Clayton was rubbing his forehead and making a mental note to make sure Merry stopped watching commercials from the Real when he realized that Holly was still standing where they’d portaled in.
She was staring down at something in her hand, and a tear was rolling slowly down one cheek.
“What’s wrong, love?” Clayton went to her and held out an arm. She looked like she needed a hug, but he wouldn’t force it on her. He would, however, make sure she knew the option was there.
Holly leaned into his arm, and Clayton wrapped it around her securely. She held up a piece of old parchment paper, and Clayton recognized the neat, old-fashioned cursive writing on the page at once.
It read:
Cousin,
I will be here for you when you need aid. Come to me when you are ready to learn more about your people.
It was from the elusive Boston chapter house brownie.
“That was very thoughtful of her,” Clayton said. “I’d been planning to find a way to ask the chapter house brownie if she could help you, but it looks like I needn’t have worried.” He gave Holly a peck on the top of her head. “Brownies are very protective of their own kind, so she meant what she said in the letter. She’ll help you in whatever way you need.”
“What’s her name?”
“She never told me. Brownies are protective of their privacy to the extreme. I’ve never seen her or talked to her in person, but I still consider her a friend. She’s saved my life many times by giving me spell patches when I needed them.”
“So she’s nice?”
“I think so, yes. I have a feeling you’re going to get to know her far better than I ever will.”
Holly gave him a hesitant smile and nodded. “Can you take me with you the next time you go to work?”
“Of course, love. I think my kitchen would become a danger zone if I didn’t.”
Holly laughed. “Don’t let Mal hear you say that, or he won’t let you go back.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you want muffins? I never got to give Samantha the muffins I made for everyone.”
“Yes, but I want the recipe.”
Holly had gotten in the habit of asking for the recipe any time anyone made food. Even Grampy. She claimed that she wanted to experiment with weaponizing them.
“I’ll show you how to make them any time you want,” Clayton promised.
Holly hurried toward the boat, grabbing Merry and hauling her away from Mal, who’d been desperately trying to explain that magical unicorns couldn’t get hemorrhoids.
When Merry was out of earshot, Mal asked seriously, “What are hemorrhoids, and how do I tell if a unicorn has them?”
Clayton gazed at his slightly-too-large lover, and his heart gave a little flip-flop. “Shut up and kiss me, idiot.”
Mal’s night-black eyes swirled as he obeyed, and the world around them faded away until it was only Mal and Clayton, alone in a little pocket world.
“We’re going to be okay, aren't we?” Clayton asked. “As parents, and, well, everything else?”
“We’re gonna be great, Red.”
Dark tentacles rose from Mal’s body and began to twine around Clayton possessively.
“Don’t ruin my clothes,” Clayton gasped as Mal slid a tentacle under his shirt.
Clayton’s clothes went blurry and then vanished completely.
“Those better not be gone for good,” Clayton managed to grumble before Mal kissed him, effectively silencing him.
