Funk-N-Fiction

This evening we’re getting a Halloweentime glimpse into the world of Deborah Blake‘s Baba Yaga series!

Even Witches Get the (Bonfire) Blues
Deborah Blake

Jazz stared into the dancing flames of the bonfire in front of her and tried not to give in to the blues. After all, it was Samhain, the most magical night of the year, and she had the warmth of the fire to keep back the chill of the Wyoming night, a collection of spell ingredients, and snacks. Well, technically they were cakes and ale to finish up her ritual, but since in her case cakes and ale consisted of a chocolate cookie as big as her head
and a glass of local cider, she figured it was kind of potato/poh-tato.

Damn, she should have brought chips.

Anyway, yes, she was alone, but that had been her choice too. Bella, her friend/teacher/kind of adoptive mom, had invited Jazz to join the three Baba Yagas (Bella, the fiery middle one, Barbara, the oldest and crankiest, and Beka, the youngest and sweetest) for their traditional yearly Samhain get together. But Jazz knew that the three older women really valued their rare times together, and besides, she was feeling weird and out of sorts, and knew she wouldn’t be good company, so she’d told Bella to go ahead without her.

It was hard to believe that only a few years ago, she hadn’t even known about the existence of the Baba Yagas, powerful witches who are charged with the task of guarding the boundaries between the Human world and that of the Otherworld, keeping the balance of nature, and occasionally (if they absolutely had to) helping a worthy seeker. Before she met Bella, Jazz had only heard of Baba Yaga in Russian fairy tales, although she’d absolutely believed in magic.

Just not that she’d end up doing it herself.

It had been a long, strange few years.

The bonfire crackled merrily, the sound of a twig snapping echoing loudly in the cool, starlit October sky, the smell of the smoke flavoring the air until you could practically taste the end of autumn. It should have been peaceful and serene, but Jazz couldn’t seem to shake the melancholy which had been haunting her. Fitting for Halloween, maybe, but not much fun.

She had to remind herself that she’d had other options. She could have gone with Bella and Koshka, Bella’s dragon-cat who disguised himself as a gigantic Norwegian Forest Cat. (All Baba Yaga’s had a Chudo-Yudo companion in one form or another.) Or stayed down at the house with Bella’s former Hotshots firefighter husband, Sam, who said he was going to give out candy to the few locals who drove their kids around the rural area for trick or treating, but mostly ate it himself while watching hockey.

Jazz loved Sam, who always treated her well even when she was acting like a bratty teenager, but she wasn’t all that fond of children, and really didn’t love hockey, so she’d decided to sit out in the back yard, behind Bella’s caravan, the modernized version of a Baba Yaga’s hut on chicken legs, where they often did magical work around the fire pit Sam had dug them.

Which was what she’d told herself she wanted, although now she was having second thoughts. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t spent lots of time on her own. Ten years in the foster care system, then running away at fifteen and spending six months living wild in the forest until she met up with Bella during the crazy adventure that somehow ended up with her, Bella, and Sam becoming a family and Bella taking on Jazz as a Baba Yaga in training. Nobody was more independent than she was.

But now she was facing some big decisions, and a part of her wished she didn’t have to make them on her own. This whole being a grown-up sucked rocks.

The grown-up thing was kind of the point, though. The why of her choosing to spend this night alone, to ponder the future, figure out her next steps, come up with a plan.

Jazz was well aware that she had a tendency to zigzag between grumpy, insecure teen and mostly stable, competent adult. Unlike most people, she was actually both. Chronologically, she was eighteen. But due to a well-intentioned but way out of her depth spell she’d done a couple of years ago, she’d aged ten years in a few moments time.

Physically, she looked twenty-eight, not eighteen. And because she’d both screwed up so royally (almost dying in the process) but also demonstrated the unexpected strength of her powers, the Queen of the Otherworld had demanded that Bella and Jazz spend a year in the magical lands of the uncanny Otherworld, where Jazz was given intensive training so her knowledge would catch up with her abilities. Not to mention develop better decision-making skills, no doubt.

Her training had continued once they’d returned home, but last week both Bella and the Queen had agreed that Jazz was ready to go out on her first solo venture. Which Jazz had been saying for ages.

So why was she so uncertain about it, now that the time had finally come?

She shook her head in bemused frustration with her own indecisiveness, making her body in its cross-legged position rock enough to earn her what felt like a set of needles digging into one knee. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked down at the tiny black fuzzball perched there, reminding her that she wasn’t as alone as she felt.

“Sorry, baby,” she said to the kitten. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Bright green eyes gleamed back up at her as a loud purr emanated from the tiny furry body. A sound between a meow and a burp erupted from the black form, followed by a faint plume of smoke that drifted off to mingle with the smoke being put off by the bonfire.

“Onyx!” Jazz scolded the kitten-that-was-also-a-dragon, “No more cheese for you! I told you it upsets your stomach.”

The kitten, who would someday grow up to be a full-sized Chudo-Yudo dragon, gazed up at her without blinking for a minute then reached out one paw to pat the magical supplies set out on a flat rock in front of them.

“Yes, yes,” Jazz said. “I’ll do the spell now. No more stalling.” Yeesh. Even a tiny kitten was bossing her around.

The ingredients she’d chosen for her spell were pretty simple, as was the spell itself. Mostly because she was hoping for a reasonably simple answer, even though the question she was asking was fairly complex. Still, mostly it came down to this: where should she go for her first solo adventure, and how should she get there?

After all, she didn’t have her own modern house on chicken legs, like Barbara’s Airstream trailer, Bella’s caravan, or Beka’s converted bus. They’d all inherited their traveling homes from the Baba Yagas who’d trained them, but obviously, Bella was still using hers. She’d talked about the issue with the three Baba Yagas, but no one was really sure how Jazz was supposed to get her own. Sam had suggested just buying her a van, but that somehow that didn’t feel right.

Plus, she hadn’t gotten a Call, which was what usually drew a Baba Yaga to a problem that needed to be solved using her own special skills. So Jazz was left with the need to go do a Baba Yaga thing, in some kind of vehicle she could also live in, but no one seemed to know how.

So she’d come out on this Samhain night seeking answers. Halloween had gotten its spooky reputation from the fact that on this day, the veil between the mundane world and the other worlds—of spirit, of magic, of those who had gone before—was at its thinnest. Jazz was hoping that she could summon someone or something that would be able to give her the answers she sought.

She threw rosemary and thyme into the fire, along with a few more esoteric herbs that Bella had gifted Jazz with to create her own magical tool kit. In her left hand she held a quartz crystal, for clear vision, and in her right, a piece of amber for safe travels. Finally, she said the words of the spell, using her focus and will to send her intention out into the universe.

“Spirits light and spirits wise, come before my waiting eyes. On this sacred night so bright, bring me wisdom and insight. So I might see the path ahead, and know the way that I should tread.”

After the last word had echoes into the silent skies, Onyx let out a squeaky meow, and scrambled up Jazz’s pants, over her sweatshirt, and onto her right shoulder, where she clung to Jazz’s jean’s jacket with sharp tiny claws. A barely detectible growl (that wouldn’t have intimidated a squirrel) emanated from the kitten’s throat as Jazz put down her stones and rose careful to face the figure that had appeared on the other side of the bonfire, seemingly formed out the night and the fire itself.

A woman with long auburn hair, wearing an ornately decorated leather dress and a top hat with a hawk feather sticking out of its brim, holding a tall staff crowned with a ruby that burned with an eerie light, she was somehow both ethereal and earthly, like a mixture of Renaissance Faire steampunk and a creature from the Otherworld. For all Jazz knew, she could have been both, although her suspicion, based on everything she’d learned from her studies, was that her spell had invoked a Fire spirit.

Either way, it paid to be polite. Jazz bowed deeply, holding onto Onyx so the kitten didn’t fall off.

“Greetings and welcome,” she said to the figure. “If you have come in answer to my spell, I thank you. Blessings to you on this Samhain night.”

The woman bowed back, her top hat not wavering in the least, and replied in a husky, musical voice that sounded like deep chiming bells, “Blessings to you as well, Jazz of the Baba Yagas.” She nodded at the kitten. “Do not worry, my small cousin. I mean neither you nor your mistress any harm.”

The growl changed to a purr, and Jazz felt a puff of heated air pass by her ears.

“Have you come to give me guidance?” Jazz asked hopefully. “Soon I must set off on an important journey, and I confess that I am uncertain as to the best way to fulfill the task.”

The woman gave a throaty laugh, sparks flying up from the staff she held as if to follow the notes up into the sky. “My dear girl, you will do just fine. Simply set out as you intend to go on, and what you need will appear. You are a Baba Yaga, and a powerful one at that.” She gestured at herself as if her presence there was enough to prove her point. “You shall find your way.”

She laughed again, as if in possession of a joke that Jazz hadn’t been privy to. “I suspect you shall find much more than you are expecting, in fact.” With that cryptic utterance, the woman stepped into the bonfire, seemingly unaffected by the heat, and began to fade from sight.

“Wait!” Jazz cried, reaching one hand out in the direction of the flames. “Where do I start?”

A faint voice came from the vanishing figure. “In the Otherworld, of course, little Baba. With the Queen who set you this task. Good luck!” A final trill of laughter rose up with flurry of red and yellow sparks, and she was gone.

Jazz looked down at the kitten, who stared back up at her before opening his mouth to let out a slightly forlorn-sounding meow.

“My feelings exactly, Onyx,” Jazz said. “Out of the bonfire and into the real magic. What have I gotten myself into?”