*
BACK AT THE bus, Beka and Chewie stared at the radiant globe on the table between them. It pulsed and shone as if a shard of the sun had been captured within it, looking so glorious it was hard to believe its contents offered death instead of life.
“So that’s it,” Chewie said, sounding pensive. “Mission accomplished. Day saved. Live to fight another battle. And like that.”
“Pretty much,” Beka said, trying to muster up the appropriate enthusiasm. “All I have to do is take that through to the Otherworld, make my report to the Queen, then go tell Boudicca and Gwrtheyrn it is safe for them to go home. Then life gets back to normal.”
“Great,” Chewie said.
“Yeah. Great.” She sighed.
“So, no more long days stuck out on the boat with Marcus and his father,” Chewie added. “You must be so relieved.” She couldn’t decide if he was being sarcastic or not. With dragons, it was often hard to tell.
“Right. Definitely.” She thought about no more days filled with overlarge fishermen, bantering arguments, or sacks full of coins handed over to wily curmudgeons. No more teasing Kenny about his freckles, or listening to Chico brag in loving detail about his large family back home in Mexico. No salty breezes blowing through her hair as she sat on the bow with Marcus next to her, telling her ridiculous stories of the fish that got away to make her laugh. No watching hazel eyes turn from brown to green to amber in the midday sun as they hauled in nets or polished the fittings or sat in the dinghy waiting to be picked up by the Wily Serpent on its way back in to dock.
No, she wasn’t going to miss any of that at all.
“I think we should go away,” Beka said abruptly. “After all, Baba Yagas are supposed to travel around. What’s the point of living in a bus if you always stay in one place?”
“But I thought you hated moving around all the time,” Chewie said, his furry face perplexed. “You were ecstatic when Brenna finally settled us here for a while. And Baba Yagas travel when they get a magical summons that tells them they are needed somewhere. Did you get a vibe and not tell me?”
“No,” Beka said. “No vibe. I just thought it might be good to have a change of scenery.” She didn’t know if she could face staying here without Marcus nearby. Once his father was gone—one way or the other—Marcus would be gone too. He’d told her from the start that he’d never intended to stay. As soon as his father no longer needed him, he would be on his way to whatever his life held next, leaving the Bay just too empty for Beka to contemplate.
There was no way she was going to try and explain all that to Chewie though. It sounded crazy even to her. Who knew love made so little sense? No wonder Humans wrote all those sad songs about it. From now on, she was sticking to paranormal creatures and meaningless trysts. It was a lot easier on the heart.
“I’m going to go get changed so I can visit the Queen,” she said, jumping up from the table. “I won’t be able to relax until I’ve gotten through my obligatory visit without being turned into something with feathers, scales, or thorns.”
“There’s nothing wrong with scales,” Chewie called after her as she walked toward the bedroom. “And don’t forget to take your Orb o’ Death with you—that thing gives me the willies.”
*
BEKA BREATHED A sigh of relief as she stepped back through the closet that hid the doorway between the Human realm and the Otherworld. Tiny purple sparkles swirled around her feet as she crossed the border, and high-pitched giggles like silvery wind chimes followed her for a moment before disappearing into the distance. She shut the door behind her and put her back against it. She had the utmost respect for the Queen of the Otherworld—but holy crap, that was one scary lady.
Still, the Queen and her consort had seemed quite pleased with Beka’s report and her solutions to the problem. The Queen had even invited her to stay for high tea, an hours-long ritual involving dozens of stunningly beautiful ladies-in-waiting in gauzy dresses, exotic tea blends served in elaborately bejeweled golden teapots and poured into porcelain cups so delicate you could see through them, and dainty cakes so light that occasionally one simply floated away.
Beka rather enjoyed the spectacle of it all, basking in the Queen’s rare approval, but in the end she was happy to return home without having broken anything or spilled bright crimson jam onto her white lace court dress with its low neckline, flowing sleeves, and tiny embroidered flowers. Other than a small mishap with a couple of errant cloth rosebuds that forgot they were merely decorative in the heady atmosphere of the Otherworld, she’d come through the entire experience no worse for wear.