“Hush.” He grinned and pulled forward the parcel, unwrapped it. No doubt his ever-growling stomach was curious as to what mysteries it held. “Here is the surprising part—in the middle of the hay stood a beautiful young maiden, and she was crying out for help. ‘Save me, good sir,’ she called to him. But the heat was so great that he couldn’t get near enough. So she bade him to stretch out his lance so that she might use it to pull herself to safety. He obeyed. But when the fair maiden laid hold of the lance, she turned instantly to a snake and slithered up it.”
“Oh!” Claire shuddered. “I suppose I should have known from the title there would be a snake, but still.”
What was in the package? From what Nadya could see, it looked like a good-sized chunk of cheese, a jar of olives, a few eggs. Was the smaller package flour? She could hope. She hadn’t had bread in weeks.
“Luckily for our hero, he did not react so, though no doubt he was alarmed as the snake slithered up the lance, up his arm, and wound herself three times around his neck, biting her own tail to hold herself in place. ‘Do not be frightened,’ she said to him.”
Claire huffed out a breath. “And how is she talking if she’s biting her own tail?”
Evgeni laughed. “A maiden in a fire who turns into a snake, and that is the part you take issue with?”
“Well, obviously she was enchanted. But I don’t know why that would allow her to talk around her tail.”
“Can you not talk with your mouth full?” Evgeni bit his finger and said around it, “Do not be frightened.” Garbled, but understandable.
Nadya rested her forearms against the shelf and looked around the rest of the dismal little shop.
Claire sighed. “Very well. Rude but not utterly incomprehensible. Go on.”
The sound of rustling paper indicated Evgeni was rewrapping the food. “She went on to say that if he carried her around his neck for seven years and looked for the tin kingdom, and then stayed in that kingdom for seven more years, he would find true happiness.”
“Ah! Her kingdom, I suppose?”
“No, actually. I am not sure whose kingdom it was.” His frown was audible in his voice.
Claire’s laugh was a bit too loud this time, and a board creaked above them. No doubt the father would be coming down to see what she found so amusing. “Why tin, then?” she asked.
Nadya peeked through the shelves again and watched him shrug. “Let us call it a mystery. But when finally he reached it after seven long years of travel, the snake unwound from his neck, leapt to the ground as the beautiful maiden again, and then promptly disappeared. He went inside the walls of the castle, saw to his horse, and took a tour. It was a beautiful place—everything was silver and ivory, shades of white and grey. In the banquet hall, a feast was laid out on the table. But nowhere was a soul to be seen.”
“A feast.” Claire sighed and sagged onto her elbows on the counter. “I can scarcely remember what that would have been like.”
Now, with that Nadya could commiserate.
The creaking was moving. Evgeni fished a hand into the pocket where he’d stashed some money. “Well, he feasted every day for years. Each day, new food would appear. In the stable, there were always oats for his horse. But there were no people to be found, and the solitude began to wear on him.”
“I can imagine.” Claire wrinkled her nose.
The footsteps above them had halted. Evgeni held out his money, brows raised. “How much today?”
Instead of answering, she reached and plucked a bill and two coins from his palm.
“Claire, that is not enough.”
Idiot—why was he arguing?
“The olives are a gift, from my personal stash.” Claire grinned and put the money in the register. “Finish the story, Zhenya. Could he go a whole seven years without any human contact?”
“Well, he lost track of the days. Eventually, it drove him mad. He drank until he was drunk and decided he could take it no more. He stormed toward the nearest door—but a wall flew up in front of him.”
Claire turned back to him with a frown. “Wait. The castle stopped him from leaving?”
“At every turn. He fetched his faithful horse and tried riding out, but the gates slammed closed. He tried every door, every window, but walls rose in the place of the openings.” Evgeni was grinning, his arms swinging to demonstrate how the walls would have moved. “Our Cossack lashed out, smashing all the dishes, breaking all the decorations, shattering the mirrors. And then the next day when he came down, he found the banquet table empty. ‘It is my own fault,’ he said. ‘If I hadn’t behaved as I did yesterday, then I wouldn’t be hungry today.’ Only after he’d admitted this did food reappear.”
Another creak overhead, and this time it was quickly followed by a footfall on the wooden stairs in the back of the store. Nadya shifted, ready to slip out the open door just beside her.
The girl’s frown didn’t ease. “A fine moral, I suppose, but . . .”
“But?” Evgeni pocketed the change. “There is no but. Three days later, the fair maiden appeared to him, and all the gates were opened. She told him he had served out his time, and that he had freed her from the enchantment put upon her by an evil sorcerer who had been in love with her. She had scorned him, and he had turned her into a snake. But her parents would be so overjoyed at her freedom that her father, a king, would surely grant the Cossack anything he asked for.”
“No, that isn’t right at all.” Claire slapped a hand to the counter. “He didn’t serve out his time. Not willingly. The castle took the choice from him. Had it been left to him, he’d have lost it all less than a week from completion!”
Her father was at the bottom of the stairs. He’d be coming around the shelves any moment. Nadya coiled, ready to spring. Evgeni chuckled at Claire’s frustration and took a step away from the counter. “Perhaps the castle was on his side. Or perhaps it was the princess, helping him.”
“Not good enough.” Claire lifted her pretty little chin. “A man doesn’t deserve to be the hero of the tale unless he can make sound decisions on his own.”
“Well. Perhaps you will prefer his decisions in the second half of the story. Next time?”
She glanced toward the back of the shop, where her father was coming into view. Nadya took her cue and darted out the door. Though still she heard the girl say, “Next time. Bonsoir, Zhenya.”
“Bonsoir, fair maiden.” With a wink, he hurried out of the store.
He nearly collided with Nadya on the sidewalk, where she’d stopped to wait for him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He held up the parcel of food and switched his speech back to Russian. “Success.”
She pivoted on her heel. “I ought to have known you’d get it by flirting.”
He chuckled and put a hand to the small of her back—a move she’d balked at when first they met. But she’d grown used to it. Liked it, even though she’d never admit it to him. “Oh, come now. It’s not so bad, and you know it. A story for the food. A fine trade.”
It was. It was one she’d have made readily enough if the situation were reversed. And she didn’t mind too much, given how lightly the girl seemed to take it. Still. “Oh yes, I’m certain it’s the story she’s interested in.”