The next morning, Serafina opened the door to see where the cottage had settled. It was perched at the edge of the forest, high enough above the floor of a long valley that she could see for miles. Farmland blanketed the emerald-green valley all the way to the far end, where a city surrounded a castle bristling with turrets. Even from so far away she could see that something was going on. The road that passed in front of the city gates was congested with travelers. Light reflected off the polished armor of knights, and there seemed to be more people on horseback than she had ever seen in Kamien Dom. It was a beautiful view, but Serafina had no idea where she was.
A road that was little more than a goat path wound out of the forest, looping in front of the cottage and back into the forest a few hundred feet away. Serafina doubted that it ever saw much traffic, but even so, she soon had her first visitor. After that, a steady stream of people coming to ask her questions kept her occupied for the rest of the day. A visitor woke her early the next morning, and the second person arrived soon after the first one left.
A week after her arrival she was sitting at her table, mending a torn sleeve, when she heard the tread of many feet. Peeking out her window, she saw that a mounted knight had arrived at her gate with a dozen foot soldiers. She wondered for a moment if she was in trouble or in some sort of danger and was reluctant to respond when the knight called out, “Baba Yaga!” It wasn’t until he’d called a second time that she opened the door and stepped outside.
“What do you want of me?” she asked.
“If you are Baba Yaga, the woman who answers questions with the truth, answer ‘yes,’” said the knight.
“Yes,” she replied in her own voice. She expected him to come inside, but he turned his horse and rode back the way he had come, his soldiers following in his wake. “That’s one way to get an answer without posing a real question,” she murmured as he rode away.
The next morning, she had just finished her breakfast of oatmeal when she heard a distant rumble. Thinking that it was thunder, she glanced outside and was surprised to see that it was a beautiful day with only a few puffy clouds scudding high in the sky. She also saw that the skulls were all looking toward the city. Curious, she opened the door. The rumbling was suddenly much louder.
“What is it?” she asked the skulls as she peered at the cloud of dust crossing the valley floor.
“A small army is coming,” Boris replied.
“I was in the army back when I was alive,” Krany told them. “For a few weeks after, too. My buddies dragged me around with them until they found a good place to bury me. They finally dumped me in a hole when I got too ripe. That hole sure was cozy.”
“Look at the crimson banners,” said Boris. “That’s the color of the kingdom of Vargas. I bet that’s the king’s own guard. We’ve been watching them ever since they left the castle.”
“The king must be with them,” said Yure. “Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many.”
“Tell me when they come out of the trees,” Serafina told the skulls, and hurried back inside to tidy the cottage. After cleaning up her dishes, she made her bed and changed into the best gown she could find in the trunk. Her hair was thick with only a touch of gray, so she plaited it in a long braid like her mother usually wore. She was soon outside again and was waiting with the skulls when mounted men riding single file emerged from the forest carrying banners attached to long poles.
Although the king wasn’t wearing a crown or clothes of state, she knew who he was by the respectful way the soldiers looked at him. Guards surrounded the king as he approached the cottage, and two came to the gate ahead of the rest.
“His Royal Majesty, King Borysko of Vargas, has come to speak with Baba Yaga,” said the larger of the men, both of whom were dressed as officers.
“Only the person asking a question may enter,” she told them.
“The king goes nowhere without his guard,” said the officer as he set his hand on the finger-bone latch.
Serafina straightened her back and held her head high. A king had come to see her. As Serafina Divis, she would have been happy to usher them all inside, but he hadn’t come to see Serafina. He had come to see Baba Yaga, a very special person who was also due respect.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It is one of my rules.”
Serafina had turned as if to go back into the cottage when a deep voice said behind her, “I will enter by myself.”
Serafina glanced back at the gate. The king had come forward and was eyeing Boris, so she hurried to let him in before the skulls could say anything. Letting the king walk in front of her, she closed the gate, which made a loud click, and left the guards and the skulls watching one another.
“You’re awfully young to be Baba Yaga,” the king told her as she showed him to a seat at her table. “I expected to find an old crone, not a lovely woman.”
“Sometimes I am older, sometimes I am younger,” Serafina said, taking her normal seat. Although she knew that one was never supposed to sit in front of a king without permission, she figured that only Baba Yaga’s rules applied inside the cottage.
The king nodded as if her statement made perfect sense, even though Serafina knew her explanation was lacking any logic.
“May I offer you some tea or cider?” she asked, trying to think of what her mother would do in this situation. When she thought of what her mother’s face would look like if she knew her daughter was playing hostess to a king, she almost laughed out loud.
The king shook his head. “I just want my question answered,” he said, and proceeded to stare at his hands without speaking for so long that Serafina began to wonder what was wrong. “My advisors told me to be careful what I say in front of you,” he finally said. “I must not ask you any questions until I ask the one I came to have answered. My wife’s cousin is sheriff of Vioska, a minor post, but one good enough to test the mettle of an up-and-coming young man. He sent word of what you had done to help him rid the world of a particularly nasty witch. It occurred to me that I might make use of your ability as well. My question is simple enough, but much depends on your answer. If I declare war on my enemy, will I win?”
Serafina sat back and let the voice speak for her. “You will defeat your enemy, but in so doing will lose many of the people you hold most dear. Much of your kingdom will be destroyed, and you will be left the king of ruins.”
The king looked solemn when he thanked her and bade her farewell. He left a sack of gold coins on the table when he stood and strode outside. Serafina overheard him talking to his officers who’d been waiting by the gate. He told them that he knew what he had to do; he would declare war as soon as he reached the castle.
Serafina stayed in her chair, too numb to move. She heard the gate open and close, then the king and his men ride away. Of all the terrible things she had had to tell anyone, she thought that this was the worst. The king had heard what she had to say, but her warnings had made no difference. He would win, that was all that mattered, even though many of his subjects would die in the war and his kingdom would be changed forever. Serafina had never felt so awful.
Vargas, a neighbor of Pazurskie, was a peaceful kingdom. Unfortunately, King Kolenka of Khrebek, the kingdom just north of Vargas, was hungry to expand his reign. If Vargas was going to war, King Kolenka must have done something that King Borysko could not ignore. Even so, whether it was justified or not, war was a terrible thing.
As word spread that the kingdom was at war, more and more people came to see her. The tenor of the questions changed, and people rarely received good news. Nearly everyone who came to her door wanted to know how their family would fare or if they themselves would live. A few wanted to know how they could survive the war. Even fewer were given helpful answers.
Late one afternoon, a young man came to the gate carrying a sleeping baby. Without saying a word, he entered the cottage and took the offered chair, still cradling the infant in his arms. The man’s face was pale and he licked his lips nervously, but his hand was steady when he placed a loaf of bread still warm from the oven on the table.
“I was supposed to take this home for my family, but I’d heard we should bring a gift to get an answer from you. My daughter is four days old, and my wife is too ill to get out of bed. My father says that I must go to the castle in the morning and take up arms for the king. My wife doesn’t want me to go. She said she had a vision that I was going to die. Was her vision right?”
Serafina straightened her back and took a deep breath. She hated answering questions like this, but she had no choice. “Yes, it was. In two months’ time an enemy’s arrow will strike you down.”
“But my family needs me! Isn’t there anything I can do?”
“I wish I could tell you, but I can answer only your first question,” Serafina told him in her own voice.
“Yes, but this is important. Surely you can make an exception! I can’t leave my family now. If I don’t join the king’s army, will I die in two months regardless of what I do? What if I take my family and leave the kingdom? I have an uncle in—”
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t have any more answers for you.”
The young man gave her a disgusted look. “That’s what you say, but I bet you could if you wanted to. What is it? The bread wasn’t enough? If I brought you gold, you’d answer all my questions, wouldn’t you?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Serafina said, getting to her feet. “The gifts my visitors bring have no influence on the answers I give them. I can tell the truth for one question from each person, and that is all. After that, I know no more how to answer their questions than they would themselves.”
“Then what good are you?” the young man said, shouldering the baby so that she woke and began to cry. He stood and started toward the door, but before he reached it he paused long enough to turn to Serafina. “I wish I’d never come here. At least then I’d still have hope.”
Serafina didn’t know what to say. She watched him go, feeling less than useless as the young father walked away. When he reached the forest, she closed the door and drifted back to her seat at the table. Seeing the bread he’d brought, she thought about giving it back to him, but he was already gone and she didn’t think he’d want to see her again.
She went to bed early that night. Lying on her back with the covers pulled up to her chin, she thought about the young man and how hopeless he must feel. Other people had asked when they were going to die, even more often since the king declared war than in all the rest of the days that she’d been Baba Yaga, but no one else had made her feel so terrible. It was horrible news for the ones who were going to die soon, but she didn’t think even the people who were going to live a long time should ask the question. Knowing when one would die was bound to change one’s life. If only she could pick and choose which questions she would answer!
When Maks jumped onto the bed, Serafina rolled onto her side. “Are you still awake?” he asked.
“I can’t sleep. The last few days have been dreadful and tomorrow won’t be any better. The king declared war because of something I said, so I feel as if I should stay to see these people through whatever comes. But the answers I have to give them are so awful!”
“The king didn’t declare war because of you,” said Maks. “You just told him what would happen if he did fight. He probably had his mind made up before he ever came here.” The cat curled up against Serafina’s back and nudged her with his nose. “Why do you think the people need you? What good can you do them by answering their questions now?”
“That young man said that I wasn’t doing any good. He was probably right.”
The moon was high in the sky when Serafina crawled out of bed to put away all the loose objects. Maks yawned and stretched his legs in front of him. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting ready to go,” Serafina told him. “I can’t talk to one more person in this kingdom. I need to hear from someone who actually likes me. Chicken hut, chicken hut!” she cried. “Be careful when you stand and take me to Mala Kapusta. There might be a letter waiting there for me. And maybe this time I’ll send some back.”