Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga, #2)

He didn’t meet her eyes, almost didn’t seem to be talking to her at all. She thought he was just thinking out loud, but she was wrong.

“I knew Marcus was right, you know,” the old man said abruptly. “He told me that the man I’d hired was unreliable. Flaky, he said. A stoner. Whatever. I knew, but it was hard to get people to work on boats in them days; all the kids who grew up on the water were leaving to work behind desks in the city, instead of following in their fathers’ footsteps like they used to.

“I let the man stay, so I could keep the boat running, and feed my children. Give them a livelihood they could hold on to. And my youngest son died, and I lost the older one anyway. It was all for nothing.”

Beka knew the old man wasn’t looking for sympathy, but she slid her hand over to cover one of his nonetheless. “Not for nothing,” she said. “When you needed him, Marcus came back.”

He gusted out a sigh that was lost on the freshening wind. “He did. And I thanked him by being the same grumpy bastard he ran away from in the first place. To be honest, I didn’t want his help. Didn’t feel like I deserved it. In a way, it felt like the cancer was my punishment for letting his brother die. I had nothing to lose anyway.”

Beka gave his hand a squeeze, feeling the finger bones fragile under hers. “Only now you do.” She knew how he felt.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she said softly, as the boat slowed near the spot where she would be diving. “Or what the future holds.” She laughed, only a little off key. “I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that one either. All I can tell you is that you need to make the decision that is right for you, without guilt or recrimination. I’m pretty sure that Marcus has forgiven you. Maybe it is time for you to forgive yourself.”


*

THE UNDERWATER WORLD was silent and peaceful, enfolding her in its grace and ethereal loveliness the way it always did. Kelp forests taller than a house undulated in the mischievous currents, and tiny, brightly colored fish played hide-and-seek within their welcoming fronds.

Today there were no sharks; the only enemy was invisible and much more deadly, invented by men who had no place in these waters, and brought here by one who had forever forsaken his.

Beka intended to clean up the mess he’d made.

No matter what happened after today, she needed to finish what she had started that day on the beach when Boudicca and Gwrtheyrn had asked for her help and she had given them her sacred promise in return.

So much had happened since then, she hardly felt like the same woman who had made that promise. Still, it was up to her to fulfill it, and prove—not just to the Queen of the Otherworld, but more importantly, to herself—that she had the skills and power to make her worthy of the title Baba Yaga.

She floated weightlessly in the murky perpetual twilight of the ocean, as deep as she could safely go. The bulk of the trench lay beneath her flipper-wearing feet, but if what she had in mind worked the way she intended it to, that wouldn’t matter.

From out of the waterproof bag she’d carried down with her, she pulled out the enchanted sphere she’d been up half the night creating. It looked as light and delicate as a soap bubble, but it was created from the essence of the element of Air, which could uproot huge trees and tear the roofs off of buildings when it chose to.

It would be strong enough. And so would her magic.

Beka let herself sink into a semi-trance, her breathing slowing until her heart seemed to beat in rhythm with the sea’s own pulse. Slowly, she reached her magic out and began to gather the impurities from the water around her. Like limitless fingers of light and energy, the rays of magic drew radiation out of the water and into the glistening iridescent sphere, where it took on almost a solid form, swirling and glowing. No longer bound by fatigue and self-doubt, she finally let her powers soar.

More and more she pulled, from farther and farther away, until she was gathering in not only the radiation from Kesh’s toxic canisters but also the scattered remnants of Fukushima’s disaster.

As the enchanted sphere filled, it glowed brighter and brighter, until its presence lit the ocean like a beacon of hope. In the distance, Beka saw a Mermaid floating by; she couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was the same woman who had come to her for help on that fateful day. She waved, hoping the Merwoman understood the meaning of a thumbs-up. Not that it mattered. It was already obvious that she would have good news to impart to the King of the Selkies and the Queen of the Mer when she saw them later.

She’d done it. The water below was as clean and clear as it ever had been, and the water people could return to their homes. Their long nightmare was over.


*