Cassandra didn't know what to make of the frog princess, but Owlyn kept looking at her as if waiting for her to do something. After a long awkward silence, she cleared her throat nervously.
"Well, um...nice to meet you...er...your highness," she said. "But now that Owlyn has found you, I guess there's nothing more I can do here, so I better go back."
Then she turned to leave, but the owl immediately flew over to block her way.
"What? You can't just leave us now!" Owlyn cried. "The whole reason that you're brought here is to break the spell for my lady!"
"But how am I supposed to do that?" Cassandra said. "I don't have any magic skills. Besides, she's a frog!"
"She's not a real frog, silly girl, she was turned into this hideous form by her own father. The evil Czar is a sorcerer. He was frustrated by the fact that his own daughter was wiser than him, so he turned her into a frog for three years and what's even worse, promised her to the evil Koschei the Deathless should she dare disobey and regain her human form before the three years run out."
"Wait a minute," Cassandra said. "She got turned into a frog by her own father?"
"Yes, but before Koschei could come to claim her, she ran away and has been in hiding ever since."
"Don't tell me that this frog is the same frog from the fairy tale of Vasilisa the Wise...oh wait, that's exactly who you told me she is!"
"We're not a fairy tale to you. We do exist," Owlyn said. "Now we need your help, please save our princess."
"But how?"
"You opened the Koschei's chest, didn't you?"
"Yes, but all I found was a piece of poem."
"It has the secret to breaking the spell!" the bird said spiritedly. "Only a seer could read the spell on the first try. You must know what it says."
Cassandra lanced a quick glance at the frog princess. The whole time the frog kept gazing at her. A blush colored her cheeks, and Cassandra tried to avert her eyes. The frog's stare made her feel as if she was the small one.
"Well...it says something about a virgin's touch..." Cassandra stuttered.
"Yes!" Owlyn hopped up and down in excitement and cocked her head back to the frog sitting patiently on the floor. "She could read it, my lady, I knew this is the one!" the owl cried then turned to Cassandra again. "Now now...child, you understand what to do."
"No, I don't," Cassandra said. "The poem makes no sense."
A ripple of frustration went through Owlyn's feathers like she was about to explode, but suddenly they heard a loud crashing sound. Then the castle shook and the floor rumbled. Everyone jerked around like puppets on strings.
"What is it? Oh, what is it?" gasped Cassandra in panic.
It was then, of course, that a voice spoke out from down the hall. The voice was slow and cold and thick, like frozen mud. It brought to mind all the long, cruel, inexorable processes of the earth, the erosion of mountains, the continents.
"Who...dares...trespass!?" it said.
The fire inside the hearth suddenly went out. The whole chamber was dark like a cave. Cassandra grabbed for her flashlight, which wavered hysterically around the room. The light caught something moving. There was a thing out there in the darkness, a thing which seemed to be carved of smoldering rock, and which was swimming through the floor as if the hard-packed stones were water.
Cassandra let out a shriek.
"We have to run!" Owlyn cried to her. "Quick, take my lady with you!"
"What the hell is that?" Cassandra asked.
"Groundsler," replied Owlyn. "If it catches us, we won't even have our bones left."
Cassandra did not have time to ask what a Groundsler was and did not want to find out either. She did as she was told. With a strained face, Cassandra bent down and scooped up the princess as gently and quickly as she could. She still felt a bit squeamish touching the frog's skin, but she couldn't afford to lose her life over this. Then she and Owlyn began to run through another door at the back of the hall.
There was a stairway in the cellar. It plunged narrow and straight into the darkness below. Moments after Cassandra stepped on to it, the darkness engulfed her. She had the flashlight in front of her with one hand while the other held the frog. They went down the steep uneven stone steps.
"You're squeezing her," Owlyn's voice spoke from above. "Put her in your pocket, do you have a pocket?"
"Oh yes, sorry," Cassandra breathed and then transferred the frog into her coat's pocket. She put her free hand on the wall to steady herself and quickly snatched it back. The wall was furry —with slime, cobwebs, fungus, who knew what. She didn't turn the flashlight aside to see.
Behind her, Owlyn's wings beating frantically, urging her to move faster. Cassandra wanted to say something, but the darkness and the silence closed her throat. No one had disturbed this place for centuries, and it felt as if no one had spoken in this place for centuries, too.
Cassandra could feel the tiny cold body in the pocket of her coat, occasionally moving.
"This way," the owl said when they reached the ground floor. The bird flew through a corridor to the left and Cassandra followed her. There was a small door which they entered and closed it, latching it with an iron bar they found.
The chamber was empty, deserted as a forgotten tomb. But Cassandra began to feel a little better. Nothing had jumped out at them yet.
"Good, we are now trapped," Owlyn said, "but at least, we are safe...for a tiny little while."
"What is that thing out there?" Cassandra asked. She felt her skin crawl with chills.
"It's one of Koschei's servant in this castle," Owlyn said. "An underground monster of some sort. Just think of it as a giant earthworm with lots of legs and sharp teeth."
Cassandra shivered. Then she felt a movement in her pocket again.
"Oh, the princess!" she gasped and dug her hand inside to retrieve the frog. The frog let out a soft croaky sound as if gasping for air. She felt a slight pang of pity towards the princess. It must be hard tumbling around in someone's pocket.
"Now, we don't have much time," Owlyn spoke again. "The Groundsler would come looking for us here. You have to break the spell."
"I told you I don't know how to..."
"It's the poem," this time it was the frog who spoke. Cassandra tossed the frog from her hands with a yelp of surprise. She still hadn't gotten used to her speaking ability yet, and it freaked her out. In fact, after the fear of death wore off, Cassandra started to view the frog with the same squeamish uneasiness again.
Suddenly they heard a rumbling noise coming down from above.
"Oh, no," Owlyn gasped and flipped her wings anxiously. "Oh hurry, hurry!"
"What are we going to do?" Cassandra cried and backed away from the door. The frog princess leaped forward to face her.
"Read the poem," she said. Cassandra was trembling from head to toes. The sounds were coming like the castle was collapsing, which was probably the case. "Quick!"
Cassandra wanted to live and see another day so she did as the frog said. She fished out Koschei's chest from her backpack then got the yellowish parchment out. Her hands were shaking so badly, she almost dropped everything.
She read the poem aloud, trying to drown out the noises coming closer. By the time she got to the part 'Til the touch of a virgin at dawn.' there was a loud bang behind their door.
"The Groundsler's here!" Owlyn cried.
"Are we going to die?" sobbed Cassandra.
"Get down here!" the frog cried.
Another ear-splitting bang, the hinges rattled and began to come loose. Cassandra lost her voice, but she still heard what was being said to her. The frog princess was asking her to kneel down and kneel she did. Besides she was too scared to stand and was ready to faint anyway. Once Cassandra got down to the floor, Vasilisa the frog, hopped closer towards her.
"Now lower your face and place your lips on mine," said the frog princess.
"What?" Cassandra squeaked.
"The touch of a virgin at dawn, don't you get it?" said the frog. "The sun is coming up now, and a kiss will break the spell that binds me. Trust me, I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I would rather have you than that old rusty Koschei. Now kiss me!"
Cassandra was almost eighteen, and she had never kissed anyone, but never in her life had she ever dreamed of her first kiss with a frog.
"No!" Cassandra said and got on her knees again, "I don't want to kiss you."
"Oh sweet Hecate, just kiss already!" Owlyn was quaking more like a chicken at this point. "Kiss or die!"
Bang! The iron bar on the door bent inwardly and the hinges broke. Fortunately, the monster seemed too big to come through the door, but it was just a matter of time.
"Trespassers! Come and let me devour you, bones and all!"
Cassandra's eyes went wide. The Groundsler kept pushing through the tiny entrance and the stone floor exploded, sending rubble everywhere.
It was then that she knew she had to get it over with. Without further delay, she scooped up the frog princess again. Eyes closed and breath held like she was about to take a dive in the ocean, she planted a kiss on the frog's cold slimy flat lips. She thought it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever done. Also what if it doesn't work? What if the frog doesn't turn into a princess as they expected? The Groundsler would definitely have a feast out of them. What if she herself turned into a frog too? Like one of those Disney movies she and Ruslan watched together that one evening?
But to her surprise, she felt a surge of tingling sensation rushing through her like electric sparks. Then there was bright coruscating light filling every corner of the room. It was prismatic, and scintillated in thousands—millions of little shooting points of every color, that seemed to dart in and out from the frog's body, which began to float from Cassandra's hands as the light still twinkled, leaping and dancing, ever in motion, then forming a glowing shape that illuminated the whole room with celestial radiance. It was so grateful to the eye that Cassandra breathed in awe.
"Oh Freyja's Hair! The spell has been broken! The spell has been broken!" Owlyn squeaked.
They heard the Groundsler squealing with the sound of a dying pig as the piercing light cast all over the room. The creature of dark underground could not stand the harsh brilliancy and began to retreat to where it had come.
Cassandra watched the wonderful sight, and out of the shimmering light appeared a fair young woman about her age.
After the light began to fade, she saw the young princess clearer. The first thing Cassandra noticed was that the woman was completely naked. She had a rather tall, but exquisitely-molded figure, such as a painter would have chosen as a model for a celestial being; and a face that had a kind of witchery charm but also held queenly dignity.
It wasn't only that the young sorceress possessed deep golden eyes and pouting plump lips and dainty little dimples on her chiseled face, but she had the most unusual lustrous hair, it was of pale gold and radiant like it was touched by both moonlight and early dawn. Her hair cascaded down her slender body in thick flowing tresses to her waist.
Cassandra's breath halted when Vasilisa turned to her.
"Now, you must help me find the wand."
Not with you being naked, we won't, Cassandra thought to herself but didn't say it. She knew she wouldn't get that far with this woman.
No one ever moved faster than Vasilisa did getting back up the stairs. Cassandra was huffing and gasping as she followed the sorceress. Entered another chamber, she glanced around as if fearing that the Groundsler would crawl back, but everywhere she looked was silent and empty as ever."Are we safe here?" Cassandra whispered.
Cassandra sighed in despair. Of course, it has to be some deep dark wood, she thought. Every time you need to find a dumb magical thing, there's always a creepy wood for you to go to. It has always been like that in every fairy tale she'd ever read, but she never once thought she would actually be in one.The serpent appeared to have fallen asleep. Vasilisa stood up with a determined look on her face.
Owlyn safely led Cassandra back to Chamber of Mirror. They went through the mirror again, and the last thing the owl said before leaving was, "I'd appreciate it if you washed your face. You look like something a Groundsler dragged in. And remember we are all in a very great deal of trouble if you don't come back."The bird then turned and flew down the length of the ruined hall and plunged straight into the liquid-like mirror. Cassandra looked around to make sure that she was indeed back in the human realm. To her relief, it w
Ruslan turned the sheet of paper that contained the copied spells around and tried to decipher the fascinating writing system by himself. It looked beautiful but stranger, more alien and unreadable. Yet they also had an air of mocking familiarity, and he felt he would be able to read them if he only looked at them the right way."Latin?" he asked, looking up at the sorceress with unconcealed admiration. Vasilisa was packing her grimoire, wrapping it up with a large piece of gold cloth she had found.
By the time Cassandra and Ruslan reached Mischka Park, it was closed. They had to find a way to sneak in, which was not an easy thing to do. There was a security post by the entrance gate. They weren't sure if there were any guards around, but the post was empty.Ruslan found a gap in the park's fence and motioned for her to make use of it. They could see the greenhouse in the middle of the farmland. At the edge of the park stood the old mansion of the former landlady. No one lived there anymore. It would cost a fortune to renovate it, so it was practically abandoned. Some said the Soviet doctors had turned it into
They were now sinking down to the waist, and when Cassandra looked up, she saw the great jaw open wide above them, ready to swallow them whole. Just as she thought she was going to die, her eyes caught a glimpse of glowing light from her belt, and then she remembered the Gracelin dagger the Feathered Serpent had given her.In fact, the elven blade had been glowing ever since they had entered the mansion, but Cassandra did not notice and thought that it was just her own flashlight. She wanted to smack herself in the face
It was nearly midnight at the World Beyond, and they were waiting for the moon. They waited by the window because it had a clear view of the sky."What I'm worried about," said Vasilisa, "is the open mirror. For every moment we wait that means any magical beasts or evil mags can cross to the mortal world. We are running out of time."
"Owlyn, do you think you can lead us the way into the Wood?" Vasilisa asked the bird."I'm afraid the path is lost to me, too, my lady," Owlyn said sadly. "In the World Beyond, only Feathered Serpents and the fiery falcon,Raróg,have the power to travel fast and wide. And the warlocks, with their portals..." The white owl stopped and sighed."If we're fortunate, we migh
"Oh, how I miss coming to the sun-drench island of Spain." Florence took a lungful of fresh air. She stepped out of the private jet that had landed at the Canary Island's international airport. The second person to follow was Clare. It was her first time on a private jet. She was still getting used to the special treatments that came with her status, but she was trying to be mindful and kept close to Florence.The whole flight was a smooth and easy journey, and Violet spent the entirety of it quietly working away on her laptop. If she wasn't typing, she was speaking on the phone. The Duchess dove straight to her wo
Tiredness forced Cassandra to lie down. It was a big boat. Besides her, Vasilisa had fallen into slumber again. Cassandra looked up at the moon, which was as thin as a fingernail. Then, painfully, feeling the boat rock beneath her, she propped herself on one elbow and sat up. The mist was still there, hanging low and ragged over the surface of the water. But the marsh itself had changed."We are almost there, my lady," said Nayris.
Owlyn brought back the herbs. Cassandra grounded them into a paste and applied it to the sorceress's wound. The Czarevna was less restless now and her breathing had evened out before she fell asleep again."Now what are we going to do?" Cassandra whispered softly in despair, her worried eyes kept staring at Vasilisa's pale face. The owllooked at her with a gentle surprise.
"Leave the boy with me," said the sorcerer-king. The demons retreated from the hall and closed the bronze doors behind them. The other sorcerers kept watching by the walls. When the Czar walked towards him, Ruslan looked back nervously. For a long moment, the Czar stood looking down at him without saying a word. His eyes seemed to penetrate his soul. Ruslan tried not to stare back."You must be wondering why you're brought here, young lad." His words were courteous, his manner charming, but it was clear that he had no good int
When the falling momentum stopped, they landed on hard ground. Through the opalescent light of the moon and the absence of mist above, Cassandra could see it now. The thing that had dragged her down. It was shaped vaguely like a very tall man, and its long grey arms and legs were covered with matted hair and mud. A terrible stench arose from it. Its feet were clawed like a bird's, but the knobbly fingers which had locked with such strength on her ankle ended in long twisted nails. Then the moonlight shone on its face, and she screamed again, for ithadno face, only an open, gaping wound of a mouth, with pendulous wattles of skin hanging below.
Ruslan had the impression of an open trapdoor with stone steps leading down, but his mind was no longer working. He felt as if it had been pushed into a tight, dark corner of his skull and locked there like a small, furry animal in a cage. He could still see through his eyes, still hear through his ears, but everything was at a long distance as if he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope.Nothing was important anymore, not where he was going. His thoughts crawled through treacle and were blurred around the edges, slipping and sliding away from him every time he tried to use them. If he concentrated reall
There was something about the grey creatures that sent Ruslan into a frenzy of revulsion. He fought like a demon himself. He punched and kicked furiously. The demons were nearly naked so he could see their repulsive, dark grey, hairless scrawny bodies, and their spindly limbs. When they touched him, his skin crawled.Individually, they were smaller than he was, but there were dozens of others who were human-size swarming across the rubble to help. He knew immediately that they were theDrekavac, the screamers, the mythical demons Owlyn had warned them about
Ruslan frowned. He had tumbled out onto a rocky hillside and knew at once something was wrong. He wasn't near the hill with the willow tree where they rested anymore. In fact, he didn't even seem to be in the marshes at all for that matter. How did he get here? Where were the others?Ruslan turned around and around, calling out to Cassandra. The air tasted foul, and it made him cough. It still had a hint of the metallic sulfur that had nearly choked him. And the sky, now he noticed, looked the wrong color. It had the purplish tint you sometimes got before a storm, except no storm was approaching — there was n
Never once did Cassandra think of her mother as anything but a perfectly ordinary woman. Of course, she only had vague memories of her. How her melodious voice sounded, how nice she smelled, and how warm she was to Cassandra when she was a child. Aunt Klementina told her that once when they were going to attend a wedding party, Cassandra's mother told her not to dance. Aunt Klementina hadn't been so fond of her mother for some reason and no doubt she went and danced her legs off. And she broke her hip that night.But that was