[Xander – 12 years]

  I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't want to socialize more this week, last night was already enough. But when Austin texted me and asked if I was going to go to Youth Group today… I decided to go. Maybe I like hanging out with others more than I thought?

  It would definitely explain why I decided to hang out with others again when I got asked even though I want to take a break from socializing this week.

  Not that it matters now. They can definitely see me so they already know I'm here. Leaving now would be bad and might mean Austin won't want to be friends anymore. I hop off of my hoverboard and stick it and my pads, gloves, and helmet into my backpack, pull out Trenton. As ready as I can be for this, I enter the church and make my way to where the middle schooler part of the Youth Group meets.

  At least, where I remember it meeting. Fortunately, I seem to pick the right room as I can see Austin in here along with other middle schoolers.

  "Hi, Xander!" Austin waves at me as I enter.

  "Hi," I wave back as he approaches.

  "Glad you made it," he holds out a fist, and I bump it with one of my own before bumping it with one of Trenton's paws. "You can get a snack if you want, they're over there."

  "Okay."

  I walk over to the table with the refreshments on it and move Trenton to my shoulder as I grab a bowl and stick some fruit in it. The plate with cookies has some chocolate-chip cookies and chocolate cookies, so I don't touch that, but I do get myself a little bit of dip for the fruit and a cup of lemonade. Austin's sitting where Russell sat the last time I was here, and he call out to me and pats the seat I'd sat in then when I start looking for a spot.

  "So you can use telekinesis to hold him on your shoulder?" Austin asks. "Is that what you're doing?"

  "Yeah," I move Trenton to my lap after sitting down. "It frees up my hands."

  "That's pretty cool," he says. "Do you watch any cartoons?"

  "Not really," I answer. "But I sometimes see one when one of my relatives is watching it at the workshop."

  "One of your relatives?"

  "Yeah," I nod. "His name's Greyson, and he's one of my second-cousins. It's the kids' cartoon about a muffin army. It seems really weird."

  "I don't think I know it," Austin tells me. "I'm watching a few airing this season…"

  He tells me about the cartoons he's watching, but I don't really understand the plots he's telling me. Some of the other kids here do, though, and they talk about the latest episodes with Austin. One of the things that confuses me is beastkin, so they explain that to me. Apparently, some of the cartoons have people who have the tails and ears of animals. They aren't animals, so they still look mostly human and aren't furry.

  That's… strange. But also interesting. How does being a beastkin work? Are their senses from their human side or their non-human side? According to the other kids, it depends on the cartoon, and it might even be somewhere between the two.

  By the time it's five-o'clock and the session begins, there are only six of us kids and the two adults. That's a lot fewer than the last time I was here.

  It's also eight people, which isn't good. Even split into adults and youth is bad numbers.

  "This looks like it's it," Ms. Kimberly says once everyone's attention on her. "The high schoolers only have a couple, too. That's expected, though, since a lot of families are doing an end-of summer trip this week."

  Oh, right. Sig and the others are all on a camping trip, and so is Luke. Parker's somewhere, too, but I'm not sure where. It's not with his parents and they didn't tell me (I didn't ask), so I'm assuming he's probably visiting some other family. I guess it makes sense a lot of people would be doing an end-of-summer trip this week, since next week is the last one before school resumes.

  Which means that next week will likely have a lot of back-to-school prep. There was always a lot for us to do at the orphanage in the last week of summer vacation.

  "Let's start with tonight's prayer," Ms. Kimberly says, then looks at me. "And Xander, you don't have to participate if you don't want to. We know you're not religious."

  She remembered that even though it's been awhile since we last saw each other? That's impressive.

  "Okay."

  Ms. Kimberly leads everyone in a prayer, and I don't participate. I also don't participate in the lesson. Once it ends, there's then a discussion, sort of like how it went the last time I was here. Is that the normal format for this? A prayer, a lesson, and then a discussion?

  "What do you think happens after death?" Ms. Kimberly asks the group. "There are a lot of different theories, and of the many religions, few agree on something. I want to know your thoughts on it. Yes, Austin?"

  "We go to heaven, hell, or purgatory depending on what we did in life," he answers. "When we die, we get judged by the Angel of Judgment and if we lived good lives, we go to heaven. If not, we go to hell. If it's iffy, we go to purgatory, where our souls linger until our actions and thoughts there shift us toward heaven or hell, then we get rejudged and sent to whichever one we're now fit for. Heaven is an eternal paradise, hell is eternal punishment, and purgatory is eternal… boringness?"

  What? What kind of nonsense is that? The other four kids here all seem to agree with him on that, though. They all give similar answers or just say they agree with it.

  "What about you?" Ms. Kimberly asks me. "You don't have to participate, but do you have thoughts on what happens after death?"

  "Yeah," I nod. "I think our souls just stop being. We live and then we die and that's it. In most cases. There are reasons a soul might linger around, but once it finally moves on, it stops being."

  I look down at Trenton, then at Ms. Kimberly.

  "Trenton sort of disagrees," I say. "He says that our souls come from the soul plane, which is just a massive plane of soul energy. How much soul energy forms into a soul determines how powerful a soul is. He's tried explaining what that means to me, but it makes my head spin. Anyway, when we die, he claims that the energy in our soul dissipates, but its essence remains behind and seeps and absorbs into the world. That, in turn, adds more life and magic to the world. But Trenton has weird views on things."

  Nobody else here really knows what to say to Trenton's claims, so the lesson-and-discussion session ends. The high schoolers are already in the Fellowship Hall, and there are only two of them. That's eight youth total, and twelve people total. Not good numbers.

  As with last time, the other middle schoolers put cash in a basket on a table. If I remember correctly, that's to help pay for dinner. There we go, now I've put money in, too. Without anyone looking. That means no one will ask me about the amount like what happened last time with the dummy.

  I eat more than others, so I should pay or donate more than others. That's how it works.

  The other kids start playing basketball, but I don't want to do that so I sit to the side and watch. Since that makes the teams uneven, one of the other kids sits out. Meredith, a girl entering the seventh grade when school resumes, joins me in watching the others play.

  "-and you don't watch any cartoons?" She asks.

  She apparently decided that since we're both not playing, she's going to talk with me. A lot. The current topic she's picked is just resuming the cartoons discussion from before the opening session.

  "No."

  "What kind of stuff do you watch?"

  "Documentaries."

  "Really?" She asks. "What kind?"

  "Usually animal documentaries," I answer. "The one I watched earlier was about a species of hare that can jump through space, sort of like teleportation. They're rare and difficult to find, and their hides make for good hosts for spatial magic."

  "Like the spatial expansion on your backpack?"

  "Yeah," I nod. "The better the material is for it, the better the enchantment you can place. Though you can also do a better enchantment by putting in more mana, too, as long as you keep it stable as you do."

  "That's cool," she says. "So the hares teleport?"

  "Sort of," I say. "But not quite teleporting. It's slightly different, but hard to explain. It's like, um… they're not instantly appearing in a spot the moment they leave another, and they have to hop to do their jumps. I think that's why it's called 'jumps'. It's more like they're shifting into a pocket dimension, then shifting back out in another spot."

  "So that's why it's not teleportation?" She asks. "Because they're actually going somewhere else first?"

  "Yeah," I nod. "They move through that space, then pop back out. So it's not teleportation, but they're still using spatial magic to move around."

  "That's pretty neat," she says. "Can you teleport? Or just do spatial expansion enchantments?"

  "I can teleport," I tell her. "I do it a lot."

  "But you rode the hoverboard here?" She asks. "Why would you do that if you can just teleport? Or is it because it costs a lot of mana?"

  "The mana cost isn't that high for how much I have," I tell her. "But using the hoverboard feels like what I imagine a dragon would feel like while gliding close to the ground."

  "Really?" She asks. "How much mana do you have?"

  "Um…" I try to think of the answer, but I don't know the amount. "A lot. I don't know the exact amount, I just know that I have more than Greyson."

  "That's the cousin you mentioned earlier, right?"

  "Second-cousin."

  Meredith keeps talking, but it's hard for me to follow what she's saying after that. It's mostly her trying to find out what kind of stuff I'm into, but the discussions on those seem to bore her. By the time the adults are putting out food for dinner, I just want to run away from her and hide somewhere. Too much talking.

  Way too much talking.

  Fortunately, I can help the adults put things out and that requires significantly less talking, so I excuse myself from the discussion and help the adults.

  There wasn't anything ordered today. Instead, it's stuff that was bought ahead of time, but I'm sure it still costs them a decent amount of money to do that. That's why they still accept donations to help cover the costs.

  Today's dinner is build-your-own sandwiches, with a couple of different bun/roll breads to choose from and ham, turkey, chicken, and beef for the meat. There are also four different cheeses, lettuce, spinach leaves, onion slices, pickle slices, and condiments. For sides, that are fruits and veggies, and the drinks are water, lemonade, and tea. I help mix the lemonade, which I make sure is not weak.

  Last but not least, there are cookies and brownies for dessert. I don't touch the plates of them that the others put out, but I do add a few boxes from my backpack to the table. One box of lemon cookies with powdered sugar dusting, a box of oatmeal-raisin cookies, and a box of snickerdoodles. There are three dozen and three cookies in each box, so it's not likely that they'll all get eaten here, but that's okay.

  "These cookies are super good!" Austin tells me as he eats a snickerdoodle after dinner. "Did you make them?"

  "Yeah," I nod. "I bake a lot when I get stressed or anxious. So I make a lot of cookies. Also blondies, no chocolate, and pie and cheesecake. Sometimes muffins."

  "That's cool," he says. "Do you do it from scratch from a box?"

  Scratch is from the plain ingredients, if I remember correctly. Where I measure out and mix up everything like the sugar and flour and stuff.

  "Scratch," I answer. "Katie's taught me a lot of recipes, and she even encourages me to try and tweak them a little on my own."

  "Did you do that for these?" He holds up the snickerdoodle he's taken a few bites out of.

  "No," I answer. "But I did for the lemon cookies. I like them better with a little bit more lemon to them, but I had to do some other tweaks to make sure it stayed balanced."

  Messing up the cookies was awful, but Katie didn't get mad at me for wasting ingredients. I made sure to eat the entire batch so that it wasn't fully wasted. Also so that no one else would eat my mistakes.

  "That's cool," he says. "I can't bake from scratch. I have to do it from a box or I mess it up."

  "I made a lot of mistakes, too," I tell him. "But as long as I follow the recipes exactly, I usually don't."

  I manage to finish my food without having to engage in too much more conversation, but most of the others compliment me on the cookies. After everyone's done eating, we're all moved outside. I don't really know what I want to play, but most of the others wanted to move outside so everyone is – there's apparently a rule that there has to be at least two youth and two adults in an area for activities.

  "It's a safety thing," Austin explains to me as we move outside. "There's not really an issue here since everyone's good, but it makes sure a kid isn't alone with adults, and an adult isn't alone with kids."

  That's definitely for safety. He's right that everyone here is good – they all have blessings from the gods – but it's still good to be safe. What if someone new shows up and isn't good? Yeah, it's better to be safe.

  "What if there aren't enough middle schoolers?" I ask. "Or enough high schoolers? Just one that day? Or only three adults?"

  "Then the groups combine into one," he answers.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  "Oh."

  That makes a lot of sense.

  Rather than playing on the parking lot, everyone moves to a hilly area behind the church building. There's more parking space here, but also a wooded section in addition to the grassy one. As we reach the edge of the parking lot, I spot a swimming pool in the ground, though it has its cover over and gate locked.

  "Your church has a swimming pool?" I ask.

  "Yup!" Austin answers. "It was donated by someone about thirty years ago!"

  "How do you donate a pool?"

  "They paid for it," Mr. Blake tells me. "Did have to receive permission to have one installed, but it was approved with conditions, such as a magitech cover and lock, to ensure safety, as well as a barrier over the whole thing. It does get used, though."

  I can see the barrier, even if it's probably invisible to most people. It protects the fence and creates a sort of dome over it. That's definitely meant to keep people out when it's not in use.

  "Like next week!" Casey, an eleven-year-old, tells me. "It's the last Youth Group before school resumes for most of us, so we're having a party!"

  "Oh."

  A few of the others play on a tire swing, while the rest of the other kids throw a ball around. I don't feel comfortable joining in, so I sit to the side and watch them play. The other kids don't seem to want me to be left alone and switch out who's talking with me. Not in a "my turn!" sort of way, just that when one comes over, the other continues to chat for another minute or so, then joins the other kids.

  "Alright, everyone!" Ms. Kimberly calls out as it nears eight in the evening. "Time to start getting ready to head home!"

  We all move back to the Fellowship Hall and after the others grab their backpacks (I kept mine with me), Ms. Kimberly calls out again.

  "Remember," she says. "Next week, we're having a party and will be opening up the pool! You can wear or bring swimwear, but make sure it's appropriate!"

  "Appropriate?" I ask.

  "Yeah," Austin says. "For boys, that means something like swim trunks. No swim briefs or stuff like that. It has to go past your fingertips when you put your hands down."

  "Oh."

  Ms. Kimberly tells everyone some more stuff, then we all leave, with most of the kids getting picked up. One of the high schoolers has his own car, so he drove himself here and is driving home. I could ride my hoverboard home, but Trey is picking me up so that I don't have to ride it tired.

  Even if I could just teleport instead.

  "Thanks for hanging out," Austin tells me as we walk toward where his dad's waiting. "You're a pretty cool dude, Xander."

  "I had fun," I tell him. "Thanks for inviting me."

  "You can come again next week!" He tells me. "There'll be more kids next week 'cause of the party, and we're doing pizza for dinner again! And there's going to be cake and ice cream! Are you gonna come?"

  "Um… I'm not sure," I open up my backpack. "Here."

  "What's this?" He asks. "Hey! Those are boxes like what you had the cookies in!"

  "Yeah," I say. "I've got a lot of extras. Thanks for inviting me tonight."

  "You don't need to give me cookies!"

  "I know," I say. "But I'm offering anyway. Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had a lot of fun."

  Austin looks confused, but also happy as he accepts the three boxes.

  "Oh," I say. "But the bottom one isn't cookies, it's maple fudge. No chocolate. It's a lot heavier than the cookies, which is why it's on the bottom."

  "Oooh!" He says. "Sounds delicious!"

  "I like it," I nod. "I hope you enjoy it, Austin. And again, thanks for inviting me."

  "You're welcome!" He says. "Have a good night, Xander!"

  "Have a good night," I tell him, then he gets into his dad's car.

  I walk over to Trey's SUV and climb into the backseat, setting my backpack beside me and Trenton on my lap.

  "Did you have fun?" Trey asks as I buckle.

  "Yeah," I answer. "But I think I'm gonna fall asleep on the way home."

  "That's alright," he says. "Do you want me to wake you when we get there, or should I just carry you up to your bed?"

  "Um… whichever one you decide on."

  "Alright," he chuckles. "Get some rest, Xander."

  [Sig – 13 years] → starts during Xander's PoV

  "Hup!" I grunt as I stand back up, Connor now riding on my back with his arms across my chest and legs wrapped around my waist. "You're holding on tight, right?"

  "Uh… no?" He snickers, then adjusts his arms so that he's holding me properly. "Alright, ready!"

  I bounce a little, then charge down the path through the woods. We're going down a slope and there are some roots and sticks here and there that I have to be careful of. Running with my friend on my back is awkward, and the terrain only makes it worse, but this is so much fun!

  We nearly reach where the ground levels out before I trip, causing the two of us to tumble. Connor releases me the moment we start going down, and we bang against each other as little as we roll. While he's not that great at catching himself in a fall, I manage to only roll a little before springing to my feet, fists pumped up into the air.

  "Haha!" I shout. "That was perfect!"

  "Sure it was!" Connor picks himself up off of the ground and brushes his shorts for a moment before inspecting a cut he got. "Maybe next time, don't fall?"

  We both have some scratches from that, though his are a little worse than mine apart from one on my side. That could be because of my body being a little bit tougher than his thanks to me having twice as much mana, but I think he also just needs to work on his rolls. I've gotten so many fewer injuries after I learned how to turn falls into rolls.

  "As if you'd manage to get as far!" I stick my tongue out for a moment before looking back to the top of the hill. "Sam! Isaac! Your turn!"

  Sam's on Isaac's back, and Isaac begins charging down the hill. He only makes it halfway before he falls, the two of them rolling quite a lot before coming to a stop. One of Isaac's shoes flies off during their tumble, and Sam rolls straight into a tree. They both get up with grins on their faces as I snatch Isaac's shoe.

  "Hey!" He exclaims when he realizes I grabbed it. "Give it back!"

  Isaac starts running over to me.

  "Connor, catch!" I toss the shoe to Connor.

  That doesn't stop Isaac from tackling me anyway and we end up on the ground, trying to put each other into a headlock. All three of my friends have had some martial arts lessons, including how to grapple, while my experience with it is mainly from them teaching me what they learned. Isaac actually uses some of the techniques he knows before I realize what he's doing, and I do my best to overpower him with my strength.

  Connor and Sam join in, jumping onto us and turning it into a four-way wrestling match. I manage to get an advantage on Connor and put him into a headlock, only for Sam and Isaac to free Connor and try to pin me down. Then, Connor does his best to free me and manages to get Isaac off of me.

  We keep wrestling around like this until the dads call out to us, and we look up at the top of the hill where they're walking, Aunt Rachel included. They must have decided to go for a walk on the path as well.

  "Hi, dads!" We call out as they follow the path down to us.

  Since the dads are coming, we stop wrestling and Isaac retrieves his shoe and slips it back on. Then we wait for them to join us. That takes a minute since the hill is a decent size, the path curves a bit, and they're walking at a leisurely pace.

  "Thought you boys were going for a walk?" Mr. Richardson says as they reach us. "We get on the trail, and find you wrestling five minutes in instead."

  The trail takes about an hour to walk in total, with a lake a little bit off of the path at one point.

  "You've all got cuts," Aunt Rachel says. "Wrestling here probably isn't the best of ideas."

  "Oh, that's not from wrestling!" Sam says. "At least, probably not most of 'em! We ran down the hill and fell! Look! I scratched up back hitting a tree!"

  "Sam!" Mr. Richardson exclaims upon seeing Sam's back. "You need to clean that off!"

  "But we're just going to go jump in the lake when we're done," Isaac says. "So it's not like-"

  "Nope," Mr. Thompson says. "Not with fresh scratches, you aren't. Come on, let's get back to camp so we can clean those. You're not getting infected on this camping trip."

  "You, too, Sig," Aunt Rachel's voice is stern. "You might be tough, but that's a lot of scratches."

  "It's just one really big one," I poke at a spot above the bigger scratch on my side. "The rest are all minor. They won't get infected, and-huh?"

  "Huh, what?" Aunt Rachel asks, concern now in her voice.

  It's not something for her to be concerned about, I don't think. Well, based on what I've heard, there's a chance for explosions so there might be reason for concern. But we won't know for sure until they happen.

  "Over there," I point off to the side, and everyone looks in that direction.

  It's Greyson, Xander's second-cousin. He's dressed in cargo shorts, sneakers, and a golden sleeveless shirt. His backpack's on his back and he's got a clear insect box in his hands, its lid golden in color.

  The kid's crouched down and is examining something. He's so focused on it, he doesn't react to my approach until I'm almost right beside him.

  "Don't be loud," he whispers. "You'll scare it off."

  Did he just use magic to carry his voice to me? I think he did, and to carry it to the others, too, since they all quiet their approaches. I look back and find that they're moving more slowly now as well, then I crouch beside the kid.

  "Scare what off?" I whisper.

  "There," he points, and I spot what got his attention.

  It's a butterfly with brown and green wings that's sitting on a branch of a bush. Its wing patterns make it nearly blend in. The others all crouch down and watch the butterfly for a few moments, and I can tell that my friends are dying to ask about it just as much as I am.

  Slowly, Greyson opens the lid of his insect box, then he slowly moves his hand to beside the butterfly. A small nudge from him, and it moves onto his hand. He then carefully puts it into the box and closes the lid, then lets out a big breath.

  "Okay," he stands up. "I've got her now. Thanks for not scaring her off while I was figuring out if she was the right kind."

  "The right kind?" Connor asks. "There's more than one butterfly that looks like that?"

  "No," Greyson answers. "But I didn't want to capture her if she doesn't possess the right level of magic. I could tell on sight that she had enough mana to potentially have it, but I had to observe her effects on the bush. She's a blossomwing butterfly, a type of butterfly with nature magics which influences the growth rates of plants they touch. By analyzing how the bush grows while she was on it, I was able to determine that her inherent magics are high enough to be used in the potion."

  The fact that he can tell a growth rate which is probably extremely small just by watching for a few minutes is impressive. I only really know three Lumaria Kings, and they're all impressive. It's no wonder they're all regarded as powerful, talented mages.

  "In the… potion?" I ask.

  "Yeah," he nods. "I'm going to grind up her wings and use them in a potion that helps plants grow faster. Dad and Papa said I can grow a garden in the back yard, so I want some high-quality fertilizers for it."

  "What are you going to grow?" I ask.

  "You use butterfly wings for fertilizer?" Sam asks in horror.

  "It's alchemy," Greyson says. "All sorts of things can be used for it. Ever been given magical medicine? It probably has insect parts in it, or something like that. Some healing salves use troll blood as an ingredient. Oh! You're all Xander's friends, aren't you?"

  Did he just recognize us?

  "You're all hurt," he says. "Did you get attacked? I heard there's a bear attacking people. One of my brothers got hit by it yesterday."

  Considering how calmly he said that, I doubt his brother got hurt. That suggests he doesn't realize how far from home he's teleported.

  "The bear throwing balloons filled with honey?" I ask. "That's not the same thing… and about a hundred and fifty miles northeast of here."

  "Oh," he says. "Well, maybe you got attacked by something out here? I did see a wolf with wind magics earlier."

  "You saw a wolf?" Mr. Thompson suddenly moves closer. "Where? How far away?"

  "Oh, it's gone now," Greyson looks at the butterfly in his box. "It tried attacking me while I was looking at a different blossomwing butterfly, so I eliminated it. I think it was the only one in the area."

  His "elimination" of the bear probably included explosions.

  "We didn't get attacked," I tell him. "We were goofing around and got scratched up."

  "Ah," he lowers his box, then tucks it under an arm as he gestures at us. "Here."

  All of our injuries heal in an instant, and I poke at where the bigger scratch had been. It's gone, just like that.

  "You're a healer?" Sam asks.

  "No," Greyson asks. "I learned healing magics while learning some other stuff for my big project. I know a wide variety of magics, but am primarily a dreamsage with temporal and dimensional magics."

  "What's a dreamsage?"

  "A specialized type of mind mage," he answers, then looks at me. "Oh, and to answer your question, cucumbers, kale, and spinach. I'd like to plant some other stuff, but it seems we're too late in the season for that, unless my search online was incorrect. But this is the right time for a second planting of those three, and they're useful in salads. Anyway, I need to find more of the butterflies, so I'll be off."

  "Wait!" I say. "Before you go, can I get a picture with you?"

  "A picture?" He asks. "Why?"

  "We're taking a lot of pictures of stuff that happened while we're out here!" I tell him. "We do it whenever we go camping, including if we meet people we know! If they let us, anyway. And since we kind of know you, it counts! I did meet you when Carter was recording a video, and you came to the last two barbecues for the beta testing."

  "Oh," he says. "Okay, I can agree to that. But don't put your arm across my shoulders, I know you like doing that. I do not like my shoulders being touched."

  "Okay!" I move next to him as I give Connor my phone.

  "Say 'butterfly'," Connor tells us.

  "Butterfly!" I grin as Greyson just says, "Butterfly."

  "Uh… with a smile, Greyson," Connor says.

  "Oh, sorry," Greyson smiles. "Like this?"

  "Yep!" Connor answers. "And there!"

  "Can I see?" Greyson asks as Connor hands me back my phone, and I show the picture. "Oh. I look better in the one where I'm smiling."

  "Yup!" I say. "Thanks for letting us take the picture!"

  "Are you going to post it online?"

  "We don't do that," I tell him. "Just share it with each other and maybe put it into a picture album. Why?"

  "Because it'd be rude to do it without asking first," he says. "And I'd have to go in and delete it from everything if you did that."

  "Uh… and how would you do that?" Sam asks.

  "Hacking."

  "That's illegal," Sams says. "And we'd notice suspicious links and stuff, anyway."

  "Not that kind of hacking," Greyson says. "That's just dumb, and I'm not dumb. I can hack into the internet itself."

  "That's a pretty sophisticated piece of magitech," Sam points out. "And magitech is already inherently impossible to hack even before the security guards your great-grandfather probably has in place to prevent it."

  "Hm?" Greyson frowns. "Well, I get why people think that, but that statement's incorrect. Grandfather Adrian keeps telling me to stop hacking into it. In fact, he keeps changing its structure to make it more difficult every time he catches me. Anyway, I do want to get more of the butterflies with enough magic to be useful, so I'll be going now. Bye."

  Greyson vanishes, and we look at the dads.

  "So ignoring the weird kid," I say. "What's the excuse for telling us not to go jump in the lake once we get there?"

  "You're not wearing swim trunks," Aunt Rachel says.

  "Psh!" I say. "That's never stopped us before!"

  "You're not skinny dipping!"

  "I didn't say we would!" I say as my friends snicker. "We can just swim in our shorts! It's not like the lake'll destroy them! Especially since it's freshwater, so there's no salt to ruin them!"

  "Why don't we all head back to camp," Mr. Michaels says. "And eat dinner, then you boys can change into your swim trunks and go to the lake after? We'll let you swim until after dark if we do this instead."

  "Night swimming?" Isaac asks. "Yeah!"

  The rest of us agree to that as well. The dads don't often let us go swimming at night when we're camping, especially not when there's a big walk to the swimming area and it doesn't have non-natural lighting. There's no way we're going to pass that up, so dinner first is a fair trade.

  "Back to the camp!" I say. "Last one there's a rotten egg!"

  [Gresyon – 10 years]

  "Greyson?" Dad asks. "What's in that bottle?"

  All of the seeds have been planted, the soil has been replaced, and it's time for my magic fertilizer. Dad did more research into planting than I did, so we have more than just the three crops I was going to do in the garden we made today. I just looked up what was in season that I wanted. Dad looked up if we can plant things together, as well as about crops other than the ones I wanted.

  Apparently, there's a thing called "companion planting" which is used to help deter certain pests and promote growth.

  As if it was actually necessary. I put wards on the beams we used to outline the garden to chase off unwanted insects, and magic can be used to make the soil right. But Dad said it'll benefit us to have the other things as well.

  In all fairness, having dill will be useful, since we can use it to make dill pickles with some of the cucumbers.

  As for the bottle he's asking about… it's a hard-sided bottle with clear sides that are tinted dark green. That makes the green liquid inside seem even darker than it really is despite its faint glow. If it wasn't for the glow, Dad probably wouldn't care too much about it.

  "Fertilizer potion," I answer as I open the top. "It should make it so everything grows approximately 10.34921% faster. That might not seem like much if they take sixty days or more, but shaving off a week is quite a lot. In addition, they'll grow better as well, and should result in approximately 23.9153% more crops. All of that is in theory. I haven't properly tested it, but the magic will work."

  "I'm not so sure about that," he doesn't feel sure, either.

  "It's based on fertilizer potions recipes that already exist," I tell him. "All of the data comes from those. It'll work, what I'm not fully certain on is the exact percentage boosts. You're not going to stop me, are you? I did pay for all of the stuff we used. The soil, the beams, the seeds, the plants, everything."

  "Excuse you?" Dad raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you say earlier that you didn't have enough allowance money to cover it? And it was my card I swiped at the store."

  "But we worked out an agreement on how I'll pay for it all," I tell him. "So it's my garden."

  "It's the family's garden," Dad says. "That was part of the agreement."

  I sigh, then teleport the small binder I prepared from my bedroom to my left hand.

  "Here," I say. "The magic data I used to create the fertilizer potion. It contains all of my sources and their exact quotes, recipes, et cetera. You can look it up if you're not sure. But it's just a fertilizer potion, not some weird experiment."

  Dad sighs and gives in, allowing me to use the fertilizer potions. It's a good thing I prepared extra just in case, since a lot more got planted than I expected. I pour exactly one teaspoon of the potion onto the soil at each spot something was planted at. Once I'm done, I look at Dad, who's looking through the pages of the binder with a blank expression.

  He can hide his expression from me, but I can feel his emotions. The ones he's feeling are extremely clear to me.

  "You don't understand a word of what's in that, do you?" I ask.

  "Nope."

  "If you want," I say. "I can explain it to you."

  "Can you do it in simple terms?"

  "That can be arranged."