LGBT friendly children’s story (part 2) (Patreon)

The firefighter held Dakota close as they backed down the ladder to the truck below. The whole roof had collapsed, leaving only the tiny space where Dakota had huddled next to the brick chimney. Below, the whole street was illuminated by the strobing lights of fire trucks and police cars and his whole family stood on the street in their night clothes.

All his neighbors were also watching, some from the street and some from their windows. Mrs. Garcia in her florescent pink nightgown with green flowers waved her hands at a police officer and Mr. Wilson had three of his children clinging to him like in a picture of a mother opossum Dakota had seen in his science book.

Sir Knight was barking, his tail high with worry as he tried to dart around a police officer. “I’m okay, boy. I’m here!” Dakota called.

Sir Knight paused and then started shouting at him. “Get down here right now. I can’t even trust you to sleep by yourself if you’re going to choose a den under a collapsed roof!”

Dakota would have defended his choice to sleep in the attic, but too many people were looking at him. Instead he talked like he’d heard other people talk to dogs. “Stay, boy. Calm down. Stay.”

“Don’t ‘stay’ at me, young foolish goat!” Sir Knight yelled back. At least Dakota had won the argument about being a sheep or a goat. Sir Knight was so angry that he hopped in place, his legs stiff with fury and worry. It felt good to know that someone worried about him, but Dakota hoped Sir Knight didn’t get so worried that he bit someone. Sometimes dogs weren’t rational when they got scared or angry.

His family was all watching from the other side of the road. Aunt Anita clutched Uncle Norbert’s hand and all three of his cousins stared with wide eyes.

“Watch your feet,” the firefighter said as he helped Dakota off the ladder and onto the top of the fire truck. Dakota let the rescuers help him off the truck and then out of the safety harness they’d fastened around him.

Now Dakota could hear his family. “But what about my stuff?” Bob demanded. “I need my stuff. Is anyone going to replace the stuff that got ruined?”

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about whether mom and dad have enough insurance to cover the damage?” Ada asked.

“I just want to get my stuff. That doesn’t have anything to do with the insurance. My stuff is in there,” Bob wailed. He probably wanted his shoes.

“Let’s get you checked out, Buddy,” the firefighter said as he escorted Dakota to the back of a waiting ambulance. A woman with a kind smile wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm, and the man next to her started writing on a fancy, metal clipboard.

“Do you want us to go get your parents?” the man asked. He glanced over to where Uncle Norbert and Aunt Anita waited.

“No thank you,” Dakota said softly. He didn’t know what else to say. He had never been good at talking to people. Luckily Sir Knight saved him from having to think of the right words. He darted around the officers and skidded to a halt at the back of the ambulance where he shouted with worry.

“You could have been killed!”

The man with the clipboard yelped and jumped into the back of the ambulance. “Dog!” he shouted, which seemed unnecessary.

“I’m fine,” Dakota promised as he held out his hand. Sir Knight pressed against his knees and let his tail droop.

“You worried me. You shouldn’t worry me. If you’re going to have roofs collapse on your head, I insist on sleeping with you. That wouldn’t have happened if I had been there. I’m an ancient and noble breed of protector, so I know how to protect my herd.”

Dakota scratched Sir Knight behind the ear and didn’t point out that the roof would have just collapsed on both of them. Being an ancient and noble breed did not make a dog an expert in falling roofs.

“That’s a big dog you have,” the woman taking his blood pressure said.

“This is Sir Knight.”

“Good name. Now, can you tell me if you hurt anywhere?” Dakota answered her questions, and the man with the clipboard wrote notes without coming back out of the ambulance. They asked so many questions that most of the neighbors went back into their houses—except for Mrs. Garcia who waved her arms around and shouted in three different languages, but neither her shouting or her florescent nightgown could get the police officers to let her into her house. It was right next door and part of her roof had collapsed too.

“You wait here,” the woman said as she patted him on the leg.

“I’ll make sure he does,” Sir Knight said. He couldn’t always understand other people, but he knew the word ‘wait.’ However, the woman didn’t react, so Dakota assumed she only heard his whines and woofs.

When Dakota searched for his aunt and uncle, he found them standing under a street lamp farther down the cordoned off street. They were in an island of light with the well-dressed couple who Dakota had seen earlier. Only now the woman’s clothing was loose and rumpled and the man had his t-shirt on backward so the tag stuck out of the neck of the shirt just under his chin.

Dakota held his breath. He felt like the air had grown so heavy that breathing had become a chore. All four stood close, and for the first time, Dakota realized his uncle had the same tall, lanky build as the well-dressed couple, only it was harder to tell because his uncle oversized sweaters. But when he stood next to the other couple, he could see it.

“I wish I could hear them,” Dakota whispered. The wind grew stronger, whipping his hair back from his face and bringing voices to him.

“This is your fault,” Aunt Anita said, her voice a hiss.

“Anita, enough,” Uncle Norbert whispered. Despite that, Dakota could hear him clearly.

His aunt huffed, and the four adults stared at each other, ignoring the police officers and emergency personnel who still walked the darkened street outside the circle of light formed by the street lamp.

“We don’t need this trouble. You should go away and let us figure out what we’re going to do now,” Uncle Norbert said.

“But we can’t leave him with you,” the formerly well-dressed man with the backward t-shirt said.

“That’s not what you said ten years ago,” Uncle Norbert said furiously. Dakota shivered. He’d never heard his uncle angry like that. Sure, sometimes he shouted, like when Cyril had thrown out all the meat in the house because he wanted everyone to become a vegetarian. Uncle Norbert had shouted about how twice as many animals would die now because they would have to replace the meat. Uncle Norbert only stopped shouting when Cyril started to cry.

But this was a quiet sort of anger that made Dakota want to crawl up into his attic and hide. Not that he had an attic anymore.

“Norbert,” the formerly well-dressed woman said wearily.

“Mildred,” his uncle returned in the exact same tone.

“How did you even know to come?” Aunt Anita demanded.

“Do you really have to ask?” Mildred looked down her nose at Aunt Anita even though she was only a few inches taller.

“Let’s be civil,” the man with her said. “Maybe we could help you with the house.”

“Help us? When have you ever cared about helping me and my family?” Norbert demanded.

“Let’s be calm,” Aunt Anita said with a quiver in her voice. “Think about the roof. I know we don’t want them around, but if this is a problem that comes from their sort, don’t you think they have an obligation to at least pay for what’s happened?”

“We can do that,” the man said eagerly.

“And what will you want in return?” Uncle crossed his arms and glared at the couple.

“Nothing that isn’t ours,” Mildred said.

Without answering, Uncle Norbert caught Aunt Anita by the arm and pulled her away. He didn’t stop pulling until they stood near Dakota’s three cousins. Dakota couldn’t hear them anymore, but he could tell from Aunt Anita’s gestures that she was urging them to move faster, hustling them over to Dakota. Uncle Norbert led the charge and Aunt Anita made sure the cousins didn’t fall behind.

“Hey, kiddo, if the paramedics are willing to let you go, we’re going to go find a hotel?”

“Can Sir Knight come?” Dakota asked, scratching behind a black, fluffy ear.

“No!” His whole family shouted at once.

“Rude,” Sir Knight muttered in a huff. “I wouldn’t want to come if it wasn’t for the fact that none of you can be trusted with the physical safety of a flock.”

“Can we at least get clothes before we leave?” Dakota asked. He was in Bob’s old striped pajamas and he didn’t think the elastic at the waist would last much longer. And his feet were cold.

“We can get you guys checked in, and then I’ll go buy some clothes, how about that?” Uncle Norbert offered. He was in blue pajamas with fuzzy slippers that used to belong to Aunt Anita before all the leopard print fur had gotten matted down flat.

“I don’t want to go to a hotel,” Ada said as she stomped a bare foot against the pavement. “I have a test tomorrow, and I want to sleep in my own bed. My bedroom wasn’t ruined.”

“Ours either,” Bob said. “We could sleep in our beds. It’s only Dakota’s bed that got ruined.”

“We’re going to a hotel!” Uncle Norbert shouted. He and Aunt Anita looked at each other darkly, and Dakota turned to see if the couple still stood in the island of light, but they were gone. Two police officers stood there, coffees in hand as they watched the scene.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Dakota woke before anyone else in the hotel room. In the middle of the night, Ada had decided she didn’t want to share a bed with him, so she had pushed him out onto the floor, and the floor wasn’t very comfortable, especially since she had curled around all the hotel pillows, ignoring him when he tried to pull one away.

His mouth was dry, so Dakota went to the bathroom, but the tap water didn’t taste right, not that Chicago tap water ever tasted especially good. But this was worse than normal. Maybe ice would make it taste better.

He went to get ice from the bucket Aunt Anita had filled for them last night, but the ice in the bucket had turned into murky water. Dakota wrapped a hotel robe around himself and prepared to venture out in search of the hotel ice machine. The white robe dragged on the ground, but he carefully searched for the key card. He slipped it into a pocket before he crept out of the room.

Despite the early hour, the hallway was bedlam. A large man pushed a cart with brass rails, yelling “Excuse me” seconds before he rammed other people’s luggage with his cart. A man shouted back at him, and Dakota slipped away from the conflict. He followed the signs that offered ice and vending machines to the right.

He was about to turn the corner when his uncle’s voice stopped him. “—know what it’s like,” he said. That didn’t make much sense, but Dakota pressed himself against the wall and listened.

Aunt Anita said, “The boy might have caused that roof to collapse.”

“I haven’t seen any magic around him.”

Magic? Dakota pressed himself against the wall.

“Have you seen any?” Uncle Norbert asked.

“I have my hands full with three children of my own. I don’t have time to watch a fourth. Besides, they said he didn’t have power. That’s why we had to take him in.”

“They’re people. People make mistakes,” Uncle Norbert said. “On the other hand, my sister hasn’t made a mistake in her entire life.”

“Your sister hasn’t done one thing right in her whole miserable life. Your parents haven’t, either.”

The only grandparents Dakota knew weren’t really his grandparents at all. They were Aunt Anita’s parents who showed up every Christmas with red pork tamales and champurrado. Uncle Norbert said his parents were long gone.

A family with a pair of little dogs on long leashes came past. “I’ll eat your face. I’ll chew your ankle down to the bone. Watch me. I’m vicious. I’m a killer,” the smallest one—a white fluff ball on a pink leash snarled as his owner pulled him down the corridor. “A killer!” he insisted as he turned the corner with his family.

Dakota turned back around, and his aunt and uncle stood in front of him.

“Good morning,” Dakota said. Aunt Anita pressed her lips into a thin line. Dakota held up the ice bucket. “Have you found the ice machine?”

Uncle Norbert sighed and took the bucket.

“You need to go back to the room.” Aunt Anita ushered him toward the room. “You kids are going to school today, and I don’t want to hear any fighting over that bathroom. I’ll take my slipper to all your backsides if—” She stopped mid-word. Confused, Dakota looked down the hallway in the direction she was staring.

“Norbert!” she yelled at about the same time that Dakota spotted the man in the gray suit. He was older than the two people from the night before, but he had the same dignified air, like a model who had escaped a photo shoot and was now condemned to lean against walls and looked artfully bored and superior.

Uncle Norbert stomped past, thrusting the full ice bucket in Aunt Anita’s direction as he passed. “What do you want?” He was almost to the man when the man twitched and vanished—leaving behind the paisley yellow wallpaper.

Aunt Anita squeaked and threw her hand across Dakota’s eyes the way she sometimes did if Cyril walked in when Ada was watching an R-rated movie. At sixteen, she was allowed to watch those movies, but the rest of them weren’t. Technically. Aunt Anita often forgot to cover Dakota’s eyes when he walked in on his cousin.

But there wasn’t any fake blood or an alien weapon to protect him from. There wasn’t anything interesting except the disappearing man.

“Get the children packed,” uncle said as he whirled around.

Aunt Anita thrust the ice bucket at Dakota and took off down the hallway.

“Uncle Norbert?” Dakota asked. His uncle hurried after his aunt and Dakota was left standing in the hotel corridor. A breeze caught Dakota’s attention, and he turned to see a woman with pure white hair at the far end of the hall.

He turned and ran after his aunt and uncle.

In no time, Aunt Anita had all the cousins up and shoved into the cheap clothing Uncle Norbert had bought from a twenty-four hour store the night before. They almost left Dakota behind in the elevator as they hurried out, but Uncle Norbert came back and caught him by the arm, pulling him so that Dakota had trouble keeping up. He was the youngest, and his legs were shorter.

“Open the door,” Aunt Anita said as she stood by the passenger side of their Dodge sedan.

“Make Dakota sit up front,” Cyril said. “He always pokes me with his elbows.”

“He’s too big for the front,” Aunt Anita said before Dakota could protest that he hadn’t poked anyone. With the three cousins on the bench seat, there hadn’t been room for him, and he’d ended up on the floor of the backseat and Cyril had kicked him at least a dozen times. It hurt, and the fact that Cyril had apologized each time hadn’t made it hurt any less.

Uncle Norbert had his keys in the lock when the man from the night before walked out from behind a tree, his shirt on the right way, this time. “Norbert,” he said.

Uncle Norbert pointed a finger at the new arrival. “No!” he said firmly. “I’m taking my family away.”

“We can’t go away! I have school!” Ada exclaimed.

“I don’t have my stuff,” Bob wailed. He never liked waking up in the morning, and he’d been cranky since his mother had forced him out of the hotel room with a worn fuzzy slipper in hand.

Cyril just leaned against the car and sighed.

“Norbert, you have to understand.”

“Stay out of my life, Chester. Stay away from my children, stay away from my wife, and stay away from Dakota.”

Chester. Dakota filed that name away alongside Mildred. They were strange names, but they fit with Norbert and maybe Cyril. Cyril was more like Ada and Dakota, though. They were odd names, but not the sort of names grandparents had.

“Kids, get in the car,” Uncle Norbert said.

POP… hiss…. One of the tires went flat. His uncle glared at the tire before turning his fury on Chester. “I have a spare.” He gritted his teeth.

POP… hiss… Another tire went flat. “Stop it!” Uncle Norbert yelled as if Chester was to blame for the tires. A family of four getting into their own car two rows over stopped to look at them before the parents hurried their kids into the relative safety of their car.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” Uncle Norbert said.

Aunt Anita moved to Norbert’s side. “Norbert, we can’t afford to have more tires popped. We already have the extra cost of the hotel and I don’t know how we’re going to pay for the roof.”

Chester took a step closer. “I can help with that,” he said, smiling so bright that his eyes sparkled like gems and the outer corners crinkled.

“We don’t want your help,” Uncle Norbert said.

Chester pulled a red stone out of his pocket, and Uncle Norbert made a strange noise like he had a chicken bone caught in his throat.

“But we’re responsible for the boy.” Chester said, his smile undimmed. With his free hand, he pulled out a small stack of money. This time Aunt Anita made a sound like a mouse with its tail caught in a trap, and Bob gasped loudly. “For you,” Chester said. He thrust its money at Uncle Norbert with enough force that his uncle stumbled back, catching the money before it could flutter to the ground.

“So, I hear you’re called Dakota,” Chester said. He held out a small packet wrapped in gold foil. “Happy Verdant.”

Dakota tucked his hands behind his back to avoid the temptation. “Verdant? Is that a holiday, like Christmas?” Dakota knew there were different sorts of holidays. One of his classmates celebrated Holi and had amazing pictures on his phone and another didn’t eat at school during a whole month because she was honoring God.

Chester frowned. “Not really. It’s not a religious day. It’s sort of an anniversary.”

“I’m not married, so I don’t have those yet,” Dakota explained. He was fairly sure that this man meant another sort of anniversary, but it never hurt to explain clearly.

“No, not that sort…” Chester let his voice trail off.

“You show up ten years ago with a story about how we have to take him in, and now you show up to take him back.”

“The money,” Aunt Anita said, reaching out with shaking hands.

Uncle Norbert gave her the cash without taking his eyes off Chester. “You people are all the same. You think that if you apologize and explain your stupid rules, that it makes anything better. How is abandoning a child ever forgivable? I would never abandon my children.” Uncle Norbert was all angles and elbows as he advanced in Chester, but Chester slid to the side with inhuman grace before appearing on Uncle Norbert’s other side and offering Dakota the wrapped gift again.

“Verdant is like a birthday, only the birthday of trees and flowers because they’re all born in spring,” he explained.

Dakota pressed himself to Aunt Anita’s side, but she stepped back, leaving him standing close to the car, which was leaning on two flat tires. “Oh,” Dakota said, which didn’t feel like a particularly smart or articulate answer.

“Go on,” Chester said, holding out the package.

“Norbert,” Aunt Anita said, “the children and I will wait in the car. Deal with this.” She herded the cousins into the car, Ada slipping into the front when her mother was focused on getting the boys into the back. Apparently they didn’t want to miss the show. Dakota tried to make himself invisible, but the man gave him an odd look.

“Come on,” Uncle Norbert said, settling his hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “Let’s talk under the bus awning.”

Chester looked at the bus awning as though that was the most disgusting suggestion in the history of suggestions. More disgusting than throwing up after eating too much raspberry ice cream. More disgusting than Kenny Littlefield falling off the monkey bars and breaking his arm so that it bent too many times. Seeing that had almost made Dakota throw up, and that’s the expression Chester had on his face now. “Fine,” he eventually said, although he didn’t look fine.

Uncle Norbert led the way to the black trimmed structure with plexiglass sides.

“So, what have you told the boy?” Chester asked.

“Nothing.”

“What?” snapped Chester who glared at Uncle Norbert until he shrank back against the side of the structure. “You should have told him something.”

“Why? So he could know what he would never have?” Uncle Norbert shot back. “I wanted him to be happy.”

Dakota watched the two men, but he wasn’t prepared for Chester to sit on the bench and focus on him. “Are you happy?” Chester asked.

Dakota had answers prepared for questions like that—answers he’d polished until they were smooth like the polished rocks Cyril collected. Only his mouth offered answers before Dakota could stop it. “I’m okay being ignored. It’s easy to slip between people in the house and exist on the edges of the family.” Dakota slapped a hand over his mouth to keep more words from spilling out, and Uncle Norbert turned pale as a snow.

Chester looked pleased. “Even more reason for you to come with me. You’ll be very happy in your new home.”

Horror sunk into Dakota’s bones, and he looked to Uncle Norbert for protection. Uncle Norbert wilted, leaned against the side of the bus shelter and rubbed his face. “Are you sure? That could have been someone else’s magic. He may not have inherited your magic.”

Inherited. A thousand questions exploded in Dakota’s head like the Fourth of July, making it hard to think. Dakota studied Chester. He was taller than Uncle Norbert who was the tallest person Dakota knew, and he had light hair that straddled the border between light brown and blond. In fact, it looked a lot like Dakota’s hair, although Dakota always cut his own hair giving it an uneven and moth-eaten appearance while Chester’s was styled as carefully as his gray suit.

“We were wrong.”

“Wrong? That’s the best apology you can offer?”

“You know the law,” Chester said with a hint of whine in his throat.

“The law. Your precious law. Dakota and I would both be better off if you went away and stayed away.”

Dakota flinched away from the adults’ anger. Dakota backed away toward the hotel parking lot, but surprisingly, Chester’s gaze followed him.

Dakota wanted to escape. He wrapped that feeling around him until it clung to his skin, making him shiver. Chester’s eyes grew wide and the air grew warm before the tree next to the bus stop crashed to the ground, the trunk slamming into the ground with enough force that Dakota fell on his butt.

“This is all your fault,” Uncle Norbert said, poking a finger at Chester. Chester didn’t say anything. He just looked at Dakota.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Aunt Anita had taken his cousins home, and Dakota sat in the dark cafe with Chester on one side, Uncle Norbert on the other and a woman who had introduced herself as Bena Salvi sitting across from him. She had short graying hair in tight curls and a huge hooked nose with tiny gold-rimmed glasses perched on it. But what captured Dakota’s attention was her hand. It rested on the table, impossibly long fingers like spider legs restlessly tapping against the wood. She had a ring that looked like a tiny ballerina with a gold leash that danced up and down the back of her finger.

That was even more interesting than her green sweater with pink polka dots or the way the butterfly clip in her hair kept fluttering its wings and shifting from green to violet to pink to white.

Uncle Norbert gave Chester a dirty look. “This is your fault.” Those were the first words any of them had spoken since Ms. Salvi had introduced herself as a worker from the Magical Mishaps division of the Agency for Prosaic Protection.

“It was his magic. That’s why he has to come home with me.”

“Magic?” Dakota asked. He looked around the empty cafe, which seemed mostly normal. Then a wizened old man took a crystal out of his pocket and set it in the middle of the table before a flame burst up out of it. He took a marshmallow and impaled it on a fork before toasting it over the open fire.

“Yes, magic,” Ms. Salvi said. She turned to Chester. “Mr. Dromos, maybe you should explain.”

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “You really don’t know what you are?” he asked Dakota.

“You said he wasn’t magical,” Uncle Norbert said smugly.

“And what did you tell him about his family? His parents?”

“That he was better off not knowing,” Uncle Norbert snarled.

Chester pressed his lips together, and when he spoke again, his voice was clipped and angry. “You are magical, Dakota. Only when you were born, the doctors said you didn’t have any magic. Only we felt your magic.”

“The roof? Was that my fault?” Dakota asked. He didn’t like the idea that he had made the roof collapse by accident, but he did like the idea of being magical. If he had magic, maybe someone would notice him. He wondered if he could make a fire from a crystal like the man who was now eating his charred marshmallow.

Uncle Norbert huffed, but Ms. Salvi said, “Yes.” She glared at Uncle Norbert over her glasses, and a cold chill filled the air.

“What does it mean to be magical?” Dakota asked.

“It means you need to learn to control your magic,” Ms. Salvi said. “We cannot have a young mage uprooting trees all over Chicago. There are laws against that, and the trees are likely to object to the abuse.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it,” Dakota offered.

“I know,” Ms. Salvi said. She patted his arm.

“If he’s magical, why did you drop him off at my house ten years ago?” Uncle Norbert demanded.

“His magic might have shown up a little late, but we’re his family,” Chester said. Dakota crossed his fingers under the table. It sounded like maybe he had family other than Uncle Norbert and Aunt Anita and they hadn’t been able to keep him because he didn’t have magic.

“A family of freaks,” Uncle Norbert said in the most hateful voice Dakota had ever heard him say.

Chester sat up taller. “There’s nothing wrong with being a mage. I’m a mage. His mother is a mage. His brother is a mage, and so is he. Stop trying to turn him into something boring and plain and invisible. I should have known you’d do that. Mildred said you were a good man, but I never wanted to leave him with you. I have cousins, you know. We could have taken him to New Mexico to live there.”

“My brother?” Dakota asked in a whisper. He felt like the world wobbled under his feet. He had a brother. He’d always known he had parents, although he had thought they were dead or they’d abandoned him or something terrible had happened, but his fantasies had never included a brother.

“It’s best you tell him the whole story,” Ms. Salvi said.

Dakota turned to Chester, but instead of giving an answer, he went quiet and paled.

Ms. Salvi sighed. “I suppose I should start with the law. Our world is dangerous for people who don’t have magic. You might get locked in a room that won’t let you out if you don’t have magic to work the doorknob. A staircase could trap you or a book could bite you or a sprite could stalk you and you wouldn’t notice because you were blind to the magic. That’s why the law says that if a child is born without magic, he or she has to move to the prosaic world.”

As she talked, Dakota had a flash of memory. A staircase turned into a slide under his feet. He remembered falling and falling and a childish laugh as Dakota had screamed in fear as a pit opened at the bottom of the slide.

He blinked to clear the memory and Ms. Salvi watched him sadly.  “Prosaic?” he asked.

“Merlin, May, and all the mages,” Chester exclaimed. “You couldn’t even bother to tell him that? Dakota, the world is divided into the prosaic world without magic and our world, the world mages live in. And now is the best time to rejoin the magical world. Why, we’re still in Verdant, and every child likes to declare for Merlin. It’s a great game, Dakota. You announce to magic that you want to hold Merlin’s sword, and then you get challenges and gifts all year long. It’s wonderful. I pledged every year I was in school. Of course, no one ever gets the sword, but that’s not the point. It’s wonderful fun. You know, I left you some letters telling you all about it, but it doesn’t sound like you got any of them.” Chester glared at Uncle Norbert.

“Don’t you try to tell me how I should have raised him. You threw him out of your world the same as my parents threw me out,” Uncle Norbert snarled. “The magical world isn’t good for much of anything except tearing families apart.”

“This is not productive,” Ms. Salvi said in a voice Dakota recognized from his teachers. It usually meant someone was about to get a detention, but he didn’t know if adults could give other adults detention like that. She turned to Dakota. “It’s not safe for you to live in the prosaic world, so Mr. Dromos is going to take you home. Now that you have magic, you will live with him.” So she was a social worker. Dakota knew about them from school, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to move. He knew how to live with his aunt and uncle. He knew to hide before. His cousins ran out of people to blame. He knew what tone of voice meant Aunt Anita was threatening to hit someone with a slipper and which meant she was about to swing. He knew lots of stuff about living at home. He looked at Uncle Norbert to see if he would object to Dakota being taken away.

All he did was scoff.

“Is there anything you need to get at your house?” she asked.

“The police said we couldn’t go back because the roof collapsed,” Dakota said.

“We have our ways,” Ms. Salvi said with a wink.

“I have clothes and some comics and my dog,” Dakota said. He didn’t care much about the first two, but he wasn’t leaving Sir Knight behind. Maybe Aunt Anita wouldn’t let Sir Knight into the house, but Dakota suspected these people had a house large enough for Sir Knight, even when he sprawled out.

“I’m so sorry, Sport,” Chester said, “but just like it’s dangerous for people who don’t have magic to live in our world, it’s dangerous for prosaic pets. But there are any number of magical pets we can get for you. How would you like a qilin?”

“Mr. Dromos, I don’t believe offering the child a dragon, no matter how small, is appropriate,” Ms. Salvi said firmly. “You should wait until the family is settled before considering any pets.”

Normally Dakota didn’t argue, but this was his dog. “I want to keep Sir Knight.”

“Dogs are not appropriate pets in our world,” Ms. Salvi said, “and neither are qilin.” She glared at Chester and the temperature in the room dropped again. “So, let us go to your house and get your belongings.” She stood up, and the ballerina dancing on her finger lost her balance, grabbed the golden thread that connected her to the ring, and righted herself. “Say goodbye to your uncle. I’m sure we can arrange a time for you to visit some time in the future.”

Dakota looked at his uncle, but he slumped at the table, not making eye contract with Dakota. Chester, on the other hand, was looking at him with wonder and excitement, like he was the happiest man on the planet. That made Dakota even more uncomfortable than the idea that his uncle wouldn’t fight to keep him. He didn’t know what Chester and his model wife and magical son wanted, but Dakota had the horrible feeling that it wasn’t him.

Not really.

“Come along,” Ms. Salvi said as she walked toward the image of an arch painted onto the back wall of the cafe. With one last glance back toward Uncle Norbert, Dakota followed.

“This is going to be wonderful. You watch,” Chester said.

Ms. Salvi touched the center of the painted arch and it shimmered. “Michigan and 120th,” she said. The light coming from the arch shifted so it looked like the sun was shining through, and he could see the back of a brick business. “Always check to make sure no one is watching. Notice me not charms are tricky, and sometimes graffiti interrupts the magic. We had this one put in because it’s close to your house and school, but most of the arches are in magical areas.” She stuck her head through the wall, and a then stepped through it, vanishing completely.”

“Did I tell you it would be great?” Chester asked enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to show you everything. And I don’t care what she says, I can buy you a qilin.”

“I can hear you,” Ms. Salvi said, and Chester winced.

“We can talk about it later,” he whispered before urging Dakota forward. Stepping through the wall felt like taking a cold shower in December when all the pipes threatened to freeze. Dakota started shivering and he couldn’t stop. His teeth rattled and he moved out of the shadow and into the sunlight behind a familiar corner market.

“Why can’t you make a magical house safe for…” Dakota couldn’t remember the word.

“Prosaics,” Chester offered. “I suppose you could, but then you’d lose all the benefit of having magic. You’ll see. It’s all worth it.”

Maybe, but it sounded like the same magic had made Dakota’s parents abandon him. They liked magic more than him, which made his shivers even worse. His teeth chittered, and Chester put a hand on his shoulder. Warmth washed through him.

“Come along,” Ms. Salvi said. “When you’re older, you’ll learn how to shimmer, but children use the arches,” she said.

“That’s how you’ll get to school,” Chester said.

“I have to change schools?” Dakota didn’t like his school, but he knew everyone and had a place to sit at lunch and knew where to go at recess. “Couldn’t I start a new school next September? There’s less than three months left in the school year.”

“We start the year in March, so you’ll be joining at the beginning of the school year.”

“You’re going to the same school as your brother. It will be brilliant. You two are going to be kings of the school,” Chester said as he nudged Dakota. “Double the trouble, you know, with you two being twins. Just make sure you don’t drive the teachers too crazy. Your mother gets frazzled enough with Ambrose. The teachers are always calling. I keep telling her that he had a lot of spirit. I bet you’re the same.”

Dakota’s brain spun with the new information. He had a twin. Named Ambrose. And the word “mother” spun out a whole new reality. Chester hadn’t said anything, but Dakota suspected the man was his father. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t said so, and he didn’t understand why he thought Dakota would cause trouble in school. Dakota had never been in trouble.

Ms. Salvi sighed. Dakota noticed that her ring and her butterfly hair clip had both gone still. Maybe that was because people sat on a bench on the opposite side of the street and a cluster of teens stood at the corner. Maybe magical jewelry knew when non-magical people were around. “Before you start pranking your teachers,” she said in a cold voice, “you should be aware that our world is not completely safe.”

“You don’t have to bring that up,” Chester interrupted.

“I believe I do.” She sat on a bench and waved her hand so the air shimmered around them. “Until you understand our world, you should stay close to your brother. He’ll recognize dangers faster than you will, at least for a while.”

The hairs on Dakota’s arms stood on end as a cold shiver went through him. “What sort of danger?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Chester said too quickly. He moved to Dakota’s side, draping an arm over his shoulders.

“There are people who want the government to change. Because their group is too small to make that happen, they sometimes use violence to threaten people so people will listen to them.”

Dakota frowned. “Am I in danger?”

“Maybe,” Ms. Salvi said. “Your parents are very involved in politics, and you’re new to our world.”

“We’ll protect him,” Chester snapped. All the affability vanished under cold anger.

“I know you’ll try, but he needs to know the danger, especially since he’s going to be a bit of a celebrity in our world.”

“Why would I be a celebrity?”

Chester sat on the bench next to Ms. Salvi. “Sport, it’s been centuries since someone from the prosaic world has been brought back into our magical one. Everyone wants to know why you were misdiagnosed as prosaic. I agree with Ms. Salvi that you need to beware of strangers. Nietzschians aren’t going to get anywhere near you, but reporters are going to want to get close to you. Stay near Ambrose, and he’ll help you navigate the danger, okay?”

“Sure,” Dakota said, suddenly unsure about this new world.