you really don’t.”
“There must be a way, though, if she wants it so badly. You did it with Tommy Tipp, he was a faerie all along.”
“Then Mara would have to eat someone’s heart first, like Pepper-Man did with Tommy’s, and as you know, the spell didn’t last, even though Pepper-Man is strong and old.”
“She seems so mad for being what she is, and mad for even being born. Guilty, I think, for growing inside you when it clearly wasn’t your choice.”
“She thinks I took her to the mound to hide her, but I took her there so she could live. She wasn’t fit for this world, Ferdinand—I lost her.”
“In Away with the Fairies: A Study in Trauma-Induced Psychosis, Dr. Martin says that it was they who did it, Mother and Father…”
“How did Mother feel about that, you reading the book?”
“She didn’t feel a thing, she doesn’t know.”
“Why did you read it?”
“To understand, I think. Not only the things that happened to you, but the things I remembered from childhood too. That thing…”
“Pepper-Man.”
“Yes, that thing…”
“That thing is probably listening in, I think you should know that. He wants me to not get involved this time, wants you and Mara to figure things out.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “He cares for me.”
“As well he ought to if you are the thing that lets him live.”
“It’s not that easy, Ferdinand. He could easily have found himself another source of life, but these bonds run deep, my brother. You could almost confuse them with love.”
“You can’t love him. He abused you as a child, took advantage of you always…”
“Well”—I squinted my eyes against the sun—“they all do, don’t they? Given a chance?”
“They who?”
“People, faeries—we all have to live. It’s a predatory world out there. We all eat something, don’t we? We hardly ask the piglet before we roast it and serve it with gravy.” This had become my favorite metaphor.
“I can’t believe you’ll compare yourself to a pig roast.”
“Well, there you have it. I’m very pragmatic.”
“But those stories about Mother and Father—especially him—are they true? Mara seems to think they are.”
“What do you think?” I shaded my eyes with my hand.
“I don’t know what to think. In the book there are two stories, and now that I know for sure that Pepper-Man is real, I mostly want to believe that he did it—got you pregnant…”
“That would put Mara firmly in the mound.”
“Yes, it would, wouldn’t it?” He seemed to think it over. “There would be no point in thrashing against her confines, then, if Pepper-Man was her father for real.”
“She chose to believe Dr. Martin, though, even if she didn’t like him.”
“A faerie believing in a man, huh? Somehow that strikes me as odd.”
“Nevertheless, that’s what she did.”
“And you, Cassie? Are you still confused?”
I took a moment. “Maybe I have decided that it doesn’t matter. Maybe one thing being true doesn’t mean that the other thing is untrue.”
“How very faerie of you,” he replied. “How very in-between.”
“That’s how we do it, us twilight fruits. We decide not to decide, because as soon as you do, something happens that changes things again. It’s better to stand firmly in the middle.”
“So you don’t share Mara’s thirst for revenge?”
“Whatever good would that do? It won’t make her human. It won’t take her out of the mound.” It cut my heart to say it out loud.
“What do you think my niece will do?”
“You tell me, it’s you she seeks out. You are the one she envisions an accomplice.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do.”
“Should I offer her to feed of me? Wouldn’t that make her more human, make her more like me?”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Well, it’s not like I do much good in life, at least I’d be useful to someone that way.”
“And vulnerable, too. Look what happened to me.”
“But would it help her?” His eyes were imploring.
“Honestly? I think she’s too angry for quick solutions. Even if she discarded her hawk for you, she would still have that seething fury, and it would only backfire on you, Ferdinand. It could cause you so much pain.”
“If I gave her my heart, though, so she could live in a body resembling mine for a little while?”
“You would give her your heart to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you want that, Ferdinand? It’s not your fault that she is like she is.”
“She came to me, didn’t she? Reached out to ask for help.”
“Do you value your life so little?”
“… I might think that hers is worth more.”
I saw it all so clearly then, why