Season of the Witch part 7

My mirror opened up in the corner of the Red Square, and I collapsed out onto the cobblestones, holding my gut in pain and waiting for it to subside.  Thankfully, I managed not to even dry heave, and after the shaking and agony and feeling like my insides had been mercilessly played tug-of-war with had dissipated somewhat, I found myself being helped to my feet by what appeared surprisingly to be a human tourist of some kind.
“S toboy vse vporyadke?”* she asked, looking at me with concern.
“Da.  Bolshoe spasibo,”** I reassured her, raising a claw and nodding.  She looked me up and down, not convinced, and commented that I looked terrible.  I just said that travelling made me nauseous sometimes.  The tourist laughed, and said that she understood how I felt, before asking if I was sure she couldn’t take me to my hotel or something.  I said that no, I’d be fine in a moment, but thanked her again for her time.  She walked off with a smile over one shoulder and a parting “Dasvidaniya!”***

***

St. Basil’s Cathedral was just across the way.  And since it was a Monday in June, and therefore not the tourist season, it was relatively easy for me to walk towards it, and buy an admission ticket at the western church.  So far, so good.


Once inside the cathedral, I went to the basement (not bothering with a tour guide), admiring the art and architecture as I went.  It really is a beautiful place; despite the direness of my reason for being there, I couldn’t help noticing the fake brick paint job (also known as pod kirpich), the places with the genuine brick walls, the gold-covered artwork, and the walls decorated with fancy flowers.  But I didn’t have time to admire it long-I had a sword to find.


Baba Yaga had instructed me to examine anything with a possible aura on it.  She also knew about my ability to see magic, and had cooked up (almost literally) a spell to make it even better for this situation.  It came in the shape of a pair of fake eyeglasses; when I put them on, they allowed me to distinguish what different magical auras meant, and would light up accordingly.  Red meant a trap, green was just a concealment or enchantment, blue was a little bit of both red and green-type spells, and yellow sparks me showed where the spell could be disabled, if possible.  It made me question whether she really hadn’t seen Mission: Impossible.


Most of the spells I found, around certain objects, and even on some of the cobblestones, were red.  None of the green ones that I’d tried so far was what I was looking for.  If this were any other case, I would probably have given up in frustration, and tried again tomorrow.  But the freedom of someone that mattered a lot to me was at stake; I couldn’t afford to waste even a second trying to find the entrance to wherever Mr. the Deathless kept that sword.


And then, finally, it appeared that I had found something.  In a corner of one of the rooms, under a window, there was a set of brick stairs.  That was already strange enough, unless they opened and closed the window with the benefit of gnomes; however, there was the added peculiarity that the stairs were glowing blue.  Just in case it was a fluke of some kind, I peered over the tops of my glasses at them.  Without the glasses, I could still see that there was a spell.  Put them back on, and the blue color showed up again.  On a wild hunch, I decided to see if this was the opening I needed.  I didn’t know how it was possible, but it was worth a shot.  Reaching into my pack, I pulled out a few of my supplies: a skeleton key (literally made out of bone), a ball of pure white, unblemished yarn, four silver thumbtacks, and a black-and-white PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign (in several languages).  Then I set to work.


The trick here, which could play an instrumental part in my getting out of here alive, was getting past the spell without Koschei ever finding out I was there.  If his spells were disturbed, then he would definitely know someone was messing with them, and even with my little bag of tricks, I would probably end up a gone goose.  As it was, I had to be careful how I touched the thing while I worked.


First of all, I hung the PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign on a convenient peg on the wall; even though those things mainly seem to tempt people to do just that, they are still useful in their own right.  Besides, this one was enchanted to automatically encourage people to obey it.  Then I pulled out one of the thumbtacks, and gingerly, trying to keep my claw from trembling, I set it down in the upper right hand corner of the stairs.  Where it touched the spell, it hissed and fizzled, causing a few more yellow sparks to appear.  I froze in alarm; I didn’t want it to disintegrate the spell entirely, no no no…
After a tense second, the rest of the spell sort of bubbled up around the needle part of the tack, leaving just the plastic sticking out.  I exhaled slowly, and then completed the process with the other tacks in the other corners.  I then unwound some of the yarn, enough to leave a long tail, and then wound the beginning of it around one of the tacks.  Once I felt it was secure, I pulled it out to the tack opposite, and wound it around that tack, etc.


Once I had finished, I had what appeared to be a square laying on top of the spell and stairs, just big enough for me to go through if I tucked in my wings a little bit.  Now for the last stage.  Using one of my claws to cut the yarn, I stowed the remainder of the ball in my pack, and produced the skeleton key.  Looking around, I decided to insert it in the left side; as I brought the key close, a keyhole appeared in the spell.  I inserted the key, and turned it until I heard a click, before pulling it up.  And lo and behold, the spell moved up with it, having turned into a sort of trapdoor.  Mission partway accomplished.


I glanced over my shoulder, to see if anyone was watching me.  Fortunately, there was nobody visibly paying attention to me.  And if they were, well, too late to do anything now.  It was now or never.  So I reached under the new door, being careful not to touch the upper side, feeling some relief when my claws touched brick, and lowered myself inside feet first.  Unfortunately, I had to let it close over me, and could only hope that either it lasted long enough for me to get out, or if the spell absorbed it, then I could find a new exit.

*Are you all right?
**Yes, I’m fine.

***Now I hear you wondering what is wrong with this picture: why would a human woman not be alarmed at the fact that she was suddenly talking to a gargoyle?  The answer, again: a highly useful spell Calla created that I keep in my pocket for special occasions.  It means that humans see me as just another roguishly handsome human.  Even if I am rather scruffy. Very useful for these kind of situations.  Every non-humanoid monster should get one.