Chapter 43 : Baba Yaga

Erik’s POV

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My throat bobbed a few times before I finally asked, “Are you Baba Yaga?”

The woman huffed an amused snort, threading needles together to weave a complicated stitch. “No. So many witches live in huts on chicken legs.” Milky eyes pinned me down and I could barely move a muscle. She looked blind, but by the way her eyes focused on me, she could see far more than my appearance.

I could feel her power pulsing in the walls around me, paralyzing every tendon in my body. Even my companions were pinned to the floor, arms shaking with the effort to push themselves up again. But the witch wouldn’t let them.

She didn’t seem young or old, even with her gray hair and spindly arms and legs, there was a timelessness about her. Her face wasn’t beautiful or ugly. Weak or strong. In fact, she looked like a sweet old grandmother who cared for my brothers and me when we were young.