Basil sat on the couch for a minute shaking out his arms and legs. They were tingling just like they would if they had fallen asleep. He found that having the feeling all over his body was incredibly uncomfortable. He surmised that this was just the start of what he would experience if he dream walked for more than four or five hours. A large yawn escaped him when he stood up. He grabbed some clothes from his back pack and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. After his shower, while getting dressed, he felt a twinge in his formerly injured leg and winced. His mom had healed it well, as it was no longer an open wound. However, the skin around the scarring was a mottled green color that he thought he should be concerned about.

The clock on Larue’s kitchen wall read 7:15am when he walked into the kitchen. His sister was still sound asleep, and he had yet to see Larue. Basil had nothing better to do, so he started to root around Larue’s cabinets and fridge in order to make breakfast. He decided on eggs, ham, toast, and some instant coffee. He saw the bathroom light flicker on out of the corner of his eye. It had to be Larue because Birdie was sprawled out on the lounge chair. Larue entered the kitchen just as he finished preparing three cups of instant coffee. She was dressed in an all-black get up with a long sleeve t-shirt, uncomfortable looking leather pants, and knee-high lace up combat boots. Larue’s long dreads were fashioned into a ponytail. The black tear stains from the night before were gone. She held a packed bag in her hand that she dropped to the floor with a thud. Basil felt the shake of the floor when it hit. Larue came over to the counter and picked up one of the cups of coffee and some ham. Basil noted that she drank her coffee black, which didn’t surprise him at all. The pair didn’t address what had happened the night before. Instead they sipped their coffee and ate.

Larue spoke up after finishing what seemed like her tenth piece of ham.

“Does your leg still hurt,” she asked, knowing full well what Basil’s answer would be. She remembered him thinking about it the night before. Also, she was fairly certain that she could smell something foul festering just beneath his skin.

“Yes actually,” he said in surprise, “how did you know?”

“Well, for one I can smell it,” she replied. “Also, you’ve been favoring your left leg since we met.”

She gestured for him to sit on at her work bench and roll up his right pant leg. When he did she knelt to study it, poking and prodding every once in a while to see how he would react. Basil’s skin was an unpleasant green color.

“A shifter did this right?” she asked. Basil nodded in response. Larue stood up and grabbed one of the containers from off her work space. She knelt back down in front of him and grabbed a handful of the dust within. Larue rubbed the dust between her hands, saying something under her breath as she did. Basil couldn’t tell what because her head was down, and he couldn’t see her face. Slowly the white dust glowed silver between Larue’s hands. When all of it was so silver that it looked like liquid mercury Larue cupped her hands around his injured leg, careful not to scratch him with her sharp nails. Her hands we cold, but the dust was warm, almost uncomfortably so. Basil watched in awe as the green color slowly receded from his skin and the dust seeped into his pores. His leg looked completely normal when Larue took her hands away. He twisted it back and forth. There was only a small scar where each tooth punctured his leg. Basil stood up and walked to the kitchen. Larue followed. He noticed that the tips of her fingers were now black, but he ignored that.

“How did you do that?” he asked. There was excitement in his eyes.

“I activated the residual life in the dust and told it what I wanted it to do,” she explained. “That particular mix had some shifter teeth in it.”

“I thought magical creatures disintegrated when you kill them,” he questioned, thinking back to what happened when his mom had sent the message to Wakinyan.

“They do,” she confirmed. “That’s why I didn’t kill them. I just broke one off from the pack and wrestled it to the ground so I could pull out a few teeth.”

“What’s the difference between dead shifter dust and shifter teeth,” Basil asked in confusion.

“Dead shifter dust – dead anything dust – lacks life. It’s useless,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well than what about those tiny skeletons in the shadow boxes?” Basil questioned. “How come they’re not dust?”

“For some reason pixie bones don’t disintegrate if you get them into coffee quick enough,"Larue answered.

“Coffee?”

Larue nodded. “Some magical bones hold their form if they are cured in coffee quickly enough.”

Basil had just started to put his own coffee cup to his lips when she said that. He poured what remained down the drain instead.

“Will you teach me how to use the dust?” he asked.

Larue’s face contorted. Basil couldn’t tell what emotion he was seeing. “No.”

Basil frowned. The two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Larue heard a noise and looked over to find Birdie shuffling towards them rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning,” Larue said to her. Birdie didn’t respond, instead she focused in on the remaining cup of coffee and picked it up.

“Birdie doesn’t exactly do mornings well,” Basil told her with a grin. “She’ll be more responsive when she’s finished her coffee.”

Life seemed to return to Birdie’s eyes with each sip that she took. Birdie noticed that there was very little interaction between Basil and Larue, but she assumed that was because they didn’t have a way to communicate. She did notice the looks that Basil gave Laure when he thought she wasn’t looking. Birdie thought her brother might have a bit of a crush. Larue just studied her sharp nails. Birdie nibbled on toast, eggs, and ham in silence. When she was done her food and coffee she felt like herself again.

“You two look like someone died,” Birdie said, eying them both.

Larue rolled her eyes. “With the way you were sleeping I thought you had died.”

“Hey,” Birdie responded. ‘Some people are just not morning people.”

Larue snorted. “Go get dressed. Then all three of us can talk.”

Birdie left to take a shower. She did kind of stink. While she took a shower and got dressed Basil did the dishes. Larue sat at her work bench mixing together various dusts and herbs. When the mix was to her satisfaction she went to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses. Larue filled them with water and added equal portions of the mix to both cups before stirring them with a spoon. The drink looked about as appetizing as a mud pie. Larue turned back to Basil.

“You need to tell your sister that you can hear me when she comes back,” she told him.

Basil hesitated. Earlier Larue had said that would be up to him. “I said I’d do it eventually.”

Larue stepped closer to him and looked into his eyes. “Eventually is going to have to be now. There are things other than me that can read you and your sister’s minds. I need to protect you from them. To do that your sister needs to know.”

“Wait,” Basil said. “Can you can hear everything I’m thinking? Even when we’re not talking?”

“If try yes,” Larue confirmed. “But a person’s stream of conscious is generally filled with unintelligible, useless information.”

Basil was slightly embarrassed. He hoped that she hadn’t heard anything to bad coming from him. Larue heard the bathroom door close and took a step back from Basil just as Birdie rounded the corner.

Basil rubbed the back of his thick neck before taking a step towards his sister. Larue watched on, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Birdie,” he signed. “I need to tell you something.”

“Sure, what is it?” She asked.

“I can hear Larue in my head. I can speak to her and she can speak to me. If she tried she could listen to your thoughts as well,” Basil explained.

“What!” Birdie yelled, turning to look at Larue. "Have you been snooping around my head? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your brother wanted to be the one to tell you,” Larue said calmly to the now irate Birdie. “I can only hear you if I try. Also, anything I do hear is a secret. I would never tell another person without your consent.”

“Oh yeah, 'cause that makes me feel so much better,” Birdie said sarcastically. “Why did you even tell me? Why not just keep it a secret and spy on me.”

Larue sighed loudly. The girl could be so aggravating. “I told you because your brother was ready to tell you. Also, there are people and creatures other than myself that could easily read both your minds. You have a right to know.”

“And how exactly would knowing help,” Birdie sassed. Basil stood next to his sister looking ashamed. Nevertheless, he put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

“It won’t,” Larue said. “That’s why I made you these.”

Larue picked up the glasses she prepared early and held them out for the twins to take. This time she spoke to both of them. “If you drink this, your mind will be protected. I don’t have the time to teach you how to do it yourselves. Also, I will only be able to hear you if you reach out to me first.”

Basil and Birdie each grabbed a glass. Birdie eyed hers. Basil held his nose and gulped his down. When he finished he started to cough. Birdie took a cautious sip and nearly gagged. The drink was disgusting. She groaned but drank anyway. The unsavory taste and gritty texture were worth keeping her thoughts to herself.