“Oh!” She brightened. “That’s a good system, actually. It’ll be just like the holo table with the spy eyes!”
Cas gave me a crisp nod, which I acknowledged with a lazy salute.
“Rule Number Six. Seri will immediately alert us to any magical disturbances she senses, no matter how minor.”
“And Rule Number Six-and-a-Half,” I added, “Seri will not investigate said disturbances herself because she’s not actually a character in a horror movie who splits off from the group.”
That earned me a wadded-up piece of paper to the face.
“I’m not stupid!”
“Nope, not stupid, baby doll. Just too curious for your own good.”
“Rule Number Seven,” Cas persisted, although I could tell by the muscle jumping in his jaw that his patience was fraying. “Seri will wear the protective gear provided, including but not limited to armor and a helmet.”
“Fine, but the helmet’s getting moon stickers.” Her gray eyes bore into Cas’. “Non-negotiable, Simmy.”
“Acceptable.” Cas pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Rule Number Eight. Seri will carry emergency supplies at all times, including water, first aid kit, and iron filings.”
“In case of leprechauns.” She nodded sagely and added a sprinkle of tiny star stickers around this rule. “Although I still think we could reason with them instead of—”
“No,” we chorused again.
“You three are no fun,” she complained, but her smile never faltered as she continued decorating.
“What about rule fifteen?” I asked oh, so, innocently. “No puppy eyes to get your way when one of us says no.”
“I would never!” she gasped with scowl, then turned to Ko withexactlythe look I was describing. “Would I, Koko?”
Koa, the giant softie, just smiled.
“Every day, baby. Multiple times.”
“Rule Number Nine,” Cas said as Seri doodled little caricatures of us in the margins, stick figures with distinct features. Mine had spiky hair and was always drawn mid-eye-roll. “Seri willfollow all instructions immediately and without question during emergency situations.”
“Wait. What constitutes an emergency?”
“If we say it’s an emergency, it’s an emergency,” Ko answered before Cas could.
“So if Zane says it’s an emergency because he sees a spider—”
“Hey! That wasone time, and it was the size of my fist!”
“It was a dust bunny, Z,” Koa deadpanned.
“A demonic dust bunny! It moved against the wind.”
Seri giggled, the sound like sunshine breaking through clouds. It still caught me off guard sometimes, how easily she laughed now. When we’d first found her, she’d been so quiet, so careful, as if expecting punishment foranything. Now she decorated rulebooks with glitter and threw paper at me and teased us without flinching.
Something twisted in my chest, sharp and protective. No wonder we were all so paranoid about keeping her safe. We’d onlyjustgotten the real Seri, the one Arabesque had tried to crush.
As Cas went on, the rules grew increasingly specific, clearly inspired by scenarios he’d been worrying about.
“Rule Number Eighteen. Seri will not attempt to commune with local wildlife.”
“But what if they have information?” she protested, adorning the page with a bunny sticker.
“Rule Number Nineteen. Seri will not wander off to, and I quote, ‘just check something real quick.’ ”
