Author: Wildbow

Loose Ends – E.4 | Pale

3 Months Later, Avery

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“I have serious issues with this,” Avery told her parents, following them as they went through the kitchen, getting things sorted.

“So you’ve said.  But we talked it over, and honestly, we need to take a new direction with all of this,” her dad replied.

“Your dad ran it by the council, talked to Miss, she investigated.  She thinks it’s workable.”

“Why wasn’t I invited to this talk?”

“Because you would have protested long and loudly, and biased people’s opinions.”

Avery was pacing back and forth to stay close enough to see her Mom and Dad in the face as they were talking.  Her parents went from fridge to counter, counter to living room.  Glasses, water, cheese, prosciutto, vegetarian platter.  Her dad pulled a baguette out of the oven with a drying cloth, and nearly dropped it because it was so hot.

“Maybe opinions should be biased?  If someone has an informed opinion they want to share, they-” Avery pivoted on her toes to avoid tripping over Smudge.  “-careful.  Isn’t it good if we get all the input possible?”

“Miss has a good eye and she used it.  Now how many times have you brought that up with us?  Used it to justify why you should be allowed to do certain things?”

“I didn’t exactly use it-” Avery had to put a hand on Smudge’s head to help steer around him.  “Dude.”

“Avery,” her dad said, turning.  He laid hands on each of her shoulders.  “We talked it out, we talked to other people and the council, we heard and appreciate your input, but we do have to be parents and make decisions for you, and your siblings, and this household.  It can’t be you saying you know the most about magic so you get the final say, forever.  We took our time working it out and got input.”

“You have to be parents but I have to be a teenager in this household.”

“Two households, still, with most of your time spent in another, but yes,” her mom said.

Avery frowned.  “Not making me feel better by picking my words apart.”

“It’s going to be a test run.  Nothing’s moving in a big way for a while yet.”

“You have every right to be annoyed,” her dad said.  “If this doesn’t work out, you can give us a huge ‘told you so’ and we’ll make it up to you.  Until then, can we beg for some cooperation?”

“Okay.  But can I get some slack on chores and school for the next little while?  Especially if I’m taking on more responsibilities…” Avery trailed off.

“Slack on chores, let’s stay on track with school.  Your dad and I will discuss and get back to you,” her mom replied.

“Triple slack if this ends up being a mess?” Avery asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably not, but we’ll talk..  Your cooperation makes that talk better.  This is about Nora?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll talk.  For now, here.  Charcuterie board, on the table, please.”

“This is a lot,” Avery said, taking the board from her mom.  It was loaded with crackers, cheeses, grapes, olives, and, separated by ceramic walls, in a dish incorporated into the board, pepperonis and folded meats.  Little knives of varying sharpness, spoons, and little spear fork things were set in the spaces between individual foods.

“Whatever we don’t eat we’ll save for a gathering tonight.  Adult only, we’ll send you kids out to a movie or something.”

“Babysitting Declan and Kerry?  Or can that be something I’m getting slack on?”

“Do you want slack on it, or do you want to save the slack?”

“Save.”

“Okay.  Absolutely.  Kerry’s probably going to be with Kinley until late, so that’s off your plate.  If they go to the movies, Caroline’s probably on babysitting duty, so that should make it easier.  Table.”

Avery turned to take the board over.  She nearly tripped over Smudge.  A knife fell from the charcuterie board, and she stuck her foot out, kicking the handle.  It flipped up and arced back, impaling the wood of the board.  Little boon from the Black as Spades Path.

Smudge stood on his tiptoes to reach up and get a piece of meat from the cutting board.  He stuffed it into his mouth, looking up at Avery.  He was round-faced, black haired, slightly pudgy, wearing a black and grey flannel shirt open over a black tee with the Burger Bin Burglar on it.

She went to move around him, and he moved at the same time, same direction.  She would have dropped food and sharp utensils all over him if she hadn’t been expecting it.

“Is Sheridan using her familiar bond to tell you to be a pain in my butt?” Avery asked.

He glanced right, then left.

“Can you use that familiar bond to tell her she’s a butt?”

“Yeah,” he replied.  He paused.  “She says you need to be more elaborate.  Be creative in your insults.”

“I don’t believe that you’re communicating with that much detail.”

“Maybe we’re a better practitioner-familiar pair,” he said.

“Okay, sure, Smudge,” Avery said.  “Tell her she’s being an Odell.”

“Is that new slang?” Avery’s mom asked.

“It’s a low blow,” Smudge said.

“Blasphemy girls character.”

“You’re better than that, Avery,” Smudge said.

“Uh huh?”  She went to move around him, and he chose that moment to reach up for more food, off a board she was holding above his eye level.  “Smudge!  Sheridan!   Call him off already!”

She’d raised her voice to be heard upstairs.

“Volume, please,” her mom said.

Avery could hear Sheridan laughing from the floor above them.  Smudge snickered too.

Avery’s mom leaned into the front hallway to call upstairs at almost the exact same volume she’d admonished Avery for using, “You can come downstairs and help, Sheridan!”

“She says okay,” Smudge said.

“And use your voice to respond, not your familiar!”

“She says okay, again,” the boy said.

Avery’s mom sighed and shook her head.

Avery set the charcuterie board on the table.  “You think of a magic family, skip the mess of the higher end families, doing it right, but then you realize that even doing it right, your siblings will have freaking exponential increases in their ability to annoy you.”

Smudge pressed his hands together, fingers steepled, smiling.

“Yeah, sure,” Avery said, messing up his already messy hair as she passed by.

“We picked up the supplies you wanted,” Avery’s dad told Avery.

“Oh, thanks.”

She snatched up her bag from the front hall and brought it through, moving to the corner of the kitchen furthest from the bustle so she wasn’t in the way.  Protein bars, cheese, drink mixes.  She set some aside, put others away, and went to refill her water while she was at it, rinsing it out.

When she went to reach for the protein bars she’d laid on the counter, half were gone.

She turned to face Sheridan’s familar, hands on her hips.

He fished in his pocket, and pulled them out.

“Dude,” she said, reading the labels.  Carrageenan and soy.  “Give me back my protein bars.”

“I don’t keep track of what’s in my pockets.”

“No,” Avery said.  She knelt down in front of him.  She stuck her hands into his pockets- cargo pants, side pockets.  There was enough stuff it jumbled together.  Some goblin trinkets and tricks, goblin candy, durian tuna protein bar- she pushed stuff back into his pockets, sorted through contents, pulled more out.  “Cricket and coffee bean?”

Smudge reached for that one.  She dodged his hand and put it back into his pocket.  If one side cargo pocket had four things in it, she could pull out two or three, put them back, and then pull out two or three different things.  Sometimes they repeated, sometimes not.

“Can you not do this in the middle of the kitchen while we’re sorting things out?” her mom asked.

“He took my bars, I want them back,” she protested.  “It’s such a waste!”

“I’ll eat it,” Smudge said, shrugging.  “Not wasted.”

She put hands around his throat, mock-strangling him, while using her familiar bond to beg Snowdrop for help.

It took less than a minute.  Snowdrop came in the front door, nearly colliding with Sheridan, who was coming down the stairs in the front hall.  Sheridan put arms around Snowdrop, picking her up around the armpits, swinging her in a quarter circle, before Snowdrop wriggled free and closed the distance to tackle-hug Smudge, who Avery held partially in place.

Smudge became a raccoon, while Snowdrop became an opossum, both hissing very menacingly.  They shifted between human and animal forms while play-fighting.

“They’re not that close-” Snowdrop said, while human.  Smudge set fangs into her neck.  She became an opossum, slipping free, and became human again, lifting him over her head.  “I wanted to avoid them, let them come here on her own, but we met when Avery called and I ran here.”

“How far away are they?”

“Twenty minutes walk,” Snowdrop said.

“Snowdrop and numbers don’t mix.  Near or far, Snow?” Avery asked.

“Far.”

Avery’s mom frowned.  “They were supposed to be half an hour or so from now.”

“That’s not like them,” Avery noted.

“Checking,” Sheridan said, texting.

“In the meantime, can you two animals not turn this kitchen into a warzone?  Go.  There’s plenty of food, but don’t make a mess.”

“Promise,” Snowdrop said.

Avery’s dad returned from the back room where Grumble’s ground-level bedroom was.  “Dad’s watching a show, dozing, somehow, with all this commotion.  Kerry’s at Kinley’s, with Caroline babysitting.  Declan’s upstairs, probably hoping he can dodge the chores we called Sheridan down for.  We have food, drinks, we’ve talked strategy.”

“And I miscommunicated,” Sheridan said, eyes on her phone.  “I said they could come for twelve thirty and there’d be food, but we’d probably start half an hour early.  Which I guess they took to mean they should show up at noon.”

“Shoot, that’s… there were things we wanted to get out of the way, first,” Avery’s mom said, sounding a bit anxious.

“We could ask them to stand out in the rain,” Sheridan said.

“That’s not reasonable.  Damn it.”

Her dad rubbed her mom’s shoulder and arm.  “We’ll manage.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Sheridan said.  “That’s my input on strategy.”

“We just got over this with Avery,” Avery’s mom said, hands on hips.

“Technically not over it.  But I’m playing along,” Avery said.  “Reluctantly.”

“Did they bribe you?” Sheridan asked.

“Only sorta.”

“Bribe me too.”

“We’ll talk after.  And you two…”  Avery’s dad looked down at the two animals, sighing.  After being ordered to not turn the kitchen into a warzone, they had moved from kitchen to dining room.  They were still play fighting, teeth not breaking skin, hissing, growling, and sounding like a murder was in progress, and ‘clawing’ at each other, when they’d curl claws in and use knuckles or slap instead.  Snowdrop got Avery’s familiar-bond nudge and glanced up, but Smudge used that opportunity to try to get her pinned under him.

Avery’s dad used the toe of his slipper to prod the two.  “Separate.”

The two rolled away from each other.

“My boy,” Sheridan said, extricating Smudge, lifting him up.

Avery got Snowdrop, communicating a silent ‘thank you’ for occupying Sheridan’s little monster.  Snowdrop sneezed.  Her little body was heaving from the recent exertion.  “If Smudge doesn’t cough up the protein bars he snatched up, I want replacements, Sher.”

“It would be fair,” Avery’s dad said.

Sheridan rolled her eyes.

“If-” Avery’s mom started, only to be interrupted by the doorbell.  “-Damn it.  Later.”

Avery moved Snowdrop to her shoulder, and was the first to the door.  She opened it, stepping aside.  “Come on in.  Welcome.  Sorry for any chaos.”

“Sorry for the awkward timing,” Raquel said.  She and Beatrice Wint were on the doorstep, Raquel with her hood up, Beatrice with an umbrella, beaded with light rain.

“Thank you,” Beatrice Wint replied.  She and Raquel came inside and immediately took off their shoes.

“Hi Sher,” Raquel said.

“Heya.  Sorry for this nonsense.”

“It’s fine.  Want to hang out later?”

“Sure.”

Avery’s mom asked, “Can I get you anything?  Do you have a preference for drinks?”

“Tea?” Bea asked.

“Can do tea.  Raquel?  Same?” Avery’s mom asked.  Raquel nodded.  “Same.  Any preference?”

“I’ve been told to keep to low caffeine teas.  Caffeine stunts your growth.  Any green?  Or lemon ginger?” Bea asked.  “If it’s no trouble.”

“Earl grey, orange pekoe, or black, I’m not too particular, and I like my caffeine,” Raquel said.

“I’ll see what we have.”

Bea wore a raincoat that left Avery unsure if it was old fashioned or high fashion- black with a bit of a mantle over the shoulders.  She took it off, looked for where to hang it, and Avery took it.  The closet turned out to be too full, every hook being occupied, many hooks with two or three coats, and so she hung it on the post at the end of the railing, instead.

Avery would have said Bea had dressed up, but Bea always looked like this.  Hair cut with severe bangs across the forehead, clothes prim and proper, with an unfolded collar buttoned halfway up her neck, the bit around the buttons faintly frilly, little suit jacket, navy blue pleated skirt, and tights.

Raquel wore something a little more easygoing- a yellow sweater with a thick braided knit, that went to mid-thigh, and black pants.

“Thank you for coming,” Avery’s dad said.  “You know everyone, I think.”

“I don’t believe I know your oldest or youngest, but I don’t see them here,” Bea said.

“Right.  Rowan’s in Thunder Bay, working.  Kerry’s at a friend’s.  As for Declan… if nobody objects?”

Avery and Sheridan exchanged a look.

“Not hearing objections.  Alright.  Declan!  Would you come downstairs?  We have polite company, so pull on some jeans!”

The responding groans from upstairs were audible.

“Is it… common for people in your house to not wear pants?” Bea asked.

“No, but sometimes we wear pyjama pants when lounging, enjoying the weekend.”

“Outside of bedtime?” Bea asked.  She seemed to stop herself.  Avery wasn’t sure, but Raquel might have nudged her.  “As you do.”

Raquel and Bea were on more of a wavelength, and Raquel had unofficially adopted the girl.  It helped a lot that Bea respected Raquel’s upbringing and family, even if Raquel had bailed on the Mussers in general.

Declan made his appearance at the top of the stairs, red hair tousled, wearing a t-shirt with two very different game characters facing off in some apparent joke, and near-white jeans.  His eyes widened at the crowd in the front hall.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked, looking at Bea.

He didn’t sound like the brother Avery had grown up with, when he said that.  Avery felt like it was more the other Declans talking through him.

“What a good way of getting to the subject at hand,” Avery’s dad said.  “Come on down.  Let’s talk in the dining room.”

“If this is about the bullying accusation from before-”

“No.  But it’s related.”

“Because that was the other Declans.”

“And the other Declans each say it wasn’t them, it was the other one and you.  Even if you weren’t directly involved, it wasn’t great,” Avery’s dad said.

“Let’s not rehash it?” Avery’s mom asked.

“Maybe keep it in mind,” Avery said, under her breath.

Her mom put a hand on her shoulder, eyebrows slightly raised.  She’d heard.

Everyone assembled in the dining room.  The table had snacks, drinks, and the kettle bubbled to life in the kitchen.  Avery’s mom closed the door to mute it.

The table had enough room for everyone, but it was a crowded sort of room, so Sheridan pulled a chair back into the corner, sitting there with Smudge in raccoon form in her lap.  Raquel sat beside her, scratching Smudge behind the ear.

Avery held Snowdrop in her lap, Bea sitting between her and Raquel, opposite Declan.

“This is weird,” Declan said.

“It is unorthodox, you’re right,” their dad said.  He looked at their mom.  “We talked about strategy but figuring out how to broach it is tricky.  I don’t want to tread on toes or talk about private matters.”

“Are you talking about my ADHD?” Declan asked.

Trust Declan to just say something while everyone’s trying to be circumspect about it.

“More about the bullying stuff you referenced earlier.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying,” Bea said.  “I’m fine.  What he and the other boys say or do is insignificant to me.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying either,” Declan said.  “Because she’s weird.  She’s the weird girl in school, she talks like that.  She sits on her own, she doesn’t want friends.  The only time she acts like we exist is when we’re in gym and she’s trying to murder people.”

“If I’m not trying my utmost, what’s the point?” Bea asked.

“Weird!” Declan said, pointing at her with two index fingers.

“This isn’t great,” their mom said.  “You taking that attitude is kind of the problem.”

“You keep talking around stuff.  ‘Kind of the problem’, strategy, private matters.  What is this?”

“I don’t want to put anyone in an uncomfortable position.  We want this to be positive,” their dad said.  “It’s hard to figure out an angle to-”

“You’re still treating people like ass, Declan,” Sheridan interrupted.  “Especially girls.”

“Bea, Amber,” Avery added.  “Kerry.  Me.”

Bea raised a hand a little.  “For what it’s worth, I still don’t care.  It’s a reflection on him, not me.”

Declan frowned, shaking his head a little.

“Let’s not dogpile,” Avery’s dad said.

Sheridan kept going, “You’ve been called into the office, your group of friends is getting shittier.  There was the drinking thing which you didn’t get caught in, but everyone’s guessing you were there too.  Snuck into bed and sober by morning, before parents called.”

“Why are we calling the weird girl and Sheridan’s friend in to talk about everything I’m doing wrong?” Declan asked.

“We explicitly didn’t want to do it this way,” their mom said, frowning at Sheridan.

“But it’s pulling teeth, doing it your way, trying not to talk about all that, while still talking about it,” Sheridan said.

“Look,” their dad said, leaning forward, partially putting himself in the way of Sheridan in the corner and Declan on the far side of the table.  The table creaked a bit with the weight of his elbows and upper body.  “There are two ways to guide someone.  The carrot, the promise of reward, or the stick, the punishment.  Salt Lake City was a carrot.  Part of what’s going on is our fault.  We’ve been distracted, we were busy, we and others have started using the stick.  Groundings, taking things away, your teachers have you and your friends sitting in three different corners of the seating arrangement, your mom and I aren’t especially keen on you three hanging out.  So you’re in the dumps, and… things aren’t great.”

“AKA: you’re being shitty,” Sheridan said.

“Sheridan, do you and Raquel maybe want to go for a five to ten minute walk?” their mom asked.  “Come back after we’ve hashed out the basics?”

“Do I and the padding around my middle look like I’m the type of person who wants to go on walks?”

“Not the thrust of what I was asking.”

Sheridan did a ‘zip lip’ gesture and passed the key to Raquel, who closed her hand around it.

Avery’s mom went to get the kettle and cups and bring them through.  As she went and came back, she said, “We don’t enjoy the stick, you don’t enjoy it, it’s not good for you.”

“Oh crap,” Declan said.  He looked over the table at Bea.  “Is she supposed to be my carrot?  Is this some freaky arranged marriage thing?”

“The fact he’s willing to go there is a good sign, gotta say,” Sheridan said, glancing at Avery.  “Good instincts.”

“You’re not lying,” Avery muttered.

“I thought you zipped your lips,” their dad said, to Sheridan.  Sheridan clapped a hand over her lower face.

Raquel had a slight smile on her face.

“Holy shit, was I right?” Declan asked.

“Don’t swear,” their mom said.

“Marrying her?” Declan asked, pointing at Bea.

“No,” their mom said.

But it was Bea, talking at the same time, who said, “Gross.”

Avery thought of Charles.  She looked at Declan, she saw the nuances on his face.  Indignation.  Faint hurt.  Because he was just old enough to be caring about how he came across.  Old enough to be paying a bit more attention to the clothes he wore.  On the cusp of caring about girls, maybe.

“Gross because we’re talking arranged marriage, right?” Avery asked.

Something in her tone seemed to get Bea’s attention.  Maybe her parents, too, because the stride of conversation changed a bit.

Bea nodded, silent.

“Just making sure.  Hey Dec?”

“Why are you even here?” Declan asked.

If one word had been carried by Charles for all those years, him protesting it didn’t affect him… in the same way Bea protested the bullying didn’t get to her.  That question, in its various nuances, was an unspoken one Avery had carried too.

As if Lucy or Verona, for the first long while of their time together, could’ve turned to her in a moment of anger and asked that, and she wouldn’t have had an answer.

He didn’t even know.

Didn’t even know why and how she was trying to protect him from an off the cuff response from Bea.  Didn’t know how deep that question cut.

“Dec,” she said, dead serious, trying to move past that question he’d asked.  “Mom and Dad are wanting to offer you a carrot so crazy big it’s freaking me and Sheridan out a bit.  I’m willing to bet it’s ten times better than the biggest thing you could think to wish for.  What do you think that could be?”

“I get to quit school and play games for the rest of my life.”

Avery stroked Snowdrop, thinking.  “I think it’s ten times better than that.”

Declan snorted.

“Want me to walk him through this?” Avery asked her parents.

“It would help,” her dad replied.  “We have to clue them in sometime.”

“So vague,” Declan said.  He looked like he’d shrunken into himself a bit.  “Talking about really good things, then acting like you’re getting ready for the bad news?”

“Not bad,” Avery said.  She rose out of her chair, moving Snowdrop from her lap to her shoulder.  Whiskers tickled her cheek and ear.  “Come on.”

“Huh?” Declan asked.

Avery walked through to the front hall, getting her bag from where she’d left it in the kitchen, and got out her chalk marker.  The front door had a lot of indents and inbuilt decoration, so it wasn’t a great surface to work on.  She took the middle part between four indents and drew a circle.  She sketched out the city magic work, then the markings for Kennet found in a half circle at the upper half.  Marks at the corners of the door frame, like she’d do to keep a practice in bounds for a page in her notebook, but for the door.

She stepped back, looking it over.

Then she cracked the door.

The light that came from the other side wasn’t the light that came in through the windows.

When she turned around, Declan had a look in his eyes.  Wary to the point of being wounded, it was laid so bare.

Grumble clapped a hand on her shoulder, rough.

“M’sorry,” he managed.  “Was a guheffer.”

Grumble needed help getting out of the car, since his legs weren’t mobile enough to be extricated out from under the passenger side dash.  Avery helped him and gave him support to turn around.  Her dad stepped in to help with the process of getting feet to ground, and Avery was left to step back.

Everyone got out of the car.  Avery’s bag, set beneath Kerry’s car seat, needed some pulling to come free.  She rescued her helmet, which she’d kept between her feet.

With two hands, she lugged the bag of pads up the stairs.  Her dad, who was guiding Grumble up the icy stairs, put a hand on her shoulder to guide her.  She held back, holding the door, while dad got Grumble inside.

“Kerry, it’s bath night.  You can get in there right away and we can read you a book later, or you can play and then have a bath, but no book.”

“Can I play a game or is Grumble taking the TV?”

“Kerry, do not take your clothes off while you’re on the stairs!  You’ll fall and you’ll die!”

“Always good to have a family night, right?”

“Ugggh.”

“I wanted a night with Laurie.  Speaking of…”

“Keys.  Go, don’t be out so late you wake us when you come in.”

“What if I sleep in the car?”

“It’s winter.  Do you want to die?”

“What if I’m willing to risk it?”

“Don’t.  Be quiet when you come in, that’s all.”

Avery had to fight through the stuff filling the front hall closet to find a spot at the back.  She deposited her skates there.

“Nice of you to lose so fast,” Sheridan said.  “Barely over two hours, compared to the usual, what, three?”

“Woul’f been longer if they’d in’herashun ‘hose hids.”

“What are you saying, dad?”

“Pehuldies.”

“Would’ve been faster if they’d infract the other team,” Avery said.  “Penalties.”

“Aahhh,” her dad said.  “Too bad.  Better luck next time?  Or do you want me to be one of those dads who yells at the refs?”

I’m not counting that one, Avery thought.  He doesn’t get it.

“Not allowed,” Rowan said.  “You’d get kicked out and Avery would get kicked out too.”

“Get us out sooner!  Yes!  Now I want to see!” Sheridan crowed.

Grumble was the only one who paid any attention to hockey, and it wasn’t on his top ten favorite things.  For the rest of them, whether she won or lost, it barely changed their moods.  Didn’t change the course of the night.

Avery’s mom half-turned.  “Did you get a chance to talk to Olivia?  Kerry!  Go all the way upstairs before stripping down for the bath!  I’m worried you’ll slide down the stairs.”

“No,” Avery replied.

“Declan, not too late.  Did you do your homework?” her dad asked.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want to come down at two in the morning to find you snuck down to play in the late hours of the night, okay?”

“It was a borrowed game.”

“Maybe invite her over sometime?”

Avery realized it was her mom talking to her.  “Huh?”

“Olivia?  It’s been a while.”

“Oh, yeah,” Avery replied.  She shrugged.  Too much to get into.

“G’nigh’,” Grumble mumbled.

“Goodnight dad,” Avery’s mom said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Guheffer, Ahrry.”

Saying it again.  Good effort, Avery thought.

“Thanks.  Good night.”

“The dishes need doing.”

Sheridan immediately touched a finger to her nose.  Declan, in the living room, did the same.

“I can do them,” Avery said.

“Thank you.  You’re awesome.  Angling for a bump in your allowance?”

Avery shrugged.

“Suck up,” Sheridan said.

There were a few calls of goodnight, overlapping, everyone trying and probably failing to say goodnight to everyone else, while they were going their separate directions.  Declan to the TV, Grumble and her dad to the downstairs bathroom, Mom and Kerry to the bath.  Rowan was going out.  Sheridan went straight to her room.

Avery did the dishes, running water and clanking dishes periodically interrupting the muted noise of Declan’s game in the other room.

She finished, dried, and dried her hands.

She didn’t want to go to bed.

She went partway up the stairs.  “I’m going for a walk.”

“What was that?  Goodnight, Avery.”

Avery rocked back and forth on her heels for a second, hand on the railing.

Then she turned.  Out into the darkness and the cold.

She didn’t know where she was going.  Hands in her pockets, she walked to the convenience store.  Her stomach felt too tight for her to feel like eating or drinking anything, but it was a place to go.

That’s the most family engagement I’ll get for…

She thought forward.

Two weeks, game at Terrace Bay.  Her team would take the bus.  Then… two more weeks, was it?  ‘Home’ game against Wawa, but ‘home’ in that case was in Tripoli.

Three and a half months.

Her streak was still running strong.

The hockey games and practices were still a diversion.  The walk now was a familiar thing made unfamiliar.  After school, whenever there wasn’t practice, everyone disappeared.  Her only teammates at the high school that were her age were Melissa Oakham, who ran off to dance pretty much every day and was with the other girls from class when she didn’t, and Audrey and Aubrey, who weren’t in her class.

What was she supposed to do?  Hey guys, sorry to approach you out of nowhere, but I’d like to beg you to spend time with me like a loser.

She didn’t know how to do that, and the fact they were a pair made it harder.  Two people.

So when school ended and she didn’t want to go home, she had nowhere to go.  The convenience store visits to get snacks she didn’t care about were a regular thing.  She’d go to the library sometimes.  Even though she didn’t really like books that much.  If she was going to be quiet and alone, then it was a place to be.

She’d read a lot of books on Buddhism, because Ms. Hardy had talked about it once and had a bracelet.  She’d read a book by a sports psychologist twice.

When there was an event or a crowd of kids, or when she was too restless to read more, she’d wander the outskirts of Kennet.  In fall she’d been on her bike, and would spend minutes to trudge up a hill to ride down in seconds.

Fucking whee.

She’d choose destinations that meant she swung by Pam’s house on the way there and back, because a glimpse of a kind and pretty face was like a gulp of air when the hours felt suffocating.

Now she walked similar tracks, but it was night.  The library was closed, the convenience store that was part of that same strip mall was empty enough the employee was outside, smoking in the cold.

Avery looped back south.  Mrs. McKittrick was out there with her dog.  A German Shepherd Avery had asked to pet once.  But the reason Mrs. McKittrick walked her so late was because she was so aggressive it wasn’t safe around other dogs and people.

That conversation had broken one of Avery’s streaks of effective silence.

Avery’s route took her along the side of a road that didn’t have a sidewalk.

Cars whizzed by, and by all rights, she knew she should be stepping off the road, into the snowbank.

One even veered close enough to her it felt like a message.  Go.  Get off the road.

She received that message and she pressed on.

She didn’t want to hurt herself.  She didn’t want to die.  Still, if she got hurt?  A hospital room?  Her parents coming in?  Her siblings being told to play nice?  Attention?  She’d go to school and people would want to know what happened.

Shivering, and not necessarily because of the cold, she made herself step away from the road.

She was sore from where Olivia had bludgeoned her over and over again.

Trudging through snow now, she got a message on her phone.

Mom:
Where are you???

It had been almost fifteen minutes.  She typed a response.  Out for a walk.

Mom:
Don’t stray too far.
Steer clear of downtown.
Bedtime soon.

Avery put the phone away.

She was already pretty far.

Still going through the snow, out toward the factories, just to see if anything was lit up at night- maybe people living there?  She saw a woman.

Tall, wearing coat and sweater, standing in the snow with her back to Avery.  Black hair blew in the wind.

She contemplated breaking her streak.

Turned to go.

Then turned back.  “Are you okay?”

“Avery Kelly,” the woman said, without turning around.

Avery felt goosebumps prickle her skin.  The prickling doubled when the woman turned around, hands clasped behind her back, but the wind kept blowing the hair across her face.  She didn’t move to brush the hair away.

The phone beeped.  Avery pulled it out and glanced down.  A question mark.

She replied with a thumbs up.

When she looked back up, the woman was gone.

Avery trudged forward, through calf-deep snow.

The isolated set of footprints had no trail leading to them, or away… unless Avery had just inadvertently walked over it?  Except how did the woman get away?

Avery looked up, then around.

The woman was there, out a ways.

Avery pressed forward.

It took five minutes of persistence to get there.

“I’ve had my eye on you for some time, Avery.”

Avery shivered.  “You might be the only person who has.”

Ms. Hardy being the other candidate.

“Sometimes, when you push, you don’t stand still, pushing something else away.  Sometimes it means you push yourself back, away from it,” the woman said.

“Is this a riddle?”  Avery asked.  “How are you doing that?  Disappearing?”

“Isn’t everything a riddle?” the woman asked.  “Mysteries and unanswered questions.”

“Sure as heck feels like it sometimes,” Avery replied.

“What drove you to push so hard tonight?  At the game?”

Avery turned, looking out in the direction of the arena.  The lights had gone out.

She felt like ‘I don’t know’ would be the wrong answer.

Her heart hammered.

“Had to,” she said, quiet.

When she turned back, the woman was gone.

One more person asking questions without caring about the answers.

The voice behind her made her wheel around.  “If I asked you to help with a riddle, would you feel you had to push to solve it?”

“What’s the riddle?”

“It would likely be your job to figure out the questions, as well as the answers.  But we’ll talk about that in due time.  Would you?  Even knowing you could be pushing away from something?”

“What are the stakes?”

“We’re still determining that.  The stakes, the ramifications, the details.”

“We’d give you power.  Open a world to you.  Places to explore.  We could temper the risks, but we couldn’t prevent them altogether.  You’d be asked to keep secrets, and to uncover them.”

“But why?  What’s… why me?  Why would I be doing it?”

“The ‘why’ without elaboration would be part of the riddle.  The why you?  Because I think you’re someone special.  Why would you be doing it?  Among other reasons, some personal to you, for you to discover, you’d be serving and protecting Kennet.  With luck, if my estimation of you hasn’t failed, it would mean something more.”

“Did I fall and hit my head on the ice?  Am I making all this up?”

“That’s effectively up to you.  If you want that to be the case, you can go.  Your family can take you to the hospital, you’ll get scanned, it will show shadows.  They’ll be instructed to pay attention to you.  Tell yourself that.  It will become true, for all intents and purposes.”

Avery frowned.  It was eerily similar to her earlier line of thought.

“I’ll warn you, the other road is a potentially dangerous one.  Even with all the measures we might put into place.  If you’re interested…?”

The wind picked up.  Avery brought a hand to the side of her face.

The woman was gone… no.  She’d moved again.  Somewhere distant.

Avery rocked on her heels.

The option was implicit.

Trudge forward.  Press on.

Weirded out, confused, scared, Avery kept going.  Further from home.  Further into the cold and dark.  Out toward the woman.

Who moved again before Avery got that far.

Avery crossed the bridge, passed the convenience store there that a lot of the kids scrambled to go to during lunch, because it was close.

Then the woman was gone.  Leaving Avery in strange neighborhoods, about as far as she could get from home without leaving Kennet or crossing downtown.

She wandered, up and down blocks, a horrible feeling in her gut, that she’d chased this down, taken this option, and there was nothing.

Was this part of the test?  Part of the question?

Seeing how far she’d push?

Her phone bleeped.  Her mom again.  Saying it was bedtime.

She kept going.  Up and down blocks, certain she’d missed something, or failed some test.

Fifteen minutes passed.

“I had to talk to them,” the woman said, “and check details.”

Avery turned.

The woman stood between streetlights, where shadows were still deep enough to conceal her features.

“This way.”

Avery followed.

Between the convenience store and the nearest house, a lightless path.  The only light was the moonlight on snow.

Two girls were out there.  From Avery’s class.

Verona and Lucy, out by the shore.

Lucy looked at Avery like Avery had just insulted her family, an angry look in her eyes.  Except she always looked a bit like that.  More now than usual, though.

Verona’s face was hard to read, but her eyes were large in her face.  To Avery, it felt like Verona was almost emotionless, but then after some side conversation with Lucy, or when someone made a good joke in class, it would break.  Then she’d be laughing as hard as anyone.

Scary, kinda.

She didn’t want to die.  She didn’t want to hurt herself.

But if she went down this road, and something happened…

“You wouldn’t be doing it alone,” the woman said, from behind Avery.

More than the cold, the darkness, the weirdness, the teleporting, the idea of a head injury, or being clipped by a car and caught under the wheels, that got to Avery.

She wondered what her face looked like.  What did they see in her eyes?

Declan broke eye contact.  Avery kept staring into his eyes and expression.

He’s not Charles, Avery thought.

Struggling in his own way, privately.  Clinging to the wrong people because they were all he had.  Maybe angry, or something else.  Going down the wrong paths, in that struggle, in that groping for something.

“Go on,” Avery urged him.

Declan stepped forward, past her.  And he opened the door.

She’d switched the exit out for a way into Kennet found.  The same portal work they’d used to switch between Kennet above and Kennet below, after everything last summer.

“Is it safe?” Declan asked.

“Safer than most places.”

He stepped outside, down the lengthy set of stairs, made more lengthy by the fact their house had an extra bottom floor now.

Out into the front yard, to look out at a Kennet with its arching streets, canals, convoluted paths, and perpetual twilight.  Miss stood on the horizon, between the two towers that connected to the shrines, with bridges and constructions reaching between them.  As much a part of this landscape as the mountains, the river.

“Are you a mage?” he asked.  “Witch?”

“Practitioner.  Used to be witch, I guess, but they changed it.  Practitioner sounds more mature or something.”

“Snowdrop and Smudge are familiars?”

“How did you know that?”

“It’s in a game I played,” Declan said.  “Um.”

He did a quarter-turn.  Just enough she could see him swallow hard.

“It’s a lot, I know.”

“Can guys be witches too?” he asked.  “Or practitioners or whatever?”

“Yeah, Declan,” Avery said.

She saw him exhale in relief.

“You and Sher, I figured, but not Rowan?”

“He didn’t want to.  Mom and Dad didn’t either.”

He looked and sounded a bit like he was going to cry.  Overwhelmed?

“Sheridan’s friend?  And the- and Bea?”

“Raquel is.”

“I’m learning,” Bea said.  She had her umbrella in hand.  She knocked it against the ground, and the fabric part of it fell away.  An echo of a bird took off, beginning to circle.  The umbrella had become a rapier.

“That’s admittedly badass,” Declan said.

“I was holding back every time you were messing with me.”

“I wasn’t messing with you that much.”

“There are other people I don’t let mess with me once,” Bea told him.

He took that in, then nodded.  “Are you a dark knight or something?”

“Chainer and Destroyer in training.  Dark knight works, I guess.”

“Cool.”

“It’s a process,” Bea said.  “There’s an age limit.  We’re not there yet.  It’s a new thing.”

“Some people pulled the ladder up behind them,” Sheridan said, glancing at Avery.

Declan looked at her, surprised.

“It’s complicated,” Avery said.

“She’s actually pretty renowned, you know?” Bea asked.  “Your sister.”

“Is that a way of telling me this world kinda sucks overall?” Declan asked, half-smiling.

Sheridan chuckled.

“Not the best angle, Dec,” Avery said.

“I’m still your brother, right?”

“Yeah.  And I’m still your sister.”

“Until we’re at the age limit to Awaken, we learn, study, interact with Others.”

He gave a quizzical look back in their direction.

“Goblins, ghouls, all that sort of thing.  Her.  Miss.”  Avery indicated Miss on the horizon.

Miss turned their way, hair blowing across her face.

“Is there a big bad?” Declan asked.

“Big world,” Avery said.  “There’s lots.  We kinda beat ours.”

“Her and her friends, the local Others, allies,” Sheridan said.  “I had a cool moment.”

“Oh,” Declan said.  “When?”

“Few months back.  Start of the year,” Avery said.

“You got hurt.”

Avery nodded.

“Did you almost die?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought… Mom and Dad were acting funny.”

“Yep,” Avery said.  “My fault.  Sorry.”

“Welcome to the quiet time between big bads,” Sheridan said.  “Good time to pick things up.  I figure you won’t get conscripted for a little while.”

“Only if you choose,” their mom said, voice stern.

“But you’re gonna choose, right?” Sheridan asked.

He nodded, still looking around.

“Until we’re old enough, we use magic items like this.  Some of the Others and practitioners teach, we run errands, help the locals, tend shrines, visit neighbors,” Bea said.  “Break into it slow.  Figure out our options.”

“Okay,” Declan said.

“Bea’s at square one,” Avery’s dad said.  “You’re… there’s things we’d want to see before you’re there.”

“Kinda square minus one,” Sheridan said.

“All this time, you’ve been judging me?  Testing me?”

“Kinda,” Avery said.  “A huge part of what we were fighting was… we want to protect Others.  Protect magic.  Build something healthy.  That Mom and Dad can bring you into.”

That we can bring others into, Avery thought.  Nora.

“And I’ve been fucking up,” he muttered.

“Your mom and I thought it was unfair.  We’re holding you to standards and judging if you’re worthy for something and you don’t even know what it’s about.  You should know what you can achieve and get.  But… the way you treated Bea and Amber?  If you get power, will you treat others like that?  Will you study?  Because a mistake with some of this stuff could be scary.  For all of us.”

“I thought…” Declan’s voice lost its volume before he got to the third word.  “I thought that was all there was.  Me and the Declans messing around.  I went to Salt Lake City and Amber was saying those guys working on games work their asses off, and I saw what they were doing and… I couldn’t.  I’m not smart enough.”

“You’re not dumb, Declan,” their dad said.

Declan carried on, like he hadn’t heard.  “…and I’m not good enough at games or funny enough to stream professionally.”

“There’s more to life than games,” Avery said.

“Didn’t feel like it.  Doesn’t- didn’t feel like there’s anything for me.  Teachers talk about what we’ll do later, learning skills, and I’m not good at any of it.  What is there, except messing around, having fun when you can?”

“That was never all there was.  Even without the magic,” Avery said.

“All the whispered conversations.  It’s this?”

“Yeah,” Avery said.  “Mostly, I figure.”

“I thought maybe Mom and Dad were splitting.”

“I love your mom,” their dad said.  “No way, no how.  I’m really sorry if we let you think that was even possible.”

“Kept leaving me and Kerry out of talks.”

“Out of love, to protect you.  Things were scary and bad for a long time there.  We wanted to keep you out of it,” their mom said.

“I thought it all kind of sucked.  The only jobs I’d want are impossible, shit, or both impossible and shit.  Why bother, right?”

Avery stepped forward.  “Believe me, I get it.  I’ve been there.  I get that feeling.  But believe me also when I say that there’s more to life.  There are times I wished I’d never gotten into magic.  That I could just be normal, with the real life stuff I’d found after getting a little bit further.”

“Nora?” Declan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Is she…?”

“She doesn’t know.  And I’m terrified that if I show her now, it’ll push us apart, but if I wait too long, she’ll leave.”

“She’s cool,” Declan said.  He smirked a bit.  “Aside from questionable taste in girlfriends.”

“Har har,” Avery said.

The smirk fell away.  He took a second, then he said, “I don’t know if you need me to vouch for you or anything…”

“I don’t think a vouch from my little bro will make or break the difference here, but thanks,” Avery said.  “Really.”

He smiled again, in a goofy way.

He still looked like he could cry, a bit.

“How much is there?” he asked, whisper quiet.

“More places than you could visit in a human lifetime,” Avery said.  “More types of practice than you could shake a stick at.  Different families and groups focus on different ones, or put their own spins on it.”

“Do we have one?”

“Ours… relates to places like this.  Exploring nonsense worlds.  Ones that sometimes have riddles, quests, and challenges.  Bit of a game quality to them.”

“That thing Verona and you were asking about,” he said.  “Chessboard thing.”

“Yeah.”

“Did what I said help?  About breaking stuff?”

“It might’ve helped some.  I passed it on to friends.  They did end up working out some patterns.  I think your instincts are better than Sheridan’s, Dec.  When it comes to that stuff.  Other stuff… there’s time.”

“You can choose your own path.  No obligation to get into the family stuff,” their dad said.  “We’d need you to be a good representative of our family, whatever path you chose, before we felt good about it.  Someone who can be a leader, say no to the other Declans when they’re being crummy or reckless.  Someone who reaches out to people in need.”

Declan wasn’t really responding a lot.  It seemed like he was taking it in.

Avery remembered walking through that field.  The feeling.  The chills.

“Dec?” Avery asked.  “Why don’t you go for a walk?  It’s safe here.  Take it in.  This is a lot.”

“While you’re at it, take in the fact that this is a place Avery and her friends made, by dropping a big magic bomb on Kennet,” Sheridan said.

Declan looked at Avery.

“We’ll- we’ll talk about everything later.  There’s a lot of history, a lot of details.  Endless questions, I’m betting,” Avery said.  “For now… experience it?  Get centered?”

“Go with him?” their dad asked their mom.  “I should stay close to Dad.”

“You go,” their mom said.  “It’s been a long, hard journey.  Late nights working on homework, frustration with school.  You and him should have this.  I’ll look after your dad.”

Avery let Snowdrop to the ground, and she became human.  “Be gentle?”

Snowdrop nodded.

Declan, wide eyed, watched Snowdrop as she approached.

Smudge ran forward, and Avery had to body block him.  “Go easy.”

Smudge smiled mischievously, then evaded around her to run forward.

Dad, Declan, and the two familiars went for a tour of Kennet found.  A bit more emotional space, Avery figured, to take it all in, ask what he needed to ask, get what he needed to off his shoulders.

She wondered if a big part of her, feeling the frustrations with Declan, legitimate as they were, had been tainted by the parallel frustrations with Charles.

It hadn’t been until Bea’s comment that she’d been shaken into even making the comparison in the first place, so she could think her way past it.

“I hope this isn’t obnoxious,” Avery told Bea.

“It likely will be.  It’s fine,” Bea replied.  “Can this count as volunteer work?”

The students, practitioners, and practitioners-to-be in Kennet, which included many of their Aware, were all doing a kind of community service, to earn discounts at the market and favors from Others.  The idea was to give a lot of incentives, to encourage a more Kennet way of thinking, instead of the bare minimum interaction to get what knowledge and resources Kennet had to offer.

“We wanted to avoid making Declan’s course correction someone else’s responsibility,” Avery’s mom said.  “Especially a girl’s.  It should be his and his alone.”

“But based on recent experience with the local Aware, he’ll probably nag with questions and stuff,” Avery said.  “You’d be doing us a grace if you tolerated that.  To be repaid with a grace in kind.”

“Very well.  And a grace if I kept you up to date?”

“Maybe.  It’d be nice if you became… I won’t expect friends.  But acquaintances?” Avery’s mom suggested.

Bea scrunched up one eye.

“Practitioners of the same age group,” Avery said.  “I know Raquel doesn’t vibe with Liberty, exactly.”

“But I’ll work with her,” Raquel said.

“Right,” Avery said.

“Very well,” Bea agreed.

“You informing on him might get in the way of that,” Avery’s mom said.  “It’s uncomfortable.  I’d rather he gets away with minor things and knows he can trust you in a pinch, whatever your interactions are like.”

“That’s fair,” Bea said.  “To those ends, should I help him get away with things?”

“Let’s maybe not go that far.”

Declan was now out of sight.  Avery had a dim sense of the tone of the conversation through Snowdrop, but she didn’t pry or analyze.  There was a lot of back and forth.  More talking than the silence she’d hoped for.

She gave Snowdrop a slight nudge to tone things down.  To be gentler.

Declan seemed happy, though.  An impression that came from Snowdrop in the same way the sun’s light bounced off the moon.

“I wasn’t on board to start with, but I think it was a good decision, actually,” Avery told her mom.  “Declan, letting him in a bit.”

“I’m glad.  Thank you for guiding him into it.”

“It’s kind of the role I fell into, local Aware, breaking Innocence some,” Avery said.  “There’s more guiding to do, still.  Lots.”

“Absolutely.”

“You too.  Spend extra time with Kerry.  If he’s got those feelings, worries, if he’s filling in blanks wrong, she could too.  Don’t let her slip through the cracks too.”

“Of course.  Bit scary.  We should have double checked more, after you asked about it.  With Declan and Kerry both.”

Way back at the start of fall?  Yeah.

“I’m so proud of you,” her mom told her.

“Thank you.  You’re not so bad yourself,” Avery said.

“Speaking of pride, though,” her mom said.  She turned to Raquel.  “Sorry for all of that.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of.  It was good,” Raquel said.

“We wanted to ask about other things, while we were convened as a family.”

“The major players.”

“Yeah.  We won’t be able to avoid dealing with them forever, will we?”

“No.  Especially not while Kennet’s doing what it’s doing.”

“Sheridan and Avery said you’d be able to give advice?”

“Better than most, I guess.  I grew up being told how to act and what to watch for, when it came to them.  The idea was always to make the Musser family synonymous with practice in Canada.  To take Toronto, and be spoken of in the same breath as Japan, Paris, London.  I was only ever a pawn, to be married off for an incremental movement toward that goal, but I was around enough of it to see how things are done, how they think.”

“Any direction you can give helps,” Avery’s mom said.

“How harsh do you want me to be?”

“Constructively.”

Raquel nodded, paused a second, then said, “You need to organize better.  I am sorry for the miscommunication and Bea and I coming early.  But major players will throw you for a loop too.”

“They showed up right before we went into the Crucible to go after Charles,” Avery said.  “Basically, ‘Hi, are you going to play ball?  Don’t make us visit again.  Bye.'”

“Yeah,” Raquel said.  “You need to be able to handle it.”

“When it’s business, it’s easier,” Avery’s mom said.  “Family’s hard.”

“Well, business and family are entangled, here.  Some of the powers out there will seize on any weakness and won’t accept apologies or clarifications.”

Avery nodded.

“Sheridan said you go business mode sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

“Be business mode more.  United front.  Sheridan, I love you…”

“Awww.  Did I fuck up in corrupting you?  Goal was to make you a secret degenerate, not to have you fall in love with me.”

“Not gay, still love you, no comment on the degeneracy.”

“Things for me and me alone to hold over your head,” Sheridan said.

“No comment.  You need to redirect those energies.  We can talk about that on our own.  Crummy as it is, most of these powers expect children to be seen and not heard… Avery, I think your record means you get a pass on that.  But Declan won’t.  So… convey the seriousness, have a code or signal.  Be ready to switch modes.  No talk back, no jokes, no sibling jabs.  Not when you’re dealing with them.”

“I’m reminded of when Miss told us about Fae,” Avery said.  “I feel like we could go that route… but we’d have to be consistent about it.”

“Dangerous,” Raquel said.  She squinted.  “Do you want to?”

“No.  Because I feel like they’d want us to back it up.  But it’s worth raising as an option.”

Raquel nodded.

“The way mother talked about it, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Bea said.  “If you had the opportunity to deal with them, you had to be at peak performance, no hints of a flaw.  If you were good enough, if you’d taken the best possible course in your life, up until that moment, then you could have an in.”

“Fail, and that visit from them is the last thing you get.  They destroy you,” Raquel agreed.

“And if we’re the ones visiting?” Avery asked.

The door slammed into existence.

Avery went still, hand on the door handle.

She’d dressed light, button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow.  Charm bracelet, wooden bead bracelet, friendship bracelet barometer, friendship bracelet non-barometer, wreath of thorns, ribbon, Sootsleeves token, firefly house, copper laurel, and several temporary tattoos extended from the back of her hand to where her sleeves were folded up.  Her Blessing of the Goblin Sage was tucked under the folded part of the sleeve, for politeness’s sake.

She had a messenger bag instead of her backpack, and her mask hung off the side of that, in reach of her hand if she reached back, but far enough back her hand didn’t bump it when she was walking.  She had her cape too, and wore it loose around her shoulders.  The antler fragment from her mask was poised above one corner of her forehead, hanging in the air.

No weapons in evidence, even on the charm bracelet or inside the bag.  She did have spell cards, but she figured that got a pass.  The band on them would have to be cut before they’d be accessible.

Sheridan, Declan, her mom and her dad had all dressed up too.  At Raquel’s suggestion, after weeks of back and forth, they’d hammered out an ensemble that wasn’t too uniform, but that still let them look and feel like they were a loose unit.

Which meant a lot of green, tan, and white.  Avery’s dad wore a vest over a white shirt and, she had to concede, pulled it off.  Her mom wore a nice business-y dress.  Declan wore a sweater with a button-up under it.  Sheridan was wearing a jacket she’d gotten with an outfit on the Promenade, along with a green dress.

Snowdrop was wearing a grey and white dress with a small opossum skull at the strap at her shoulder, another with a built-in clip to pull hair back.  Smudge wore black and grey, evocative of an old fashioned newsboy, with a flat cap and little suit with thick material, that made him look wider than he really was.

Avery pushed the door open into the front lobby of Wonderkand.

There were easily two hundred people in the lobby alone, at a ratio of maybe four practitioners to every Lost.  A broad front desk that reminded Avery of a hotel’s had ten people behind it, working as receptionists, some doing paperwork, others at computers.  Behind that desk was a column- an elevator shaft.  Staircases framed it.  Men, women, and the occasional child all wore suits, most going this way or that, with some lingering behind.

Maybe one in twenty or one in thirty people broke from that look, having very unique appearances.  Avery knew from experience and research both that Wonderkand’s elite had a specific aesthetic, old fashioned and elaborate, and she could see a couple.  A man dressed like a military officer attending a fancy-dress event, medals on display, and an old woman with an overly elaborate hat that looked like it had a full garden on it, and a white mink coat.

Even if they hadn’t been dressed up, the way everyone seemed to glance their way or give them a lot of space conveyed their station here.

The Lost were mostly paired up with people or groups.  Many of those Lost wore suits too.

They approached the desk.

“Last name?” a woman asked, without looking up.

“Kelly.”

“For a meeting with… Milton.”

“Yes.”

“He’s expecting you.  You’re to have a guide, for our security and your edification, should you have any questions,” the woman said.  She finally looked up.  “You were the talk around the metaphorical water cooler for a few days last year, Avery.”

“Was I?”

“You drenched several staff members in urine, went head to head with a crowd of our employees, and kicked our C.O.O. of security off a Path.”

“Are there going to be any hard feelings?”

“Broadly?  I don’t imagine so.  Individually?  Varies.”

“Alright, thank you.”

“It looks like Mr. Bryant is free.  I’ve paged him, he’s…”  The employee craned her neck.  “There.”

Mr. Bryant was a twenty-something guy, friendly looking, with an easy smile, hair only barely long enough to be parted.  A name tag swung from a cord at his neck.

He shook their hands on the way to go around the back of the desk, peering over the receptionist’s shoulder at the screen.

“Milton is currently on the one-hundred-and-sixty-fifth floor.  He’ll be in his office by the time you reach him on the tenth floor.  You can take the stairs.”

The receptionist passed Mr. Bryant a keycard.  Avery turned her Lost Sight on briefly, borrowing from Snowdrop, and saw a piece of paper included in that pass.

“This way,” Mr. Bryant said.  “If you run Paths, a bit of stairs won’t hurt, and our stairs are special, either way.  Faster than the non-consecutive elevator for those without higher access.  You’ve seen our lobby, which leads to many of our ground-floor buildings and staff services buildings.  Some of our staff never leave, and do their shopping, fine dining, casual dining, get their haircuts, visit spas, and go to doctor’s appointments through there.  We have an airport terminal at one end that ties to any of a dozen small and private hangars across Europe and four points across North America; one can go on through and be on a short flight to wherever they wish that has an airport.  Not, I believe, that you have any such need.”

“You’ve studied me?”

“As a guide and facilitator, I and my colleagues in my department keep apprised of all potential guests.”

“If there’s an accommodation an employee needs that isn’t being met, Wonderkand’s staff would take it as a challenge and a point of pride to see it is met with startling quickness, efficiency, and ease.”

They were climbing stairs now.

“I hate to cut in again,” Avery said.

“Please do, if you have any questions.”

“Is this a sales pitch to bring me in?”

“It is many things all at once.  If a tour isn’t also a sales pitch, then that’s a failure on our part.”

“I see.”

“Is there any objection if I continue?”

“No,” Avery said.  “Thank you.”

“On our first floor, we have Procurement.  It’s believed Wonderkand finds and catalogues more Lost items in six hours than all non-Wonderkand practitioners collect and identify in a day.  It’s an entry-level task that remains immensely rewarding, for the skills honed are applicable to all levels of work with the Paths.”

“It honestly sounds pretty dreary,” Sheridan said.

“You would think so, but it has its upsides.  Person A takes it in, identifies, passes it to person B, chosen at random from available employees, who does the same, they pass it to person C.  Then they compare notes, decide if they’re confident on their analysis, work together to work out name, labels, and they go to the blast ranges to demonstrate the item at work.  If it’s a weapon, it can be used on facsimiles of living targets.  It’s honestly great fun.  Before we ascend too far, I’ll point out wing of Procurement.  That’s the corridor leading to the Cluster.”

“The Cluster?” Avery asked.

“Said to be a collection of everything humanity has lost in the course of known history, that didn’t find its way somewhere else.  Perhaps it’s only a small segment, but nobody’s found another and it’s big enough nobody here is complaining.  Mining the Cluster is another job many low-level employees take, but even mid-tier employees and low level managers will sometimes ask if they can mine the Cluster.”

“What does that entail?” Avery’s dad asked.

“Making sure you’re tethered, wading through the junk pile of humanity’s history, sorting through whatever’s in front of your or at your feet.  High quantities of echoes, sentiments, omens, but we have protections for that.  Sometimes you find the dignity lost when Andres Weber Bivins had his pants pulled down in front of his grade, or another lost sock.  Sometimes you find gold, or a life lost in wartime.”

“And you just… take that life?”

“Well, it was already lost, hundreds of years ago.  Refinement is needed, too, of course.  It’s not your life, not until the serial numbers are filed off and connections are made.  Application can be narrow, but even a narrow case of averting death and carrying on is nice to have.  Still, that’s one example out of thousands.  Let’s not get hung up on it.  It’s a bit of a gamble, tying back to the days Path Runners were called Chaos Mages… but the chance for real treasure or power is high enough it’s worth putting in the minutes or hours to try.  Better than a lottery ticket.”

“Huh,” Avery said.

“And of course, same floor, whether you’re talking mining the Cluster there’s refinement, which I talked about, deep processing, purification, disposal, all the side things required for Procurement.  Next floor, that’s Argument.  Making doors, unlocking Paths, breaking in, breaking out, securing Paths against intrusion by others, calling Others for specific tasks.  There are about two thousand open doors to more inoffensive Paths on that floor, almost all of them seeing regular use.  I know you have your own method of traveling, but we don’t do so bad, even if it requires visiting this floor.  On other floors, we have higher-clearance and higher-security doors, but that’s its own discussion.  Many of those require layers of precautions.”

Avery nodded, taking it all in.  She wondered if it was like Declan’s experience, a month ago.  The possibilities.  The danger.

“Third floor, basic employee offices and quarters.  A third of our employees live on site, while two thirds have apartments and homes across Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, France, and Poland, with apartment buildings linked to here.  We brought a Path to earth and dissected it to have a universal language, so there are no translation issues- it’s how I can speak to you in English without ever having learned the tongue.  A reverse Babel, if you will.  We’re in the process of doing similar things to slow and halt aging, maintain health, and other things that may mean we have the best healthcare in existence.  We are one of the very few places you could work without that knowledge in the back of your mind that an hour spent at work is an hour of your life gone and wasted.  I think if you spend any time at all with our employees, I think you can pick up on the sentiment that results from that.”

“I’ve also heard you cull a percentage of your employees?” Avery asked, wary.

“At certain levels.  That’s opt-in.  It’s possible to say no and remain on floors like this.  You’d be asked to run a handful of Paths every quarter, but you’re given ample time to prepare along with access to vast resources, so the risk is relatively low.”

“Do you have numbers on how many opt in?” Avery’s mom asked.  “In some businesses, they’re required to publish numbers about the percentage of employees earning certain amounts, retention numbers, and other details about the business.  I’d be curious how many take the route which means they could be culled.”

“I don’t know those numbers off the top of my head,” he said, smiling.  “I know that sounds bad, but it’s really not my focus or department.”

“Is it none?  All?  Ninety percent?” Avery asked.  “Few?  Many?  Most?”

“Most,” he said.  “But that’s a result of company culture.  Wonderkand’s eventual goal is for Wonderkand to be synonymous with Path practice.  We’re not there yet, but we’re making progress.  For the time being, it’s the most ambitious and eager who find their way to us.  Beginners who felt their families weren’t fulfilling their potential and those who lost the rest of their family or enclave to a bad Path often come here, becoming our base-level employees.  You, Avery, would probably skip that tier entirely.”

“And I or Declan wouldn’t?” Sheridan asked.

“You could start in the types of work I just described.  Which really does have its own advantages.  Sorry to cut that explanation short, but we’re at risk of moving up too far, since we digressed.  Fourth floor, common employee facilities.  Cafeterias, showers, lounge areas, libraries, meeting rooms.  And, just above, fifth floor.  Lost employees.”

Lost sat at desks and cubicles.  Some had been retrofitted or modified to accommodate strange body shapes and sizes.

“The structure of something like Wonderkand can be a boon to Lost who were key parts of a Path that has ceased to be.  With that connection broken, it can be like an open wound.  You could say it’s a coin flip, whether that wound heals, on a day by day basis.  Some latch onto a new Path, some find their ways to earth, and are inadvertently dangerous.  Others come to us.  A Lost from the File Away may have a theme of long painted nails and files along with the focus on paperwork, but when that Path crumbles, they might give up or modify that theme to match Wonderkand’s branding, instead.”

Up to the next floor.

“Sixth.  Intake.  New Lost, just like we talked about.  Analysis, identification, care, direction.  Facilities specific to Lost are on this floor too, when the shared ones on the fourth floor won’t do.”

Avery could only watch, take it in, and think about Kennet found, and the number of facilities she was aware of.  She wondered if they matched up.  Even with the floors being apparently vast, the narrow allotment here felt like it lacked a bit.

“Seventh floor, Disciplines.  Study of Paths practice, sub-disciplines.  Many unique finders are specifically scouted for their individual approaches to the Paths as a whole.  Some are Aware, who found the Paths by accident, others have unique ways of engaging with the Paths in general, visiting them in dreams or bringing fragments to earth.  Here, we try to puzzle it out, devise new practices.  For some, this is an end goal, fascinating unto itself.  More libraries here too, of course.”

Avery wasn’t sure she was a pioneer on that front.  Or a researcher.

Declan seemed interested.

He didn’t get it, she was pretty sure.  They’d talk later, she hoped, and convey that.

“Eighth, strategy one.  Teams work together to break down and analyze options for various Paths.  A dozen teams work here across the course of a day.  Promotion to this team is a great opportunity, and those who meet that opportunity by solving Paths in the time allotted are given great incentives and rapid promotion upward.  If they can’t, the Path is shelved or passed on to another team.  A keen Finder and Path runner like yourself would likely go here right away, Avery.  Run the Paths if you want, direct teams if not, be rewarded for your analysis either way.  Live a life with a seven figure paycheck from a young age.  Sheridan, Declan, it’s not far out of reach for you either.”

“Seems a bit passionless,” Avery said.

“Oh, there’s passion.  People find Wonderkand because they have ambition and they reach this department because they have passion for Finding and the Paths.”

Next floor.

“Last before our stop, Macro Strategy, Management.  Mid-level managers and team directors meet here, discuss broader plans, and analyze the Paths as a broader entity.  Anyone can come here to make a pitch, whether it’s about patterns they’ve observed, interpretations of Hazel’s Hundred Years Lost, insights into navigation, insights into argument, item density across the Paths, changes in Paths as people come and go.  I spent a few years here.  Fascinating stuff.”

They walked up the final part of the flight of stairs, with a view of the lobby far below and a glimpse of each floor they passed.  Every touch of foot to stair felt like it sent a vibration up her leg.  She wasn’t one to get really tired after scaling a few flights of stairs, but the fact she didn’t feel tired at all while her body expected the opposite made her feel a bit buoyant.

“Tenth floor, usually it’s a different department, but floors have shuffled to accommodate.  Right now, it’s Milton’s level.  He’s vice head of Northeastern relations.  Are you familiar with what relations mean in Practitioner parlance?”

“Yeah,” Avery said.

“Very good.  I’ll leave you here.  There are many more floors, but many others are exits onto specific Wonderkand-only Paths and secure areas.”

“Thank you,” Avery said.  “I didn’t mean to offend, if I seemed critical.”

“Not at all,” he said, flashing a smile.  “I’ll be waiting by the door to escort you back down.”

Avery nodded.

Another door to push through.

The lobby had been busy, and then ascending the stairs, it felt like looking past a pane of glass into those tunnels of an ant colony, where countless ants did their work.  Coming from that to the quiet of an office with one person in it was disquieting.

Milton was on the other side of a large desk with a chair set behind it, on the phone.  The walls were red where they weren’t dark wood, with bookshelves taking up a lot of them.  Half the shelves had items on display in them.

He looked small in his chair, which had been raised up so his upper thighs were visible when he was pulled up to the desk.  He sat a bit sideways, corded phone going to his ear.

“What’s relations?” Declan asked.

“Practitioner families have branches or people who have the job of managing alliances and keeping track of enemies,” Avery said, quiet.

And I think they’re deciding which we are here.

He saw them, said something in a German-ish language that wasn’t universally translated, then hung up.

Milton turned to face them.  A picture behind him had his face on it, painted in some old fashioned style.  He had a tank of a desk, heavy dark wood, with a red velvet pad just in front of him, paperwork to one side.  Across the desk, on one of those triangle things that were propped up on desks with names etched into them, was one long one that read:

Milton “My friends call me Milton” Milton Milton, AKA: Milton.

“A timely arrival,” he said.  “Avery Kelly, no longer independent, judging by your entourage.  You stood in the midst of a number of metaphorical explosions and you came out reasonably unscathed.”

“Reasonably, yes,” Avery replied.  “Hi, Milton.  This is my family.  My dad-”

“I know,” he interrupted.  “I would not be very good at my job if I didn’t know the Paths-related practitioners in my assigned region, their families, and where they are situated.  Which, speaking of.  You intentionally performed a founding on your hometown, aiming it at a knot.”

“More or less,” Avery answered.

“Interesting enough to draw the attention of the Page of Suns.  Then you aided the Garricks in securing the Station Promenade.”

“I did.”

“We would have liked that one.”

“I don’t blame you,” Avery replied.

“Not my department, since that was attributed more to the Garricks.  I don’t especially care.  But curiosity prickles at the back of my brain.  What would it take?  To bring you on board?”

“Probably a big change in how Wonderkand operates.”

“Ideological.”

Avery wasn’t entirely sure she knew what that word meant.  “I believe so.”

“I see.  The Page of Suns visited you, you had a conversation.”

“Yes.”

She was keeping to Lucy’s advice, not volunteering too much.  She knew Milton really wanted answers and details though.

So that could only go so far.

She’d bought Miss’s freedom and Milton’s tolerance with the idea that she would provide something in the way of insights.

“I’ve sought him out, on Paths he calls home.  He’s sought me out too.  Most of Wonderkand’s staff.  I think he’s on the fence, and he’s wary.  We’ve talked.  He wants to be gatekeeper, but we’re near the point where he may not be able to say no anymore.  Or where we have access to the constructions by another angle, and through them, the levers and cogs of reality.”

Avery nodded.

He spread his hands.  “Thoughts?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if Wonderkand could.  You have a lot of power, a lot of resources.”

“Does it surprise you he opposes us?”

“Because you think anyone and everyone should?”

“Partially.  There’s a control and ruthlessness here that I’m not especially keen on.”

“That we’re not keen on,” Avery’s dad added.

“On the other side of that ‘partially’, is a part of it to do with deeper answers?  Big questions?” Milton asked.  “The Page?  The constructions?”

“Yeah,” Avery said.

“That answer alone means I’m unlikely to kill you, wipe out your family, or give an indication to a power like Paris that it would be okay to do so.  It’s too valuable to potentially get answers out of you, compare notes.  Don’t worry.  I don’t torture, I don’t mind control or control bodies.”

“I remember,’ Avery said.

“Before they were evicted from the Promenade, employees of Wonderkand saw a glimpse of what lay beyond the gates.  The Construction was part of it.”

Avery nodded.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked.  “What they are?  It wasn’t just the one.”

“I have a strong suspicion.”

“Me too,” he replied.  “To the point of near certainty.  So my question becomes… what are you going to do about it?”

“That depends on you, I guess,” Avery said.  “I’d kind of like to live my life, not worrying about Wonderkand getting access to the levers and cogs of the universe.”

“That’s not the point, is it?” he asked.  “Many practices could, theoretically.”

“True… kind of true,” Avery said.

“Or another practitioner could find their way there in the meantime.  Vetted by the Page of Suns, probably, but potentially not.”

“Another practitioner could… I don’t know, bungle some loose thread of the Seal, and horrify all of practitioner-dom,” Avery said, adding, “hypothetically.”

“All too true,” Milton said.  “The distinction is that the Seal is something established.”

“It doesn’t have to be the Seal.  There was a lot of bad alchemy stuff going on in my region before I was a practitioner.”

“But even that, it’s established.  The Paths resist establishment,” Milton said.  “If too established, they fall to earth, becoming a founded territory like your Kennet found.”

Avery nodded.

“The Paths are special.  Often neglected by authorities that should pay it more mind.  Other practices are codified in texts, and the Paths are codified in riddles.  Answered too much and too often, we lose them.”

“Yeah,” Avery replied.

“Give me a second.  I’ll type up a proposal,” he said.  He opened his laptop.  “Unrelated to what I’m typing, can I ask what your body count is, Sheridan Kelly?”

“That’s a question with multiple answers,” Sheridan said.

Avery glanced over, and saw her dad had put a hand to Sheridan’s shoulder, squeezing.

“I’m a grown man,” Milton “My friends call me Milton” Milton Milton, AKA: Milton said.  “Whatever I look like, I won’t blush or kick up a fuss at a joke.  It’s honestly refreshing.”

“Glad to brighten the day of someone who could obliterate us with an order.”

“Could,” Milton said, as he typed.  “Won’t.  Not today or anytime soon, I think.  I meant your bodycount as a Loser.”

“Depends,” she said.

“Targets of any value.”

“Four.”

“Four,” he said, nodding.  “And a handful more things you’ve used Loser practices on more frivolously.”

“Yeah.”

“And all four have been secured by a follow-up visit to the Paths?”

“The texts said it was important.  Or you get someone half-Lost coming back mad.”

“It is, and you do.  It’s a good start.  We have good faculties and resources for Losers.  Lots of tools available.  You can reach out to me if you’re curious.  Finishing typing… sent.  Give it a moment.”

It really was a moment.  Avery barely had time to exhale fully before someone came in through the door, walking briskly, dropping off paper.

Milton looked it over with a glance, then pushed it across the desk.

Avery walked forward to take it, then brought it back to her family.  She held it so her Mom and Dad could read over one shoulder, Sheridan over the other.

Milton said it out loud, from memory, without glancing at the screen.  “Avery Kelly, this document draws up a truce.  You’d be given a position in management at Wonderkand, with an eye to rapid ascension to senior management.  I’ve read up on your mother.  I know you have it in you.  Your role and assignments would include reform of Wonderkand, any aspects you can come up with.  While you hold that position, we’d swear off anything else to do with Kennet found, your family, the Garricks, the Promenade, and the constructions, without your express approval.”

“There are enough holes in that to fly your entire airport’s worth of planes through,” Avery’s mom said.

“Did Mr. Bryant bring that up again?” Milton asked.  He sat back.  “It’s so tacky. Did he happen to bring up the history of things, going back to Chaos Mages?”

“He brought up Chaos Mages briefly.”

“True intentional Path running started with people thinking the Paths were dreams.  Chaos Mages stumbled through, every Path, item, and Lost was a gamble, thus the name.  They didn’t know anything, could only manage the odds, but no odds were certain.  But the rewards were high.  Then, over time, we figured out systems.  Taking things out of the Paths, finding.  Sending things in, losing – like your Sheridan.  Developing escape ropes, protections, ways of unraveling systems and riddles, navigating… I see Wonderkand as the end result of that.  The opposite of Chaos.  Understanding and bringing order.  Answers to the riddles.”

“Short leap from order to tyranny,” Avery said.

“True.  But tyranny isn’t the only endpoint.  This is our offer, signed off on by upper management.  If you have amendments you want to make, make them.  If you want a lawyer to read it and make suggestions, do it.  You, Avery Kelly, would start out as a manager of a team, learn the ropes, and then ascend essentially as fast as you choose.  If you think Wonderkand is wrong, make it right.  If you think we’re misguided, guide.”

“Why?” Avery’s dad asked.  “This is so extreme.”

“Because they want everything Path related to become Wonderkand eventually,” Avery said.  “And this is what I asked for, basically, as my price.”

“We’d swear off harming you and people you know.  No sabotage, no tricks, no traps.  This isn’t to set you up so we can remove you.  We legitimately want talented practitioners on board, and we’re not above criticism and adjusting in response to criticism.  You can make policy changes, change us as you see fit.  Successful changes will help you get more power to change more things.”

“And what if another practitioner popped up?  You talked about there being someone that isn’t you and isn’t us,” Sheridan said.

“We’d make a similar offer.  I don’t think they’d ask for the same thing as Avery.  Might be money, power, or a specific thing they’re trying to find.  We’d supply that, or get close.  But if it was another Avery, we’d put them on the same team.”

“It’s bizarre,” Avery’s dad said.

Milton shook his head.  “We have two options.  Truce, like this, you get to live your life at your pace, and when you wish to deal with this world you can do so at your own pace, with power and protection, and vast resources.  Or we compete.  Pure risk analysis, this is the way forward.  As head of relations, I’m often the snarling pitbull…”

He said, as a boy between Declan and Kerry in age.

“…But I can do this too.  You want to live your life, Avery, without this hanging over your head?  We want to keep going, without worrying that one of the potential prizes at the end of this road could be snatched from us.  So let’s postpone.  And you can trial and implement whatever changes or fixes you want.”

“Avery,” Avery’s mom said.

“Yeah.”

“Speaking as someone who co-runs the Thunder Bay portion of an international business?  This is a lot to take on.  You’d be quickly overwhelmed.  Even as capable as you are.”

Avery nodded.  “Not the direction I was thinking, but you’re right.”

“What direction were you thinking?” her dad asked.

“That it feels like a Judgeship.  I think I’m starting to realize that, past a certain point, when you get power, the world wants to put you into a certain position.”

“It’s not a bad position,” Milton said.  “Respect, power, money, travel, comfort.  You’d be free of shadows hanging over your head.  You could protect Kennet better with one word as a managing director than you could by sacrificing your life as who you are now.”

“You’d really let me make policy decisions like that?  Willy-nilly?  I could sink the company if I wanted?”

“You wouldn’t want to,” he answered.

“But at the end of the day, it’s still Wonderkand?” she asked.  “The baseline sentiment and the pressure of however many people who’ve come onto Wonderkand would be here?”

“You’ve withstood sentiment and pressure before,” Milton said.

“But yes?” Sheridan asked.  “They’d be here?”

“It stands to reason.”

Avery ran fingers through her hair.  She shook her head.

“Then is it a race in the background?” Milton asked.  “A practitioner and her family trying to unravel the Paths before Wonderkand with all its assets can?  That, in itself, is a thing with pressures, stresses.”

“Which you said I’ve handled before,” Avery said, quiet.

“Then if Wonderkand crosses the Kelly family on the Paths, we may act to dissuade and deter.”

“Truce on the killing part?” Avery asked.  “No throwing someone off the Paths, no traps?  Bind temporarily, at worst, or send someone home?”

“No objection,” Milton said.  “Truce on the killing and horrible fates.  Us promising at least helps deter junior employees from rashly eliminating you or your family members.”

Avery nodded.  “Leave Kennet alone?”

“Leave this headquarters alone?  No opening a door at the bottom of the ocean and flooding our facility out, hm?”

“Seems fair-ish,” she said.

“You’re sure about this course of action?” he asked.  “Take a moment?”

Avery looked down at the paper.  She glanced at her family members, and at Snowdrop.

Snowdrop gave her the ‘ok’ sign.

Snowdrop’s version of the thumbs down.

“Feels bad,” Declan said.  One of the few times he’d spoken.

But it meant a lot that he was on the right page, here, even when they were being offered money and power.  Solidarity with family.

“No go,” Sheridan said.

“We want a world with magic, things to explore and discover,” Avery said.  “Wonderkand runs against that.”

Avery passed the paper back to Milton.

“Mr. Bryant will see you out, then.  Thank you for meeting.  We’ll talk again at some point,” Milton said.

Avery couldn’t decide if that was a threat.

They got out of chairs, and walked to the door.

“Open a file for the Kelly family,” Milton said, to the person who’d brought the papers in.  More of a threat.

The Kelly family.

Eerie, to think that the next time she ran into a random Finder on the Paths, she might not be recognized as Avery Kelly, but as a member of the Kelly family.

Her dad gave her shoulder a rub as they descended the stairs, deep in thought.

So much of what she was doing was in rough line with Clementine’s philosophy of sorting things out.  If you have someone coming over in an hour, how do you tackle cleaning up a place that needs more than an hour’s worth of cleaning?

Biggest pieces first.

Her family was a practitioner family now.

Their relationship with Wonderkand was, big picture, in a better place after this.  It had gone from a hostile unknown to a more understandable if still hostile known.

All steps toward, well, having things ready for someone.

She felt Sheridan bump her arm, and nearly missed a stair.  She gave Sheridan a look.  While she was doing so, Smudge briefly got in her way.  Avery put a hand on his head, pressing down hard, to restore her balance, giving him a warning look.

Snowdrop poked Smudge in his side, and pulled him away from Avery through a combination of distraction and physical force.

“It’s not like it’d hurt you if you fell,” Sheridan murmured.

“We were doing so well,” Avery’s mom murmured back.

We’re doing fine, Avery thought.  This is okay.

“I have so many questions,” Declan said.  “Construct?”

“Answers later,” Avery said.  “I think answers to that question happen under as many layers of augury protection as we can figure out how to set up.”

All steps toward having things ready for someone?

Steps toward having things ready for multiple someones.

This was the real change, the real reform.

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