Season of the Witch part 20

There seemed to be a million trees in this forest.  I knew it was a fool’s errand trying to find the right one in so little time; Koschei covered his tracks so well.  It wasn’t like he made frequent visits here, either, so any traces would have been washed away by the elements centuries ago.  If I had more time to research, then maybe I would be able to find it more easily, but so far I was on a tight schedule, and so far I was getting nowhere.
Well, what a great hero I’ve been.  I made it into the lair and got my claws on the sword, only to get captured, tortured, and lose any connection to anyone who might help me.  And now I’m blundering around in a forest, without much hope of finding what I seek in time.
I wasn’t giving up...but I sent out a silent plea to anyone who might listen.
Help me.  Please.  For the sake of my family.  That includes Calla.


As if on cue, a few minutes later my ears picked up the sound of wings flapping.  Ungainly-sounding wings, accompanied by a squawk, then a crash up in the branches above me.  I looked up...just in time for a duck to land on my head.
This is not a typical occurrence in my life.  It was messy and feathery.  And smelled like pond scum.  I hurriedly clawed it off (without actually harming it), and held it at arm’s length.
Something was odd about this duck, as I took a good look at it.  It was an unusual shade of green all over, and something about its feathers seemed more like they should be scales.  The bill was all flattened out, making it look like a frog masquerading as a duck, and its webbed feet a murky green.  In some ways, this was the ugliest duck I had ever seen.
It looked at me out of big golden eyes (also unusual for a duck), and quacked at me.
“...What’s up, duck?”


It quacked again, and squirmed indignantly until I set it down on the forest floor.  Taking a second to get its feathers back in order, it then waddled up and grabbed my pant leg in its bill, tugging.  I tried to shake it off, but it tugged more insistently.
Hmm…
“If this were a fairy tale,” I said aloud,* “following you would help me to find the tree where Mr. the Deathless keeps his soul.”
The duck nodded its head excitedly, and continued pulling.
This could be a trick by Mr. the Deathless.  But really, what have I got to lose?
“Okay.  I’ll come.  But if you’re here to lead me astray, I’m having duck a l’orange for dinner.  Got it?”
It nodded again, and began waddling away.  This time, I followed.


After a while, I realized that it would be faster to carry the duck, and have it nudge me whenever we needed to make a turn or something.  It did seem to appreciate not having to waddle across the forest floor, and even nestled itself into my side.
And finally, we found the tree, next to a rushing stream.

*In Russian, just in case.