Page 90 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

Wren blinks twice, surprised. Then her amber eyes meet mine, narrow just a fraction, and fall softly back on Lillith again. “Do you want me to send you pics the whole time? And videos? So it feels like you’re there too?”

She sniffles and nods. “If... if it won’t bother you.”

“It won’t,” she says.

It occurs to me that Lillith... She avoided asking me for that from me, because she thought I would be bothered by it.

That’s stupid. I’m going to drain all of my unlimited data sending her so many fucking videos. Just fucking watch me.

“When are we getting picked up again?” Wren asks me as a quiet aside.

“In about twenty minutes,” I mouth over Lillith’s head, trying not to upset her.

Wren nods and leans forward to press a kiss to the back of Lillith’s head. “Come on, Lilipad. I need your help for the wards.”

Lillith gives a little whimper of protest and lags, but, eventually, she does sit up. Her eyes are puffy and red, and so is her adorable little nose. She lifts the hem of her shirt and wipes her face with it before giving a sullen little nod.

“You’re up too, pretty boy,” Wren says.

“Is this more magical pissing?” I ask.

“Excuse me?” Wren says, genuinely affronted.

Lillith sniffs and interjects miserably, “That’s what he calls the mark,” she says. “Magical pissing.”

I lift my wrist with the red mark on it and Wren shakes her head with a laugh. “Uh. No. And don’t ever let Bastion hear you call it that. He will be so offended,” she says.

“I’m sorry; that sounds like a reason to do exactly what you just said not to do.”

“You are such a menace,” Wren says. “Like, wow. How did sweet little Lilipad fall for you?”

“It’s called balance, Wren.”

Lillith’s lip quivers and she melts into a teary puddle again. “I love you guys so much,” she sobs.

I wrap her up in my arms as I get out of the bed, peppering the top of her head with kisses and lifting her just long enough to put her feet on top of mine and start walking us into the living room.

Wren instructs me to set us up at Lillith’s breakfasting table. Lillith’s eyes look a little clearer as she sits in the little nook, like she’s collecting herself to do something important. Wren and I hem her in on either side. I rest my forearms on the table.

“So, are we doing more blood stuff?” I ask.

Wren shakes her head. “Blood is a very powerful taglock. We only really use that if we’re ready to be bound to the other person in perpetuity because it’s a very hard bond to untangle.”

I look over at Lillith. She doesn’t look back at me. Her face flushes faintly, though—just a little dusting of it on her cheekbones. I want to ask her about that—verify if it’s true. If she wants to be bound to me in perpetuity.

“Alright,” I make myself say. “So, what are we doing instead?”

“Intention and a chime candle. Maybe a little something you can wear to give it something to tether to,” she says.

“So, we’re just going to... think a ward into existence?” I ask.

“Oh, Mister Skeptical doesn’t believe in the power of intention, huh?” she asks in a mocking tone. “That’s how all things come into existence, dummy. How else do you think you make your music?”

“But—I mean—okay. Isn’t that different?”

Lillith takes my hand and squeezes it. “All things start as a thought, Damien,” she says. “Music, cities, spells—even people. They all start as ideas and intentions before they’re acted on. The way we do it with magic is just a little bit more... umm.” She uses her free hand to gesture above herself and around her head. “Up here. In the Aether.”

“Is that what that As Above, So Below thing is about?” I ask.