“Is it true?”
“I expect time will tell.”
She shook her head. Something crossed her face that Linus couldn’t quite parse. She said, “I must remain objective. My job is to report the facts, and nothing more.”
“But?” Arthur asked.
“But as a human being, and someone who has seen glimpses of light in all the darkness, I would hope this man knows that there are many, many people who believe that what he has to say will bring about the change this world so desperately needs. Good day.”
She left then, heading back toward the ferry.
They stood on the porch as her car disappeared down the dirt road, hands joined between them.
Linus said, “I told you.”
Arthur smiled. “You did, didn’t you? Perhaps you were right, after all. Do you really think they’ll listen?”
Linus wasn’t a fool; he knew that DICOMY was most likely watching him as much as they were the other residents of the island. While he wasn’t magical in the slightest, he had left DICOMY and come to a place still technically considered classified, though it was something of a joke now. The children didn’t hide who they were. And while they were still met with some conflict, they were welcome in the village whenever they wished. Helen made sure of that.
Oh, he wasn’t naïve enough to think it would be like this everywhere. He still saw the anger and the vitriol magical beings received in the bigger cities. There were rallies and marches in favor of registration, but what made him hope that things were changing were the counterprotesters who gathered in greater numbers. They were mostly young people, a mixture of the magical and humans alike, and Linus knew the old guard would soon be standing on their last legs.
It was simply a matter of time.
“Yes,” he said. “Eventually.”
Arthur nodded. “You believe in me.”
Linus blinked. “Of course I do. I believe in all of you. But you’re a phoenix, Arthur. You know fire. It’s time to burn it all down and see what can grow from the ashes.”
“A ruckus,” Arthur said, and he chuckled quietly. “If only they knew what we’re capable of.”
Linus smiled. “They will.”
* * *
He was waiting to see if DICOMY would send a new caseworker to the island, especially after the petition Arthur had recently submitted. So far, there hadn’t been word of such a thing, though Helen was here now. Maybe she’d learned something and had come to warn them.
“I’ll keep working on it,” she told him.
He smiled softly at her. “We know. And we’re grateful for it.”
He led her into the house. He could hear the sounds of a home filled with happiness around them. It creaked and groaned as a house does when it’s old and well lived-in. He saw the tip of a tail thumping happily from underneath the couch. As they climbed the stairs, there came the sound of typewriter keys clacking furiously, of a cheerful “How do you do?” coming from Chauncey’s room. He was practicing more and more these days, especially after he’d been asked by the manager of the hotel if he’d like to spend one day a month working with their bellhop. It seemed the man who’d given Chauncey his cap was getting on in years and would soon be looking to retire. Chauncey had collapsed in a quivering puddle, something Linus and Arthur hadn’t known he was capable of. Eventually, when he pulled himself together, he tearfully accepted. He had his first day on Saturday.
Linus heard Lucy exclaiming loudly as they reached the bedroom door. He glanced back at Helen, who arched an eyebrow at him. “Lucy was the first to say something to Arthur about what he was,” Linus explained. “Everyone else pretty much already knew, but Lucy decided to be more forthcoming about it. He’s been asking Arthur to light things on fire for a few weeks now.”
“Oh boy,” Helen said.
He pushed open the door.
“—and just think about it, Arthur! Think about all the things that burn! Paper! Cardboard! Trees! Wait. No. Not trees. Phee will kill me if we burn trees. But we could if we wanted to. Between the two of us, we can light so many things on fire— Hi, Linus!”
Linus shook his head. “Lucy. We’ve talked about this.”
Lucy scowled. “I know. But you also told me the only way we can learn new things is if we ask about them.”
Arthur smiled. “You did say that, didn’t you?”
“I regret everything,” Linus muttered.
“You’re fibbing,” Lucy said. “You love me.” That smile took on a sinister curve. “Just like you loooove Arthur.”
Linus felt himself turning red, but he didn’t try and argue. Everyone in the room would know he was lying. “Be that as it may, I think there’s a plate of biscuits with your name on it in the kitchen. Why don’t you see if Sal and Chauncey want to join you?”
Lucy stared up at him suspiciously. “Are you kicking me out to talk about me? Because if you are, I didn’t do whatever you think I did.”
Linus’s eyes narrowed. “Did you do something I should be aware of?”
“Biscuits!” Lucy crowed, running from the room. “Hi, Helen! Bye, Helen!” He hollered for his brothers as he slammed the door shut behind him. A painting on the wall—that of a lemur in a confoundingly salacious pose that Arthur found inexplicable delight in—was knocked crooked.
“A little devil, isn’t he?” Helen asked, staring at the closed door in wonder.
“Quite literally,” Arthur replied. “Helen, I don’t think we were expecting you.”
“Sorry about that,” she said. “I—it couldn’t wait. I needed to see you.” She glanced at Linus. “Both of you. It’s important.”
“By all means,” Arthur said, nodding to the chair Lucy had vacated. She sat while Linus moved to stand next to Arthur. He turned redder when Arthur reached up and took his hand, kissing the back of it. He didn’t pull away.
“Getting on then, are you?” Helen asked, a spark in her eyes that Linus didn’t like.
“We’re taking it one day at a time,” Linus said stiffly.
“Oh, sure. I understand that. Talia told me last weekend that you haven’t slept in the guest house since Christmas. And that they’ve had quite a few sleepovers with Zoe, though I don’t think she quite understands why.”
Arthur laughed as Linus groaned. “Meddling little things.”
“It’s a good look on you,” she said quietly. “The both of you. I’m happy you found each other.” She sobered. “I’ve waited to come to you with this. I wanted to make sure, but I think it’s almost time.”
Linus was confused. He glanced down at Arthur before looking back at Helen. “What are you talking about?”
“A child,” Arthur said. “Isn’t it? You’ve found a new child.”
Linus felt goose bumps on the back of his neck.
Helen nodded. “He’s undocumented. But he has no one else. He’s staying with … some friends. People I trust, but they don’t have enough room, and it was always meant to be temporary. And given … what he is, he’ll need more than they could ever provide.” She smiled, though it trembled. “I know it’s asking a lot, and it might bring down more attention on you than you want, but he has nowhere else to go. They’ve looked for relatives, but haven’t been successful. I think he’s alone. He’s shy, and scared, and doesn’t talk much. Reminds me a little of Sal, in fact. Or, rather, how he used to be. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that boy talk as much as he has in the last few months.”