is what I want—what I need. This is what your destiny leads you to. This and only this is the true source of your power. It is a story you do not yet know. But you will learn. You will do. You will listen. And in the end, more choices. But it’s choice that makes you strong. Oh, girl, what I have in store for you! Quite the adventure.”
“But what do you need me for? You’re the big bad witch. I’m just a girl. That’s what you keep saying. So what do you need from me? Whatever it is, just tell me. I said I’d drink, I’ll drink. But help me save my friends.” How can she talk about choice when it always feels like I don’t really have one?
“I am what I am, my girl,” Baba Yaga says. Above us, a seagull cries out. I risk a glance at the lake. Lily and her band of rusalkas are still lurking at the water’s edge.
“I cannot be otherwise.” Baba Yaga grins at me. “But I know this. It is you who doesn’t know. I have come to you. Now you must come to me. See what is really in my hut—what it really means to go to Baba Yaga’s. Not in a dream. Not to save a girl who is beyond saving. But for yourself. Like Vasilisa in the fairy tale. You will go on your own terms and return on your own terms. And then we will see what you truly want. If you are to take what I am about to give you, if you are to be worthy, then you must know. You must know the desires of others. If you cannot look into people’s hearts, then you will never know your own. Does it not concern you that I am surprised you might love this man?”
“What do you care about that? What are you saying? You’re a witch. What do you care whether or not I fall in love?”
Baba Yaga doesn’t respond. She just reaches out one enormous hand again and strokes it across my cheek. The blood from the cut she’s made on my temple has dripped there, and when she pulls back her ancient, wrinkled hand, some of my blood is on her fingertips. I shudder violently when she flicks out her tongue and licks her fingers clean, then rubs her tongue over her creepy iron teeth.
“You have offered. I accept.”
She presses one giant hand over mine and my mother’s. Our three hands are on Tess. Our three hands are on Ben. Her power courses through me from feet to scalp. My body thrums and vibrates with it. I see stars. My pulse pounds in my ears. Underneath my hand, Ben’s heart begins to beat firmly and steadily. His chest begins to rise and fall. I look down. He opens his eyes.
“Did I save Tess?” Ben coughs. I ease my hand off his chest. My mother and Baba Yaga do the same. Mom sucks in a loud breath—a heavy wheezing sound—but her voice is back.
Ben looks only at me. “God. I can’t think. My mind’s a mess. There was a woman in the water again. Like the one at the—I was swimming to Tess when she grabbed me. She kept saying that you don’t love me. Then she pulled me under the water. You know it’s really beautiful down there, Anne. You have no idea—”
“Anne.” Her voice is weaker than Ben’s, but it’s Tess. My Tess. “Anne,” she says again. She clears her throat, turns her head sideways, and spits out some water. We all remove our hands from her as well. Baba Yaga steps away. In less than a blink, she’s back in her mortar in the sky. But my attention stays on my best friend.
“Am I dead?”
I’m laughing then, on top of my tears. Classic Tess.
“No, really,” she rasps. “Am I? Because maybe you just don’t want to tell me. You know, because you’re my best friend and all. Maybe you—”
“Idiot.” I stroke my hand over her wet, tangled blond hair. “You’re alive. Do you think I’d let you die? Who would be here to annoy me?”
“You saved me? Where’s Ben?” She looks over at him. Ben reaches for her weakly. His hand pats her shoulder and then rests itself there. “Did you get hurt trying to save me, Ben?”
“Tess.” Ethan too has his voice back. “Tess. Oh, Anne. What have you—?”
Tess—because she’s still Tess—interrupts him. “Ethan!” She clutches at his arm. “You’re okay! Thank God. I was so worried. I didn’t know what was going to happen with all those mermaids, and you were acting drugged or something, and then…what did happen out there? Everything’s so fuzzy. I just can’t remember.”
“It’s okay, Tess,” I tell her. I stroke her matted hair. “It’s okay.” I lean over to wr
ap her in my arms. As I do, the cut on the side of my face—the one that Baba Yaga etched into my skin with her sharp nail—begins to drip blood. One drop falls onto Tess’s arm. Another falls onto the sand between her and Ben. The third drops onto Ben’s hand, still resting on Tess’s shoulder.
“Destiny has a mind of its own, girl!” Baba Yaga calls to me.
“No, Anne,” Ethan says. “Oh, no.”
The beach and the lake beyond it shimmer and flicker and disappear. Baba Yaga’s forest flashes into view just inches from us. Her three horsemen gallop through the trees. I recognize my mistake—and the truth behind it—too late to stop what begins. Ethan and I had been wrong. Our entrance ticket into the forest last fall had never been about the lacquer box. It was always about me. About my blood.
“Whoa,” says Ben. “Horses.” He reaches out and sticks his free hand into the forest.
And then, just like that, Ben, Tess, and Ethan are gone.
My mother starts to scream. The shock of what’s just happened careens into me, a runaway El train colliding full force with my heart.
“You made your choice, Anne.” Baba Yaga’s voice is everywhere. “You promised. And now you will have to act. In the end, girl, each of us is always alone. Didn’t you know?”
“Anne!” Mom’s voice is totally panicked. Suddenly, I can feel the enormous pain her heart, in her soul. I need to tell her something, anything.
But it’s all too late. I’m reaching out for her, calling her name, telling her it will be okay when Baba Yaga’s giant hands swoop down from the sky, grab me, and pull me up and into the mortar.
FRIDAY, IN THE FOREST
ETHAN
My head slams against the ground in Baba Yaga’s forest hard enough to make me see double. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to quell the nausea rising in my throat. Something wet and rough flicks against my eyelids, followed by a puff of fetid breath. I open my eyes, then manage to sit up. Baba Yaga’s black cat, her koshka, watches me with his gold-flecked stare.