Rachel slept until late that afternoon and woke up moody, but far better off than she had been. Miss Gold dropped off another bag of fast food before vanishing without a word along with her diminutive companion. Lacking a table or chairs, the rest of us gathered around Katherine's bed to talk and feast on greasy burgers and crinkle-cut fries, strolling aimlessly through conversation while deliberately avoiding all mention of the previous few days, except for a brief account of Katherine's healing and her antlered physician.
At nightfall, I accompanied Rachel and Becca to their separate rooms. It was far too easy to indulge in more than a simple, necessary kiss, and it terrified me further to know that they wouldn't resist if I did. I flattered myself to think I wasn't capable of taking advantage of them, but I allowed guilt to wash over me anyway, as a reminder of all the things I valued more than pleasure.
Once they were tucked in, I returned to Katherine and sat next to her bed for two hours, talking about nothing until she was tired enough to sleep. I'd planned to crash in the office like the night before, but she insisted I stay.
"We slept together two nights ago just fine," she said, "and this bed is huge compared to yours. You don't even have to worry about any funny business because this still hurts like hell." She laid a hand over her abdomen. "Besides, if I have to pee in the night it'll be nice to have someone here to make sure I make it to the toilet without falling." I doubted she'd have trouble. The sheds were absurdly small, and it would take effort to walk the length of one without bumping into a wall.
I eventually agreed to stay. I couldn't deny that I wanted Katherine close, but remained cautious of the effect I had on her, so I tried to sleep in my denim jumpsuit until she gave me so much grief that I shed it and crawled beneath the sheet wearing only boxers.
"That's better," she said, "not perfect, but better."
"You said no funny business."
"And I meant it, but that doesn't mean I'm not appreciative of the preview."
"Preview of what?"
"Funny business."
I sighed and turned to face her, "We talked about this."
"And now we're talking about it again. It's an open issue."
"It's too risky, we don't know what will happen. Miss Gold implied that sex would be exponentially worse than a kiss."
"You told me she said stronger, not worse. We don't know anything except three of us are supposed to be following you around like brainless puppies, and we're not. Well, most of us aren't."
"Be nice."
"Sorry, but you know what I mean. You saw what your dad did to Rachel, and that's not me. How do you know what will happen if we took it further?"
"Kath, this isn't you talking."
"Don't do that," she said, clearly upset, "I know how your touch and your kiss affect me better than you do. I'm the same person inside. Yes, the desire gets pretty intense, but I'm managing it just fine."
"You weren't asking me to bang you a week ago."
"Shut up," she hit me, but her injury wouldn't let her put any force into it.
"Kath, we never even hinted at this before I infected you."
She made a face at my choice of words. "Do you think it's because I didn't want to? I'm not bringing it up because I'm weak or giving in. I believe in you. I know you'll fix things somehow, but in the meantime, you can't protect me from this and it's just going to keep building up until I really do have to change who I am. That, or go crazy."
"All that tells me is that there's no way out."
"So let's find a way through." She tried to roll over on her side, but I could see that it hurt and I made her lay back down. "I'm trying to be honest," she sighed. "We started kissing like lovers last week, and now you have two other girls to take care of, and you can't promise me there won't ever be another one, or more after that."
"Kath..."
"Don't tell me it won't happen. You didn't mean for any of this, but here we are. I meant what I said about not standing in the way, but that doesn't mean you're not mine. If this our new normal then I want something the others can't have."
"It's not a competition."
"That's not what I meant! I..." she stopped herself with some effort and let out a breath.
"What?"
"Nothing. I need rest, and so do you. We can talk about this again when I'm better. Can you shut off the light?"
She wasn't angry, but she had clearly said all she was going to. I couldn't hold her, but we kissed, partly to reassure each other after the argument, then held hands until she nodded off. I laid awake thinking about what she said. It wasn't as though I didn't want to be with her, but I'd never gone that far with anyone, and our situation was many times more complex than any kind of normal. Taking that step might fundamentally change Katherine, but even if it didn't, it would change our relationship and we couldn't do that without affecting Rachel and Becca. It was a certified mess.
When I finally nodded off I dreamed I was walking down the aisle in a church past dozens of pews, accompanied by a pipe organ playing Tonight's the Night. On my left sat a bunch of women with too much makeup, all laughing and swooning as if drunk. On my right, the seats were filled with birds and farm animals and the smells and sounds that came with them. When I reached the steps before the altar, I looked up at three brides in lacy, white dresses who turned in unison to watch me approach. They had no faces and all of them were pregnant.
I woke shortly after sunrise and eased myself out of bed to use the toilet, then pulled on the coveralls and left Katherine to sleep and heal. The red haired Fae stood just outside, waiting.
"Second one up," Finn said as I quietly closed the door.
"Everyone else is sleeping?"
"I meant second among the four of you," she said. "I just got here and Gold doesn't sleep as far as I know. Just now she's having a forceful conversation with the tall one. How are the rest of your women?"
"Adjusting," I said and pointed to Katherine's door, "If that's how magic heals, I don't know why I'm bothering to study medicine."
Finn smiled wryly, "Magic is a fancy word that implies a lot and answers little. I have a few friends who are exceptionally good healers, but those little cheats can become disasters with very little effort. Don't dismiss your methods too quickly."
"I guess. It's just hard to get my head around it."
"Understandable, just remember everything Juhan did for her is normal where he's from."
"That's her doctor?" Finn nodded. "What's normal for you?" I asked, cringing at the audacity of my own question.
"That's complicated," she said. "Short answer? Same as you. I didn't come through the Veil."
"You're a changeling?"
Finn shrugged and motioned for me to follow her into the yard. "My grandmother was kitsune, but gramps was human and it skipped my mom."
"Neither of your parents were Fae? That had to be weird."
For a moment I caught sight of her anima, filled with more lights than I'd ever seen associated with one person. They seemed to expand briefly before fading.
"Second generation changelings are pretty rare," she shrugged, "but you can't breed out the potential. It's not a big secret but do me a solid and keep it on the DL. We aren't always treated the same as natural born Fae. Don't rat me out to everyone you bump into."
An uncomfortable chill waited in the morning air beyond the hangar door, but the sun shone brightly over most of our ramshackle resort while the gentle lapping of the river accompanied distant birdsong. The overall effect was rustic, but pleasant. The warehouse sat on the downstream end of the island only a couple of yards from the water, but the other side faced a paved work yard, and beyond a mangled, chain-link fence stretched an open field, maybe twenty acres worth of dirt and scrub grass dotted with rusting metal. In the middle of the field, Becca and Miss Gold stood facing each other.
I scratched my head and held back a yawn, "What's going on?"
"Let yourself be surprised," Finn said.
"Surprises haven't been working out so well for me lately."
She grinned and nudged my arm, "You might like this one."
When we approached, Becca looked up apprehensively, clutching both the Glim and the stubby length of wood.
"Hi," she said without smiling.
"Good morning. What's up?"
Though she stood an inch shorter than Becca, Miss Gold seemed to tower over her. "Rebecca has agreed to help us with an important matter."
"I didn't agree to anything yet."
"Nonsense, child. You have demonstrated an aptitude for both the Glim and the Fferyn, and this is a simple exercise."
"But I don't know anything, I just followed the instructions."
"Instructions for what?" I asked again, hoping someone would take the hint and fill me in.
"The current caretaker is giving us grief, Tom," Finn said, "I can't stick around and neither can Gold, so we need to transfer ownership from him to someone else or the protections here will fail."
"To Becca?"
"Oh, please no," Becca whispered.
Finn giggled and Miss Gold shook her head and said, "She means we wish to transfer stewardship to you. Ungild will not cooperate, so we are taking it from him by force."
"Uh," I said, running my hand nervously through my hair, "Okay, first, who is Ungild?"
"Have you not been listening?" Miss Gold chided, "He is the current caretaker of this property."
"So, where is he?"
"We would like to know that as well. He has offended Chloris so badly that she has left this place and will not return. He never should have been given the responsibility."
"You know why he was," Finn said, "there weren't many candidates, and he can stay under the radar. He's managed to hide from you, hasn't he?"
"For the time being," Miss Gold replied with a hint of steel.
"Wait," I said, more confused than ever, "Who's Chloris? Can we pretend that I don't know anything and start over from the beginning?"
My godmother radiated impatience, but Finn grinned amiably and began explaining, "Ungild is a menehune. Think dwarf, but with big feet and hands. They're island folk, and we thought he'd be a good fit."
"He is careless and lazy and an unworthy representative of his kin." Miss Gold interrupted.
"You had your chance to tell the story," Finn teased, "but yes, he didn't work out as well as we hoped. Chloris is a bhean tighe, and she maintained the warehouse."
"Ban-tee?"
She shook her head, "Bhean tighe."
I tried again, "Ban-tig?"
"Give the second syllable a little more oomph."
"Ban—"
"Finola, will you please continue," Miss Gold spoke sternly, glaring at us both, but she only seemed to fuel Finn's amusement.
"Fine," she sighed extravagantly. "Chloris is a kind of brunaidh. Or brownie is the more common word."
An image I'd once seen in a children's' book of a tiny cobbler popped into my head. "They make shoes, right?"
Miss Gold bristled, but Finn waved it off. "My team includes several brunaidh clans and species—hobs, lurichaun, pixies, sylphs, sprites—and none of them are shoemakers. Still, there's a kind of truth to it. Your stories came from legends, legends came from Fae."
"The brownies are the ones who cleaned up?" Becca asked, her interest overcoming her insecurity."
"A few others besides, but mostly them. Brunaidh never achieved the top of their food chain and have developed symbiotic relationships with their hosts, exchanging maintenance and repair for protection and food. Their affinity for the work has become so well developed that their gifts seem supernatural, which makes them interesting enough for campfire tales and story books."
"But Chloris is gone now."
She nodded. "Ungild's contribution to the island was passive, but he had a few duties. One of them was supplying Chloris with a daily offering of berries and milk. Her payment. He apparently killed the berry bushes that grew here and ate the goats. After a while she trashed the place and left, and it's been falling further into disrepair ever since."
"So where do I come in?" I asked.
Finn held up a finger, "I'm getting to that. This island has unique properties, Tom. The Veil thins a bit here for several reasons... magnetic alignments, the intersection of ley lines..."
"I know what those are!" Becca announced impulsively, then blushed and hugged the Glim harder.
"They're not supernatural pathways if that's what you're thinking, but they do represent a resonance in the fabric of your world, like a wrinkle in the cloth."
"Finola, will you please stop teaching them rubbish!"
Finn turned a glare on Miss Gold. "They don't need to be rocket scientists to understand that the moon orbits the earth."
"Does it?" I asked lightly.
Finn tilted her head and gave me a hungry grin that made me regret the joke. "The details don't matter, just know that this is a special place and we want to keep it hidden from the courts. The steps that have been taken require an anchor."
"You mean me."
"You must take ownership." Miss Gold interrupted.
"You need to be bound," Finn corrected. "It's a simple procedure, we just rewrite a few of the local laws to change your relationship with it. For practical purposes, you'll be its naiad."
"Its what?"
"Like dryads but for rivers, right?" Becca jumped in, her interest piquing.
"You're pretty close. Technically, we'll be simulating a hamanaiad. True elementals are part of the thing they're bound to, but we can't actually change Tom. It's more like gaslighting nature. More importantly, it'll break Ungild's bond, reset the wards, and we can start restoring this place."
"Didn't you just do that?" I asked.
"All we've done is take care of the mess so you don't hurt yourself. Most of it, anyway," Finn nodded at the junk still piled in the work yard, "but you'll need more than a clean floor and those little huts if you're going to live here. This has to happen first and we can't do it unless you're willing. You and Becca both."
"So, what's her part? Is she going to be connected too?"
"It doesn't work that way, only one person can be caretaker at a time, which is why it'll push Ungild out. Becca will simply manage the spell."
Becca seemed on the verge of panic. "I already told them I don't want to, Tom, you don't have to go through with it, M—Miss Gold said she could if I wouldn't, but they said I should because we're already togeth—connec—we're kind of linked, and it would be easier for me because of that, and it's kind of already built into the Fferyn so I don't really have to do a lot on my own, but I'm not really sure wh—"
"I believe in you," I said.
She stopped suddenly, "What?"
I stepped forward and put my hands on her shoulders, "Look, I don't know what any of this means, but you seem to. You spent a couple hours with that book and learned more about it than I did in a week. If these two believe it's safe and think you can do it, then I'm all for it."
I wasn't sure what made me say it, not then and not afterward, but I meant it and I trusted Miss Gold, and apparently Miss Gold trusted Finn enough to get her involved. I'd begun to understand that I didn't have the luxury of choosing my allies, and if the people I relied on told me something was necessary, I didn't posses the knowledge or experience to second guess them.
"Okay," I said when she didn't respond, "as far as you know, what's the worst thing that can happen?"
"I—I don't—" she looked to Miss Gold, then to Finn, but neither gave her any help, "I guess nothing if I just follow what it says. I'm not really doing a lot except turning it on and poking at a couple of runes. It's a little like a smart phone."
"Then I'm in good hands," I told her, and she smiled gratefully, "But," I added, addressing the Fae, "I want to know what I'm getting myself into."
"Whatever do you mean?" Finn asked with obviously feigned innocence.
"Will it make this changeling business worse? What am I supposed to do as a caretaker? If I'm bound to the island does that mean I'm stuck here?"
"You need only know that it is necessary," Miss Gold asserted, "and that I will not require anything from you that will do you harm."
Finn let out an explosive breath and waved her hand dramatically. "You won't have to do anything, Tom," she continued over Miss Gold's objections. "There are protections around this island and part of the river, like a knot in the natural laws of this world, and they'll unravel without an active will to maintain them. That's it. They're faltering now because Ungild has been away too long, and when we tried to contact him, he strongly suggested we insert sharp objects into uncomfortable places."
Miss Gold turned her back to us and mumbled something that sounded like "barbarian" but didn't otherwise add to Finn's story.
"That means I can't leave?"
"You can, just not forever, and you don't need to stay right on top of it. Your school is close enough if you decide to go back to your apartment."
That was welcome news since I wasn't ready to give up on the idea of finishing college, but Miss Gold had been right about the living space. I didn't see how all of us could stay in my old place.
"Are there any drawbacks or side effects?"
"Not for you," Finn clarified, "It doesn't feed on you or anything, but the land inside the wards, and everything on it, will reflect your physical and emotional health."
"So if I get sick, the place turns into a crap hole again?"
She laughed. "It's not that dramatic. Under perfect conditions, the bond partially suspends the effects of entropy, but the opposite is also true. Decay will accelerate when the bond is disrupted. You won't see or feel anything noticeable, but if you were very depressed for a long time, it would be difficult getting things to grow, machines would tend to break down more often, and you'd have to work harder to keep the place clean."
"That doesn't sound too bad, but what if something happens to the island or the warehouse, like a fire? Do I end up getting burned?"
"No," Becca said. "The spell stops it from going both ways."
"She's done her homework," Finn agreed, "if you were a real elemental, like a dryad, then yes that would be a danger, but a clause is built into the spell to make sure you're safe. If that weren't the case, we'd never get anyone to agree to it."
"Okay," I nodded, my curiosity mostly satisfied, "one more question. If Miss Gold can do it, why ask Becca?"
Finn gave my godmother a wicked grin. "She's done it in the past because she doesn't like other people playing with her toys, but to be perfectly honest she's not very good at it. Now that she's handed it off to you, someone else can have a turn, but you can't cast the spell on yourself."
"But why Becca? She's even newer to all this than I am."
"Don't be so sure, Tom, your girl here has several advantages. She's not working against preconceived notions about what magic is or isn't, and she already has a permanent connection with you. She's activated the Fferyn on her own, so it recognizes her, and she can read that damned book without painkillers or therapy. Beyond that it's like she said. This is part of what it was made to do. All the tricky bits should be automatic."
"That's it?"
"Well... it would be funny if she turned you into a newt by mistake."
Becca gasped and Miss Gold whirled around, shouting, "Finola!"
"Well it would!" Finn protested then slumped under the weight of multiple glares, "Oh fine. Yes, that's it, Tom, but it's enough. It isn't her or nothing, but out of everyone here, Becca is the best option."
I let out the breath I'd been holding and caught Becca's eye.
"What do you think?"
"I... I guess I could. I'm a little scared."
"You'll do great," I reassured her. "If it's as important as they say I think I'd rather have you pull the trigger than anyone else." She paused, then met the stares of the other two women before turning back and nodded slowly.
"Good," I said, "What do you need me to do?"
"N—nothing, just stand there. Don't move."
With one last look at the other women, she set the Glim gently down, then held the stick in both hands and mumbled the word she'd used in my apartment. The same feeling of anticipation crept across my skin and up my spine. Then she lifted the hagstone from where it hung around her neck and examined the wood before brushing her hand above its smooth end. Then she gestured, as if passing something to me.
"Ceangal." The voice seemed too deep to be hers, reverberating like an echo in a stairwell, but before I could question it a heavy wind from nowhere staggered me.
"Oh gosh! Oh no, did I mess up?" Becca cried, but Miss Gold shushed her, and Finn's face wore an eager, almost greedy, expression. The wind whipped around me like a cyclone, tugging at my clothes and hair, nearly lifting me off my feet, then the ground beneath began to tremble and groan. Becca spoke again and I couldn't hear her past the roaring and rumbling in my ears, but squinting through the turbulence I could see that none of what I felt existed for her, or for Miss Gold, or Finn, or for the trees or the birds or anything else. After a few seconds it built to a crescendo—then a sudden stillness as if it had never been, except a faint twinge of vertigo.
Becca ran to me. "Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly, "Did it work?"
"I don't know, I don't feel any different."
We were focused on each other, both a little shell-shocked, but when Finn caught our attention, she was smiling broadly, "Look down, Tom."
Becca and I both obeyed. Where I'd been standing on dead grass and barren dirt, there was a lush carpet of vibrant green peppered with wildflowers in a three-foot radius around me.