Wickedly Wonderful

by Deborah Blake

  Marcus Senior shook his head. “You’re as big a fool as I am, boy,” he said in a marginally quieter voice. “I lost your mother because I was too prideful to go after her when she left. Don’t you make the same mistake I did. That Beka, she’s one in a million. Even I like her, and that’s saying something.”

  Chico snorted into his mustache. Marcus glared at them both.

  “She’s gone, and she’s not coming back. You’d better just get used to the idea.” Like he would—any day now. “And in the meantime, you still need a new net, and I’m going to go get you one. So you’d better get used to that idea too.”

  The old man opened his mouth, but Marcus didn’t wait around to see what he had to say, striding off to the front of the boat and taking the wheel to steer them back into shore. The sooner he got off this boat and away from his father, the better. There was a beer at the Cranky Seagull with his name on it. And if there was any luck left in his life at all, it would have brought plenty of its relatives.

  TWENTY

  “BEKA. BEKA. YOU should get up and see this.”

  Chewie’s voice was like a hammer beating against the anvil of her headache. The sun peeking through the blinds provided the flames for the forge. She wasn’t asleep; hadn’t slept much at all, lately. Some of it was worry, of course. And feeling like crap. But most of it was missing Marcus like crazy.

  You would think they’d been together forever, the way she missed him, instead of just spending a couple of weeks on the same boat, and one brief moment of passion together. Before it all blew up in her face. And yet, she ached for him. Half a dozen times in the last couple of days, she’d almost swallowed her pride and gone to him. Begged him to listen. To understand. But what was the point? They came from two different worlds. There was no way their separate stories could share the same ending.

  “Beka.” Sharp teeth tugged at the long tee shirt she slept in. “Are you getting up? There’s something on TV you need to see.”

  Beka brushed away tears with a hand that shook and tried to paste a disgruntled expression on her face as she rolled over to face her dragon-dog. “Fine, I’m coming. But if this is another rerun of The Lord of the Rings, I don’t want to hear about how Smaug isn’t really a bad guy at heart.”

  Chewie shook his massive head, not at all convinced by her show of normalcy, but clearly willing to let it slide. For now, anyway.

  “No, it’s the local news. Not nearly as much fun as Lord of the Rings, but almost as educational.”

  Beka forced herself to get out of bed, ignoring her pounding head and churning stomach. She followed Chewie into the living room, where the TV showed a chipper blond weather girl predicting warm weather and no rain. What a surprise. Beka spun her hand counterclockwise, and the scene on the television rewound slowly.

  “Stop there!” Chewie demanded, settling down on his haunches.

  Beka snapped her fingers, and the picture started moving forward again at normal speed, showing the news from a few minutes before. A perky female reporter, nearly identical to the one who’d been doing the weather, stood on a dock with a microphone and an intently serious expression.

  “We have multiple reports of odd occurrences out here at the harbor,” she said, showing a lot of very white teeth and very tanned cleavage. “Some of the fishermen have told me that their nets are being chewed up and destroyed in a way that none of them has ever seen before. A couple of men I talked to claim to have seen mythical creatures, such as Mermaids or sea serpents, and one even insisted that some kind of mysterious force is responsible for this season’s poor fishing.”

  “Gee, Kelly, that all sounds pretty far-fetched,” the anchorman back at the station said. “Have you seen anything unusual yourself?”

  Kelly shook her head, although her hair didn’t move at all. “No, Bob, I haven’t. But these guys are mostly experienced fishermen, and as tough as old nails. It is unusual to see them this rattled. And I did see one of the nets they were talking about, and it did kind of look like something had chewed on it.”

  “So, Kelly, do you think we are dealing with some kind of sea monster out there in the beautiful Monterey Bay? Could these fishermen be onto something?” The anchorman’s cheery demeanor made it sound like someone was about to declare a new national holiday.

  “Well, Bob, this is California, so anything is possible,” Kelly said, the sun nearly blinding as it bounced off her teeth. “But Mermaids? Really?” She smiled at the camera as if inviting the audience in on the joke. “I think it’s more likely that they’re on something than onto something. But I’ll let you know if I run into a talking dolphin. Back to you, Bob.”

  Beka scowled so hard at the television, smoke started seeping out the back. Chewie hurriedly hit the “off” button with his paw.

  “Gah,” she said, stomping off to the kitchen to make tea. “I guess it is a little too late to try and get Marcus’s father to warn the other fishermen to watch out for things that are odd and dangerous.”

  “I’d say so.” Chewie looked slightly depressed under all his fur. “What are you going to do now?”

  Besides kiss my career as a Baba Yaga good-bye? Beka sniffed the rejuvenating tea, slightly scented with the blue roses that formed its base. It seemed like her stomach was always upset these days, but the magical tea still made her feel a little bit better. It didn’t do anything to help the fatigue that had suddenly started to make her feel as though gravity was heavier wherever she happened to be standing, but she blamed that on the sleepless nights and too much diving. If she’d been fully Human, she would have suspected the flu. But Babas didn’t get sick.

  Too bad the same thing didn’t apply to being lovesick.

  She sighed. “I guess I’ll try some more magical work to see if I can get a better idea of what is at the bottom of the poisoning problem. And track down all the paranormal creatures I know, so I can ask them if they’ve heard or seen anything of our mystery renegade. I’ll be happy when the Riders get here.”

  Chewie suddenly picked up his head and gave a reasonably doglike woof.

  “Timmy in the well again?” Beka asked sarcastically.

  “Someone at the door,” Chewie said. “Or at least there was.”

  Beka didn’t know if it was just her pounding head, or if the damned dragon was making even less sense than usual. But she made her way over to the door anyway and swung the handle to open it.

  She looked out, but all she saw was an empty parking lot and a view of the sea across the road. Damn. Just for a moment, she’d thought that maybe Marcus had come to apologize. As if that was ever going to happen.

  “There’s no one here, Chewie,” she said.

  He woofed again, and knocked something over that had been leaning next to the door. It was a huge bunch of roses, orchids, and lilies in various shades of dainty pink and blushing peach. Not exactly her colors, but very pretty in a completely over-the-top kind of way. The overpowering odor made her stomach flip-flop, or maybe that was due to a momentary spurt of hope. Seconds later, though, she realized that Marcus wasn’t the flower-giving type.

  “There’s a note,” Chewie pointed out helpfully. “Are they from the sailor?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she said, disappointment making her crabby. She looked at the note. “They’re from Kesh.”

  “Oh. Swell.” Chewie scowled. “Put them back on the ground. I’ll pee on them.”

  Beka rolled her eyes. “You will do no such thing. I told you he’s had some sort of falling-out with his family. He’s just lonely and needs a friend.”

  “He needs to leave you alone. You’re busy.”

  Beka ignored him and read the note out loud. If she didn’t, the dragon would just bug her until she told him what was in it anyway.

  “Dearest Beka,” the note read. “These flowers are but a pale reflection of your beauty, but I hope you will accept them as a token of my regard. I have missed you these past days, and it is my fervent hope that you will honor me with your presen
ce at dinner tonight. I will be on the beach at the usual place, eagerly waiting for you to join me and put the moon to shame with the glow of your smile. Yours, Kesh.”

  Chewie made gagging noises. Loudly.

  “Oh hush, you,” Beka said, secretly agreeing with him. She really wasn’t the flattery type either. Maybe that’s why she’d liked Marcus so much; he’d never tried to flatter her. Or said anything nice at all, for the most part. It was kind of restful.

  “You’re not going to go, are you?” Chewie asked, following her back inside. “You have mysteries to solve and a bad guy to track down. You don’t have time to waste on Prince Not-As-Charming-As-He-Thinks-He-Is.”

  Beka stood with the flowers in her hands, trying to figure out where she could put them where they wouldn’t stink up the place. Finally, she opened the door to the Otherworld and tossed them inside, before the smell could make her throw up. Some pixie would love them. Hell, considering the size of the bouquet, a whole tribe of pixies.

  “I need to talk to him anyway about this renegade issue. He must know something about it.” She tried again to ignore that nagging voice that said he’d already admitted to working against the Human fishermen. A few childish pranks didn’t make him a villain.

  * * *

  A COUPLE OF hours later, there was a brisk knock on the door. Beka looked up from studying an ancient tome on magic and almost dropped the priceless relic on the floor when the door clattered open to reveal a plump woman with long, frizzy, gray-streaked hair and a brightly flowered tunic over puffy-legged tie-dyed pants. Multiple lengths of colorful beaded necklaces were tangled around her neck, and the scent of patchouli preceded her like a trumpeter announcing her presence.

  “Hello, sweetie,” Brenna said, sailing into the room. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in, but it still seems strange to be knocking on my own door.” She gave a trilling laugh, looking around the place with a critical eye.

  “Goodness, you’ve changed a few things around, haven’t you?” Pursed lips suggested a marked lack of approval. “Where are all my throw pillows? The place looks positively drab.”

  Beka lowered the book with a sigh and tried to muster up some enthusiasm for this unexpected visit. Brenna had raised her, after all, and taught her everything she knew. Beka was pretty sure that meant she should be happy to see her old mentor. So why could she feel her stomach knotting and her shoulders hunching?

  “Hello, Brenna. This is a surprise,” Beka said. “Last I’d heard, you were off enjoying your retirement in some tropical corner of the Otherworld.” She got up and went over to Brenna. They didn’t hug. For all her earth-mother exterior, Brenna didn’t do hugs. “Can I get you some tea?”

  “Stand up straight, dear,” Brenna said, settling herself into a chair. “And yes, thank you, something herbal, please.”

  “I hear nightshade is a nice herb,” a low voice growled from behind the couch. Chewie sauntered into view and gave Brenna a slit-eyed look. “How about some of that?”

  The gray-haired woman chuckled. “Oh, Chewie, you always did love to tease me. I’ve missed you.” A flitting glance bounced over to where Beka stood, juggling mugs and a bottle of honey. “You, too, of course, sweetie.”

  “Of course,” Beka murmured. She handed Brenna a steaming cup of tea and sat down nearby with her own.

  “What are you doing here, Brenna?” Chewie asked with his usual bluntness. With an equal lack of subtlety, he settled onto the floor at Beka’s feet, making it clear that his loyalties lay with the current Baba, not the old one.

  Brenna merely raised an eyebrow, clearly unaffected. “I’m checking in on Beka; I would have thought that was obvious. I heard that she was having some difficulty dealing with her first big task, and I thought I’d just pop in to see if there was anything I could do to help. Offer support and encouragement, you know, that kind of thing.”

  Chewie snorted and Brenna pressed her lips together until they made a thin red line. “If you’re going to be unpleasant, dear, why don’t you go take a walk? Beka and I have Baba Yaga business to discuss. Your presence is not required.” She made a shooing motion.

  Beka opened her mouth to protest, but the dog just shrugged his massive shoulders and muttered, “I need some fresh air anyway. I forgot how much I hated the smell of patchouli oil.” He gave Brenna a measured look. “I won’t be gone long. I’m assuming this won’t be a lengthy visit.”

  Beka’s head swung back and forth between her mentor and her dragon-dog. How had she never noticed before how much they disliked each other? She sighed, wishing Chewie was staying, but knowing that she had to be able to face her predecessor on her own.

  “So,” Beka said when the door had swung shut with a particularly sarcastic clang, “who told you I was having problems?”

  Brenna waved one hand languidly through the air, her many rings flashing. “Oh, sweetie, everybody knows. The paranormal community here, people back at the Queen’s court; it’s not exactly a secret now, is it?” She reached out and patted Beka’s arm. “You mustn’t feel bad. Everyone knows you’re trying your best. Nobody blames you for failing. You’re just in over your head.”

  Beka’s stomach knotted even tighter, and she hoped she wasn’t going to add to the ignominy of the situation by throwing up on the floor at her mentor’s feet. She pulled her arms in and wrapped them protectively around her middle. “I haven’t failed yet, Brenna,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “There’s still time for me to find the answers that will allow me to fix the situation.”

  “Of course there is, sweetie. After all, the water people don’t reach their weakest point until the night of the full moon, when the tides pull hardest against their magic. That’s probably when most of the really sick ones will start to die, and you’ve still got days until then.”

  Brenna peered over at the stack of books Beka had been desperately searching through before Brenna arrived. “Oh dear. You’re still doing research? I thought for certain you would have found the cause of the problem by now and been working on a cure.” She made a tutting noise with her tongue, shaking her frizzy head before slurping more tea.

  Beka bit her lip. She hated more than anything to ask, but clearly, she didn’t have any choice. “Brenna, do you think you could help me? You have so much more experience than I do. I’m certain if we worked together—”

  Brenna’s sad laugh echoed through the bus, making a set of wind chimes peal a discordant tune. “Oh dear, you know the High Queen has forbidden me to take on any Baba Yaga duties. I’m sure she wouldn’t approve at all of me helping you out.”

  Beka’s shoulders drooped even further. She hadn’t really expected a different answer, but it had been worth a try, with so many people depending on her to get this right.

  “Oh,” she said. “Probably not. I understand.”

  Brenna tapped one finger against her lips thoughtfully. “You know, there might be one solution . . . but no, it wouldn’t be fair to even ask you to consider it.”

  “What?” Beka sat up a little straighter at the thought that there might be something she could do. “Tell me what it is? I’d do anything to help the Selkies and the Merpeople.” Not to mention the Human fishermen, but she didn’t think Brenna would be impressed by that. She’d never been all that fond of Humans, for all that she’d been born one of them.

  “Well . . . you could give up being the Baba Yaga. I know you’ve been having second thoughts lately about whether or not to continue on, and if you left the position open, then the Queen would have no choice but to let me come back and take up my mantle again.” She smiled brightly at Beka. “I’m sure I could find a solution in no time if I was allowed to do so.”

  Beka’s head was buzzing, filled with confusion and doubt. How did Brenna even know that Beka had been thinking of giving up being a Baba? Did everyone know? Was that the only choice she had left—the only way to save the water folk? Surely there was some other option. But right this very minute, she c
ouldn’t think of what that might be.

  Brenna put her mug down on the table with a decisive click that sounded like a death knell. “I should be on my way, sweetie. Things to do, people to enchant, you know how it is. If you want to get in touch with me, simply send out a magical call; I won’t be far away. You just think over what I said. I’m sure you’ll do what’s best. That’s how I raised you.”

  Beka wasn’t sure how long she sat there after Brenna left, huddled on the couch with her knees drawn up to her chest and her hands over her face. Her own breath seemed too loud in the silent bus, but her thoughts were even louder. Give up. Don’t give up. Give up. Don’t give up.

  When Chewie came back, she didn’t even bother to raise her head. She was just so tired.

  “I take it the reunion was less than a shining success,” the dog said in a grumpy tone as he plopped down next to her. The couch groaned in protest. “I knew I should have stayed.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference,” Beka said. She sighed as she straightened out her cramped legs. “Your being here wouldn’t have changed the truth of what she said to me. Everyone knows I’m failing as a Baba Yaga, and it isn’t fair to the Selkies and the Merpeople.”

  “Oh, for the love of—” A thin stream of smoke slid out of Chewie’s nostrils and curled in an undeserved halo around his head. “You don’t seriously believe that, do you? Shit. I knew that woman was going to undermine your confidence, just the way she always did. I should have stayed and eaten her.”

  Beka was so shocked she almost fell off the couch. “Chewie! A Chudo-Yudo can’t eat a Baba Yaga—that’s just wrong!”

  “She’s an ex–Baba Yaga,” the dragon muttered. “And it might be wrong, but I still think I should have done it. Look at how much she upset you.”

  Beka gave him a halfhearted smile. “You can’t go around eating everyone who upsets me, Chewie. If nothing else, you’d get indigestion.”

  He woofed at her, licking her face affectionately. “It would be worth it. Besides, I know a really good cure for indigestion. Works for discouragement too.”