“Thank you,” I murmured, flashing her a quick smile before I returned to Micah’s side. His face was hidden by his hands, and, since mine were full, I bumped his shoulder with my hip. “I have them,” I said.
He looked up, his silver eyes reflecting the sparks nestled in my palms. “So you do. Thank you,” he said, with a nod to Mom over his shoulder.
“Um, I don’t know how to return them.”
“Let me.” Micah stood and placed his hands upon mine. A heartbeat later, the sparks, now glowing with a coppery tinge, erupted from our hands and flitted across the heap of inanimate metal as the orbs searched for their owners. Once the orbs had settled into the nooks and crannies around the bodies, Micah and I stood breathless, gripping each other’s hands.
“Why is it taking so long?” I whispered.
“Patience, love,” Micah replied, patting my hand. “Give them time to remember who they are.”
If there’s anything I don’t have, it’s patience, and those long, silent moments nearly drove me crazy. Just as I was about to ask Micah if this spark application always took so frickin’ long, I heard a noise. A weird noise, one that you don’t hear every day, except maybe if you’re an Elemental.
Silver scraping against silver.
My breath caught in my throat, my fingers wound around Micah’s so tightly they ached, then went numb. Slowly, creakily, the silverkin shook their heads, then they stretched their limbs. Then a silver head poked free of the mass, and I recognized him at once.
“Shep!” I cried as the little guy pulled himself free from the rest. I snatched him up in a bear hug, which clearly embarrassed him. Luckily for him, metal doesn’t blush. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
“My Sara, look,” Micah said, tracing a pattern on Shep’s arm. It was faint, but there was an undeniable swirl of copper, where there had previously been nothing but pure silver. I looked at the rest of the ’kin, all of whom now had graceful copper sigils across their arms and legs. “They all have copper marks now.”
“How is that possible?” I murmured, tracing the elegant pattern on Shep’s arm.
“You restored them,” Micah murmured, pressing his lips against my temple. “Now, they are more than just silver.”
I smiled, though I didn’t think we’d start calling them the copperkin anytime soon. “You see, Mom?” I asked, carrying Shep over to her, and displaying his newly decorated arms. “There’s part of me in them now, too. You can’t hurt them without hurting me.”
Her mouth was twisted up in an unflattering way, but she relented. “Fine. If they bother me, I’ll just send for their mistress.”
I cuddled Shep at that, as much as one can cuddle a metal being. He swatted my arm with his tiny hand, but made no attempt to escape. “Good.”
8
It didn’t take all that much longer for the silverkin to sort themselves out and, wouldn’t you know it, they were immediately back to their energetic little selves. Instead of taking time to recover, they were off sweeping floors, straightening drapes, and making tea by the gallon. Despite their recent adventure in slumberland, they were apparently none the worse for wear. About the only thing the little guys were doing differently was giving my mother a wide, respectful berth. That was a very, very smart move on their part.
As for me, I couldn’t stop staring at them. Each and every ’kin, from Shep on down to the littlest sweeper, now bore flowing copper spirals across their arms and legs. The calm, rational portion of my brain understood that these new copper sigils had only appeared because of my exposure to their sparks, nothing more. Still, I took it as a sign that I finally belonged in the Otherworld.
“Of course you belong,” Micah said, when I shared why I was smiling. We had remained in the garden long after Mom and Sadie had gone inside, and we were contentedly watching the silverkin harvest fruit. After all the hubbub of this afternoon, there needed to be pie in my future. “My Sara, the Whispering Dell is your home as much as mine.”
“It’s not.” I hadn’t meant to sound so whiney. “You were born here. I’m from another world—literally, another world. It’s not like I fit in.”
Micah laughed, a warm, rumbling sound. “Does anyone ‘fit’ in the Otherworld?” he asked, while his arm made a sweeping gesture, encompassing both the manor and the lands beyond. “I have servants of metal rather than flesh and blood, and a nymph resides in my pool. Beyond the pool is a wood witch, who would strangle me as soon as greet me good morning. My village is populated with all manner of Elementals and beasts, and more than a few Mundanes. We are none of us alike.”