//------------------------------// // Chapter 18: Projection Anxiety // Story: Child of Mine // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Any fear Kyle had that her secret ally might’ve been leading her on for their amusement was quickly demolished. A response email came less than five minutes later. Kara waited on the other side of the room, but she didn’t show it. She’d just sworn some kind of… magical promise, one she had no reason to break. Yet. It was short, shorter than she’d been expecting. “Shit, didn’t expect you to do it that fast. There aren’t any records of this easy to share, I’m writing it all down myself. I’ll get back to you tomorrow. “That spell kinda-sorta makes you my apprentice, by the way. Don’t know if that means anything for horses, but you’re not really a horse inside so it doesn’t matter. Feel like you should at least have something to call me. So call me Monday. No, it’s not my real name, it’s not supposed to be. Names are too important to give away, and we all mutually recognize that. “You should come up with something similar, so I know what to call you. I won’t expect your real name either, yet. Sit tight.” She frowned at the screen, re-reading the little message. The speed of it was certainly impressive. No waiting one day and responding, in a way that could make it seem like they had predicted everything, while keeping their options open to seeming real. Minutes after she’d done it. I probably still wouldn’t believe this if it wasn’t for the things that already happened. But maybe this will actually help. “Anything you can show me?” Kara asked. “From your face, I’m guessing it’s good news. You don’t look pissed off anymore.” She nodded. “The promise was not sharing any of the magic, this doesn’t seem magical to me. Just… their name. They didn’t expect me to do it so fast, and they’ll send another message tomorrow.” “Seems like they’re doing that to you a lot.” Kara folded her arms, rolling out of the cushion to inspect the screen. “Still could be screwing with us. You should be skeptical if they ask you to do anything weird. I want you to keep your promise, so I guess you can’t tell me anything magic, but… don’t do what they say if it’s weird.” “I won’t,” she promised. “It’s just about fixing this. They’ll be upset when I use what they teach me to take away my own powers, but… It’s not like I can ask Fay for help.” The baby looked up. She’d been arranging her stuffed toys, settling them on the ground around her like an honor guard. Or maybe a family. She grinned. You recognized your name. That didn’t take you long. “Yeah, sweetie. I was talking about you. Just telling Kara how you haven’t taught me how to use magic yet. Probably because you know you’d be out your babysitter.” Kara rolled her eyes. “You know she can’t understand you, bro. She’s just a baby, and not even a very old one. Even if all of you… horses are as smart as people, a human baby wouldn’t understand English at this stage either. She’s just responding to your attention.” And of course you’re the expert. Suddenly you know all about babies. “Do you know anyone who didn’t talk to their baby?” she countered. “I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to do. Hell, people talk to their horses, Kara. Either way I’d do it.” Kara rolled her eyes. “Whatever, bro. I can’t imagine what this is like for you, but… in some ways, that’s a good thing. You need an outsider who isn’t influenced by whatever is going on. Someone to remind you that Fay isn’t your baby. Even if everything you believe is true, you’re, like… a surrogate she created to care for her. You aren’t responsible for her; you’re doing a voluntary service for her real parents.” “Probably her creators,” she said, ears flattening. Kara was right, obviously. It was the only rational way to look at what was happening with Fay. But for some reason, her words came with their own little shock. An instinctive, almost immune response. It’s okay, chill. It doesn’t mean you don’t like Fay. She’s cute, she’s probably innocent of all this. But she’s still not yours. “I’m still thinking that she’s some kind of… genetic experiment? Or maybe a magical experiment, if these emails end up going anywhere and Monday is real.” “Either way.” Kara rested one hand on her shoulder, pressing right into her fur. “I just don’t want to see you thinking you’re responsible for this, bro. People who feel guilty do stupid things. I want to help you through this. And maybe still be my brother when it’s all over?” Kyle relaxed, nodding. “Thanks, Kara. That means a lot to me. Now… what should my magical name be?” “Mirage,” she responded. “Obviously. It’s magic, and pretty. Apparently you’re both.” “Says the person who just went on about how she wants her brother back,” Kyle said. “Shouldn’t it be something masculine and powerful? Like… Ozymandias?” “No,” Kara snapped, without hesitation. “He got the world invaded; you aren’t going to do that. A name like Mirage is safe and comfortable. Ozymandias uses fake aliens to blow up a city.” “Wait, what?” Her eyebrows went up. “You read Watchman? I thought you hated graphic novels!” “I saw the movie. Now you should probably do something about the baby. She’s getting mouthy.” She blushed. Fay was getting close to her, the way she always did when she was hungry. She hadn’t had time to eat yet, so it was no terrible surprise. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Let me know when they get the homeschool thing set up.” Kara turned. “Will do. Probably gonna be a few more days. They want to bring you in for counseling first, which is… obviously not an option. Dad is trying to pull some strings with the district. We’ll see how it goes.” She left. Nothing too exciting happened that night, for better or worse. Kyle tossed and turned over what mysteries might be waiting for her when she heard from Monday again. Maybe there would be enough in that first message to change back right away? Or maybe it would take a little longer. Though any considering she spent on getting her proper body back had to turn at least briefly towards something just as important: what would happen to Fay once she achieved it?  The baby had created her out of hunger, when even cow milk hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. Maybe that was just because she didn’t know how to drink it—horses weren’t cats, after all. Cows had to be biologically similar enough for her to survive on it, right? She’d heard of baby lambs drinking formula. Though that might just be something lazy farmers did. More disturbing still, contact with Fay had apparently been enough to expose her to something much bigger. Magic might actually be a thing. She’d wait on testing whatever Monday sent before she fully admitted it, since the timing on that email might still have been a coincidence. But something in her gut told her that the delay wouldn’t be necessary. Monday was real, her first lifeline since nearly drowning. She’d have to make it count. The next morning, her mother was back at her door, with bags under her eyes and exhaustion plastered on her face. But she hadn’t woken her—usually Fay did that, waking with the sun and treating any attempt to sleep in with amusement and contempt.  “Kyle, there are some things you should know. Can I come in?” She laughed, moving aside and scooping Fay onto her back. She could get away with that for a little while, particularly in the company of a stranger like her mom. But if the visit took too long, then she’d soon be fighting to keep the baby from cursing anything else. “Sure, Mom. What’s up?” Mom didn’t say anything until the door was shut, and she leaned awkwardly on the wall, staring around at the stable as though it might attack her. “Two things. First, your father has been talking to… the family. They’re aware of what happened, and they’re going to send someone to look at you. Soon, probably within the week. They’d like all of us to come and stay with them, or at least to visit. We’ll… probably have to, one way or the other. It’s how these things go. We’re… trading pride and independence for help. Your father isn’t happy about it.” I wouldn’t be either. Kyle had few memories of her grandparents, and fewer that she wanted to remember. Their disapproval was the reason for all the dead plants, for the empty stable, for everything really. “What do they think a doctor is going to do about this?” She lifted one hoof, turning it towards her. “There’s no pill to fix a hoof. I’ve already googled for it.” Mom didn’t laugh. Or… acknowledge the question at all. “It wouldn’t be right if they find you out here in the stable, even if it doesn’t look quite so… dreadful. We’re working on getting the south wing livable for you. We won’t knock down any of the temporary walls, that way anyone else who visits won’t find you accidentally. But it should be better than spending your days out here. In a… place that shouldn’t exist.” Kyle nodded, wiping a few tears from her face with the back of one leg. It wasn’t quite being welcomed home, but it was close. At least it was the same building, even if there was only one door connecting to it that hadn’t been sealed. “With Fay, I’m assuming? I can’t leave her out here by herself.” Mom twitched slightly at the name. She knew it, but clearly she wasn’t happy about it. “She’ll still sleep out here. We can dig out a baby monitor. And… I suppose we’ll have to reopen the south entrance so you can get in and out without walking through the rest of the house, if anyone else is over. Don’t worry about the details, we just… wanted you to know. You won’t be stuck out in this old stable for much longer. Harrington Senior has important friends. They can do more for you than we can.” She turned to go, and Kyle reached for her with a wing. But then the door closed, leaving her alone with Fay again. She sat there in silence, until the baby started babbling. “They don’t want to be around me, do they?” she asked, lifting the baby off her back and settling her on her own hooves. “Guess I can’t blame them. If my kid got changed into something weird, I’d be upset too.” Fay babbled in response, then seemed to notice the precariously stacked clean diapers on the shelf. She yanked at the bottom with her magic, and the entire pile went tumbling. She climbed atop the wreckage, triumphant.  “No more of that,” Kyle chided, picking her back up. “We’re moving back into the house soon. When Grandma and Grandpa visit, you better be on your best behavior.” But even as she thought about it, she realized it wouldn’t happen. Mom hadn’t said they were coming, they were sending a doctor. They had people for everything. It would be too much to ask them to actually do anything.” More cheerful babbling. Fay squirmed, fighting against her. Their magical struggle lasted only seconds, before the baby had won and she hopped back to the ground. She aimed her horn firmly at the fallen diapers, and one of them popped, transforming into a little stuffed deer. Well, not little—it was Fay’s own size, like her other toys. She reached out, hugging it close to herself before offering it to Kyle. “Just… don’t do that in front of the doctor,” Kyle muttered, taking it. “Or… maybe at all.”