“Chauncey Baker-Parnassus,” Chauncey said, trying it on for size. “Yep! That works for me.”
“All in favor?” Sal asked.
“Aye!” the children crowed.
Except for one.
“David?” Arthur asked as the yeti ducked his head. “Do you have something to say?”
David shifted his weight from foot to foot, wringing his hands in front of him. “I haven’t been here very long.”
“You haven’t,” Arthur agreed. “But you are part of this just as much as the rest of us.”
David gnawed on his bottom lip.
Linus stepped forward, still carrying Lucy. Wind swept through his hair, and Arthur was struck by this man, this former stranger who had come to an island and found a home he did not expect.
“We’re asking,” Linus said, “if you want this to be your home too. To stay with us.”
“However,” Arthur said, “if you decide your future lies elsewhere, we will do everything we can to make sure you find your place, wherever that may be. I won’t lie to you, David. The road ahead will be fraught, but if you choose to stay, we will belong to you just as much as we belong to the others.”
David looked up at him with cautious wonder. “You’d be my dad too?”
“Yes,” Arthur said. “It would bring me unparalleled joy. I say that not to sway you into making a decision one way or the other, but to remind you that you are loved, here, now, and forever. You will always have a place here with us.”
David glanced around at the others, Talia giving him a thumbs-up. When he looked back at Arthur, he frowned. “I can’t call you Dad,” he said. “Not … not yet. I…” He sniffled. “I want to, but…” He shrugged helplessly.
“You’re not ready,” Arthur finished for him. “And David, the time may never come when you feel comfortable with that, and no one will think less of you because of it. I can’t—and won’t—replace your father, or your mother. Though I never had the pleasure of knowing them, I choose to believe they live on in you. How proud they must be of you.”
A single ice cube fell to the ground. “And I can still call Jason and B whenever I want?”
“Whenever you want,” Linus said. “In fact, we’ll invite them to the island, if they can get away from their responsibilities for a little while. If not, then Arthur or I can very easily take you back to the city to visit them. All you need to do is ask, and we’ll plan a weekend out of it.”
“Can they go too?” David asked, tossing a thumb over his shoulder.
Linus paled. “Uh. Yes. Sure. Why not? It’s not as if I have nightmares about all of you riding a city bus.”
Lucy squished his face. “Aw, Papa dreams about us. That’s adorable.”
Suddenly dry-eyed, David gave a sly smile that he had undoubtedly learned from Lucy. “And you have to build me a stage so I can perform my plays.”
“Absolutely not,” Linus said. “We will build you a stage. Everyone will help.”
“Can we use magic?” Lucy asked.
“Yes,” Arthur said. “In fact, from now on, I will insist upon it.”
“Hell yes,” Lucy crowed, causing Linus to wince.
“David?” Sal asked. “What do you think?”
He didn’t take long to answer. David, the boy yeti who’d thought he had to perform to be accepted into a magic school, puffed out his chest, hands on his hips. “What are we standing around here for? We have work to do!”
Talia tackled David first, knocking him flat on his face. Lucy wriggled down Linus’s side and joined her. Sal and Theodore sank down next to them, both grinning. Phee rolled her eyes, but sat on David’s legs. Chauncey—as he was wont to do—lay on top of them, cocooning them in green.
As they laughed and chattered excitedly—David loudest of all—Arthur, Linus, and Zoe looked on. “What are we going to do?” Zoe asked.
It was Linus who answered. “We’re going to protect our home. They want a fight? They’ve got one.”
It was Sal’s idea, and since he had the backing of the six other children, Arthur, Linus, and Zoe were outvoted.
“We’re not going to banish her,” Sal told them as they sat in the sitting room, watching him pace back and forth. Behind him was Linus’s birt present, still missing a photograph near the bottom. They’d have to see to that as soon as possible. “At least not yet. That’ll only trigger a quicker response from DICOMY, and we don’t want them to know what we’re doing until we’re ready.”
“But what if they come after us later?” Chauncey asked. “Do I need to get my battle helmet again?”
“Let me worry about that,” Zoe said. She held up a hand before Sal could reply. “I’m not trying to keep anything from you. I’m … hmm. For now, let’s just say I have a plan in mind, but there are a few more things I need to consider because once it’s done, it cannot be undone.”
A glissando of uneasy excitement trilled up him, toe to tip, a rickety flourish from piano keys made of bone and ice. Zoe spoke of deep magic, something he’d never seen from her before. Though he knew her to be powerful, he’d heard tales of the might of sprites, descended from fairies who had once called this world home. As far as anyone knew, true fairies—tricksters all, or so it was said—had disappeared centuries before. Most thought them extinct, hunted down and murdered until none were left. Others believed they’d left this world for another, moving through the fabric of reality with ease. Phee had already demonstrated her potential, but Zoe, for as long as Arthur had known her, hadn’t shown what he thought her capable of. It seemed as if that time was nearly over.
Sal nodded begrudgingly. “I trust you, Zoe. If you need our help with anything, please ask.”
“I might take you up on that,” she said. “Once I know more, you will too. That’s a promise.”
“Sal,” Linus said. “What are you thinking?”
Sal looked at the other children, who nodded at him encouragingly. “David gave me the idea.”
“I did?” David asked.
