Gayle burst into laughter, covering her mouth. “Mr. Parnassus!”
He winked at her. “Sometimes, certain words show exactly how we feel. So long as there are no little ears listening in, I might as well let it out every now and then.”
Billy shouted from somewhere down the path, and Gayle said goodbye before hurrying after her son and Alice. Arthur waited until she rounded the corner before continuing on.
He found the queen in her clearing, white petals falling from the flowering trees around her home, coating the ground like snow. She sat on an old tree stump, wings bright behind her. Sitting on the thick grass at her feet, a group of new arrivals: three adults and two children, all of whom were væters, beings who communed with nature on a level even beyond Phee and Talia and Zoe. All were small—the tallest of them, the grandfather, was barely half Arthur’s size. The children were only a foot high, their eyes twice as large as a human’s. One of the children—a girl called Frida—heard Arthur’s approach, and touched the forest floor, followed by a low pulse of magic that felt like summer. The white petals swirled around him as if caught in a slow tornado.
Zoe stood, taking the elder væter’s hand in hers. “Thank you for your counsel. It’s wonderful to have confirmation that the land is happy. Please let me know if that changes at any point, and we’ll work together to set things right. Now, if you’ll follow the path, the trees will guide you to my representative. Martin has your belongings, and will show you to your new home. Anything you need, ask, and he’ll make it happen.”
The grandfather bowed before the queen, and then led his family down another path that led to the center of the island.
“How is it going?” Arthur asked as Zoe waved her hand, the stump rolling through her open doorway.
“It’s going,” she muttered. “My people skills need work. My grandmother told me once that being a queen often meant listening without interrupting. She said you could learn more that way.” She huffed out an irritated breath. “It’s hard not to interject, especially when I hear everything they went through.”
Arthur cocked his head. “I expect many of them are simply looking for a sympathetic ear. It’s probably the first time anyone has listened to them.”
Zoe waved him off. “I know, it’s just…” She sighed. “It’s not going to get easier, is it?”
“No, I expect not. But the stories we’re given, these tales of tragedy and hope, the trust placed upon us to listen to each and every word, it’s humbling to be their secret keepers. We hold them here”—he rested his hand over his heart—“and here.” He tapped the side of his head.
“How many so far?” she asked, staring off into the woods, white flower petals landing in her hair.
“How many have come to the island? With the væters, we’re now up to eighty-four, the majority of whom are magical, including thirty-two children under the age of eighteen.”
Zoe snorted. “And how are the classes?”
“Exuberant,” Arthur said. “We’ve been lucky enough to have three teachers among the adults who’ve come here. They’re working with Linus to come up with lesson plans that will ensure every child gets a proper education.”
“And there will be more,” Zoe said. “If it keeps going like it is, we’re going to run out of room at some point.”
“I know,” Arthur said. “But I won’t turn people away. We’ll figure it out.” Then, because he could, he added, “Your majesty.”
She made a face. “Keep it up, Parnassus. Being the Sprite of Oceans has allowed me to tap into power I never had before. You don’t want to piss me off.”
He grinned. “Noted, dear. Now, on to the reason I’m here. I’ve been told that I’m not allowed anywhere near the south end of the peninsula. If I attempt to arrive before my time, seven children have promised that my death will be neither pleasant nor swift.”
“Lucy?”
“David,” Arthur said. “I was very proud to hear such a threat from him. It shows he’s adapting quite well.”
“I heard David accidentally called Linus Papa last week.”
“He did. Right in the middle of supper. Linus burst into tears and scooped David up, and that is now the picture that has completed Linus’s birt present. The other children made the frame, and David hung it up himself. Plenty of ice cubes all around after that.”
“Good,” Zoe said. “I bet he’s calling you both Dad and Papa by the holidays.”
“The greatest gift,” Arthur agreed. “But there is no rush. At least not today.”
“Oh?” Zoe asked, blinking innocently. “Is there something else going on today that I should know of?” She tapped her chin. “I can’t think of a single thing that—”
He hugged her close, face in her hair. She laughed brightly, wrapping her arms around him, nose at his throat. “Is this real?” he whispered.
“It is,” she whispered back fiercely. “Everything. All of it. Today, tomorrow, and every day after.”
“I dreamed of such a day,” he told her as flower petals danced around them. “And now that it’s here, I…” He chuckled. “I’m a little nervous, if I’m being honest. More than a little.”
Zoe pulled away, gripping his forearms. “Scared?”
He shook his head. “Of this? Never.”
“He’s with Helen?”
“He is. Told me in no uncertain terms that it was bad luck to see him before the ceremony.”
“Kicked you out of your own house, did he?” Zoe asked, amused. “Already started.”
“It has,” Arthur said. “And I, for one, cannot wait.”
“Then it’s time to see what your children picked out for you to wear.” She pulled him toward her house. “They wanted my input, but I told them that this was from them, and they should do whatever they thought was right. Prepare to be … well. You’ll see.”
“That certainly sounds ominous,” Arthur said. “Consider me intrigued.”
If one had decided to come to the village of Marsyas on that very day, they would have found a ghost town: no one sold food from mobile carts, no music poured from open doorways that led into shops. Even Rock & Soul, the local record store, had closed for the day, which was odd, seeing as how the proprietor—one Mr. J-Bone—tended to arrive early and didn’t leave until late at night. It helped that his home was located right above his shop.
There were people on the sidewalks, but they were few and far between, most of them looking a little spooked given how quiet it was. Every now and then, they’d stop in front of signs that covered the main thoroughfare in the village: on windows and doorways and telephone poles. Short and to the point, the signs read: GONE TO CELEBRATE! RETURN TOMORROW!
“Celebrate?” they murmured to themselves. “What could an entire village be celebrating?”
