The rain had continued well into normal working hours, with intermittent drizzle and thunder over the city until ten. Everyone knew they had the rest of the day off and plenty of time to devote to other necessary tasks — like sleeping and remembering to eat.

Magic weather was never really a day off, but it was nice that nobody who had any association with magic could be expected to seek employment or go shopping. Maybe a quick stagger into a bodega to buy an empanada and a soda without speaking coherently or waiting around for your change, but nothing complicated. Altogether it was a bit like Yule for magic-users, but no presents or happiness.

Well, maybe a little, but no obligation.

The Dove Cot ladies had left first. They had the least distance to walk. Mrs. Taube collected her birdcage and declared her intention to go a short while later. After a moment’s hesitation and a glance around the room which did not reveal the blue gentleman she’d given the flowered hat, Kitty went along to make sure she got back to the doss house okay.

Chris emerged from the kitchen when she had gone, poking his head out first like a rodent wary of predators. He muttered an apology at the floor for anyone who might care.

Barnaby pulled back his shoulder and then grabbed his hand. “Not at all! You were very amusing, and you even got our Alice to dust off her accent! I always forget she’s doing a broad imitation of David and me, and of course she lets me. Come back and get her to talk to you any time!”

“I don’t want to bother you…”

“Our Alice loves being bothered! She’ll just never admit it. Don’t forget all your art supplies, Mr. Treves!”

Chris departed with Calliope’s suitcase, and a reluctant promise to come back and see what Milo could do with the headless raccoon.

Barnaby remained frozen and smiling until Calliope closed the door. “Is he quite gone, Miss Otis?” Without waiting for a reply, he removed a pot of bright yellow paint from the box of art supplies, delicately unscrewed the lid, and then hurled it at the wall beside the kitchen doorway as hard as he could. “Damned wallpaper. Defend my artistic statement against him if he should ever happen to return, Miss Otis.”

Barnaby detoured through the kitchen and picked up a random parcel of foil-wrapped leftover to take with him to his attic.

Calliope stepped carefully around the paint puddle and drew two dot eyes and a smile in the centre of Barnaby’s artistic statement, then she picked up the jar and screwed the lid back on what was left.

A few minutes after she gave in to her impulse to add some orange highlights, Tommy and Penny came out of Room 103 and shyly thanked her for use of the double bed. Penny offered to change the sheets for her, or anything else she might need.

Calliope shook her head. “Finding you guys a job is just more work I don’t wanna do. I’ll crash in a cot when I need.” …in the basement, she thought, if possible. She smiled at them. “You guys can hang out and grab some breakfast if you want, maybe something obvious’ll break while you’re eating.”

◈◈◈

Kitty had emptied all the dishes and wrapped everything neatly in foil. Every parcel was labelled in glowing yellow script, and they had been stacked near the kitchen sink like Yule gifts. A few people were eating already, either out of foil or bowls. Nobody was drinking the coffee, which was still mysteriously warm.

Tommy tried to sort through the leftovers. Many of them were labelled ???? or Surprise! Kitty either had a whimsical streak or she’d been confused by a few dishes.

Fred was seated at the table with an apparent slice of cake, which he was peeling like an oversized candy bar in a shiny wrapper.

Penny hesitated for a moment and then sat across from him with a smile. “Fred, I’m sorry, but I’m going to kick myself if I don’t ask. What’s it like?”

“I think it’s chocolate, but everything tastes fizzy,” the purple man said. He offered the cake in her general direction in case she wanted a bite.

“No. No, no, no.” She waved the cake away and leaned forward, “What’s it like being both?”

Sanaam stopped chewing his cinnamon roll and tried to edge closer without making it too obvious. Given the size of him versus the size of the kitchen, this was completely impossible.

“Both?” Fred said, blinking. He winced at her and rubbed his head. “Aw, geez, lady. I can’t remember where I live and you’re asking me about my racial experience?”

Penny beamed at him and folded her hands on the table. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Tommy frowned at her. “Hey, hon, of course he minds!”

“Well, if he doesn’t mind it more than the usual awkward questions,” Sanaam said. “Do you want to know what it’s like being married to a white lady, Fred? Island life? Basic earlobe maintenance?” He tugged on one of the dangling wooden discs. “I’ll trade you if you tell me what it’s like being coloured and black!”

They heard rapid footsteps on carpeting and then an indignant pigtailed head appeared in the kitchen doorway, “Fred isn’t black!”

“Maggie!” Sanaam said. He was willing to go along with the rude questions, but that was over the line!

“Oh.” Fred pointed at her. “Yeah. That. That is a feature, that right there. I don’t get it from coloured folks, but you people are always telling me I’m not black.”

Sanaam looked dismayed. He gazed into the middle distance. “I don’t want to be ‘you people.’” He frowned at his daughter, “Magnificent, apologize to the man.”

Maggie stamped her bare foot. “But he isn’t. People aren’t going to treat him black, they’re going to treat him coloured. It’s obvious!”

“Maggie, we don’t go around telling people they’re not black, no matter how others treat them! Some of us can pass. It’s not what’s on the outside.”

“Well, then what is it?” she said. “On the inside I’m red, we all are.”

“It…” Sanaam dropped his hands to his sides. “It’s an identity. It’s a way of being. It’s real even if you can’t see it. I don’t know.”

“I mean, I get where she’s coming from,” Fred said. “White people don’t really see me. Not how I am. Sometimes I can see them trying to figure out how they see me, which part comes first, like I can’t be two things. They pick one, and it’s usually the coloured part, but that’s not all I am.”

“Oh,” Maggie said. She bowed to him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Halsey. I’m two things too. I hate when people do that.”

Fred peered at her. “Which two things are you?”

“White and black.”

“Is that two things?”

“For Maggie it is,” Sanaam said. “My wife informs me the language is lacking. Are coloured people better about treating you like who you are?”

“I guess?” Fred said. He shrugged. “They’re different.”

“Do they even see it?” Penny said. “Or do they pretend they don’t? I hate that.”

“No, that’s white people,” Fred replied. “I’m trying to think… They don’t not-see it, but they always make sure.” He banged a hand on the table-top and dropped his cake. “It’s like I’m a vegetarian!” He made his voice a bit higher and fussier, “‘Excuse me, are you black? Oh, that’s interesting. Can I get you anything, on account of your blackness? Are these sandwiches okay?’”

“Yes!” Steven screamed.

Tommy dropped a foil-wrapped package on the floor and Penny damn near fell out of her chair.

Steven pointed at Fred with both hands, one of which was bandaged and bloody. “It’s like you’re a hamster and you need a wheel and pellets! What the hell is that? I don’t need anyone to feed me my culture! I eat regular food! You know what I like? I like matzo ball soup! My mother learned it off one of our neighbours and my whole family likes it! Why doesn’t anyone ever offer me some goddamned matzo ball soup? I don’t like phoenix talons, they scare the hell out of me!”

“What are…?” Penny said.

“Chicken feet,” Sanaam said. “They’re not bad.”

“Steve, how’s your hand?” Tommy said.

“I don’t know. Stings, but the drugs haven’t worn off yet.” He sat down at the table. “Hyacinth said I can’t have stitches but I can have a merger if I want one when the weather calms down. I don’t know if it’s ’cos she can’t do mergers yet or I can’t consent to surgery yet. Is there anything to eat?”

“Oatmeal or a package of random,” Tommy said.

“Random, please,” Steven said. “As long as it doesn’t have visible toes.”

“I don’t know how you guys put up with it,” Penny said. “What I have is about all I can handle.”

“Do white people try to touch your hair or is that just coloured folks in shelters?” Fred said.

Sanaam shrugged and shook his entirely bald head.

Penny touched her headscarf. “I have my kilemba. Sometimes kids grab it on the bus…”

“A kilemba!” Sanaam said. “Are you from Zanzamin?”

“I’m from San Rosille,” Penny said, looking wounded.

“Well, I mean, your family… At some point…” Sanaam said. He winced and looked away. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. Of course you are.”

Fred was regarding Maggie’s braids. “What about you?”

“The whole neighbourhood is terrified of me, they’re not gonna touch my hair,” Maggie said. “Sorry, Mr. Halsey. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“I must not live around here, I’d remember being terrified of you,” Fred said. “Or would I?”

They ate random leftovers and occasionally stepped on each other’s cultures. Eventually, Tommy picked up his guitar and put an end to the rude questions.

◈◈◈

Ted and Maria collected their cranky children at about noon, confirmed that Steven would be staying the night no matter how Hyacinth fixed his hand, and then promised to complete his dry cleaning orders for him. They took leftovers with them so they wouldn’t have to cook.

Calliope checked Lucy, did basic baby maintenance, and told Tommy and Penny if they wanted to practice they could, and if they didn’t, they could tag her back in — she’d just be in the basement.

She dragged a cot with her and informed a startled Mordecai that she was “backup,” and he could grab some lunch. “So you’ll be okay for Erik,” she added with a smile. That got him to go.

When he discovered two teenagers playing with a delicate baby in the dining room, he also checked Lucy and did basic baby maintenance, including changing a clean diaper “just in case,” before investigating the kitchen for something that would be good cold.

He had a coffee. He got through half the glass before he noticed there was something wrong with it, and then he finished it because he wasn’t sure. He didn’t mention to anyone that it tasted like pasta sauce — it was a magic storm, maybe somebody made a mistake.

◈◈◈

Ann signalled that she had regained consciousness with a moan. She clapped both hands over her face but didn’t sit up. “Oh, gods, what time is it?”

Cerise tumbled out of the cot and leaned on the bed — a snapping sound burst from some hidden part of its support and she leaned away and folded her arms. “There are no clocks anywhere in this house, and I can only assume time does not exist here, not unlike indoor plumbing, but it’s light outside. If you need an alibi for last night, I’ll swear to the police that we were playing cards the whole time. We can burn the dress and I’m not sure about the pieces of the machine, but Milo can probably make something out of them, like that woman with the leg of lamb.”

“What?” Ann said, blinking.

“It’s a short story. It’s in that magazine with the new hairstyles. I thought you read it. The woman murders her husband with a frozen leg of lamb…”

“No, no, no.” Ann waved both hands and shook her head. “Do you think I’m a murderer, angel?”

“Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but I wouldn’t mind if you were. Whatever you’ve done, I’ll help fix it.”

Ann snickered. She shook her head again. “I’ve already fixed it. He’ll never go to the police.”

“What did you do with the body?” Cerise said.

“I think we have to assume it walked home under its own power, but he may have required some help down from the roof after the beating.” Ann grinned at her. “But he’ll never admit it and even if he does, they’ll never believe a man in a dress bent him over and spanked him. Well, not that it happened and he didn’t pay extra for it at a cabaret.”

“What,” Cerise said.

“Well, he’d already climbed up on the roof to get away from Lucy’s highchair, which was stupid of him. He couldn’t run away. I already had the frying pan. I just sat down on one of the chimneys, put him over my knee and beat the hell out of him. Then I told him if he wanted some more he ought to go to the Leather Dungeon and ask for Milo, I think he’ll put it together. You know the Leather Dungeon, Francesca does their books too, she’s always handing out their cards. They have those little brass studs on them. I think I pulled something.” She rolled back her right shoulder and felt it with her left hand. “Did I remember to bring back the frying pan, angel? I’m a little messed up.”

“You told me to mess you up,” Cerise said. Actually, Ann had pointed at the doctor bag and said “fuck me up, angel.” Cerise had selected three different types of painkiller and some capsules that were the same colour as what the ballet master had given her when she tore a ligament. “I remember Elizabeth washing the pan and putting it away, but maybe we’d better wash it again.”

“Cin will use it eventually, like the leg of lamb. Do you think you can find me a pair of flats? Milo wouldn’t like feeling like this. Were you in here watching over us the whole time?” Ann smiled.

Cerise shrivelled and hugged herself. “I’m in hiding, like an exile. I told all those people my life story. I was trying to make them cry and they didn’t even have the decency to do that!”

Ann put a gentle arm around her and squeezed. “Magic storms don’t count, does that help any?”

“Not really. I didn’t tell them about Pierina or the chewable vitamins, did I?”

“You sort of alluded to Pierina, but she could’ve just been a woman you hated. You’ve never told Milo and me anything about chewable vitamins.”

“It’s not really important,” Cerise muttered. She rubbed the back of her head. “It was just stupid.”

“Oh, we’re all stupid,” Ann said. “Don’t worry. Help me get dressed and I’ll go down with you. We can have breakfast, or whatever it is.”

“Don’t drink the coffee,” Cerise replied. She handed Ann a pair of flats.

◈◈◈

Hyacinth woke up, gasped and sat up, and then hesitantly laid back down. Then she shook her head, sat up again, and stood up. She was still wearing her dress and was pleased to note she hadn’t even taken off her shoes. She combed back her blonde mop with both hands and discovered a sticky substance that she identified as peanut butter. She licked it off her fingers. Then she was all set for Round Two!

That was being too charitable. There had been so many rounds she had lost count. Lacking a towel or a coach in her corner, she had no choice but to spit a little more blood into the bucket and wade back into the ring.

Her coffee mug, which said Not a Morning Person in black printing and held sixteen ounces, was on the dresser with a little white note card under it. With a sense of déjà vu, she checked it for stickers, then slid it to the edge and picked it up to read:

Cin, there was enough coffee left for one pot and this is your share. We hid it so nobody else would drink it. If we missed any of the jelly glasses, don’t be fooled. This is the last real coffee. Drink it before you come down or the rest of us will be jealous!

Ann had signed her name in a heart. Ann always signed her name in a heart. It reminded her of how David used to dot his I’s.

She crumpled the note, threw it on the floor and gulped her mug of lukewarm coffee — it was only half-full, they had measured it.

When she opened her door and looked into the front room, she was amused to find someone had altered her eerily pristine walls with an exuberant splatter of orange and yellow paint. It had a smiley face drawn in it and she suspected a group effort, some combination of Barnaby, Calliope and the children.

Soup and Fred were asleep in the cots, so she refrained from screaming and demanding an update right now.

She crept down the stairs on her cheap shoes, and stopped herself on the way to the kitchen. She sorted through the chairs, cots, boxes and card table, and finally found the cigar box labelled DECOYS. She hit the button and killed all of them, causing multiple thuds on the roof. They’d sweep them up later and start making repairs for the next storm.

Then she checked the kitchen for occupants and demanded her update, without screaming: “What went wrong while I was asleep?”

Cerise turned and revealed a naked Lucy sitting in the sink with a bowl of some soft food, which the baby was either feeding herself with both hands or bathing in. It was yellowish. Hyacinth suspected an instant pudding.

“Ah,” said the pink woman. “Well, Tommy and Penny had enough playing house and they ditched the baby and went home. Annie has done something to her shoulder and although she means well she is not equipped to hold a baby, and she is mildly stoned. When I suggested waking Calliope, she stamped on my foot and scuffed my favourite shoes, so the baby went into the sink instead.

“Mr. Yaojing’s hand started to hurt again, so we confirmed that he would like a merger and he didn’t care about being conscious for it, and then we fed him random things out of your doctor bag until he felt better. He wanted to lie down, but Annie thought he ought to stay in the kitchen so we can make sure he’s still breathing.”

Steven had his head on the table. His hand was next to it, palm upwards with a blue ice bag on top. “Still breathing!” he confirmed for them, without moving. “Woo,” he added.

“Calliope, Seth, and Erik are asleep. Mordecai is trying not to, but I caught him snoring so he’s in and out of it. The D’Ivers went upstairs to bed about an hour ago. Mr. D’Iver paid for breaking my hedge clippers, and I think you should pay him back because this is your shelter and everything is your fault.

“That little blond boy said he’s not leaving until he knows his teacher’s okay and I shooed him away from the basement but I’m not sure where he is. Fred still can’t remember where he lives, but he coughed up this phone number. You can deal with that when you want to hike to someplace civilized.

“I threw food at the man in the attic and whatever that is in Room 101, and on that basis I think it’s safe to say I have usurped all your authority out from under you and I am within my right to rule your kingdom and sentence you, the deposed monarch, to death.”

Hyacinth considered her briefly. “So what’s the holdup?”

“I don’t want your shitty kingdom, take it back so I can go home!”

“I’m really all right, I just need lower flats,” Ann broke in.

“Woo,” Steven said.

“Ba!” Lucy said. She reached for the pink woman with her sticky hands and was ignored.

“Can you dial Fred’s phone number somewhere on your way home?” Hyacinth asked.

Cerise sighed. She tore the top sheet from the kitchen pad and tucked it into the front pocket of her overalls. “I imagine so, but I can’t promise you because I look like a lunatic.”

“Thank you for trying,” Hyacinth said. She looked away. “I’m sorry, you know.”

“I know. What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then it’s your move.” Cerise frowned and paused with her hand on the back door. “Unless I forget how much I hate your crazy house the next storm. Goodbye, Annie, sweetheart. Feel better. I’ll see you at work.” She shut the door behind her. Hyacinth heard a pair of high heels thumping down the stairs.

Hyacinth leaned on the table and regarded Steven and Ann. She made a smile. “I’m just going to check Fred, I’ll be right back and start in on that merger!”

Ann’s hand clamped down on her wrist like an iron manacle. “You’re not going anywhere until we work out what lie we’re going to tell Erik and Seth. And Mordecai,” she added. And she smiled too. “Dear.”

“She said not to tell them it got out of the yard!” Hyacinth said. “We can’t get any more specific until we know what they remember!” On the other hand, telling them the truth — not that she was necessarily going to — would have been easy!

“Then let’s wake them and find out together,” Ann said, still smiling.

“Steven, can you watch Lucy?” Hyacinth said.

“Woo,” Steven said.

Hyacinth sighed. “We’re going to have to wake the General.”

“Then we’ll do that together too,” Ann said.

◈◈◈

Ann nudged Calliope first and informed her that the lying was about to commence. Calliope wiped her drool-covered hair out of her mouth and indicated she was on board with it. Ann helped her sort herself out and offered a cup of tea.

Hyacinth just kicked Mordecai, but gently. She had to do it several times. She did not ask if he was on board with anything or bribe him with tea. “If Erik wants to go back to sleep he can, I just want to make sure he doesn’t think the house is on fire. Come on.”

Mordecai was resistant to being included in more insanity right up until she mentioned the house fire. He sat up and grabbed the edge of her skirt, pulling her down, “Oh, my gods, that really happened? I thought I was remembering a movie!”

“They might not remember and I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell them right away, okay? That is not information they need to have.”

“No,” he said. “No, you’re right. I just… Gods.” He shook his head. “We have to talk about this later but not with them.”

“I’ll make time,” Hyacinth said. “Pray to a god of your choice that somebody else doesn’t decide Erik needs to know.”

He stumbled away and sat down by the shrine as if she’d been serious about it.

Hyacinth firmly cancelled the remark she wanted to make and sat on Erik’s cot. She tried offering him tea first.

“Not thirsty,” Erik muttered.

“As your personal physician, I don’t care. This is what you get for living with a medic. Come on.” She sat him up.

He squinted at her, such as he could. “Is it over?”

She didn’t think it was, but he didn’t need to hear that. “Yeah. What do you remember?”

“Does it matter?” he said.

“Only if you’re upset about it. I have a lot of people to take care of and this is your time. I can’t promise you more right away if you need it later.”

He sighed. “Cerise fixed my nail and I didn’t care it was pink but I care a little now and I wish she’d stop saying I have a weird head.” He sat forward. “Someone broke the window. He was going to hurt us.”

“What is the point of having you?” Mordecai snarled at the shrine. He gave it a light kick and then abandoned it for Erik. “Dear one, it’s okay. Nobody got hurt. We all saw it and we caught it, then Hyacinth put it out.”

Erik didn’t turn to look at him. He was gazing into the distance. “I couldn’t get out of the bedroom. I couldn’t work the door. So I took the hinges off. Then I was in the yard and I don’t know.”

“You weren’t really,” Hyacinth told him. “You hijacked Lucy’s highchair.” Which was true.

“You didn’t get out of the yard,” Ann said firmly. “Magic hit the thing and broke it, and that knocked you both out. I went after the man who hurt us, and I hurt him so he won’t ever come back.”

Hyacinth issued a low grumble. It was close enough and if she corrected it now it would look like she was trying to hurt Erik for no reason. No, no, kid. It was way worse than that and I’m getting a little worried about your tendency to murder. Don’t be evil, okay?

But someone else could tell him. If she didn’t tell him right now when she had control over it, someone else could later and they could twist up what happened however they wanted. If she told him right now, she could twist up what happened however she wanted. She’d make him understand it wasn’t his fault! At least she would try. Would the damn gods even bother?

Could she make him believe it wasn’t his fault even if she told him that flat out? She could say it, but could she make him believe it?

But at least I would try. At least I would try…

“Both?” Erik said painfully. “Did I hurt Seth?”

Damn it, he’s going to think he screwed up even if I don’t tell him!

She shook her head and sighed. “I’m going to check him, but if you didn’t hurt you, I don’t think you hurt him. Are you okay?”

“I kinda feel better,” Erik allowed.

“Maybe he does too. Drink this down and let’s see.”

Erik sat at the edge of the cot with his mug, kicking his feet back and forth. Mordecai dropped down next to him and put an arm around him. “What’s that about the highchair?”

“I broke it,” Erik said. “I’m sorry. I wanted to hurt that guy, but I forgot about the magic strikes. I’m glad Ann got him. Did you kill him, Ann?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Ann said. “No. I humiliated him. He won’t be back.”

“Is Milo mad about the highchair?”

“No, he’s thrilled he gets to build a better one.” He would be, she was only aiming slightly above his emotions to account for the distance.

Seth said, “Huh?” and then, “Oh, gods, what happened?”

“What do you remember?” Ann said.

Seth frowned at her and sat up. “Miss Rose, please don’t make me guess, just tell me what happened!”

“I went after that guy who threw the bottle,” Erik said softly. He looked up. “I was doing that thing your Auntie Diane could do, and I messed us both up. I could feel him. I thought I could get him. Maggie did magic on me and I’m connected to the universe, but I didn’t think about being connected to you. Are you okay?”

“You were doing what?” Mordecai said.

“Oh,” Seth said. “I… I’m actually…” He brushed Hyacinth aside and stood up. He walked a few steps, away from and back to the cot. “I have no idea what you did, but I’m fine. I mean, really.” He laughed and touched a hand to his head. “I’m not used to being fine.” He stepped forward and leaned down, “But are you okay? Are you sick instead?”

“You were doing what?” Mordecai said.

Erik smiled at him and set down his mug. “I’m okay. I want breakfast.”

“Will somebody please tell me what Erik was doing!” Mordecai shrieked.

(This.) Erik said.

Then Mordecai just screamed.

But that wasn’t all he did. It wasn’t like when Seth pushed him away. There wasn’t any push at all. It was like a pretty girl walked by and he stood up straight and pulled the wrinkles out of his shirt. Erik thought of an office worker with a messy desk who saw the boss coming and swept everything into a neat pile, so you could only read the stuff on top and not see the dirty magazines or the doodles of kittens.

Mordecai thought: Oh, shit. And Erik read it as if he’d written it in calligraphy on the topmost sheet of paper. Then he scratched out the rude word and it just said: Oh, s—t.

Then it faded, and Erik was just looking at his upset uncle.

“It’s harder with no storm,” Erik muttered. “It’s like when I can’t find a word. I feel smaller.” He looked at Seth. “Do you… Do you feel it at all?”

Seth shook his head. “I’m awful at it. I can barely move in my own head and I can’t get out of it. Rich white ladies who do yoga for fun can manage that much, they just don’t know what it is. She wanted to teach me — not yoga. I can’t do that either. But I didn’t want to do what she did. It hurts people. I didn’t want to hurt people.”

“Is everyone coloured in this basement a tentacle monster except me?” Mordecai demanded.

Erik looked wounded. “A what?”

“Diane used to say it that way,” Seth said. “It’s not to be mean. She thought it was funny.”

“Hey, are you guys gonna tell us what’s going on or do we have to guess?” Calliope said.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said. He made a weak smile. “Can we have this conversation in the kitchen? I want breakfast too.”

◈◈◈

Maria had folded Seth and Erik’s clothing into neat little bundles and left each on a chair near the basement doorway. Calliope went up to collect them, and paused at the top of the stairs, because a tallish yellow man in a straw hat and vest had picked Fred up off the floor and was hugging him. She smiled at them. “Is he yours?”

“He is, I swear!” said the yellow man.

The General was holding Lucy — who seemed to be much tidier than Calliope recalled leaving her, with a bow in her fuzzy hair — and standing between them and the front door. “I would like you to ask Hyacinth her medical opinion on this situation, because this man called Mr. Halsey the wrong name and also claims to be his identical twin…”

“I know it’s Halsey!” said the yellow man. “It’s a joke! We just…”

“I told you it was Halsey when you said ‘Hayes,’” said the General. “An error on my part which is attributable to lack of sleep. I am also not qualified to assess whether you are experiencing a similar impairment or you are some kind of kidnapper. Either way, I am reluctant to release Mr. Halsey into your custody. Put him down.”

“Identical,” Calliope said. Her family had one set of those and one set of the other kind. She knew the identical kind tended to diverge a little, but the yellow guy was half a foot taller than the purple one, with straight hair showing around the hat and sharp features. She didn’t like to be racist, but she was having a hard time picturing how you got a white guy and a black guy out of one egg.

“He’s wearing his hat, I don’t have my hat,” Fred said, beaming. “I lost my shoe someplace too, Dee.”

The yellow man removed the hat and bowed. “They kidnapped me and adopted me, ma’am. They’re savages, it’s what they do… Oh, gods, I’m not helping my case any, am I?”

“He’s two years older than me. It was hell on Mom,” Fred said.

The yellow man spoke through clenched teeth, “Bro, these people have no sense of humour, cut it out.”

Calliope picked up the clothes and called into the basement, “Hey, Cin? Glorie wants to know if you think this guy’s okay to take Fred home. They seem like they like each other but he’s a little weird. I mean, Fred is too, but he got hit with magic and we’re not sure about his twin here.”

“Twins?” said Hyacinth. She clomped up the stairs.

The tall yellow man bowed to the ragged-looking blonde woman. “Good afternoon. I’m very sorry. We have senses of humour. Some woman called our parents and said Hayes was here, but they’re not in the city so they called me. I was going out of my mind.”

He clapped a hand over his mouth, “Oh, shit, I said ‘Hayes’ again. I know it’s Halsey!”

He bowed again, desperately, even lower, “My name is Georges Bellamy, but the Halseys adopted me during the siege and we’re all in Coyote Clan.” He pronounced it ki-yote, with a nasal twang. “I didn’t have anyone else and they’re from the ILV, so that’s their culture, I’m not making it up. Coyote Clan is in their phone books, they’ve got ‘em at the library! We thought if we were going to be brothers, why not be identical twins? That’s all it is. I’m not really crazy. Please let me have my brother.”

“I can confirm that citizenship in the ILV operates on a clan basis, but this is not hard to find out,” the General said.

“This would all be a lot easier if I had my hat, Dee,” Fred said. “Gimme your hat.” He took it and put it on. “Now imagine he has one. Black people wear hats.”

Hyacinth pointed, “Why does he think your name is Dee?”

“It’s ’cos he likes saffron,” Fred said, straight-faced. “Crazy about it.”

“People call me Donovan,” said the yellow man. He attempted a smile. “You may notice I have an easygoing personality. Ha, ha?”

Hyacinth stared at them with an open mouth which slowly closed into an acid frown. “Purple Hayes,” she said.

Fred struck a pose, as if playing guitar.

“Ha, ha?” said Donovan.

Hyacinth groaned and clutched both hands over her face. “His story checks out and they both have the same sense of humour. You are obviously identical twins. I was just having some difficulty with the hat.

“Monsieur Donovan,” she bowed too, “if your brother continues to be weirder than usual for more than a few days, bring him back here and let me check him for damage. He got hit with raw magic, so please try to be responsible for him and use your judgment about what he’s able to do safely. If you have any judgment. No fire or sharp objects. Get your horrible wordplay out of my house.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Donovan said. “From the whole family.”

“Are they gonna let me on the bus with one shoe?” Hayes said.

“The bus?” Donovan stared at him. “Man, you really are weird. I brought your rig, but maybe we better ride double.”

Hayes grinned and pointed with both hands. “Riiight!”

Hyacinth saw them pause on the porch and pick something up, but she couldn’t tell what it was through the window and frankly she didn’t care. They were off to endanger themselves and Fred was no longer her responsibility. “General D’Iver, give me the baby and get some sleep,” she said. “I’ll take it from here.”

“You know where I am if you wish to risk your life waking me up again,” the General said. She bowed and went up the stairs.

Hyacinth approached the kitchen with the baby in tow. “I’ll just fix Steven’s hand and put him to bed, and we can have our conversation about tentacle monsters with no awkward interference…”

◈◈◈

“Oh, maybe we won’t do that,” she said.

Soup was sitting at the kitchen table across from Steven, who still had his head down and an ice bag on his hand. The blond boy was drinking tea out of a coffee mug, and wearing his driving cap and bow tie. Maria had rendered his clothing spotless and he felt like some kinda goddamn gentleman. He couldn’t stop straightening his tie.

“Don’t you have places to be, kid? The food’s all wrapped up, we won’t miss any of it.” She put the baby in the sink.

“Ma!” Lucy complained.

“Ma will be here in a minute, play with this spoon.”

Lucy began to bang on the countertop, but it was a wooden spoon and a wooden counter, so not too loud.

“I’m not leaving without Seth,” Soup said. “I brought him to this party, we’re going home together. That’s just polite. Is he okay?”

“He’s so okay it’s making him suspicious and he’s got a few holes in his memory right around the attempted murder, which I don’t think you should fill in,” Hyacinth said. “I’m still not sure if I want to fill them in, but it’s not your decision. I’m okay disobeying the orders of a god, you don’t need these complications in your life.”

“Tommy already told me, I’m not going to mess with it, I just want you to give him back.”

Hyacinth sighed. “Soup, he’s got some personal stuff to do. If you want…”

“I’m sorry, more personal than me dragging him out of the gutter while he throws up and calls me the wrong name and begs me for drugs?”

The blonde woman paused while sorting through her doctor bag. “I’m getting off the subject here, but have you considered a career in bootleg medicine? You’ve got the hair for it.” She touched her ragged lack-of-hairstyle and pointed at his, which looked like it’d been done with a pocket knife.

“There money in it?” he said.

“Not really, but you’ll never go hungry, and chicks dig it. Steven, people I trust told me you wanted a merger, but if you could nod your consent before I alter your body forever and give you a miserable fever, that would really help me out.”

“I’ll think about it,” Soup said gravely. He pulled his hat over his eyes before she could start with the bright light.

She didn’t know where her goggles were, so she just squinted like an irresponsible person. “Give me a second here, and I’ll give you a lesson in getting semi-conscious people to walk, which it seems you could use.”

Before they even negotiated Steven out of the kitchen, someone tapped on the back door and peeked in. Hyacinth saw dark hair and a face she suspected she ought to recognize but didn’t.

“Excuse me,” he said. “The ladies made you a lasagna. They thought you’d be too tired to cook dinner. They said to just leave it if you didn’t answer.”

Adrian regarded the woman and the boy, who were in the middle of dragging an apparent dead body with a bloody hand. “Should I just leave it? I-I think I’ll just leave it. Okay. Yeah. Thanks for lunch yesterday. See you around. Bye-bye. Bye.” He set the foil-covered dish on the counter next to the baby in the sink and sidled out, closing the door silently.

“You see what I mean about not going hungry?” Hyacinth said with a smile.

“Teach me your secrets and share your lasagna,” Soup said.

“Will do.”

◈◈◈

Seth came up from the basement while they were arranging Steven in a cot. He was dressed and holding an empty mug, and he apologized for being such a bother right away. Soup abandoned his medic lessons and his future free lasagna to hug him.

“Are you gonna be all right?” the boy asked, muffled.

“I’m all right already,” Seth said. He snickered weakly. “I think that’s a song.”

“It’s new,” Mordecai disdained.

“Miss Hyacinth promised me dinner, but I can wrap it up and blow if there’s something you don’t want me here for,” Soup said.

Seth shook his head. “It’s all right, but you have to promise you won’t think less of me for being a monster.” He smiled. “I’m not a very good one, you see.”

◈◈◈

They distributed the lasagna first. Hyacinth fed Barnaby and Room 101 but avoided Room 202 — the General and her family could eat when they woke up on their own. While they were doing that, Calliope fed Lucy and put her to bed in Room 103, with the door open so she’d hear any crying.

“Is everyone ready for story time?” Mordecai inquired of the kitchen.

“Please,” said Hyacinth, sitting with her own plate.

Mordecai stood up and abandoned his, which he’d already finished. “Okay, so what you all need to understand here is that Marsellia’s first coloured Prime Minister was an eldritch abomination — which I mean in the nicest way! — and nobody authoritative will ever believe you if you tell them, so from a historical perspective, what we’re going to tell you is just for funsies, and not meant to slander or diminish her legacy in any way.”

“That’s how she talked about it herself,” Seth said, mainly to Erik. “Abomination. Monster. Freak. It was fun for her.” He laughed. “She said she liked ‘monster’ best because it made her sound like a licensed character on a children’s program. ‘Here comes the Government Monster to teach you about judicial overreach!’”

“She really felt that way too sometimes,” Mordecai said. “Or maybe all the time, and that’s why she wanted to make those words funny.”

“Really?” Seth said.

Mordecai shook his head. “There are some things you just don’t tell a person when you’ve changed their diapers, no matter how old they look on the outside. Not out of disrespect, it just hurts too much.”

Seth nodded, and Mordecai noticed he glanced at both children at the table while he did so.

“Erik, what you did in the basement just now was like you tugged on my shirttail to get my attention,” Mordecai said. “Diane could yank you out of your clothes if she wanted, and then put you on like a suit. Like a god. At your level, these abilities are like a rumour, we’ve all heard about somebody or suspected. The things she could do are unheard of, that’s why nobody would believe you. I didn’t believe her, I thought she was a nut, until she showed me.”

“Bianca, that woman with the fruit cage, she said her husband could do it,” Hyacinth put in. “He was just shit at it. They had a mind-reading act with the circus, but she told me it was mostly cold-reading anyway, because he couldn’t always do it when he wanted to. When he screwed up, she’d throw a knife to distract everyone.”

Erik breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad he wasn’t the only stupid person.

“My grandfather knew how to do it,” Seth said. “Our family knew how to do it, but the rest of them are back in Gundaland somewhere. He was the one who taught her, and he started when she was a baby. It was like he had to. I think he was a little afraid she would hurt someone. She was asking for her bottle before she could talk. She always thought everyone coloured could learn how to do it, maybe everyone period because of the yoga ladies. It’s just hardly anyone knows what they’re learning or has a good teacher. She knew, and she had a teacher and a head start.”

“I don’t think yoga hooks you up to the universe,” Erik said. “Not like we are. Maggie does lots of magic and she’s super smart and it’s like it doesn’t even know she’s there. We saw it. She can walk through it like a ghost, it doesn’t even move.”

“But she can still use it,” Seth said. “And Diane would be able to see what she’s thinking and where she is, just not go inside of her. I don’t even know if she couldn’t, maybe she just didn’t know how.”

“Maybe it’s like negative space,” Calliope said. “You can’t make any sense out of the lines without the spaces in between.”

“I don’t know,” Seth said. He looked down at his empty plate on the table. “She knew more about it than maybe anyone in a thousand years, maybe ten thousand, and it’s gone now. I didn’t want to learn it. She taught Sarah, my sister, but after I got traumatized my dad wouldn’t let her start until Sarah turned twelve and decided she wanted to learn. Diane thought that was holding her back, but Dad thought it was waiting until she knew what she was getting into. Anyway, Sarah was never as good at it, but nobody was as good as Diane.”

“She hid it,” Mordecai said. “Obviously it would’ve killed her career in politics if everyone knew she could read minds and make people puppets. But when the siege started, she stayed in San Rosille and volunteered it.”

“You guys were like our king and queen,” Seth said. “Once you teamed up at the wall. She knew everything and you knew what to do with it.”

“She wouldn’t have needed me to tell her if she’d grown up without having everything handed to her,” Mordecai said. “And if she’d been about fifteen-percent more evil, I suppose. But she needed someone to lean on, because we damn near worked her to death. I understand why neither of you ever mentioned you could do it, you had enough going on.”

“I really can’t,” Seth said. “The most I’ve ever managed is when I blocked Erik, and that was a storm.” He winced. “And I almost knocked him down the stairs, because he didn’t expect me to do it. I didn’t expect me to do it. I’m glad I don’t know how. I wouldn’t be a tentacle monster, I’d be a great big clumsy bull in a dish shop.”

“Is that what I am?” Erik said softly.

“No, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s not on purpose, sweetheart,” Ann said. “Milo and I know it’s not. What happened when you tried to talk to him was an accident, and he helped mess it up.”

“What?” said Mordecai.

“Oh. He was trying to talk to Milo but it was almost as if he said too much at once and then neither of them knew what to do with it.”

Calliope nudged her, “You guys really need to start including me when something happens that hurts you, sis.”

“I’m sorry, sis. It was just so embarrassing for both of them…”

Mordecai nodded. “Oh. Yeah. Diane did that to me a couple of times…”

“Really?” Seth said. “Gods, that actually makes me feel better about it.”

“…and it was definitely not on purpose. She was just too upset. It was like she was sick and she threw up on me.”

“I mean, I don’t think bulls in dish shops are doing it on purpose either,” Soup put in. “So you can read minds,” he said to Erik.

Erik shrugged. “Not on purpose. And they tell me stuff too.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell the difference.”

“Barnaby says when something works randomly that really means Cousin Violet is in charge of it,” Hyacinth said.

Erik winced at her. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Erik, I’m just going to apologize right now for everything you’ve ever seen out of me,” Mordecai said. “And everything you will see. And that time in the taxi when you were trying to keep me from walking into traffic and I thought you weren’t real.”

“What?” said Hyacinth.

“Oh. After that gang broke my arm for me. He was trying to make me stop beating myself up.”

Erik managed a small smile. “I wasn’t sure you were real either.” He frowned. “Can you guys teach me how to do it right?”

“All I know is what Diane tried to teach me about stopping her from getting in,” Seth said. “I can’t even do it. Just that one time,” he allowed.

“I never even managed it once and she tried like hell to teach me,” Mordecai said. “She didn’t want to be able to push me over any time she wanted, but I couldn’t even feel when she was doing it. It was like I stopped paying attention and spaced out for a couple seconds. You have no idea how paranoid that makes a person,” he muttered.

“She used to yank you out of your clothes and put you on like you said?” Erik asked, blinking. “Why?”

“Honest-to-gods? Because it pissed me off!” he snapped. “She had reasons to do it to other people, distant people, and animals. She got us intel that way. But me? When, like, ninety-eight-percent of the time we were in the same bunker? She’d put me on because she didn’t want to get up and go to the kitchen herself. It was to annoy me.

“She used to hide things from me. Not things.” He scowled, disgusted. “Information in my own brain which I was using. She said she was training me how to beat her so she couldn’t control me, but we both damn well knew that was never going to happen. She made me forget the number four! Do you know how humiliating it is to be trying to have a serious military discussion with people and realize you’ve just compared something to the five legs of a cat and cats don’t have five legs?”

“Honestly, that five-legged cat manoeuvre was brilliant,” Seth said. “Even Taggart thought so.”

“Not my point, Sprite!”

Seth quieted and looked away.

After a moment, Mordecai did too. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I got lost for a second.”

Seth nodded.

“You were madly in love with this person, weren’t you?” Hyacinth said.

“What?” said Mordecai.

Seth put a hand to his head and nodded again, but a bit more subtly.

“No,” Mordecai replied. “I thought I was, but love has to go both ways. I was just a game to her, and I didn’t realize it until she didn’t come to help me and Alba. She didn’t even say she was sorry, or goodbye. She could talk to me anywhere in the city and I know she could’ve seen us if she wanted to. I upped the difficulty too much and she quit.”

Erik sat up and looked at Seth, “I thought…”

He wasn’t sure how he knew it. Maybe it was the radio, the storm, maybe the gods, or maybe he just knew it because Seth knew it. He thought Diane had been there watching them even though it hurt, but she couldn’t help them, and she didn’t look away until the very end when she just couldn’t stand it anymore. That’s why Seth and everyone had been so sure they were dead.

Seth glanced sideways at him and said, (don’t.) very faint, not at all like when they’d been talking during the storm. It was a ghost word with more ghosts dancing around it like a dark ride at Papillon Island. Projections mirrored with glass, so you could see through them.

Uncle Mordecai playing violin in a damp underground dining room with long metal tables and Diane clapping her hands and then hugging him.

Both of them cooking in a stark little kitchen with steel counters, arguing about the best substitutions.

Diane reaching into a cloud of green gas where she could see Mordecai lying unconscious and making him get up and walk out of it to where they could help him, and then fainting right after because she’d been holding her breath the whole time.

Mordecai giving her a hard slap across the face after she snarled and bit him and explaining, very patiently under the circumstances, that the ceiling was collapsing and she needed to get back in her own body and use it to run because she was heavy, damn it.

Then an argument, and he knew it was Seth, but he didn’t see Seth because this was Seth’s memory. Just another ghost shaped like a blue woman in a blue coat, and two blue hands gesturing at her as if they wanted to strangle her.

Why don’t you make me go? he said. I know you can walk me out of here and through the bullets and gas any time you want and it’s no risk to you, so why don’t you just make me go if you’re so broken up about it? Do you think I care if I die?

She’d been crying and she said, I know you don’t want to go. He grabbed her arm, grabbed it hard so it hurt, Don’t put this on me, this is not my fault, everything is not my fault! It doesn’t matter what I want! Not to you! She said, I don’t want you to die, Sprite. I love you. Then they were both crying and neither one of them knew what to do.

Then a shaking blue hand pulling a folded newspaper out of the trash because there was a huge headline on it, it almost took up all the space above the fold: SURRENDER! Just below it, in smaller bold printing, was a related article: ASSASSINATION?

He read the part about the surrender first. He didn’t even see the part about the assassination until he got to the bit about the dissident movement ending when the Prime Minister’s home in South Hestia burned down, and then he noticed that bold word with cold fear and read about how his whole family was dead. And there was such pain, because he’d been loving them and wanting them to be okay right up until he saw that and found out they weren’t okay and he’d never see them again.

And now an afterimage, another ghost but a living one, Seth sitting at the kitchen table and knowing that Mordecai found out about it the same way, in the paper under that bold word, and knowing he didn’t have the same pain, because he’d already lost Diane years ago, with Alba in that damned hotel. What would he feel if Erik told him she’d loved him the whole time?

So, (don’t.) Erik. Please.

Erik thought about whatever that was in Seth’s head, and in his own head. A tentacle monster, which he pictured like a cartoon octopus. It wasn’t small or weak. You couldn’t tell how big it was because Seth had crammed the poor thing into a tiny box and he was sitting on the lid. He’d just let a piece of it out because this was important, but it had to go right back in. He was scared of it so he kept it tied up. No wonder it couldn’t move.

(Straitjacket,) Erik thought. Then he covered his mouth with both hands because he didn’t mean to say it.

Seth winced. Erik saw him sitting on the floor in a jury-rigged padded room where they’d hard-stuck a bunch of mattresses to the walls, because they realized they needed one like that after the siege started. It said OS-4314-12 on the door and it locked with a key. It used to be for medical supplies. His whole arm hurt and he couldn’t even cry because he was just, so, fucking, ashamed of himself. Then the key made a scraping sound in the lock and the door opened and there was a coldness behind it that he was afraid of…

Seth pitched forward and banged his head on the table, making the plates and glasses rattle. “Sewing needles, knitting needles, sewing needles…” Soup grabbed his arm and Seth brushed him away. “No. No. I just threw up on Erik. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do that. I’m so sorry.”

“What were you trying to say?” Ann said.

Seth shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t control it and I started to show him something he didn’t need to see. I’m sorry, Erik. I didn’t mean to know those things about you, and I don’t even know what I told you about me. I’m going to hurt people no matter how hard I try. You’re right about it being like matches and gasoline.”

“Oooh,” Erik said. He shifted uncomfortably and folded his hands. “I didn’t know I was thinking about that, but it makes sense. Did you get other stuff out of me?”

“I think I did, but it stops right here and I’m not going to talk about it,” Seth said. “I’ve heard about performers who can throw up whatever they want on cue, but neither of us knows how. Diane was some kind of virtuoso. It was my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Can you read my mind like that?” Soup said.

Seth shook his head.

“Or on random?”

“No. No. I think it’s only like that because he can do it too, but we shouldn’t.”

“I don’t suppose you’re any good at betting on horse races?”

Seth smiled at him. “No! But I’m not bad at Three Card Monte.”

Soup cringed and put up both hands, “Oh, gods, Seth, you really don’t want to do that. If you walk away a winner the shills they’ve got in the crowd follow you and beat the crap out of you.”

“I know, dear. I found that out the hard way after the siege. It’s all right.”

Erik exchanged a glance with Soup. “It’s kinda not,” the green boy said. “But if you can’t teach me how to use it, can you teach me how to box it up like you have it? I don’t like hurting people on accident either. I don’t want it to get out unless I say.”

“Boxed up,” Seth said, frowning. “I saw that. That’s what you meant. I’m squishing it. Is that really how… Can you see it in me?”

“Maybe if Maggie did ‘show me’ on you we could,” Erik said. “I saw the tentacles when she did it to me, but it looked like a lot of strings, or wires. That’s just how the magic looks, though. I think it’s like a code. It’s not wires or tentacles, either, it’s connections. I’ve got about a million of ‘em but I can’t feel them. I think if I tried to use them all at once I’d throw up for real, but they’re really there.”

“Twenty is as many as Diane ever did at once, wasn’t it?” Mordecai asked Seth. “When we ran out of bullets?”

“Nineteen,” Seth said. “Everyone coloured she could find on their side, some horses and a pigeon. She tried to do one more bird and she fainted and lost all of them. Then Alba had to go out and fight.”

“Scared the hell out of me,” Mordecai muttered. “Every time.”

“I can’t even do one,” Seth said. “Maybe half of one.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Erik. I have no sense of it. I guess if that’s how I am, you learn it by being scared of hurting people. If you are, then you’ll be careful and feel bad when you mess up and learn it that way.”

Hyacinth spoke into her palm, “If.”

Ann beamed at her like a policeman’s flashlight. Oi! What’s all this then? “That’s a remarkable imitation of Barnaby’s strange portents, Hyacinth. Why don’t you see if you can find us something for dessert instead of giving people anxiety?”

“I really shouldn’t,” Seth said. He leaned back his chair and looked out the kitchen window. “Oh, and it’s dark outside.” He turned to Hyacinth with a wry smile. “I’m enjoying feeling okay and I wouldn’t like you to hit me over the head with that frying pan, so what if I spend the night voluntarily?”

Ann glanced at the frying pan and then back at Seth suspiciously. No. It’s just because it’s there on the counter…

Hyacinth stood up and said, “Yes!” With a vague hint of menace, she informed him, “Eight days is the record.”

“And you had to lock me in your basement to get anywhere near it. Please don’t do that again. Soup, come on, you ought to stay too. There are plenty of cots.”

…And Erik knew that was the reason Seth had agreed to stay in the first place, and that Soup was going to stay too because he wanted Seth to stay, but now he wasn’t sure how he knew. It annoyed him. He got up from the table to put his plate in the wash bucket.

“I wasn’t going to leave without dessert anyway,” Soup said.

“Is the sex any better?” Calliope said, and Seth fell out of his chair.

“Geez, lady!” Soup said, and Hyacinth cackled. Ann rubbed her temple with a hand and made a low exclamation of disgust.

Mordecai adopted a contemplative expression. “Ask me again sometime when I’m high, Calliope. Not at the kitchen table.”

“Right,” she said. “Sorry.”

Seth picked himself up and removed his plate from the table, which he also put in the wash bucket. “I’m glad Maggie wasn’t here, but I suppose I’ll have to tell her most of it,” he glanced back at Calliope. “I don’t know about the others. Soup, do you think the others will mind?”

“Nah,” Soup said. “They wouldn’t mind if you had two heads. You’re like a licensed character.”

“‘Here comes the Basic Math and Literacy Monster,’” Erik said with a grin.

“I hope she’s all right,” Seth said.

◈◈◈

Sanaam saw a little sliver of light through the open door, and a greyish shadow with pigtails. He sat up. “Mag-Pirate?”

“Shhh,” she said. “Seth’s downstairs.”

“And do we not want him to see us…” He made the silliest guess he could think of, “…in our jimmie-jammies?”

She sighed and slumped. “No.”

He got out of bed, quietly, and pulled her into a hug. “Want to talk about it?”

“I know stuff about him he doesn’t know I know,” she said against his shirt. “And he wouldn’t want me to know. I can’t act like I don’t know it. He’s going to think he hurt me somehow and I can’t tell him what happened or I’ll hurt him. What am I supposed to do?”

“Hide,” Sanaam agreed. He pulled her behind him. “He’ll leave eventually, won’t he?”

“It sounds like he’s going to sleep over,” Maggie said miserably.

“Ah. Okay, so we can’t hide the whole time or we’ll have the same problem.” He nodded. “What if I go with you, as a distraction? I can be very distracting, Mag-Pirate.”

“It might help for right now,” she said. She sighed again. “Dad, you know how when the gangsters knock over a bank they leave town for a while and ‘cool off’? Magic season in San Rosille is too hot for me. Can I go back on the boat with you this time? No cannibals?”

“Eeee!” He hugged her again, even tighter. “I don’t care if there are, I’ll feed them someone I don’t like. Are you sure? You’re not obligated. You can change your mind right up until we’re pulling out of the harbour, okay?”

She smiled at him. “Yeah, I know. But I’m pretty sure.”

“Want to try to get your mother to come?”

She shook her head. “She really hates it. And I kinda feel better with her here. She takes care of things.”

“You are not wrong,” said a low voice from the bed, which made both of them jump. Maggie followed it up with a snicker. She should’ve known.

“Now will you both please gather your courage and go downstairs so I can go back to sleep?” said the General.

◈◈◈

Maggie waved shyly and said, “Hi, you guys. I’m okay. I’m just tired.”

“Lasagna! Yay!” Sanaam cried. “Mag-Pirate, let’s…”

Steven woke up with a gasp and then screamed when he banged his hand on the edge of the cot.

“Sanaam,” said Hyacinth, “sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without you, but you’re making me want to find out!” She helped the pink gentleman sit up and removed his ice bag for refilling.

“I’m gonna go with him this time,” Maggie said. “I’m sorry, you guys. Dad misses me and I miss toilets that flush, you know? I’ll try to keep learning how to teach, Seth.”

Seth and Erik both nodded, maybe with more understanding than they wished to express. Soup just shrugged, “More food around here for me.”

“There are a few things I ought to tell you, but it’s not about teaching and I think it can wait until you get back,” Seth said with a smile. “You deserve a vacation.”

“What are we gonna do about your birthday?” Erik said.

“We’re not leaving till Frig’s Day,” Maggie said. “And only if there’s not a storm. We can have cake tomorrow, then you give me my presents when I get back and we have cake again.”

Erik grinned. “And another on the boat. Maximum cake.”

She laughed. “Yeah.”

“Ah,” Soup said, nodding. “In the interest of maximum cake, about when are you getting back, Mags? I’ll pencil you into my schedule.”

◈◈◈

After everyone was asleep — reasonably, Steven was uncomfortable and kept muttering — Hyacinth met Mordecai in the kitchen to talk. He was sitting at the table with a mug of tea, and she wandered over to the cabinets.

“So you want to have a conversation about the escalating anti-magical sentiment in this city and how we’re going to adjust our behaviour to keep safe,” she said, without turning.

“I think…”

“Surprise, asshole!” she cried. She slammed a bottle of generic brown liquor and two jelly-glasses down in the centre of the table. He flung himself backwards and spilled his tea down his shirtsleeve.

“Damn it, Hyacinth!”

“There’s not a damn thing we can do about that and it’s pointless so we’re going to talk about what really happened during the magic storm!” she went on. She opened the bottle and poured herself a glass. “I’m not supposed to tell Seth and Erik, but Auntie Enora never said anything about you, so this is a compromise! Just take off the shirt, I know what you look like, I gave you that scar.”

“Auntie Enora?” he said. He made no move to take off the shirt. He wasn’t even sure he was still breathing.

“I’ll get to it. You may drink as needed.” She took a large swallow herself before she began.

He didn’t even do her the courtesy of drinking when she got to it. He spent the whole time just staring at her, and only stopped her once to ask if he really needed to know about the ballerinas. “You should be grateful I grew as a person, shut up,” she replied.

When she was through, he said very softly, “He told Ann and Milo what he almost did to those men and how upset he was about it, and he hid it from me.”

“Everyone already knows you’re codependent, what do you want to do about the murdering?” Hyacinth said. “He’s getting better at it. He’s convincing other people it’s a good idea.”

“Well, then apparently he takes after me!” said Mordecai. He sat back and shook his head. “It’s not like he’s a bad person, he just has more power than sense. When normal eight-year-olds lose control, nobody dies. I wish I’d asked Diane about it, she could probably kill people when she was eight too. She got into politics and she only started killing after the war parked on her doorstep. It wasn’t for no reason. It isn’t with him either.”

He threw a gesture at the kitchen window. “It’s the escalating anti-magical sentiment in this city, which you don’t want to talk about.”

“Can’t all of you kill someone at eight?” Hyacinth said. “Or around there? Couldn’t you call a god and order it done?”

“There are some stories we tell about that to scare the children, but I’ve never told him because I don’t like the lessons they teach about not getting involved,” he muttered, looking away.

“Then I urge you to consider scaring him, because he’s a little too involved right now.”

“I will, but I’m hoping to get it across without the implication he might get us all genocided, okay?”

Hyacinth stared at him for a moment. “What kind of stories are these?”

“They’re pretty bad, Hyacinth, and they’re supposed to be true,” he said. “But there’s a fine line between a history lesson and child abuse and I’d like to stay on one side of it.”

She blew out a breath and put her head in her hands. “We’re not going to solve this tonight, are we?”

“Did you honestly think we were?”

“I don’t know.” She waved a hand at him. “You seem borderline smart.”

“Your confidence in me is terrifying, you should know better,” he said. He poured himself about an inch of liquor and considered it. “Calliope said this thing about hats… One of a few things she’s said about hats. She said Erik doesn’t have regular parents so we all have to do it. Every time I can’t do it, you all run in and fix it for me.

“Well, it’s not fixed,” he allowed, “but it’s not so broken I can’t keep working on it. I’m some kind of deranged serial arsonist but I’m living with the fire department, and it makes me so damn glad.”

“Yeah, but none of us has any idea what we’re doing,” she said. “We’re not a department, we’re a support group of more arsonists with extinguishers.”

“I think that’s better than just me.” He sipped, grimaced, and then made a smile at her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but it’s better than not knowing at all. Thank you for helping. Please let me take this moment to apologize in advance for the next storm, or whatever I should happen to set on fire before then. I hope it’s easier.”

“Don’t tempt Cousin Violet. Anything you might hope about the future is like a challenge to her. Just sit quietly and wait for her to crush you at her leisure.” She picked up her glass and toasted him with what was left in it. “Get wasted if you have to.”

“You go ahead. I’ll mind the house.”

“Like hell,” she said. Nevertheless, she took the bottle with her and staggered upstairs to bed.

Mordecai sat in the kitchen and listened to the house settling around him, and the people in it. The sounds were like the creaking timbers of a ship at sea, but he had no idea where they were going or who had a hand on the wheel. He was minding the house, he supposed, but as awful as it was sometimes, he really didn’t mind it at all.