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standard whine I had about being kept in the dark all the freaking time, but then Quin took my hand. He raised it up, our fingers interlaced, and then gently touched the middle of my forehead.
    And then I saw it, heard it, felt it.
    It's about power,
    And love.
    You have to ask.
    Decide to give up something.
    Plead your case to the father.
    And then you dance for her,
    The woman who is always old,
    Father will answer you through her,
    And then you are divided,
    But whole. And more.
    My head started to hurt. Too much information. I saw dancing, and tears, and longing, and great joy, what looked like generations of it. Throughout time. The connection broke, and my mind became mine again, but he held on to my hand, kept me steady.
    "Let me see if I got that right. You have to ask Bathala for a child?"
    "He has to allow it, yes."
    "And you have this, like, fertility dance?"
    He shook his head. "Yes, it's a dance, but it's not about fertility. If one of us wants a child with a human, we have to ask. The dance is... Father gives his answer through someone."
    "The old woman." She looked old, in that vision he gave me, but she seemed to have looked old as far back as Quin could remember. It gave me the smallest of creeps.
    "Yes. It's a request done in the language she prefers. The dance is Kata's language. "
    Yeah, that sounded complicated. "So... is there sex involved in any part of this process?"
    I could have sworn that one of his fingers gently caressed my hand. I could have sworn it.
    "Not really. That," Quin said, "we choose to do for fun."
    And maybe a sly smile.
    But that, I couldn't swear to.
    "Would you do it? Would you dance for the woman and ask for a child?"
    "I can't imagine why."
    "So you've never...?"
    "No. I'm not your ancestor, if that's what you were thinking."
    Oh no. I wasn't thinking that at all.
    "You're handling that well, by the way," Quin said, "Just now, the vision I shared with you. I was hoping you were ready, but I wasn't sure."
    My heart, it was seriously going to burst. What was it with Quin lately? So full of affirmation. It made me want to brag. "For what, complicated thoughts? I'm so ready. I can handle the thoughts, the telepathy, the dreams, you name it."
    "Dreams?" he said. "Are you still having those?"
    "Um, sometimes." And then I mentally kicked myself, because I wasn't entirely honest about the content of those dreams. Especially now that they had progressed to an 18-and-above rating.
    Just when I thought I was happy and calm, my heart started to race, and fill with anxiety. It was confusing, and then I realized that it wasn't my own heart.
    Robbie is coming.
    No, Robbie is here.
    I pulled my hand away and leaped into just-friends distance, just as Robbie, possibly my boyfriend Robbie , joined us on the roof.
    Also in practice gear. Because he was also a basketball player. "What's going on?" he said.
    As he stood there, as the third point in what was now a literal triangle, I could sense what he was thinking.
    He wanted to kiss me in front of Quin.
    But he wanted to know if I would allow it.
    Quin "heard" this too, loud and clear.
    "Thanks for tutoring me, Hannah," he said, bowing slightly, and backing away. "You can skip practice today, Robbie. You two spend time together. I'll tell Coach you're sick or something."
    I forced a smile as we both watched Quin jog to the stairwell. Robbie's heart was still thump thump thumping his distrust.
    That didn't look like tutoring was he holding her hand that doesn't make sense
    Quin could have told him not to worry. He could have made the jealousy go away, with a simple nudge of his finger. Don't worry, Robbie. I'm not going after your girl.
    But he didn't. Arg. He left it to me to do it.
    So I extended a hand, and pulled Robbie closer to me. "Good morning," I said, and smiled as I kissed him. He responded with more passion than I expected on a Tuesday morning, before breakfast.
    It was like he felt he had to fight for me, or something. This was how