“I had forgotten the sound of it,” he said, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. “There is much beauty here in our lands, but nothing like the seductive allure of the waves and the shore.”
For all its charm, there was, in fact, no ocean in the Otherworld, which was why the Selkies and Mer and other paranormal creatures who lived in the salt water had been forced to stay behind when most of their brethren had retreated at last to the safety of a Human-free land.
“How did you manage such a thing?” the Queen asked, sounding, thankfully, more curious than put out.
Barbara grinned and bowed again. “I bring Your Majesties greetings from the youngest Baba Yaga, Beka, and Gwrtheyrn, King of the Selkies.”
“Ah,” said the King. “Well played, Baba Yaga.”
The Queen gave a tiny nod. “You were lucky to have such good connections to help you with your first task, Baba Yaga. I doubt they were of much assistance with the second.” She turned to the creature with the scroll. “Which was . . . ?”
“The second task: bring to Us the living representation of a dead species,” the Notaire read off without expression.
“And have you accomplished this assignment as well?” the King asked.
“We have, Your Majesty.” Barbara nodded at Liam, who stepped forward and pulled the plastic carry cage out of his pocket. Through its holes, the frog within could be heard complaining softly about its limited accommodations.
Liam bowed, deeper than Barbara had, and handed the cage to a yellow-eyed servant, who passed it on to the Queen with a curled lip.
The Queen held up the cage by its clear handle and peered inside. “It is a frog,” she said. Disappointment and glee warred in her voice. “How can a frog be a living representation of a dead species? What is the meaning of this, Baba Yaga?”
“Allow me to explain, Your Majesty,” Liam said, bowing again. Barbara was proud of how confident he sounded, despite the audience he faced.
“This is not just any frog. It is a rare species called a gastric brooding frog, which carries its babies in its stomach and gives birth to them through its mouth. Until recently, it was, in fact, completely extinct, until scientists managed to bring the species back to life.”
The Queen looked down at the small innocuous specimen currently residing in the cage she held. “Indeed,” she said, thinning her lips in distaste. “It gives birth through its mouth, you say? How very . . . efficient.” She handed the plastic carrier hastily over to the King, who covered a smile with one slender hand.
“So you are saying that the species was dead, and your science managed somehow to resurrect it?” the King said. “That seems quite clever.”
The Queen gazed at the frog and sighed. “I suppose it will do, although I was hoping for something more impressive, like a dinosaur or the Loch Ness Monster.”
Liam held out his hand hopefully. “Uh, if Your Majesties have no use for the frog, the friend who got it for us could really use it back.”
The Queen made a waving motion with her hand. “My dear boy, take it with Our blessing. We have frogs aplenty already, I assure you, and all of them both more attractive and more melodious than this one.”
Liam grabbed the container before she could change her mind and stepped back to stand next to Barbara. “The Loch Ness Monster was real?” he whispered to her out of the corner of his mouth. “Seriously?”
“She was,” Barbara said. “Nessie died about fifteen years ago, the last of her kind. She was very sweet, actually, but very old and very tired and oh so lonely.” She wondered idly if Liam’s friend could bring back Nessie’s race after all, but decided it was a question best left for a less urgency-laden moment.
The sound of delicate throat clearing brought their attention back to the Queen, who sat upright and poised in her chair, leaning forward the slightest bit in her eagerness. “About that last task,” she said. “If you might read it aloud, Notaire?” She clearly thought she’d beaten them on this one.
The creature flushed with excitement, its pointed nose practically twitching. “Task the third: find a Human whose heart is so pure that he or she has never spoken a lie,” he read off the scroll with a flourish.
The assembled courtiers tittered, a sound like thousands of leaves rustling an autumn wind.
Barbara resisted the temptation to give them all the finger. Barely.
“It seems a remarkably difficult task, my dear Baba,” the Queen said. “But since you are here, We assume you are convinced that you have found such a person. But I note that you did not bring anyone else back with you.” She gazed at Liam dispassionately. “Perhaps you suggest that We believe such honesty lies in your sheriff?”
Liam shook his head. “I strive to be as honest as I can, Your Majesty, but even I fail on occasion, regretfully. As you would say, I am only Human.”
“Indeed,” the Queen agreed. She pointed her ornamental fan at Barbara. “Then perhaps you offer up yourself for this position, Baba Yaga?”