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Before he had time to think about it, the loud clattering sound of crockery came from the kitchen, much different from the usual muted fuss. When he entered the house, an unusual scene materialized before him: the plates were swashing in the sink like young ladies in the waterfall splashes, putting under water one side or the other. And for many years it was the first time when he could see again the drawing on the plates he made once himself.

No, no, you can’t think about it, Koschei was trying to convince himself not to show his weakness to the unknown guest who immediately won the attention of all his housemates. What if all these are his enemies intrigues? Otherwise, why is she so brave? And Koschei frowned again. But he admitted to himself that he liked to observe a beautiful pattern appearing on the plates.

The teapot was pushing a Gorynych’s favourite metal mug of just boiled brew with her big belly. The spoon immediately jumped into the mug of her own will and began dancing around the bottom in the Spanish manner, stirring the brew, the smell of which spread throughout the kitchen. The dusters seemed to follow the spoon and went dancing, seizing the moment of the sudden owner’s kindness. And it turned out that the walls had their pattern too, just like the floors and… a hall?! Wow, they got even there!

Meanwhile, Hope surprisingly quickly got her bearings in the forest house and went back singing with a mug of brew in her hands that looked more like a small pail. Brooms, scoops and mops were fussing upon her heels,  leaving a train of cleanliness. In a hurry, one of the brooms stepped on Koschei's foot, quickly nodded «Excuse me!» without any fear or embarrassment and, as if nothing had happened, continued her way. 

Well, that’s a bit of a cheek, Koschei resented. But for some reason he didn’t dare to stop them all. In these letter days, all his thoughts were focused on how to keep his terrible secrets, and what to do with himself during the eternity he should spend. It seemed to him that there could be nothing more terrible than eternity, when there’s nothing to do but fight with intruders, who wished him dead.

 

 

Chapter 3