"No, of course not," said Ruth scornfully. "Not you. If your wife ever has children, it'll be a virgin birth. That's why you needed a shiksa, isn't it? That's their specialty."
"Ruthie," said Professor Smetski, "this is as much a shock to us as it is to you, completely unexpected, but let's try to stay calm, it's a long ride home, and - "
"No, Professor Smetski, I don't think we'll be riding home together. I have a roommate who lives here in Syracuse. It was lovely to meet you, Katerina. Just a word of advice. Don't let Ivan out of your sight."
Of course the girl didn't understand a word Ruth said, but she wasn't a fool, this Ukrainian princess, and her eyes were full of tears. Remorse? Pity? Keep your crocodile tears, darling. If he wants you, then I don't want him. The man I loved wouldn't have gotten married without bothering to break off his previous engagement. So whatever you've got there with his arm attached to your back, it's not a man I ever knew or ever wanted. Somebody else, somebody faithless. I deserve better. So save your tears for yourself.
Bitch.
Without another word, Ruth turned and walked away. Out of the terminal. The payphones were all inside, but she wanted a clean break. Exit scenes had to be managed. No lingering where they could see you, see how you cry when you finally get Emilia on the phone and tell her, Bring your hot yellow roadster out to the airport, Nancy Drew, because your friend Ruthie needs a long ride with a strong breeze on her face to dry these silly damn tears.
Baba Yaga
Baba Yaga was astonished and delighted with these houses-that-fly. Long lodges like the halls of great lords, into which a hundred people crowded themselves, and then they scooted along the ground on their skinny chicken legs until they rose like geese into the sky, trailing smoke behind them from their sideways chimneys.
She knew at once that the princess and her unmanly husband had gone into one of these flying houses and traveled to a faraway place.
Why? To escape Baba Yaga, of course. There are no trails in the sky, no scent of Katerina's magic left behind. And they'd go a long way, too, to a land where Bear had no power, so Baba Yaga would be weaker yet. They thought that would stop her from following them.
It was always pleasant when an intended victim imagined himself to be safe; that added zest to her life, for it meant that the surprise would be all the more delicious. But for such a person really to be safe, that was unbearable, that sat in her belly like bad meat, churning, aching. They were not going to get away just because they had friends with such powerful magic that they could make houses fly.
Inside the airport, though, everything was confusing. Everybody seemed to know where they were going, which line to stand in. Lines meant nothing to her, of course, but when she tried to go past one particularly long line, a burly man stopped her, quite forcefully. Baba Yaga was appearing as an old woman at the time, so he wasn't rough with her, just kept explaining to her, talking more and more slowly, but none of it made sense. The people in the line had brought gifts, apparently, which they placed into the gaping mouth of a large box. The box engulfed it, and the people passed through a gate, and then they got their gift back on the other side. This made no sense at all. She had no gift, but without one, she apparently couldn't get through, even though people got their gifts back.
So Baba Yaga put on Shadow, the charm that made her unnoticeable. It wore her down to wear it - it took strength from her, apparently, with Bear so far away - but she used it only long enough to take away a woman's bag. A light one. She carried it to the box, put it in. The porch of the box moved, drew it inside. Then they let her pass through the gate.
Only it made a loud noise as she passed through it. They indicated she should step back and walk through again. Again the noise. They asked her questions she didn't understand. They took her by the arm and led her to a place where someone began