"She said it didn't make any sense," Becca continued. "The Fferyn was—I don't really understand how she explained it, but I don't think there are many things that can make a spell do things it wasn't made for. A skilled mage, or something really powerful. Or something dangerous."
"You're not making this better, Becks," Rachel said.
"Then let me finish." Becca shot back. Rachel blinked in surprise, but kept her peace. "Meg said Tom is the only one who has the potential, the only one who could have changed the spell, but if it was only corrupted, it should have just stopped working."
"Obviously, it didn't."
"Yeah, and that's why she was confused." Becca went silent, pulling thoughts into words. "Okay, imagine trying to write a letter but you don't have anything flat to put the paper on. If the surface is a little uneven the letters might be wobbly, but you can still read it. If the paper is so bumpy that it doesn't look like words anymore, it's not a different letter, it's just a mess. If the spell worked but it's not what you meant, then it had to come from somewhere else."
"But I didn't do anything," I objected. "I was scared half to death."
"I know, that's what I told her, and she agreed. She said there wasn't any way you could have learned even the smallest part of what it would take to do something like that. It would take centuries of study, and even then it would be really hard."
"Then it can't be Thomas," Katherine said firmly.
"But it can't be anything else," Becca said again. "Meg said the tree proves it."
"You told us she didn't know anything about the tree."
"She doesn't know what it is, but she knows it shouldn't be there. It doesn't show up in the Veil."
"So?"
"So the shapes in the Veil, the stuff we see through the hagstone, are like overlapping shadows of other worlds, but we can only see the ones that are close to us, and that's why we don't notice any real differences. The tree—it only exists here, nowhere else, and Meg said that's not possible. Tom's the only other impossible thing on the island." She stopped and all three watched me carefully.
"Thomas?" Katherine prompted, waiting for me to respond.
"You think I'm going to freak out, don't you?"
"You're not?"
I sighed. "Maybe I'm just burned out, but this is way above my head. If the people who live this stuff every day are confused, I don't know what I can do about it. Maybe they're wrong."
They all seemed relieved, and Becca actually allowed herself a small smile. "There's some good news too. Meg said the Fferyn is working, it's just different."
"Does that help?"
"Well, yeah" Becca nodded, her excitement surfacing. "Meg said when an artifact breaks, the matrix collapses, but that's just energy. It's the connections that make spells work, and with an open matrix, like the one in the Fferyn, it builds new connections all the time, especially when you use the same spells over and over."
"Like neural networks in the brain," I added.
"Kind of, I guess. The druids tried to patch it up, but because the matrix was dead it couldn't make new connections. Meg said they locked the imprints of a few common spells and that's the best they could do.
"But now it's fixed, and all of the shortcuts are gone. The matrix is active, the impressions are fading, and if I want to use it, I have to learn to make spells from scratch."
"That doesn't sound easy," I said, "especially if I'm screwing it up somehow."
"It'll take time," she nodded, "but Meg said she'd help me get started. She also said that you haven't affected any of the wards or other spells here, so it might only be a problem when new laws are being written, and I could learn to work around that."
I wasn't completely comfortable with Meg's speculation, but my reaction to the news had been honest. Her best guesses contradicted each other and I could confirm that I hadn't contributed to whatever had happened—the power in my head was dormant through the entire ordeal. Even if it had been my fault, the outcome wasn't malignant. That was an encouraging thought. Maybe I was affecting my own magic, and that's why my abilities didn't work as expected. It wasn't an answer or a solution, and it might be flat-out wrong, but it gave me something to hang on to.
***
Meridian was beautiful and luxurious and possessed a distinct lack of distractions other than its massive television and improvised jogging path, and none of us were certified couch potatoes. We'd been preoccupied with Finn's amazing work and the fact that we were living in what amounted to a hidden, indoor fairy village, but as the novelty wore off, we discovered that we had a great deal of unfocused time, and by the weekend we were all a little stir crazy.
"Call her," Katherine urged me late Friday night. I'd been complaining about having to wear the denim coveralls while my only change of clothes was in the wash. "Ask Gold when the apartment will be safe. Most of my things are still there too."
"I don't want to nag," I said irritably, but that was only partly true. We were four adults who were perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, and I didn't want to go crawling back to the Fae for something as ridiculously mundane as clothing.
"Then go shopping," Rachel called out from the sofa and thumbed the remote. She'd been browsing channels for the past thirty minutes while Becca sat across from her with the Glim open on her lap. I shuffled the deck of cards I'd borrowed from her and dealt a hand to Katherine.
"We can't afford to spend money on things we don't need."
"If you don't need it, quit bitching about it."
"Easy for you to say," Katherine murmured. "You and Becca have all your stuff."
Becca looked up at the sound of her name. "It's only for a little while though, right? You can borrow some of my clothes if you want."
"No offense," Katherine grimaced, "but there's no way you have anything that fits." She was probably right. Their hips and shoulders were approximately the same, but any similarity ended there. She couldn't raid Rachel's closet either, who was shorter than Becca, but slimmer than Katherine, and wore her clothing tight. "And it doesn't solve Thomas' problem, though if he deals me another hand like this I might burn what little he has."
"What are you playing?" Becca asked.
Katherine frowned as she threw out one of the cards in her hand. "Pineapple."
"I don't think I've ever heard of that."
"It's like poker," I said. "but you start with three hole cards instead of two, and discard one before the ante."
"The auntie what?" Becca sat up, interested but confused.
"It's the first round of betting, Becks." Rachel said, finally giving up on the TV. "Everyone puts up money based on how good they think their hand will be."
"But how do you know?"
I grinned over the top of my hand, "You don't, that's what makes it fun."
My foster dad, Mason, used to let me sit with him on poker nights, when a few of his construction buddies showed up to drink his beer and tell each other dirty jokes under the disapproving eye of his wife, Tracy. I picked up on the rules quickly, but Mason had a gift when it came to card games, and he taught me things I never would have learned on my own. It was Tracy, however, who showed me the Pineapple variant that I preferred when I was given the choice. The extra card gave your opening hand more flexibility, and in exchange it demanded additional strategy.
Becca stretched her neck to see over the back of the couch. "What are you betting with?"
"Nothing," Katherine said, "it's just for fun."
"How is poker fun without betting?" Rachel asked.
"It's not like we'd take each others' money, and we don't have chips."
"Without the risk it's just fucking hi-lo," Rachel insisted and stood up, joining us at the bar.
"You're not even playing, Rach, why does it matter?"
"Who said I'm not playing? Deal me in."
"We don't have chips."
"We will in a second." She walked past us to the cupboards and pulled out a bag of M&M's and a glass serving bowl, then sat down next to Katherine and began sorting them.
"I got those for baking," Becca protested, but her curiosity was piqued, so she closed the Glim and sat with us at the end of the counter.
"We'll put 'em back," Rachel promised, assigning values to each color. She distributed them evenly, but Becca pushed her pile away.
"I don't know how to play."
"Come on, we'll teach you. You might want to hold out, Tom, Kath has a shitty hand."
"Rachel!" Katherine took a swing at her friend but missed, then threw down her cards. I knew she was bluffing because I was familiar with her tells, but I kept that detail to myself.
Rachel took her seat while I collected the cards. "You had no stake in the game anyway."
"Fine." Katherine glared at her. "I'm going to take all your M&M's and make you watch me eat them."
"They're for baking," Becca said again.
"I'll buy you more."
I dealt four hands, burned one card, and laid three face down between us. Rachel slapped a hand on top of hers without looking at them. "No blind?"
"House rules," I told her, "this isn't a tournament. We'll just ante in after the discard and bet like normal from there."
"Minimum bid?"
"Start with one, we can raise the stakes later."
Becca hesitantly picked up her cards one at a time, shooting cautious glances between Rachel and me. "I don't know what any of that means."
"You'll get it." Katherine began separating her M&Ms by color. "We'll walk you through the first few hands.
"Where did you learn to play?" Rachel asked, apparently satisfied with my adjustment to the rules.
"Thomas taught me months ago."
Rachel sat back, smirking over the top of her cards. "This should be good."
"I'm not half bad, Rach." I warned her, but she snorted a laugh. I didn't know how well she played, but I was certain she'd underestimated me and I wasn't above using that to my advantage.
I was taught to watch my opponents closely in poker, and Becca's behavior, at first, seemed random. She played absurd hands, betting higher than she should with no apparent concern for her pile of candy, and I wondered if she'd grasped the concept of the game at all, but I'd learned a few things about how her mind worked over the past few weeks. Rather than assimilating the rules of the game, she explored them without making assumptions. She laid down cards not to win, but to see what would happen when she did.
As curious as it was, her tactic didn't seem to be helping as her bank steadily dwindled. After an hour, when she impulsively pushed all her candies to the center of the table, I wondered if she had given up.
"You serious?" Rachel asked, glancing warily at the pot.
Becca sighed. "Yeah, why?"
"If you lose this hand you're out."
"I know."
Rachel frowned at her own cards, then looked at Katherine, who shrugged in reply. I was sitting on two fours, with a six, a ten, and a jack on the board. It was normal for new players to over-bet when they had a killer hand and my low pair wouldn't beat anything decent, so I took the wiser route and folded. Katherine quietly did the same.
"Ah fuck," Rachel muttered after agonizing over her cards and dropped them on the table. Two jacks. It was a tough spot. Three of a kind was a good hand and she'd invested quite a few M&M's, but it wasn't worth risking half her bank to match Becca's bet. I'd have done the same. Becca smiled and reached for the bowl, but Rachel stopped her.
"Wait, what did you have?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?"
Becca handed over her cards. A two and a seven. Rachel gaped at her for several seconds then sat down hard.
"You played us."
Becca froze as she reached for the bowl again. "Was it wrong?"
"No," Katherine giggled and held up her hand for a high-five. "Just unexpected."
"That's how you win, though, right?"
"Exactly right," Rachel glowered, but she was obviously impressed. After that we were all more cautious with Becca.
I had fun, and for the first time in days I felt relaxed as we laughed and argued our way through the evening. Rachel was very good, but I didn't challenge her, choosing to play conservatively while I cataloged her habits. She would nod slightly when she picked up on someone else's tells, then the amount of time she spent evaluating her own cards projected her level of confidence in them. Her big giveaway, however, was going hard, losing all pretense of emotion when she had a winning hand.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Katherine was the first to lose her candy. Only Becca had less experience, but she played so erratically that nobody could predict her intentions. I wouldn't have called it a style, but she was remarkably successful with it.
Katherine tossed her cards on the table. "Guess that's it for me."
"You need to up your game, chica." Rachel said with a heavy accent and popped a green M&M into her mouth, then in her usual voice, "won't be as much fun with three."
"I can give you a loan," I said. I wasn't ready to end the game either, but Rachel shook her head emphatically.
"No, no loans."
"You want her to keep playing, don't you?"
"Sure, but where do you draw the line? You pass money around the table like that and there's no gamble. Can't ever tell who's winning."
"Whose game is this?" I asked, "I seem to remember you crashing our table."
"These are ground rules, not house rules. The bet has to have value."
"It's just candy, Rach."
"Doesn't matter what you call it," she insisted. "The game is about the bet, and if the bet isn't worth anything there's no incentive. No pressure." I didn't completely agree, but Rachel was extremely competitive, and she'd rather finish last than take the spirit out of a win.
"I guess we're done then," I said and began gathering the cards.
"Wait," Katherine said, "what about collateral? What if I give Thomas something in exchange for some of his M&M's?"
Rachel considered it, then shook her head. "Just what you bring to the table. You can't run around collecting shit to play with. And before you ask, no IOUs. You could hand out scraps of paper all day long."
Katherine smirked. "Fine. Here." She pulled off a shoe and passed it to me. "What's that worth to you?"
I stared in confusion for a few seconds until Rachel laughed. "Strip poker? Really?" Becca looked away, but not before I saw the red in her cheeks.
"I'm just trying to stay in the game," Katherine said. "We can stop if anyone gets uncomfortable."
"This just got a hell of a lot more interesting," Rachel said, then shrugged. "I guess I'm okay with it since everyone's already seen my tits, but we need to assign values up front."
"Alright, I'll give you thirty," I agreed quickly, wanting to get back to the game.
"Fifty," she countered, but Rachel stepped in.
"Twenty-five, tops."
"I lost twice that in the last hand," Katherine argued, but Rachel was adamant.
"Hand over both shoes then. You want big bank, it's got to be worth it."
"Bitch."
"Flattery will get you nowhere."
"What about socks?"
"Same. Fifty for the shirt, sixty for the pants, and a hundred for underwear."
"Panties should be worth more than a bra."
"Fine, hundred-fifty for panties."
I interrupted as soon as I was able to process the conversation without inappropriate mental detours. "The shoes are fine, it's not going that far."
"That's up to Kath."
"Who says I'm going to lose?"
Rachel snorted a laugh, but I continued. "It's not going that far because I'm not paying for her shirt and pants."
Katherine smirked again. "You're not wearing anything under the coveralls, are you?"
"That's beside the point. I'm not playing naked card games with you three."
Rachel put her elbows on the table and leaned toward me. "Tom, you need to get over yourself. What if we're stuck like this the rest of our lives, horny as shit and nothing we can do about it?"
"You don't get it. I have urges too. I'm not saying it's the same as what you're going through, but kissing used to be awkward and necessary, and now it's habit."
"And you enjoy it." Katherine finished for me and I sighed.
"I get it, Tom," Rachel said, "but you can't expect everything to be normal. There isn't a word for what we have here. We can't be just friends, none of us are into casual hookups, and we're not fuck toys, but like it or not, the sexual tension is real, even for Becca, and it's not going away."
"I never said it wasn't."
"Rachel's right," Katherine agreed. "The rules are different for us."
"That's no reason to justify—"
"I'm not saying that, but you can't expect us to live like we're in a convent either." She cocked her head to one side. "Do you think it's wrong to lie?"
"Well, yeah."
"Always?"
"Depends," Rachel interrupted. "You know how much I hate bullshit, but the people who ran the underground railroad lied their asses off to keep it going, and I can't fault them for that."
"Okay," Katherine nodded, "what about murder?"
"What does that have to—"
"Same thing," Rachel said. "I'd kill to protect someone, or if there was a war. Wouldn't unalive someone just because they pissed me off, though." Katherine's eyes were locked onto mine, driving her point home.
"Okay, I see your point."
"Do you?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Any other guy would be an asshole for having three girlfriends."
Becca seemed scandalized by my choice of words but Katherine just laughed. "You're not any other guy, Thomas. Look at the table. Poker is poker but you play with house rules because sometimes the situation requires flexibility, otherwise there's no game at all."
I glanced at the candy on the table and the shoe in my hand. It wasn't anywhere near as easy as they made it sound, but I couldn't fairly dismiss their point. "Do you agree with that, Becca?"
"Well I don't want to take my clothes off right here, but it makes sense yeah."
"It's hardly that dramatic," Katherine said, satisfied. "People play strip poker all the time without turning it into an orgy, and we share a shower without walls. Now take my shoes and give me those M&M's."
I reluctantly passed her the candy and set her shoes on the floor next to my chair. "I'll go with it, but I'm siding with Becca, my clothes are staying where they are." I wouldn't have had a problem losing my shoes or a shirt, but even my socks were in the wash.
"Spoilsport." Katherine chided, her eyes twinkling like Finn's. "You need more than one change of clothes. So do I."
I dealt out another hand. "I'll live. What I really need is my computer. I can recover most of my passwords, but I've got months worth of notes and study materials that will take time to replace."
"I don't see why we can't make one quick trip to the apartment," Katherine said. "Didn't Finn say nobody knows what we look like?"
"Tom's dad knows Rachel," Becca reminded her, "and the satyrs were able to identify us because of Tom. They don't need to know what we look like."
"Wait," I said, "say that again."
"They don't need to know—,"
"No, not that. They were able to tell because of me." I tapped a finger on the table as the thoughts knit together in my head. "What if someone else goes instead? Someone who isn't infected."
"I hate that word." Katherine sniffed and tossed aside one of her cards.
"You know what I mean. Could we call a friend and ask them to pick up a few things for us?"
Katherine's eyes lit up. "Do you really think that would work? I'd love to have the rest of my things, and not just because of the clothes."
"I don't think you should." Becca discarded, then set her hand face-down on the counter. "I mean it's just for a little while longer."
"We don't know that," I said. "They told us they'd let us know when it was ready, but if they're setting up wards they can't just skip around casting spells where people can see them. They're doing everything in secret and they don't know how long the Winter Court will keep watching that street."
"But wouldn't we just put someone else in danger?"
"I doubt it. There are dozens of students living on that block. If it's not causing problems for them now, what's one more?"
"Okay, but if they go into the apartment..."
"Miss Gold said they couldn't tell which one is mine, and that's why they're watching the whole neighborhood." The more I thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Why hadn't I considered it before?
"But is it worth the—,"
"Becca, it might be." I dropped a high-value M&M in the bowl without thinking about it, earning a glare from Katherine, who folded rather than match my bet. "What if you were the dean? I'm already a big red flag because of my condition."
"You're better now though."
"They don't know that, and I can't drop that bomb without being admitted to the hospital for testing, and that could take weeks. Besides, the first thing they'll do is put me back on the meds."
"Yeah, that would be bad," Rachel noted, then placed her bet before stealing the deck and laying down the turn card. My mind was not on the game, and I did a double take when I realized it completed a full house. She caught my expression, and folded with a mumbled curse.
"Yeah, and I'm on thin ice anyway. Like I said, the dean's already cautious, and the professors have noticed a dramatic change in my habits. Part of the agreement that got me into BAU was granting them power of attorney to commit me to a care facility for observation, against my will if necessary." All three of them shot me horrified looks.
"Thomas, you never told me that!" Katherine chided.
"I never thought it would be a problem until now. I don't think it would be their first choice, but they're used to me riding ahead of the curve. If I don't get back to normal—"
"They'll assume something's wrong," Becca finished, "then they'll take you away from us, and we'll die." She laid down her cards absently before the end of the hand, oblivious to the flush she'd been holding. I folded, but she didn't collect her winnings.
"Maybe not," I said, "probably not, but that's what I'm afraid of. If we can just meet with someone from school, someone we trust, and give them a key and instructions, I'll have everything I need to get back on track and we don't have to risk it. What will it hurt? We wouldn't be breaking any laws, or violating the instructions Miss Gold and Finn gave us."
"I'm still scared it's a mistake," Becca said quietly. I picked up the bowl and emptied its contents into her candy pile.
"It might be, but it sounds like the best option," Rachel said. "If the school is his legal guardian he can't even ghost them without kicking a hornet's nest. When they can't find him, they'll get the cops involved, they'll start asking around. It's no secret that he's dating Kath, and checking on her will lead them to me. If they can't reach us, they'll call our families, and that'll be a shitstorm. There's nothing about this that won't look shady as fuck."
"I guess you're right." Becca said. "Mike over at Midway won't forget Tom either."
"Whose name is on the rental agreement?"
"Tom's."
"Then yeah, they'll probably dig you up too."
Becca sighed again. "Can we at least wait until the weekend is over? Maybe we'll hear something by then. Maybe it'll be safe for us to go."
"That's a fair compromise," Katherine agreed. "The administrative offices won't open again until Monday anyway, so nobody's making any decisions before then."
The decision to act lifted my spirits considerably after nearly two days of idleness, and I smiled around the table while Rachel dealt the next hand. We continued playing for a while, but Rachel was ruthless, and there was only so much I could do to protect the other girls without bankrupting myself. Becca finally had to remove a shoe, but after Katherine lost her shirt, and before she could ante in her sports bra, I called it a night.