And yes, it is terrible that someone’s stealing our Holiday’s magic, but I’m selfishly relieved that this incident is superseding Dad’swell, boys, I’m off to visit your motherscheme.
“Ever since we figured out this whole mess last Christmas”—Coalscrolls over a report on a tablet—“Marta’s team has been working to break down the joy we have. Obviously, we don’t haveallthe joy we stole from other Holidays because we’ve been using it over the years, so we can’t pay everyone back one big lump sum.”
Which is one of the things Coal’s been working on in negotiations, how much each Holiday is okay with being paid back and over how long.
I nod, but he’s focused on the tablet, one hand dragging absently across his forehead.
“We’re basing the joy distribution on the original percentages Dad required from everyone,” Coal says. “So, the most recent tally was about sixty… three? Yeah, sixty-three percent of our total joy came from other Holidays, so we’ve been treating what we had in our Merry Measure after Christmas as if sixty-three percent was already spoken for, to be divided up and given back to other Holidays. The remaining thirty-seven percent is ours, and about twenty-five of that is needed for general Christmas functioning, so that leaves twelve percent extra. But we’re planning a reimbursement system to pay back the amounts we’ve stolen in the past, and I was going to make the first payments from that full outstanding twelve percent as a goodwill gesture. Now, though, the amount that’s been stolen fromusthis past week has taken up—”
He clicks through to a new screen.
And tosses the tablet onto his desk with a huff, fixing an exasperated glare on Hex.
“Math is evil,” he grunts.
I don’t take one of the chairs across from Coal, opting to stand, while Wren hisses into her phone off to the side.
“How much has been stolen?” I lay the clover on his desk. We left the device plugged in until we can figure out what’s going on, so we don’t arouse suspicion from whoever the guilty party is. But it means they can keep siphoning off our magic whenever they want.
“It hasn’t been consistent. Marta’s team has so far highlighted three instances that aren’t attributed to our magic use: one big pullat the start of last week, then two smaller ones over the past few days. But rather than paying back the winter Holidays in a split from our outstanding twelve percent, now they’ll get… eight.”
Guilt over my errant use of magic to make tinsel rushes through me, and I almost apologize, but bigger picture: self-pity won’t fix this theft.
“That is…” I scowl. “Not ideal.”
“It’sinsulting,is what it is.” Coal’s jaw tightens. “I’ve already told the other Holiday leaders we’ll set up a repayment schedule. I’m being open with what we have so they know there’s no more funny business. When I come to them now, not only will we have less to repay them with, but we’ll point fingers at another Holiday for stealing fromuswith one of the devices Dad forced on other Holidays in the first place? Yeah, that’ll look good and trustworthy.”
Hex goes around the desk and puts a hand on Coal’s shoulder. “We will figure this out,” he says, all calm confidence, and Coal relaxes under his touch. “Let’s start with thewho.”
Hex nudges the clover.
Coal sighs. “A by-product, you think?”
“By-product?” I ask.
“It happens occasionally,” Hex explains, “with the way magic evolves based on the origins of our joy.”
I squint. “Like magical traces?”
“It does not happen with every Holiday, I’ve found,” Hex says. “Again, it is dependent on how the customs of a Holiday evolve.”
Hex’s eyes go to Coal.
Who grins.
It should be a jarring contrast, sudden joy against his obvious stress, but the shift in attitude is so welcome. All the chaos of our lives these past months, and he hasn’t lost his ability to twist any situation into something happy.
“Do it. Do it.” Coal bounces up and crowds in on Hex. “Kris needs a demonstration. Don’t you, Kris?” He turns that grin on me.
“I’m not even sure what’s being demonstrated.”
“See?” Coal bumps Hex. “Do it. For science.”
Hex fixes Coal with a look of bemused annoyance. “Only because I relish the rare opportunity to say you can be a delightful pain in my ass.”
I rock backwards. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard youcuss.”
There’s a sizzle in the air. The spark of magic.
