xvii: control
Will put down the dishes he was washing the second he heard the crying.
"Girls," he called out the back door. "Girls, what's wrong?"
Cata was guiding (though 'pushing' may be the better word) Francesca back to her house. She was wearing her rain boots and a grey dress with three buttons at the top, part of the Aunt Hazel, With Love Couture collection.
"Franca, what's the matter," Will said crouching down and holding out his arms. Francesca was holding her hands open, wilted flower petals in her palms.
"It died," Franca said. "My garden died."
"Oh, sweetie…" Will said. He gathered the tearful toddler in his arms.
"Not all of it," Cata said, probably trying to be helpful. "The basi-basa-basi-"
"The basilic?" Will offered.
"Yeah," Cata said. She patted her sister on the back. "Not the basilica."
"I touched it," Franca said. "I touched it and it died."
Will bit his lip. What day of the month was it? Past the Autumn solstice?
"Oh, sweetie," Will said. "It's too late in the year to garden. Did Papa and I forget to tell you?"
Franca just kept crying, closing her little fingers around the flower petals. Will cussed internally.
Persephone was back in the Underworld by now. Winter was coming.
"Here," Will said kissing her cheek. "Why don't we go colour in the playroom? We can draw all the flowers like they're pretty again, Francesca. Cata, would you like to come help?"
He got up, propping Francesca on his hip, and closed the door behind Cata.
Francesca looked absolutely adorable. Pigtails only vaguely contained her curls, and she wore a blue dress embroidered with pink flowers and clovers over a white t-shirt. She wore teeny tiny Mary Janes and looked up at Miss Gina and at Nico expectantly.
"I'm not sure I understand what you're suggesting," Nico said. "That a first grader somehow sabotaged all the bean sprouts she and her classmates have been trying to grow? I mean, this sounds a little improbable. I assure you that Francesca is loving this science unit. She tells us every day if she got to water her bean or if it grew…"
He was working the mist hard.
"I know, I've seen her care for her bean every day," Miss Gina said. "But the other children did say they saw Francesca…"
Children saw through the mist like a knife could slice through butter. Damn.
"That is strange," Nico said. Now he just had to eject them from the situation altogether. "Well, Francesca and I will talk about it at home and I'll see what I can learn, but I don't know how she could have scorched those beans…"
"Neither do I," Miss Gina said. Nico felt bad about manipulating her, she was a pretty cool teacher. Cata had loved her. "I just thought I should mention it to you, should Francesca bring it up…"
"Oh, absolutely," Nico said. "I completely understand. Thank you."
If there was one thing Francesca hadn't been expecting from this, it was for Catalina to be dropped off at karate class and for her to go get ice cream with Papa. They sat at a picnic table near the ice cream truck and Papa even let her get a cone that was dipped in chocolate.
"You know Franca," Papa said, using his spoon to make his ice cream melt faster. "There are some really special people in the world."
Franca nodded. "Jonnathan Parker can touch his nose with his tongue."
"Cata can do that too," Nico acknowledged. "It's pretty cool."
"And a little scary."
"And a little scary. But some people can do even more special things. You know how Daddy can heat up your blankets with his fingers on Winter nights? And how Papa can go to work in LA and come back to tuck you in without taking the plane?"
"Uh-huh," Franca said. "Shh."
"Shh," Nico agreed. "Well, you're special like that too, Franca. There are days when you can touch plants and make them grow extra-big. When their flowers can be extra colourful and their fruit can be extra yummy. But there are other days when you take those things away from them. Special people like us need to be careful, to make sure we don't accidentally hurt others or do bad things. You need to try not to touch flowers and vegetables and fruits when it's cold outside, alright?"
"Alright," Francesca said. She let a piece of chocolate melt in her mouth. "Papa?"
"Yes, tresoro?"
"Shh," she said.
"Yes," Nico agreed. "Shh."
Francesca stood at her windowsill, chin propped up on her hands. She was looking at the three neat cups of African violets, ribbons still wrapped around the mugs in their birthday wrapping.
"Francesca," Papa said leaning in the doorframe, carrying baby Emilia in his arms. "Francesca, don't touch tresoro."
"I know," Francesca said. "Not until March 21st."
The spring equinox, which felt even better to Franca than her real birthday.
Except Papa didn't make cake that day, and he made the best strawberry shortcake of Franca's life today.
Those violets lasted a week before Franca accidentally grazed them while rushing to get ready one morning.
Francesca laid down, blades of grass tickling her cheek. The smell of dirt was right up in her nose, filling her lungs and soothing her mind.
"Hey Franca," Dad said. He knelt in the grass next to Francesca and put a plate and a mug down. "Spinach tomato tortellini soup- your father's, not mine. And then Daniel boiled water for tea, and this is Jasmine for you."
"Thanks," Francesca said. She closed her fingers around a fistful of grass.
"Eat," Will laughed. "Even if you want to run through the hills now that the sound of music is filling the air."
"I feel like I can breathe, Dad," Franca said. "Like... Not as if someone is holding my head underwater, because I can still breathe and walk around and move. But like... You know when you're sick but all the sick is all in your head, behind your forehead, and it's pulsing so hard you barely feel as if you're still in your body?"
"Yeah," Will smiled.
"Yeah, that's the other half of my life," Francesca said, closing her eyes and inhaling again.
Emilia wriggled in her seat, but was mostly content with the first-day-of-school celebratory pizza and managed to pay attention to Franca's rambling, to which Proud Big Siblings Danny and Cata were entertained by, and to which curious Tessa was entranced by. Not being in high school at that exact moment hit her like the biggest injustice in the world.
"It was great," Franca said. "And the play they're putting on in theater this year is Romeo and Juliet and Cata said that so many actors graduated last year that I might get lucky if I audition even if I'm a freshman. Elections for student council are next week, and everyone says I should sign on because I was good at it in middle school which is good because I really want to- and they organise dances and stuff which we never got to do last year so it'll be awesome! Oh, and the environment club is recruiting because they need all the help they can get to start this community vegetable garden behind the school. And there's a really cool-"
"You're going to be busy," Will said with a laugh.
"That's okay," Francesca said defensively. She was wearing a floral headband that kept her princess curls thrown back.
"Of course it is," Nico said. "Just don't forget, soon you'll actually have schoolwork to do on top of that."
"Oh, I know," Francesca said taking a bite of pizza. With her mouth full, "I'll manage."
"Even when Winter comes?" Will risked venturing. Francesca swallowed, as if a bowling ball was making its way down her throat.
"Yes, even when Winter comes," Francesca said defensively.
"Thank you," Francesca said. She tried not to sound miserable as she watched Catalina water the plants lining Franca's window and desk for her. "I'm sorry, I know I should be okay I know I should be doing it but…"
"We magical girls have to stick together," Cata said. "I don't care what the calendar said. If you think your Winter Blues have come early this year, I will water every plant in Boston for you."
Francesca tried to offer her a smile, Cata kissed the top of her head and wrapped her in a hug.
"Why do you think it came early?" Catalina asked.
"I don't know," Francesca said. She definitely sounded miserable that time. "I don't know, but I feel so tired and weak and sad and nauseous for no reason, so I know it's really there early…"
"I know, Franca," Catalina said. "I know, you don't need to defend yourself to me. I believe you. You're valid."
"I know," Franca said. "I know because you're an amazing sister, I'm sorry. I just… I wish it wasn't like this. I wish I could… manage it, better."
"Maybe your summer powers wouldn't be as strong if you had them all year," Cata suggested. As she spoke her eyes were randomly shifting colours- one blue and one green like an alleycat, then they were amber, next up was the lilac that Francesca liked best... Not for the first time, Francesca wondered what it would be like to be a daughter of Hecate too. Or a daughter of Athena, or Apollo, or anybody...
"Maybe," Franca said.
That got her thinking. If she had summer powers, because her mother only spent half the year tending to the flora of the world, where did that leave Winter? Persephone didn't become mortal the other half of the year…
Franca sat up in bed, curls piled high in a bun, and propped a flashlight between her cheek and shoulder. She stretched out one hand into the circle of light, making shadow puppets like when she was a little girl.
The children of Persephone at Camp Half-Blood tended to stay away from the children of Hades and the children of Demeter alike, it was just too easy to get absorbed in their drama. There'd been lots of drama when children of Persephone started being claimed at camp, about their cabin being amalgamated. But they weren't the same. And she hadn't seen Dad use his powers often, a half-blood that powerful tended to lay low when his scent would also attract monsters to his six children. But she had once.
Francesca flicked her free hand's wrist. The gesture seemed a little theatrical and silly, but the shadow puppet immediately disappeared. She gasped, checked quickly to make sure that Cata was still asleep, and turned back to the big circle of yellowish light on the wall. She clenched her hand, and the shadow returned, this time floating like spilled milk in the circle of light.
Francesca bit her lip and smiled. There we go. Winter powers.
Franca was torn when the seasons changed. She could help Papa cook again without the food tasting funny and sour and expired. But she couldn't shadow-travel to the bathroom to beat Cata to the shower anymore (which was a hilarious trick that continued to baffle her sister). She couldn't hide from Emilia by folding herself into a shadow when they played hide-and-seek. When she tripped, her shadow didn't catch her before she hit the floor.
Franca got home from school and collapsed on the couch, as exhausted as she would have been on the first day of Autumn usually. Was there no winning?
"Sweetie, I've been to med school," Will said. "I did my entire high school online in Chiron's office. I'm not saying that I'm innocent in the all-nighter department, but you're making yourself sick right now, not smarter. Sleeping is just as important as rereading lab reports to succeed in school."
Franca locked her jaw and kept typing furiously, not looking away.
"I am the one thing in life I can control," she said. "And so I will not slip."
"One night of sleep won't ruin your grades," Will said.
"Thanks Dad," Franca said. "But you're kind of distracting me right now. I'll go to bed as soon as I can."
Will stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoody.
"Okay, baby girl," Will said. "Just… Okay."
Franca had had a good day.
She had left the house wearing her best pair of jeans, a clean black shirt, and her favourite kimono. Her hair fell just right. She managed to peacefully assign a new girl to the top of the pyramid during cheer without causing a riot and aced a presentation on 1984 before lunch, which she spent pitching a Model UN trip to Principal Reekie to obtain the proper funding.
She managed to down half an egg sandwich and call to check on Malinda, who had mono, as she crossed the school to go confirm with the drama teacher that they had found the missing costumes in time for the rehearsal that night.
After that, she sat through algebra and biology (where Mrs. Kawabata handed in last week's tests- where she'd managed a solid 91%), handed in a chemistry project, ate the other half of her sandwich before going to rehearsals and nailing a scene with tricky staging.
She, Daniel and Cata (all theater kids- long story) drove back home and their arrival timed perfectly with Papa taking a lasagna out of the oven. Franca wasn't on dishes that night and so she did all her homework in the living room and helped Emilia slug through some math before watching a few episodes of Friends with the entire family.
She finally got upstairs, and crumpled on her bed.
She reached over to her nightstand and twisted the lamp to more easily wave her hand over the lightbulb. Her shadow didn't appear on the wall.
"Still?" Francesca said. "Still?"
Yeah. Still.
"How is it," Franca asked nobody in particular, "That I can have my entire life and the lives of several other people together, that I can keep several teams and clubs on track and manage to maintain hell of an average, but you still won't show up? It's Winter. You have to give me something."
This didn't bring the shadow back either.
This was a minor annoyance until the day it wasn't.
This was a rare event. Emilia's dance class had been cancelled since her teacher had fallen ill. The school theater troupe was taking a week off between last week's performances and next week, when rehearsals began again to prepare them for a state festival. Teresa was suspended and therefore at home, and Lucia had come home to keep her company instead of going to debate club.
In short, all six Solace children were at home at the exact same time. It happened often enough, but they'd all been home a very long time by now, which didn't give their collective scent a chance to dissipate. Hence (most likely), the hellhounds that had burst through the front door, the wall next to the front door, and the living room windows.
Oh, yes.
Emilia rushed downstairs with her whip, on the heels of both twins who were both who-knows how heavily armed (they were at least showing swords). Catalina's hands lit up with raspberry blue flames and Daniel's javelin sprang from his favourite homework pen. Francesca wielded a sword.
Tessa was by far the most obvious strategist. Aside from her inborn talent, she knew all their strengths and weaknesses and how to organise them. They could argue for hours over who'd put the carton back in the fridge after finishing the milk, but now they hovered around each other like planets in orbit.
Until Emilia was thrown back and she landed on her ankle.
"Emilia!" Catalina cried.
"Stay focused, we have more company!" Lucia shouted over the hellhound's bark.
"Jesus, where are they coming from?"
"I've got her!" Francesca said.
She was always the first one to duck out of a fight when things like this happened. Daniel was strong and athletic. Cata could spit out fireballs. The twins could outsmart the U.S. Military should the country get on their bad side one day. Francesca? Francesca wasn't a fighter.
She rushed to Emilia's side and threw her sister's arm over her shoulder.
"Where are we going?" Emilia asked.
"Mrs. Walter's," Francesca said. That was next door. They should be able to slip away, tell Mrs. Walter to call 911 because someone had broken into the house- something like that. Catalina could fix whatever lie Franca came up with thanks to the mist later on. It wasn't her best idea, but she needed to get Emilia away.
Then one of the hellhounds pawed Daniel and he crumpled against the ground. Worst, Francesca could tell by the bulge of his pant's leg that the prosthetic had become loose.
"Danny!" Emilia cried. It was all instinct, but it drew attention to them.
"No!" Lucia said pouncing on a hellhound, grabbing fistfuls of fur, and hauling herself atop the beast. She drove her dagger in and fell to the ground as her monstrous ride shattered into golden dust.
She landed perfectly, by far the strongest fighter among them, and caught another beast by swinging her sword. That still didn't stop the beasts from coming to Daniel while the remaining sisters were busy. That didn't-
"No!" Francesca cried. She could see the headlines, hear what Chiron would tell the campers tomorrow morning when he got the news, think of what the story would be. Boy dead, surrounded by fighting sisters. Except Francesca. Francesca wasn't fighting. Francesca could fight very little. She had no useful skill, no applicable strength or powerful card to play here.
No. That wasn't going to be how her one and only brother would die. They all would, one day. But not today.
"Shadow, come back!" Francesca shouted. She knew she sounded like a lunatic to Emilia. She settled Emilia down and raised her sword above her head.
"I'm not the one who ate the pomegranate seeds! I never agreed to any bargains! You don't get to half me! Come to me now!"
She threw her sword down into the hardwood floor. She exhaled deeply, and all the air in her body left her at once. The entire world went black for a second, though Francesca could still see red or blue or green streaks slide across her eyes like light bouncing off an oil spill. When the darkness passed, the beasts were gone. The main floor looked like a desert of golden sand. All of her siblings were kneeling around her.
"Francesca?" Cata asked shakily. "Francesca did you..?"
"I did it," Franca said. "I was in control."
She promptly passed out, but her point was made.
The door opened again and they all looked up and turned in a half second, like hyperactive meerkats. Dad looked at them long and hard and closed the door behind him. He was still wearing his scrubs from work- thankfully not bloody or anything. Papa was wearing his conference clothes- nice jeans and even a blazer. They both looked rattled.
"Other than a few patrol cars spending the night in front, we're okay. They're chalking it up to a hate crime for now," Dad said. He opened his arms and Emilia, Lucia, and Franca quickly huddled in.
"Smart," Cata said. "On account of all the gay and brownish people living here."
"Thank you, Cata," Nico said. Still, a ruffle of her hair became a gentle and repetitive brush. He slung an arm around Daniel. Tessa propped her cheek against his shoulder.
"So what happened here? Exactly?" Dad said. "Not that you need to make it exact, if it's really graphic and colourful…"
"Franca saved us," Tessa said, cutting to the chase.
"Franca?" Dad asked.
"Francesca, what happened?" Nico asked.
Franca closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, you guys. I still need a few seconds to... process it. Can we have shawarmas for supper?"
"We can have ice cream for supper if that's what you guys want," Will said shakily. "Come on, whoever wants to come pick them up, hop into my car."
Daniel, never one to waste an opportunity, profited from the dads' vulnerable state to ask if he could drive. The twins and Emilia went with. Cata said she'd help clean, which took her three seconds and a sweep of her hand which Papa gave her trouble for.
"Really, Catalina? About two hours after this house is attacked?"
Cata smiled and curtsied, but Papa made her set the table anyways while he got some ricotta cookies out of the freezer, for dessert. He stalled for a second, looking over Franca.
"Tresoro?"
"Can we talk about it later, Papa?" she asked.
"Of course," he said before heading downstairs. Francesca readjusted the headband around her head, tucking a few stray curls back and smoothing out her skirt. Then she went outside and knelt by her garden.
The dads had made it for her before Franca even remembered it, when they'd moved into the house. A little picket fence made of Popsicle sticks circled around the berry patch. Painted rocks identified her various greens: tomatoes, cucumbers, pole beans that climbed up the fence, broccoli, beets, cabbages, spinach, parsley, onions, leaf lettuce, carrots, radishes, potatoes, zucchinis, rhubarb, strawberries, blueberries, watermelons... Tiny fairy houses that she'd put there as a child still stood tall. Morning glories that she'd planted when she was ten still blossomed every morning, in blue and pink and purple. The garden was Francesca's pride and joy; she had a deal with Antwan and the children of Hermes to come back and tend it in the summer. It was organised in crates and rows and it thrived. By the end of summer, the house's grocery bill was halved. Papa spent an entire day turning her tomatoes into pasta sauce, making zucchini loaves and pickles. Francesca spent the summer bringing bowls of greens and baskets of berries to the neighbours. Her garden was legendary.
"Mom," Francesca said out loud. She never had. She made her offerings at camp but other than being claimed, past a warm breeze and a glow around her on her second day of camp... She hadn't interacted with her mother ever. For sure Papa had talked to Persephone more.
"Mom, I'm here to say hello," Francesca said. "And I hope you're doing well. Because I'm the kind of person that hopes that even for immortal goddesses who don't really need to be doing anything, really. I don't know if I get that from you, because I don't know you and my dads won't tell me about you- they don't want to be biased, I think. And that's probably alright, even if it was so hard to be so many things at once that I was nothing at all. But I think I put it together now, in a way that I don't know if you have, or if it was obvious all along, or if I'm not supposed to. I have it in me to be everything I want and need. I don't need to try so hard, I don't need to go out of my way to hold the world together, because I have a whole world in me. Life and death, light and shadow, winter and summer, loss and hope. And I'm not going to forget that."
She picked a morning glory from the trellis, and then another. One went behind her ear, and she left the other in her garden over the carrots. She watched it dissapear into the earth.
