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“Relax, Adriana.” In front of my eyes, the pink, polished princess flickers. She’s suddenly a hundred-year-old crone.

And then she’s back. A polished princess again.

“My name’s Baba Yaga, and I thought I should come by for a chat. I apologize for any stress over the plumbing.”

My mouth’s drier than arena footing in mid-summer. “I—you’re Baba Yaga? The Russian witch who lived in a house with chicken legs that moved around? Did you really make stew with small children?”

She’s still smiling, so maybe none of that is true.

But what if she’s smiling because it all is?

“Your sister and I met at her recent show. Did she tell you?”

I shake my head.

“I wasn’t sure whether she’d recognize me.”

“I—should I call Alexei back?”

She shakes her head. “I came to talk to you, Adriana.”

“You did?”

“Men are pushy, always demanding more.”

I’m not sure what to say about that.

“Plumbing’s interesting, you know, following the rules of water.” She circles the main, staring at it intently. “Water’s even more fascinating than the plumbing itself. Without water, everything on earth would die. But with too much water, things either rot or drown.” She glances at me, her perfectly puckered pink lips quite bizarre now that I’ve seen her old lady form.

“I guess so.”

“Your young man has the best power of the five, I think. He’s able to ensure that the balance of life is just right. Not too much water, but not a lack either. Perfect balance has always been the ideal.”

"Where did they come from? The powers, I mean?”

Her laughter’s like the warble of a nightingale. Like the rushing of a river. Like the susurration of a hummingbird’s wing, at once small and also all-encompassing. “Mother nature. I think that’s what you humans call the force that created me these days. It sounds benevolent with that name, but it’s not really like that. The earth herself does have a consciousness, and it’s vaster than you can possibly imagine. I’m but one of many handmaidens who serve her. I’ve always served this continent, and that means I’m a caretaker for her people as well.”

“You—oh.”

“It’s hard for you to comprehend, I understand. But if I’m right, I think you may understand me better than any of the others. You, too, are brash. You, too, have made mistakes.”

“You made mistakes?”

“Really just the one.” She tilts her head, and the eyes staring at me are ancient.

And very, very sad.

“My one mistake led me to an experience a handmaiden never should have had.” She sighs.

“What?” I blink.

“I’ve never told another soul, but I’ve watched you, and I’ve decided to share this with you.” She steps closer, and I don’t retreat. “I fell for someone. Someone not unlike your man.” She tosses her head toward the barn. “Tall. Handsome. Intelligent. Off-limits.”

“A man?”

This time, her laughter’s bright and happy with just one note of sorrow. “Our time together was glorious, Adriana. Glorious.”

Who’s she talking about? “Anyone I’ve heard of?”