I sit up, rubbing my eyes tiredly. “Where?” I give him a sleepy smile.
“Just one of my best places.” He shrugs before he triple backflips off the beam and lands right in front of me. “But first”—stern look—“medicine.”
Peter bounds away, and I go and wake Kinley and Percival. I walk to them; I don’t fly. I find flying a bit arduous in the morning.
“Good morning, boys,” I say, brushing a hand through each of their hair.
They blink awake.
“Breakfast.” I give them a smile, and they nod, tired, flopping their heads back down on their respective pillows.
I’ve not caught sight of the hob yet, but I have started leaving out complimentary notes, because their cooking is sublime. I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, but I remember I could have died over it, and today, it’s the most incredible pile of thick, fluffy ricotta pancakes, honeys and combs and syrups and compotes, butters and fruits. Once Brodie, Kinley, and Percival join us at the table, we each take our medicine.
“It’s not so bad!” I tell Kinley, like I do every morning. “Think of how strong it’ll make you.”
“But I’m strong now.” He frowns, offended.
I give him an encouraging nudge. “Imagine then, all the more! So where are we going, Peter?” I ask him as I bite down on a strawberry.
“Swimming,” he tells me with a smile.
“Swimming?” I repeat back with a frown. “But I have no swimming costume?”
“Why not?” He scrunches his face up. “And what are those?”
I roll my eyes. “The clothes that you swim in.”
Peter rolls his back. “Well, why didn’t you bring them?”
“You told me not to!” I stand up, feeling cross.
So he stands up, frowning defensively. “No, I didn’t!”
“You did too!” I stare at him indignant. “You said you were all I needed!”
“I am!”
Percival leans in towards Kinley and whispers ever so quietly, “Evidently not so.”
And then Rune zooms in, hovering, all sparkles in front of my face.
I put out my hand for her to land.
“I know!” I shake my head at her. “He’s so conceited.”
“Hey!” Peter growls and throws a blueberry at the fairy.
She flies over to him at the speed of light and pulls his hair before she flies back over to me.
“He said he was all I’d need. Can you believe it?” I roll my eyes. “That’s my fault though, isn’t it, for believing him. Men are such terrible packers.”
She jingles.
“Oh, no. I shouldn’t like to trouble you.” I shake my head at her offer. “Well, if you’re sure it’s no bother?”
She chimes again and zooms away.
“There.” Peter shrugs. “Problem solved. The fairies will make you a bathers.”
I give him a look. “If you’d told me, I could have just brought my own and saved them the time.”
He swipes his hand through the air and yawns.
Right as breakfast is finishing up, Rune zooms back in and drops a bikini made of tightly woven together daisy chains.
“Oh my goodness!” I stare down at it. “It’s so beautiful.”
She chimes.
“Will it fall apart?” I hold it delicately in my hands.
She shakes her tiny, gorgeous head, because I’ve misunderstood.
“Oh!” I blink, delighted. “It’s spelled!”
And she tinkles again.
“Yeah!” Brodie nods, agreeing with her. “Put it on.”
Peter gives Brodie a cross look, but it only lasts for a second, because down a slide I didn’t even know was there slides Calla, and I frown immediately.
Rye tumbles down a second after her and gives me a little wave.
Calla straightens herself up, standing tall, brushing the dirt from her hands, and when I tell you that she’s beautiful, I want you to imagine with me a dark-skinned Raquel Welch. There’s a film that came out last December, maybe you’ve heard of it? One Million Years B.C. She’s on the poster in a fur bikini? Well, that’s essentially what Calla is wearing, and she looks every bit as gorgeous as Raquel Welch.
Rune lets out a sigh.
I glance down at myself—at the same little frilly, baby-doll shortie pyjamas I arrived in. White.* My favourite pair, and I used to think I looked quite pretty in them until bloody Raquel bloody Welch appeared.
Peter’s staring over at her, almost like he’s unsure of what to do, like it’s too much—too much hotness—and she knows it. She knows she’s beautiful; you can’t be that beautiful and not know it, and I know she knows she’s beautiful because she’s wielding it around in front of me like a terrible weapon that she knows might be the end of me.