“I don’t care,” Sal said, never looking away from Arthur. “If this is about us, then we have the right to know what it is. You can’t protect us forever.”
His greatest fear laid bare. And didn’t he want to push back? Didn’t he just want to tell Sal that he was still a child, fifteen years old, yes, but not a man? Oh, he did, and it bubbled in his throat, danced along his tongue. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Zoe squeezed his hand. “Listen to him,” she said quietly. “Trust him.”
But Arthur was on the cusp of panicking. “I know I can’t protect you forever. But that doesn’t mean I won’t still try. None of you should ever have to know what it feels like to be—”
“Unwanted?” Sal asked. “Unloved? Despised? We know what that feels like. We may not have gone through what you did, but that doesn’t make our experiences any less important.”
“I’ve never thought as much,” Arthur said sharply. “Never. Not once.”
Sal nodded, taking a step forward. Behind him, the other children watched, waited. “Good. Because you can’t know everything. You can’t be everything, even if we want you to be.”
Arthur cocked his head, squinting at Sal. “Explain, please. Explain why I should consider putting you anywhere remotely close to the crosshairs.”
“Because we’re already there,” Sal said. “We have been for a long time. It may not be about all of us equally”—a knowing look, and once again, Arthur wondered how anyone could have seen Sal as anything but a born leader—“but we’re in this together. And even then, we might do things differently.”
“Why?” Linus asked.
“Because you can’t be everything to us,” Sal said. “No matter what you’re capable of, the power both of you have, you can’t understand certain things. I have to navigate three worlds. Being human. Being magical. Being Black. Can you help with two of those? Yeah, you can. But you know nothing of the last. You can’t. That’s something I need to figure out. Luckily, I don’t have to do it alone.”
“You don’t,” Zoe agreed.
“Bigotry comes in all forms,” Sal said, “not just against magical people. It wasn’t too long ago that you and Linus couldn’t get married, and look at you now.” And then he broke the world. “You have to trust me. Trust us. We may be kids, but we’re your kids, Dad. You made us all believe we could do anything. Now you have to trust us to do that.”
It was Arthur’s turn at incoherence, and he proved to be up there with the best of them. “I—you—how is that—you aren’t—oh, dear.”
“You’ve broken him,” Linus said. “I never thought I’d see the day when—”
“He’s Dad,” Talia said. “And you’re Papa. We’ve all decided, so you can’t go switching.”
“I wanted to call you Pappy, but I was outvoted,” Lucy said sadly.
“Oh,” Linus whispered as he wiped his eyes over a watery smile. “I see.”
“I’m sorry,” Arthur told Sal in a hoarse voice. “I should be listening more than I have been. You’re…” He sighed. “You’re right, of course. There are things you’ll do and be in life that I won’t be part of. That still doesn’t mean I won’t worry every second of every day.”
Sal laughed, shaking his head. “That’s because you’re our father.” His smile faded slightly. “But even then, I have to figure out some things on my own. I need to make mistakes and learn from them. I’m a kid, but I won’t be for long.” He glanced back at his brothers and sisters. “We won’t be for long. Isn’t it time we showed people what we’re made of?”
“The best stuff.” Linus sniffled. “That’s what you’re all made of. The very best.”
“Are you sure?” Arthur asked. “I will only ask this once. Are you sure?”
Sal didn’t hesitate. As the other children nodded behind him, he said, “We’re sure.”
Arthur looked at Zoe, who smiled. He looked at Linus, who said, “You heard our children. They’re sure.”
Pride and fear warred within him, but it was a battle Arthur wanted no part of, especially when the victor had yet to be decided. Shoving it down as far as he could, he said, “Harriet Marblemaw is working for Jeanine Rowder, the woman from the hearing. We knew as much but have now come into information that indicates subterfuge.”
“My favorite kind of fuge,” Lucy breathed. “Next to vermifuge, which is medicine that expels intestinal worms.”
Linus burst into tears. “You were listening in your vocabulary lessons!”
“Of course I was,” Lucy said. “I’m literally a devil. Words are how we bargain for souls, duh.”
Lucy didn’t try to squirm away when Linus scooped him up into a hug, peppering his face with loud smacks. When Linus tried to set him back down, Lucy clung to him, and Linus switched arms, holding him close. Lucy laid a head on his shoulder.
“She is going to try and take us away,” Phee said.
“She is,” Arthur said. “But she will not succeed.” And though he knew he shouldn’t, he added, “You have my word.”
“And mine,” Zoe said.
“Mine too,” Linus said as Lucy blinked slowly against his throat.
“Why?” Sal asked. “What does she want?”
Arthur hesitated. “What people in power always want: more power. Rowder thinks she can use you all to get what she wants. To remake the world until everyone is subservient.”
Talia sighed. “It’s so hard being this popular all the time. Like, we get it. You’re obsessed with us. Calm down.”
Theodore leapt from the porch, alighting on Sal’s shoulder. He leaned forward, head tilting to the side as he looked at Linus. He chirped a question.
“Yes,” Linus said. “Your button is still in my pocket. I will defend it with my life.”
Theodore nodded, then turned to Arthur, head tilting the other way, followed by three chirps, two clicks in quick succession, ending with an upturned growl.
The question made Arthur heartsore. “A certified adoption is just a piece of paper. You are my son, and nothing will ever change that.”
“Parnassus-Baker or Baker-Parnassus?” Phee asked. “Dad was here first, but I think I like the sound of Phee Baker-Parnassus better. Rolls right off the tongue.”
