The clock on the car dashboard read 11:14am in the moment before it went dark. Engine off, seatbelts unclipped, car doors opened, and they climbed out. Verona was in the car with her mother, talking in an animated way as they climbed out.
Avery’s thoughts were so preoccupied with what the evening might bring that she was in a daze up until she recognized a sign.
“Oh!” Avery exclaimed. “This place? I know this place.”
They were out in front of the bakery, exiting the car, Lucy and Verona’s moms leading the way, glancing back.
“I love it. Proper bagels,” Lucy said, kissing and flicking her fingers. More emotive than usual.
“Do you have any favorites, Avery?” Jasmine asked.
“I-” Avery started. I know this place because Snowdrop and Toadswallow like to get food from the back dumpster here. “Not yet.”
She flushed a bit, her thoughts tripping up on the fact that she knew this place through word of mouth about its dumpster food. Verona shot her a quizzical look and smile.
They stood in line, and Jasmine grabbed things from the open coolers that were beside the line to the counter. Cream cheese spreads with stuff in them, drinks that seemed to be divided between the regular soft drinks and then lighter herbal stuff and iced teas.
“Grab what you want,” Jasmine said, noticing.
Feeling put on the spot, Avery nodded, then turned to browse. The line moved slowly, giving her time to pick. She grabbed a peach iced tea.
“How did you meet these two?” Verona’s mom asked.
That put her on the spot. “Group project.”
“What kind of project?”
“World issues related,” Verona said.
Avery frowned at Verona.
“Isn’t everything related to world issues?” her mom asked.
“Exactly. It allows for some very broad categorizations.”
“They have vegetarian options,” Lucy pointed out, interrupting.
“Who’s vegetarian?” Verona’s mom asked.
Lucy jerked a thumb in Avery’s direction while Verona pointed.
Avery took the opportunity to dodge the line of questioning, walking over to Lucy and standing on her toes to look up at the board above the open kitchen.
“Ooh,” Avery said, “Hmmm.”
“Inception por-qué bagel sandwich, fake meat-” Lucy read.
“Fake pork on a bagel?” Avery scrunched up her nose.
“With tons of barbecue sauce and stuff, looks like,” Lucy added.
“On a bagel? I dunno. Fake meat I’ve tried is maybe half mediocre, squint-and-you-could-interpret-it-as-meat stuff,” Avery said. “And the other half was real sad. My siblings looked at the turkey slice stuff and they went from making fun of the vegetarian stuff to feeling sorry for me. And making fun of me a little, still.”
“If it’s decent then you could come back and have it again,” Verona’s mom said.
“I dunno, I don’t want to ruin a whole meal though.”
“There’s also the Inception vegetarian bagel sandwich, and the I-TLC,” Lucy supplied.
“Vegetarian has… eggplant?” Avery asked. Marinated, roasted eggplant, tomato, lettuce, swiss cheese and pesto sauce, pickle spear. She didn’t ever remember having eggplant and the more she thought about eating it, the more she imagined it with the texture of soft rubber and the taste of soap. Which was probably totally wrong. “Don’t remember having it. Don’t really want to try it, either.”
“Will you be bothered if we order something with meat?” Verona’s mom asked, turning to look at Avery.
“Oh, uhhh, no.”
Lucy elbowed her.
“Why the nudge?” Verona’s mom asked, sticking her elbow out into the air to mime what Lucy had done. “Don’t lie for my benefit, really. I don’t mind, and I’m admittedly a bit curious about the por-qué thing.“
“It’s not a lie for your benefit,” Verona said, sagely, without elaborating.
“I really don’t mind much,” Avery said, feeling very put on the spot. She could have elaborated to say she didn’t especially want to smell it, herself, but that would’ve made things worse. She didn’t mind much but she did mind a tiny bit and she couldn’t say that. She floundered, feeling a bit put on the spot.
Verona stepped in to fill the gap where Avery’s explanation would’ve gone, explaining, “The nudge is because Avery’s trying not to umm and uhhh as much. She wanted us to bug her about it when she did it.”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “That.”
“I think we all say it,” Jasmine observed. “It’s a natural part of speech.”
“I said it a lot though,” Avery said.
“So long as it’s peer pressure done in good spirit,” Lucy’s mom said. “You’d tell Lucy if she was nagging you too much about it, right?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “Third one, I think.”
“The TLC?” Lucy asked. “Tomato, lettuce, cucumber, smoked swiss, and Yeast Inception’s specialty honey mustard?”
“Do you eat cheese?” Lucy’s mom asked.
“Yeah. I like the name. Sounds good enough. On sesame.”
“Verona was reminding me to be environmentally conscious while we were on vacation,” Verona’s mom said. “Is that your influence?”
“Not so much?” Avery asked, quizzical, looking at Verona.
“It’s a generation thing,” Verona said, still talking in a tone like she was laying sage wisdom down from above and having fun at the same time. Verona was being very Verona and it felt a lot like Avery had felt when she was just getting into the flow of these two, after Miss had introduced them.
“I’ll take down notes so we don’t take too long at the cash,” Jasmine said, taking a note on her phone. “TLC for you, Avery, Inception Special for Lucy, I’m guessing…”
“Yeah. Peppercorn.”
“And Verona?”
“Lox and cream cheese with double helping of black olive and red onion, please, poppyseed.”
“If you’re eating that much red onion I don’t want to sit with you on the car ride back,” Lucy said. “She had this garlic pizza just before sleeping right next to me, this summer. It was so bad.”
“The pizza was great,” Verona said. “The experience was bad, for you.”
“Yes.”
“What else were you doing there this summer?” Verona’s mom asked.
Avery didn’t want to be playing on the defensive constantly, so she volunteered, “I played lacrosse with some older kids.”
“She kicked ass too,” Lucy said.
“Language in a public place, please, thank you,” Jasmine said, absently.
“Avery’s great at sports,” Verona said. “Someone on the sidelines was saying something like, ‘you don’t need to go that far, Avery’ and we said something like, ‘Nah, that’s just regular Avery playing sports.'”
“I envy that,” Verona’s mom said. “I could never get into sports much. Some kayaking with friends, back in school. What draws you to sports?”
It was an easier question than some of the others, but Avery hesitated.
Verona glanced at her, then looked up at her mom. “Mom, you’re grilling Avery. Easy does it.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” Verona’s mom said.
Avery’s eyes flicked from Verona to Verona’s mom, assessing the situation. It was a casual, small moment, but she felt very stuck in the middle of it. Verona was browsing drinks, the comment made and forgotten, and Verona’s mom had turned away to watch the bakers putting the final touches on a tray of cinnamon buns they were making behind plexiglass.
Lucy’s mom leaned in to say something quiet to Verona’s mom.
Lucy glanced over, frowning slightly before glancing at Verona.
Avery was left to think about whether speaking up or interjecting would be better or worse, or if there were reasons, like if Verona was mad at her mom for some reason and if countering what Verona was saying by saying she didn’t mind would be taking a side, or if Verona was protecting Avery from something weird, like when she hadn’t really gone out of her way to introduce her to her dad.
Didn’t feel like either of those things.
Verona’s mom looked back at Verona, looked like she was going to say something to get Verona’s attention, then didn’t. Avery had been in that exact same position, once.
“I like how small the world feels.”
“Hm?” Verona’s mom refocused on her.
“With sports. I like how when you’re on the field, there’s you, there’s the crowd, ideally, cheering you on, ideally, and these people you interact with, and everyone has a place and the rules are known and you can…” Avery gestured without knowing what she was trying to convey. “…kick a- rear end, and kind of be the fastest person in the world so long as I’m thinking of the rink as a small world all of its own?”
“That does make sense,” Verona’s mom said. “Fastest in the world, huh?”
Avery shrugged. “Can be, if it’s a small world I’m in.”
“I get that with music,” Lucy said. “Shutting out the world. Not to be on top, though. Tuning out, more like.”
Avery nodded.
Jasmine went to deliver the order, reading off the phone. Avery stepped around Verona’s mom to put her drink on the counter, and took the bottles handed to her by the others.
“And you?” Verona’s mom asked Verona.
“I… no. I sorta feel like the world’s always like that, isn’t it?”
“Like what?” her mom asked.
“Like it’s all small and it’s all like… aren’t we all moving from one rink to another, trying to work as teams or beat the other side? Class, Lucy’s room, here? Each of us with our strengths and metaphorical rinks we tend to stick to?”
“I think so,” her mom said. “My perspective is less about rinks, I don’t really-”
“Do you want to order?”
“-Oh. I’m curious about the pork- por-que? The alternate meat, did you want to try it, Avery? We could each take half of-”
“Yeah, sure,” Avery said.
“The Inception por-qué, then, thank you,” Verona’s mom said. “I was never lucky enough-”
“On what bagel?” Lucy’s mom asked.
“Oh. Poppyseed.”
They walked away from the line as Verona’s mom talked. Apparently really engaged. “I was never lucky enough to find my passion, nothing that really gripped me as a career. Finance, politics, computers, law…”
“I’m not into art as a career, though,” Verona said. “And like, who even thinks about careers at thirteen?”
“Me either, with sports,” Avery interjected.
“Okay, fair enough. But even at your age, I didn’t have a thing I liked.”
“That’s a bummer,” Lucy said.
“It’s an advantage, if you can tackle a new project without feeling like you’re leaving behind the things you really want to do. I get excited about any new venture, and I think I can sell people on that excitement and make things happen.”
“Huh,” Verona said.
Jasmine finished ordering and took the little plastic thing from the person at the counter. She joined them off to the side of the line, and they found their table and sat.
As they settled in, Avery could see through the front window to the street outside, and she saw them. Alarm raced through her.
Her mom, dad, Sheridan, Declan, and Kerry, all together, just outside the front window. Kerry was crying and it looked like Declan was at fault.
They stepped out of view, toward the front door of the shop. The line of people waiting to order blocked her view of the red-haired chaos that lay beyond.
She dropped her face into her hands.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked.
“I think I just saw my family,” Avery said. She lifted up her face and looked at the adults at the table. “Did you invite my family?”
“We called your parents and said we’d be happy to have them join us,” Lucy’s mom said.
“Oh no,” Avery said. “Oh no, no no no. They brought my siblings.”
“What have you done?” Verona asked them, mock-horrified, even though she looked like she was enjoying herself at the same time.
Avery watched as her family appeared at the end of the line. Avery’s mom struggled to hold Kerry, who was crying, whimpering some words, and who was too big to be held easily, and Avery’s dad was saying something stern to Declan.
Sheridan fixated on them, but as she left the line to approach their mom called out to her.
Kerry, realizing her mom wasn’t listening to her, raised her voice to be heard, saying something plaintive about Declan.
Avery shrank down in her seat.
“Hey,” Sheridan said. She stood behind Avery and put hands on Avery’s shoulders. Avery shrugged them off.
“Should we push tables together?” Jasmine asked.
“Why are you here?” Avery asked. “Please go away.”
“I wanted to stay home but apparently Declan and Kerry need things and it was a choice between staying, making a meal for me and Grumble, making sure he eats okay, and I stress out every time. Plus this way I don’t have to go to any effort.”
Avery looked up at her sister, Sheridan’s face upside-down to her perspective, and gave her a disgusted look. Sheridan grinned.
“Is that a yes or a no on pushing tables together? Does anyone have an opinion?” Jasmine asked.
“Avery!” Kerry raised her voice, shouting across the bakery. People in line winced and heads in the dining area all turned. Her mom tried to hold onto her, but she gripped the railing that kept the line out of the way of people wanting to depart the bakery, and pulled and squirmed out of her mom’s hold. She ran across, accidentally kicking a bag of shopping stuff by someone’s chair, then reached Avery. “Avery, Avery, Declan said I could watch Rat Princess after he was done playing, but he knew we were going out to lunch!”
She grappled with Avery and pulled on her shirt, as if each tug could add weight and meaning to words.
“Don’t pull on my shirt, you’ll stretch it.”
“Nobody told me, nobody tells me things!”
“Stop pulling!”
Lucy reached for Kerry and tugged the collar of her shirt up. Kerry had a ponytail and by pulling the shirt up, Lucy could grip the collar around the ponytail, shirt around Kerry’s face, slightly plump stomach showing. Blind, Kerry flailed, reaching up, releasing Avery. Avery grabbed her wrists.
“I was thinking about getting a nice tall glass of ice water,” Sheridan said. “Eh Lucy? How refreshing would that be?”
“What have you done?” Verona asked her mom and Lucy’s mom, exaggerated. “Have you no mercy?”
“Sheridan, go tell your mom what you want,” Avery’s dad said. “Kerry-”
“I’m missing my show!” Kerry whined, shirt still up around her head, while she tried to pull it down. She scratched at Lucy’s hand. “Declan said I could watch and then he laughed when I couldn’t! I was being good!”
“Don’t scratch me,” Lucy warned.
Avery’s dad bent down and scooped Kerry up, flipping her upside-down momentarily in the process. Lucy released the shirt. He grunted. “Oof, getting harder to do that.”
“I was being good!” Kerry repeated, as she pulled her shirt back down.
“Come on, go to your mom. Enough about the show for now, okay?”
“But-”
“Enough.”
Kerry whimpered.
“Go to your mom,” he said, setting her down on the ground and giving her butt a quick mock-slap to send her on her way. “Not the best first impression, I know. Hi guys.”
“This is Connor Kelly, Avery’s dad. Connor, this is Verona’s mom-”
“Sylvia Hayward,” Verona’s mom said. She shook his hand. Avery’s dad gave her a look, and she said, “Changing your last name everywhere, notifying all business contacts, clients, the inevitable questions or conversations about divorces. It’s easier to let it be. I don’t care myself, either way.”
“Fair. Easier for us too.”
“Absolutely,” Verona’s mom said.
“Please tell me they’re not sitting with us,” Avery said.
“Your mom and I wanted to check in with your friend’s parents, see how things were, do some shopping on our way out.”
“Please.”
“We’ll figure something out,” he said. “Are you in town for long?”
“I leave a bit after lunch,” Verona’s mother said. “Have to get back to work.”
“What do you do?”
“Right now it’s implementation and coordination of a pilot project for the government. It could be something else next month. You?”
“Data quality analysis. Right now we’re working with data from healthcare. Moved to full time this fall, taking over for a retiring colleague, lots more free time after the kids left homeschooling.”
“Sensitive stuff. Lots of regulations to dodge, and-”
“Yep.”
“-Conveying the data to people is- that’s got to be tough on its own.”
“Not a lot of people would jump straight to that,” Connor said, eyebrows going up. “It’s not something I’m the best at but I’m learning it’s important.”
“That’s my job, really. Getting the message and the numbers across in a way that lets things happen. Government moves slowly-”
“It does.”
“-and that turns small wrinkles into speed bumps and speed bumps into walls.”
“Absolutely. I could go on at length about that but I don’t want to bore you.”
“Not at all, I’d love to discuss it at any depth.”
“Let me go figure out with my wife what we’re doing with the kids and lunch and we may flip a coin to decide who takes the kids to the park and who joins you guys for lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jasmine said. The plastic fob that she’d been given lit up, and she rose to her feet, going to get the sandwiches.
Over on the other side of the railing, still waiting to order, Avery’s dad gave Verona’s mom a thumbs up, while Avery’s mom looked a little put out. It seemed pretty obvious that she’d lost the coin toss.
Verona put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand, giving Avery a look.
Because the kitchen of the Yeast Inception bakery had such an open plan, with people sitting in the dining area and people in line all getting a view of what was going on, Avery could see through to the clock.
Eleven hours until we get word and make a move.
“Just the one, I think,” Jasmine said. “She works for the whole hospital, and doubles as IT, I think.”
“That’s not nearly enough,” Connor said. “One health information specialist?”
Verona’s mom leaned forward. “The province cut spending and IT-”
“IT is the kind of thing that gets cut first. If everything’s working right then you wonder why you have it and if it’s wrong you wonder why they deserve to be employed.”
Avery tuned most of it out. Her mom had taken Declan, Sheridan, and Kerry out to the park.
The bagel sandwiches came in two halves, and Avery had exchanged one half with Verona’s mom, to try the fake pork thing with barbecue sauce. It was not very good. Tough, with a taste of something musty that the barbecue sauce was very obviously trying to cut through and hide.
She hated to waste food though, and looking down, she took a deep breath, her eyes turning dark as she drew on the familiar bond.
She was dimly aware of Snowdrop out there, lying in sunlight, stirring awake as she sensed Avery.
Avery focused on that, drew on the connection, and channeled it. Snowdrop raised a paw, ‘thumb’ extended, then went back to sleep.
She adopted the omnivore scavenger’s palate.
“Hey, um,” Verona cut into the ongoing conversation. “Is it okay if we duck out? Maybe do some shopping?”
“You can, absolutely. Do you want to stick around and say goodbye to your mom, or…?”
“I’ll loop back. But I think we’re all done.”
Avery nodded, still chewing, and gave a thumbs up.
They rose out of their seats and escaped the conversation.
“Sorry. That’s a thing that happens,” Verona said. “I thought we should use the time we have, try to get ready some.”
“Sounds good,” Lucy said. “What’s first?”
“Healing for you? We could duck out, see Tashlit, I can return, say bye to my mom…”
“Avery!”
Avery flinched like she’d been slapped in the back of her head.
“Which store?” he asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
“You like the triathalon sports store, right?”
“Yeah.”
He accompanied them, and there was no easy way to ask him to get lost. He ushered them into the sports store.
“Your mom will be upset with me if we miss you while we’re doing a bit of shopping for everyone,” he said.
“I’m okay. I don’t need-”
“Here,” he said. He reached into his pocket and got his wallet. He pressed a card into her hand. Then he turned to the cashier. “My daughter has my card, Connor Kelly. She has my permission to use it. That okay?”
The girl at the counter barely looked older than any of the three of them. Bewildered, she shrugged and nodded.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He bent down to give Avery a kiss on the top of the head. “Buy what you need. Clothes only.”
“A credit card?” Verona asked. She cackled, loud.
“Don’t act suspicious before he leaves,” Lucy said, giving Verona a swat on the arm.
“Two hundred dollars max,” he called out to the cashier.
“Two hundred- two hundred?” Verona asked, after he was gone. “Now we have to shop a bit, to not look suspicious.”
“I really can’t think of much I need,” Avery said. “Some shirts, maybe, shorts…”
“Two hundred dollars?” Verona repeated.
Avery shook her head, looking around. “While Snowdrop is leveling up in- I don’t even know what to call it. Intensity of fashion? I feel like I should do something similar but I don’t know what.”
“We can browse,” Lucy said.
“Does your dad do this a lot? What’s the term? Giving you carte blanche?”
Lucy commented, “I think your dad likes talking to your mom. He seemed pretty into the chat. Going to back to talk to her.”
“This is what she does,” Verona said. “Hey, while you’re doing that, Ave, buy your basics, I can think of some things to buy for Tashlit. I have some money too.”
“Not just Tashlit,” Lucy said.
“Ooh. I’ll grab this one for myself,” Verona said. “If they have an extra small…”
Avery turned on her Snowdrop-eyes, felt Snowdrop stir in a distant spot, and then looked inside the stack for the strips of plastic with the letters on it. Her fingers traced the stacked v-neck shirts, found the one, and pulled it out.
“So coool!” Verona said, happy, jostling Avery, totally ignoring the shirt Avery was holding out. “That’s neat! Fantastic!”
“I found a shirt.”
“In such a cool way, though!”
1:20pm, the display screen on Avery’s phone read.
She navigated the way down to the water, carrying bags of stuff.
“How bad is your stomach really?” Avery asked. “I’d understand if you weren’t wanting to tell Verona while things are weird.”
“I think Verona’s kinda sorta okay right now?” Lucy ventured, pushing a branch aside. “Laughing, joking, not seeming to take stuff seriously while she’s getting into serious mode?”
They’d left Verona behind to say bye to her mom. The way down to Tashlit’s spot wasn’t exactly a path, and involved stepping over and around a lot of foliage, with some points that demanded backing up and circling around to where it wasn’t as dense and enmeshed.
Some of that might have been Ken doing some sorting out.
“You didn’t answer.”
“I couldn’t sleep much last night because it hurt. And then I stressed because there’s this thing…”
“Ten hours.”
“In ten hours, yeah,” Lucy said. “And then I got stressed because I knew not sleeping before a day like today which might really matter…”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“Made it even harder to sleep because I was stressed.”
“Yeah. For sure.”
“Ave,” Lucy said.
Lucy’s hand reached out for Avery’s arm and Avery’s instinct was that Lucy was off balance or falling while navigating the forest and stuff, so she half-turned, reaching out, on guard to brace or catch Lucy. She relaxed when Lucy was just standing there, one arm extended to Avery’s elbow.
“What’s up?” Avery asked.
“Verona gave me a light pummeling last night. I- After you left to go find Miss, thanks for doing that, by the way.”
“For sure.”
“She and I talked. I was telling her, you know, I’m sorry I wasn’t in touch with you more? I got stuck in my own head and I know you were trying to stay in touch and we weren’t and…”
“Happens,” Avery said.
“No, but… it shouldn’t happen and I am sorry I wasn’t better to you and wasn’t better to her, you know? I told her that, and I know I should tell you. I’m sorry. I was hurt and scared and spooked and that’s a whole other thing from being scared. And I should have let you know and I didn’t and if that made lying around with a headache worse or lonelier…”
“I’ve got Snowdrop, helps a bit,” Avery said.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said, eyebrows up and drawn together. “Really.”
“It did suck and it was lonely but I get it. It’s cool.”
“We’re cool?”
“We’re cool,” Avery replied.
“That’s something I’ll watch out for in the future, okay?”
“Cool,” Avery replied. “Thanks.”
“Things are probably going to get messy soon.”
“Yeah. We kinda hinted around that subject while shopping,” Avery said.
“I like the idea of sticking by one another, it’s just tricky sometimes. People are… personality-wise I see us all as jagged, weirdly shaped things, and we try to mesh together as best as we can but sometimes…”
“Yeah.”
“The mesh isn’t perfect and we bounce off one another or something and that doesn’t at all mean I don’t care or I’m not in your corner.”
“I know. I get it, I mean, logically I get it and I don’t always feel it, but I feel it and get it and I know it now. Because of what you said. Yeah.”
“Yeah. Good.”
“Thank you, it’s nice to hear.”
“Good,” Lucy said. She let go of Avery’s elbow. “Awkward moment done.”
“If you weren’t doing great before… are you better now? Because Verona’s back?”
“It helps. But there’s a part of me that’s still freaking out, you know?”
They resumed walking, side by side, and it wasn’t a fast walk because they were measuring their pace so neither of them left the other behind. Mostly that was Avery trying not to leave Lucy behind. And if one of them hit a snarl or a tough patch to navigate, the other stopped until they were through.
“The deadline for tonight is scary,” Avery said. “I’ve been watching the clock since we woke up.”
Lucy nodded. “I’m trying not to look at my phone or the time. But I’m still spooked. I’m still…”
“Yeah.”
“You?”
“I’m… mostly okay? There was a while where the headache was bad and you know I had to go see the doctor right?”
“Yeah.”
“And he said I might have post-concussion syndrome, even if it didn’t look like I had a concussion right then.”
“You didn’t?”
Avery shook her head. “He smacked me in the back of the head near the brain stem and that can give you gnarly headaches that last for a whole month. But when he said I could have the post-concussion thing, he was saying I could have mental difficutlies or problems for the rest of my life. And that’s when, you know… I was spooked.”
“I would be out of my mind, I think.”
“I was too… hurting, and annoyed with everyone, especially my siblings, while it was all going on. I went to lie on the couch with Grumble for a whole day and we watched movies, and my parents made everyone go away or be quiet. Declan hated that, because he couldn’t play his console. That’s why he was taking up extra time today, and negotiating with Kerry.”
“Constant stuff.”
“Grumble slept through most of it. Then I got really irrationally annoyed at him for being asleep and for being… not cool, you know?”
Lucy nodded.
“I guess if I had to put my finger on it, I was too annoyed to be that freaked out about anything permanent. And then when I was less annoyed it was like it was always in the back of my head and I’d kinda gotten over the fear?”
“Sure. Well, whatever works.”
“I think it was all so broken and messed up that it somehow circled around to working again.”
“You know that you’re like… cool, right, Ave?”
“I don’t, no.”
“I don’t mean sunglasses and slicked back hair cool, or snowboarder chick cool, or leather jackets type cool, I mean-”
“These are your measurements for cool? Sunglasses and slicked back hair? What?” Avery asked, smiling.
“They’re- moving on. They’re not exactly-”
“Do we have to move on? Because calling me cool is awkward but defining what you see as cool is fun. Who’s a cool guy, Lucy? One cool guy you know.”
“I had a point I was getting to.”
“First one off the top of your head. Is it Zed?”
“It’s- I don’t know. Tymon from the Blue Heron? George from our regular school?”
“Tymon?” Avery asked. “Huh. George? I can kind of see George.”
“Can we go back to the regular topic?”
“What’s the commonality between those guys? Tymon’s a bit laid back, especially when you put him with a bunch of these practitioners from uptight families, and George is sort of above it all. Tymon’s from a big drug-spirit summoning family and George partakes…”
“Not really the direction I was thinking.”
“Very angular faces. Sharp chins, defined cheekbones…”
“Is this punishment? For leaving you hanging while I moped? Are you channeling Snowdrop’s chaotic spirit?”
“Oh, they both have longer hair. Are you into longer hair? I can understand that.”
“The longer hair is a plus.”
“There we go!”
They navigated their way to the edge of the trees. Avery called out. “Hello! Coming in!”
There was no answer, but of course not.
“Where does Wallace fit into this?”
“Wallace is nice. I could bring him home to meet my mom and not want to die.”
“Would George from our class make you want to die?”
“I feel like he’d say something off that would. He’s a little bit of a jerk in that way that’s fun if you’re in class and you’re bored and you want a little bit of snark but I feel like he’d say similar things at the dinner table.”
“Huh,” Avery said, nodding. “I can see that. Is Wallace cool, though? Does he fit the metric? Short hair…”
“I don’t think he’s cool. But ‘cool’ isn’t the important thing. I like some of the shirts he wears. It’s not like he’s following a trend. It’s unique.”
“Some make my eyes hurt,” Avery said. Wallace tended to lighten his hair and wear shirts with wild geometric or fractal patterns, prints, and/or colors.
She saw Tashlit emerging from the water, water dripping off of her. She set a pair of large stones down by the shore, taken in from underwater. Many eyes peered through the torn, loose skin that was draped over and around her. The skin was tanned, except where it had been too folded for the sun to get at.
“Hey,” Avery greeted the god-begotten Other.
Tashlit waved back. Okay, easy enough.
“Sorry to intrude, we’re-” Lucy started.
Tashlit was already waving a hand, as if to brush Lucy off. Body language careless.
No intrusion. Okay, that was easy too.
Tashlit held up two fingers, separated, in a ‘v’ shape.
“She’s saying bye to her mom,” Avery said.
Tashlit cradled her arms, tapped her wrist and pointed down.
“When does she get here? I don’t know that she is. She gave us some stuff to give to you but we’re juggling stuff. She thinks tomorrow, she’ll drop by if the situation…”
Tashlit was shaking her head. Skin moved in a different time than the narrow, eye-covered head beneath that skin did.
“Not?”
Tashlit tapped wrist, pointed behind herself, tapped wrist, pointed ahead. Tapped wrist, pointed down.
“Time… back? Back in time?” Avery guessed. She looked at Lucy, then back at Tashlit. “We established this one, didn’t we?”
Tashlit nodded emphatically.
“Sorry. Do you keep the signs consistent over time?”
Another emphatic nod.
“My bad. Um, repeat it?”
Tashlit shook her head. A hand waved. She walked over to the cabin and bent over to squeeze water out of her hair. In the doing, skin stretched and was pulled around. As hair was twisted, the skin of her scalp that hung to one side of her real head was twisted up too.
“Not important, I guess?” Lucy asked. “Hey, um, Verona got some stuff to give to you.”
Tashlit tilted her head.
They put bags down and dug inside. Avery found the shirts and swim shorts. “I was told to tell you this is from Verona with love.”
Tashlit took the shirts, then noticed the tags and stickers. She stood up straighter, hyperalert. She rubbed fingers and thumb together, then ‘polished’ the clothes with her fingers.
“They’re new, yeah. They were on sale, I think?” Avery asked.
Tashlit dissolved into a series of gestures that looked more vigilant and concerned than anything else.
“I think it’s cool, Tashlit,” Lucy said. “She wanted to thank you somehow and to think about you.”
Tashlit took the clothes, while Avery made sure there wasn’t something else. She found a scarf with colors similar to Tashlit’s many eyes, and then the sketchpad and brush Verona had handed over. “You draw?”
Tashlit made a ‘small’ gesture.
“You can’t hang out around Verona without putting some paint to page, I think,” Lucy said.
“I used to doodle a little and now I doodle a lot,” Avery said.
Tashlit nodded, emphatically. She took everything that was offered and hugged it to her chest, carried it into her cabin, and then re-emerged, arms empty.
“Happy?” Avery asked.
Tashlit nodded. She pressed her hands together into a prayer sign, and pointed at Lucy.
“Yeah, if you could? That’d be… it’d be great,” Lucy said.
At Tashlit’s instruction, such as it was, Lucy sat on the log by the fire and then rolled up her shirt as much as she could without being indecent, before putting a hand behind her to lean back. She peeled off bandages.
It was gnarly. The deepest parts of the cut were only about half an inch deep but that was really deep when it came to the ribs. Around the stomach there was just flesh and it looked uneven and not great. All of the gouges seemed to get shallower as they crossed Lucy’s ribs and stomach, but the longest one traced a path across skin a foot long.
Avery had scraped her stomach on the bridge and that had bothered the everloving crap out of her until she’d gotten it mostly healed. She couldn’t imagine having four of these rents. She winced.
“Ave,” Lucy said, “what I was saying before? You’re cool because you keep your cool. The fact you had something as awful as what Olivia did to your friendship and your family ignoring you and you kept on trucking? That takes grit. I like that you’re always out there, watching our flanks and stuff.”
Tashlit gestured, and Lucy nodded. Tashlit laid hands over Lucy’s biggest wound.
“If you want to have a little breakdown or whatever, you’re absolutely due. Verona and I have had ours. Just don’t do what I did and shut us out. Reach out. I’d be… grateful if you would, if that’s not too weird a word for it. And if you don’t need to and you stay gritty and whatever then… thanks?”
“Okay,” Avery said.
“Did I mention I didn’t sleep that well?” Lucy asked.
“You did.”
“Because I’m rambling.”
“You are. Don’t worry, Lucy. Don’t worry.”
Lucy nodded, eyes closed.
Avery sat on the far end of the log, by Lucy’s feet. She watched as Tashlit lifted up her hands. The big cut was only a red mark now. It still looked inflamed and scabby at the part that had been deepest.
“Better,” Lucy said, quiet. “Will it scar?”
Tashlit looked it over, eyes roving while the rest of her was still, then held up two fingers. Made a so-so gesture, then held up three.
“I looked it up and wounds from ghouls don’t always heal up easy,” Lucy said. “Or they never heal and you just hurt for a long time.”
Tashlit shook her head, then held up fingers. Two, hand shake, then three.
“Two, maybe three sessions?” Avery asked.
Tashlit nodded.
“That’s a relief,” Lucy said, leaning back a bit more, elbows and forearms resting on the log. “Thank you.”
Tashlit stood, walked over to the front of her cabin, and washed her hands in the barrel right outside. She pulled a music player out and put a song on. It was a dark, gritty sound with a sweet voice over top of it.
“Oh hey,” Lucy said, smiling. “I gave this one to Verona. You like it?”
“Cool. I’ve got some more I can put on your music player when we’re done,” Lucy said. “You’ll need to give me reviews, as repayment. Some of this is stuff I’d love to talk to someone about but Verona is hit or miss and Avery isn’t super into a lot of it.”
“I tried,” Avery said. “I’m down to try again.”
Tashlit nodded.
“Hey, Tashlit?” Avery asked. “How about you, huh? Lucy’s over here talking about grit and coolness and you seem cool enough with things. How are you?”
The series of movements from Tashlit was hard to interpret. Avery tried to follow or pick up on the sentiment of it and she couldn’t.
So she looked past, eyes meeting Tashlit’s, and that was easy enough when she could look at any part of Tashlit’s body and see at least one eye staring back at her.
“Sorry, I don’t really follow.”
Tashlit pointed at the old music player.
Dark and gritty with a sweet voice cutting through it.
“I’m not sure how to interpret that either. But I think what Lucy said to me goes for you too. If you need anything, or if you want to have a bad day, you let us know, okay? We’ll do our best.”
Tashlit nodded. She pointed at and between them, then clutched hands together, drawing them to chest.
“I know this one,” Avery said. “Want? What do we want?”
“This is great on its own,” Lucy said. “I already feel better.”
Tashlit, sitting on the log, hand over the wound, nodded, and gave her a thumbs up.
Avery made herself check the time.
She reached into her pocket and unfolded a collection of papers. She sprung up to her feet, and laid them in a circle around Lucy and Tashlit. Tashlit paused in what she was doing as the third paper was laid onto ground.
“It’s okay,” Lucy said. “You can trust us. And if this was nefarious, you have me as a hostage you could take. It’s not a binding like that.”
Tashlit nodded, very still, eyes tracking Avery.
Avery set the fourth paper down.
The pages fluttered in the wind, but the fluttering seemed out of sync with everything else.
We’re being observed.
Avery used her Sight, starting with her own, to trace connections and try to source the connection that was out there, pressing at them. Mist moved, and she remembered from when they’d dealt with the Augurs that there were often hints.
When they’d been in the Alcazar she’d made out of the photograph, the sky had had eyes in it, many blinded.
The mist of her Sight swirled, and the world was rendered invisible, painted with handprints, many bloody. The water of the nearby river was a rolling mass of fleeting handprints and parts of handprints.
The band of connections was out there, extending to deep woods.
Her head turned, snapping to one side. And the band of connection retreated, disappearing. She changed to Snowdrop Sight, to try to see past obstructions, and wasn’t fast enough.
The papers went quiet.
“Who was it?” Lucy asked.
Avery shook her head.
“But someone was watching.”
“Yeah.”
“I think we’re good now.”
“Yeah,” Avery said. She turned to Tashlit, who cocked her head. “Thanks for looking after Verona, Tashlit. You’re great. It meant a lot.”
Tashlit laid a hand over heart. If she had a heart. Same place, anyway.
“If you want to say no, totally cool. You’re spending power here and there’s nothing big, but…”
Avery looked to make sure the papers were okay.
“We might need some backup.”
Tashlit gestured and Avery didn’t really follow the specifics, but she got the intent. So did Lucy.
It was a yes.
“Thank you,” Lucy said. “Really, whatever it is we can do, music, anything you need to buy… I’m- we’re happy to help. You looked after one of my top four people.”
Tashlit gestured. Pointing down, tapping wrist, a pinching-the-air gesture, like she was indicating something small.
“Here?” Lucy asked. She got a nod. “Time… small?”
“Stick around for a little while?” Avery asked.
Tashlit nodded.
It was hard not to feel like the clock was ticking, but…
“You got used to having company, huh?” Avery asked.
Tashlit nodded.
“What were you up to before we came?” Lucy asked.
Tashlit got up, went to wash her hands, and then walked over to the shore. She picked up the stones she’d placed there, and carried them off to the side.
There was a wall in progress. Tashlit was laying moss between the stones, piling them up into a wall.
Avery and Lucy walked over, and Avery picked up the papers. Lucy brushed at her less-injured stomach before pulling her shirt down, and they looked at what seemed to be a garden in progress.
“Whatcha growing?” Avery asked.
Tashlit bent down and picked up cards. There were tomatoes and cucumbers on them.
“Huh. Do you like them?” Lucy asked.
Tashlit touched her lower face. No mouth.
“Just growing them for the heck of it?” Avery asked.
Tashlit shrugged and nodded, her lower eyelids raising, body jerking slightly.
“Cool. It’s a neat project. And mossy walls are tops,” Avery said.
Emphatic nod.
“Oh,” Lucy said, as the song changed. “Let me put something else on. I’ve listened to this one too much, I’m sick of it. I’ll run some songs by you. Anything you’re in the mood for, feeling-wise?”
Tashlit made fluttery motions and then dropped her hands with emphasis.
“I’m… going to take a stab at fitting a song to that and you let me know how close I landed.”
Thumbs up.
“Verona’s gonna catch up with us. I’m going to text her to let her know we’re hanging out. Then she’ll probably hang for a bit here too,” Avery said.
Tashlit nodded, with emphasis. Then she glanced back in the direction they’d come, not to look herself, but to pose, or convey something. Tense.
Avery told her, “It’s okay. She’s okay now. The visit with her mom seemed to go really well, she’s staying at Lucy’s mom’s place now and things seem cool.”
Something in Tashlit relaxed a bit.
Lucy put some music on.
Avery checked she still held the paper, then said, “It’s other stuff Verona and us have to worry about.”
“Of course. I’ll help,” John said.
Verona, Avery, and Lucy held papers, guaranteeing privacy.
“What will that help look like?”
“It might mean sparring against some Kennet Others,” Lucy said.
“Hopefully there’s no fighting or sparring or whatever. You being with us would help a lot,” Avery said. “Both as implied protection and for the little boost to courage.”
“Do I command that much trust?” he asked.
“Do you think you shouldn’t?” Lucy asked.
“I hope I do deserve that trust. I think I do. You looked after Yalda before she was bound. Told her about me?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll support you until you’re in clear violation of the contract you made with all of us at the Awakening.”
Lucy nodded. “Thank you.”
John nodded. He took the little games that Verona had brought and set them aside, bending down briefly to slip them into his bag. There was also a collection of darts Avery had grabbed on impulse. No dartboard, that had been too expensive. Just darts. She figured John could improvise. He seemed to like it.
“Can you think of anything we’re overlooking?” Verona asked.
“Overlooking in what way?”
“Just… the likely culprits of the Carmine’s murder seem entirely too relaxed,” Verona said.
“Some of the local Others have fifty years of experience for every year you have. Some are naturally canny, others have abilities or special competence in certain areas,” John said, voice quiet, clear, and even. “This isn’t their first time dealing with circumstances like this. For some it isn’t their hundredth.”
“And the ones who haven’t been around that long?” Verona asked.
“Or who won’t be? Shorter lifespans can mean less to lose, or more need to go all-in, so to speak.”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “Right. Okay.”
“And then there’s me. I’ll live a long time until killed or the war ends. I don’t know what the end of summer brings, but I have hopes. I can give you an answer to your question but I’m not sure if it’ll be the kind of answer you’re looking for.”
“Anything we’re overlooking,” Lucy said.
“I say this not because I expect you to lose or to die or to suffer any particular fate. I don’t know what this will bring, or what the end of summer will bring. But I’ve lost many,” John said. He touched the tags at his collar, then gripped them through his shirt. Metal clinked. “Make sure there are no regrets. Get your affairs in order. Be ready in case one, two, or all three of you are…”
John paused, trying to find words.
“Killed?” Verona asked.
“Verona,” Lucy answered, a sharp rebuke.
“…put in a situation such as one where I’d need to take a bullet for you to save you, and I’m not fast enough.”
“Killed,” Verona repeated, not making it a question this time.
“Yes.”
Avery exhaled, then shifted position, uncomfortable.
There were no words for a good short while in the wake of that. Avery both relieved that she wasn’t the only one speechless- there was solidarity in that. But it was also devastating in its own right.
“Sorry,” John said, settling into a sitting position, moving his bag to be closer to his foot. “If that’s too much. All I mean is- be prepared for this to not go the way you need it to. Even if it comes to you getting hurt, cornered, imprisoned, if you have plans or things set in motion, you don’t want to think ‘I should’ve’ in the moment before you have no options. Be prepared.”
“What does-” Lucy paused, swallowing. “What sort of thing would we need to do to be prepared?”
4:30pm. Protecting family.
Whatever happened, they couldn’t let this fall on their family. They were big weak points.
It was a repeat of two weeks ago. Avery had pulled off her shirt, wearing an athletic bra and shorts, and she was beaded with sweat, every inch of fabric soaked through. Paint fumes made her dizzy, even with the runes she’d inscribed that blew the air around the attic, a steady breeze that was supposed to also dissipate the chemical smells.
Fixing and updating the diagram, expanding it to all four corners of the attic. She added some protection against any remote viewing or spies.
Snowdrop passed her a bottle of water. Avery chugged it.
“I wonder what my dad thought,” Verona said.
“Huh?” Avery asked. She walked over and Snowdrop held up the phone so she could see Lucy in her room on one half of the screen, and Verona and Verona’s dad’s basement taking up the other half.
“He got on my case for not finishing the painting and this is… it’s actually pretty good. Just needs some around the edges. A bit of sanding down where it clumped.”
“I dunno, Verona. I think it takes something bigger than that to get a jerk to stop being a jerk,” Lucy said.
Avery wasn’t sure what to say. The closest approximation to that kind of stubborn jerkishness would’ve been Sheridan and Sheridan wasn’t exactly ten variations on terrific, but Sheridan had turned around and showed she could be something other than the bratty big sister. Sheridan had her moments of cool. Jessica had been a hard nut to crack but Jessica was cool.
As Lucy and Verona chatted, talking about painting and the rune, Avery flicked through.
Jessica had sent a picture of herself and her girlfriend in their house. It looked small but it was packed with decorations, to the point that some stuff was sitting on the ground around the base of some of the tables next to a futon. Avery was fond of the stone carvings and she’d asked, and Jessica had sent pictures of some.
America Tedd, maybe? But she barely knew America. She could think of her as abstractly similar to Verona’s dad but she couldn’t say for sure.
Which left Avery vanishingly few points of her life experience to compare to. The one that her mind kept going back to was Grumble.
And she really didn’t want to dwell on that.
“All good?” Snowdrop asked. “You’re looking sharp.”
“Just… I want to do this,” Avery said, straightening, focusing. She took in the painted diagram. “Protect my people. As annoying as some of them are.”
“Awful,” Snowdrop said. “They’re not my people, you know, even by association, and I’m having to sit here and help. So you’re on your own.”
“Okay, Snowdrop. Thanks.”
She resumed painting, being very careful not to mess up lines, because a too-fat stroke was something that required about twenty more strokes to balance out.
“Lucy overheard stuff about Toadswallow’s plans. You mentioned the Sage thing.”
“Nah, didn’t tell you all of it.”
“It’s sounding like he wants to make a market?”
“He didn’t tell me, after he found out Lucy overheard.”
“I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
“I am.”
“Yeah, well… you wouldn’t be in charge, right?”
“Of course I would. Sage Snowdrop and head merchant?”
“Hmmm. Who would, his girlfriend?”
“Who knows?” Snowdrop asked. “Everyone except Toadswallow and his choice, maybe.”
“Maybe,” Avery said. “Keep me filled in?”
“Screw that.”
“Yeah.” Avery straightened and blinked a few times as sweat got into her eyes. She couldn’t wipe at it easily with the bits of paint on her fingers.
“You okay?” Snowdrop asked.
Avery could feel Snowdrop passing on some vitality through their shared bond.
“You don’t have to do that. Do you think you can sneak down to the fridge? There’s a sports drink in there and if I’m sweating this much I think I need the electrolytes.”
“No way. But I know for a fact,” Snowdrop whispered, “there aren’t any ice cream sandwiches in the freezer.”
“How in the frick do you know that?” Avery asked. She considered for a moment, then studied Snowdrop’s expression. “How many have you had?”
“None. Don’t worry.”
Avery winced. “You know, my siblings are liable to go ballistic if there aren’t enough to go around? I wouldn’t rule out murder, necessarily.”
“It’s fine, there’s plenty left.”
Avery, sweating, hot, sticky, and tired, considered how good an ice cream bar would be in this moment.
She looked at Snowdrop. “Technically, there being none is less likely to result in murder than there being one or two left, right? Nothing to fight over.”
“That is irresponsible thinking and I, for one, am not about to put up with it,” Snowdrop told her.
“Avery! Sheridan, Kerry, Declan! Dinner!”
Avery drew in a breath, double checked the note she was working on, then stuffed it into her pillowcase.
In an ideal world she would’ve liked to be done by now, fixing wording, tweaking things to fit better, to convey feelings better.
She wasn’t a writer.
She headed downstairs and as she did, Declan bumped into her, making her miss a step, her shoulder hitting the wall.
“Declan, you penis!”
“You C-word!”
Declan had not gotten the reality check she had hoped for.
“Sheridan, Avery, can you help Grumble?”
Avery approached the chair and went to Grumble, taking his arm. Sheridan took the other arm, and together they stabilized him while he got to his feet.
“Hey Grumble,” Avery whispered.
“Hey’very. Y’rre good girls,” Grumble said. “Even you, Sherr’n.”
“Uh huh. I don’t believe you,” Sheridan said.
He’d been sleeping before dinner and he was a little more mumbly than usual.
Every footstep took about two seconds and moved him one foot closer to the tail end of the table. Declan made unhappy noises about having to set the table, filling and bringing a pitcher of water.
There was a kind of jingle and clamor to it all, even in the moments they weren’t talking. The clatter of silverware and jug touching table, the clinks of dishes being brought in from kitchen, the back door sliding open to let the breeze in, chairs squeaking on floor.
Then the voices were overlapping, her parents in sync in the kitchen, her siblings in the opposite of sync. Grumble mumbled something more to himself than to them, shuffling closer to the table. Kerry ducked underfoot, eliciting a not-wholly playful kick from Sheridan and a shout about not knocking Grumble over. Kerry’s voice took on a Fernanda-like tilt to it, from when they’d all been making dolls at the Blue Heron. Pitched to get the most attention possible.
Her mom set a dish down, and then pulled out the chair for Grumble. They settled him beside where Mom sat, and Avery put his bib on.
She got him sorted, adjusted the haphazard placement of silverware and Grumble’s easy-to-hold, unbreakable glass, then gave him a hug.
“Uh!” he grunted. “Whassis?”
“I love you,” she told him.
“You too,” he replied.
She kept the hug going a bit longer than she normally would have, then kissed him in the side of the head.
Kerry was pulling the TV around and Sheridan kept the flatscreen from wobbling off the stand.
As they all got settled, Kerry turned the channel on. The singing competition. A rerun.
Avery hid the face she normally would’ve made. Sheridan was looking and she didn’t want to give Sheridan fuel.
“Remote,” Avery’s mom said.
Hope? No singing show rerun? Avery crossed her fingers under the table.
“But-!” Kerry raised her voice.
“Remote, Kerry K.J. Kelly. Pretty please and thank you, no objections this time. We’ll watch your show when we’re done.”
“Done dinner!?” Kerry exclaimed, her world shattered.
“Done talking,” Avery’s dad said.
The remote was handed over, the television muted.
Her dad addressed the table. “This is going to be a brief but very important family discussion. And I do mean discussion. We need to talk about something serious.”
Avery had already spent the day on high alert, and she didn’t miss the fact that her mom reached over to place a hand over Grumble’s.
Avery’s next big set of preparation was foiled. Spending time with family, finding a way to say goodbye and tell the people she loved that she loved them. Something else was coming up.
“On the upside, there are ice cream bars for dessert,” her mom said. “So let’s tough this out.”
The alarm clock by the head of her bed flashed 8:20pm.
“You have a plan?” Zed asked.
“Yeah,” Avery said.
His face was clear on the laptop screen. Brie sat next to him, chewing on something.
“Heavy.”
“We’re thinking about, um, contingencies, I think they’re called. What happens if…” Avery said, trailing off, and she gestured.
“We still owe you for looking after Brie’s situation. So if there’s anything you need, let us know, we’ll see what we can do.”
“For right now… keep an ear out? I don’t know what’s going on there or how preoccupied you are, but…”
Brie looked at Zed. She chewed on licorice.
“If we don’t get a call, we should get curious?”
“Please.”
“Okay. How’s three days sound?”
“Sure, that’s-”
Paper by the window fluttered.
She pressed lips together, using Sight to investigate the surroundings. She could see the connection.
Snowdrop-Sight let her see around the corner. A goblin, near the window. An eye peered around the corner, then darted out of view before she could focus on it to see details. Medium sized, a two foot tall goblin standing or a three foot feet tall goblin sitting down, judging by where the head was, which unfortunately encompassed most of the new goblins.
She typed: being watched, at the same time she asked, “How are things with the new headmaster?”
“Ray’s pretty tired. He’s trying to pick up the slack where the new headmaster isn’t the best at some stuff, I think it’s a kind of vice principal role. It’s not his skillset.”
Brie spoke up, “It’s not his skillset, but in my perspective, he’s much more… whole, this way, I think? Helping, dealing with people.”
“Are you still mad at him?” Avery asked.
“No,” Zed said. “It’s a flaw of mine, that I can’t stay mad enough for long enough that it matters. Probably a good thing, because Ray can’t stand people being mad. Not anymore.”
“Yeah.”
Text appeared on the screen: Still?
The goblin was still there, listening in.
Avery nodded.
“So are you good, you need help, or anything?” Zed asked. “Or…?”
Avery shook her head. “Only the little things I mentioned before.”
“Absolutely. I’ll check in. I’ll tell the others you said hi, same idea?”
“Sure, let them know I’m trying to stay in touch, and if I don’t then that’s, you know, circumstances.”
“Will do,” Zed told her.
Brie typed, leaning over for the keyboard.
Good luck, was the message.
Avery smiled, nodded, and then ended the call.
She climbed out of bed, disturbing Snowdrop, and the movement scared off the goblin, who fled the rooftop before Avery could get to the window to take in the breeze.
Avery returned to her bed, getting the letter out of her pillowcase, with only one new sentence added to it, and read the partial paragraph over twice before handing it to Snowdrop to read.
A call to Zed, an email to Nicolette, a text to Fernanda, who’d left the Blue Heron to handle family stuff. If they needed rescue, hopefully this kind of message and contact would help speed that process along. Making sure that friends knew what was happening.
Or what had happened.
Connection blockers up with time limiters. If they weren’t home in twelve hours then they didn’t want or need the connections to stay blocked. It meant something bad had happened.
Until then, their parents might not remember they existed. Not the most unusual thing in the world for Avery, but Lucy and Verona held themselves differently as they met up.
They cut through the bottommost end of downtown, carrying bags and boxes. This wasn’t a place the Others hung out and it was oddly easier to move through the busiest parts of the town than it was to move through quieter spaces.
That wasn’t to say there wasn’t anyone. The papers rustled and the runes degraded.
They passed through a crowd and Avery’s eyes were on every face, trying to find the ones that stood out by not standing out. Lis. Or a potential Fae. However good the glamour it took a lot for a Fae to not want to stand out in some way.
It was Reggie who crossed their paths. The Composite Kid. Tousle-haired and somewhat androgynous, skinny and tense, Reggie rustled papers as he passed, then kept going.
They made sure they weren’t tracked any further, then accessed the house on Half street. Avery double checked the anti-tracking countermeasure was working. She didn’t know what they could do in order to do any better except to seal off this space entirely and access it by Paths, and she was pretty sure the other two wouldn’t go for that.
Almost no connections touched the four of them as they entered. No bands followed at their heels to suggest anyone followed their tracks or paid attention to the courses they were taking. They slipped into the place behind a fold in reality, that fold wrapped around a signpost, rearranged with a movement of the sign, sealing itself closed behind them. Avery stayed outside a bit longer than the others, looking out at the sky and surroundings. Snowdrop hung back with her.
Avery and Snowdrop joined the other two in the living room. She looked at the big window where the connection blockers and anti-augury things were already arranged. It looked like Verona’s work.
Lucy held up a paper. “From Reggie. Passed to me.”
“And?” Avery asked.
“Rook is trusting us with information. Our doppleganger and cancer stick are with the candle spirit,” Lucy told her. “They were out there.”
“Okay.”
“Doppleganger, cigarette, some of the goblins, probably,” Verona said.
“I had one outside my window,” Avery told them.
“We’ll prepare accordingly.”
They unpacked bags and sorted things out.
10:00pm, Avery’s phone read, the silent alarm going off. She’d worried she’d nod off or something and screw up somehow. It marked a milestone.
One hour to go.
“Would you ever think about taking this place as a demesne?” Avery asked.
“After this summer? Maybe,” Verona said. “Our town spirit picked it with that idea. When I needed a hiding place, this was available, I guess. I dunno. I might not be a demesne person. You were talking about being the fastest in your own little world…”
“And you feel like the world’s a lot of tightly contained spaces with their own rules already?”
“Yeah,” Verona said. “Would you pick a skating rink? Or something else? Is that how it works? Do we pick that arena of choice?”
“I’d do something else, I think. I think of, I dunno. A house without a floor. Ropes and things.”
Verona laughed. “That’d be out there.”
“Isn’t it? Or a loft with enough open space on the second floor where you could have a big hammock or something stretched across, like they do in tiny houses.”
“That’s neat. I can see it. Path-y.”
“Yeah, with doors and windows out to Paths. Maybe so you can peek through?”
“My mom was talking about passions and not having any one particular passion for herself. And that’s cool, but like, how do I decide on a place to call my place of power if I do something like that? How do you define a space and make it cool if your approach to practice or to the world changes all the time?”
“No idea,” Lucy said. “Make it a changing space?”
“Ennnh,” Verona grunted.
“Fair.”
Verona spread out stuff she’d done on the beach. One of the books had sand at the bottom edge of each page.
“Where are we on the checklist?” Avery asked. “Gearing up?”
“I don’t have all my usual gear,” Verona said. “Stuff broke, my mask included.”
“We’ll sort things out,” Lucy said. “But that’s soon, not right now. For right now… expectations.”
“Prepare for the worst and hope for the best,” Verona said, quiet.
Lucy looked down at her phone, then set it aside. “Let’s go over possibilities. Odds, your best guess, how likely do you think this is going to work?”
“Eighty per-” Avery started, at the same time Verona said, “Sixty-”
“Sixty?” Lucy asked.
“Remember day one?” Verona asked. “Awakening day? Miss said I’d make a good practitioner because it took me so long to come around to being a bit Aware, or something.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s the same kind of thinking, isn’t it?” Verona asked. “If you can think of ten different ways that goblin you’re seeing might be a prank or a trick, then after you’ve awakened, you can think of ten ways around something. Or ten ways this could go wrong.”
“Let’s assume a sixty percent chance of succeeding,” Lucy said.
“Should we be doing this if it’s only sixty percent?” Avery asked.
“If I told you no, right now, what would you do? What would our game plan be?”
“I don’t know,” Avery said. “I guess… we can’t stand by and let the end of summer come. But we could take more time.”
“If you have any ideas on what more we could be doing, or advantages we could gain, or anything else,” Lucy said. “If you have any inklings… I’m more than okay with going home and tearing up papers, and returning to business as usual.”
Avery paused, thinking. She shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Verona?” Lucy asked.
“Then tell me those ten ways you think this could go wrong. Start with the biggest.”
“Us counting on the wrong type of person,” Verona said.
“Then let’s work on that.”
10:23pm. Forty-nine minutes until the deadline.
Runes to contain fire and to manage spirit. Runes for smoke, for light. Warding signs against echoes, and the spell cards and salt to dispel them. They had runes for expelling water, both for dealing with the Girl by Candlelight, and to contain any fire.
They drew the runes on skin and clothes both. Then, because it was hot out and because it was dark, they dressed in heavier clothing with more pockets and sleeves, then drew the runes to stay cool. As air and moisture circulated, hair and clothing stirred.
The more they worked, the more it felt like the arena was shrinking. That this was a place for them to face off against an opposing team, with defined bounds and rules they could keep in mind or turn to their advantage.
Snowdrop brought water, brought a pepperoni stick for Lucy, and then went to stand watch outside. Avery could see the back of her head through the window.
When it came to practical, drawing-diagrams type practitioner work, Snowdrop couldn’t do much more than provide moral support, and with how tense things were, Snowdrop’s most ardent moral support came in the form of verbal abuse. Which didn’t, much of the time, lift morale.
It was fine. She was an ally.
Edith had allies too.
Matthew meant Doom, he meant heartless practices. Avery tied her hair back into a ponytail, minimizing the strands that could be tugged free in a reach. Lucy braided her hair. Verona put a hood up.
Because Verona was fastest at drawing the runes, they had her sit with laptop in lap and Avery used Verona’s drawings on Lucy’s arms, shoulder, and back to remind herself of what to put where. Verona took the time to message Nicolette. Images popped up on the screen as she downloaded them. Anti-curse, anti-Doom.
For Maricica, they had fireworks they’d bought while shopping, and they had the silver bells the Witch Hunter had left behind. Lucy rigged up some light runes on paper to go with the bells, then rubbed them down as best as she could to burnish the silver.
Lis, Fae, and Cig to some lesser degree could all go in a similar category. Things that confounded or slowed down Fae could maybe slow down Lis, because she was subtle like that. Cig was vulnerable to water like Edith was.
Beyond that, they had to remind themselves not to trust strangers.
“Think I’m done,” Avery said, taking the marker off of Verona’s skin.
“Almost done, don’t move,” Lucy said, working on her other side.
“Moving my arm to turn a page.”
“Okay,” Lucy held the marker away. Verona turned the page, and Lucy resumed drawing.
“I know this sounds awful, but… countermeasures for John?” Verona asked.
“Circle, distract, tag, trap, anything to move faster than him, because we probably get one good chance. Pray there’s no distractions,” Lucy said.
“There will be,” Verona said, “probably, right?”
“I don’t think John’s a problem, but let’s keep the plan in mind, really firm, and if there’s a problem, improvise while sticking to that plan.”
Verona nodded. “Tashlit, ugh. I’ve got the script in my notebook. If we have to bind her in a pinch I can do that. It’ll probably take a couple minutes. Otherwise… ugh. Ugh!”
“Nobody likes this,” Avery said.
“Hurt her. If I can’t do it – not talking emotionally, but if I get knocked out or transformed or something, one of you guys should be prepared.”
Avery hesitated, then got her phone. She took pictures of the binding circle and religious Babylonian script outlining seven gods.
“Next…” Verona said. She sighed, heavy.
Just in case a friend turns out to be unfriendly…
They ventured outside, avoiding people. Long clothing helped to mask the drawings they’d done on skin. Masks, hats, and capes were in reach, except for Verona, who had no mask.
Their destination was the same car lot that Zed had parked at. Outside of Kennet, to the north.
John and Tashlit came to them. Guilherme followed after. Coming from the south. John wore a t-shirt and dark green pants with cargo pockets. Tashlit wore a new top. Guilherme was shirtless, beaded with small amounts of sweat in the warm summer evening, the ends of his long hair sticking to neck and shoulder.
If that was supposed to tickle anyone’s fancy, Avery didn’t really get it. It felt like a purposeful move on his part.
Tashlit gave Verona a high five, and then stood behind her, hands on her shoulders.
“Thanks for coming, Guilherme.”
“Of course. Will you shed some light on what is happening here?” he asked.
“Don’t you know?” Lucy asked.
He smiled.
“Will you distract Maricica?” Avery asked.
“Does she need distracting?” Guilherme asked.
“Don’t you know already?” Lucy asked, again.
The Faerie chuckled. “I’m fond of you, Lucy, but this is inelegant.”
“That’s the Faerie way of saying go fuck yourself, I think,” Verona whispered.
“There’s too much going on tonight, Guilherme, so if you want to keep to oaths and support us, please, deal with Maricica and ask questions later, give me your slow and careful education after, and I will be glad to have it.”
“And I will be glad to teach,” he said. “Much as I will be glad to observe whatever things of importance are happening tonight.”
“And deal with Maricica?” Lucy asked.
“I have dealt with Maricica for too long already, what’s one more-”
“Yes or no?” Lucy asked. “I don’t have the patience right now.”
“Yes. I will distract her and keep her out of your hair for the time being.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“I must teach you rhetoric, dear Lucy. It breaks my heart in small ways to see you be so blunt when you have such potential for grace.”
Lucy looked up at him, a slow, careful, studious look, eyebrows drawing together more than usual.
“If you must,” she said. “Another time, let’s hope.”
“Another time,” he answered. “I’ll go now. If you’re anticipating her then she’s already anticipating me.”
“Thank you, Guilherme,” Avery called out.
He waved his response as he walked away.
“What do you intend?” John asked. “I can see lines at Verona’s neck. Guilherme is being used as a distraction.”
“It’s okay, John,” Miss said. She approached from shadow and stopped short of stepping out into clear light. Branches between her and them blocked the view of her face. She wore light summer clothing, hands in the pockets of pants with flared legs, black hair catching the wind.
“Ah,” John said. He let out a deep breath, then smiled. “You’ve returned. Small reliefs.”
“I shouldn’t enter so long as Montague may be made to hold the diagram.”
“You know Tashlit?” John asked.
“We met briefly. I would love to talk more, but for now I can only ask your silence, and cede the floor to greater authorities. Some immortals are endlessly patient, but this one isn’t.”
“Such a way of introducing me, Miss.” The voice was deep.
The blackness behind her deepened. The Sable Prince stepped out of the darkness behind her. Trees rustled and leaves went still, branches creaking and bowing.
Leaf turned to black stone, branches doing much the same. Grass splintered, more like needles and blades that cracked underfoot. Were it any other foot, they looked like they could stab through or slash neatly across flesh, but these footsteps hit ground as if the man in the black suit with the black dress shirt was an elephant, not someone resembling a human. Hair was long and combed back in backwards-sweeping locks, and his beard was trimmed to the edges of the jaw and a goatee shape, sans mustache, the edges clean at chin’s edge, but at the extremities his hair was wild, curled, and dense in a way that threatened to catch at any hands or utensils that touched it. His shoulder-length hair was similar. More akin to a horse’s mane that became a bramble patch, but the same blackness and material from root to tip.
Avery glanced back at others. John’s expression changed several times and when it settled at something closer to where it had been, the darkness in his eyes seemed deeper. He seemed more reluctant to look at her, or Lucy, or Verona, Tashlit, or Miss.
“The arguments were presented and outlined fairly,” the Sable Prince addressed them. “You want special dispensation?”
Lucy spoke up. “We were asked to investigate. We’ve investigated. Edith appears to have wronged us, but we can’t say for certain if she was compelled to. Whether it’s compulsion or whether she’s wronged us by shirking her oaths, we think it’s best to bring her into custody, so she might answer questions.”
“So granted.”
“Just like that?” Verona asked.
“Is there a reason you’re not certain?” he asked. “Did you expect less? I can amend.”
“No, no. I’m used to having to fight things more to make stuff happen,” Verona admitted.
“The fight will follow from this. You know this, don’t you? If you wear runes and carry weapons? These are your bodyguards?”
Avery looked back at John and Tashlit and nodded. Lucy and Verona nodded too.
“Justice is yours to mete out,” the Sable Prince told them. “If the justice or lack thereof is misplaced, it will be misplaced onto your shoulders.”
“You mean if we picked the wrong person?” Avery asked.
“Do you think you picked the wrong person?” he asked. “Again, I may amend.”
“No. Something’s going on here.”
“Then it’s not a concern,” he said. “I will accompany you and oversee. That simple act will make things easier for many of us, for very little effort from any of us.”
The three of them exchanged glances.
“Have you changed your mind? That will reflect poorly on all of you,” he said.
“Go,” Miss said, quiet. “Be careful. Don’t make him wonder again if you doubt your course of action. You decided after careful deliberation. Now see it through.”
Avery nodded.
They turned to go. John and Tashlit followed a step behind. The Sable Prince followed after.
His footsteps were a thudding drum beat. His shadow, long, moved in the wrong directions for the light around them, as if there was a special, invisible sun directly behind him, casting a shadow only for him, to make it as stark and long as it was.
As they approached the tunnel that would let them pass under the highway, the highway emptied. Cars continued on their way, and no more cars came.
The lights on either side of the tunnel turned off. Foliage near the tunnel entrance crackled and twisted, leaf and branch turning to stone, knots in wood to veins of ore. A distance behind them, greenery transformed back to green, trees leaping and reaching back up to original heights, if not higher.
They entered their first street and people carried on their way, going to where they were going. But nobody followed after. Where it was normally a hustle and bustle and people came and went, they only went, now.
Doors slammed. Lights were turned off with such ferocity that it seemed as if every breaker had been hit. Businesses and houses went dark, streetlamps went out.
The Kennet that they approached went still as they entered it.
“Call,” Lucy whispered.
Avery dialed the number.
It rang twice.
Doors slammed as people entered buildings, as if they forgot to be gentle as they were moved on their way.
“Hello? Avery.”
“We’re coming by. It’s important.”
“What is it?” Matthew asked.
Avery went to hang up. Then she heard a voice.
“Avery.”
Edith’s.
Avery didn’t answer.
More lights went off. It felt like distances were shortening, in the opposite of whatever knotting was.
“I know what you’re doing. This won’t be as easy as you’re picturing.”
“Okay,” Avery said.
She hung up.
She glanced back, and looked at the Sable Prince. “Declared our intent.”
“As you see fit.”
Just like that?
“I arbitrate on matters of right and wrong, karma and course, for all things in my province. Why do you think this is all so bloody?”
“Because the furs are here?”
“Because the arbitrator isn’t. It all unravels. This is what used to be. It will get bloodier still. Until the end of summer. Then we will force a conclusion.”
Avery glanced back at John. His expression was unreadable.
They approached Matthew and Edith’s.
And Edith, followed by Matthew, who reached for her shoulder, trying to stop her, had eyes that glowed.
“You don’t realize-” Edith said. Her voice faltered as she realized how dark it had become. She saw them.
“Edith, what are you doing?” Matthew asked.
Avery could see Edith’s face, and she saw the moment that she recognized that the Sable Prince was there.
All fight dropped away. She let Matthew hold her shoulder.
Surrender, just like that. Which didn’t mean this was over.
“It’s decided,” the Sable Prince told Edith. “You’ll have your opportunity to respond.”
She didn’t even nod.
Next Chapter