Gregori let out a tiny sigh. “We are concerned about Day,” he said. “He should have been here long ago, and we’ve had no word from him at all. We contacted Barbara and Bella, and neither of them has seen him. It is . . . worrisome.”
“Worrisome, yes,” Alexei said, absently chewing on the braided end of his beard. “I t’ink maybe that sonofabitch has gone and found some trouble without us. That is not right.”
That was an understatement, Beka thought. She didn’t really understand just how the Riders communicated with one another, but she’d never heard of one being lost without the others knowing where he was, and more or less what he was up to. And if Alexei said he had a bad feeling about Mikhail Day, bad enough that his accent was this thick, then he and Gregori had to be truly anxious.
“Look,” Beka said, “you guys have been a huge help. I never would have tracked down Kesh’s involvement without you. But I’m sure I can handle it from here. You two should go look for Mikhail.”
Gregori gazed at her solemnly for a moment, assessing, and then he gave a small nod, his usually expressionless face hinting at equal parts remorse and relief. “When it comes time, do not try to tackle this Kesh by yourself, Baba. Tell the Queen your suspicions and she will send her guards to assist you.”
“Um, okay,” Beka said. She had really been looking forward to bringing Kesh to the Queen, all wrapped up like a nice, tidy present. But she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to prove myself to be worthy of the title of Baba Yaga, or die trying.”
“It would be better if you didn’t die,” Alexei said seriously.
She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s a Human expression, you goofball.” She gave him a shove in the direction of his bike, but it was like trying to move a chunk of granite.
“Do not forget to use the Water of Life and Death as soon as you get back home,” Gregori added, sounding like a Russian version of Mary Poppins. “You need to be at your full strength to deal with this, and I have begun to wonder if whatever has made the Mer and Selkies sick hasn’t begun to have an effect on you as well. It would be best to be safe, and drink extra Water, just in case.”
The same thought had occurred to her, once or twice. It simply kept slipping away in the confusion of events and the muddle that was her perpetually aching head. But she’d make sure to remember this time.
“You’re right,” she said. “Are you coming back to the bus with me?”
Alexei cast an openly longing glance toward the road above them. “We need to return this cursed boat,” he said. “But then, perhaps, we could be on our way?” He gave Beka a big bear hug, making her ribs creak ominously. “If that is okay with you, little one.”
In truth, Beka would have loved for them to stay, as much for the company as for the help. But they would never consider leaving in the middle of an adventure if they weren’t seriously worried about Mikhail. Which made her worried too.
She mustered up the last of her strength, trying to make it seem like nothing, and grabbed their saddlebags from the bus, bringing them through the ether to materialize with a pop and a tumble of jangly chains on black leather and perfectly polished red.
“You boys go find Mikhail,” she said with a cheeriness so forceful it rattled her teeth. “I’ve got this. And don’t worry about the boat. I’ll make an anonymous call to the cops and they can come fetch it back to its owner.” She made a shooing motion. “Go on, get. And let me know when you find him, okay?”
Hopefully she’d still be a Baba Yaga when they did. She wasn’t sure what the rules were about the Riders contacting a civilian.
Gregori gave her one of his graceful bows and then they were gone, the sound of their departing motorcycles fading before she could draw another breath.
Damn, she hoped her plan worked. Because if it didn’t, without the Riders, she was screwed.
TWENTY-TWO
BEKA LET HERSELF into the bus as quietly as she could, but Chewie woke up anyway, lifting his head up from his paws where he was sprawled out over most of the kitchen floor like a dark, lumpy rug. She guessed he wouldn’t be much of a guard dragon if she could sneak past him, but she’d really been hoping to go to bed and put off the inevitable argument until morning. Well, later morning. It was already after two.
He padded over to greet her, nails clicking on the wooden floor, and blinked rapidly as she turned on the light.
“How did it go?” he asked, looking around. “And where are the Riders?”