It was a beautiful day, bright and crisp, the sky a big blue bowl overhead. You did so well at the Abbey, Mister Ali told her that morning. Why don't you come help me put our plants to bed for the winter? And so he fed her, and she washed the dishes, and he led her out onto the deck itself.

Lirssa had seen the deck already, when she'd snuck out in furtive attempts to gain her strength back. The word "deck" didn't quite describe it...it was a rooftop garden, a fairyland. There was the chicken coop near the door, painted in stripes of blue and spangled with stars; beside it were windchimes Miss Fio had made of random bits of brilliance she'd found about the WestEnd. The fairy lights strung along the roof were turned off for the day. Between tickling breezes off the sea, the sun laid warm fingers upon their heads in silent blessing. The view, between the big buckets of pampas grass, seemed to go on forever and ever.

Beyond the clucking coop and tinkling chimes was a long strip of grass to walk or lounge on, bisected by a cedar-boarded path. On the right side of the grass was a round plateau of flagstone with a grill, table and chairs in wood and wrought iron. Beyond that, continuing on the right was a tiny garden, herbs and flowers devoid of their spring and summertime magnificence, ready for the long rest. On the left was a trellised bench, a pond full of koi, lotus, and papyrus, and a rock fountain.

Leftover dessert, the pear crumble, had been a good breakfast just like Miss Fio had said it would. It had been easier to eat that morning, and she was glad for the simple elements of words exchanged. There were things to do, and her body was feeling stronger each day in order to accomplish them. Working out on the deck appealed to her, not only for the view and the built in balance beam of the wall, but for the tingle that went across her body when details like stars on the chicken coop caught her eye under the warming brilliance of the sun.

Mister Ali wore a battered pair of jeans, a green t-shirt advertising a 10k run in someplace called "Infinity City," a dirty pair of leather gloves, and a pair of tennis shoes covered in splotches of paint that just happened to match the blues of the chicken coop. His silver-shot hair was trying desperately to escape its braid, and he was squinting into the startling sunlight, looking up and down the deck. ?I think?let's start with the pond. We need to pull the plants out before they start to rot and hurt the fish.? He limped off in that direction.

Lirssa paused just outside the door, fingers trailing along the roof of the chicken coop. A glance to him and back to the chicken coop helped hide her inspection of her choice of clothes. He looked ready to work, but all her clothes had seemed so new. It was hard to choose what was best to get dirty. Miss Fio had said the pair of loose cut pants (they reminded Lirssa of Prof Jolly's dungarees) and long sleeved cotton shirt with a leaf pattern were play clothes. Lirssa still felt they looked new, but it was the best she could do. She would get some proper mucking about clothes once she bought her motley. And her books. And?well, she?d get them eventually.

The chickens gave her round eyed looks of surprise or suspicion when she leaned down to look them over?hard to say when their eyes always remained round. She made her way further into the garden, her fingers skipping from the coop rooftop to jingle the windchimes. What she wanted to do was take off her shoes and spring across the grass, but she was out there to work, and when the first assignment was given, she nodded. "I like the fish. They're fat and happy looking." She followed quick step in his wake, past the mosaic birdbath on the minuscule lawn, past the bench.

Ali knelt on the rocks beside the fountain, and winced briefly. He said, ?I do, too. We're going to have to do something with them for the winter, as well, or they'll freeze out here.?

"They won't sleep in the winter?" She couldn?t remember everything from the nature walk.

?The water's not deep enough, sadly. As cold as it gets here in the wintertime, the pond will freeze through and kill them.? Over the fountain's splashing, he continued, ?You see, down in the water, how they're all set into buckets? Those need to come out. If you'll pull them out one at a time, and hand them to me??

With a good amount of rest, her movements were no longer stunted by weariness. It was full strides and quick, snappy attention to where she was and where she needed to be. Not a wince in sight or hesitation when she dropped to her knees, pushed up her sleeves, and reached into the water to grasp a bucket. "Are the fish gonna bite me?"

Ali leaned in and peered down into the water. ?They might nibble on your fingers, but they haven't any teeth.?

Nibbling did not sound any more appealing, and she kept a sharp eye out for the fish, tugging on the bucket to get it out fast before they could. She sighed in relief when the bucket came out nibble free. Wiggling her fingers, she pushed up her sleeves again, and plunged her hands back in to get the next one; grunting a little getting it out before the fish, who were now nowhere near because of the change of their scenery, could get her. "Hmm, whatcha gonna do with 'em, then? Can't put them in the tub. You need that too much." She leaned away a little, not sure how well her reference to his smelliness the night before would go over.

However, Mister Ali did not respond to the reference. He took each bucket from her and set it aside, out of the way, the wilting plants left to drip over the stones. When he spoke it was with all seriousness. ?I think I'm going to have to buy an aquarium for them and let them winter over at the Eye. I don't know much about how they work, though. Perhaps you could check, for me??

Her mouth twisted. Evidently her tease had not gone over well. At the request, she shrugged and nodded. "I don't know either. I could ask Mister Jolly. He might know. Gonna have to be big." Another bucket was pulled out, her pants? knees wet with splashing as were her sleeves even for all the pushing up. "What's the Eye?"

((adapted from live play with Ali al Amat))

?They don't always individually know what the others know. Sometimes I forget who knows what, and I make mistakes.? There was that touch of sadness in his expression again. ?There is Fio, and Fionna; Grace, and Missie, and Mireille. Once you have got the trick of it, it's not difficult to tell them apart.?

She had to take him at his word on that one. It was going to be hard to wait every time and find out who it was. There'd be no running up to greet or pleasant surprises to plan. She would have to wait. Her heart sank, as waiting, she fully knew, was not one of her strongest qualities. Her shoulders shrugged up to her ears, a protective gesture that then dropped with a hint of regret. "What about you? Do you know what you're doin?"

?Yes.? He twisted his legs to one side, then into a cross-legged seat, setting his back against the edge of the trellis and resting his hands on his knees. ?I always know, and I always remember. It has nothing to do with the moon. Sometimes, if I am very upset indeed, it happens without my meaning to, but that is rare.? He paused and added to remind and make a point. ?More upset than I was the night that I fought with Lucien, even.? Then he changed the subject. Adults were tricky. ?The door down at the end of the hallway, for the room that you have not been into?? He glanced at her for confirmation.

She looked down at her feet. Poor Mister Lucky. She seemed to be surrounded by broken, hurting people, but then she was broken, too. She would just have to work hard so they didn't have to hurt about her. Her foot twisted ankle out, and she looked back to him, her lips pressing together then relaxing, before she finally managed to nod. She had not been there. She did not go past closed doors without permission, or unless she was stealing something of her own back.

?It is a shrine to my goddess, Bast. You are welcome to go in there at any time. I do not expect you to worship her, but it is a good and quiet place to sit and think, should you need it.?

She was going to have to learn a lot about this Bast and the Bubasti. She knew just who to ask, too, and he wasn't sitting nearby. Still, he had offered her use for it as a quiet place, so the proper thing to do was say, "Thank you." Even if the idea of worshiping something was foreign to her.

?You're welcome. These are our secrets, mind you, as you have told us yours. About me...Lucien knows, Kyrie, Sinjin and Salvador, Skid, and Fio and Rekah. The witch named Melantha, and Artsblood have seen me, but I do not count them as friends, you understand? You will need to talk to Fio, to ask her what is acceptable about her for you to discuss with others.?

"I can keep secrets. I won't tell anyone." There went asking her tutor about Bast and Bubasti. Unless it just came up some time, but that wasn't likely. She really didn't want to ask Miss Fio what was okay to talk about. That just seemed weird, but there was a question she wanted to ask Mister Ali. "You said Miss Fio had children? What happened to them?"

His expression changed. They stared at each other in silence. "You don't have to tell me," she whispered, finally. He looked so hurt at the idea. "Maybe we should get back to work."

He sighed, nostrils flaring with it, and shut his eyes for a moment. ?No...no. It's all right. Her sons died many years ago. Her daughter is alive, but is hidden away for safety's sake.?

"Safety? Because of that Michael person?" Her body felt a sudden need to move, flee, hide... something, and she fought it down to only a wiggle of a heel.

?Exactly so. Lucien hid her away. I'm not certain that even he knows where she is. He will not tell Fio where he has hidden her. That?was what we were fighting about, that night.?

?Oh," She looked to the wall and out beyond it. Mister Lucky's name got a flicker of a glance back, and the reason of the argument gave birth to a fresh knot in her stomach. It was cold even with the sunlight above, or at least felt that way. Maybe it was empty, not cold, her arms folded across her middle and she kept looking out beyond the wall. "So this Michael still wants to hurt Miss Fio?" That was the only reason she could think of why the daughter was still hidden away. That child was kept safe.

?Yes, he does. He can change his face and his shape, Lirssa.? He paused a breath, a beat, and went on. ?We are trying to find him, and trying to protect her, but none of us are perfect. For this reason I need you to be very careful about strangers, or even about us if we seem strange. Keep Dante with you when you go out, please. He picked Michael out when the man came into the inn one day, pretending to be someone else.?

That was odd. She frowned at him. "What would he care? I'm just a street kid. Maybe Miss Fio should keep Dante with her. Michael wants to hurt her." That made tons more sense, and she nodded at her own reasoning.

He shifted his weight, scratching his back against the trellis; frowning, he regarded her carefully. ?It's not who you are, it is what you are. You live with us, and therefore we care about you. People such as Michael will use that. As it is a strength, so it is a weakness, you understand?

?If I come to you and I am not behaving as I normally do; if I demand that you leave whatever you are doing and go away with me, or refuse to explain myself, then you must ask me for a password. We'll change it every few days. You should have one for Lucien, as well, and...do you know Sinjin?? At her headshake he said, ?Then it won't matter with him.?

She felt all fidgety of a sudden. A shake, almost like a dog shaking off water, ran through her from head to toe. "Then maybe I shouldn't be here. I don't want to be used to hurt people." The urge to move kept going, the shake hadn't gotten rid of it. Her ankles and knees bent in little hops up to her toes and down again, over and over. Her hands clenched into fists. "Does Rekah understand all this? Does she know about this Michael?" It was never just "Michael." He was other. She saw him as a shadow image with glowing red eyes in her mind, something that could change shape, smile like a cat one moment, then swallow up everything.

((adapted from live play with Ali al Amat))