It was a big house and it needed a lot of fixing to be a school. So even though the adults had come up with a mess of projects for themselves, as adults did, there were plenty of places for the kids to pick up the slack.

Bethany was in the backyard with a few others, cleaning and pulling up dead plants. If they could just get the tangled roots out of the way, Lola said she could fix it so they were safe to play in the snow back there, and be as loud as they wanted. In the meantime, they were trying to keep it quiet and subtle. There was a room with big windows that was good for bouncing balls and running around, Seth said it was called a “solarium.” He used to have one of those when he was a kid.

Thus, when three kids burst into the middle of the yard with a roar and a flash of blinding green light, several heads popped out from among the snowy branches and Bethany snapped, “Hey! Take that shit into the solarium!”

“There are doors!” Emily said.

She pointed towards the hedge fence with the handle of her broom. Lola and Otto put those in days ago, right after the stepping stone shortcut to Blueberry Square. Each secret entrance was marked with a red poinsettia, for the season — but it was still okay to just come in the front!

“Maggie,” the girl added with a scowl.

Maggie seemed rather pale. “I…” She clutched her shoulders, felt down her middle, looked at her shoes on the ground and picked up the skirt of her dress, checking for holes. “I didn’t do it!” she cried at last.

“Oh, baby people!” Erik squealed. He looked back at Soup with a smile. “You didn’t tell me there were baby people! Hello, little kiddies! Does anyone want food or a toy? I’m sorry I don’t have much time to play!”

Emily dropped the broom with a clatter. “Did you…?”

Bethany put it more bluntly, “Who the hell is that?”

Charlie had approached cautiously to investigate. Erik handed him a sandwich. Charlie pulled apart the bread and sniffed it before hazarding a bite. While he was chewing, Erik pet him on the head. Charlie brushed off his hand with a frown.

“He wants everyone to call him Greg and he talks to animals,” Soup said quickly. “I don’t think he’s trying to hurt anyone, but the guy is nuts. I just wanted him to ask Samantha not to eat any Digbies and now we’re here all of a sudden.” He glanced around.

Maggie broke off examining her clothes and body. “Scientifically speaking, we should be dead right now, so I’m kinda thrilled to be anywhere.”

“I don’t want her to eat any Digbies, either, so I guess it’s okay,” Bethany said. “Are you gonna want Seth?”

“Ye-eees!” Greg said brightly. Erik held the kitten over his head and turned a slow circle. “It’s the outside! It was here all the time! Oh, that? That’s snow! It’s not broken, the outside just does that sometimes at this latitude. Er, around here. Here, look!”

Digby hissed and puffed up as soon as his feet touched the ground. He began walking sideways on his tiptoes and crawled onto Erik’s shoe, crying.

“Oh, there-there.” Erik scooped up the kitten and brushed past the gathering of baby people. “Excuse us, we don’t like the outside anymore. He’s just so little!” Erik proceeded indoors with the kitten, followed by Charlie, with a sandwich, and a wagging Samantha with a jingle ball in her mouth.

“Honestly, I don’t think it matters what we want,” Maggie said. She caught the door and followed them too.

Emily swatted Soup on the shoulder. “We’ve got major renovations going on right now, and Lola and the little guy are throwing weird magic all the hell over the place, and he’s still trying to fit in some school. He has enough to deal with!”

“I think the god’s only got about fifteen minutes left,” Soup said, wincing. “Maybe he won’t notice?”

◈◈◈

Seth was in one of the larger second storey rooms. He suspected a games room, but it was hard to tell without furniture.

There was a definite gymnasium across the hall that needed serious repair and equipment before it was fit for any gymnasiuming, but once they got a real floor on the place you might do a few laps on your horse, if you were so inclined. The remains of the floor also made a kitchen ceiling. Probably the servants were expected to put up with whatever calisthenics were going on, or it never got used in the first place.

He just couldn’t fathom it. Country estates needed to be sprawling because the help lived there, and any visitors would too. You were essentially operating a tiny city for three to twelve months of the year — depending on taste. This monstrosity was in a city! Everyone could go home to their families at night, or stay in a nice hotel. If you went for a walk down the perfectly good street, you didn’t have to worry about wolves, bears, or getting lost and freezing to death.

Well, given the neighbourhood, the other pedestrians might just let you freeze, but if you didn’t look too shabby you could always duck into a shop and order some damn coffee.

The expedition to the master bathroom in search of any workable plumbing (there was none) had yielded horrors. Pink marble.

Nouveau riche, he thought with a sniff.

He reached up without thinking and touched his ear, which Dad or Auntie Di would give a light tug when he was being annoying, but in a cute way. Hey, don’t be a snob, Sprite. You’re only two generations off the boat yourself.

He winced. Sorry, ma famille. If you can hear me, wherever you are.

“Oh, Mr. Zusman! Woo-hoo! Earth to teacher!” Lola was waving a set of plans in his face. She had been holding them up and he was supposed to be approving them. However, as was often the case with Lola’s plans, he had no idea what he was supposed to approve.

“I’m sorry, Lola. I’m not very good with magical notation. Is it, um…” No, he told himself. It can’t be an oubliette. “What is it?”

“An automated, magic-assisted generic switcharoonie system!” Lola said, beaming.

“I-I…”

Otto raised a hand. “You know those monster movies where someone takes a candlestick off the wall and they find a whole secret lab behind a bookcase? It’s that, but secret anything. Twelve foot radius.”

After a moment’s pained concentration, Seth finally grasped that what looked like an enormous lazy susan wasn’t a trap for unwelcome guests, but a way to hide the entire contents of a room inside another, adjacent room.

“I can make it bigger!” Lola said. “But I don’t think you have two big rooms right next to each other.”

“We could always divide one in half,” Otto said. “You can have a faux wall anywhere you want one…”

Seth put up both hands, begging for a pause. “I’m sorry. They have the blueprints for this place and they’re supposed to make sure I haven’t altered it. Aren’t they going to notice I am missing an entire room?”

Otto snorted. “No.”

“We could put everything in slipspace!” Lola said. She produced a pencil and began to alter the plans.

Seth removed the pencil and held it where she couldn’t reach. “No. I am willing to allow a few trap doors — if they really are as safe as you say, Mr. Holtz — but you will not install architectural features in my school that could murder an entire roomful of children by trapping them in an alternate dimension. Or even one.”

He managed a small smile and handed back the pencil. “Or a cat. I think we have to assume any room might contain a hidden cat at any time, there is really no accounting for cats. We must be cat-safe, Lola.”

She snickered and saluted him with the tip of the pencil.

“Just off the top of my head,” Otto said. “I’d say we can hide twenty to thirty-percent of the square-footage with just plain wood and canvas and they’ll never notice. They’re not going to measure and add it up. As long as the rooms seem to be in the right places and the right shape, you’re perfectly fine. I, personally, have bricked up at least seventeen separate annoying theatre critics within the walls of the Slaughterhouse and they will never be found.”

Seth and Lola were staring at him with pale expressions.

“The Cask of Amontillado?” he said. “No?” He laughed. “Oh, come on, you two! It’s a horror story! You know where I work. My gods, I’m not serious!” He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Or am I?”

“Um,” Seth said.

Otto produced a pencil of his own from a pocket. “Look, I’ll take the blueprints home tonight and give you a definite number in a couple of days. I’m interested now anyway, it’s like a logic puzzle. Don’t throw away your switcharoonie system, Lola. At the very least, I know a few set designers who are going to want to worship at your feet for it.”

She smiled and tipped him a bow, like a good almost-soldier.

He took her hand. “No bows, Lola. Please don’t ever get into acting. You’re far too clever for that.”

She laughed.

“They’ve already got their hooks into Milo, you know. Be strong, and…”

“Here, kitty-kitties!” cried a high, jovial, accented voice downstairs. “Come on! I only have a little time left! I have yum-yums!”

Seth dropped the full load of plans he’d accepted, perhaps mixing them irreparably. He didn’t even apologize. He stepped in the middle of them and ran out the door, leaving it open behind him.

◈◈◈

A blue man in a mismatched sport coat and slacks appeared at the second floor railing. He caught the edge of it with both hands and leaned down to stare at them, so quickly that he might’ve been intending to do a full flip into the entry hall like a stuntman. “Greg?” And, an instant later, “Digby?”

Erik was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, near the extra-large Yule tree the neighbourhood had provided, surrounded by animals. Two kittens were accepting a treat from his hand, one was eating out of what appeared to be an open tuna can, and Digby — the only one of the four who hadn’t been assigned a new identity like witness protection — was on top of his head, mildly puffy and looking around at the strangers. Soup’s dog, Samantha, was wagging and examining all the cats with unusual restraint — unusual only if one was unacquainted with Brother Grigori Francis, that was.

Digby startled and hissed at the presence of yet another new person.

Maggie removed him from Erik’s hair with a frown. “We’re just visiting, so don’t get any funny ideas, Mr. Zusman. This is still my cat.”

“Of course he is, Maggie,” Seth said. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised.”

Soup was wringing his chequered driving cap in both hands. “I am really sorry, Seth. I just wanted to show Maggie a funny postcard and it got way out of hand.”

Seth shook his head. “No-no. It’s all right. I understand. Truly.” He just wanted to secure a safe place for some of the children to sleep, and now he had people trying to install trick architecture in his school. Also, a school. A much bigger school, with a roof and a garden and stuff. “These, um, these things happen.”

“Apparently,” Emily said, hands planted on her hips and frowning at all of them.

“Hello, Mister Person!” Greg said, waving Erik’s hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m just here for the kitties and the puppy. The kitties are very happy with your big house and the inside tree they can climb and the mousies — even if they’re not big enough to eat the mousies yet. It’s enrichment! You’re a good kitty daddy! I’ll leave you a candy before I go!”

Charlie had already finished his sandwich. He stopped brushing the crumbs from his shirt, “Hang on, you got candy?”

Various children, who had been monitoring Erik’s weird behaviour from a safe distance, appeared and crept nearer.

“One candy each for the baby people, please, Greg,” Seth said. “We don’t want them to get sick.”

Erik beamed. “Of course! Good person! What about toys?”

“Um, soft toys, please. You remember soft toys? They like soft toys.”

“With squeakers?”

“Um, use your judgment. Thanks.”

“And some toy mousies for the kitties!” Greg declared. He set four down on the stairs. “These are real fur, but don’t eat them. They’re not for eating. If you eat your toys, you don’t have them anymore!”

Samantha barked.

“The puppy says I’m right, she knows from experience,” Greg said mildly. “Good girl, puppy. Here’s your jingle ball!”

Seth remained upstairs and allowed the god to play with the animals. He caught Lola and Otto and made sure they also remained upstairs, out of sight. No more distractions. (That, and Seth thought Greg might say something really insulting to Otto, who was extra small and “cute.”)

The god only had a few minutes to spare. He cooed and squealed at the cute kittens and the puppy, then he pet each one and told them to be good.

“Now listen, people,” Greg said, as he began handing out candy bars and soft toys to the assembled company, one by one. “I asked the puppy very nicely not to eat the kitties, but I’m not a pack member or even a friend. She knows you and trusts you more. If you ever start treating the kitties like they’re food, she’ll believe what you’re saying. So be nice and gentle with all of them. People who are mean to animals go straight to hell.” Erik winked. “Remember that!

“Do you want your candy and toy, little plaid man?” he called up towards Seth. “Or do you want a sandwich and theatre tickets? You’re all grown up, aren’t you?”

Seth startled and came quickly down the stairs. “No, candy and a toy is fine, Greg. You can just leave it if you have to go.”

Erik smiled. “I have thirty seconds. Come on, tall-baby.”

Seth accepted a candy bar, a toy cat with a squeaker in it, and a pat on the head.

“Be good everyone!” Greg said, waving. “Have fun! Enjoy your cute little religious hol…”

Erik staggered and sat down on the stairs.

“Oh!” Seth crouched and put a hand on his back to support him. “I’m sorry. I lost count. Are you all right, dear?”

Erik was breathing hard through an open mouth. His shoulders were tight. He didn’t look back. He stared at the roomful of kids with their candy and toys, nearly frozen.

Samantha barked and he shuddered.

“I,” Seth said. He shut his eyes. He began to speak before he even knew what he was going to say, “You know, Erik, I have a thing or two I’d like you to help me with. It’s a lucky thing you showed up. Will you come with me — I suppose it’s a little hard to move after that. I’ll just carry you, all right? Here we go.” He picked up the boy, held him against one shoulder and ducked through the other children.

Soup called out, “Seth, Erik just got through holding a god! Let someone else help you! Don’t be a jerk!”

Maggie pulled him back. She shook her head. “He’s not,” she said softly.

◈◈◈

Seth ducked down a hallway at random, selected a room, darted inside and kicked the door shut. He pressed his back against it and slid down to the floor, holding Erik against him. “Okay. Okay. Whatever you need to do. They won’t see or hear. This nightmare house is a maze, with thick walls. It’s okay. I’m sorry it’s me, but it’s okay. I’m sure your uncle will be here as fast…”

Erik shuddered again and began to cry.

“Okay. That’s okay.” Seth bounced Erik lightly and stroked his back. “It’s hard. It’s so hard. I know how it is. You don’t have to tell me. We’ll just stay here until…”

(You do know, don’t you?)

Seth jerked back as if stung.

Erik winced up at him. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and mouthed a word: Sorry.

“We’re just too close,” Seth said, aloud. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry it’s me. I know you wouldn’t pick me for this. I know I-I’m not good at this…”

Ghosts. He was a monster with a headful of ghosts and Erik could see them. He saw Erik seeing. Ghosts of ghosts. Reflections.

Erik saw him screaming at a terrified boy clutching a broken pencil, a boy who had obviously not been all right. Not at the boy, at the children around him, so they would go and leave him alone, but he saw widening of the eyes and tightening of the mouth and he knew all at once that it didn’t matter who he’d been screaming at. He’d scared the boy so much he couldn’t even cry anymore.

And nested within that memory, the sensation of being crammed in a cupboard, as tight and small as he could make himself, but they still wouldn’t leave him alone. He cupped his face in his hands, hiding, and pleading — I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t do anything. I’m so sorry…

He saw Ann. She was reaching out a hand to touch him, to comfort him. He drew back from her and knocked into the counter. No, I have to go. You can take care of him. I don’t know… I don’t know anything…

Mordecai said, Alba was right not to trust…

Seth let go and threw himself backwards, but he hit the door and could go no farther. “I’m sorry,” he said faintly, not a thought, not another ghost, but almost a breath. “Sorry.”

(I know you don’t want me and this is why.)

He put his feet on the floor and pushed sideways, trying to break a connection neither one of them could control.

Erik shook his head and clung around his neck.

(I don’t want you to go. I’m scared and I can’t talk and you know… you know…)

He had been sitting in a sparse room with a funny lamp and a big window he shouldn’t look out of. He had his toy soldiers to play with, and a teddy bear with a tin button for an eye. The stuffed elephant was still too hard, too many patterns on the fabric. He heard faint voices but he ignored them. Until…

“WHAT?”

Not his voice. It was his voice, but he never used it like that. Then the soldiers were gone. The room was gone. He saw his hand go out and throw his uncle against the wall. And he felt himself… He felt his body. He felt this thing that he had let into his body being so mad and wanting to hurt a person he loved and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was see it happen and feel himself doing it.

Maggie said, Scientifically speaking, we should be dead right now, so I’m kinda thrilled to be anywhere.

Erik was sobbing.

Seth curled around him.

(Okay. Yeah. I know. I don’t want you to know how I know, but…)

He didn’t have a room, he’d never been able to put together a room. Not even a window. He saw and felt everything — muddled from the drugs though perfectly clear and cheerful at the same time. He couldn’t move; he was moved. He couldn’t say, “I don’t want to feel happy, these people are my friends and they’re dying!” And he thought, No-no-no, please, not the little girl. Just keep walking. Please. Don’t…

Cheer up, dear girl, Taggart said, beaming at a weeping child with her head swathed in bloody bandages. We’ll soon have it mended, and then right back at ‘em! Got to keep those supply lines up! Come on, sweetheart. Give us a grin.

Seth shuddered, burning with mortification. (…I am so sorry.)

Seth had clapped an urgent hand to his mouth — which felt dirty from too much smiling — as soon as he could, and then he threw up anyway. Erik knew, but he tried not to know. He shut his eyes and hugged the teacher’s head. (No more ghosts.)

Charlie said, No scary ghosts, Katie. No scary ghosts.

Seth laughed weakly and brushed Erik away. “I really am sorry, Erik. I wish I’d let Diane teach me how to use it.”

(Are you mad I’m using it?)

“No. I know it’s hard for you to talk. I don’t want you to get hurt, but sometimes everything hurts. Just try to talk when you can.”

Erik nodded. He hid his damp face against Seth’s shirt. There were no more words, only fragments of confused, hurt feelings.

Seth frowned and drew back. “Erik, that was not your fault.” He cast his eyes aside, reflexively. As if he were going to climb up on the counter and go after the cookie jar and he wanted to be very sure no one was going to come in. He knew what he wanted and he grabbed it fast, like a pickpocket.

Mordecai said, I don’t want them to fight, either, and he’s not too hard to hold. It’s all right, Erik. I’ll mind him if he needs it, just don’t give him more than an hour.

“He forgot he fed animals the wrong thing two times and Greg found out about it,” Seth said. “He should have left the room or told you it wasn’t safe. He messed up.”

“My idea,” Erik muttered.

“You’re nine,” Seth said. “And I know that feels old enough from the inside, but I promise you, it’s not. You can do a lot, and you have done a lot of very hard things, but there is resilience and experience you just don’t have yet. The people who love you need to be responsible and fill in the gaps. When they don’t, that is not your fault.”

Erik sat back and looked up at him. “You weren’t nine for that stuff and I don’t think it was your fault either.”

Seth made a weak smile and sighed. “Life must be lived forwards, but it can only be understood backwards. Sometimes the philosophers get it right. You will always — no matter how old you are — always be able to look back and say, ‘Oh, gee, if only I knew then what I know now.’ You can’t go back and fix me, and neither can I. All I can do is try to help you understand you need to be patient with yourself, and maybe it won’t be as hard for you as it’s been for me.”

“I’m mad you think it’s funny my uncle got stuck to the wall,” Erik muttered, looking away. “I didn’t mean to see and I’m sorry, but I saw and it makes me mad. You’re just sad about me. It’s not just me, I love him too. And I love you. I don’t think it’s funny that dumb god made you eat horse food. That’s another thing you didn’t want to do but a scary thing inside you made you, not a cute story for him to tell. You’re both wrong.”

Seth smiled and sat back against the wall. “I wouldn’t have shown you any of that if I had any way to edit what comes out of my brain, and I’m sorry too. But I’m not trying to be mean. He isn’t either. That’s some experience you’re missing, and I’ll try to fill it in.

“Greg does get very mad sometimes, and that can be scary, but he doesn’t want to hurt people. People are animals, too, he says. He just doesn’t quite get how he’s supposed to treat us, and why we act the way we do. We’re very complicated animals, and he’s not human so he doesn’t know how it is. Did he give anyone theatre tickets? Did you notice?”

Erik shrugged. “He tried, but nobody wanted them. Some shows I never heard of.”

“They’re probably not playing anywhere near us or in the same language, or maybe they don’t even exist right now. He gave my Aunt Diane — I swear, this really happened — a ticket to see Titus Andronicus at the Globe Theatre — which was in Elbany and burned down a couple hundred years ago. She thought it was hilarious and she used it as a bookmark.

“Greg has somehow picked up that human beings are excited to receive theatre tickets, but not that we’re excited because we can actually go to the theatre and see the show. I kinda think he expects us to bat them around like yarn.”

Erik snickered, in spite of himself.

“So it’s not just funny because your uncle and I saw something mean happen to somebody, it’s funny because Greg is so clueless — and clueless in a way that doesn’t cause real harm. I have never seen him hurt anyone. I am positive he wouldn’t do anything to hurt your uncle, or to hurt you by sending your uncle away forever, or to hurt Maggie.

“He will yell and scold, and he does pick people up and move them without asking, like when Digby — the first Digby — was eating our turkey off the table and my mother screamed at him and grabbed him. She probably made him really unhappy when she did that, but she didn’t hurt him, or even want to hurt him. And she didn’t send him to the North Pole, although for a couple seconds there I bet she wanted to.”

Erik’s small smile faded. “So you were just saying my uncle messed up because he let me get scared.”

“I guess so,” Seth said. He shook his head. “But I’ve messed up that way too. I know you saw that. I’m not being any harder on him than I am on myself.”

“You’re way harder on you.”

“I guess so. That’s something I try not to show people, because it’s not nice of me. But I can’t control what I show you, and all I can do is say I’m sorry again. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t think anybody does.” Erik hugged him. “But you do all right.”

◈◈◈

Maggie finally produced a threatening purple fireball and backed into the centre of the huge room. “Lay off, Mom! I mean it! I do not want to go to that janky-ass hospital. There is nothing they can do to me that Hyacinth can’t, and I am fine!”

“You are not exhibiting symptoms of a blood clot or air embolism,” the General replied. “I am pleased that you are not dying immediately, but you may require surgery to remove any number of possible foreign objects. This is best diagnosed by some sort of objective machine that produces images, not an ex-medic with minimal training who closes her eyes and guesses.

“I do not blame you for your skepticism regarding the facilities at Our Merciful Lord, but under the circumstances, I believe we can afford Sol Invictus. I will also cover your expenses, Mr. Rinaldi, since your life has been endangered through no fault of your own.” She nodded to Soup. “However, the dog and the kitten will require a veterinarian, and they are of lower priority. We will return for them. If you will simply allow me to collect Master Weitz, we may be on our way.”

“You are not going to collect Erik,” Maggie replied. She leaned closer and spoke through clenched teeth, “And you are not going to make me say why in front of all these damn kids. Get a freaking clue, Mom.”

Various children were still consuming candy and watching the show, although a few of them had peeled off to play with the animals.

Maggie stepped back again, guarding the stairs and access to the second floor railing — she knew her mother could fly. “Erik is busy,” she said, a bit louder.

Probably busy having hysterics already, but if her mom ran in and told him he might’ve got them all killed and tried to drag him to the hospital, he’d certainly start.

She was pretty sure no one was going to die anyway, not really die. Uncle Mordecai wasn’t that dumb, no matter what her mom thought. The danger here was social. Everyone thought Erik was weird as hell, there was no fixing that, but maybe weird and a crybaby could be avoided. Erik was gonna go to school with these people here.

“Nobody is dying and we’re just gonna wait for Mordecai to get here and then go home,” Maggie said, still clutching the fireball. “Hey, Emily, if you’ve still got that hotplate, maybe you could make some tea?”

“Um,” Emily said.

Maggie looked hopeful at her. “Please, huh?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks. I really mean it.” She smiled. “Hey, Soup? Show us the funny postcard.”

“Uh,” He put a hand on his pocket. “Uh, Maggie, I don’t think…”

“We’re having a nice, normal afternoon with cute animals and tea and nobody’s dying, so let’s have the goddamn funny postcard, okay?”

Grimacing, Soup produced the postcard and showed it to her.

She gave a gasp and the fireball fizzled. “What a funny random bird,” she said evenly. “Can I see it for a second?” …so I can set it on fire? She tugged it by the corner.

He let her have it and backed off a pace, holding up both hands. He knew what she was doing. “I bet it’s a raven, they’re clever.”

She winced. The white patches on the wings were obvious. But if she burned the card, it wouldn’t matter. “Yeah. Hilarious.” Her fire spell failed to engage. “Uh.”

“May I see the postcard, Magnificent?” said the General, from directly behind it. She also took hold of the corner and tugged.

There was no point in trying to sell a lie now, but Maggie said, “Random bird,” with a weak smile, hoping to pick up some points for humour.

The General observed a magpie striding towards the automatic sliding glass door of a shop with something in its beak. It waited for the door to open, showing no panic or fluttering against the glass, then stepped onto the sidewalk. It was carrying a small paper bag, and the photo was clear enough to read the logo and printing. Cheese & Onion Kettle Krispies, a brand of potato chips.

The bird did not even bother to take wing. It strolled brazenly out of frame like any other pedestrian.

Just Another Day in San Rosille! the cheerful caption informed her.

“I paid for,” Maggie said.

The General raised a hand like a traffic signal declaring a stop. “Don’t patronize me, Magnificent.”

“I’m sorry,” she said meekly.

“I am not the injured party.” The General held up the card. “You prefer cheese and onion flavour?”

Maggie blinked. She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Mr. Graham tried to warn me, but he failed to do so coherently. Given his condition, I would say neither one of us is to blame, but I am being charitable. You may show the other children, Mr. Rinaldi.”

Soup snatched the card and scuttled away. Emily caught his arm and held up a steaming teapot. “I don’t have enough cups, what am I supposed to do?” she hissed.

“What’ve you got in the kitchen?” he asked.

“A load of holes!” she replied.

“It’s not that I don’t approve of your logic, Magnificent,” the General was saying. “I don’t wish to give you that impression. This is a lot of calories in a light package, shelf stable, and nobody is going to arrest a bird, but this is illegal and unnecessary.”

Maggie shrugged again. “It’s fun.”

The General sighed. “Am I failing to provide you with enough challenge?”

“Mom, I said fun,” Maggie said. She shook her head. “I don’t need that from you. I mean, I don’t need you to give it to me. I go out and get it myself. That’s kinda the point.”

She leaned in, and took one of her mother’s hands to pull her closer, “Please don’t scare Erik with all this hospital stuff. He feels bad enough already. Seth ran him out of here so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. It scared the hell out of me, too, but I’m fine.”

She frowned, considering her next move, and decided to give it one last little nudge trying to get what she wanted. “A person can get scared and not have to justify it by dragging me to a hospital for x-rays. You don’t have to do anything.” She smiled weakly. “It’s okay if you just flew over here to make sure I was okay. And, you know, thanks.”

“You are trying to obscure the fact that I must provide consequences for your behaviour,” the General said, but softly.

“No,” Maggie said. She snickered. “Okay, maybe. But can we do it later?”

“I will satisfy myself with allowing Hyacinth to examine you,” the General said. “At home. To further preserve family harmony, I will give you a reprieve on your criminal activities, until your father returns.”

Maggie smiled. Her dad wasn’t due back until after Yule, and he didn’t believe in real punishment. Just talking until everyone was happy again.

“…If you also promise to refrain from breaking the law until then.”

The girl’s expression fell. “Aw, Mom, that’s like two whole weeks. What if there’s an emergency?”

“Give me a chance to deal with it first.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“…I am of the mind that if Mordecai did not okay this ridiculous god-related solution, I could have simply talked Mr. Rinaldi into providing Samantha with some basic obedience training as well.”

Maggie just nodded, hiding her small smile with a hand. Her mom had built up quite a head of steam on the way over. It was hard to brake a freight train all at once.

Lola was offering Emily some assistance with dishing out tea, or producing some more cups. Otto piped up and said he ought to cut down to Chapman Lane and get everyone “proper tea.”

“Hon, a god just materialized in the front room and gave everyone candy.”

“That’s not a balanced meal, Lola, for shame.”

“Can you even see over the counter?” Bethany asked him.

“Well, I’ve learned to yell very loudly, my dear. Come on, kids!” he said, demonstrating. “Who’s hungry? I’ll take sandwich orders. I’ve got a pencil.”

He was still doing so when Hyacinth and Mordecai barrelled in the front door, with twigs in their hair and a rolled carpet.

“Oops, here’s two more. Do you want anything for tea, lady and gentleman?”

“Where’s Erik?” Mordecai said.

“You at least ought to bake him into a meat pie first,” Otto said. He noted confused expressions and threw up his hands. “Sweeney Todd! For goodness sakes, get some culture! This is a school, isn’t it? I’m coming back to do you a guest lecture on modern horror fiction and the penny dreadful. You’ll love it! Miss Emily, when’s a good time?”

“The day after we have toilets that flush,” she replied dryly.

“Ah! Very well, I’ll pencil you in for the spring.”

“What happened to you guys?” Lola said. She dusted Mordecai’s coat with a hand and pulled a sprig of evergreen out of Hyacinth’s doctor bag.

“Hyacinth can’t drive,” said Mordecai. “Where’s Erik?”

“It doesn’t have gas, brakes or a steering wheel and I think I did pretty darn good!” Hyacinth said. She shook out the carpet, shedding a few more branches on the floor. (Emily groaned, “We are trying to clean up in here!” and was ignored.) “It’s still faster than walking.”

“The carpet still works?!” Maggie cried. She ran forwards with both hands out to take it.

“Illegal within city limits, Magnificent,” said the General.

“Goddammit!”

“Logic, Maggie,” Hyacinth said. “Milo made it and he thinks objects have feelings. If the nice carpet couldn’t fly anymore, it would be sad.”

“Mom, can we visit the country? They’ve got, um, fresh air? And vegetables…”

“We are not here making a social call!” Mordecai snapped. “Where the hell is Erik?”

Erik peeked out from a branching hallway with a smile and waved. “I heard you the first time, Uncle.”

“We were already on our way back,” Seth added. “I will say this for the place, it is well-insulated. Except for the holes.”

Mordecai read the roomful of children plus the fact that Erik had a damp shirt collar and his metal eye in his pocket. He smiled. “I just wanted to be sure Greg got you here safe, dear one. Are you ready to come home now?”

Erik shrugged with deliberate nonchalance. “Yeah, I guess so. Seth just wanted our pancake recipe. He has a kitchen now.”

“Pending,” Emily said.

“Two eggs, Erik, is that right?” Seth said.

“Just the yolks.”

“No wonder they’re so good. I’m glad you’re taking such good care of Digby, Maggie,” he added. “Thank you all for helping make sure all the kittens are safe around Samantha. Do you think he’s going to be all right to walk home or would you like a box?”

Maggie regarded the pile of four sleeping kitties under the Yule tree. It had been decorated by cut and folded paper ornaments, many of them signed by their makers in crayon. After being encouraged to run after their new toy mice by most of the resident children, the kittens were sacked. Samantha had more stamina; Charlie was throwing the jingle ball for her.

She blew out a long sigh. She was tired of doing feelings, but she couldn’t fake like she didn’t know.

It wasn’t like what people always said about Erik, when they gave him stuff. That guy in the sport coat did not look like he needed a kitten, let alone four. When he abandoned whatever he was doing upstairs and came running, he didn’t even seem particularly happy to see the kitten. He seemed surprised to see a kitten riding a god in Erik’s body, and then he adapted.

This was a guy pinned in a spotlight that he did not ask for, who was trying to juggle fifteen different things at once and keep smiling. Then Erik barrelled into the performance and Seth managed to catch everything like one of those cartoon waitresses who almost dropped a tray, and the scared green kid too. All in a day’s work, folks. So who ordered the meatloaf?

He even caught himself before he said anything as if she were here to give the cat back, like a full cup of coffee balancing on the tip of his shoe.

Service people like that deserved a tip and she knew darn well he didn’t want any more money.

From a moral standpoint, there was no way she could work her way around to picking up that sleepy kitty and saying, Bye-bye, see you after New Year’s. It didn’t matter about Seth, she would feel bad.

“Greg said Digby misses you and he’d like a garden to play in,” Maggie said. “He loves me, too, but I’m going to be over here all the time anyway, so he might as well stay.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t like to break up a set. That okay with you, Erik?”

Erik glanced from Seth to the kittens under the tree — four fluffy Yule gifts. Noisemakers, for New Year’s. His smile brightened. “Yeah!”

“Okay,” she waved him over, “then we gotta go home and make dinner or else Milo and Calliope won’t eat.”

“It’s Sir Thomas Rattletrap, Esq. all over again,” Hyacinth muttered. She unrolled the carpet with a theatrical snap, and a grin. “Wanna fly home?”

“No,” said Mordecai. He took Erik by the hand, leaning closer, “Are the pancakes okay?”

“They were worried about you, but Seth told me how Greg is a total goofball,” Erik replied. “Did you really get him to understand people like soft toys just so you could use them to patch a hole in the wall?”

“It was a chain of deals, but that was close to the last link. I’ll show you the bit of wall one of these days, you can still see the teddy bear faces if you know where to look.” He raised his voice, “Seth? Thank you for looking after the pan… the children. I really appreciate it.”

Seth was on his hands and knees under the tree, examining one of the kittens. “You miss me, Digby?”

“Mew,” the grey kitten replied.

“Midnight missed you too!” Bethany declared.

The children closed ranks around the tree and the teacher. Various voices assured him that Patchy and Tiger had also missed him and liked the school. Positive opinions of his cat-parenting ability were expressed, and some hopes for the garden. Emily volunteered Soup and Samantha’s assistance for the rest of the day. As it appeared there would be sandwiches involved, they were willing to go along.

Lola finally broke through the throng and put both arms around the poleaxed gentleman under the tree. “Happy Yule, Seth.” The children agreed.

“Oh.” He managed a smile, and a nod. “Thank you, Lola. Maggie. Erik. Everyone. Shall, um, shall we try and get in a bit of a lesson while Otto brings back the sandwiches?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bethany said. Barring Lola, she was nearest.

He stood. “What would you like to learn about, my dear?”

“I guess kittens?” Faint agreement all around.

“Certainly! Let’s see… Kittens are mammals, just like human beings. That means they are warm-blooded animals with fur, or hair…”

The 217 Violena Street natives found it appropriate to roll up the magic carpet and sneak out the front door of the school.

◈◈◈

Erik hung back with Maggie on the way home. “Greg didn’t say Digby missed Seth,” he needled her, but gently.

“Give the guy a break, it’s Yule,” Maggie said. “It’s close enough, and it’ll make him happy. I can get another kitten somewhere if I want one, he likes that one.”

“Thanks for remembering he’s a boy with feelings,” Erik said. He paused. “Is your mom mad at me?”

She shrugged. “Not mad. Not at you. But she was gonna drag you to the hospital uptown and I threatened to set her on fire and she quit it. Eventually.” She cast her eyes aside. “There may have been an incriminating postcard of me involved. I’ll show you later.”

Erik nodded. He was interested, but he didn’t want to talk about that yet. He dropped his voice, “Thanks for remembering I’m a boy with feelings too.” He frowned. “You didn’t forget I’m a boy, right?”

She smiled. “Nah. I’ve known you’re a boy with feelings ever since I made you cry about Santa Claus.”

“I’m too big for that now, but don’t make Lucy cry, she almost knows how to talk.”

“Yeah, well, I’m too big for making kids cry about Santa Claus, so don’t worry. Here.” She passed him the postcard. “Mom says I can’t break the law anymore until Dad gets home.”

Erik held up the card, “That’s an expensive bag of chips.”

“Yeah, I guess. Cost me a kitten.”

“When you get another one, I’ll have Greg explain to Samantha it’s not food too.”

She stopped walking. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.” He tugged her by the hand. “Even if I screw it up, I got a lot of arsonists to take care of me.”