David stepped away from Linus, dropping his hand. He approached the children, looking up when Theodore’s shadow blocked the sun for a brief moment, the wyvern landing once more on Sal’s shoulder.
“You’ve been waiting to meet me?” David asked, stopping a few feet away.
“Yep,” Chauncey said. “We’ve never met a yeti before. I knew you’d be tall! Also? I really like your hair.”
“Thanks,” David said, tugging a thick strand. “It can get heavy if it’s not taken care of.”
“We got you,” Sal said. “Zoe does special stuff for my hair, so I bet we can figure yours out too.”
Talia stroked her beard. “And I have oils that’ll make it soft if you want. There, now that that’s out of the way, on to something just as important. Presents.”
“Talia,” Arthur said. “Would you like to try that again?”
She sighed. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
“How are you?”
“Better now.”
“Me too,” she said. “Now, about those presents.”
“In due time,” Arthur said. “First, we have a guest, and we are not rude to guests.”
She arched an eyebrow, tugging the end of her beard. “Can we take David inside and show him the house? Notice how I’m being polite and welcoming and not asking about presents again. Isn’t that nice of me?”
“You are a saint,” Arthur said. “If that’s all right with David, you may. Save the surprise until after we’ve all come in.”
“Surprise?” David asked, looking around wildly. “What surprise?”
“Can I touch your arm?” Chauncey asked.
David flinched. “What?”
“I want to grab your arm and lead you where to go,” Chauncey explained. “But some people don’t like that.”
“Oh,” David said. “I … guess?”
A lime-green tentacle snaked around David’s wrist, Chauncey tugging him up the steps, the rest of the children hurrying after them. “Come on! We’ll show you where we hide things we don’t want Linus or Arthur to know about!”
“Upstairs hall closet with the secret cubby hole in the back?” Linus asked Arthur after the children disappeared inside the house.
“Either that or the one box in the attic they think they’re so secretive about.”
“They’re not very subtle, are they?”
“And so focused on a new guest that we don’t even merit a hug? Your children need to learn their manners.”
“Oh, they’re my children when you don’t get a hug, but as soon as one of them threatens disembowelment, you’re pleased as punch.”
“What are you two nattering on about?” Zoe asked, appearing in front of them with her arm through Helen’s. They took turns kissing each other’s cheeks. “Seemed serious.” Then, without waiting for an answer, she said, “What’s that on your finger?”
Helen said, “His finger? Did he hurt— What.”
Arthur held up his hand, the ring snug, weighted, a presence he could not deny. “Oh, this? I barely remembered it was even there.”
“Liar,” Linus mumbled as he blushed.
“You didn’t,” Zoe said with an uncharacteristic squeal. She rushed forward, snatching Arthur’s hand and bringing the ring an inch from her face. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were watery. She glanced from Arthur to Linus then back again. “Is this real?”
“It is,” Linus said. “It may seem a bit fast, but—”
“Silly man,” Helen said, her hands clasped under her chin, her smile so wide Arthur was surprised her face hadn’t split in half. “There’s no such thing as ‘a bit fast’ when you know it’s right.” She slapped Linus playfully on the arm. “You sneak. Why did you—”
“We have a problem. I think.”
They all turned toward the house. Phee stood on the porch, a funny expression on her face.
Arthur took a step toward her. “What is it?”
Phee shrugged. “Did you know that yetis and cats are mortal enemies?”
Calliope stood on the bottom step that led to the second floor, back arched, hair standing on end from tip to tail, which extended in a rigid line behind her. Eyes narrowed, hissing as loudly as a leaking steampipe, Calliope tracked the movement of the yeti standing before her.
Said yeti growled in response, claws extended as he paced back and forth. His lips rippled with every snarl, pulled back over his fearsome fangs. Toenails clicking on the floor, David paced back and forth, never looking away from Calliope.
The others stood off to the side, gazes bouncing between the cat and the yeti. Lucy was near the front, watching with great interest. “I wouldn’t try and pet her if I were you,” he said with far too much glee. “She’ll probably rip your throat out.”
