Ten minutes later, I emerged with a tea tray and carried it over to the small sitting area by the window, which was nothing more than a circular table with four armchairs around it. Genie and Persie had already made themselves at home, their hushed discussion coming to an abrupt end as I appeared. I didn’t want to call myself paranoid, but it seemed likely I’d been the topic of conversation. Ignoring it, I distributed the beverages and snacks and took a seat, glad to be off my feet for a moment.
“No offense intended, but don’t you two have anything more exciting to do on a Friday night?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.
Genie raised an irreverent eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Uh… I don’t know, watching movies with your classmates?”
Persie chuckled. “Genie doesn’t like to. She says everyone always talks through it, so she can’t enjoy it.”
“I understand completely.” I didn’t watch movies often, but when I did, I liked to know what was going on. “My mum was the worst for that. She’d ask endless questions about things I couldn’t possibly know the answers to, and then fall asleep halfway through. At least I got to watch the end in peace.”
Genie shrugged. “Exactly, who needs that? Besides, it’s nice here.” She gazed out the window for a moment, where the sea thrashed beneath the setting sun, and then snapped back to the present. “If you don’t get enough social interaction, you might try having a tea party with the monsters. Really, we’re helping you out.”
“Ah, I see.” I laughed, wishing she would turn to look at the sunset again. “Is this a secret mission Victoria has given you?”
“Maybe,” she replied, her slate gray eyes glittering.
I pretended to sigh. “And here I was, thinking you visited because you liked my company.”
Her eyelids flickered subtly, her smile fading. “You’re not so bad.”
Really? It wasn’t much in the way of a compliment, but coming from her, it was akin to a shower of praise. That was part of the endless tug-of-war that forged our relationship—the push and pull of jokes and quips, interspersed with the occasional kind word or unexpected sentiment that slackened the rope.
I decided to change the subject, in case Persie felt awkward. “Speaking of parties and mums, how are you both feeling about the family extravaganza next month? It’s always a wonderful occasion.” These family weekends took place biannually—halfway through and at the conclusion of the academic year. Everyone tended to get very excited by the prospect, as there weren’t many opportunities to see loved ones when you were bogged down in the rigors of training. Even phone calls and texts could be taxing after a long day.
Genie made a disturbingly realistic retching noise. “I’d rather just wait until graduation to see my dad. It’s easier knowing he’s an ocean away.”
For a clever man, you can be exceedingly dense sometimes. It had been so long since the Door mess that I’d almost forgotten what I’d seen and heard that day, when we’d found Genie under the hypnotic spell. She’d spoken about arranged marriage, and how much she hated the idea. I hadn’t realized there were deeper familial tensions, but I supposed that should have been obvious from her frantic state that day.
Persie looked suddenly sad. “You don’t mean that. I’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior, and he’ll be thrilled to see you again, doing so well here.”
“If I were to hold my breath on that, I’d die.” She grabbed a hobnob and devoured it with remarkable aggression.
Against my better judgment, the words “You don’t get on?” somehow slipped out of my mouth. Genie was an enigma to me: bright and ferocious and brave, but there were occasional glimpses of vulnerability, and I wanted to know those parts, too.
Genie paused, a few crumbs dropping into her coffee. “We do and we don’t. I understand now why he’s always been so overprotective, but I could do without all the hyper-traditional bull he’ll inevitably spew.” Her voice cracked, and she took a sip of her drink. “Still, I miss the stuffing out of him, and I do love him. The trouble is… this was never part of his grand plan for me. He’s come around in the past few months, sure, but I’m sure he’ll scoff and roll his eyes a lot.”
“Well, at least you have that in common,” I joked, then worried she might not be in a joking mood. To my surprise, a grin shot back at me from over the lip of her mug.
“Says you.” She laughed. “I’m shocked your retinas are still attached.”
I smiled back. “I’ve trained them, over the years.” Curious, I turned to Persie. “How about you? There’s already a bit of excitement rippling through the Institute about the famous Harley Merlin coming to visit. Although I’d say you’re just as much of a celebrity as she is, after your recent heroics.” To have a famous, or infamous, parent undoubtedly came with a lot of unfair expectations, but she was enthusiastic, beaming as she spoke.
“I’m really looking forward to it. My parents are already counting down the days, and my mom’s complaints about video calls get worse every time I call. I think it’ll put their minds at ease if they can actually be here for a while and see firsthand that I’m doing okay.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“How about your family? I know your dad is sort of out of the picture, but will your mom come?” Genie interjected.
I kept forgetting that these two were as thick as thieves. Nothing remained a secret for long. Not that I’d asked Persie to keep my family particulars from Genie, but everything I said to one seemed to reach the other via some female osmosis. However, there was nothing more I wanted to add about that part of my life. My dad had forgotten about us, so I’d made the decision, a long time ago, to forget about him. Which begged the question of why I wore his bracelet around my wrist, even now. I had no real answer to that, other than it served as a reminder that I had survived without him for most of my life, and I would continue to do so.
“I’m a scholar’s assistant. I can take vacation days to go and see my mum whenever I want,” I replied, avoiding the subject.
“I like the way you say that. ‘Mum.’” Genie chuckled to herself, the charming sound lowering my guard for the question that ambushed me next. “Are you still in touch with your dad? Would he come to see you if you asked him, or do you not know where he is?”
I hesitated a moment too long. “I have no idea where he is, and I don’t much care.” That was half-true, but I had no desire to be fully honest, not even with Genie. “Anyway. You’re here for the pixies, right? You’re always here for the pixies.”
They put on a pair of innocent grins that fooled no one, then Persie dove right to the heart of it.
“Well, the pixies have been locked up for a while, and I was thinking it might be good for them to stretch their wings and get some air.” She tapped the side of her mug nervously. “I know I keep asking, and you’re not really supposed to let me, but they hate it in those orbs.”
What sort of vicious cycle did I start? I hadn’t been able to resist their mutual pleas to let Boudicca visit Persie’s room while the two of them were quarantining after the Door business, and it had snowballed from there. Now it was requests for full-on excursions into the orchard or down to the sea, or for a walk in the walled gardens. And it was beginning to worry me. If Victoria discovered that I was permitting this, I would get more than a slap on the wrist.