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could grow up pretty and healthy.”
    Grandpa laughed. “That girl got you whipped, boy.”
    “Oh, you hush,” Mom said quietly. “Or I’ll rearrange your clusters.”
    Grandpa muttered a few more minutes, but fell silent. Magenta and Mom had this worked out, I could see.
    “Not a lot at once,” she said. “And not forever. Just a small group, let them get all doctored up and then send them home. We could teach them too. Maybe set up some trade, you know?”
    “We just need some time,” I said, sitting at her feet, my hand on the baby’s back. “We can take the VTOL down, do some preliminary healing and such, get some vaccines made up with Mom’s help, show some good faith?”
    Magenta smiled at me and nodded. “That’s good thinking.”
    I knew she was humoring me. Letting me feel like I had a say in the matter. It was all right, though. She and Mom were right. I needed to open up, help those others out there.
    “Perhaps for Mauve’s first birthday. We can arrange to pick up a small group of them. See what happens.”
    Magenta rose, placing little Mauve in the crib I’d made from the bones of my father.
    I stood, watching her fuss with the baby a moment, then moved beside her. They were both so beautiful.
    “Okay, and we can send a care package down their way right now, trade for Dad’s head, maybe?”
    “Whatever you say,” she said. When she turned to kiss me she glowed with a golden light.

ABOUT the AUTHOR

    J. A. PITTS is a graduate of the Oregon Coast Writers Workshops, holds degrees in English and Library Science, and is the author of the novels Black Blade Blues, Honeyed Words and Forged in Fire . The short story that launched the series was the anthology Swordplay , edited by Denise Little. His other short fiction has been published in Fortean Bureau , Talebones, Zombie Raccoons and Killer Bunnies, The Trouble with Heroes, and Courts of Fey.