Nick

I scanned the new-releases rack at the comic shop in the mall, a hole in the wall called Phoenix Comics. I loved little places like this because they could have something limited edition long after it sold out in bigger shops. Though my favorite part of this store may have been the musty smell of aging paper. Issues shifted around on the rack before me, but this wasn’t going to be my lucky day. I glanced up at the clerk behind the counter, an almost-middle-aged black woman with a dragon on her shirt and cascades of thin braids around her shoulders. She sighed at her phone on the countertop, as she hovered her hand above it.

“Do hand motions work for you?” I asked, approaching the counter and scanning its contents: two shelves of miniature figurines, mostly the play pieces of tabletop games.

“Nope. You’d think they’d put a trackball in these damn things for telekins,” she mused, her fingers twiddling. “A super tiny one.”

“Patent that and sell it to a tech company for a ridiculous amount of money.”

The clerk chuckled and continued her twiddling. I let my attention drift to the swiveling rack of key chains, bottle openers, and lighters. All the major comics were represented. Oh, capitalism.

“Do you have tinker-brigade figures in stock yet?” I asked, and the clerk looked up with a smile.

“Little bit too exclusive for us to get one of the first runs.”

I nodded, and resumed scanning rows of the older comics, taking note of old favorites I could show Scott.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, and grimaced at Dad’s number on the screen. He could leave me a message. I shoved the phone back in my pocket and got through another row before it rang again.

“Fine, fine,” I muttered, pressing Answer. “Hey, Dad!”

“Nick! How’re the classes going?”

My eyes narrowed at his chipper voice. I responded in kind. “Great! They’re fun. I’m learning so many cool things.”

Dad sighed heavily. “That’s a crock of shit, isn’t it?”

There was his typical tone. I stopped midstride toward the back of the shop, where the action figures filled a whole wall from floor to ceiling. “Maybe?”

“We spent over a week negotiating your allowance and you blow three months worth on a single order of . . . what was it this time?”

Straight to the point, wasn’t he? I ground my teeth and turned away from the wall of figures. There was no way I could talk to him and give those beauties the attention they deserved. I nodded a goodbye to the clerk before sweeping the door open in time to walk through it unhindered.

“It’s a hand-painted special edition,” I started, taking long strides through the mall, and trying to ignore the telepath adverts, “from one of my favorite comics. You probably don’t want to know which one—”

“No, I don’t.”

Ugh. “Right. But. It’s from the same series as the mermaid Mom gave me.”

I left the mall, escaping into the parking lot, then took some deep breaths to level my pulse before resuming a quick pace back to campus. At least the fog would keep me from overheating.

The silence before Dad spoke was long enough for me to feel uneasy. “Every time, it’s something you can relate back to your mother. Every large purchase. Every first-run legendary edition whatever they are. I don’t know if I believe it anymore, honestly.”

I hit the street corner and the crossing light started flashing, but I didn’t step forward. “They’re from the same series. I wouldn’t lie about that. You can look it up.”

Dad grumbled, but phone static obscured his words. “That’s not the point, Nick.”

“School really is going okay,” I tried. “Though I have a bunch of reading for English lit.”

“And that means you get to spend hundreds on a doll?”

I readjusted my glasses. A loud truck went by, and I waited for it to pass before I answered. “They’re action figures. But even if they were dolls—”

“My question stands.”

“I was happy, so yes.” The next walking light flashed, and I crossed the street, continuing my trek. The campus was only a block away but lost in the fog.

“What do you think happens when you graduate? I keep paying for your life?”

To the damn gods. “No.”

“Then get your priorities straight, or get a job.”

“Okay.” Fine, fine. Whatever. Fuck.

We said goodbye, and I tried to ignore the heat in my cheeks. I bounded downhill, the soccer field obscured through trees and white, and sent Scott a text.

Nick: Wanna hang today?

Scott: Can’t, dude. Parents are about to show up.

That was brutally unfair, after the conversation I just went through. But . . . That’s right. The crap that Scott was going through. Good luck, dude.

Scott

Gods, gods gods gods . . .

I didn’t know what I was going to say or do when my family got here. I had warded off my panic by showering and cleaning my side of the dorm in the hours between breakfast and now, but that was all done so all I had left was the panic.

So I sat at my altar, letting a candle burn but not saying anything. Frozen with indecision. I didn’t know how I was going to keep Mom’s truth to myself. Shielding or not.

Scotty, we’re parking.

I yelped. It was her voice. It was totally her voice like she was standing next to me. That’s what I sounded like to Nick. I had heard telepath advertisements but they weren’t like this. Personal. Knowingly private.

Mommy.

A sense of guilt from her. I’m so sorry.

How am I supposed to not tell them? How?

How does it change anything to tell?

The defeat that weighed her words stunned me more than the words themselves. I breathed as steadily as I could while I studied the statue of Natalis, the flowers carved around her waist, each petal defined and shaped. So much care and attention to detail.

We’re heading up the stairs.

Natalis, give me strength.

There was a knock on my door, and I jumped. Then I scrambled to my feet and pulled the door open.

Shield, shield. Dad couldn’t hear my thoughts. Kat couldn’t hear my thoughts. Mom . . . no, I didn’t want her hearing my thoughts either. Dad came through first, eyeing me in a way that made my skin crawl. Like he was almost afraid of me. Red bricks, red bricks, he can’t hear what I’m thinking. Mom and Kat followed, and I retreated to lean against my bed frame.

“Is it true?” Dad asked.

I shakily huffed out a breath. I think so?

Kat gasped, her expression mouth-hanging awe. Dad kept a level stare. Mom stepped up to me and pulled me close. I buried my face against her shoulder but pictured my red bricks.

I never thought I’d do this, she thought, as she released me then took something wrapped in paper out of her purse. But all these years I kept it just in case.

“This is for you, baby.”

I took the proffered object and unwrapped it carefully.

“Your telepathy is a gift,” she continued, as I revealed a statue of a sitting panther carved from quartz that had shiny black running through it. “I’m so excited for your journey with Laesth.”

Dad glanced at Mom. “The gods sure did take their time.”

“About ten percent of eccentrics get their magic after eighteen,” I explained as I set the statue on my altar. Nick had been right: I was still within two standard deviations. “One woman got hers on her thirtieth birthday.”

“That’s beyond the point,” Dad said, crossing his arms over a soccer jersey. “I now have an eccentric as a son, and to the gods, I want to know how that’s possible.”

“Not in front of the kids,” Mom muttered, and Dad huffed.

“I want a good reason, Maddy. A good reason not to suspect the worst.” To suspect I wasn’t his son. The thought made my stomach churn.

Mom shook her head, bleached blonde hair quivering. “And I’m telling you, faith will help us through this. It has always helped us.”

Why aren’t you denying what he’s insinuating? I shot at Mom, but she didn’t react.

Dad stepped past me and scrutinized my altar. He picked up the new panther, turned it over, and put it back. “I’ve never even prayed to Laesth.”

“He’s been giving me calming thoughts since I started praying to him,” Mom said. “He knows we can get through this, as a family. Together.”

I stole a glance at Kat, who was hanging back against the wall, her phone in her hand but her eyes on us. Are you okay?

She flinched hard and stared at me wide-eyed.

“My faith is being tested. All our faiths are being tested. Faith in the gods, faith in our family. Faith in ourselves.” Dad’s voice was loud but shaky now. “I want to rise on the other side of this stronger. But right now, I don’t see the path there.”

Mom stepped toward him. “The path is prayer, the path is us together, the path is—”

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” he snapped back.

“Not. In front. Of the kids,” she practically hissed, and I feared that they were going to start yelling.

Is this how bad it’s been? I asked Kat. She heaved a breath and nodded.

“Maybe . . . we should go on a walk,” I suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” Mom said, adjusting her purse strap and already turning to the door.

“Fine. But—” Dad started, and he then clapped my shoulder. “I think we got a little off track, here. Scott. How is college?”

Now that was a useful distraction. I told them about my classes and the treks I had to make between buildings in cold morning fog as I led them out of the dorms and west to the paths around the lake. This particular day was warming up, the sun already breaking through the clouds. It was a relief to be talking about my schoolwork, the campus, the dining commons.

“Also, I’ve made some friends,” I said, and Mom and Dad’s nods of approval were almost enough for me to pretend nothing was wrong.

“Other divinity majors?” Mom asked.

We had reached the lake and started around it, trees and reeds and the surface of the lake slowly gaining color as the sun came out. “Ah, no. Nick is undeclared but taking classes for science and humanities. Chase is chemistry, Lucas is nutrition science. They’re Mark’s friends.”

Dad hummed. “Any new boyfriends?”

Kat giggled as I stammered. “Gods, Dad!”

“It sounds like school is treating you well,” Mom summarized, but school only counted for so much when I didn’t know who I was anymore or what I was capable of.

We reached a fork in the path, and Mom gestured for Kat and me to go mind ourselves, like she usually did, and like I had been betting on. Mom and Dad started on a path past large evergreen bushes, and Kat and I continued along a path closer to the lake. She ran ahead of me toward a stretch/exercise station and was hanging from a high bar by the time I reached her.

I kicked the tanbark at my feet and watched Mom and Dad walk across a field of windblown grasses. Not hand in hand. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“You didn’t cause your magic,” she declared, dropping from the high bar then climbing onto a waist-height one.

“No, but I didn’t have to tell everyone, not immediately anyhow.”

Kat shook her head and flipped upside down on the bar, revealing a layer of pink hair underneath her natural brown bob. “No way. You’re supposed to share your magic. That’s the whole point.”

“I guess?”

She flipped her legs over her head and landed squarely on her feet. “What are you going to do with it?”

I blinked. With my telepathy?

She stood up straight and scrunched her nose. “Duh. Also, that’s totally freaking me out.”

You mean this? I raised an eyebrow, and she shuddered. Is it annoying you? Is it? Is it?

“To the gods, Scotty!” Kat leapt out of the tanbark pit around the bars and jogged down the path.

“Turns out it’s great to terrorize sisters with,” I laughed. Though, her question had been serious, and would eventually require a serious answer. Kat stopped and scanned the lake, her brown ankle boots kicking dirt, and it struck me how old she was. Almost sixteen, and a sophomore now.

I caught up with her, and she stuck out her tongue. “You don’t know what I’m thinking, do you?”

I shook my head.

“Will that come in later?” she asked, shoving my arm.

I shrugged. “I’ll have to ask Nick if that’s a possibility.”

“You say ‘Nick,’ and I hear ‘my boyfriend.’”

My eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing.

“I was kidding!”

I’m hoping he might become my boyfriend. I stared at my knees and imagined his smile.

“Glasses?” she asked.

Oh man, I needed to keep working on my shielding. “Did I accidentally send a mental picture of him?”

She frowned. “It was kind of like I knew who you were talking about, like I’ve met him before. Glasses, a little chubby. I can’t tell if he’s Asian or . . . I’m not sure.”

“That’s him.” I pictured the red bricks and breathed.

“Weird.” She smiled. “And pretty cool.”

She looked past me, and I followed her gaze. Mom and Dad were still walking down the other path, Mom a few paces ahead with her arms crossed.

Are you okay? I asked her.

I’m fine, Scotty. I could tell it was a lie. And don’t forget how much I love you.

“Do you think I’ll get telepathy too?” Kat asked. “It’s totally rare for magic to skip this many generations. I looked it up. But maybe Mom and Dad hit the jackpot with both of us. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“Yeah, that would.” I sighed. “I dunno if you will, though.”

With Mom actually being a telepath, it wouldn’t be nearly as rare as Kat thought. Mom definitely wouldn’t be able to hide it then. My gut clenched trying to put into perspective that Mom had hid it this long, and lied for this long. I didn’t like her lying at all. It was wrong and so much damage was being done. Even if she told Dad the truth, how would he take it now?

Mom wasn’t following the Collections as much as I would have expected her to. Honesty, bravery, respect . . . all were being ignored here. If she wasn’t praying for the strength to tell the truth, what was she praying for?

I wanted to do something. But the thought of me telling Dad was weird and painful. It wasn’t my truth to tell. But it was my future, and Kat’s future, being affected. If Mom wasn’t confident in herself to share her truth, who or what could help her? The gods? Me?

Maybe she needed to take her own advice, and pray.