“Us!” Feta cried. “Not them!”
“Together or not at all.”
The two pixies looked at each other—one big, one small, and both pouting.
She pointed at Bruce. “You have to think very hard.”
Feta pointed at Laddin. “You have to want it very much.”
That wasn’t a problem. Bruce crossed over and took Laddin’s hand. The energy flowed between them easily, from him into Laddin and back again. It was even stronger than it had been by the lake.
Meanwhile, Laddin grinned up at him. “You’re going to make a great dad,” he said. Then he added with a mock-stern look, “Together or not at all.”
Bruce grinned as he held up Laddin’s hand. “Together,” he echoed. “Or not at all.”
Then they turned to look at the fairies. It was all up to them as Bruce began to concentrate. He wanted an exact replica of Aaron—one so perfect in every way that Bitterroot wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
Nothing happened.
At least, not at first. Both fairies were still pouting. But then—at the exact instant, as far as Bruce could see—they abruptly grinned. Erin spun around and cried, “Fireworks!”
Feta lifted up his chubby arms and cried, “Cheesy, cheesy!”
Suddenly there were sparkling lights everywhere, as well as the smell of every disgusting cheese in the world. Wulfric started to cough, Bruce struggled not to gag, and Laddin groaned.
“Keep picturing—”
“Aaron,” Laddin said.
Fortunately it didn’t last long. The cheeses all dove straight into Feta. The light fairies including Erin gathered into one large huddle, then turned en masse and rushed the fairy baby. It looked like they meant to topple him, but when they hit, they winked out of sight.
Suddenly there were no sparkling fairy lights anywhere. And no cheeses. Just Feta, sitting there grinning like an eight-month-old baby.
“To Fairyland!” he cried, the words echoing as if they had been spoken by a thousand tiny voices. And then he abruptly shrank down to infant size, becoming an exact copy of Aaron. At least, until the fairy baby farted. Smoke came out of his ass like what had come from Smoked Gouda, and the smell was rank.
“None of that!” Laddin snapped. “No cheese farts!”
The fairy baby pouted and crossed its arms.
“And no commentary,” Bruce added. “You have to stay like a real baby.”
“Then you have to think of us as a real baby!” the too-smart baby answered.
He could do that. Laddin’s nod said the same thing.
It took a while to finish everything up. They had to feed, burp, and diaper Aaron before getting him settled with Wulfric. They had to dress and diaper the fairy baby, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. First, the child kept wanting to play. And for this baby, play meant peeing at inappropriate times and farting rancid smells before giggling like the pixies they were. If there hadn’t been so much at stake, Bruce would have laughed. A lot. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what they were risking. As far as he could tell, Bitterroot was godlike in his abilities. Tricking him was like trying to trick Zeus. It was hard to do and the vengeance would be merciless and probably unending. He remembered the punishments meted out to Sisyphus and other uppity Greeks, and did not want to become a mythic cautionary tale.
But they were quickly running out of time and had no other options, so if he was going to have to roll a boulder up a hill for all of eternity like Sisyphus, then at least he’d know he’d given it his best shot.
“All in,” Laddin said, kissing Bruce hard on the mouth. “No matter what.”
Bruce nodded. Then he picked up the fairy baby and held it close. “This is our child. Don’t think about it any other way.”
Laddin nodded as he stroked fairy Aaron’s cheek. “Our child.” Then he wrinkled his nose. “You need to smell a lot better than that,” he grumbled at the child.
“Then think of Aaron’s smell,” Bruce said, doing the same. “Remember it clearly.”
Suddenly the room was filled with the scent of new baby. It was sweet, and it was definitely overpowering.
“A little less,” Bruce said to the child. And then together, he and Laddin headed out of their bedroom.
They were met in the hall by all the members of their team and the director, who looked as sad as a man could look while still being dressed in a rumpled suit. Stratos was there too, appearing absolutely miserable, but no more than Yordan and Bing. Nero was grim, Wiz had lost his arrogant sneer, but it was Josh who stepped forward.
“Okay,” he said with determination in his voice. “We’re all here for you. What’s the plan?”
Bruce blinked, unexpectedly overcome by the show of support, but it was Laddin who spoke. “There’s no plan. We’re ….” He looked down at the baby. “We’re giving him over.”
“Bullshit,” Josh said. Then he caught his brother’s eye. “Do we fight? We need to know. Or are you running?”
Bruce shook his head. “No fight. And we’re not running.” He pulled the baby close to his chest. “We’re giving him up.” In his arms, fairy Aaron squirmed in happiness, but Bruce tightened his grip.
“You’re handing him over?” Josh’s voice was incredulous. “Just like that?”
“Yes,” Bruce said. “Just like that.”
Silence filled the room. It was so quiet they could hear fairy Aaron sucking on his fist like a vacuum cleaner. Bruce even tried to pull the tiny fist away, but it was suctioned in so hard that he had to give up or lose the image in his mind. This was baby Aaron. This was his son.
Nero touched Josh’s arm, but his words were for Laddin and Bruce. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Don’t say that!” Laddin snapped, but Bruce gripped Laddin’s hand.
“Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “We talked about this.” And they had. They’d discussed how Laddin was going to be torn up and angry at giving up the child but that Bruce would be the mean one. He’d insist that the demon-turned-baby
