(Posted October 24th, 2017)

Growing Pains

In which the Winter of the Black Lake occurs, and Julius brings a knife to the party

"Uggggggh." Though I didn't let go of my mouseflesh ball, I gave up fighting my mother and allowed her to drag me off my stool, away from my friends at the craft table, across the floor, out of the nursery chamber, and down the corridor by my ankle. The thumbclaws on the tips of my wings snagged on every crack in every stone. Rugburn flared the membranes with unpleasant heat. Grit soiled my neat blue tunic. I sniffed and watched the end of my nose bounce in the process. "Well, I don't see why I should have to do it. I'm far from being the one who killed her."

"Because you're scrawny, you can use a knife, you're the only one I'm willing to risk on the task, and I said so," Mother snapped.

I watched the ceiling slide by overhead. My echolocation and I had become more and more familiar with it over the last four weeks, with its coffered beams and dangling candelabras. To my mother, I said, "I'd perhaps be willing to float out there on my own if you would so much as unbind my wings."

"You brought this upon yourself, you disobedient little rascal!" Mother swung me around the next corner with little regard for the cinderstone carving of Dayfry himself I smacked against. Oof. I craned my neck as we approached the grand staircase. "And flinging yourself out a second-story window when you were suffering blood and magic loss, why- I still can't even look at you. You deserved every broken bone in your wing for that."

"I'd have preferred to break my head," I drawled as she began pulling me down the stairs. Thank Tarrow for the rug, but the back of my skull still cracked against every step. I sunk my claws into my little ball.

"Don't say such things when you know very well my dear sister Anti-Joanie lies on her deathbed! You'll have your wings tied and get along without whining like a decent anti-fairy pup."

"I don't want to be a decent anti-fairy pup." I winced as I hit the base of the staircase. Well, at least the worst was over now.

Mother's claws tightened in my ankle. She shook my leg for good measure, then pulled me over to the enormous door of polished bluestone that led outside. Her wings flapped out and withdrew as she reached for the ring to pull it open. "In all my years, I have never seen such a bratty-"

"Anti-Florensa?"

She froze with her fingers resting in the curve of the loop. I froze halfway through sitting up. Both of us twisted around to look at the statue-lined corridor to the right of the staircase that wound deeper along the Castle's main floor. Anti-Bryndin hurried towards us, clutching a fluffy black towel in his hand. The two horns that arced to either side of his head flashed in the flickering torchlight in time with his pumping wings.

He blinked as he pulled up beside us, wings scooping forward. "Why do you drag this pup on the ground?"

My mother opened her mouth, and no words came out. You can't just say, "Because I'm a terrible and abusive person and I totally thought I could behave this way throughout his entire childhood without any of the hundreds of Anti-Fairies I live with ever calling me out about it."

Anti-Bryndin nodded, as though her silence explained everything to him quite nicely, thank you, and keep the change. He picked me up, which forced Mother to drop my ankle. Then he placed me in her arms so her thick bicep cradled my square head. He handed me the ball I'd dropped and nodded again. "Don't drag pups. Carry them like this. Be nice. He is small."

"Thank you!" I cried, throwing my arms in the air. This time, I didn't fling the ball. "I say, Anti-Bryndin, you know how to run a colony."

He nodded a third time and patted the tuft of dark blue hair between my ears. "Look at him. He is small and cold and sickly and weak and sad."

"Thank you, she gets it."

"I- I-" Mother stammered. She stepped away from the door until her wings bumped into the wall. Torches hissed down at us from either side. She turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut. Her claws clenched my legs. I shifted my gaze between her and Anti-Bryndin. He still floated there with his lips pursed and head to one side. His black horns glinted again. Two fingers trailed up to the yellow button on his scarf.

"Anti-Florensa? I ask you don't drag pups by their feet. You will carry them, or they will walk, but you do not drag a pup down our stairs or anywhere inside or outside the castle. Is this okay?"

"Um." Mother didn't open her eyes, or turn her head forward. "Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin's bright eyes softened with a glimmer. Leaning forward, he took my mother's chin in his left hand and kissed her on the mouth. It was a mite weird to watch them do that above my head, but I clung to the front of my tunic and kept quiet about it.

"Please be soft," he ordered when he'd eased away. "The pups are alive now. They are not dead. They feel deep inside their souls when you hurt them. You do not have to like pups, but you should be nice."

"Yes, High Count."

We continued to look at each other. Then he raised one eyebrow. "Are you opening the door for me to go outside now?"

"Uh." Mother dropped her gaze to me, then flicked it back up to him. Shifting me against her chest, she dipped her head and reached for the metal ring on the left-hand door. She gave a tug. Polished stone rasped along polished stone as it swung inward. Anti-Bryndin took off the instant it was open, the tail of his scarf flapping between his wings. I squinted up at the sky, and Mother wedged her foot in the door to hold it open. The two of us waited until he had moved a sufficient distance away. Then she turned her glare back on me.

"Well, you had better get used to being flightless, you little whelp, because if this is the sort of behaviour you exhibit in front of the Fairies when you're older, why- you'll have one of their magic-draining suits slapped on you before your prayers reach the constellations. And in sacred red, too." Mother set me down on the floor. Or rather, she dropped me and let me find my own way there. When I was slow to pick myself up again, she grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. "Now, if you don't like it, you ought not to have ruined your pretty ears."

I puffed out my cheeks at the mention of my ears, so flawless once before and now ragged and uneven at their tips. She had me there. That bit of fluff and skin, yes, I had decided I could stand to do without. Such a small price to pay to lose the canetis rings and regain my ability to fly. A pity I hadn't recognized how even that tiny amount of blood loss would be enough to unbalance my feeble square body; oh, how desperately I wanted to grow up.

Mother had hit the figurative roof when I'd jumped through the nursery window. I'd hit the cinders solidly on my right side. Crack, went my soft little wing beneath me. It was a little miracle I hadn't made it much farther from the Castle than I did, lest I'd have plunged down through the empty moat to the Earth far below.

Stunned from my fall and twitching in pain, I hadn't precisely been in the mindset to run across the drawbridge whether or not I had the physical ability to. Mother had yanked me inside again, screaming about the difference between "magic-touched" knives which did not cause lasting damage to a magical creature and the unenchanted variety which resulted in bleeding and painful tearing. You can imagine which one I'd been unfortunate enough to saw at my eartips with.

For my dreadful punishment, Mother had taken an enchanted blade and slit both my poor wings near my shoulders, then threaded a coil of thick white rope through the punctures and allowed the membrane to seal around it. So, while I had technically dodged the fate of dealing with canetis rings in my ears, now I was stuck with my wings effectively tied together. All this without one of those magic-touched thingamabobs to pry the knot loose with, too. I didn't dare try going at my wings with an unenchanted blade. Not until I could confirm whether or not they would heal. And even then, the thought of deliberately causing myself that level of pain prompted hesitation enough.

I'd already tried sneaking into the kitchens in search of some sort of magical knife. However, Anti-Robin, the head servant there, never failed to sense me crawling about the slaughtered rabbits (separated from their paws before brought inside for obvious reasons), barrels of cheese (which I didn't much care for), open crates of salt and bread (both delicious, especially together and fried), and floppy sacks of flour. Even more meat hung from the ceiling in the cellar; we had more food in Anti-Fairy World than we knew what to do with. I'd ventured into the kitchens on eleven separate occasions since my birth, and Anti-Robin always seemed to know when I was skulking about. If I'd been at all slower, he would have zapped me into a fly and let me drop twitching to the floor, I swear…

Oh, four weeks wiser now, I had no desire to raise a plain knife to my wings and risk losing my ability to float forever. Pish posh. The very instant my struggling eyes learned how to shape squiggles into words, I planned to hit the books and deduce the way to enchant a blade myself. That should work out smashingly. As Mother pulled me across the castle drawbridge that stretched over the moat, this time by my elbow rather than my ankle, I frankly told her as much.

"You do and I'll lock you away for a month," she retorted.

"Ooh, I don't and you'll lock me away for a month. Wait a moment." I craned the area of my square body that passed as my neck in the right light. My ears twitched forward. My hand tightened around my ball. A small crowd consisting of several dozen Anti-Fairies had clustered along the edge of the sombre, black-leaved forest across the way. Though most of them dangled from the branches by their toes and chittered uncertainly with their neighbours, many more paced back and forth either on the ground or in the air. A clump of them knelt in the pebbles and ashes that littered the ground. Anti-Bryndin was among them. Aha, so that must be our destination. I wrinkled my nose. "Why didn't you just poof us out if it's so urgent?"

"The Castle has a Class 4 poof-proof hex in place for everyone but the High Count and Countess themselves, you tiny twit," she snarled. "I don't have the authority to override that. Nor do you have the magic even if you did have the authority, and I certainly don't see you offering to do me a good turn anytime soon anyhow."

I lifted the hand she wasn't holding. "Mum, please. I'm very aware of my fate as a deprrrived and sickly child. I know all about the anti-poof hex. Or the foop hex, as those in my litter have taken to calling it. I say these things only to toy around with you."

"You shouldn't use foop in place of anti-poof. That's improper for a noble and will only earn you harsh looks and snide remarks."

"I happen to like the word foop very much. What, so I'm just supposed to just say 'I anti-poofed up the whole lot of the things' every day of my life? Don't talk tosh now, woman."

She dropped my arm. I ducked, but still didn't avoid the swat of her hand on the back of my head. Mother sniffed at me without slowing her march. "You'd do far better in life if you spent less time thinking up wisecracks and more time doing what you're told."

"Such as cuddling up to a dead woman," I said flatly. I leaned away, but she snatched my wrist up again and gave it a yank. Somewhat crouching, of course, to reach my level.

"An almost-dead woman," she corrected. "Don't start going daffy. If she were dead, then she would have gone up in smoke without leaving a body behind. Remember?"

I yawned. The drawbridge changed to crushed gravel beneath my feet, then cinders and ashes. "As a matter of fact, no. Not a lot of proper learning has gone on in the bottom creche thus far. No offense, but it isn't as though you take much notice of me." I stared sullenly at my twisting wrist. My fingers wriggled. "Mum, I don't want to do this. I'm only one month old."

She glanced down. "Technically-"

"Don't 'technically' me, dear. Augustus already informed me of the custom of measuring an Anti-Fairy's age according to the Friday the 13th he was born along with the rest of his litter. However, I prefer to measure time from the moment my body and smoke united. I refer to myself as a late autumn child. Augustus said it was okay."

"Confound your goody-goody brother," she muttered.

"Muuum," I whined. We had gotten quite near the crowd by the trees, and eyes were turning in my direction. Whispers flew back and forth- "There he is", "Here they come", "Let him through". That sort of thing. My ears swivelled down. Abruptly, I stopped walking and dug in my heels. When Mother turned back, I wrapped both arms around her thick leg. "I don't want to do this. I don't know the first thing about crawling inside a pouch! You don't even let me nurse from yours. You make me suck from my bottle."

"No one pouchfeeds anymore. It's been decided that it isn't safe for members of the Unseelie Court, and so we've adjusted. Now get off."

I ground my mouseflesh ball against my hip. "So according to you, nursing isn't safe due to the risk of going smoky by association, but crawling into a dying damsel's pouch apparently is, because it's me. I see how it is."

"Get off." She peeled me from her skin by grabbing the scruff of my neck. "I didn't want to have a little snot like you, but sometimes we all have to make sacrifices for the betterment of the colony."

On that note, she plopped me down between Anti-Bryndin and the fallen Anti-Joanie. He knelt near her head, holding her motionless hand in his own. "Julius," he said, looking over at me as though this were the first time we'd ever met. "Very glad for you to be here."

I wrapped my entire body around my mother's forearm and kicked in his direction. "No! Anti-Bryndin, don't make me! I don't want to do it!"

"Give it up, you little-"

"Anti-Florensa." Anti-Bryndin pulled me away from her with soft hands despite my squirming. I went on the ground again. His dark orange eyes turned down on me. Two fingers crept up to his scarf. "Julius, you are small. It has to be you. After pups get their box shapes, fitting inside pouches does not work well anymore. Only small sick pups might try and it's still okay."

"Don't make me do it! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

Anti-Joanie convulsed. Fortunate for me, I suppose, considering that I sensed my mother's foot readying for a sharp kick at my back. When her sister jerked, she turned her attention away from me, and dropped down on Anti-Bryndin's other side. As for him, he continued to hold Anti-Joanie's wrist, but stroked my ear as I quivered and clenched my bangs.

"Please do what was asked, Julius. If you are fast, it will be okay. I will save you."

"What?" I tightened my grip on my hair with both fists. "You can't be serious. If she goes to smoke and I'm inside her, I- I'll-"

Anti-Bryndin pointed at Anti-Joanie's face. She lay very still, except for the occasional jerky twitches she made with her feet. One twisted and pawed constantly at her pouch, nimble white toes pushing the fur in the wrong direction. My mother had one hand over her mouth and the other pressed to her sister's cheek. "I will hold your foot when you go inside," he told me. "If she is going smoky, I will pull you safe. It will be very fast. That is the plan, even without her pup. Is this okay?"

"But-"

"Is this okay?" he asked. As he spoke, he took away my ball and instead placed a long white knife in my fidgeting hand. Well, it was long for me, anyway- so much so that it made me stagger. I blinked up at him.

"But I-"

"Julius." Anti-Bryndin fingered the bright yellow button on his scarf and pushed out a slightly pouting lower lip. "Please help us. Her pup must be safe. Is this okay?"

I glanced away, tightening my grip on the knife's handle. "Yes, High Count."

"Thank you. Please go now." On that note, he nudged me over to Anti-Joanie's pouch with his knee. I eyeballed it, chewing on my lower lip. Anti-Joanie kicked her leg again.

"Well?" Mother snapped, her claws caught in the whimpering damsel's hair. "The longer you delay, the riskier this rubbish gets."

My wings lifted with my shoulders. I forced them down again and focused my full attention on the thin vertical slit along Anti-Joanie's stomach. "Yes, thank you, I know."

Without another word, I pried her pouch open with my knife and crawled in. Anti-Bryndin wrapped his hand around my foot. Gentle, but steady and firm.

Everything became dark.

For being so deep, her pouch was tighter than I'd expected. My sharp cube body could hardly manoeuvre through it, even as small as I was. Mostly, I wriggled my way along by dragging myself with my elbows. Anti-Fairy pouches simply weren't made for nursing much from after birth, or at least if they had been long ago, Tarrow had allowed that trait to be nearly bred out of us over millions of years with the changing of the times. Anti-Joanie shifted around me, her muscles compressing and loosening with every squish of my corners in her flesh. A low gurgling sound echoed around my flattened ears.

There in the back of her pouch, cuddled practically against her spine, I found the pup. Smokeless. Technically not even alive, but automatically making suckling motions against her teat anyway. It wasn't very big, no. Rather, when I measured it, it was only the size of my hand, and sort of long and stringy like a bean. It hadn't even developed the layer of blubber that would become its safe square exoskeleton yet. Quite the pale shade of blue too- nearly white, as it were, like butter you might smear across a crumpet. The black scruff that would eventually form its crown had already sprouted from its head. Its hands were nubs with powerful claws, though the back legs left much to be desired for now. Keeping my movements slow, I wedged the knife against Anti-Joanie's teat and began to saw it off.

Every cut made my fingers shake. I blinked away my boiling tears, and they sizzled against my tunic when they hit. Her teat was tough and firm, and the knife wasn't moving particularly fast. Anti-Bryndin's fingers remained wrapped around my ankle. Promising, but… what if he wasn't fast enough to pull me out? What if he became distracted midway through my work? What if I accidentally slipped and my knife plunged through the pup's soft head? What if Anti-Joanie couldn't take the pain anymore and rolled over to flatten us both? True, the lack of other organs in this area of her midsection had created a deep cave that offered considerable security from jarring and jabbing, but she was already shifting and whining awfully. My ears could pick up on my mother's soothing words, but judging from the way she shifted, Anti-Joanie kept lifting her bare foot and clamping her long white toes around the bulge in her pouch that was me.

How much longer did she have left? Her pouch muscles were thick. What if she lost the strength to loosen them? What if I became stuck in here for the short remainder of my existence? What if this was all a clever trap? After all, she was Mother's sister. Perhaps they had brought their heads together and schemed a way to be rid of me for good, just to get back at me for being born so late in the season-

The knife plopped to the bottom of Anti-Joanie's pouch. I stared at it for half a second before I registered that I had finished cutting all the way through. The pup continued to suck at the severed teat for now, of course- its lips were fused on there, and would be until its official birth the first Friday the 13th of next year. I couldn't tell from its wrinkled form whether it was a damsel or a drake. Perhaps it hadn't figured that out itself.

"Anti-Bryndin?" I called, twitching at the quaver in my voice. "I got it."

"It is in your arms now?"

"Um. One moment." I stuck the blade of my knife between my fangs and clamped down hard. Then I picked up pup and teat with both hands. Neither were heavy. Once I figured that I could hold them, I gave my leg a wriggling kick. Anti-Bryndin tugged me backwards, Anti-Joanie's clenched muscles notwithstanding. My corners must have jabbed her, but apart from a low groan, she didn't protest.

Cold air touched my feet. Then my wings. Then my head. Within seconds, I was blinking at the sky again, sitting in the cinders and ashes and clutching the unborn pup to my chest.

It became the centre of attention at once. Everyone in the gathered crowd wanted to look at the rarity and coo over its colour and size. Anti-Bryndin had no such longings. He peeled both the pup and the teat from my arms after little more than a courtesy glance, and folded them together in the fluffy black towel. While he was thus occupied and the crowd pressed in around him, I positioned myself in front of my mother and crossed my arms.

"Well? Is there anything else I can assist you with while you have me out here? Come on now."

"No," she murmured without so much as twitching her ears my way. She stroked her sister's hair. "That will be all, Julius."

I tipped my crown to her and fought the urge to spit out my own fangs. "Then by all means, I wish you a very pleasant day."

Mother made a grab for a staff that wasn't there.

"Huuurts," Anti-Joanie moaned.

"Shh. There, there. I'm here. We saved it. Your pup survived. You can let go any time you're ready."

Anti-Bryndin nudged me with his foot. "Julius. The baby's mother will die now. It is a tiny one. I am going to care for it with my hands. First, we will meet. Find the great hall with me. This is time for educating pups about pup things. A very fast discussion. Go, please."

"Of course, Anti-Bryndin. You asked so politely, it would be horribly rude to refuse your invitation." I switched the knife for my ball again and scampered back across the drawbridge towards the Castle, with Anti-Bryndin floating slowly after me.

Two drakes were waiting for us at the Castle's inner doors. One was tall, wearing a red cloak around his shoulders that swept nearly to his ankles. Pink eyes. The smaller drake, long black hair falling in waves behind his neck, sprang up to pull open the right-hand door for us. Anti-Bryndin acknowledged this gesture with a nod.

"Caden, gather the youngest cohort from roosting upstairs. That is Loves, Fires, and Waters who are born. Do not worry about the other four of the zodiac who will go in the cohort, because they are not born. There are lessons for pups I will make in the great hall. Not the front camarilla dining room. Is this okay?"

Caden saluted with his free hand. "Roger that, cap'n."

He flew up the stairs, and Anti-Bryndin turned to the drake with the red cloak who had followed us inside the castle. "Anti-Buster, see Julius to the great hall. I will go to take care of the pup where there are no windows and no doors to open."

"Oh, is that his name? Anti-Buster? We always just call him-" I broke off when both Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Buster zeroed their gazes in on me. My eyes dropped to my bare white toes. I smoothed a fold down the front of my tunic and dribbled my ball against the floor. "Um. Never mind."

Anti-Buster bowed, Anti-Bryndin nodded farewell, and we parted ways. Cloak snapping at his heels, he led me along the entrance corridor, which was lined on the left side with carved cinderstone statues of famous historical figures. Tarrow's seven sons were first, of course, though out of respect, he was not depicted in any way. Not out here. Jay Rhoswen (Anti-Shylinda kneeling at his feet with her tufted tail exposed) followed them, and others, and then there were the last dozen High Counts and Countesses. The carvings of those who had preceded them must be in storage somewhere else in the Castle, I supposed. Every one of their children were present too, placed between the couple if they shared the child, or off to the side if some other parent had been involved with the birth.

The hall ended with an alcove. Set in that place of honour was the statue of an anti-swanee displaying sweeping horns and a scarf around his neck. An anti-goblin, evidenced by the small ears that ended in sharp tips, as well as the tiny circles that topped each point of her crown, held his hand. A circlet designed in a pattern of overlapping leaves rested between her ears. Letters made words on the base beneath their feet. I understood "Year", which suggested the words declared to those who actually could read exactly which year our High Count and Countess had been coronated.

No heir was present. Not yet. Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina were both young and pupless, but perhaps a royal prince would stumble into our lives any Friday the 13th. Which element of the zodiac would he fall beneath, I wondered?

Instead of turning right at the alcove to proceed deeper into the Castle, we turned left, beneath the staircase landing. Anti-Buster opened the glossy door of the great hall and waved me through. The automatic torches around the room flickered into blue life as I stepped in, though they immediately switched to purple when Anti-Buster followed me. Since I was still young enough to eat in the nursery room upstairs with the rest of my litter, and since most of my excursions to this general area of the Castle had ended with me sneaking around the kitchens, I hadn't spent considerable time in the great hall before. But as it turned out, one benefit to not skulking about with poorly-attempted sneakiness was that, for the first time, I actually had the chance to admire the active mural painted on the left-hand wall.

I had to lean my head back pretty far to see all of it, even though the image was wider than it was tall. Framed in the centre of everything was the immortal cosmic jellysweeper of fate, perhaps better known as Tarrow the Luck-Twister. His bell-shaped body was pale blue to match the Water Year, but his tentacles were Soil brown in honour of Twis since today was Tuesday. As I watched, the jelly pulsed with light to a certain point, then faded out again. Over and over. His tentacles drifted first to the left, then the right.

Above Tarrow, simplified representations of the Wise Ancients stood, sat, and sometimes paced along their allotted strip of wall. Caden had entertained those of us with canetis rings (or tied wings) with plenty of stories about how they squabbled at each other if those viewing the mural played favourites for too long.

The painting below the jellysweeper depicted the seven zodiac spirits, identical and basic in design apart from their colours, paired off with their respective partners- Saturn with his hands resting on Munn's shoulders, Sunnie embracing Twis, Winni cradling Thurmondo in his arms. They clustered in a loose semi-circle around two members from the Anti-Fairy and Fairy Refract ancestor species. Dayfry, blocky and purple, stood immediately before them to bar their way into the mesas and cliffs that cut like wrinkles across the painting of Plane 23.

Further along the mural was the story of Rhoswen and Anti-Shylinda, who of course had been taken as desperate partners in what became known as Rhoswen syndrome, and together caused the origination of the iris virus that gave we noble members of the Unseelie Court our vibrant eyes. Then Helena carrying the moon. Nearby, a lone Fairy stood beneath a pink tree with a springcase in hand. While I didn't remember her name, I vaguely remembered Augustus mentioning the tale of a young musician who had been plucked from the mortal cloudlands and brought reverently to a higher plane of existence because she amused the nature spirits. Darrell insisted such stories were all a farce and refused to have anything to do with the Zodii philosophy and traditions, which is why no one liked him, but Augustus had never lied to me before and I saw no reason why he would play games with me now on a matter like this.

Then there were others. Several dozens of different stories all displayed in brilliant colour, though the Wise Ancients were the only ones to really glow. Centred at the very bottom of the wall, nicely at my eye level, the Seven were depicted again. This time they were painted inside their different Temples, with Dayfry sitting calmly on the far-left end in a circular, hut-like building and Thurmondo weeping beneath an arch-shaped door on the far right. Each one was chained to the floor by loops of deep black paint. Saturn raged furiously, his painted figure throwing fiery orange sparks into the air whenever he rebounded off the walls, while Twis pulled against his bonds at an even, steady pace. Every time Winni jerked on his chains, Thurmondo fell to the ground. Only Munn appeared to be having a chipper day, every day. He hopped up and down and spun in circles, dancing to music only he could hear. He kept it up even when I bounced my ball against his Temple's roof.

I placed my hand inside Sunnie's square. He'd flung himself towards the ceiling as high as the chains on his wrists allowed him to reach, but when I touched the wall, he dropped back down and looked up at my fingers. As he was the representative for the Water year, I'd fast become familiar with most of the stories about him.

"I wouldn't touch their black chains, sir," Anti-Buster warned from his place by the doors. "They're painted on with inrita, which drains all Fairykind magic. Prolonged exposure would kill a Fairy. As we Anti-Fairies are comprised mainly of magic and smoke, it will instantly numb and blister your skin. And do be careful, sir. The nature spirits will perhaps bite your finger if you should taunt them. It's said that because the Blue Castle stands on sanctified vapour and this building is holy, all the murals within these walls are connected to what they depict. They will sense it and hold grudges should you choose to mock them."

"Frankly, I'm smart enough to figure that out for myself and I don't require your unskippable tutorials, Anti-Buster."

"Very good, sir."

I kept my hand where it was, even as Sunnie lost interest in me and returned to tugging at his chains. "What I'd like to know is, who's the hand who paints these things?"

"That particular mural was a gift from Mother Nature and Father Time, sir, so we might always honour those who leant their names to the days of the week."

I was just examining an image of the Grim Reaper on bended knee offering his tribute of grain to the Cycling Hen when Anti-Bryndin returned, wiping his hands down his coat. All the torches in the great hall switched to a yellow glow. I turned away from the paintings to track him with my eyes. He moved, his head and horns always bobbing, between the long, empty tables. At the end of the hall, a table with four chairs sat on a raised platform. He settled into his place in the second from the left, steepling his claws below his chin. Another mural was painted behind him, though between the dim light, my poor eyes, and the distance, I couldn't make it out in any great detail. Together, the three of us waited in silence for Caden to come downstairs with the pups born under the most recent cycle of the zodiac.

I bounced my ball against the nearer mural again. Anti-Buster cleared his throat and fixed me with a pointed stare.

"Up on my head table," Anti-Bryndin called as the pups at last trotted in, Caden on their heels. "I want to show you things. You can't see the things if you sit on the floor."

"Uh…" When I reached his end of the great hall, I had to tilt my head back. The white tablecloth appeared knitted of yarn in an intricate cobweb pattern, and the threads seemed liable to snap if I should test my weight on them. "I think we could perhaps use a boost."

The other pups peered at me over their shoulders, smirking and giggling amongst themselves as they rejoiced together in their untied wings. I looked away, my face burning, my ears longing for simple canetis rings to weigh down their tips. Well. All of them except Christine were still on the ground because their legs weren't strong enough to take off for direct flight. Until they got a bit of height to fall from, they were as grounded as I was. I had nothing to be ashamed of, did I?

Footfalls closed in immediately behind me. With a swish of cloth, Anti-Buster deposited me and three other Antis on the head table, then moved on to plucking up the other eight (Christine not included since, as an anti-brownie, she had simply flown up and landed in place herself, canetis rings notwithstanding). Once we were all in position, he walked around the table behind the chair on Anti-Bryndin's right and stood there, silent, with his arms folded behind his back. Anti-Buster also happened to be some close relation of Caden's, as I recalled; Caden bid both he and Anti-Bryndin a polite good-bye and zipped back outside for an update on the situation with Anti-Joanie.

"You're thanked," Anti-Bryndin told Anti-Buster on our behalf. I clutched my ball to my neck and tucked myself between Samuel and Electro. They glanced at me, rustling their wings, and we all looked back to the head of the table. Anti-Bryndin let his gaze wander over us, and then folded his arms. His ears twitched behind his horns.

"Anti-Joanie will die in a few minutes today."

No one had much of a response to that. Either everyone present already knew she was on her way to smoke, or no one knew quite what to say about it. Or, they had a comment to make, but they were too anxious to speak up in front of their peers. I found myself borderline in that last group.

"Her pup was removed from her," Anti-Bryndin went on. "I made contact with the Anti-Fairy Council. They learned things for me. His counterpart is a drake, so he is a drake. He is safe, and will grow up. I will raise him in my hands. His name is to be Ashley Anti-Everwish, says his mother. This is his father's family name, instead of her Anti-Lunifly, because she is dying. She does want his father to know him if they will ever meet. So, with much talk of pups, I thought it is good to tell pups like you how pups have life brought to be in them."

Ashley. That tiny, bean-like, suckling thing I'd dragged from Aunt Anti-Joanie's pouch was Ashley. Augustus had mentioned how there would be no more Friday the 13ths this year. As such, once he finished developing, Ashley would be born in a Sky litter instead of a Water one. His mum was dead and no one, not even my mother, knew much about his father apart from knowing that he didn't live with us in the Castle. Poor bloke. As his older cousin, I would have to keep an eye out for him. Perhaps Augustus would help me out with that.

Anti-Bryndin raised a finger on each hand. "There are two parts of pups. There are bodies, and then smoke. Damsels make smoke inside of them. Drakes carry bodies of pups in the pouch on their fronts, on that part of the body where your eaten food goes. These are dads. But, dads only hold pups in pouches for thirteen days. Then, mums and dads come together. Their pouches touch. Bodies of pups are put inside a mum's pouch instead. It is a very small body, and it fits inside. There are more things than this, but this is only what you should know as pups. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count," we chorused. He nodded. His horns glimmered in the light of the torches behind him.

"Dad leaves later past when he gives the pup to mum, maybe. This happens many times. Mum and Dad only sometimes stay together with a pup. There are reasons you will learn when you grow. Some of you do not know you have a dad. He left." Anti-Bryndin had kept his forefingers apart throughout this entire explanation. Now, he brought them together in front of his face. "In the Blue Castle, we can stop some leaving. This is a thing called 'marriage'. Marriage is a thing that uses rings. These rings are rested on the middle finger of your right hand, and they are colours of our lucky zodiac. When Anti-Fairies have marriage, they stay together. That is the rule of the Blue Castle. Is this okay?"

We glanced at each other. "Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin took off his first ring, which was black with a small green rock attached to it, and placed it on the table so we could examine it as we pleased. He had Anti-Buster do the same, though Anti-Buster's ring was entirely purple, and wasn't made of leather. "Making marriage starts with young pups," he said. "A litter is all Anti-Fairies born on the same Friday the 13th. Pups are always born on that day. This is our special day. But, you are of the same cohort, which is different from the litter. A cohort is like a year, but as seven." He made a circle motion with his claw. "It has pups of Love, and also pups of Leaves."

I raised my hand. "Um. So to clarify, the years that aren't Love or Leaves are still in the cohort too, yes?"

Anti-Bryndin looked at me for a puzzled second. The others around me began to snicker.

"Never mind," I mumbled, lowering my eyes. "I get it."

"The cohort is one cycle of the zodiac. It goes, Love is purple, Fire is orange, Water is light blue, Sky is dark blue and is weird for not being red but that is how the things go, Soil is brown, Breath is yellow, and Leaves is green. Those are in the cohort together. The cohort is the people in the zodiac cycle, which is all of the people, even Fairies, who are in those years. We can talk about those later. The new Love year begins a new cycle with a new cohort. Is this okay?"

"Oh. Yes, High Count. Th-thank you."

He nodded, sliding his ring onto his middle finger again. "Dads are not always in marriage to mums. We never try to tell you your birth dads. Sometimes that is hard to remember. Instead, we make with marriage. Anti-Fairies in marriage share pups. They take care of pups together even if those are not their pups. Pups of married Anti-Fairies are called brothers and sisters. They are a family, which is easy. This is science and culture. Is this okay?"

We all agreed.

"Do you like Anti-Fairies in marriage?"

We agreed again.

"I said making with marriage begins with pups. This is how. It is a Water year today. Your cohort is not finished. You still need Sky, Soil, Breath, and Leaves. The Leaves year will end, and in the spring of Love, on Naming Day evening, you will meet your marriage partners."

Electro put up his hand, but didn't wait for Anti-Bryndin to acknowledge him. "So, our partners… They are decided already? Surely then you can share with us now?"

I glanced at him sharply, but Anti-Bryndin didn't seem annoyed with his interruption. He shook his head. "You will be in the gardens. Everyone has to pick a ring from the box that will come around. The ring is wrapped so you cannot see its colour until all pups open their packet at the same time. Anti-Elina and I are on the rear balcony with our master candles, and she will tell you when. Anti-Buster, do you have the example?"

Anti-Buster reached into the correct pocket of his vest and drew out a black handkerchief, bundled up and tied shut with a braided white cord. He demonstrated how to open it for us to reveal a yellow ring inside. Anti-Bryndin took it and tapped it against the edge of the table.

"You will get a ring of a zodiac colour. Then, you will search the gardens and find an Anti-Fairy of that zodiac. This Anti-Fairy you find who is the right zodiac and has a ring colour to match your zodiac too, they are your partner. This is decided by fate. It is Tarrow's influence over us, as he twists coincidence into destiny. You will trade your rings to each other and be together betrothed, which is marriage for pups. There will be real marriage, which we will talk of when you have grown. Is this okay?"

A few voices piped up that it was, but Samuel slowly put his hand up in the air. When Anti-Bryndin looked at him, he said, "What if the first Anti-Fairy I find with my matching ring is a drake like me instead of a damsel?"

"That is fated. Drakes can be in marriage to drakes. Damsels can be in marriage to damsels. Drakes and damsels can be in marriage to each other. That does not matter. Even two Anti-Fairies who are brothers or sisters can be in marriage. Fairy marriages have kisses, but Anti-Fairy marriages do not need to have kisses; these are destined partners who will care for you as a true friend, and you will raise your pups together. Only the zodiac matters. It is fated. You do not say no against fate."

"Oh."

"Is this okay?"

This time, I raised my hand again.

"Speak, Julius."

"Can only two Anti-Fairies be in a marriage together?"

Anti-Bryndin paused. He glanced at Anti-Buster, then at me again. "For when there is betrothal of pups, yes. We can talk more another day."

"All right. So then, it stands to reason there must be an even number of pups for everyone to become betrothed as you've said. What, then, happens if there should be an odd number of us come the Love year? Or, say you cannot find the match to your ring? What if there are no matches of your ring left due to all the other potential combinations taking precedent?" What if you dropped your ring in the garden pond and had to scramble to look for it? What if the package you picked up accidentally had two rings inside it, or none at all? What if someone outright stole your ring? What if your potential partner refused you in favour of waiting for a better champion? What if-

"Then that is fated. You will not be betrothed then. If you want to be in marriage, you will have to find an Anti-Fairy who is not in marriage somewhere else when you grow up, maybe outside of the Castle."

I stared at him, white spots flickering at the edge of my vision. I swallowed. "Is this perchance why my brrrother doesn't wear a betrothal ring on his hand?"

"Augustus? Yes. He was very slow and let all others in the Love year rush ahead of him. There was no one to match with him when there were none left." Anti-Bryndin flicked up his ears. I didn't hear whatever he heard, but he and Anti-Buster both turned towards the window that led outside. He hummed in the back of his throat. "Anti-Joanie. She is very close to smoke. I will finish fast. So, that is the marriage of the Anti-Fairies. We believe in luck and we trust in fate. We do not believe in random or coincidence. There is only destiny and the knots of the yarn. We trust in Tarrow who saw our future and placed us to be born at this time. Everything is meaning. There are never accident paths crossed or wrong numbers to crystal ball or scry bowl messages. It is fated you know these people, or visit these places, or do these things. This is true even if you do not know why. Maybe you will never know, but it is still fate. These are our beliefs. This is who we are. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin glanced back at me. "Some of you do not have your parents in marriage. Maybe your dad and mum went to smoke. Maybe it's complicated. If you do not know your parents, then I am like your dad." Anti-Bryndin held his upturned palm in Anti-Buster's direction. "I become busy doing some things. If you have needs of talking to a drake who is in charge of helpfulness, talk to Anti-Buster. He will be like the other dad of you. Anti-Buster? Is this okay?"

He bowed, arms still behind his back. The red cloak fluttered as far forward as his wings and shoulders allowed. Its black, jellysweeper-shaped clasp glinted in the firelight. "As you wish, sir."

Anti-Bryndin drummed his claws against the table and looked at all of us seriously. "I like you pups, but sometimes I do not have time for you. I do busy things for all the Anti-Fairies in Anti-Fairy World, and this is all the Anti-Fairies in Hy-Brasil."

"All of them?" Harriet asked, folding back her ears. "Oh, dearie me. Is that a lot?"

Electro jabbed her with his elbow. "That is all of the Anti-Fairies who exist."

"Yes. It is many Anti-Fairies. This is because I am High Count. So, as you grow, do not talk to me sometimes, due to the part when I will be busy. Always talk to Anti-Buster first. He is called the First General like I am High Count, and he will help you. You will know his redness. He is a very good friend of me."

Anti-Buster stared at him, unblinking, as the torches crackled in the background.

"My favourite of all friends," Anti-Bryndin emphasized, reaching for his hand. Anti-Buster did not pull away, though he didn't make a gesture forward either. He was simply a blank-faced man, patient and calm as a mountain. So, with a shrug, Anti-Bryndin turned his focus back on us. "We are your dads if you have no dads. If you do have dads, then we are your extra dads. You can talk to us. But, mostly talk to Anti-Buster. I do many things, and he does less, but also others. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count."

"Then you are off." Anti-Bryndin waved to signal our dismissal before vanishing with a foop and a puff of smoke. Clearly, the Class 4 poof-proof hex did not apply to him when he didn't want it to. Anti-Buster helped us hop to the floor one by one. As the rest of my cohort raced across the great hall and into the statue corridor again, laughing and babbling, I myself made it halfway to the propped-open doors… before I paused, thought fast, and hurried all the way back to Anti-Buster's side.

"Um." I switched my mouseflesh ball to my right hand and tugged on one of the larger folds of his cloak. "Anti-Buster?"

His pink eyes flicked down to me. "May I assist you, sir?"

"Yes, I… I believe so. You see, I'm afraid I must count myself among those who don't know their own father. But you're in a sense my 'dad' now, if my understanding is correct?"

"That is indeed correct, sir."

"Then, will you play Throw with me?"

Anti-Buster straightened. "I will do my utmost to participate to your liking, sir."

So, I took a few paces back and threw the ball. Anti-Buster made no effort to catch it. It rebounded off his shoulder and crashed away somewhere in the shadows on our left.

"Excellent shot, sir."

"Oh, never mind." I retrieved my ball and went off to find Augustus with a tut of my tongue and a shake of my tied wings. Surrogate father or not, I had the dreadful feeling that such a dull, emotionless man and I would never find a way to truly get along.