Wickedly Wonderful

by Deborah Blake

  “I’m not sure it isn’t the same thing,” Beka muttered. “At least in this case.” But she straightened her back and faced the mirror. Behind it was the closet where her clothes hung . . . unless the door was opened in just the right way, in which case it was the entrance to a passageway that led to the Otherworld.

  It was part of a Baba Yaga’s duties to guard that doorway from use by anyone other than herself and anyone sent through from the other side. The Queen had the power to create temporary passages—like the one the parchment-bearing messenger had undoubtedly come through—but for everyone else, the only way into or out of the Otherworld was through one of these doorways.

  In the olden days, before the Otherworld had been permanently separated from the mundane plane where Humans lived, there were many places where the two worlds touched; a mortal might accidentally find himself spending a lifetime in what seemed like an hour, dancing with maidens whose unearthly beauty would haunt him forever, or a mischievous sprite could wander through to lure a passing stranger into a murky bog.

  These days, though, there were a few remaining natural entrances, all carefully safeguarded by the Queen’s handpicked protectors, and the doorways that existed inside each Baba Yaga’s travelling home.

  “It’s time, Beka,” Chewie said. “You wouldn’t want to keep the Queen waiting.”

  Goddess forbid.

  Beka took a deep breath and put her hand flat against the door in a spot precisely three inches above the crystal knob, and two inches inward. Then she sent a carefully measured pulse of energy into the living matrix of the gateway; sort of the energetic equivalent of a secret knock—two long, three short, two long. The door swung open to reveal a sparkling curtain of mystical light, like a thousand fireflies darting and glowing in a swirl of ever-changing motion.

  She formed a strong mental picture of where she wanted to go: Tir fo Thuinn, the underwater portion of the Queen’s realm, where her sea-dwelling subjects could visit in comfort. Then she gathered up her skirts and her courage and took one giant step forward.

  * * *

  A SWIRLING GRAY fog enveloped Beka as soon as she stepped through the doorway. Tiny glowing purple and gold lights flitted and flew around her, finally forming a shimmering path that led onward into the depths of the Otherworld. With each footstep, a faint musical chime resounded through the seemingly endless mists, growing louder as she moved in the direction she was meant to go.

  Slowly, plants appeared on either side of the path—bright yellow asters, daisies, and tulips, all growing higher than her head. Softly swaying ruffle-edged ferns rubbed their green borders against sparkling ebony trees draped with hanging vines that bore bejeweled fruits and, occasionally, emerald lizards whose tails were barbed and sharper than any of Beka’s swords.

  Tinkling laughter echoed from the direction of the castle grounds, and Beka wished that she could go and watch the well-dressed courtiers playing croquet upon the perfect lawn that surrounded its timeless stone walls and sky-touching spires. Unfortunately, her path led in a different direction.

  The destination at the end of her short journey looked like a vast cavern at the edge of an underground sea. It was lit by thousands of phosphorescent crystal clusters that grew out of the walls and lofty ceiling, some as tiny as her pinky, and others larger than her head. Their eerie bluish-white radiance made the water lapping at the shore look dark and mysterious and cast haunting shadows on the faces of the assembled company.

  The Mer Queen stood in her Human guise on the gleaming black sand of the beach, along with the Selkie King and a well-dressed man who looked enough like him to be one of his many children. Beka looked, but she didn’t see Kesh, either standing with the few Mer and Selkies who had assumed the two-legged form of their rulers, or among the ones who kept to their natural shapes and swam nearby in the miniature ocean.

  On a slightly raised patch of ground near the shore, the High Queen and her consort sat on ornate benches that only just missed being thrones through their lack of arms and high backs. The seats were formed from the stark white bones of some gigantic underwater creature, every inch carved with intricate detail, and adorned with pearls, shells, and jewels that twinkled dully in the dim and muted light of the cavern. The Queen sat upon a luxurious purple silk cushion, her feet resting on a matching ottoman. The King disdained such pampering and sat directly on the bench’s unyielding surface, lounging as though it were the most comfortable seat in the palace.

  The King looked powerful and impressive—his darkly handsome good looks set off by black velvets and silks, a strong nose and arched brows adding to the impression of dignity and grace. A tiny hint of a smile greeted Beka’s entrance.

  The Queen was as light as the King was dark. Long silvery-white hair was gathered in a complicated arrangement of braids atop her swanlike neck, twisted with strands of delicate pearls and silver chains dripping with diamonds. Soft pink silk, the color of a baby’s first blush, flowed in fluid layers to drape her tall, slim figure, and kissed the tips of her white fingers with pointed edges dripping with delicate lace. High cheekbones and pale translucent skin made her look as dainty and fragile as a china cup. But Beka knew better.

  “Your Majesties,” she said to the Queen and the King of the Otherworld, curtsying low the way Brenna had taught her on her first visit to court as a child. She nodded her head in the direction of the Queen of the Mer and the King of the Selkies for good measure. “Your Majesties. Greetings.”

  “Welcome, Baba Yaga,” the High Queen said in a voice like choral bells ringing. It echoed off the high ceiling and scattered a few colorful winged creatures, not quite birds, in a flutter of feathers and sharp, pointy beaks. “Thank you for coming. Queen Boudicca and King Gwrtheyrn have been enlightening Me with their woeful tales regarding the sad corruption of their watery realm that has forced them to leave their homes and endangered their citizens.” She narrowed icy amethyst eyes in Beka’s direction. “Have you news to give Us regarding the cause of this unfortunate predicament? Or better yet, some cure for this malady?”

  “Not as yet, Your Majesty.” Beka did her best to look confident as she turned toward Gwrtheyrn and Boudicca. “I assure you, I have been working on the problem every day. I haven’t found the answer, but I have eliminated a number of possibilities, and I’m sure I must be getting close.” Her heart thudded in her chest as she waited for someone to expose her as a fraud, but no one did.

  She bit her lip, seeing lines etched deep in both the royal faces that hadn’t been there when they’d first come to her for help. “Are the sick folk any better, now that you’ve moved to different waters?”

  Gwrtheyrn shook his head, his straight black hair slicked back like a seal’s short fur. “They are not, Baba Yaga. In truth, they grow worse, especially the children. They cannot eat; whatever they do take in is returned with dire results. Some are losing fur or scales, and others their hair. Their cries tear at my soul. The water people are at their weakest at the time of the full moon, when the tides pull on us most strongly, causing our two different natures to fall out of harmony. We are greatly feared that should there be no solution by the next waxing of the moon, some of the most vulnerable will succumb to this illness.”

  “Gracious, how repulsive.” The High Queen made a moue of distaste, her perfect lips curved downward. She waved one dismissive hand, obviously not interested in hearing anything more involving unpleasant physical symptoms.

  “Mortal bodies are so fragile; I do not know how you abide them. Well, I am sure that the Baba Yaga will find a solution in time.” The Queen sat up even straighter, her posture as rigid and unforgiving as her rule.

  “Unfortunately, it has come to Our attention that We have an even more pressing problem,” Queen Morena said.

  Beka felt her stomach sink down to the level of her slippers. Now what?

  Gwrtheyrn growled a little at the Otherworld Queen’s abrupt dismissal, and the suggestion that there was something more important than the w
elfare of his people, but Boudicca pressed a cautioning hand to his arm and he subsided.

  “Um, what is this new crisis, Your Majesty?” Beka asked with a growing sense of dread. She hadn’t even been able to come up with a solution for the first disaster; how the hell was she supposed to fix another one?

  “And why call us here if not to discuss our calamity at greater length?” Gwrtheyrn added, bitterness coloring his voice.

  The Queen gave him a sharp glance, clearly not liking his tone, and two of the crystal formations on the wall cracked and went dim. Overhead, a massive stalactite creaked ominously and a few of the courtiers who had accompanied the royal couple looked up anxiously before sidling unobtrusively a few feet to the left.

  “This new issue concerns your people as well, Gwrtheyrn,” she said, her incandescent purple stare circling around to include all of the Selkies and Mer in the great cavern. “You would appear to have renegades in your ranks.”

  “Renegades, Majesty?” Boudicca repeated, but Beka got the impression that the Mer Queen wasn’t entirely as taken aback as she tried to seem. “Surely not.”

  The High King shifted on his bench, no longer smiling. “Are you questioning the Queen’s word, Boudicca?” His expression grew as dark as his neatly pointed beard.

  “Certainly not, Your Highness,” Boudicca said, hurriedly dropping a curtsy and bowing her head. “I was merely expressing dismay at the thought that any of our subjects might be behaving in ways that have offended Your Majesties.”

  Nice save, Beka thought. But what the hell is going on, and why am I the one who has to fix it?

  “We have received reports,” the Queen continued, ignoring the interruption, “telling of magical creatures who are actively working against the Humans in the region. Not many, as yet, but those who are doing so are breaking Our rules, which specifically forbid malicious behavior that might draw attention to the existence of those of Us who are Other.”

  Beka swallowed hard, remembering her conversation with Kesh about how he and his friends were driving away the fish from their normal routes. Surely that wasn’t worthy of the Queen’s ire—it wasn’t as though the fishermen had blamed anything other than the weather or bad luck for their lack of good catches. And Kesh was the King’s son; there was no way he would be involved with renegades. She’d talk to him when she got home. But surely not.

  “Uh, is there some reason that you believe that there are Selkies and Mer involved?” Beka asked.

  The Queen shrugged, one elegant shoulder moving barely more than a millimeter in a rustle of silk. “Those are the tales We are told by those who remain in the mundane world. Your own mentor Brenna returned from a recent visit and spoke of a Mermaid who was spotted singing to men on a boat and trying to lure them onto the rocks, as in the days of old. And let Us speak true here—most of those remaining on that side of the doorway are Selkies and Mer, who could not come with the rest when We withdrew the majority of our people back to the safety of this world. Who else could be responsible for this disturbance?”

  “If this is so, why bring the Baba Yaga into it?” Gwrtheyrn asked, his proud face haughty and affronted. “Do you not trust us to control our own people?”

  The King held up a pacifying hand. “It is not a matter of trust, King Gwrtheyrn. But We have heard that some of these renegades may have ties high up in your government and deep into the remaining local paranormal community as well. We thought it best to have someone from the outside look into this, so you might avoid conflict within your court at a time when you need most to come together in unity.”

  “Ah,” Gwrtheyrn said, subsiding. Boudicca just looked depressed.

  “Baba Yaga,” the Queen said, standing up and speaking loudly, so that her voice rang clearly throughout the chamber. “We call on you to discover the identity and whereabouts of these troublemakers who threaten to expose the existence of the underworld dwellers in your territory, and to either put a stop to them yourself or bring the information here to Us so that We might summarily deal with them Ourselves.” The expression on her wintery visage left no doubt of the finality of her brand of justice.

  “In addition, We expect you, with no further delay, to find and resolve the problem with the Merpeople’s and Selkies’ home waters, so that they might return there in all due haste, since it is Our opinion that it is likely that the disruption to their heretofore stable lives has led to this most unwise and potentially destructive behavior.”

  The Queen drew herself up to her full height, looking even more glorious and more imposing than usual, and stared directly at Beka. “Do not fail me in this, Baba Yaga. I will not tolerate anything that threatens the safety of Our secrets, which We have sacrificed so much to keep hidden from the Humans all these long years. Have I made myself clear?”

  Beka nodded, afraid to speak. She prayed her silence would be perceived as calm strength, instead of the paralyzed abject terror that it was.

  “I realize that this is much to ask of one so young and new to her position,” the Queen said in a less oratory voice. There was even a hint of kindness, and something like regret as she added, “But this is too important to be left unresolved. If you cannot manage the tasks I have given you, I shall be forced to allow Brenna to come out of retirement to handle it.” She sighed. “I assure you, this is the very last thing I would wish; Brenna was becoming somewhat . . . problematic . . . in her later years, and it was only with great difficulty that I persuaded her to retire at all. She insisted until the very end that you were not prepared to assume the mantle of Baba Yaga. I sincerely hope that you do not prove her right.”

  With this last soul-searing statement, she held out her hand to her consort and they swept out of the cavern, their retinue trailing behind them, twittering like a tree full of sparrows at dusk.

  Beka stood stock-still, watching them go, feeling as stunned as if she had been hit by a ten-ton truck. She couldn’t be certain, but she was pretty sure that she’d just been told that her failure to fix these two crucial issues would mean the end of her days as a Baba Yaga. Until a moment ago, she would have guessed that her reaction to such an edict would have been more relief than sorrow—what a time to find out that assumption would have been wrong.

  It turned out that she wanted more than anything to succeed, and remain a Baba Yaga. Too bad it looked like that was going to be completely impossible to pull off.

  NINETEEN

  BEKA WALKED OVER to Boudicca, Gwrtheyrn, and the young man with them. They looked only slightly less shell-shocked than she did, although Beka caught the Mer Queen and Selkie King exchanging furtive glances before she reached them. She had the feeling again that they knew something about these renegades that they weren’t admitting to. Of course, with their populace in the midst of such upheaval, perhaps they were simply feeling overwhelmed, and the guilty looks were all in her imagination. Brenna had always accused her of being too quick to jump to conclusions.

  Apparently Brenna had criticized her for that and more to the Queen of the Otherworld. Wasn’t that terrific. As if Beka didn’t feel insecure enough already. She was beginning to wonder why Brenna hadn’t simply decided she’d made a mistake in taking in Beka in the first place, and started all over with a new apprentice Baba. She wondered if that was what would happen if the Queen took away her role as Baba and gave it back to Brenna.

  “Your Majesties,” Beka said. “I am so sorry to hear that the children are even sicker.” She felt just awful about that; Baba Yagas tended to be particularly protective of children, ancient tales notwithstanding. In truth, the stories of Baba Yagas “eating” children were mostly a metaphor for their removing defenseless youngsters from abusive or neglectful homes.

  “It is most upsetting, Baba,” Boudicca said. “My own grandchild, a girl not yet a year old, is sick nigh on to death. I fear greatly for her. Have you truly no idea at all what has poisoned our waters?”

  Beka hung her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. �
��I’m sure that Brenna would have solved this long ago. Perhaps the Queen was right to consider bringing her back.” What was the point of having all this power if she couldn’t help the very people who depended on her?

  To her surprise, Gwrtheyrn came to her defense. “You are too hard on yourself, Baba Yaga. After all, our own shamans and wise men could not discover the source of the toxins either, and our very best healers have been able to do nothing more than merely ease the symptoms in those affected. And they had considerably longer to work on the problem than you have. We have no complaints about your efforts on our behalf.”

  She stood up a little straighter, gratified and relieved at the same time. And even more determined to find the answer, so that Gwrtheyrn and Boudicca’s faith in her would not be proven to be misplaced.

  “Ah,” Gwrtheyrn said. “I do not believe that you have met my son and heir, Tyrus.”

  Tyrus bowed over her hand, almost as handsome and charming as his brother, but with more warmth in his gray eyes and a cheerful, almost eager demeanor, despite the dire circumstances. “I am most honored to meet you, Baba Yaga. I look forward to working together for many years to come.” He glanced at his father and grinned. “Not that I will be ascending to the throne any time in the near future; thankfully, my father is still most healthy and hale.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you too,” Beka said. “Although I wish it were under better circumstances.” She turned back to the King. “I’m surprised that Kesh didn’t tell me your people were still getting sicker. I guess because he didn’t mention it, I just assumed that they’d begun to improve once you removed them from the affected areas.”

  Gwrtheyrn stiffened and Tyrus gave him a darting look out of the corner of his eyes, keeping his face expressionless with what seemed like a conscious effort.

  “You have been speaking with my son Kesh, Baba Yaga? How did this come about?”