“So you’re in charge of the Committee?” the woman asked in a broken, husky voice. “You’re younger than I expected you to be. A mere puppy. So … tell me you haven’t already sent aces to Talas. Tell me that we can still decide who to send and where to send them in order to end this.”

Baba Yaga’s harsh gaze impaled Barbara, and even though she thought her face would betray nothing, the woman on the bed gave a sigh and closed her eyes, her head turning on the pillow. When Baba Yaga spoke again, it was in Russian this time, and Barbara closed her eyes momentarily to release the wild card ability within her, putting Franny within the bubble of understanding while leaving the guards outside, though she knew some of them obviously spoke the language. “Ah, they’ve already gone. You’re stupid as well as young, then. You’ve lost them, haven’t you?”

“Our contact with the team has become … erratic,” Barbara admitted, knowing that Baba Yaga would hear it as if she’d spoken fluent Russian. The old woman’s eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn’t expected Barbara to understand anything she’d said, then she laughed. Against the wall, Franny cocked his head, listening intently.

“You speak my language like a native,” Baba Yaga said. Barbara shrugged; she didn’t correct the woman’s misapprehension. “You’ve lost them, your team,” Baba Yaga repeated.

Barbara ignored that comment, though she felt the growing knot inside her stomach, her fear of what had happened with Klaus, the horror of what she’d seen and heard only a few hours before. “Officer Black tells me that you know this person called Hellraiser, and that he’s the one causing the disturbance in Talas.”

Now the old woman’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “Disturbance, you call it? That’s what you would call the possible end of the world, eh? A fucking disturbance?”

“I’d call it hyperbole to be talking about the end of the world,” Barbara answered, and again the old woman cackled mockingly.

“Oh, you are an idiot,” Baba Yaga answered. “Believe me, it’s not hyperbole, just the raw truth.” Barbara shivered involuntarily, hearing that. She tried to read the old woman’s craggy face, tried to pretend that Baba Yaga was lying, but she found she couldn’t believe that. Those wrinkle-snared eyes stared at her, and through the scorn and derision, Barbara thought she saw a faint glimmer of sympathy. Klaus, what have I sent you into? Why didn’t you let me go with you? Why didn’t I insist? Please be alive. Please stay alive.

“Officer Black said—” Barbara began again, but Baba Yaga cut her off.

“Francis is afraid. He should be. We all should be afraid.” Baba Yaga sniffed. “I have something you must listen to. Cassette tapes.” Her rheumy gaze slid over to Franny. “Go bring us a cassette player, boy,” she spat.

Franny’s scowl deepened. “Give me the money to buy it, bitch,” he answered.