O ak holds my hand, and I carry his small suitcase down the steps toward the empty parking lot.
I look back up at Heather. She’s dragging a bag behind her and some bungee cords she says we can use if we have to put one of the suitcases on the roof rack. I haven’t told her there isn’t even a car.
“So,” I say, looking at Vivi.
Vivi smiles, reaching out her hand toward me. I take the ragwort stalks out of my pocket and hand them over.
I can’t look at Heather’s face. I turn back to Oak. He’s picking four-leaf clovers from the grass, finding them effortlessly, making a bouquet.
“What are you doing?” Heather asks, puzzled.
“We’re not going to take a car. We’re going to fly instead,” says Vivi.
“We’re going to the airport?” Vivi laughs. “You’ll love this. Steed, rise and bear us where I command.” A choked gasp behind me. Then Heather screams. I turn despite myself.
The ragwort steeds are there in front of the apartment complex— starved-looking yellow ponies with lacy manes and emerald eyes, like sea horses on land, weeds come to snorting, snuffling life. And Heather, hands over her mouth.
“Surprise!” says Vivi, continuing to behave as though this is a small thing. Oak, clearly anticipating this moment, chooses it to rip off his own glamour, revealing his horns.
“See, Heather,” he says. “We’re magic. Are you surprised?” She looks at Oak, at the monstrous ragwort ponies, and then sinks down to sit on her suitcase. “Okay,” she says. “This is some kind of bullshit practical joke or something, but one of you is going to tell me what’s going on or I am going to go back inside the house and lock you all out.” Oak looks crestfallen. He’d really expected her to be delighted. I put my arm around him, rubbing his shoulder. “Come on, sweets,” I say. “Let’s get the stuff loaded up, and they can come after. Mom and Dad are so excited to see you.” “I miss them,” he tells me. “I miss you, too.” I kiss him on one soft cheek as I lift him onto the horse’s back. He looks over my shoulder at Heather.
Behind me, I can hear Vivi start to explain. “Faerie is real. Magic is real. See? I’m not human, and neither is my brother. And we’re going to take you away to a magic island for the whole week. Don’t be afraid.
We’re not the scary ones.” I manage to get the bungee cords from Heather’s numb hands while Vivi shows off her pointed ears and cat eyes and tries to explain away never telling her any of it before.
We are definitely the scary ones.
Some hours later, we are in Oriana’s parlor. Heather, still looking bewildered and upset, walks around, staring at the strange art on the walls,
the ominous pattern of beetles and thorns in the weave of draperies.
Oak sits on Oriana’s lap, letting her cradle him in her arms as though he is very small again. Her pale fingers fuss with his hair—which she thinks is too short—and he tells her a long, rambling story about school and the way the stars are different in the mortal world and what peanut butter tastes like.
It hurts a little to watch, because Oriana no more gave birth to Oak than to me or Taryn, but she is very clearly Oak’s mother while she has steadfastly refused to be ours.
Vivi pulls presents from her suitcase. Bags of coffee beans, glass earrings in the shape of little leaves, tins of dulce de leche.
Heather walks over to me. “This is all real.” “Really, really real,” I confirm.
“And it’s true that these people are elves, that Vee is an elf, like from a story?” Heather looks around the room again, warily, as though she is expecting a rainbow-colored unicorn to burst through the plaster and lathe.
“Yup,” I say. She seems freaked out, but not actually angry at Vivi,
which is something. Maybe the news is too big for anger, at least yet.
Or maybe Heather’s honestly pleased. Maybe Vivi was right about the way to tell her, and it was only that the delight took a few minutes to kick in. What do I know about love?
“And this place is…” she stops herself. “Oak is some kind of prince?
He’s got horns. And Vivi has those eyes.” “Cat eyes like her father,” I say. “It’s a lot, I’m sure.” “He sounds scary,” Heather says. “Your dad. Sorry, I mean Vee’s dad.
She says he’s not really your father.” I flinch, although I am sure Vivi didn’t mean it that way. Maybe she didn’t even say it that way.
“Because you’re human,” Heather tries to clarify. “You are human,
right?” I nod, and the relief on her face is clear. She laughs a little.
“It’s not easy to be human in Faerie,” I tell her. “Come walk with me. I want to tell you some stuff.” She tries to catch Vivi’s eye, but Vivi is still sitting on the rug, rooting through her...