The shiny black nose of a fox appears through her door before the rest of it steps tentatively across the wooden floor to where she’s cooking. A pile of children’s clothes lie discarded in a corner of the room. The fox knows what she is cooking and holds back a shudder. There are some things even foxes know better than to eat.

Barbara felt lightheaded, almost dizzy with what she was about to say. But she said it anyway. "As you wish, Your Majesty. In that case, I am afraid I must resign my position as Baba Yaga. If I am forced to choose between the work I was destined to do and the man I was destined to love, I choose the man.

Naughty children have to be protected. Even if it's just from themselves.

Broken things can be fixed and healed. Nothing is too difficult or too dirty to clean.

Thanks, Baba. You are always such a comfort." She gave him a wry look. "I know. I've been considering becoming a counselor. Or possibly a nurse." Day shook his head. "If I were you, Baba Yaga, I'd stick to your day job.

My brother, are you aware that you are presently taking the form of a rather large and distinctly emerald-hued bear? Not that it isn't an improvement on your usual excessive good lucks, but...

Couldn't I just take up juggling fire over a pit of alligators?" Liam muttered. "I think it might be easier.

Liam's lips tightened. "She's only a little girl. She doesn't know anything about swords. What if she cuts herself? It's sharp, right?" "Of course it is sharp, Liam. What would be the point ot having a sword that wasn't?