We ended up ordering pizzas. The leftovers I had in the fridge would only feed one or two people, and only if they ate meat. I knew of a good vegetarian pizza joint that delivered and while Diedre took care of the ordering, I sorted out where everyone was going to sleep.
“We’re not taking your bedroom, Michael,” Jamie protested, when she realized what I intended.
“It’s the only full-sized bed in the house,” I told her. “Take it, or you’ll both be putting two other people out of beds, while I sleep in a bed that two might use. There’s five bedrooms, counting the two in the attic, which means everyone can actually have a bed and no one needs to sleep on the floor.”
“After three days of driving, a horizontal mattress sounds fantastic,” Magorian said firmly. He held out his hand. “But I’ve been making my own bed since I was six.”
I dropped the clean sheets into his hands, and went to show the others which bedrooms they could use.
Tony and Euclides shared the biggest of the remaining rooms, which had twin beds, while Diedre glowed at the sight of the classically styled dormer window in the attic room and pronounced it hers. Ketill took the room across from Diedre, and frowned at the industrial carpet beneath his bare feet. “Ain’t dirt, is it?” he quipped and dropped his backpack on the unmade bed.
None of the beds had sheets, but there had been plenty of blankets and sleeping bags in the van that would see them through tonight. I’d have to take care of bedding tomorrow.
The distribution of rooms left me with the smallest bedroom. I put my personal items on the tiny shelf next to the narrow bed, and sat on the bed to write an email on my phone to the clinic director, to let her know I wouldn’t be in tomorrow.
By then, the pizzas had arrived, and Diedre shouted to let us know dinner was here. Her shout was like a well-trained choir raising their voices.
We sat around the table and ate. The table was made for six people, and there were seven of us, so Tony, the youngest, sat cross-legged on the counter right next to the table, and Euclides handed him slices of pizza. In between eating at a rapid pace, everyone talked. It felt exactly like the conversations around the big dinner table in Toledo, while the cramped kitchen and all-white décor kept reminding me, we were a long way from there.
There was a lot of news from Spain that hadn’t made its way into the few emails I’d received.
Thamina, a salamander, was still Magorian’s cook. She had stayed behind to watch over Delta, a dryad and Ketill’s youngest, and Angelica, his next youngest, and the last human in his family.
Thamina had learned sign language and was the only one left in the house that was fluent with it, which gave Delta a means of communicating with others. Delta had become deaf from the high fever that transitioning produced.
Thamina was also watching Ewan, Jamie’s four-year-old water leaper son, and Fabricio’s little sister, who had arrived from Italy as both an orphan and an angel. Fabricio was back working in the hospital, once more.
Thamina had taken the children into the forest to live while the rest of the household was away.
“There are other orphans that the forest takes care of,” Jamie said. “Aurelius’ son, Mele, the little dryad, is one of them. And Peader is teaching them each morning.”
“He is?” I asked, delighted that Jamie’s uncle had found a solid place amongst the Old Ones. “He was a history professor at the university. He doesn’t terrorize the children?”
“Actually, he’s pretty damn good at it,” Ketill said. “Delta sits in to listen sometimes, and she likes him as a teacher.”
Delta had discerning tastes. If she liked Peader, it was a good sign.
It was a relaxing and convivial meal, but I could see that the younger ones were wilting. Even Ketill looked a little grey. Ketill kept his family on a nocturnal schedule to match his biological requirements, so that he could care for them, but both they and the diurnals—Jamie and Magorian—would have slept badly on the road.
“Is it worth forcing yourself to stay up until morning?” I asked Ketill quietly. “So you can get back on schedule?”
Ketill shook his head. “Way I feel, I think I’m probably gonna sleep through until sunset tomorrow. I’ll try for that, at least.” He glanced at his kids. “You should, too.”
They nodded, too exhausted to argue. Food, warmth and a bit of laughter had relaxed them enough for sleep to pull at them.
They all trooped upstairs, leaving Jamie and Magorian at the table.
Then even Jamie stood up. “Sleep is a very good idea,” she confessed.
Magorian looked up at her. “Tomorrow, can you breathe on them, to make them sleep longer?”
“It’s not as good as singing them to sleep.”
“It works for me,” Magorian pointed out.
I cut my gaze away from them, over to the kitchen sink and the dishes piled there.
“I’ll certainly try,” Jamie replied. She paused.
That pulled my attention back to them. Jamie was simply looking at Magorian.
Magorian nodded. “In a minute.”
I tried not to feel resentment that they had reached that stage in their relationship where they could guess what the other was thinking.
“Good night, Michael,” Jamie said quietly and left.
Magorian picked up the last slice of pepperoni pizza, which Diedre had ordered just for him. I’d stolen a piece or two myself and knew it was good. He bit and chewed.
“It’s later,” I pointed out. “You said you’d explain more, later.”
“I’m thinking we should save it for even later. Tomorrow and daylight.” He continued eating.
He’d promised he’d go upstairs in a minute, too.
“I keep coming back to something.” I was changing the subject—in my head, at least. “How did Aurelius know the gold shield was the wrong one?”
Magorian gave me a tired smile. “That’s the question that got me here.”