by D. R. Perry
"I can't wait to see your children, waving with their little claws."
The mother karkinos clacked in response, saying it'd be a relief to have the weight on her back for a change.
"Good morning, Logan." Bubbe grinned.
"Hi, Bubbe." I smiled back while looking at the crustacean instead of her, which she'd never complained about. "Are you coming upstairs for breakfast?"
"In a while." Which meant she wasn't.
"Can I bring anything down for you?"
"You're so thoughtful, Logan. Some toast and marmalade if they've any to spare. Thank you."
"See you later." I waved at them both.
Every morning since I started staying here, she always gave me a kind word. The first two weeks, I'd been a wreck over it that she'd go out of her way to drop a compliment. I discovered it wasn't extra, only how the Morgensterns did things. Still awkward, but way better than my family's exacting demands.
Upstairs it was the same. Aliyah and her parents passed words of love and gratitude along with dishes of food, like sentiment was something sweet to sprinkle over life in general. I sat at the table, giving and receiving in the space they made for me. If only it could be like this forever. Someday, I'd have to move on even if I'd left Las Vegas for good. College. Extraveterinary school. Those places might be more like home than here. That scared me, almost enough to make me give up on my dream.
Then Aliyah smiled at me.
I grinned back and blinked. Not because her expression surprised me. All her smiles were like sunrises. Different every time but beautiful. Other guys at school called Aliyah Morgenstern pretty, and they had a point. That kind of thing wasn't important to me, though. The best thing about her was her heart. It was like the ocean, vast and powerful, a force of nature. She cared. Noah said too much, but there's no such thing. Caring is like oxygen. Everyone needs it, and it's a catalyst that lets amazing things happen.
By the time I remembered them, my eggs and toast were cold. Mr. Morgenstern put my plate in the oven, which he always kept warm during breakfast.
"It's too easy for some of us to get distracted," he explained. He'd been talking about Aliyah's mom, but that habit he got into for her helped me too.
"Speaking of distraction." Aliyah rinsed her plate in the sink. "I totally forgot yesterday to mention it. That book we ordered on interlibrary loan came in. We should go to campus and have a look."
"Right." I nodded. "That's the book we can't take off-campus. Maybe you don't want to spend half the day in the library."
"We're going out tonight. Plenty of excitement there." She put the plate in the dishwasher, then dried her hands. "I'm game if you are. Besides, who doesn't want to read the musings of medieval dragons?"
"Hmm. Probably Bailey Overton. She always says dragons are so last week."
Although she'd proved me wrong for over two years, I winced, expecting a reprimand for answering a question I only realized was rhetorical after the fact. But she smiled at me, followed up by a hug this time. I hugged back. Over her shoulder, I had a perfect view of her parents, framed by the doorway into the living room. Their relationship looked like a classic romance; something Aliyah probably wanted in her life someday.
Although we'd kissed three more times after the masquerade ball, the way I felt about her hadn't gotten any different. There wasn't a rush of blood away from the head like Eston described when he and Kitty had alone time. I didn't get all tingly like Hal said happened with him and Faith. I was comfortable with her, pleasantly warm like being under a blanket on an autumn afternoon before the heat kicked in. Or like the swimming pool at the penthouse in Vegas, bathwater temperature. That's the way it was since the first Parent's Night. Something everyone else I knew described as platonic.
I loved her more than I ever thought possible, but like almost everything else about me, the way I loved wasn't how everybody else did it.
Aliyah deserved a conversation about that, but we had to go to the library first. I headed out the door she held for me and started down the stairs.
"You need some shoes, Logan. Oh, and we need to grab Bubbe’s toast and marmalade."
"Oh yeah, forgot." I chuckled, then went back up.
"Are you sure?" Aliyah gestured at the lexicon. "It's such a pain to translate those."
"It might be painful, but I've got my routine for it." I patted the cover. "I'll handle good old Ludovico's journals while you get our drinks. I mean, it's not like I've got to duel an actual green dragon or something."
"There's no way I'd leave you in actual danger, Logan." She planted a kiss on the top of my head. "You know that, right?"
I nodded. She headed out to get tea, which the Ashfords allowed in their library over breaks and exam weeks. Moments later, I got lost in a puzzle of Old Germanic. Languages were a special interest for me, and I'd discovered that dragon shifters also were by extension because most of them were polyglots, like the dragonets.
Most people wouldn't have realized that, but since I understood magical creatures, I had. Each species had its articulate way of communicating, along with a sort of common parlance conveyed physically. The entire idea of studying, possibly even classifying and recording these languages, fascinated me. So did each of Ludovico's tomes. However, we'd only been able to check them out one at a time from the Black Forest University library, and it took weeks to ship them over.
I went tharn to the rest of the world while translating. Tharn was an awesome word, as in awe-inspiring for real. I'd always imagined Richard Adams, the man who wrote Watership Down, was an extrahuman with an ability like mine, and that he'd chronicled the folklore and history of actual rabbits. Or maybe even moon hares. That made sense with all the Frith and Inle stories anyway.
Usually when I waxed oblivious in here like that, Aliyah kept watch. She said it was to make sure I didn't get interrupted, but it probably had something to do with my dad and his cruel friends. Fortunately, they didn't show up that day. Instead, someone else did.
"That's some heavy reading, young sir." The voice was low but musical, sort of sing-song. It reminded me of my old kindergarten teacher. I felt so comfortable listening to it that I didn't feel the need to look up.
"Uh, yeah. But it's pretty amazing." I didn't look up, merely pointed at the phrase I'd just translated. "Ludovico the Green was obsessed with extramagi. I don't blame him. He found out they have extra abilities, not only their elements. This part mentions dragonets. Did you know they almost went extinct during the Reveal? Ludovico thinks they're significant to extramagi. I haven't finished translating yet, but it looks super interesting."
"I suppose it's hard to compete with unearthing ancient history." A deep beige hand with rounded pearly fingernails set a much newer book beside the Old Germanic lexicon. "However, you should have a look through this. It's no less significant although much more recent."
I only intended to glance at the glossy cover, but the photo of a young woman with a mercat on the cover hooked me. I read the words above and below it.
"It's a yearbook. From Hawthorn. In my Dad's first year?"
"Take care, young sir. I'm not as benign as I seem."
Doris pressed her head against my hand. “No more questions. She’s Fae.”
Now I looked up. The woman reminded me of someone. I wasn't sure who. Forgetting faces was a weakness of mine, so maybe I'd seen her before. One look at her clothing told me no. She wore a robe. Not the kind people put on before and after a bath or even ones folks graduate in. A caftan. It was long and deep mauve with yellow paisley print. Mirrors decorated the neckline, sleeves, and hem. Grace would have gone nuts over this woman's clothes because they looked both vintage and magical.
"Do you not know who this is?" One of those rounded fingernails underlined the picture.
I shook my head, then turned back to my translation work.
"Do yourself a favor and check the yearbook out before you leave."
All of a sudden, it was too much. Her unexpected presenc
e. The interruption. The mirrors flashing on her sleeves. Was she even allowed on campus? What if she worked for my father? She'd said right out that she wasn’t what she seemed.
"You know, I didn't get your name." I looked up. Her face wasn't as young as I'd originally thought, forehead and the bridge of her nose etched with lines. Not the kind that came from smiling, either.
"Mila."
"There's aren't any Milas on the staff here."
"There were, once upon a time." She caressed the cover of the book, then pulled her hand away.
My mind parsed all the possibilities in an instant. She couldn't be a ghost. They couldn't come on campus and without a medium present, couldn't move books. And Doris said she was Fae. She didn't belong here, and adult guests weren’t allowed without a legal or blood relation to a student. The Hawkins family saw to that with their space magic. So, there were only two possibilities.
Mila was related to a student. One currently present on campus. Or she was the djinn Aliyah and I had been looking for all semester. If the second was true, so was the first. Could Mila be short for Gamila, as in Haddad-Hawkins, maker of the stained glass mural? I couldn't ask because she was a full-fledged faerie and I'd naively asked her two questions already. I'd end up owing her a favor. I had to do something to get more of a clue. Or maybe let on that I wasn't entirely clueless.
The library's door opened.
"Please, I'm out of time. The yearbook is important."
"I wish I could take your word for it."
She flinched, confirming my theory. I turned my head, looking for Aliyah, hoping she could make sense of Mila's sudden presence. Instead, it was Faith walking toward me, not her.
"I'm making Aliyah take a lunch break, with solid food. You too, so come on." She stuck a scrap of paper in the lexicon, then pulled the ribbon over Ludovico's journal.
"Wait, I was talking to—"
When I looked up, my visitor had gone. My stomach rumbled like it was the underside of a thunderhead.
I went along with Faith and checked the old yearbook out of the library on the way.
Lunch was chicken nuggets with applesauce and mashed potatoes. Childish, people say. Comfort food, actually. Texture and flavor always as expected, without surprises. No matter where or how those three foods get prepared, they're universal. Like Swedish meatballs, but easier to find. I'd already had enough excitement for the morning and a new experience planned for later on. The last thing I wanted was an embarrassing stimming episode, like the night of my birthday. Or worse, a meltdown.
My friends cared. Hal did the right thing always, and I trusted Faith with my life. Those two were fierce and fair, and wouldn't ever hurt me on purpose. Grace went out of her way to include me, even when I couldn't keep up. They didn't understand all of it though. Not like Aliyah. That's why I pretended not to notice Grace's nudge and Faith's raised eyebrow. And why I answered Hal with a little white lie.
"You deserve a better lunch than that, Logan. Want me to ask Penelope what else she's got?"
"Translation fried my brain. It's all I could think of." I gestured at my plate. "Anyway, I'm almost full. Thanks for asking, though."
"So, Grace. Why aren't you at Azrael's?" Aliyah sipped chicken soup from a mug.
"Brought you all something." She grinned.
"Clothes." Hal grinned at Faith. "I bet anyone a cookie." He pointed at the last chocolate chip on the dessert plate.
"Sorry, Hal." Grace shrugged. "Textiles, but not technically garments.”
I looked up, my jaw dropping with my eureka moment.
"Blankets!"
Grace pushed the plate toward me. I shook my head at the spoils. Hal shrugged, then gave the cookie to Faith, who broke it into pieces and shared it around to the familiars.
Nin fiddled with her hunk of cookie, trying to get Hal's attention. She had a point. Hal had thinned out a little during his summer growth spurt, but he hadn't ever looked this gaunt. I could see his cheekbones, and his temples had hollows. I crossed my fingers under the table, hoping it was five-o'clock shadow and a recent haircut. He'd started shaving this summer, too. Maybe it was good old rising testosterone and not magiglobular anemia trying to kill him.
Lune turned his nose up at it, insisting he was strictly vegan, then dropped it at Aliyah's feet. Seth and Doris gave their pieces to Ember.
"I wonder why he did that." Faith shook her head. "He never turns down a treat."
I blinked and stood, hearing the animals chatter.
"You guys, she's expecting!"
"No way!" Grace put her hands on her cheeks. "Did you know, Aliyah?"
"Um, well, I knew she'd mated. During exam week." She blushed.
Grace dropped me a wink. Now it was my turn to blush because I understood on an intellectual level what she thought. A familiar's emotions carried over through their bonds. It wasn't uncommon for magi with familiars to get amorous at the same time as a mating familiar. However, I knew for sure that wasn't the case with Aliyah because I'd been with her every night of exam week and we hadn't done anything but typical cuddling. Mostly, she'd been exhausted. Then there was me.
"I'm asexual."
I slapped one hand over my mouth and the other on the table. I was suddenly in my worst nightmare. The one where I did end up falling off that cliff in Tibet. My friends all sat staring in silence that stretched like Nevada afternoon shadows until one of them cleared her throat and broke it.
"What, like a sea sponge?"
"Grace!" Instead of rolling her eyes, Faith widened them. "Uncool. It's an orientation, like being bi or gay."
"Sorry." She hung her head. "I know. I meant it as a joke. It didn't come out right."
"Well, neither did I." I sighed.
"Hey, are you okay?"
There Aliyah Morgenstern went again. Caring about the aftermath of my inevitable blurt instead of however she must feel about it.
"Well, that depends. I mean, are you?" I looked up at the shallow bowl of her perpetual slight smile, unable to meet her eyes. "I understand if you want to stop dating."
"That's our cue, I think." Hal wobbled a little as he rose from his seat.
"No, you can stay." Aliyah put her other hand out. "I'm fine, Logan. Relieved." She drew a big breath. "Pretty sure I am too. Asexual, I mean."
I sat blinking at her, breathless. Was this happening right now, in the cafeteria? Coming out to my friends after keeping it secret for a whole year why it hadn't worked out with Dorian? Had I truly gotten entangled with a person who felt the same way I did? My father said that I'd spend my life settling because water wasn't flashy enough to be more than an opening act. Because I was too picky. Because I didn't ogle women or men. Because I was different. Which meant unlovable.
Doctor Morgenstern and her family, especially Aliyah, proved every day that those hadn't been facts, only my father's opinions. Here was more. All my friends sat quietly, giving me time to respond. Although I was slow with this, they didn't seem to mind. Aliyah took my hand. I looked up into her eyes for the few breaths I could manage. I had no idea what to say to her but opened my mouth anyway.
"Thanks for coming out with me." I squeezed her hand. She let go, then held her arms out. I nodded, and we hugged.
Everybody laughed, even the familiars. But with me, not at.
Lunch was over after that. Hal and Faith went back upstairs. Aliyah and I promised to bring the blankets to them after finishing up in the library. Grace left campus. I put my bag over my shoulder, remembering why it was heavy—the yearbook. I'd missed the chance to talk to everyone about it. But not Aliyah. I filled her in on our way back down the hall.
"I agree." She nodded. "You saw Gamila Haddad-Hawkins. Which is pretty amazing."
"I feel bad though. Don't really have time to look into that yearbook with all the translating."
"I'll do it."
After we sat, I handed it over to her. Aliyah didn't even open the cover.
"This girl could have been a supermodel. She
looks almost exactly like you."
"I don't see it." I winced. "Sorry."
"That's okay. I'll figure this out."
She pulled a notebook out of her knapsack and started flipping through glossy pages. I stuck to my alternately pulpy and oily ones. The lexicon was my bargain bin purchase from Wicked Good Books on Essex Street. The interlibrary loan copies of Ludovico's journals were so old they were on genuine parchment.
At some point, Aliyah put the pen down and sat back in her seat. I kept on working. We only had until the Ashfords closed the library and the stuff I'd discovered was essential. The old green dragon had started experimenting with blood. His methods were far from modern in a scientific sense but the magical methods tracked with much of common practice today. I’d be showing all of it to Bubbe as soon as possible.
"I'm sorry Mr. Pierce, Miss Morgenstern." Mr. Ashford bowed his head at each of us in turn, steely blue hair brushing both sides of his cheeks. "That's all the time for today."
I packed up my lexicon and notes, then headed toward the desk to hand the journal to Mrs. Ashford, who checked it back in. When I got back to the table, Aliyah had opened the yearbook to the page showing the name, quote, and plans of the young woman from the cover. Her name was Petra, but Aliyah's finger blocked her last name.
"I know what it says here, Mr. Ashford. What happened to her? Because I know for a fact she's not who this yearbook says she'd be."
"Sadly, it's not my story to tell. Perhaps Mr. Gauthier would take such liberties. Or Mr. Pierce."
I shuddered, fighting the urge to turn and leave.
"I've tried the former. The latter, I don't trust." Aliyah's lips twisted into the grin she always put on before a big Bishop's Row game. Her game face. The mask of defiance. "I'll find a way. Thanks, Mr. Ashford."
On the way out, we stopped in the Creatives room, where the lights were out. They didn't come on, so Aliyah conjured some. Grace's blankets were inside the textiles cabinet on the far wall. After retrieving them, we started toward the doors again. I reached to open them, but she stopped me. A moment later, I heard voices—my father's.
