There was a moment of silence on the other end of the call. “Marcus who?” Beka asked.
The writhing snake already taking up residence in Barbara’s stomach suddenly had friends. She had a terrible feeling she was about to discover another unraveled piece.
“Former marine,” she said carefully. “Currently a fisherman. Your husband. Marcus Dermott.”
Beka laughed. “It can’t be too bad a crisis if you’re making jokes. You know perfectly well I’m not married.” Then she added in a more sober tone, “Besides, Brenna isn’t likely to want me to go. She’s currently got me working on some menial project she has me doing as one of my tests. You know how much of a stickler she is for me finishing those once I’ve started them.”
Barbara was aghast. She almost dropped the phone in her alarm, and then spoke without thinking. “What? Brenna is there? But Bella’s Chudo-Yudo Koshka killed her after she tortured the Riders and stole their immortality!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Beka sputtered. “Are you okay? Is all this nonsense supposed to be some kind of code to say you need help? Are you under an evil spell? Or have you just lost your mind?”
That one was distinctly possible. “Brenna is still a Baba Yaga, after everything she did to the Riders?” Barbara couldn’t believe her ears. Surely the Queen would have punished Brenna, even if for some reason Koshka hadn’t killed her in this timeline.
“Brenna has never done anything worse to the Riders than scold them when they showed up late,” Beka said, worry coloring her voice. “And how could you have forgotten that the Queen let Brenna come out of retirement to continue my training?”
“The Queen did what? Why?”
Beka sighed. “Brenna talked her into it after I failed to help the Selkies and the Merpeople when that mysterious illness forced them to leave their homes, and then I allowed the Water of Life and Death to be stolen out of my bus. You knew all that. I’m really starting to worry about you, Barbara.”
“Brenna stole the Water herself, and plotted with the Selkie prince Kesh to poison the Selkie and Merpeople’s home with radioactive waste,” Barbara said. But she was pretty sure she was wasting her breath. Clearly that whole situation had worked out much differently this time. “I don’t suppose I showed up when this was all going on, and gave you advice?”
She’d been on a kind of honeymoon trip with Liam and the newly adopted Babs when this happened in the real timeline, and since there was no Liam in this one, she suspected that trip had never happened. How much difference had her talk with Beka made, and how much did it matter that Barbara hadn’t been around to boost Beka’s wobbly self-confidence?
“No, of course you didn’t,” Beka said in a resigned tone. She sounded defeated, and Barbara’s chest tightened in sympathetic pain.
Brenna had spent years subtly undermining Beka’s confidence because the older woman was jealous of Beka’s youth and beauty, and hadn’t wanted to give up the power that came with being a Baba Yaga. She’d only retired once the Queen of the Otherworld had insisted on it, and now, somehow, she’d weaseled her way back into the position. And back into chipping away at Beka, bit by bit, from the sound of it.
“I’m sorry, Beka,” Barbara said. “Look, I know you won’t believe me, but you did a great job as a Baba Yaga. You’re smart and capable and kickass. Don’t let Brenna tell you otherwise.”
“You’re being almost nice. Now I know there is something wrong with you,” Beka said. But she did sound a little more cheerful. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re sounding kind of nuts.”
“It’s complicated,” Barbara said. “I promise, I’m not crazy. And I really do need to see you, if you can get away.”
It wasn’t as though Beka would have to drive across country, after all. Each of the Baba Yaga’s former huts had magical doorways that opened into the Otherworld, and they could simply make their way through from one moveable house to another (although admittedly, that journey could be long and tricky or short and easy, depending on what mood the ever-changing Otherworld was in at the time).
“I’ll see what I can do,” Beka said. She hesitated. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
“You too,” Barbara said, and ended the call. Beka had always been the most kind-hearted of the three of them. Barbara wasn’t sure it was a trait that worked well for a Baba Yaga. She was glad that she was mostly cranky and difficult to get along with—it made it a lot more challenging for anyone else to play with her head.
Not that she needed anything to do that more than this damned situation already had.
“Is everything all right?” Babs asked, her normally smooth brow creased with worry.
“Not even a little bit, sweetheart,” Barbara said. “But I think we’ve had as much bad news as we can handle in one day, so I’m going to wait and call Bella tomorrow. For now, I think we should make something nice for dinner. Good food always cheers me up.”
“Me too,” Chudo-Yudo agreed happily. “Can we have steak? I know a steak would make me feel much better.”
Barbara wasn’t sure that even a three-course, five star meal made out of chocolate would make her feel better, but she knew she needed to keep her strength up. Something told her she was going to need it.
After dinner Barbara read Babs her favorite story, The Little Prince, a tale the girl seemed to identify with for some reason, and tucked her into bed. This was normally Liam’s job when they were at home, and Barbara could tell that it was a difficult moment for Babs. For them both, if the truth be told.
Ironically, when they were on the road in the Airstream, Babs simply put herself to bed in the tidy sleeper cot that swung down from its hiding spot in the ceiling, and had from the very beginning. She had always been incredibly independent, no doubt because she’d mostly had to take care of herself during her years in the Otherworld living with an only sporadically sane woman to act as her parent. Babs had seemed perfectly content to continue her pattern of self-sufficiency, which suited Barbara—not the most maternal of women—to a tee.
Liam, on the other hand, had thrown himself into fatherhood with obvious enthusiasm, and Babs had indulged him, at first tolerating his ministrations with barely-disguised discomfort, but eventually coming to enjoy them as much as he did. Reading to her in bed had been his idea, as had tucking her in, even when she grew old enough that the action was more figurative than literal.
Barbara wasn’t sure what moved her to take over his role that night, despite their being in the trailer, where they didn’t normally bother with such things. She supposed she’d hoped it would bring them both some comfort. She wasn’t sure she’d succeeded, although she had gotten a tiny smile when she’d given Babs her customary hair tug.
Once the girl was asleep, Barbara turned down the lights and went to stand by the window that looked out on the meadow. A nearly full moon shone brightly on the field and road, empty of life other than whatever small creatures roamed in the night. No shaggy-haired former sheriffs appeared out of the darkness, although she watched for over an hour.
Chudo-Yudo eventually came and stood next to her, leaning his warm bulk comfortingly against her leg. His weight almost knocked her over, but it was still a sweet gesture.
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” he complained—quietly, so as not to wake up Babs. “But I’m sorry you’re sad.”
“Thank you, old friend,” Barbara said, in an equally quiet voice. “I’m afraid sad doesn’t even begin to cover it, but thank you.”
They stood there in silence for a while. No one came. Barbara wasn’t sure why she’d though someone might. Too many fairy tales in her formative years, perhaps, complete with charming princes and miraculous love stories. She’d gotten that once, against all expectations. It was probably too much to hope for that she would get it again.
“You were really married?” Chudo-Yudo said finally. “To a Human?” He clearly found the concept nearly impossible to wrap his head around. Barbara didn’t blame h
im. If you’d suggested such a thing before she met Liam, she would probably have laughed. Or cold-cocked you.
“I was. I am.” She twisted her dragon ring around on her finger. No matter what happened, she was definitely still married. “I know this all seems crazy to you, since it doesn’t match up with any of your memories. As far as I can tell, Babs and I are the only ones not affected by the magic that rewrote the timeline, probably because we were at ground zero when it all blew up.” The thought that Liam might not even recognize her when he saw her made her heart clench in her chest. She’d once been gnawed on by a pack of hyenas. It had been less painful than this.
“Would you mind keeping an eye on Babs? I want to go out for a while.”
Chudo-Yudo raised one furry eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead he simply walked across the Airstream and plopped himself down heavily underneath Babs’ bed. After a moment, he produced a large meaty bone out of a nearby cupboard, and settled down to gnaw on it in a desultory fashion.
Barbara let herself out of the trailer and set off on the motorcycle in perfect silence, not even disturbing the fox and her cubs that were out on an evening stroll. Magic had its advantages.
Drawn like a moth to the flame, Barbara followed the tugging of her heart as if it were an invisible string that connected one broken half to the other. A series of back country roads eventually brought her to a small house with black shutters and an uncut lawn. In the driveway, there was a familiar truck that bore an unfamiliar sign. It read: Liam McClellan, Handyman. No job too small or too large.
She parked the bike by the side of the road and walked on soundless boots to stand about three feet outside the house. From her vantage point, she could see into the living room, where the only man she had ever loved sat in a battered old recliner, watching a ball game and drinking a beer. His hair had gotten too long again, and to her eyes he seemed worn and sad.
Barbara wanted more than anything to open the door and walk inside, into this house he had once shared with a wife who betrayed him, where he now sat without solace in his sorrow and his loss. She had saved him from that once, but she didn’t know how to save him from it now. So instead, she simply stood outside and watched him, and loved him with every atom of her being, until the light went out and she was left alone in the dark.
Chapter Five
Babs and Barbara were sitting at the kitchen table picking at a breakfast that neither of them really felt like eating when there was a knock at the door. Barbara’s heart skipped a beat, but then she realized that Liam had no reason to know she was here, much less care enough to come by.
When she opened the door, she saw Belinda instead, clad in her unbecoming uniform and trying to look stern and official.
“Good morning,” Barbara said. “This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”
Belinda coughed. “I’m afraid I’ve been sent to tell you that you can’t park here without a permit, Doctor Yager. Any more than you could the last time you came to town.”
Barbara would have resented the implication that she hadn’t learned from experience, except of course that it was true. She’d been so preoccupied yesterday, she hadn’t even thought about that stupid permit. Mind you, now that she had, it was easy enough to deal with. She put one hand behind her back and made an arcane gesture or three.
“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” she said lightly. “I think if you check into it, you’ll find that all the correct paperwork is in place.”
“I’ll have to wait until I get back to town,” Belinda said. “There’s no cell service out here and even the radio in the police car doesn’t usually work.” As if to call her a liar, the radio squawked and Nina’s voice came through, announcing that the permit had been found, never mind.
Déjà vu.
“Since you came all the way out here, would you like a cup of tea?” Barbara had a sneaking suspicion there was more behind this visit than a missing piece of paperwork. Her tea wasn’t exactly a truth serum, but it did tend to encourage the people who drank it to speak whatever was on their minds, eventually. Another twitch of her fingers set the kettle to boiling on a previously cold stove.
“I suppose I could take my break now,” Belinda said. She walked back to her car and spoke briefly into the handset, then took off her hat and entered the trailer cautiously.
“Wow,” she said, looking around. “This isn’t at all what I expected. It’s…cozy. And surprisingly luxurious, at least by my standards, although I’m the first to admit that my idea of decorating is to toss an old quilt on top of the sofa to make it look less ratty. I’ve seen some RVs in my time, but none of them looked anything like this.”
Barbara’s lips twitched up in a tiny smile. Most people had a similar reaction when they entered expecting the usual staid colors and man-made fabrics and were greeted by rich brocades, velvet, and silk instead, in vivid jewel tones that set off the cherry and walnut cabinets. But this was her home—at least it had been before she created one with Liam, and was again for however long it took to fix this mess—and she liked a place with comfort and class.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m quite fond of it.” She patted the nearest wall, and the slightest vibration, almost like a purr, rippled through the space.
Belinda looked startled. “Did you feel that?”
“Oh, that’s just the wheels settling as the day heats up,” Barbara said, and gestured to the table, which had miraculously been cleared of the debris from breakfast. Babs looked quite proud of herself, although there was a suspicious hint of toast crumbs around Chudo-Yudo’s mouth to suggest he’d helped on a non-magical level. “Come sit down and I’ll get the tea.”
“Hello,” Belinda said to Babs, sliding into the banquette seat. “I’m Deputy Shields. Is that your dog? He is very handsome.”
Babs glanced at Barbara, clearly struggling with how to treat someone who was usually a friend as if she was a complete stranger. Barbara winked at her, and nodded.
“He is very handsome,” Babs agreed solemnly. “But Barbara says if you tell him that, he will get a swelled head, and that his head is already large enough. He is not my dog, though. It is more like I am his girl.”
“I have a cat,” Belinda said. “That makes perfect sense to me. Is it okay if I pet him? I like dogs.”
“How do you feel about dragons?” Babs asked in her usual serious tone.
Belinda blinked. “Uh, they’re cool, I guess.”
Chudo-Yudo rose gracefully to his feet like a mountain deciding it was tired of staying in one place, and considerately moved himself into the perfect position for an ear scratch.
“Holy crap, he really is large,” Belinda blurted. Chudo-Yudo often had that effect on people. But she reached out and petted him anyway.
Barbara put three mugs of tea on the table, with lots of extra milk in Babs’ cup. An equally milky brew was placed in a bowl on the floor in front of the dragon-dog.
“Your dog drinks tea?” Belinda said. “That’s unusual.”
“He’s an unusual dog,” Barbara said.
Belinda glanced around. “I suspect there isn’t much about you that isn’t unusual.” She looked at Babs thoughtfully. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“She’s home schooled,” Barbara said. “Well, technically trailer schooled at the moment, I suppose. This is Babs. And Chudo-Yudo.”
The dragon-dog woofed.
“He says hello,” Babs translated.
Belinda looked a bit bemused. “Hello, Chudo-Yudo. You know, my mother used to tell me stories from Russia that had a dragon in them with that same name.”
“Isn’t that a coincidence,” Barbara said blandly.
“So, Babs,” Belinda said, obviously trying to find some more normal topic of conversation. “What is your favorite subject?”
As always, Babs gave the question some serious thought before answering. “Magic. Well, perhaps mathematics. I am very good at math. So magic and math are both my favorites.”
&n
bsp; “Magic and math,” Belinda repeated, blinking rapidly as she digested that. “You would get along well with my mother. She was a scientist when she was younger, back in Russia. She’s very good at math too. And she loves stories about magic, especially the ones from the Old Country.”
“Like the stories with Chudo-Yudo,” Babs said in an approving tone. “Those are good stories.”
Barbara took pity on Belinda, who bore the slightly confused look of someone who has wandered into a fairy tale when she was expecting a nice safe detective novel.
“How is your mother?” Barbara asked. “I was sorry when you told me she’d had some health problems.” Babs looked concerned at this, but Barbara just shook her head and the girl subsided.
“She’s well,” Belinda said. “Frailer than she used to be, before…before everything happened.” Mary Elizabeth’s name hung in the air, unsaid, like the smoke from a burned out fire. “In fact, my mother is part of the reason I came out here.”
“Is that so?” Barbara said, picking up the teapot. “Here, have a little more tea.”
“It’s very good,” Belinda said. “What kind is it?”
“Russian caravan,” Barbara said with the hint of a smile. “Appropriate, isn’t it? Now, what were you saying about your mother?
“I happened to mention you to her at dinner last night,” the deputy said. “I told you my parents lived with me now, right?”
Barbara nodded.
“Anyway, my mother seemed quite intrigued by what I told her about you and the Airstream and everything, and she was kind of upset that she hadn’t gotten a chance to meet you when you were in town last year. Maybe it’s the Russian connection, I’m not sure.” Belinda shrugged. “I told her you only had a slight accent, so you probably hadn’t been there in years, but she was still quite adamant about getting to see you. I’m not sure why, but she hasn’t shown this much interest in anything since her heart attack…” her voice trailed off.
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