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 couldn’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.”