*
BEKA FORCED HER feet to move toward the pier where the Wily Serpent was docked, even though every fiber of her being wanted to run in the opposite direction. Or walk, maybe, since it was really early and she’d barely gotten any sleep.
It had taken almost two hours to convince Chewie that it would be okay for him to leave the bus and go with her out on the ocean. The main duty of a Chudo-Yudo was to guard the Water of Life and Death that his Baba Yaga was entrusted with by special favor of the Queen of the Otherworld. The Water was precious and rare, which was why it stayed hidden away in a special compartment. (Or, in the case of Beka’s Baba-sister Barbara, tucked away behind the orange juice in her refrigerator. As Barbara liked to say, it was the last place anyone would ever look.)
Chewie took his duties very seriously and rarely left the bus if Beka wasn’t there. He occasionally ran down to the beach below to sport amongst the waves, but even then he was close enough to sense if the magical defenses on the erstwhile hut sent up a warning of an intruder. It took all of Beka’s persuasive powers to talk him into going with her today, and if it wasn’t for the urgent nature of the mission, and the lives at stake, she was sure he would have refused.
And it wasn’t until after they left the bus that she realized she’d still forgotten to take the dose of the Water as she’d promised Gregori. It would have been nice to get the boost, but it would just have to wait until they got home.
They’d set out soon after the sun came up, because Beka was afraid that the boat would have already gone out if they waited too long, but when she reached the end of the pier, there it was. She didn’t see Marcus or his father, but Chico and Kenny were hard at work, repainting the fading trim and scrubbing the deck.
“Ahoy the boat,” she said, standing by the short gangplank that connected it to the dock.
“Hey! Beka! Look Chico, it’s Beka!” Kenny dropped his scrub brush into his bucket with a splash and raced over to meet her. “And her . . . um, what is that thing, anyway?”
Beka laughed, surprised by how pleased she was to see Kenny’s open, sunny face. “This is Chewie. He’s a Newfoundland.”
“Hola, chica,” Chico said. “It is nice to see you back here. Marcus told us that you were done with your diving, and we thought maybe we weren’t going to see you again.” He eyed Chewie with the admiration of a true dog lover. “Dios mio, that is some big dog. We had donkeys in my village back home smaller than him.”
Chewie gave a proud woof and Beka whispered, “Stop showing off. You’ll scare the natives.”
“I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you,” she said. “I didn’t realize it was cleaning day.”
Kenny’s face fell, his big grin sliding away like an eel hiding from a hawk. “Yeah. Marcus Senior, he ain’t doing so good, and the fishing has been pretty bad. He’s thinking about maybe selling the boat, so he’s got us spiffing it up a little.”
“Oh. Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.” Her heart ached to hear that Marcus’s father was losing his battle; she’d actually grown to like the crusty old sailor. And, of course, without his father and the boat to hold him here, Marcus would be gone in a flash. Not that it made any difference to Beka’s life. But still, she’d kind of liked the thought of knowing he was out on the Bay, even if she couldn’t be with him.
Focus, Beka, focus.
“Uh, is he here? Marcus, I mean?” Beka could feel herself flushing and stared down at the oily water underneath the pier, watching the swirls of iridescence moving back and forth with the waves as boats chugged in and out of the harbor.
“He’s here,” Chico said. “Hang on. Kenny, you want to get Mr. Marcus for the lady?”
“Sure,” Kenny said, and turned around to yell over his shoulder, “Hey, Marcus! Beka’s here!”
Chico rolled his eyes and muttered something in Spanish. “I meant you should go and fetch him, idiota, not wake up everybody on the whole pier.”
Kenny glanced up and down the dock, where most of the boats had already set sail for the day. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
Beka stifled a laugh at their antics, but her sense of humor fled when she caught sight of Marcus, coming around the starboard side of the ship. He looked just as amazing as he had the first time she’d seen him, his hair curling a little from the damp air, those broad shoulders straining his tee shirt. His hazel eyes had an amber hue as they gazed at her, the sun lighting him from behind like a corona. She fought the desire to run to him and throw herself into his arms. She knew she wasn’t welcome there.