Chapter 12 #3
“What has Zima got to do with summer?” Stacia asked.
The aunties all blinked and looked at each other, then back at Stacia and Zakhar. “She’s the snow child,” they said as one.
When they stared at the aunties blankly, one of the younger aunties looked at the eldest and said, “You’d better explain who we are.”
The eldest sighed and said, “Very well. Please,” she added, holding up a hand. “Sit down, and I will tell you how we made Zima.”
Once they were seated, she said, “My name is Daz. My magic is in gift-giving, motherhood, sunshine, the renewal of life, and weddings. These are my sisters. Stribog—her gifts include manipulation of the wind, the ability to travel on lightning, and the ability to jump high and far. Moksha has power over death, fertility, fields, and herds. Veles can manipulate the waters and the earth. Sima controls all things in the sky, including birds and storms, while her identical twin, Yaryl, manages all the living things on and beneath the earth, including plants and animals. Last is Peruna, who controls fire and weapons.”
Both Stacia and Zakhar had heard these names before.
They were the names of old gods and goddesses their ancestors had worshipped for millennia.
Neither of them knew what to say. Never had they expected to meet these .
. . goddesses and see them act like real people.
People who served them lamb stew. What was this place?
Zakhar, in particular, didn’t know what to say. He didn’t believe in the old stories. They weren’t real. Were they? Then again, he didn’t used to believe in magic either. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps you’d better tell us how you created Zima and why you want us to take her.”
The aunties looked at each other. Daz continued speaking. “We were traveling when we first came upon Zima’s lost soul. She didn’t know who she was then, or how she’d become lost.”
“She no longer possessed a body,” Moksha explained.
“So we made a new one for her,” Yaryl added.
Peruna added, “All of us helped. Each of us added a bit.”
“For the magic to work, we had to search the world until we found her original body. It had been lost in the ice,” said Stribog.
Veles explained, “We took a bit of hair, then fashioned her new form. We didn’t expect the ice to stay with it.”
“We just wanted to know what it felt like to be mothers ourselves,” Sima said softly. “We help so many mortals but never get to experience it.”
“She’s our little snow child, you see?” finished Daz. “But the snow stays when she does.”
“Yes. The townspeople want summer. They need summer for their crops,” said Moksha.
“So we made a deal with the vodnik and warned her about crossing the bridge.”
“They weren’t going to hurt her,” one auntie added.
“No. Only keep her for five or six months if she tried to cross.”
“Just to make the townspeople happy.”
“But . . . could you not relocate your home, at least in the summers? Perhaps to a snow-topped mountain or some such?”
Sima replied, “We are bound to this home so long as we reside in mortal form.”
“And we must remain in mortal form so long as the child lives,” Velas added. “At least until the price has been paid and she is freed.”
“Freed?” asked Stacia, but her query was ignored.
“But we also have a responsibility to the people. They need to eat,” Daz said.
“And Zima needs friends,” Sima finished.
Zakhar thought but didn’t say that friends wouldn’t have agreed to cast a poor child out into the woods for several months alone.
“I see,” Stacia said, managing to hold back her personal opinions on their mothering abilities. “But whatever the case, now the vodnik have Iriko.”
“They’ll trade. We have things they want,” promised Daz. “If you take Zima with you, we’ll give you plenty of things you can offer in exchange. Is it a bargain?”
Zakhar held up a hand. “We only need to keep her for the next five or six months? Then you’ll want her back?”
“Oh yes,” Moksha said. “We love her. We will take her back in the winter months.”
“But it will hail, sleet, and snow when we’re with her?” Stacia asked.
“Yes, unfortunately. But we can give you warm clothing and gifts, like we said. We have many things to help you,” Sima said.
“And are the vodnik likely to kill Iriko before morning?”
The aunties looked at one another and conversed quietly, then shook their heads. “No. We don’t believe they will. At least not until we speak with them. They will wait to find out if we are angry at them for letting Zima go free.”
Stacia gave them a long look, then nodded and yawned. “Very well. You have a deal. Give us a few hours to sleep, and then you can give us what we’ll need to make the trade.”
The relief on their faces was palpable.
“Wonderful! Zima will be thrilled,” Yaryl said.
“Yes. It’s great. Looking forward to eternal winter myself,” Stacia said. “Now, spokoynoy nochi, ladies. See you in a few hours.”
The aunties nodded and, one by one, left the room.
“What do you think they meant by Zima needing to be free?” Zakhar asked.
“I don’t know,” Stacia answered. “But I have a feeling she’ll be better off with us.”
“Agreed.” He shuffled around and flung out his quilt. “I hope we made the right decision,” Zakhar said before leaning back in the chair and shutting his eyes.
“So do I, Zakhar,” Stacia said, doing the same. “So do I.”