Brittany Bends (19 page)

“As an Interim Fate?” Megan asks.

“No, they’d need to change Tiffany’s and Crystal’s lives then, and Daddy didn’t advocate for them. Did he?” I peer at her.

“No,” she says. “I can’t tell you what he did to them, but they can tell you.”

“Something with Tiff’s magic,” I say, “and he kidnapped Crystal.”

“Not exactly, but yes,” Megan says. “He did something different with them than he did with you.”

“So if he didn’t advocate for them,” I say, “then nothing will change for them. Just for me.”

“What does reinstatement mean?” Megan asks.

I bite my lower lip, and shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know for sure, but it’s probably what he asked for. I’ll get my magic back and I’ll move to Mount Olympus.”

“Where you’ll do what?” Megan asks.

“Be ignored by my dad again, probably,” I say. “He just wants to win.”

“He seems genuinely concerned,” Megan says.

“For his daughter,” I say.

“Yes,” Megan says. “You.”

“No,” I say again. “
His daughter
. Someone connected to him. Not for me. He doesn’t know me. He hasn’t even really talked to me.”

Megan threads her fingers together, then taps her index fingers against her lips. “And I can’t advocate for you.”

She didn’t ask a question, but I answer her anyway.

“It’s too late,” I say. “They’ve already investigated.”

“And their decision is final?” Megan asks.

I blink hard, expecting tears. There are none. I’m still strangely calm.

“They’re the Fates,” I say. “No one can overrule them.”

“Well, that’s just wrong,” Megan says.

“Now you sound like Daddy,” I say.

She frowns at me. “No need to get insulting.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s all right.” She stands. “We need to get Rob. And we need to find your mother. She has to know what’s going on.”

I stand too, and wipe the dog hair off my jeans. The back of Megan’s pants is coated in various kinds of hair. I almost tell her, then decide there’s too much to get off without some serious roller time.

“Rob,” she calls.

“Just a second,” he says from the kitchen.

We look at each other. He emerges without any coffee. I hadn’t smelled any either.

His amazingly handsome face is scrunched into a frown. (He looks hot even when he’s frowning. Megan is
sooo
lucky.)

“We have a problem,” he says.

“I know,” Megan says. “The Fates—”

“Not the Fates,” he says. “Well, yes, the Fates, but not the way that you think.”

I don’t like his tone.

“What do you mean?” Megan asks.

“Brittany’s mom,” Rob says. “Remember when we got here, Ingrid told us their mom disappeared.”

“Yes,” Megan says.

“She literally
disappeared
. I was talking to Hilde—”

“She’s four, Rob,” Megan says dismissively.

“—
and
she kept insisting that Mommy went poof! like some character from some movie I don’t know,” he says. “I remembered what Ingrid said, so I ran a see-spell, and there it was. One minute Brittany’s mom was talking to Hilde, and the next, she had vanished, right out of the dining room. That’s what Hilde’s dolls have been discussing. That’s why Hilde wanted to talk to us. She wanted grown-ups to know.”

I let out a small breath. A see-spell recreates a moment, exactly as it happened.

“Did Hilde look at the see-spell?” I ask.

“I’m not an amateur, Miss Interim Fate,” Rob says.

“And I’m not an Interim Fate anymore,” I say.

“That was a Fate question,” he says.

I don’t like his tone. “No,” I say. “That’s a sister question. And she doesn’t know about magic.”

“She’s four,” Megan says. “Their brains are pretty elastic at that age.”

“It sounds like she’s shocked,” I say.

“She’s okay,” Megan says, but I walk past her.

Hilde’s still in the dining room, and the dolls are bouncing as they talk quietly to each other.

“Are you worried about Mom, Hilde?” I ask.

She looks up at me and then nods.

“Would it make you feel better if I go get her?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says in a tiny voice.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll do that. It might take some time, but I’ll make sure she comes home, all right?”

“K,” she says, and sets her dolls down. She slides off the bench seat and runs toward me. She body slams me with such force I almost fall backward. But I stay upright, because she’s hugging me, and she’s never hugged me like this before.

I put my hands on her tiny shoulders. She’s shaking.

I ease out of her grip and crouch.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I promise. I’ll bring her back safe.”

“Without the scary ladies?” Hilde asks.

“Without the scary ladies,” I say, mentally cursing the Fates.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re welcome,” I say, and kiss her messy hair. “I love you, Hilde.”

“Love you too, Brit,” she says. “Bring Mommy back.”

“I will, as soon as you let me go.”

She squeezes extra hard, then steps back. She gets a fierce look on her small face and glares over my shoulder. I turn slightly.

Megan and Rob are standing there, watching.

“Brit will do it,” Hilde says and there’s blame in her voice. Apparently, she thought she had asked them. “You help.”

“We will,” Megan says.

“Swear,” Hilde says.

I frown, wondering what swearing has to do with it. But Megan gives her a gentle smile.

“I swear,” Megan says.

Then Hilde nods and grabs her dolls.

“Make Mommy wake me when she gets home,” she says, and walks, proudly, into the kitchen.

I watch her go.

“The scary ladies took Mom,” I say. “They’ve been everywhere today.”

“All without leaving home,” Rob says, sounding disgusted. He never liked the Fates much. Not many mages do.

“Take me to Mom,” I say to Rob.

He claps his hands together. “To the Fates!”

And away we go.

FOURTEEN

WE ARRIVE IN the stacks. The bookshelves run from floor to ceiling. Dust motes float around us, disturbed by our arrival.

A few feet from us, a man and a woman yell at each other, their voices echoing down the rows and rows of books.

Megan grabs my arm, probably to hold me back, but I shake her off and walk to the edge of the row.

It opens into the big main room. I don’t see the Fates. Their couches are empty. Their mule slippers are lined up by end tables I hadn’t seen before, as if waiting for the Fates to return.

Daddy stands in the center of the room, his arms crossed in front of his round chest.

Mom stands only a few feet from him. She’s using the index finger of her right hand as emphasis, pointing at Daddy’s massive nose.

“You. Will. Not. Take. Her. Away. From. Me.
Again.
” Each time she says a word, she jabs at his face.

Daddy just leans back as the finger gets closer to him.

“Face it, Kathy,” he says. “You can’t take care of her.”

My breath catches. They’re talking about me. They’re arguing over me.

“Kathy?” Mom says, her voice rising. “
Kathy?
”

“Katie?” Daddy asks, sounding unperturbed.

“Are you
kidding
me?” Mom asks.

Daddy shrugs, his I-can’t-be-responsible-for-everything shrug. “You pretty blondes. You all look alike.”

Mom starts to launch herself at him, then stops. She lets her arm drop. It’s almost like she puts on her mom-self, her grown-up self. Her be-nice self.

She takes a deep breath and says in a voice that isn’t mad but isn’t calm either, “My name is Karin. I am the mother of your daughter Brittany, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten Brittany,” Daddy says, “although it’s amazing how much she looks like you.”

Mom rolls her eyes.

Megan comes up behind me and leans forward. “You might not want to watch this,” she says softly.

I ignore her. I do want to watch this. I want to see everything.

“It’s amazing how little she’s like you,” Mom says. “She’s nice and considerate and loving. And that’s all on her, since you did nothing to raise her.”

“That’s not true,” Daddy says. “I gave her the best possible care.”

“You didn’t even know her name until this summer,” Mom says.

“I—I—I did too,” Daddy says unconvincingly.

My heart sinks. Of course, he didn’t know. He didn’t care either.

“She’s
my
daughter,” Mom says. “I’ve done everything I can to raise her from far away. She’s living with me now, and she’s going to stay.”

“Not when the Fates figure out how you’re raising her,” Daddy says. “Slave labor, impersonating a mass murderer, living in a hovel—”

“Enough!” The Fates appear in front of their couches. They’re wearing black robes and those rolled wig things that British judges wear in all the movies. The wigs trail over their shoulders, and don’t seem to fit properly.

But, come to think of it, they don’t fit actors well in the movies either.

Still, Atropos’s dark hair peeks out around her wig and Lachesis has kept her red hair long. Only Clotho’s hair is completely tucked under the wig.

“We have the floor now,” Clotho says. She’s holding a gavel as well. Daddy looks at it warily.

“Brittany, Megan, Robin,” Lachesis says.

“Please join us,” Atropos finishes.

We glance at each other. My heart is pounding. I step forward. Megan’s a few steps behind me, and Rob stays at her side.

Mom lets out a huge sigh and extends her hand to me. “I was worried about you. Your father said he had no idea where you were.”

I glare at him. “Liar,” I say.

“I didn’t know,” he says. “I didn’t send you back.”

“Then how do you know I went back?” I ask.

“
Enough!”
All three Fates speak together for the second time.

“You will listen,” Clotho says, shaking the gavel at us.

Lachesis puts her hands on her hips, bunching the robe over her wrists. “Zeus has appeared before us, not as a Power nor as a father, but as an advocate.”

“A what?” Mom whispers to me.

I shake my head. I can’t explain it quickly and besides, the Fates would think it rude.

“We are duty bound to investigate the claims of any advocate,” Atropos says.

I take Mom’s hand. She glances at me, startled, then threads her fingers through mine and squeezes.

Megan and Rob hang back, and Daddy straightens, as if he’s already proud of the decision.

Clotho looks at me. “We have investigated.”

“And we are appalled,” Lachesis says.

Atropos glares at Mom. “You are raising the daughter of a man some consider to be a god. You keep her in medieval conditions.”

“What?” Mom asks.

“Making her sleep in a closet,” Clotho says.

“Forcing her to lift and lower boxes for hours,” Lachesis says.

“
What?”
Mom asks.

Megan shushes her.

I squeeze Mom’s hand, hoping she’ll be quiet. She can make the Fates even angrier and then things’ll get really bad.

Not that they’re good.

“And letting an ignorant woman display her as if she’s a trophy for a bigoted man,” Atropos says.

“Huh?” Rob mutters.

“
Doctor Faustus,”
Megan whispers. “They’re not fond of Marlowe.”

“Who is?” Rob whispers back.

“Brittany deserves better,” Clotho says.

“She has been ill-treated by both parents,” Lachesis says.

Mom makes a soft sound of dismay.

“She shall return, with her powers intact, to Mount Olympus,” Atropos says.

“And she shall be a full adult,” Clotho says.

“Beholden to no one,” Lachesis says.

Atropos raises her chin, and intones, “Our decision shall stand—”

“No!” I step forward. Megan grabs my arm. Mom hasn’t let go of my hand. “Mom hasn’t treated me badly. You’re being unfair.”

All three Fates swivel their heads so fast that their wigs go askew in the exact same direction.

“How dare you question us,” Clotho says.

“I dare because I know how the advocacy system works.” I’m standing as close as I can. I’m shaking, but I’m not scared. I hate how they’re treating Mom.