mines.” Lola Urduja paused before a package of soft cakes that had been set down on the table. “And what is this?”
“Puto and bibingka,” one of the titas said. “Where do I put it?”
“In that green can over there.”
“That’s the trash bin.”
“Exactly. What packaged food nonsense is this, Teejay? Is this from that vile Serendipity bakeshop again? Their puto tastes like cardboard, Diyos ko.”
“I bought it,” Kay volunteered, approaching the duo. “Thought I should contribute tae the fare.”
Lola Urduja passed a hand over her eyes. “Of course you did.”
“Your Highness,” the man greeted. “I hope yer not too overwhelmed.”
“I’m all right. Thank you.”
“My goddaughter is improving quite well,” the old woman noted.
“Still needs a bit more work,” Kay grunted, looking proud.
“If the firebird doesn’t arrive on my eighteenth birthday next year,” Alex persisted, “what happens then?”
Lola Urduja looked at him. “That’s for the Cheshire to decide. Kay, tell your daughter and my niece to take a break. I made dessert for later—real dessert—Tala’s favorite leche flan. Come, Your Highness. Let me introduce you to the rest of the troops.”
“I still don’t think she likes me,” Kay noted to his wife as she drew nearer, as the other two moved away.
“You should have known better than to offer her dry puto to eat. Tita Urduja’s always been protective of me. And she trusts you, regardless.”
“It’s better than I deserve, I’d say.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She paused. “If we recover Avalon, will you be returning there with us?”
“Course I will. Anywhere you and Tala go, I go.”
“The Avalonians weren’t very kind to you the last time, Kay. I was afraid…”
“You of all people know they have every reason to despise me.”
“They shouldn’t. Not after everything you’ve done for them. And if they haven’t changed their minds, even after all this time…then I’d rather stay here with you.”
“Ah, lovely.” Kay turned so he could frame her face with his large hands. “Look at you. You’re beautiful as you’ve ever been. And me? I’m growing old, faster than I should be now that her magic ain’t up to snuff. It’s fading and taking its toll on what’s left of me. I’ll take the whispers about how I ought tae be dead, how I’m soilin’ the Makiling clan with my name. I’ll take all that and more, because it’s true. I’ve done things, love, and you know it. A lot of things I shouldn’t have done if I wanted real repentance, but I’d rather have their hate as long as I have your forgiveness.”
She kissed his nose. “If she’s alive like you fear, then I don’t want to put you in a position where you may have to kill her, mahal.”
He snorted. “You’ve always been too kind. I’ll do it without a second thought, if it comes down tae that. Gerda’s due for a killing, and you know it.”
“Kay…”
“I don’t love her, Lumina. I don’t know if I ever did. I don’t know if it wasn’t just some spell dragging me along, making me do her dirty work all those centuries. It’s you I love, and Tala.”
“I know. But I don’t want to see you hurt either.”
“We don’t always get the things we want, mahal. Someone told me that once.”
She was smiling. “What would I do without you?”
“Be better off, probably.”
“That was two o’clock,” Lumina said, without bothering to turn. “I asked for three.”
“Nineteen out of twenty isn’t bad,” Tala protested, already angling toward the table.
“We need perfect marks, anak, not a passing grade. It only takes one mistake to short-circuit Amtrak’s rail system, one accident to scramble air traffic control. And until you can show me full command of your abilities, we can’t risk any of that. We’ll try again after eating.”
“All right,” Tala said, already seated and reaching for a piece of chicharon bulaklak. “After I eat.”
“What’s this?” Alex asked, sliding into the chair beside her and taking a piece for himself.
“Tissue.”
“No, thanks.”
“I meant this is tissue. Chicharon bulaklak is made by deep-frying tissue. Pork organs.” Tala popped it into her mouth, while Alex nearly dropped his.
“What?”
“Squeeze some calamansi over it. Here’s some vinegar. If you’re going to be staying with Lola Urduja and the rest of the Katipuneros, you’re gonna have to get used to eating delicious food made from questionable animal parts.” Tala ate another. “You’re lucky,” she added. “Lola Urduja and Tita Baby are fantastic cooks.”
“She isn’t your real lola, though, is she?”
“It’s a Filipino thing. If she’s old enough to be your grandmother, it’s a custom to call her lola.”
“The