Then Rin looked at the food in the steaming bowl, the chunks of meat floating in the thick broth giving off a coppery, metallic scent that made his nose wrinkle.
He pushed the bowl away slightly with one small hand and said in a calm, steady voice that carried far more weight than his twelve-year-old frame suggested,
"You expect me to eat this food made from human parts?"
The words hung in the air like a blade.
Baba Yaga's evil smile slowly disappeared, her wrinkled lips straightening into a thin line as her amber eyes widened in shock.
In her mind, the thought raced with rising alarm:
How could he tell it was human meat?
The old woman form she had taken faltered for a moment, the illusion of the kindly grandmother cracking as her true cunning and hunger showed through.
The air in the dark, cluttered hut grew heavier, the hanging bones and jars of floating eyes seeming to watch the scene with silent interest.
