She shrugged, looking back at her saplings. “Thinking.”
“Is that right? Sounds serious.” Given that the air was unseasonably cool, he removed his robe and settled it around her shoulders, fussing over her until she slid her arms through the sleeves. “Can I ask what you’re thinking about?”
“Trees,” she said dryly.
“And you felt the need to make them in the middle of the night.”
“Why not?”
“Why not, indeed. Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to watch, if I’m not interrupting.”
Phee nodded and got back to work. They sat in silence, the only sound coming from the low fizzy pop! each time a tree came into existence. The more she made, the stiffer she got, her shoulders near her ears, the corners of her mouth turning down. Though he desperately wanted to ask, he waited. Phee would come to it, in her own time.
And that proved accurate ten minutes later when she set down a new sapling, looked at Arthur, and said, “I would do it again.”
“Do what?”
“Turn people into trees if they try and hurt us.”
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Would you?”
“Yes,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I know that doesn’t make me a good person, but—”
“You are a good person,” Arthur said fiercely. “One of the very best I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Just because you feel a certain way about those who might try to do you harm doesn’t negate any other part of you. If anything, it makes you human.”
She made a face. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Rather be a sprite than a human any day.”
“I thought as much, and I’m glad to hear it. But even if you’re angry, that doesn’t give you the right to hurt other people.”
“Even if they want to hurt us?”
Arthur hesitated, picking and choosing his words carefully. “I would expect you to protect yourself. Or others, if it came down to it. But I would also ask you to think of the repercussions of your actions.” He sighed. “Though, I might not be the best guide in that regard. I doubt Lucy would take too kindly to being told he couldn’t threaten murder on a daily basis, even if he doesn’t do anything about it.”
Phee snorted. “Yeah, let me know how that conversation goes.” She paused. “Would you do anything differently? If you had to do it again?”
He resisted answering immediately, wanting to give her question the weight it deserved. Eventually, he said, “No. I wouldn’t. Even with all I’ve been through, with all I’ve seen, I wouldn’t want to be anything other than what I am. If I had to do it all over again just to arrive at this very moment, I would. Over and over again.”
“Because you love us.”
Dad, Lucy had called him. “With everything I have.”
She nodded, looking out into the garden. “We know that. All of us do. David is starting to learn that too. It may take him some time, but if you want my opinion, you should talk to him about staying here. Permanently.”
“You think he’d accept?”
“I don’t know. But neither will you until you ask. And I’m getting really irritated with Linus’s birt gift because there’s a picture missing. It looks incomplete.”
“Maybe both things can be rectified at the same time,” Arthur said. “After the inspector leaves, of course. I won’t have her anywhere near him again, nor will I allow her to intrude on such a private family moment.”
“She’s not going to stop,” Phee said, looking at him again. “Miss Marblemaw.” She cocked her head. “But you know that already, don’t you? Especially after she told you she couldn’t get scared.”
“I do,” Arthur admitted. “But I had hoped that she’d … It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t worry about—”
“Uh, yeah, no. This is about me. It’s about all of us. We’re in this together.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, his face in her hair. “Tell me,” he whispered to her. “Whatever your heart desires, please, tell me, and I’ll do my very best to make it a reality.”
She pulled away in a huff. “I don’t need anything. That’s not how caring works. You don’t do something and expect to be rewarded, right?”
He nodded.
“Then why should I be any different? Doing the right thing isn’t about accolades or recognition.”
“Then why do it at all?” he asked, wanting to hear her answer.
She flushed, picking at a loose string on the robe. She was embarrassed, but powered through it. “You do it because maybe someone will see and do the same for another, and then that person will help someone else.” She lit up, slyly glancing at Arthur. “Like your ripples in a pond.”
He slid from the bench to the floor of the gazebo, on his knees before her. Reaching up to cup her face, he said, “You marvelous girl. I am a much better person having known you.”
She turned her head, kissing his palm before he pulled his hands away. “I lied. I thought of something I want.”
He snorted, sitting back on his heels. “And it shall be yours.”
She studied him, looking momentarily nervous, something he rarely saw in her. He waited until she worked her way through it and said, “It’s not a big deal. You can say no if you want.”
“If it’s a big deal to you, then it is to me. Tell me, please.”
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Can … can I fly with you?”
