I really didn’t like casserole. Who decided that, after tragedy, people needed to Frankenstein whatever they found in their pantry instead of just delivering some groceries? After a miserable day of being an asshole, all I wanted was a pizza. Still, I couldn’t let food go to waste.
Ash wandered in not too long after I’d sat down, his eyes glued to his phone the whole time he made his dinner. The fluorescent lights of the church kitchen didn’t do anybody any favors, but I was pretty sure the bags under his eyes weren’t normal.
“Do you have homework?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. He just slapped some casserole onto a plate and shoved it into the microwave.
“Hey, Martian,” I said, turning in my chair to face him. “Is school going okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
Ash bit the side of his cheek and flipped through something on his phone. His hand trembled faintly.
“Hey, are you doing okay? Are you sleeping well?”
“No,” he ground out, pointedly dropping his hand to glare forward. When the microwave dinged, he pulled out his food and left without a word.
A few minutes later, Jake shuffled in, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Hey, Moonman. Do you have homework?”
Jake grunted a non-answer and prepared a plate.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Hey. Is everything okay with you and Ash? He wasn’t looking—”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
Jake grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and left without even bothering to heat up his food.
I watched the open door for a while after he left, but I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for. They weren’t coming back. I forced myself to take a bite of casserole and not think about the way Dom and Jasika had stared at me that afternoon or the fact that my brothers weren’t talking to me or each other or, apparently, anyone. But thinking about how much I didn’t want to think about it turned the already misguided casserole to cardboard in my mouth.
At a quarter to nine, Dad shuffled in, his shoulders slumped and his eyes half closed, but at least he had the good sense to heat up his food. The hum of the microwave filled the space between us for a minute or so, but soon enough, that was over, and all that was left was him and me and all the stuff we didn’t want to talk about.
He took a bite, and I took one. It felt a bit like eating with a stranger, and I couldn’t shake the ugly feeling that this was all my fault. It was one thing to have secrets. It was another thing for those to come out, and then to keep more of them.
Dad was the first one to speak. “How’re you keeping up with your classes?”
“Fine. Progress reports’ll be out in a few weeks.”
“Good. I don’t want you to fall behind.” He cleared his throat. “I know you had your heart set on Penn State. I thought, maybe, we could go tour it over Christmas.”
Penn State. It felt a million miles away. It was the sort of life another Bryn got to have. But here Dad was, trying to make sure I had it anyway. My throat tightened.
“I thought, with the house gone, my college fund—”
“Is still your college fund.” Dad gave me a tired smile and rested a hand on mine. “I know I’ve depended on you a lot, especially with the boys. But I don’t want you to limit yourself for us. I’ll sort out things with the insurance. It’s not your job to worry about this.”
I bit the inside of my cheek again. I wanted so badly to be the girl who went off to college and had fun.
“I don’t even know what I’ll study.”
“I didn’t, either,” Dad chuckled. “My first year of college I thought I wanted to be a historian. It was no small leap to go into engineering, let me tell you. That’s part of college. It’s figuring out who you are and what sort of life you want to lead.”
I knew what sort of life I wanted to lead. I wanted the house with the picket fence and the stupid dog who was always happy to see you and the good job that could pay for real family vacations, not the same camping trip or beach visit we’d taken every year since we’d come here. I wanted to feel safe. The question was whether or not I was the kind of person who got to live that sort of life. Maybe everything that had happened had warped me somehow inside.
Dom’s and Jasika’s expressions wouldn’t leave my mind.
I swallowed and squeezed Dad’s hand. I wanted to ask how he could keep up so much hope after how badly he’d been hurt by the Fae. I wanted him to tell me that, if he could keep it up after losing his wife and suffering this awful curse and being forced to leave his home, if he could still do all that and still be a good person, then I could certainly get through this. Words had never come easily for me, though, and everything I wanted to say just got caught in my throat. It was a good thing Dad was better at this than I was.
“I just want you to be safe and happy,” he said. “That’s why we came here. You should get to live your own life. Don’t let them define you or dictate who you get to be.”
And I could hear what he wasn’t saying. That was why he’d banned me from working with Gooding the second he’d found out about it. Dad stuff. Maybe part of me was still a little pissed about that. But he was giving me real permission to not have to be the person I’d been in the woods today. Maybe I could be just a bit better.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him close. He smelled like sweat and oil. When he wrapped his arms around me in return, it felt like home.
“Thanks, Dad,” I muttered, dropping a quick kiss to the top of his head.
After that, we talked without really having much else to say. Dad told me about some work at the rig and how a new hire was giving him headaches. I told him about what we’d done in science. It felt like the time flew by, and suddenly, our plates were empty. I still had a stone weighing down my gut, but it was smaller now.
When I flopped down onto my bed that night, my phone buzzed.
Jasika: Is your dad off work on Saturdays? If so, swing by Dom’s place around 10 a.m. If not, we can come to the convent so the boys are supervised.
Ominous. But it meant that maybe they were still willing to talk to me. Not much of a surprise with Jasika, but Dom …
I took a deep breath and glanced around. The shadeling dozed on a pile of dirty clothes. It was basically the only real friend I had. Well. It and Gwen. Not a single human seemed to fit on that roster. But Jasika and Dom were willing to be around me, and they were clearly going to involve themselves in this whether I worked with them or not. And Jasika had saved my ass with the bendith. Working alone hadn’t been a good idea after all.
Maybe this wasn’t the hill I needed to die on. If I worked with them, I could probably stop them from getting themselves killed. And, hey, it could even teach me how to operate like a normal person. Who knew? Maybe, working together, we’d even win.
I took a deep breath and turned back to the phone.
Bryn: I’ll be there.
I FELT LIKE some sort of imposter as I made my way to Helen Grady’s house for the second time in as many days. This wasn’t what I did. This was what other teenagers did while I made sure the boys ate and stopped the shadelings from breaking open the marmalade. But hey, look at me. Going to a classmate’s house after school. Maybe I was an asshole, but I was trying.
The bowl still sat by the gate, now empty. Whether by wild fairies or stray cats, it wasn’t clear, but Dom was certainly making friends. He was awfully good at that.
I made my way to the door and knocked. The door opened. This time, Dom looked me up and down, his wide mouth tugged into a little frown. Without a word, he stepped aside, holding the door open.
Helen’s house still had the salmon-pink walls and worn, beige carpet I remembered from the last time I’d been here with Gooding, and unfortunately, it still smelled like thirty-year-old phone books. But here and there, Post-it notes were stuck to the lamp or the wall or the coffee table, scribbled with “Remember your foot medicine” or “Remember, you can’t drive until your new license comes in.”
Dom closed the door behind us and swore. “Gimme a second … Just go to the kitchen, I’ll meet you there.” He went to the coffee table and grabbed a pad and pen, scribbling away at something. Ms. Helen shifted in her recliner, blinking at him in surprise.
“Donny?”
“Dom,” Dom sighed, ripping the sticky note off the pad and sticking it to the top corner of the TV. “You need to leave these where I put them.”
“It blocks my view.”
“Your meds are more important, Helen. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“There’s too many to remember.”
“That’s why you’ve got the organizer. Here, I’m going to put it right here on the table next to you so you don’t forget.”
It was like watching some sort of surreal scene. Ms. Helen had always been a little bit batty. Hell, when we first moved here, a lot of people brought us casseroles or cookies in an attempt to casually spy on the weird Welsh family who’d moved into the creepy house on the hill. Helen? She’d brought us a tub of sauerkraut. Even so, I didn’t remember Helen being so far gone the last time I’d been here … but it had been a couple of years.
After a long minute of staring, Helen reached for the pill organizer.
“You’re a good boy, Dom, but you’re too old for your age, you know that? You need to live a little. Stop fussing over me. I’ve lived this long without a nanny.”
“You know you love the attention,” Dom said with a laugh. “Hey, I’ve got a couple of friends over. Is it okay if we hang out in the kitchen?”
A hand brushed against mine. I jumped and whirled around to see Jasika, her lips pulled into a little half grimace. Her eyes darted down to my shoulder as she fiddled with her jacket sleeve.
“Come on,” she said softly. “Give them some privacy.”
I followed, something uneasy curling in my stomach. “How long has this been going on?”
Jasika stepped into the kitchen—which looked like a wallpapered nightmare from a ’70s homemaking catalog—and went straight to the cabinet for cups.
“A while. We were all getting a little worried about her until Dom moved in.”
“He takes care of her.” I glanced over my shoulder, but Dom wasn’t here yet. “Is this even legal? I mean … Child Protective Services can’t possibly know.”
Jasika shrugged. “He needs a safe place to live. She needs the money from the state. And, it turns out, she also needs someone to keep an eye on her. He doesn’t mind. The situation could be a lot worse.”
“And what happens when he turns eighteen?”
Jasika started filling the cups from the tap and arched a brow. “For someone who’s usually tight-lipped about herself, you can be kind of nosy.”
Touché.
I sat in the chair and jumped back up as something twanged under my bum. It looked like a ukulele, or a cigar box that really wanted to be a ukulele.
Jasika grinned. “Coming into the house, breaking their stuff.”
“Oh, like you’re so perfect,” I muttered, setting the battered instrument on the table as delicately as I could manage. “I didn’t know Helen was into music.”
“She’s not. But she doesn’t mind me making a little noise. As long as I don’t interrupt Jeopardy!,” Dom announced, ambling into the kitchen. His expression was carefully neutral as he bypassed Jasika and her water and went right to the fridge, grabbing a beer. I felt like I ought to object on principle, but we were in his house, in the presence of his legal guardian. Jasika, on the other hand, shot him a sharp look.
“You’re seventeen.”
“Time flies.” Dom popped the top off the beer, took a swig, and started rummaging through the drawers until he found a large, yellow pad of paper and a pen. “All right,” he said. “So … yesterday. I wasn’t a huge fan of that.”
Understatement of the century.
Jasika shifted a little in her chair to fix me with a look that could have given Gooding a run for his money. Except, coming from Jasika, it managed to feel worse.
Guilt squirmed in my gut and I sighed. “Look. A bendith is dangerous. They plant changelings, they enchant people. She was … I was just…” The longer I spoke, the harder it became under their scrutiny.
“She could have also cursed all the kids in this town,” Jasika pointed out with a frown.
“She could have also been reasoned with,” Dom added. “We didn’t even try. Not really.”
“Did you even hear the things she was saying?” I reminded him. “She didn’t sound like she was up to talk.”
Dom shrugged. “She was trying to get under your skin and you let her.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. “She said some things about my mum. And yeah, I fell for it. I’d take it back if I could. But you called me here, right? I mean, I assume you’ve got reasons to want to take care of this.”
Dom and Jasika glanced between them. Dom drummed his fingers against the bottle before he took a swig.
“Helen’s is the first place I’ve been in a long time where I felt like I belonged. And now magic’s real and I can’t just go back to a life where I forget that. And it’s dangerous, and Helen lives right next to it. I don’t want anything to happen to her.” He straightened. “I think we could work together. As long as nothing like yesterday happens again.”
“It won’t,” I insisted, and turned to Jasika. “I won’t let them get to me again.”
She tucked a curl behind her ear, her lips twisting into a half grimace for just a second as she stared down at the table. My chest tightened, and it didn’t loosen until she took a deep breath.
“I’ve got family, too. And I feel like I’ve always…” She trailed off and shook her head. “This is something I’ve got to do. The way I see it, if we work together, we can check each other. Make each other stronger. Make sure things are done right.”
Or, more directly put, she wanted to make sure I didn’t screw things up again. I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn’t ignore the conversation we’d had a few days ago. About going at it alone. She didn’t want to go at it alone anymore. But teams didn’t just share their skills with each other. They shared their trouble, too.
“It’s great and all that you two want to protect the town. Really. But do you have any idea what you’re volunteering for?”
“We’re not stupid, Bryn.” Jasika leaned forward, resting a hand on mine. “It’s our town, too. We can all work separately, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be more effective if we work together. Provided we lay down some ground rules.”
Her hand felt like a warm, weighted blanket on mine. If I left it too long, I’d feel too comfortable. Too okay with the idea of them fighting and maybe getting hurt. Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away and crossed my arms, glancing between the two of them.
“Okay. My number one rule is if I decide something’s too dangerous for you two, you stay out of it. No questions asked.”
“No deal.” Jasika crossed her arms, too, and arched a brow. “That just sets it up for you to run into something dangerous instead. Look, we’ve all got people to protect, but there has to be a line in the sand. I say we draw it at killing prisoners or suicide scenarios.”
“How about we agree not to rush into any situation without you,” Dom offered. “And in return, Bryn, no killing them.”
Right. I’d been ready for that one. “Deal, unless it’s a life-or-death situation. That includes one of them running off to tell the Unseelie queen what we’re doing.”
Dom drummed his fingers on the table for a long moment before he gave a jerky nod. “Life or death only. Otherwise, I don’t know. Try and catch it or cut a deal. I read that fairies love to make deals. Or else use something out of your magic book. Or get the shadelings to help.”
Jasika blinked. “Magic book?” Then, “Wait. Hold up. What’s a shadeling?”
I shot Dom a halfhearted glare, more out of habit than anything at this point, before turning back to Jasika with a shrug. “The shadelings are … Well, they’re these sort of imps that live in the shadows. They’ve been around ever since my mum went missing. Think The Shoemaker and the Elves, only they smell awful and all they want is food and a safe home…” My gut twisted with a sudden pang of longing. They still hadn’t turned up.
Jasika furrowed her brows and glanced between us.
“They’re kind of cute in a Jim Henson sort of way,” Dom elaborated.
“I guess that’s a thing.” Jasika shook her head. “So what’s this magic book I’ve only just now heard about?”
I squirmed in my seat. It didn’t feel natural, being this open about everything. And Dom had really overstepped, blabbing about Mum’s book. I’d have to be careful moving forward with what I told him. But now the cat was out of the bag. I let my eyes dart up to Jasika, down again, and forced myself to explain about Mum’s jewelry box, the book, and what we’d found out from the water wives. After all, I was making a distinct effort to play nice with others. And maybe Jasika was right. Working together was our best shot, even if it spread the danger around to all of us.
“So if it’s protected by Fae magic, it’s probably got that same magic inside,” I explained. “I don’t want to count it as an asset or a liability until I’ve had a chance to check it out more. Their magic runs on something I don’t understand.”
“Wait, so your mom just happened to have a book of Fae spells lying around?” Jasika demanded, drumming her fingers on the table. “Doesn’t that feel like a big coincidence to you?”
“I … I don’t think so.” I chewed the inside of my lip and reached out, swirling the water in my cup to watch the little whirlpool form in the center. It was easier to watch than their faces. A small voice in my head pointed out that I really didn’t need to tell them. But the words spilled out all the same. Maybe I’d just kept it all pent up so long it only needed a tap to come spilling out. Maybe some small part of me was so desperate to push them away from all of this that I’d tell them everything. “When I was a kid, she taught me all about Fae and fairies. I think she had a past with them.” I swallowed and tried to focus on the singular words. Not the weight they carried. “Um … so I was eight, and I found this Fae wounded in the woods. I didn’t know back then that there were bad ones, so I brought him home to try and help him. I left him in the living room with all the family pictures and went to get bandages. When I came back, the living room was a mess, and he was gone.”
Just thinking about it—the shattered picture frames. The rips in the couch, stuffing everywhere, and Mum’s face when she came home from the store. She must have known what had happened. What would happen. She must have known it was all a trap.
My eyes burned at the memory. I forced myself to drink some water, but it went down like cement.
“They took her. Dad went out to the woods to try and get her back, only when he came home, he was seeing things. The Unseelie did something to him. Gave him the hallucinations. When he realized what they’d done to him I think he gave up hope of finding her. Packed up. Moved halfway across the world to live in a small town with a man who specialized in protection against the fairies. Only I don’t think it was enough. Maybe they, um, they didn’t just want Mum.”
I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t want to look up and see it. It felt weirdly like I’d just stripped down naked in front of them. After a few long seconds, Dom cleared his throat.
“I’m … shit. I’m so sorry.” He tapped his finger against the neck of his bottle. Every little tap was like little bomb going off in my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him take another swig of beer.
“I never realized,” Jasika breathed.
I squirmed in my seat. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel sorry for me. You two need to know the stakes here.”
“Yeah. The stakes. They’re high.” Dom cleared his throat. “But if things go wrong, a lot of people get hurt.”
“You’ve gone at this alone long enough,” Jasika added. “And I get it. It’s made you hard inside. But maybe it’s time to accept help from other people with skin in the game.” She leaned forward and rested her warm hand on mine. Like a weighted blanket, right when I needed it. This time, I didn’t pull away.
“I guess you’ll be teaching me all the things you’ve taught yourself,” I said.
Jasika smirked. “I’ll do my best, as long as you return the favor.”
Dom leaned forward with a grin. “Not to intrude or anything, but there’s one other person who can probably teach us a thing or two.” His eyes shone, and I didn’t even have to ask who he was thinking of.
He was probably right. I turned to Jasika. “Well, if we’re going to start our own little Scooby gang, I think there’s someone you should meet.”