“Magic.” Thatch shrugged. “Mice. But not magical mice because those make him sick. Shamaha left instructions for his care. I’ll share the doc with you.”
While my son talked, the cat positioned himself on Thatch’s lap and was giving his wrist a thorough sniffing and licking.
“Is that where you wore the bracelet Sallie gave to you?”
He nodded and rotated his wrist at a nudge from the cat. “Sallie said she didn’t weave any magic into the strands, but Shamaha thinks Sallie’s just not aware of what she’s doing when she makes things.” He looked up. “Not food, Mom. Her pies are safe. Lei-li’s the one we have to watch in the kitchen.”
Seeing Thatch grin like he was sharing insider information warmed my heart. “I made tea. Would you like some?”
“Sure.” He scratched Jasper behind the ears. The cat jumped off the squishy seat and followed me into the hall, down the stairs, and sat by the front door.
“I take it this means you’d like to go outside?” I didn’t wait for his response, just opened the door.
He flicked his tail as he passed.
I stuck my tongue out at his departing backside and propped the screen open for his return.
Thatcher liked his black tea sweet, at least, he did when he was younger and I brewed him and his brother pots of the decaffeinated version. I added a third mug to the tray for Sallie, along with the pot of honey and a small pitcher of cream.
Jasper thundered up the stairs and pushed his way between my legs as I entered the bedroom. Sallie was awake, with color in her cheeks and brighter eyes. Thatch had shifted to a perch next to her on the bed.
“I brought black tea, Sallie. Would you like some, or can I make you herbal tea or coffee?”
“Cream and sugar, please.” Disentangling her limbs from the bedcovers, Sallie pressed her elbow into the mattress, and Thatch helped her to sit upright. “Oh my god, I feel so much better.”
“Here’s to good health and healing.” I handed the mugs over, and we toasted.
Jasper went from where he had parked himself at Thatch’s feet to the bed to rubbing against Sallie’s back and starting up a loud, throaty purr. His priority was the kids.
“Mom, Ro and Shamaha talked to me and Sallie a lot yesterday.” Thatcher sipped his tea and looked to his cousin for the okay to say more. At Sallie’s subtle nod, he continued. “And we had a video call with James, Harp, and Lei-li too.” He glanced at Sallie again. She bumped shoulders with him before focusing on the contents of her mug. “So everything I tell you has been okayed.” He cleared his throat. “It’s super important to know there’s no blaming allowed here. Right, Sal?”
She nodded vigorously, still not meeting my gaze full on. “I’m trying, T-man, I swear.”
“And no guilt.”
Sallie nodded again. “No guilt. That’s a little harder.”
“Her parents made her start wearing a collar when she was twelve.”
She nodded twice. “My mom handed me a box of sanitary pads, a book about understanding my body, and a pink velvet ribbon choker.” She drew another sip of tea, swallowed, and muttered, “And they wonder why I hate pink,” under her breath. “I wore that choker everywhere, even when I bathed, and they replaced the ribbon whenever it got too ratty.”
“Do you have any sense at all of your magic?”
She shook her head, but her body language said otherwise.
“You can tell my mom.” Thatcher’s loving support for his cousin was palpable.
Sallie fortified herself. “Aunt Adelaide always called me her little crow because I wanted to touch all the pretty shiny things when I was a kid and when I got older I liked to make things for people to wear. People and pets. You tell her the rest, T.”
“When Sallie looked in mirrors, she noticed things,” Thatcher said. “Oh, and this all started before she had her first period. Her parents said Sal’s eyes were getting weak so they got her glasses, and she stopped seeing things.”
“What kinds of things?” I asked.
“All the Fae traits,” he answered, putting his mug on the floor. He used his hands to elaborate on the details. “Her ears would extend into points at the top, and her eye color would shift.” Sallie nudged him and wiggled her fingers. “Oh, and her nails. They got sharp, like cat claws but thicker.”
“I was so freaked out,” she whispered. “No one else in my family looked like that.”
“You understand now,” I said, “that no one else looked like the you in the mirror because your parents and Meribah and everybody else were so good at disguising their true faces, right?”
Sallie nodded. “There’ve been a lot of revelations to absorb, Aunt Calliope. I’m going to need time to get over what’s been going on at my house. I’m still trying to understand why my parents hid themselves from me. I’m their kid.”
“Either they were protecting you,” I said, “or—”
“Or weaponizing me.” Sallie grimaced. “They encouraged me to make jewelry, once they saw people actually liked my designs. When I told them I had started to see Harper and Thatcher regularly because of their jobs at the market, Josiah and Garnet were all like, ‘Oh, make them some of your cuffs. Maybe Aunt Calliope will be nicer to us if you cousins get closer, blah blah blah.’”
I could see Sallie’s hurt and hear her anger. I hoped the hurt would keep her on our side and the anger would keep her sharp.
“What about school?” I asked.
“They pulled me out of public school when I was thirteen and said they wanted me homeschooled. Which meant hired tutors. The first year it was just me, but after that, more of their friends took their kids out of the private school for Magicals so by the start of my junior year, there were like
