reach the magic, the way that Daniella and Heather had with their knights? They hadn’t understood what was happening, so they understandably had a few rough starts, but she knew exactly how it was supposed to work...and it didn’t. She remembered Robin’s expression, puzzled and...doubtful. Was there some uncertainty that she was the key? The chemistry was definitely there, but what if the magic wasn’t?
What if Robin had been wrong about her?
It would be just like the rest of her life, where she was supposed to be brilliant and successful and instead, she was just a barista with a bunch of second place trophies.
Gwen breathed deep and tried to calm herself. To her surprise and confusion, when she cast her thoughts to something that brought her peace, it was Henrik that she pictured first. The big, solid bulk of him seemed like the safest possible place in the world, even when everything around him made her doubt herself.
Gwen stomped down the stairs so it wouldn’t seem like she was sneaking, and they all still looked up at her in surprise.
“Hey, people,” she said, too jovially. “Smells good. Better than before, anyway. Now that we’ve showered.” She was such an idiot.
“We’re giving Henrik the CliffsNotes version of world history while the pizzas bake,” Heather said. Vesta was in Rez’s arms being lovingly scratched. Every so often he would pause and Vesta would whine and wiggle pleadingly.
Gwen told herself that was more needy than she wanted in a pet and she didn’t really wish that Socks was more cuddly. She perched on the arm of the couch, ignoring the space that they’d unsubtly left for her beside Henrik.
The version of history that Henrik was getting was less ‘CliffsNotes’ and more ‘spaghetti,’ frequently stirred by questions like, “What are dinosaurs?” and “Wait, who was the poet shaker of spears?”
Gwen found herself forgetting her own self-consciousness. She’d been worried that Henrik would change the dynamic of the close friendship that had grown up around the rest of them, that she would be too wound up to be a good conversationalist. But everyone seemed relieved and happy to include him, with all the affection of family.
Then the timer went off and Ansel started taking the pizzas out of the oven.
They all talked about food over the meal, Robin perched like a king on a dais in their doll’s chair and miniature table eating a slice nearly as big as they were.
Henrik acknowledged that pizza was a very fine meal indeed, and reminisced with his shieldmates about various feasts that they had shared in the past. They regaled him with descriptions of the foods that they had found here.
“Noodles,” Trey said with excitement. “A boggling variety of shapes and textures and sauces.”
“Wait until you try marshmallows,” Rez said eagerly. “But they really must be toasted.”
“Tadra…” Henrik said after a time. “You have not been able to find her ornament?”
Everyone was silent, and Trey slung an arm comfortingly over his shoulders. “We will.”
“I plan to dowse for her and for her key soon,” Robin said soothingly. “I have recovered a great deal since I last tried.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen thought that Henrik looked alarmed at that statement, but he said nothing.
“I should like to assist you,” Henrik said.
Gwen stuffed her last bite of pizza crust into her mouth, feeling everyone’s attention prickle at her. He’d be able to assist if she could figure out how to be his key. Gwen set her jaw. Too much depended on this working.
“We’ll practice tomorrow,” she promised desperately. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
That required an explanation of what Rome was, something that Trey and Rez were both also interested in knowing. Gwen’s knowledge was superficial, but Heather proved to be a good source of historical trivia, and she made a little map on the table top with geography marked in napkins and utensils around Robin’s throne.
After dinner, they all cleaned up. Henrik gathered the napkins.
Gwen wrapped up the leftovers in tinfoil and was standing up from tucking them into the fridge when he made a noise of dismay.
“I fear I have destroyed your napkins!” he said sheepishly, holding up a soaked and disintegrating napkin.
“Did you wash them?” Daniella asked in shock.
Gwen realized that the sound she had assumed was the knight washing his hands had been his attempt to launder the paper napkins they’d used in the sink.
Everyone in the kitchen began to chortle. It wasn’t unkind laughter, but Henrik looked so dismayed holding his withered