“Take care of each other,” he said, and walked into the sea.
* * *
BEKA SAT ON the damp sand and watched the foam curl lace-edged on the sand and then retreat. Just like life—something always coming, always going. Beautiful, unpredictable, implacable in its perpetual and constant change. No matter how much you wanted things to stay the same, they never did.
Sometimes they changed for the better. Sometimes they changed for the worse. But they always changed.
Marcus had been standing by the surf, staring out over the water as if he could see into the secret realms underneath. Or maybe just brooding; it was hard to tell. Either way, she couldn’t blame him. After a while, he wandered over and sat next to Beka.
“You’re crying,” he said, sounding a little surprised. “You never cry.”
She shrugged a little, her tee shirt and jeans feeling strangely constricting after the long, flowing dress she’d worn earlier. Her heart felt constricted, too, as if metal bars had formed around it, tightening into bands so firm she could feel them crushing into the flesh, making her pulse seem ragged and uneven.
“Are you crying for my da?” he asked. “Because I think he’s going to be okay, one way or the other.”
“I think so too,” Beka said, looking at his face under the moonlight, so beloved and so strong. How could she choose a life where she would never gaze on that face again? How could she not?
Marcus scooted a little closer, brushing away a tear as it slid slowly down her cheek. “If you’re not crying about my da, then what’s wrong, Beka?” He leaned over and kissed the spot where the tear had been, making the iron bars tighten even further. “Can I help?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “You see, tomorrow is my birthday.”
He blinked at her. “And you don’t like birthdays?”
She gave a tiny laugh. “I love birthdays, usually. But tomorrow I turn thirty, and I will have been a Baba—or a Baba-in-training—for twenty-five years. If I keep drinking the Water of Life and Death, there is no going back. I’ll be a Baba Yaga, and a powerful witch, for the rest of my life. So you see, this is my last chance; I have to choose once and for all whether to be magical or to be Human, like everyone else.”
“You could never be like everyone else,” Marcus said solemnly. “And that’s a good thing, not a bad one.”
Beka sniffed, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. Damn him, the last thing she needed right now was him being sweet. “I thought I didn’t want to be a Baba Yaga anymore. I wanted a regular life, and kids of my own. But the last few weeks have shown me I really want to be a Baba after all. I feel like that’s the role I was meant to play.”
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, obviously confused.
She looked him in the eye. “I love you,” she said. “That’s the problem. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone, and I don’t want to give you up. But I know you hate all this magical stuff, and you’ll only want me if I am Human. So if I want to keep you, I have to give up the magic, and I can’t bear the thought of losing it either. That’s why I’m crying.”
To her amazement, Marcus let out a huge laugh, leaning in to put his arms around her. His hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as he said, “You’re wrong, Beka. I know I’ve been kind of freaked out about finding out that life really is like the fairy tales, but I’ve learned a lot over the last couple of weeks too.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips, so she could feel the curve of his smile, and then pulled back to say in a voice that rang with truth, “The most important thing I learned is that I want you just the way you are—the whole crazy, magical, enchanting, infuriating package. That’s who I fell in love with, even if I didn’t know it at the time. And that’s who I’m going to love for the rest of my days. No matter which path you choose, I want to walk it with you.
“As for me, I want to stay here on the Bay and go out fishing on my father’s boat. But I also want to start a program to help kids like Tito, the ones who are poor and sick and need to get out into the fresh air and do something fun. I could take them out for a day on the boat and give their parents a break. But I’m going to need another crew member to help, now that my father is gone, and Chico is on his way back to Mexico.”
To her amazement, he knelt before her on one knee and took her hands in his. “I know you’re going to be off some of the time, doing Baba things, but when you’re around, I was wondering if you’d maybe agree to work the boat with me. And, you know, marry me. If you don’t mind being stuck with a slightly grumpy ex-Marine fisherman with a beat-up old boat and no money to speak of.”