Firebird of Glass Read online

  “Control?” Gwen stopped trying to get the controller back and her brow furrowed at Ansel, like she was trying very hard to figure something out. “Henrik…”

  “Henrik’s wrapping your gift right now,” a silky voice said from the doorway.

  Ansel turned to find Kevin standing behind them with his fingers spread, but not before he saw all the tension fall away from Gwen’s face, to be replaced by a silly smile.

  “Oh,” she said, snatching the controller back from Ansel. “I wonder what he got me! It’s probably socks, oh my gosh, you should have seen him when I took him to Big Mart, waxing eloquent over the vast selection of knitted footwear.”

  “Oh, no!” Ansel said, forcing himself to laugh and lounge back on the couch, letting his face go slack. “That’s awful, because I got you socks, too. Dammit, now I’m going to have to go buy you something else!”

  Gwen punched him in the shoulder. “You don’t have to buy us gifts,” she reminded him.

  “We could make it a theme,” Ansel said, looking over his shoulder again at Kevin, who had his arms folded. How much had he heard? Robin said he was suspicious, but that meant he couldn’t tell for sure. “Kevin, you should get her socks, too.”

  “Oh my god you guys,” Gwen said, giggling. “Don’t do it. Don’t! I’ll end up being like my Aunt Mina who gets everything flamingo even though she can’t stand them because someone told someone else that she liked them, and after that it was this giant joke. I want more than socks for gifts the rest of my life, have pity!”

  Ansel took another handful of popcorn.

  Trey appeared in the door. “Tadra has fallen,” he said casually, and it was everything that Ansel could do to swallow the tasteless, dry popcorn in his mouth and not react, because Kevin was watching him so closely.

  “Do you need to translate for her, Ansel?” Kevin asked pointedly. It was like he wasn’t even trying to be subtle with his test.

  “That’s what the whiteboards are for,” Ansel said lazily. “I mean, if you need me, sure, but Gwen’s got the dungeon level coming up…”

  “Her shieldmates can assist her to bed,” Trey said nobly.

  “She’ll be fine,” Ansel insisted, taking another handful of the popcorn so he had something to do but ball his hands into fists. He wished he could turn to watch Kevin’s face, to try to decide if he’d been satisfied with Ansel’s answers, but he feared that he would betray his anger if he looked at him too long.

  Kevin followed Trey out, and Ansel breathed a silent sigh of relief. Gwen went back to playing her game as if nothing at all had happened.

  “About Henrik...” Ansel said quietly.

  “Mm-hmm,” Gwen said, her hands fast on the controller as her avatar navigated a minefield.

  Ansel knew that his opportunity had ended, at least for the moment. He had a stab of concern, wondering if Robin had been swept under again when Kevin reset the spell. Had he and Tadra lost their only ally against Cerad?

  Chapter 25

  Tadra woke to the sound of Vesta running up and down the hallway outside her room in unbridled glee, followed by the tromping of Rez and Henrik down the stairs, whooping in celebration.

  “Sorry!” Heather said, when Tadra came to the door to investigate. “Merry Christmas!”

  “It is six in the morning,” Gwen complained as she emerged from the room she shared with Henrik, rubbing her eyes.

  “Rez has been awake and begging to go down since five,” Heather said without pity. “He’s more wound up than Vesta. C’mon, let’s go and open our presents.”

  “As long as there is coffee.” Despite her grousing, Gwen seemed just as excited as the knights.

  No one asked if Tadra was feeling better, or seemed to remember her collapse the night before. She glanced cautiously back at Ansel’s door, but it was open and his room appeared to be empty. She followed Gwen and Heather down the stairs into the living room. The lights on the tree were all on, flickering in green and red and white. The rich smell of coffee was coming from the kitchen and Tadra followed her nose to find Ansel pouring cups for everyone.

  Excited? Ansel signed, making it a question with his face.

  Presents! Tadra signed back eagerly.

  Almost normal, he signed back. I remember Christmas. Real Christmas.

  Tadra knew what he meant. On the surface, it felt like his descriptions of the holiday, light-hearted and happy, everyone full of anticipation. But they both knew that the merriment was only a facade.

  Play along, she signed wryly.

  But not everything about this was pretend. She was honestly dying to give Ansel his gift. She had a gift for Kevin from their shopping trip—a clever watch of some kind that wasn’t really from Tadra in any way, as she had no funds and played no role in actually picking it out, just nodding and agreeing when the keys made suggestions. She’d found small things she knew her shieldmates would love. But for Ansel…

  I’m excited for your present, she signed at him, only wondering as she said it if he’d think she was only excited to get a gift from him, which wasn’t what she meant.

  Tadra had never given a gift before, and she was surprised by how nervous it made her. Would Ansel like it? Did he already have one? People of this world had so much stuff already, perhaps it would be basically meaningless to him. She fretted over the idea that he might not appreciate it, that it would fall short of his expectations.

  “What did she say?” Trey asked, puzzled, as if Tadra was not standing right beside him.

  “She’s excited to give presents,” Ansel said, grinning, and Tadra’s heart was warmed to know that he’d understood her exactly. How much more terrible would this whole farce be without Ansel in her corner?

  “It is a wonder, how much you can speak without words,” Trey said approvingly. He gave the sign for shieldmate; it was one of the few signs that he’d memorized.

  Tadra said it back to him, and Trey folded her into his arms affectionately. Tadra hugged him back, wishing there was some way to free him from Kevin’s influence so that she could have her brother-at-arms back in truth, not just most of him, like this.

  There was hot coffee cake being pulled from the oven by Daniella, who insisted that everyone eat a piece before they tackled presents.

  “Truly, the wait is grueling,” Trey complained. “Can we be done with the food and go right to the presents?”

  “You have at least had the luxury of enjoying this day once previously,” Henrik pointed out. “Consider how it is for your shieldmates, our very first Christmas! Do not deny us the pleasures of this ritual!”

  “It is true that I am superior in many of the ways of this world,” Trey teased.

  “Not by so much as that, shieldmate,” Rez scoffed.

  Tadra made a rude gesture with her hands that required no interpretation.

  “Is it time for presents?” Heather asked plaintively.

  By unspoken consensus, Ansel was put in charge of sitting by the tree to distribute gifts and Tadra had to remind herself several times that she shouldn’t look at him with too much fondness as he took the task with the same stoic air that he used for his more unpleasant hound-keeper duties.

  “For Henrik!” Ansel announced, handing him a sloppy, sagging present. “Tadra wrapped this one.”

  He did a good job of making sure every person had a present at hand for most of the lengthy event, spacing them out with efficiency, and if it had not been for Kevin watching over them all with his knowing smirk, it would have been an utterly lovely morning.

  The paper that had been so wondrous to her only a short few days before was ripped from the gifts without care, and it gathered in drifts all around them as they each amassed a little pile of new goods and heartfelt trinkets. She exchanged an amused look with Henrik, who was as boggled by the waste as she was. Their other shieldmates had already become accustomed to this aspect of the world.

  The package from Ansel that Tadra had wondered over for so long proved to have fingerless gl
oves in a glittery red yarn, perfect for keeping her hands warm but leaving her fingers free to sign clearly. Thank you, she signed sincerely.

  She got other gifts, from her shieldmates and their keys. They were thoughtful and kind, and gave Tadra great hope that they were, beneath Kevin’s meddling, still the kin that she remembered. Trey gave her a volume of faery tales from this world, Rez gave her a pretty string of bright beads and red feathers made of metal, and Henrik gave her a warm bathrobe.

  Heather had knitted her a long, soft scarf, Daniella gave her something called a bluetooth speaker that would make music from her phone, and Gwen gave her a small, useful-looking knife with a blade that folded invisibly into the handle. Kevin got her a fluffy white hat with matching mittens that was as impersonal as her gift for him. She refrained from pointing out that they weren’t as useful as the fingerless gloves but was shallowly glad.

  I will be warm and well-defended, she signed, and Ansel translated to peals of laughter. She signed a heart-felt thank you with each gift and received one in return for each of hers.

  Tadra watched her present for Ansel slowly appear behind the other packages as more and more of them were handed around. Then he was lifting it, and giving it a theatrical shake and Tadra felt like she must be feeling the Christmas spirit he had talked about, because her insides were fluttering with excitement and anticipation.

  It was a small art kit with a pocket sketchpad, a selection of pencils in various hardnesses, a tiny metal sharpener, a soft eraser, a short paintbrush, and a miniature pan of watercolors, all wrapped in a leather case emblazoned in gold with a bird in flight. It did not look exactly like her own firebird, with a shorter neck and a less graceful silhouette, but Tadra thought it was close enough to meet the purpose of something personal.

  Ansel met her eyes and signed a sincere thank you. I like this. A lot.

  No one else knew that you were an artist, Tadra replied, shaking her head. Privacy, she signed. Or possibly Ansel.

  Ansel shrugged as he repeated the sign to her, then added. But I like that you know.

  “What are you saying?” Kevin asked, entirely too casually. He was wearing the smart watch that Tadra had technically given him, and the scarf that Heather had made him.

  “I was saying thank you,” Ansel said, his face a careful mask of nonchalance. “Although it doesn’t look a lot like her,” he pointed out with a chuckle and he put it in the pile with his other gifts like it was no big deal, even as he signed favorite to Tadra and it fills my heart.

  Robin’s dollhouse was the big finale and they looked rather dazed by the gift. Tadra wondered how much of their reaction was an act for Kevin, and how much of it was that they were genuinely overcome by Ansel’s generosity. The price tag had been rather alarming once she had a scale for their money to measure it with.

  The keys and Trey went to the kitchen to prepare a more substantial breakfast, while the knights and Ansel began the complex task of assembling the house from the many parts. Tadra wandered between the two groups, helping where she was able and trying to keep her casual avoidance of Kevin unremarkable.

  She itched to strike him, to fight him outright, but she knew that Kevin—Cerad—had too much power over her. He would only drain her if she tried something, and it was more useful to maintain their charade.

  So she stewed inside and kept her expression faintly bored, and wished that she could hug Ansel and draw comfort from his closeness. They passed each other unremarkably, only a subtle flicker of their hand language between them when they could. Sorry. Hang on. Play along.

  Chapter 26

  Breakfast was a magnificent affair and Ansel sat across from Tadra so that he could easily translate for her. They spoke a great deal as they plowed through the pancakes and sausage and biscuits with gravy. Out loud, the conversation they had was only for the food, jovial and shallow.

  But privately, in their secret language, much more was said.

  I love gift, Ansel told her.

  You have art inside, she replied. Your heart. Your eye. Beautiful.

  You’re beautiful, he replied, somehow braver for knowing that they were talking right across the others and no one knew. Even Kevin seemed thoroughly engrossed in his meal and his conversation with Henrik. Ansel had to take a plate of bacon that Heather was handing down the table and caught only the last part of Tadra’s reaction.

  She was flushed, even the tips of her ears going pink, and had a mixture of delight and chagrin on her face. Daniella, next to her, asked if she was okay and Tadra quickly mimed taking too hot a bit of food.

  “It’s not proper breakfast gravy if it’s not served at one degree less than the temperature at the surface of the sun,” Heather sang.

  That led to a serious discussion out loud about the temperature of the sun, while Tadra silently said, You are my sun.

  Her sun, but not her key, Ansel thought achingly. If he were, he could break Kevin’s control over her. If he were, Kevin wouldn’t have any control over her.

  He cracked a joke with Rez and made himself pry his fingers off the fork he was starting to mangle in his hands.

  After breakfast, everyone helped clean up, holding their sides and complaining that they’d eaten too much. Heather took over in the kitchen to start preparing for dinner and Gwen vanished with Henrik into the media room to test her new controller.

  Tadra and Rez politely offered to assist Heather with the food, and Kevin quickly added, “I’d love to help, too.”

  Ansel concentrated on not grinding his teeth and knew it would be too obvious to throw himself into the task as well. Once the table was cleared and the dishwasher was running, he returned with everyone else to the living room, to laze on the couches complaining good-naturedly about how full he was and to enjoy his newest gifts.

  “Are you going to draw us something, Ansel?” Daniella asked.

  Ansel resisted his urge to clutch the sketchbook that Tadra had given him to his chest. He almost put his hand in an A to his lips: the sign for privacy, and the name that they had picked for him. He forced himself to smile and laugh instead. “Oh, it’s nothing to see,” he said deprecatingly. “Not much more than stick figures, really.”

  They might have politely insisted, Ansel thought, if they’d really been themselves. But like everything else, it was shrugged away, bent into a weird illusion of normalcy.

  He turned a few blank pages and listened to the voices from the kitchen. It was strange to have voices in the house other than his.

  The day dragged on like a bizarre kind of torture. Ansel and Tadra were vaguely friendly to all appearances and reassured each other in sign whenever they could.

  “What is that sign?” Kevin asked with suspicious languidness when he caught them communicating in the kitchen. “You’ve made it a lot.”

  Play along.

  “It’s just an expression,” Ansel improvised. “‘So it goes,’ kind of?”

  Tadra smiled and nodded vacuously.

  Kevin seemed convinced, and shortly after wandered out of the kitchen.

  They skipped lunch, browsing from the leftover coffee cake and platters of cheese and crackers if they were hungry. Christmas movies were interspersed with football in the media room, but Ansel couldn’t get excited about eating or entertainment. He laughed with the others, and ate dry crackers and wandered through the house flitting from task to task, feeling like the whole thing was hollow.

  He was emptying the dishwasher during a lull in the kitchen when Robin found him.

  “Merry Christmas, Meatbag,” Robin said, alighting on the windowsill above the sink.

  “Merry Christmas, Tinker Bell,” Ansel returned.

  “Any...progress?” Robin asked, glancing behind Ansel carefully.

  “It’s hard to catch anyone alone long enough,” Ansel said quietly. “And when there’s two of them, it’s like being boxed into a corner. A big, bland, everything’s-fine corner.” Like a chess game, with Kevin moving the pieces at every turn.
/>   Robin frowned. “I hesitate to blow our cover by attacking directly,” they said thoughtfully. “But I have been unsuccessful in more oblique methods of removing what he has done with them.”

  “Why doesn’t Cerad use the knights directly?” Ansel asked. “They have their own unlocked magic, can’t he just tell them to do stuff for him?”

  “The glamor he has on them is a sideways thing,” Robin said. “It’s subtle. If he ordered them to do something truly against their nature, he might lose his control altogether. It’s better for him to simply sideline them, and use Tadra’s power as he can.”

  Only days of practice kept Ansel from clenching a fist or punching the counter. It was infuriating that Cerad had power, but it was worse that it was Tadra’s power. There was nothing Ansel could do about it, and he wasn’t sure that anything had ever made him so angry.

  Robin hissed in warning and when Ansel turned, he had managed to scrub his emotions from his face. “Kevin,” he greeted. “Heather. Cute Santa apron.”

  “That bird isn’t going to cook itself,” Heather said merrily. “Want to give me a hand stuffing a turkey?”

  Ansel thought grimly that he’d love to, but that Kevin would probably put up a fight. Beside him, Robin snorted with laughter, as if they had followed Ansel’s thought.

  “I’d love to,” Ansel said brightly. “Have baster, will broil!”

  He didn’t have another chance to talk with Robin alone that day.

  Dinner ran late and was as false as breakfast had been, as false as everything since the knights had returned with Robin and the keys. Ansel excused himself afterwards and went to his room shortly after dessert, citing the early morning and the pending tryptophan coma.

  He sank down at the edge of his bed, but didn’t lie down. He missed the dogs.

  They had crowded him and stolen the comforters, Vesta had chewed a hole in one of his pillows, and Fabio could fart to make his eyes water, but there was something comforting about their aliveness and their dumb interest in everything.