Babayaga

temptation to lure you in. It’s right out of a folktale, a beautiful girl with a fool in a flying ship.”
    “Well, I don’t—it’s a little more simple than that,” Will stammered, her mention of sex making his heart skip a beat. “You really only have to show them a bit of a life they admire or desire, a story they want to be a part of, paint them a picture and then invite them into it.”
    “Ah, I understand.” She smiled, almost to herself. “So it’s not love, it’s merely a spell. So, then what? Tell me, what happens after these victims of yours buy your product and the spell is broken? When they awaken to find their life is as empty and sad as it was before, only now a little poorer too?”
    Will seemed suddenly self-conscious. “Maybe they feel that way, maybe not, depends on the product. But I wouldn’t call them victims. I think—”
    “I’m sorry, I am being rude.” She put her hand down onto his leg to reassure him and began to shift the conversation. “I am only trying to understand, your world is so very different from mine.”
    “No, it’s fine. I don’t get to talk about this stuff much outside of the office.” Will collected himself. “But it’s all boring, really. Tell me about you, where are you from?”
    “Russia, a small country town.”
    “And what brought you here?”
    Now it was Zoya’s turn to shrug. “Oh, I came here for my studies. For school.”
    “What do you study?”
    “Life, different kinds of life. I was interested in botany and for a long time I investigated various plants.” She refilled their shot glasses. “Insects and bugs too.”
    “Bugs?” said Will, his eyes brightening with bemusement. “I have to admit I’ve never been very interested in bugs.”
    “Oh, I know a lot about bugs, the ones in the sky, below the earth, in your hair and beneath your skin, even the ones churning now in your stomach. There are so many bugs, but I don’t want to talk about them tonight,” Zoya said. “Let’s try this, we’ll make it fun, you ask me a question about you.” She leaned in closer, she could smell him now. “Go ahead, ask.”
    “Okay,” said Will, thinking for a moment. “Why did you say I was lost?”
    “Oh, when did I say that?” she said with a wry smile.
    “At Oliver’s apartment, when he and I were leaving.”
    “Yes, I remember. I didn’t think you heard me. I said it because in the times I’ve met you, you did seem lost, like the autumn leaves that float so uncertainly in the sky. Even when I first saw you on the metro, I noticed it. There was some confusion in your eyes, a need for answers. I don’t think it’s a feeling you’re used to.”
    Will sat back in his chair and looked at her, wondering how she saw so much. Finally he said, “You’re right. I’m not used to it.”
    She smiled. “Well, too much certainty is never wise. You must always be ready for the chaos, bend with it like a tree in the wind. That is how you survive.” She poured him another shot. “You know, in Russia if you open a bottle it’s bad luck not to drink it all.”
    “The whole thing?” He took the shot and slammed the glass down, feeling light-headed.
    “Come.” She refilled the glass. “Drink more.”
    “Wait, wait, there’s also the other thing you said.”
    “When was this?” she took the shot. Her eyes grew wide as the liquor went down, and then she smiled.
    “Back at Oliver’s, you told me you had the answers. That’s what you said. What did you mean?”
    She slid another shot toward him. “Drink again. Then we talk.”
    So he drank. She had drawn him in with such simple tricks: the promise of easy conquest and the vague offer of solutions, these were the tides that always pulled men in, even simpler than the promise of flesh or money. Now all she needed to know was what troubles he was knotted in, for once she untied him from those, he would be as sealed to her as the silver rings that encircled her fingers.
    He talked and as she listened, she was filled with delicious wonder. Whenever he slowed in his narrative she would pour him another shot while, at the same time, gently tapping out truth spells under the table. Over the next hour and a half, he revealed a lot. There were so many twists to his tale, even she was impressed: a knife, a dead Russian, a missing file, and too many other details for her to keep track of, light-headed as she was from drawing out spells and drinking down clear liquor. She had seen so much