Free Golden Girl by Sarah Zettel Page A

especially don’t magic anybody.”
    “I’ve told you, Callie, without you, I can’t lay any spells at all. That’s gone from me.”
    “I know what you said. Why should I believe you?”
    Shake was silent for a minute, as if this was a brand-new idea. “Very well.” He held up his hand. “See for yourself.”
    I stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
    “Come into my mind. You know it’s within your power. See for yourself what I am doing here.”
    I didn’t doubt I could do it. When I opened my magic, I could feel people’s wishes and wants. The idea that I could hear thoughts wasn’t that much of a stretch. But I saw the starlight sparkling in the back of Shake’s amber eye, and all of a sudden, memory took hold. I saw my mother, standing in the kitchen, arms folded. It was right after the banker had left. He’d been trying to get her to put up the Imperial as collateral for a new loan.
    Come into my parlor
, Mama muttered,
said the spider to the fly.…
    “No,” I told Shake. “You’re not getting hold of me that easy.” He’d already proved he could siphon off some of my power when I didn’t want him to; what was he going to be able to grab if I opened all the way up to him?
    “Callie, Callie.” Shake’s fist shook as he closed it. “You have to trust me.”
    “I don’t
have
to do anything. You’re nothing but a liar. You lied your way right in here!”
    “Your landlady did that to herself. She wished I was a respectable man, someone who could make the rent, and so I was.”
    “When I met you back in Kansas, you said you were my papa!”
    “I never did. I may have let you think I said it, but I never out-and-out said it myself.
We
are very good with words, Callie. We have to be in order to survive being near humans. But lies … that’s different. Every lie is a new story, and that kind of creativity is difficult for us.”
    I shook my head. I didn’t want to be talking about this, and I especially didn’t want to think about how humans might be dangerous to fairies. That did not sit well at all. Neither did the idea that my inability to lie might be a consequence of my fairy half. “You just stay here, and don’t do anything until I get back,” I muttered.
    “Am I allowed breakfast? After you made such a fuss in the hallway, it will look extremely odd if I don’t put in an appearance.”
    I gritted my teeth. “Okay. But you go straight back to your room afterward.”
    “I am your obedient uncle and servant, Callie.”
    There weren’t words enough in Webster’s dictionary for how much I did not believe that “obedient” bit.
    *  *  *
    Shake and I were the last ones into the dining room. Mrs. Constantine was bustling around, laying out ham, eggs, biscuits and gravy, milk, and coffee so her guests could help themselves. Not that everybody ate all that. Miss Whitman just had a half grapefruit and coffee, because she was an actress and had to watch her figure, she said. Mr. and Mrs. Jones kept to toast and butter and maybe a slice of ham. Miss Patty, though, she ate everything that came her way. She was the personal assistant to Miss Gina Lords, who was starring in a new picture this summer, and Miss Lords sometimes kept her running around all day and didn’t remember to give her time to get lunch.
    “Good morning, good morning!” said Shake as we took our seats at the table. He proceeded to introduce himself to one and all as my uncle Lawrence LeRoux. He shook hands with Mr. Jones, bestowed a sweet smile on all the ladies, and settled down to enjoy Mrs. Constantine’s breakfast.
    I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody eat so much, not even Jack after we’d been on the bum for a week getting from Kansas City to Los Angeles. Shake didn’t even have to help himself after the first biscuit. He just talked so much sugar to the ladies at the table, they were all batting their eyelashes at him and urging him to take another helping, even Mrs. Jones. Shake joked