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She shrugs. “His name was Rurik—sometimes called Riurik. He was a Viking king.”
Holy ergot.
“When he asked me for a boon, to keep our daughter safe, I couldn’t bear to deny him.”
Her daughter? A chill runs down my spine. The second child of Riurik that the secret records mention was the forbidden love child of the Earth’s handmaiden and the conquering King of Russia?
“The boon he asked for—I was blinded by our love. It made me stupid.” She’s revisiting memories now, her eyes almost wistful. “All of Russia’s children are mine—not just Riurik’s. I forgot that for a time.”
“So, you. . .”
“My power as a caretaker works much the same way that water does, you know. It flows, it ebbs, and it consumes. But once the valve has been flipped, it can’t be closed.” Her eyes swing back to mine, and they’re vast. The emotions I see swirling in them can’t all be identified.
“You gifted them with earth, wind, fire, water, and electricity,” I say.
“I gave all five of those powers to the children of my beloved, but then my fickle Riurik, he and I fought. His vision for Russia and mine weren’t the same.” She sighs. “During a time when we were arguing, he fell for another woman, someone like him, someone simpler. With her, he had another child.” She swallows slowly. “He turned from me once he had what he really wanted in the first place.”
Oh, no.
“A son.”
“Were you angry?” I ask.
“I was broken.” Her eyes are haunted.
“But at least you still had a daughter.”
“They often ignored females then.” Her voice is bitter. “Her life wasn’t easy.”
“Are you angry? Did you hate the son he had with the other woman?”
When she faces me again, she’s fully in the present. “I’m not a woman. I’m all women. Those other children, they are also mine. I forgot that truth for a time. But I remembered—his other child, he was also mine. All of Russia’s children are mine.”
This is so weird.
“There’s a reason fraternization with humans is forbidden to those like me,” she says. “When Riurik’s line failed, when no one was left to lead the Russian people, and then when good people came and begged for my help so that they, like the Riurkin, could effectively rule, I tried to set things right.”
“What does that mean?”
“Have you heard of the Time of Troubles?”
“That’s the decade before the Romanovs took over,” I say.
She smiles. “I helped to end that. I flipped more valves, this time splitting my power into the five more-or-less discrete pieces you mentioned the noble families having so that no one person could control it all.”
“But?” I arch one eyebrow.
“It all comes from the same place,” she says. “I thought Riurik’s line was gone. I couldn’t sense any of them. That’s why I did it.” She snaps, and the water main bursts again. “But I was wrong. They had simply moved too far out of my sphere for me to sense their existence. They hadn’t tried to access the water main in so long, I thought the valve had frozen shut.”
I step back, but I’m too late. I’m already drenched.
Although she hasn’t moved, although the water rains down all over her, Baba Yaga remains utterly dry. She’s not a crone, and she’s not a maiden. Now she probably looks forty years old, but her eyes are ancient—dark and intent. She clearly thinks that what she’s saying next is the most important piece of information she’ll be sharing.
“The water all comes from the same place, Adriana, from the same main.” Her words are barely audible over the roar of the water. “Do you understand me? Only the highest valve up each line controls it.”
I shake my head. “What does that mean?”
She snaps again.
