Wickedly Ever After_ A Baba Yag - Deborah Blake Page 0,3
get through the door and Babs marched along at her usual measured pace. Coming out the other side, Barbara let out a small sigh as she was enveloped in the sights and smells of the Otherworld. Giant blue and purple flowers swayed in a nonexistent breeze, towering over carpets of blue-green and lavender grass. Tiny sprites with gossamer wings played tag with gleaming lemon-yellow hummingbirds, their shrill laughter echoing above the meadow.
“Happy to be back?” Liam asked. He held on to one of Babs’s hands as if he was afraid that she would disappear, but otherwise seemed reasonably at ease for a man who until a couple of months before hadn’t even realized that magic was real.
Barbara shrugged, feeling her shoulders relax minutely. “It’s kind of a relief to be someplace where I don’t have to hide what I am, that’s all. In the Human world, I always have to be on guard against slipping up. That doesn’t mean I like it better here.”
Liam leaned down and kissed her cheek, although her five-foot-ten height meant he didn’t have to lean very far. “As long as you always want to come home,” he said. “I can’t quite imagine living here full-time.”
Her heart swelling with the knowledge that he would follow her wherever she went, Barbara almost missed the shape arrowing in overhead, so large it blotted out a piece of the sky as it grew closer. She hid a grin when Liam ducked involuntarily as the iridescent black dragon with glowing red eyes swooped overhead and then glided to an earthshaking stop right in front of them. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who had missed being able to let her real colors shine.
“Wow,” Liam said. “And I thought he was large as a dog.”
Babs looked up with eyes even rounder than usual. “Is that Chudo-Yudo?” she asked. “He is beautiful.”
“Yes, he is,” Barbara said. She’d always thought he was the most glorious of all the Baba Yagas’ dragons, although she’d never tell her sister Babas that. She rarely got to see him in his dragon guise these days, but when he went to court he usually liked to show up in his true form, even if that meant having to pull his wings in close to his body to avoid knocking over the furniture.
They walked the short distance to the castle, Chudo-Yudo gliding above them. As they grew closer, they could see the towering spires and perfectly manicured rolling lawns dotted here and there with inhumanly attractive courtiers dressed in their flowing silks and gloriously sumptuous velvets. Heavenly scents floated up from rosebushes and flowerbeds in colors never found on the other side of the door. Once they passed a phoenix perched on its nest, flames flickering from the edges of its red and orange wings.
The court was always a little bit much for Barbara’s taste—too many bright colors, too many strong perfumes, too much gossip and intrigue. But what else could you expect from a kingdom where many of the denizens lived for centuries and had nothing better to do than play croquet or attend high tea? Smaller paranormal creatures, less beautiful than the ruling class, scurried here and there carrying trays or fetching ornate filigreed fans. She stopped one of them, a sweet-faced brownie woman wearing a cotton muslin dress with an apron crafted from a giant leaf, and asked where the Queen and her consort were.
The brownie, recognizing her, curtsied and pointed down the slope that led to the lake at the far side of the castle. “Their Highnesses are having a picnic by the water, Baba Yaga. Lots of dainty sandwiches I brought them.”
A picnic was good, Barbara thought. Feeding visitors was part of the ritual courtesy of the Otherworld, and hopefully being by the serene waters of the lake would put the Queen in a relaxed mood. She nodded her thanks to the tiny servant and led her group down a path, edged by ever taller and more glittering roses, until they arrived at their destination.
The Queen, as fantastically beautiful as ever, sat upright in a throne-like chair by the edge of the water, her consort the King in a matching chair by her side. The rest of the courtiers attending the picnic, about two dozen in all, either sat in smaller chairs or sprawled in luxurious comfort upon tapestry blankets or silken pillows strewn around the pristine white sands of the lakeshore. Silver trays and small ornate tables held crystal goblets, multitudes of delicate