Jamie grinned and shrugged, turning to show the infant riding in some contraption on his back. “The munchkin likes this one. Apparently all girls come programmed to prefer gaudy colors.”
Ha. The gypsy costume long predated Jamie’s little girl. “I’m busy.”
“So I see.” Jamie eyed the spellcubes in Marcus’s hands. “Who are you listening in on?”
Marcus sighed and tossed the eavesdroppers back in his rucksack. The darned things were easy to build and bloody difficult to deploy, thanks to their highly recognizable spellshape. “No one.”
The gypsy squinted out into the street, empty except for a quiet little librarian-and grinned. “It’s about time someone started paying attention to him.”
They watched as Kevin’s primary game avatar walked down the street, touching the walls of each building and muttering. All while reading out of the old book in his hand.
The old book that radiated magic.
Marcus frowned. It took a lot of game points to bring magical objects into the highest level. “What’s that thing do?”
“Dunno.” Jamie shrugged, eyes intently curious. “Never seen it before.”
Marcus snorted-magical objects didn’t just pop into Realm fully formed. Carefully, he pulled a spellcube back out of his sack. Mysterious happenings tended to be bad for the level’s top-ranked players. No one ever worried about the lowly librarians until it was too late.
He wondered if Kevin knew he walked in gigantic shoes. The game’s best-ever non-witch player had also preferred a librarian guise.
“He knows.” Jamie grinned. “He’s easily the game’s best historian. Question is, how many of the people in this level remember The Hacker?”
Those who didn’t forgot at their peril. “Kevin doesn’t have Daniel’s coding skills.”
“Nope.” Jamie started the odd dance parents used to soothe fussy babies. Kenna quieted on his back. “But he watches and learns, and he’s dug some very interesting stuff out of the code archives.”
No one in their right mind ventured into the archives-that was where lines of code went to die, much of it material that had never worked properly in the first place. “Is it safe in there?”
“Mostly,” said Jamie wryly. “Activating it is a different story, but so far he’s been very careful.”
Marcus shook his head. “The boy just needs some good coding lessons. No point digging around in the old relics.”
Jamie snickered. “Don’t let Moira hear you say that.”
He had due respect for the past, but unlike most of the denizens of Fisher’s Cove, no desire to live there. Then again, his present had gotten rather inhospitable as well. Marcus sighed. So much for a few moments of mindless escape.
“Sorry.” The gypsy’s eyes were full of purple-hued empathy. “The first few weeks are hard.”
Weeks? He’d barely made it through two days. “I’m not cut out to care for a child.”
“None of us really are.” In a move that resembled Houdini exiting a straitjacket, Jamie slid the contraption holding a very sleepy Kenna around to his front and snugged her in to his chest. “And you didn’t get an easy draw.”
“It appears I have no choice in the matter.” Marcus winced at the whine in his voice.
“Sure you do.” Jamie’s eyes held something a lot steelier now. “And you already made it. You came back.”
It had hardly seemed like a choice.
Jamie brushed at random bricks on the wall. “We have a circle on standby for you, if you need it. The triplets are designing a bat-signal app for your phone.”
It would probably be pink. Marcus resisted the relief trying to creep into his gut. A circle didn’t always work-the mists had unspeakable power.
The gypsy stroked his girl-child’s fuzzy head. “Morgan’s safety lies with all of us, Marcus.”
“It might not be enough.” It could easily not be enough. And thinking that way would only make him crazy. He kicked an errant pebble in the dirt. “I have to go back. She’ll probably be waking up soon.”
Silence.
Marcus looked up-and finally figured out what it was in Jamie’s eyes.
Understanding. And respect.
Nell lowered herself into the hammock, smiling as the sides rose up around her. Her own personal cocoon.
She remembered the day Daniel had strung it for her. Aervyn had been about three months old and porting to random locations in his sleep. While starting fires. She’d been exhausted, running on magical fumes, and terrified for her tiny boy’s safety.
And then her husband had taken her by the hand, led her out to a quiet corner of the back yard, and tucked her into her very own escape pod. There were few moments in her life when she’d loved him more.
A hand, bearing brownies, appeared over the edge of the hammock. “Want company?”
She scootched up to one end-they’d figured out how to get both of them into the escape pod long ago. “You brought chocolate. What broke?” The last time he’d arrived bearing brownies, it had been a follow up to teaching Aervyn the finer points of a knuckleball pitch. The heirloom vase had not been impressed-although as Gramma Retha had pointed out, it had encountered errant baseballs more than once in the past. Being a Sullivan family heirloom was risky business.
Daniel climbed in and handed over the much bigger brownie. “Nothing that I know of. Lull in the storm. Nathan took Aervyn to the park to climb trees, Mia and Shay are coding, and Ginia’s snoring on the living room couch.”
None of her children ever napped in their beds. “Did you remind Aervyn not to port the neighborhood kids again?” Not all mothers greeted the sight of their child twenty feet up a tree with equanimity.
“Yup.” Her husband grinned. “I even did it before I gave him his brownie. Do I get bonus dad points for that?”
Nell chuckled. “Not enough to make up for feeding him brownies an hour before lunch.”
“Says the woman who used to exist on Doritos.” Daniel shook his head in mock disbelief. “I know our marriage vows had lots of stuff about sickness and health and getting old, but nowhere in there did it say anything about you getting all responsible and nutritionally concerned on me.”
She stuck a foot out of the hammock to start them gently swinging. “I’ll give you a pass on the brownies, but I’ve always been responsible.”
He reached for her fingers. “I know.” His eyes held all the reasons why he loved her. “And I’m guessing that a baby girl with purple eyes is bringing back a lot of memories for my very responsible wife.”
She was. “It’s why I came out here, I guess.”
“No child arrives with the promise that they’ll always be safe.”
“I know.” Nell squeezed the hand that had always been there for her. “But with some, the dangers are right in your face.”
“If we let them be.” Daniel picked brownie crumbs off her belly.
“Choose life unafraid.” Nell repeated the three words he’d given her the day Aervyn had entered the world in fire and storm. They’d been her lifeline ever since-even on the days fear pummeled her chest and stole her air.
He nodded. “We do it. Your brother’s doing it.”
“Nat helps.” Nell offered her last crumbles. “She knows how to breathe through fear better than anyone I know.” Her sister-in-law was one very tough cookie-and she kept Jamie’s feet on rock-solid ground.
“Kenna’s a lucky kid.” Her husband’s eyes shadowed some. “I wonder what Morgan’s story is. Maybe she wasn’t so lucky.”
That, they didn’t know-but Nell knew her guy. “A sweetheart with lavender eyes is wrapping you around her little finger, is she?”
“She looks like our girls. Fuzzy hair and big eyes.” His fingers laced in hers again. “And Marcus looks like he’s been hit by a Mack truck.”