“Maisha my dear, bring me that child,” Baba Yaga instructed, her hand motioning towards the door while her old eyes remained squinting at the potion bubbling in her cauldron.

  “Yes, Yaga…” Maisha muttered, moving towards the exit. She could feel Ua tense up from where he lay coiled around her arm, hidden within her loose sleeves.

  “Master Yaga,” Baba Yaga corrected, her unfocused eyes sharpening as she snapped her head up to stare at her young apprentice. Ua squeezed her arm even tighter.

  “Yes! Master Yaga!” Maisha repeated enthusiastically, bending into a respectful bow and shooting the old hag a bright smile. Yaga’s narrowed gaze softened, and she reached out an old weathered hand to gently pat Maisha’s shoulder. Ua squirmed in discomfort, his scaly body wriggling away from where Yaga’s hand contacted Maisha’s shoulder.

  “Good girl. Off you go now,” the old crone smiled.

  Maisha smiled brightly in return and scampered out the room. Even as she left Yaga’s line of sight, she kept her expression composed- one never knew where Yaga might be watching. She stroked Ua lightly with a finger, the small gesture causing the young snake to relax somewhat.

  Now where did that kid go? The little witch thought as she wandered through the winding corridors of Yaga’s hut. Though it looked tiny on the outside, the old house actually had an extensive interior- no doubt due to some ingenious magics Yaga had cast on it.

  “Ah! There you are!” Maisha cried when she found the little boy outside playing with a lizard he had captured. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Now follow me, Yaga wanted to…”

  When the little boy ran up and took Maisha by the hand, the young witch paused, her sentence trailing off. The child looked up at her innocently.

  “Yaga… w-wanted to…”

  Maisha swallowed, squeezing the boy’s hand as she looked down at him.

  Maisha shook her head, trying to dispel any sense of nervousness. Whatever this child’s future was, there was nothing she could do to change it now, of that she was well aware. And it was no use worrying about something she couldn’t control. Maisha smiled down at the child.

  “Yaga wanted to see you! This way!”

  The little boy obediently followed behind her like an innocent lamb at the heels of a shepherd.

  Making their way back through the twisting hallways and winding staircases, the two children found themselves back by Yaga in no time.

  “Yaga! Here he is!” Maisha called out softly as she led the little boy into the dimly lit room she had left mere moments before. The old woman still stood hunched over her cauldron, stirring the bubbling contents with a large wooden spoon. A thick steam filled the air, the smell of bitter herbs causing the little boy by Maisha’s side to wrinkle his nose in distaste.

  “Yaga!”

  But still, as soon as the child’s eyes landed on Yaga, he ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face into the folds of her clothes. Yaga set down her wooden spoon and tenderly smiled down at the boy, stroking his hair comfortingly.

  “Here child, look at this,” Yaga crooned, pulling out a speckled black and white photo from her cloak. “I’ve found a nice home for you. This here will be your new father. And she will be your mother. You’ll be safe there. Safe and happy.”

  Maisha kept her expression and demeanor still, not letting anything betray the sudden relief she felt in her heart. Ua, too, relaxed at Yaga’s words.

  The child’s eyes widened as he stared down at the photo gently placed in his hands.

  Yaga lightly stroked the boy’s hair with a motherly expression.

  “I know you’ve wanted a proper family for a long time now… So run along quickly and pack your things,” the ancient witch gently instructed. “Maisha will take you there tonight.”

  Maisha’s ears twitched at the mention of her name.

  After a short while of coaxing, the little boy finally scurried out of the room to gather his precious few belongings. Maisha approached Yaga and peered into the steaming cauldron.

  “Where am I taking him?” the young witch asked at length, watching the dark liquid bubble and churn. The piney scent of yarrow stung Maisha’s senses as Yaga stirred in another generous helping of fresh herbs.

  “Hmmm?... Oh sweet child, you believed that nonsense I said to that boy?” Yaga hummed as she began stirring the pot again.

  “...What?” Maisha asked innocently, her voice coming out a little surprised despite herself. Yaga’s eyes slid over her little apprentice.

  “I said it on a whim,” the old witch explained, her gaze slowly turning back to her cauldron. “A final act of kindness for the child.”

  Maisha fixed her expression and nodded slowly. Ua’s finally relaxed body slowly tensed up again, and Maisha could feel a suppressed hiss escaping from his mouth.

  “Hmmm, you should be thankful, too. This way he’ll pick up all those toys he’s littered around the house. I doubt he would want to leave anything behind before leaving for his new life.” Yaga’s eyes slid over Maisha as she sprinkled something into the pot. Her gaze felt like hot irons pressing into Maisha’s skin. After a moment of thought, the old witch spoke again.

  “Are you disappointed?”

  “No,” Maisha smoothly replied. “I was just surprised.”

  “Good girl,” Yaga murmured, turning her sharp eyes back to her cauldron. “Now be a dear and light the fire for the oven.”

  A dim green light began to emanate from the potion Yaga was stirring, eerily illuminating her face.

  “We’ll be having shepherd's pie for dinner.”

  *

  How was that kind?

  Maisha slacked off from her chores to stare up at the sunny blue sky peeking out through the canopy of trees above her.

  Wasn’t it just… false hope?

  After a moment, Maisha shook her head to clear her thoughts and picked up her basket of wild mushrooms and herbs. Ua slept soundly around her shoulders, basking in the dappled sunlight. She wanted to talk to him, but every word between the two of them was a risk.

  Yaga had cast a strange spell upon Maisha and Ua when she had first taken them in. The old hag had said her spell was a safety measure- that as someone close to an untouchable witch, Maisha would need to be on her guard. As the world grew to know how much Yaga cared for her, Maisha would become a weakness to be exploited. Her life would be in danger. Thus, they needed to take precautions.

  “And the first precaution we must take,” Yaga had said, “is to protect your mind from intruders.”

  So she had cast a spell on the minds of both Maisha and Ua. A spell that made it impossible for the two of them to communicate telepathically with each other. As far as Maisha knew, they were the only pair of witch and familiar who could not communicate in this way.

  Of course, they had learned to communicate quite effectively in other ways, but they were all ways in which Yaga, too, could understand. If the old witch was paying attention- and who knew what that hag was watching at any given moment- then their conversations would not be private.

  Maisha looked down at the sweet green snake sleeping peacefully across her shoulders and collar bones. He was the only one who had always stood resolutely by her side. The only one who knew her heart and strived to protect it.

  Maisha crouched to the ground and picked a handful of chanterelles before standing up again. As she idly searched through the brush for more herbs and mushrooms, she began to play a simple game to take her mind off things. The game went like this;

  Maisha would think up a new method of escaping. Once she had a plan in mind, she would use a tiny amount of her mana to foresee what would happen if she enacted it.

  Though the result was always the same.

  I don’t know why I even bother with this anymore, Maisha sighed with discouragement. Even if I manage to escape the island… Yaga always finds me. And once she finds me, she will either kill me, or make it so I never have another chance of escaping.

  Maisha trekked through the dense brush, her eyes glazed over. The melodic chirping of birds and gentle hum of insects filled her ears. Dappled sunlight warmed her back, speckling her like a young fawn. The wind susurrated through the sunlit trees, as if the forest was sighing with her. Maisha’s steps slowed.

  All she could see was the face of that boy she had killed the night before, his expression stuck stiff in a stupid grin. The blood dripped ceaselessly down his body, pooling on the floor beneath him as she sliced away at his flesh like a butcher cleaning fresh meat.

  Maisha swallowed back the bile rising in her throat.

  Crazy old hag.

  She wanted to scream. To crouch down and hug her knees to her chest and cry. To rip out her stomach and scrub it clean.

  But who knew where Yaga might be watching.

  So Maisha kept her face calm and bright, like she always did.

  How about something ridiculous? Maisha thought as she gently crouched down beside a bright yellow patch of mushrooms. I’ve never tried simply jumping into the ocean and swimming away. Maybe I could…

  Maisha’s thoughts trailed off as the future unfurled within her mind, the action almost second nature to her by now. Starting simple, adding and subtracting little details, exhausting every possibility she could think of, working towards that shining goal of freedom.

  It took a mere handful of seconds before she knew this plan would end in failure as well.

  Of course… it was the sort of plan I expected to fail from the start…

  Still, the young witch couldn’t help the disappointment welling up in her chest. Maisha cast a glance towards the direction of the sea. Even if she drank enough potions to be able to breathe underwater for her entire life, the ocean was likely to kill her before even Yaga could.

  Enough of this. Maisha scolded as she felt herself giving up. So just think of a new scenario. I know I can’t change the present, but the future is a different story. Surely… surely there’s something out there that I can do…

  Maisha gathered up a bundle of yarrow and nestled it in her basket.

  If only there was a way to find the outcome I want without having to sift through every…

  Maisha’s eyes widened. The mathematical exercises she had been working through just two nights ago drifted into her mind as an understanding fell into place. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Wasn’t it just basic algebra?

  I know the present. And I can create a ‘known’ future. A future that I desire… And I want to know the steps that will get me to that future. That's my variable… of sorts. If I work backwards from my desired future, will I find the steps I need to take to reach it?

  It felt a little obvious now that she thought of it, but it wasn’t as if she had anyone to teach her this sort of prophecy magic. Of course, Yaga had taught her the basics. She had even guided Maisha towards the path of math and statistics after discovering the young witch’s knack for fortune telling. But her assistance ended there.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Fortune telling had a reputation of inaccuracy, and many witches considered it a useless profession. Though the ancient witch supported her little apprentice wholeheartedly, she had little interest in such things herself.

  “It takes a particularly lucky witch to make fortune telling work,” Yaga had once mused. “So it's only natural for you to have such an affinity for it.”

  Maisha glanced down at Ua and clenched her fist. She did not feel as though she were lucky at all.

  With a new spark of determination, the young witch tried imagining her desired future and worked backwards, adjusting details where needed. But after several minutes of this, she gave up, her mind exhausted.

  It’s no use… by working backwards, I just end up coming up with pasts and presents completely different from reality… Basically if I want to be free, I would need to go back in time and change my past altogether!

  Maisha fought to keep her expression steady, but she could feel her features twisting in disappointment.

  In the end this method isn’t any different from my original one; I’m still searching for a needle in a haystack. I need to find a way to keep both the present and the future fixed in my visions. If they keep changing like variables, I’ll never make any progress.

  Maisha choked back a frustrated sob. She knew it was possible. She could feel it. But her current ability simply wasn’t enough. She didn’t have the techniques to do what she wanted to do. Weaving futures wasn’t as simple as a basic algebra problem, as much as she wished it was.

  No, it’s alright, Maisha reassured herself. I can start with the present and get multiple futures. I can start with a future and get alternate presents. All I need to do now is combine the two. The steps between them will then fall into place…

  Maisha crouched down to pick some elderberries from the bushes speckling the forest floor.

  Right. Maisha thought, willing herself into a determined spirit. I just need to keep working. To keep trying. If anything, this should be reason for hope. I shouldn’t get too impatient. I shouldn’t be greedy. I won’t give up.

  But as she continued scouring the woods for herbs and fungi, her tired mind wandered, losing sight of its goal. An image resurfaced, haunting even her waking thoughts. It was the face of that innocent boy she had killed the night before, his expression forever stuck in that stupid grin.

  *

  “You’re the only one like me in this world.”

  Maisha glanced up from her book at Yaga’s muttered words. Over the many years Maisha had spent by Yaga’s side, the ancient witch always kept up an imperturbable demeanor. But tonight, her expression flashed a rare hint of fatigue.

  “We’re the only two of our kind. The other witches… they’re no different from humans. But the two of us…” Yaga trailed off, the warm firelight flickering eerily in her stormy blue eyes. “We’re different from them.”

  Maisha turned her gaze back to her book and slowly opened her mouth.

  “I will never be as strong as you, Yaga.”

  Forget Yaga, there were countless witches out there far stronger than Maisha. Yaga silently studied Maisha’s cool expression before she leaned back in her armchair and closed her eyes.

  “Perhaps,” the old witch grimaced, fatigue seeping into her expression again. “Though… it's not just about strength.”

  Maisha scoffed, but Yaga’s words made her heart feel heavy.

  “The only one in this world,” Maisha muttered. “How… lonely.”

  Yaga’s expression twisted into a sad smile, as if relieved to have finally found a companion who could understand her. It was a side of her that Maisha knew she showed no one else.

  It was times like this Maisha felt guilty for wanting to leave her.

  But the bond they shared would be the very weapon Maisha would use to seize her freedom.

  After sitting by the fire a little longer, Maisha made her way to her room, leaving Yaga asleep in her armchair. Maisha slumped down into her desk chair with a sigh and slipped a hand under the bridge of her glasses to rub the space between her brows.

  She didn’t want to be two of a kind with Yaga. She wanted to be like everyone else. Even if it meant being more like the humans Yaga so frequently looked down upon.

  Just as her heart began to feel as heavy as a stone in her chest, Ua slithered out from within her sleeves and bumped his nose against the palm of her hand. Her shoulders relaxed and a quiet smile appeared on her face as she gently rubbed the underside of the snake’s chin.

  No… just because I’m a witch doesn’t make me inhuman. I’m… I’m human, too.

  Giving Ua a final pat on the head, Maisha readjusted her glasses and opened one of the notebooks on her desk. The pages were filled with lines and lines of mathematical formulas, each growing more complicated than the last. The method she had thought of all those years ago- of thinking of fortune telling from a more calculative perspective- was not as simple as she had originally hoped. Even after mastering how to keep the present and the future as constants in her visions, each step in-between was its own variable. The more she tried to make her method work, the more unknowns she found and the more complicated the problem became.

  But Maisha didn’t give up.

  Because if she gave up… what would she have left? A life without freedom or freedom without her life… The two options she had, she could not accept. So she did not give up.

  And now she was closer than she had ever been before. She could feel it in her recent visions. Though of course, she could no longer weave futures in an instant if she incorporated her new methods. She had to slowly build them, focusing on each individual step, on the most minute of details, all while keeping the big picture in mind. If she sensed the fate going in the wrong direction, she would meticulously work backwards. If she sensed forking pathways, she would note the ones left unexplored and investigate them later.

  After scrutinizing one of the formulas in front of her for several minutes, Maisha closed her eyes and focused her mind. Calling forth a steady stream of mana, she began visualizing the present, incorporating as many details as she could, no matter how trivial they seemed. The amount of mana she used for this first step was so miniscule that she could hardly feel the drain of power, the feeling of the thin sliver of magic leaving her veins akin to a strand of hair sliding along her skin.

  The younger Maisha would have stopped here. Would have let fate run its course unaltered. But she knew better now. She focused her mind on the future, keeping it vague, allowing it to deviate to a certain extent, though centering it around her two core priorities; her life and her freedom. She then began iterating over each step it took to get from one end to the other, sifting through the countless possibilities one by one to find the answers she sought.

  As Maisha let her mind step through each iteration, the mana in her veins sprung to life. A burning pain spread throughout her body, fizzling out at her fingertips, toes, and scalp. It felt as if all the blood in her body had been electrified, a sensation both thrilling and exhausting. This was where she usually failed. Where her formulas usually fell apart.

  The process of weaving these fortunes was similar to that of braiding together the fibers of a rope. But since she needed both the present and the future to be held steady, she had to keep both ends of the rope tightly bound. So she would begin braiding first from one end, then from the other, careful not to release either end, lest her whole vision unravel.

  But braiding a rope like this causes a discontinuity in the center where the two braids meet. In other words, somewhere in her vision sat a dark and volatile space, impenetrable to her mind’s eye. The steps around this “hole” usually appeared hazy and often contradicted each other. She could unravel parts of one end to braid further along the other, but that only pushed the hole somewhere else along the line. She could make the braid smaller and tighter, getting closer and closer to the hole like a logarithmic function, but the hole would never be completely filled in and the surrounding steps remained clouded.

  The longer she spent trying various techniques, the more her grasp on the ends would waver and eventually, her grip would falter, and the whole line would unravel in a flash, leaving her with one end undone. The result would always lead to either a past that didn't exist, or a future that she didn’t want.

  But she had been working on a new formula. One where she could twist and bend this woven braid of fate, looping it through itself in a specific pattern that would allow for that missing link to reveal itself and fall into place.

  So far, her formula had only managed to backfire, the line of fate snapping and unravelling in the blink of an eye. Each time it happened, she would have to start over, and she only had enough mana for one or two of these readings of fate per day.

  Though in her eyes, this was plenty. Each time she did a reading, she would glean every possible thing she could from what she saw and use it to improve her formulas. Sometimes she even took a full week between readings just to work more on the mathematics behind her fortune telling. After all, it was much better to approach this type of magic in a methodical and calculated way, rather than to rush in blindly to only see minimal improvement with each attempt.

  “Ah…” Maisha gasped when her line of fate snapped, the fortune she had so meticulously woven unravelling down to the start, showing her a past where she had never met Yaga in the first place.

  Maisha rubbed her temples until the mild throbbing dissipated, then went to work scribbling in her notebook.

  *

  “Ah, Maisha! Just who I was looking for,” Olga bellowed with a broad smile, thumping Maisha on the back. “Do you know when Yaga will be coming back to the island?”

  Maisha smiled a bright smile.

  “I’m not sure, why do you ask?” she replied.

  “Ah,” Olga nodded. “No reason in particular. The island simply isn’t the same without her, don’t you agree?”

  Maisha studied Olga’s expression. The admiration shining in the witch’s eyes was enough to make her nauseous.

  “Of course,” Maisha smiled after a moment. “She’s one-of-a-kind, after all.”

  “Ha!” Olga burst out loudly. “That’s an understatement!”

  Maisha only smiled in return.

  There would always be these sorts of witches, idolizing someone they hardly knew. What would Olga think if she heard that Yaga saw her not as her equal, but as her subject. As an inferior species. Just another sheep from her flock, liable to be slaughtered on a whim, just like anyone else.

  Well. Anyone else… except Maisha. Of course a shepherd would slit the throat of a lamb for the sake of dinner. But it would be unthinkable for him to slit the throat of his own child.

  “Well you just let her know, Bjorn’s tavern is almost ready to open,” Olga brightly declared. “First drink is on the house!”

  Maisha briefly wondered if this offer extended to her, or if only Yaga was privy to this sort of treatment, with Maisha being a mere messenger.

  Maisha flashed another grin.

  “I’ll let her know.”

  *

  Crack!

  Maisha’s eyes snapped open. Her vision had fallen apart much sooner than usual. So much so that she still had more than enough mana left to try again that same night. Maisha furrowed her brow. Why had her vision fallen apart so suddenly? She looked down at the notebook sprawled before her, scrutinizing its contents.

  Nothing from her equations stood out to her as abnormal. Maisha frowned. After a brief moment of thought, she pulled out a round black stone from her pocket. It was a gift Yaga had given her after coming back from her most recent trip to who-knows-where; a small obsidian orb.

  Maisha stared at it for a moment. She had never given much credit to the knick-knacks and gimmicky toys utilized by those quack fortune tellers. Most of the books she had read held similar sentiments. But…

  Maisha narrowed her eyes. The black stone glittered eerily in the warm candlelight.

  If she had accidentally let some of her mana slip into the ball during her vision, could it have affected something? She had thought a mere stone like this would have little effect on her visions even if it was in contact with her person. But if this was truly what had interrupted her, then she had grossly underestimated the potency of crystal balls.

  With a frown, Maisha tried again, this time carefully controlling the flow of her mana to ensure none of it entered the ball. Then, once she had prepared her vision in precisely the same way as before, she let a fine thread of mana enter the orb.

  Crack!

  Maisha’s eyes widened slightly.

  It interrupted the flow of my mana again. Enough to cut the vision short. Usually crystal balls are used as a sole medium for fortune telling- the fortune begins and ends within the crystal ball and the fortune teller simply reads what she sees. But this time it was almost as if I was channeling the fortune into the ball after starting it elsewhere… If I can use this as a focus of sorts, then perhaps I could…

  Maisha’s thoughts tapered off as she tested her theory. She started again, as she always did. But this time, before she began iterating through the steps in between the present and her desired future, she slipped a cautious sliver of mana into the orb. If she precisely controlled what information was allowed to pass into and out of the orb, then slowly began weaving the fate she wanted to see…

  Ah…

  Maisha’s heart quickened in excitement- she could keep the information steady with far less mana!

  Swallowing dryly, Maisha continued building her fortune as she always did, but this time she used the orb to keep a firm grasp on the information that she needed to remain constant. It seemed that if she didn’t allow it to affect any aspects of the fortune, merely using it as information storage, then it wouldn’t cut her vision short. Perhaps there were other uses for the obsidian ball. But for now, she needed to focus on the task at hand.

  As the two ends of her woven string crept closer and closer to the center, Maisha began to feel a strange heat emanating from the orb, as if the information contained within it were building up pressure.

  It… it won’t explode or something will it?

  Maisha pushed her worries aside and kept going. Even if it did explode, it wouldn’t be anything she couldn’t handle.

  Just… a little more…

  Maisha ground her teeth together, her eyes squeezed shut as she sifted through the visions in her mind.

  Crack!

  Dammit! Maisha thought, reaching a hand up to rub her brows. I thought for sure that would-

  “Yaga? Yaga, are you awake? Yaga please say something…”

  Maisha bent down to check the ancient witch’s pulse. Nothing. Not even a faint beating. She took her glasses off with her free hand and stuck a lens on the witch’s upper lip, directly beneath her nose. But the glasses remained clear and spotless- the witch wasn’t breathing. Maisha’s heart skipped a beat in excitement but she kept control over her emotions. She couldn’t get ahead of herself now. She had to be certain the old hag was dead. If she made one wrong move, admitted in any way to her true aspirations, and the ancient witch was only testing her, her life would be forfeit. She had to be certain.

  With a racing heart, Maisha unconsciously pressed the stone in her right palm deeper into Yaga’s chest.

  “Yaga, wake up!!” she cried in the most desperate voice she could muster.

  “Yag-”

  Maisha’s eyes came into focus, the image of the wooden ceiling above her slowly sharpening. Had she fallen asleep on the floor again…? Maisha rubbed her eyes, feeling a strange pressure behind them. Then the vision came flooding back to her.

  No, she hadn’t simply been asleep. This hadn’t been a mere dream. She had found the missing link. The steps she needed to take to ensure her freedom. She knew what she had to do.

  She had to kill Baba Yaga.

  But was something like that really possible?

  Maisha’s heartbeat quickened.

  I saw it in a vision. That means… it must be possible. Right? Even witches aren’t infallible. It's just a matter of finding a weakness and exploiting it.

  Maisha rubbed her thumb along the obsidian orb in her palm, her eyes glazed over in thought.

  Ha! No, I don’t even need to find a weakness! Even if it's just some freak accident, if I can see the events leading up to it, I can orchestrate it! I can gently maneuver-

  “Ouch!” Maisha cried when a sharp pain shot up her fingers. She looked down to see a trickle of blood dripping out of a shallow cut on her thumb. With a frown, she raised the black orb to her face and scrutinized it. A sharp crack had formed along its surface, the deep rift penetrating nearly to its core. Maisha pursed her lips.

  I suppose I’ll be needing another one of these.

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