Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga, #2)(97)
“I see,” she said softly. “You want to bring him to the Queen yourself.”
“It is my duty and my shame,” the King said. “I will not shirk it.”
Beka rubbed her hand across her face, pondering his request. She had really been looking forward to taking Kesh to the Queen of the Otherworld herself, throwing him down at the Queen’s feet in a grand gesture of triumph that would demonstrate her worthiness to be a Baba Yaga.
But the Queen had only demanded that the traitor be brought to her; not who did the bringing. She would hear from Gwrtheyrn that Beka had been responsible for Kesh’s capture and know that Beka had fulfilled that part of her assignment.
Gazing at the furious and heartbroken King of the Selkies, she knew he needed to do this—needed it even more than she did.
She looked at Marcus and he nodded, clearly agreeing.
“Very well,” she said, with only a tiny pang of regret. “You may take him. See that he reaches the Queen alive.” She glanced over at Kesh, who curled his lip and sneered at her. “Although if he collects a few more bruises along the way, well, the water passage can be rough, I hear.”
Still ignoring his son, Gwrtheyrn gestured for his guards to come and take custody of Kesh, who was dragged away cursing voluminously and with greater imagination than Beka would have given him credit for. She suspected this was the last time she would ever see him. The Queen of the Otherworld was not known for her forgiving nature.
“You have earned the boon we promised you, Baba Yaga,” Boudicca said. “Have you aught to request from us? Perhaps a chest of precious jewels, or ancient coins reclaimed from the broken ships that lie upon the floor of the sea?”
Beka shook her head. “Neither of those, thank you, although I appreciate the offer.” She took a deep breath. “What I would really like is for you to make sure that the fish go back to where they belong, so that men like Marcus’s father can make an honest living doing the thing they love.”
Boudicca nodded gravely. “Easy enough to do, and little enough to ask after all that you have done for our people. Are you sure you desire nothing for yourself?”
Beka shook her head. She had almost everything she could wish for—and the only other thing she wanted, they didn’t have the power to give her.
“I am well satisfied, Your Majesty. After all, I was merely doing my duty as a Baba Yaga. I expect nothing in return for that.”
She expected the royals to leave, but Gwrtheyrn apparently had one more thing to say. He bowed low to Marcus, much lower than she would ever expect from a Selkie King facing a Human commoner. Boudicca came to stand again by his elbow and gave a small curtsy of her own.
“I am told by the Baba Yaga’s Chudo-Yudo that we owe you a debt of gratitude as well, fisherman,” the King said gravely. “He says that you have been of much assistance to the Baba in her search for the answers to our problem.” He eyed the knife slices in Marcus’s clothing and the fading remnants of the bruises on his knuckles. “And it is clear that you came to her aid in apprehending Kesh as well.”
His voice only broke a little when he said his son’s name, and everyone there carefully ignored it.
Marcus bowed back, only a tad awkwardly. “It was my pleasure, sir. No thanks required.”
Gwrtheyrn pursed his lips. “Perhaps not, but you have them nonetheless. We promised the Baba three boons for her service to our people; one of these to be given to the person of her choice. Clearly, you have earned that boon and there is, perhaps, a way we could repay you, if you wish.”
Marcus gave Beka a puzzled look, but she just lifted her eyebrows. She had no more idea what was going on than he did.
Boudicca cleared her throat. “The Chudo-Yudo told us of all you did. He also told us of your father’s illness. The one Humans call cancer.”
Beka could feel Marcus stiffen beside her. “Yes, my father is ill. But Beka—uh, the Baba Yaga—has already told me that she can’t give him the Water of Life and Death.”
“You misunderstand,” the King said. “We have an offer of a different sort. You see, we water folk do not have this cancer; it is not an affliction that affects such as us.”
“That’s nice,” Marcus said. “But what does that have to do with my father?”
“There is a Selkie magic,” Gwrtheyrn explained, gazing at Marcus with something less than his usual stern expression. “It can change a Human into one of us. I have consulted my wisest and most learned healers, and it is their opinion that such a change might well eradicate the cancer now plaguing your father.”
Marcus’s mouth gaped open. Beka couldn’t tell what he was thinking, beyond his obvious shock at the suggestion.
The King held up a cautionary hand. “You must understand, there is no guarantee that such a thing would work. It is merely our best supposition. And the change is irreversible. Should your father choose to become one of us, there could be no going back. And he would not have the ability to transform from seal to man. This is something that must be learned when one is young, or not at all. Once a Selkie, he would never be able to walk on land again. But he might live a long and healthy life, and our people would welcome him.”
“I—I don’t know what to say,” Marcus said in a strangled tone.
“It is not a small thing to take in, I understand,” the King said, not unkindly. “The decision is not an easy one, and your father must choose for himself. But we would gladly grant this gift, should he decide that he wishes it.”