“What do you mean?” I asked, unable to stop the image of my mother, happy, swimming, and next to her, flippers. Little Calliope had known the flippers weren’t rubber accessories attached to human legs. Big Calliope was slow to catch on.
He released my hands, reached behind either side of his hips, and brought his lower feathers forward enough he could perch himself on my kitchen’s lone stool. “Benoît had the ability to grow wings and fly. Like me. It’s a rare trait, but for those endowed with such a gift, the need to fly usually dominates. My son preferred the sea to the sky, and his wings were useless in the water.” He bounced the toe of his sandal against the side of the island. “He loved you and your mother. He also loved other women, including a selkie. Genevieve understood this about him.”
“Selkie?”
“Seal folk, Calliope. Magical beings that wear their mammal skins in the water and shed them to walk as humans on land.” He crossed his arms and tucked his fingers under his armpits. “Benoît had an affair with a selkie and would borrow her skin.”
The dim bulb in my head flared as I made the connection.
“Were my parents even married?” I asked. Curiosity gave me enough of a mental boost to see what else this conversation might reveal.
“Yes,” Christoph assured me, “they were married in Maine. I was at the ceremony, along with your mother’s parents, the grandparents you said you remembered from the cottage. There’s more,” he continued, “much more. Would you like to hear about your parents now or later?”
What I wanted was to hear everything, now. What I needed was to check in with my sons, Leilani, and Sallie and go to sleep. I was down to one cylinder, and that cylinder wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Tomorrow,” I said, filing away seal skin, flippers, and my father’s amorous proclivities.
I took the stairs. My thumbs throbbed under the snug metal bands, and my legs were leaden. Sleep tried its best to catch me by the ankles and hustle me off to bed. Any bed. Under the steeply pitched walls of the second floor, low voices sounded behind the door to Harper’s room. I knocked.
“Mom? Is that you?”
Chamomile and other herbs greeted my nose when I turned the knob. The lone ceramic lamp shone softly from the floor, next to a tray of emptied mugs. Harper and Leilani spooned together on his single bed, and Rowan sat cross-legged on the braided oval rug. Next to her, Thatcher had his arm around his cousin’s shoulders. Sallie’s mascara and eyeliner were a mess.
“Hey.” I switched into comforting mom-mode as I dropped onto the open spot next to Rowan. “How’re you all holding up?”
I caught a glimpse of Sallie’s haunted eyes before she buried her face in Thatch’s chest.
He patted her hair, his touch gentle but awkward as he looked over at me, shook his head, and silently mouthed, “Not now.”
“I need to bake something,” Leilani whispered, “but I know it’s too late. I just wish Papa would text me.” She lifted her forearm, her cell phone clutched in her hand. “I feel like he and Dad should have gotten home by now and…” Her eyes widened as she looked over at Sallie and cut off the rest of the sentence.
Sallie’s parents had kidnapped Cliff and Abi’s grandsons. Leilani’s father was the Enforcer who had taken Josiah and Garnet Flechette—Sallie’s parents—into custody. As the Enforcer, he would also mete out their punishment.
“I’m so sorry.” Leilani’s whisper was barely audible.
“I made a tea I hoped would help ease them all into sleep,” said Rowan, pulling her glasses off her face. She pinched the lenses between a fold in her shirt and rubbed slow circles. “Maybe we could turn off the lights and all go to bed now. Sun’s going to rise in about three hours.”
I nodded my agreement. “Sallie, where do you want to sleep?”
Harper’s deepening voice emerged from behind Lei-li’s shoulder. “The four of us are sleeping in here, Mom.” He lifted his head, his eyes unreadable behind half-closed lids. “Thatch’s gonna pull in his mattress. We’re giving the girls our beds. We’ll use our camping pads.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” I wanted to respect their wishes. Plus, the teens would draw comfort from being together. “There are new toothbrushes in your bathroom, same shelf as the washcloths.”
Rowan put her glasses back on, rolled onto her hands and knees, and stood. “I’ll be downstairs,” she said, “if any of you feel like you need medical care or want to talk.”
She stroked the top of my head, inviting me to lean against the side of her leg. Her fingertips sent pale green tendrils curling around my vertebrae and down my spine, creating a conduit to the bones of my house and the nourishing soil below.
I was wrapped in on myself so tight I didn’t realize I’d pulled up my roots. No wonder I drank in the physical connection for the few seconds it was offered.
Rowan’s hand left my head when she shifted and bent over to pick up the tray. “Do you know where the guys plan to sleep?”
I squeezed the hand Thatch offered before he returned to rocking Sallie. “They’ll likely be up all night, working on the wards. And I don’t know what Christoph’s sleeping preferences are.”
“Can I bunk with you?”
“You can have the futon in my office. I’ll let the guys know they can divvy up the couches.”
Ro stepped through the doorway before me.
“Good night, kiddos,” I said, unfolding my legs and blowing tired kisses into the room. “I love you all. We’re downstairs if you need anything.”
Closing the door behind me, I had to stop and let the stutter in my heart right itself.
“Are you okay?” Rowan paused, balancing the tray holding the teapot and mugs.
“Everything is in its own little compartment,” I answered. “I’m worried
