Thirteen Years Earlier
Acubens ran down the foyer of Nightfeld Manor, each step squelching mud onto the polished black marble. His nursemaid would get mad if she saw him, but it wasn’t his fault he had to go all this way to show off his prize to Kit.
He, too, hated the distance involved! Down the foyer, into the main hall, up the sweeping spiral of the staircase. His legs were too short, so he had to take the steps one at a time, left foot way up, right foot up. He got impatient and tapped into his magic. Strength flooded his limbs. Now he could hop up the steps! Hop, hop, hop, just like—
He stumbled, and the frog spurted out of his hands.
“Ah!” Acubens windmilled his arms, regaining balance, and flung a frantic hand in its direction. The frog hopped onto the banister, then launched itself into the air—only to bounce against an invisible barrier. Stunned, it plopped to the ground. Acubens breathed a sigh of relief and carefully scooped it up again.
He took the rest of the steps the boring way. “You’re not getting away from me again, you goo-ball,” he told the frog. “Not until Kit sees you.”
It was like the grown-ups were taking turns, Acubens thought, as he dashed down a tangle of hallways. First they’d been weird about him. Father wouldn’t hug him, or even look at him, while Mother kept grabbing him and crying. She’d come up to him while he was eating breakfast and just cling to him like an octopus. What the heck?
Then, suddenly, they’d gotten better. They still acted kind of funny around him, in a way he didn’t know how to put into words, but they weren’t freaking out anymore. That was good, except now they were being super weird about Kit.
“Kit!” Acubens yelled as he ran into the room. “Kit Kit Kit Kit Kit!”
Kit slowly looked up from his book. “What is it, Acubens?”
Kit was kind of weird lately too, to be honest. Maybe it was because he was older, so the grown-ups were rubbing off on him? He looked tired all the time. Really tired. Which was funny, since it wasn’t like he was doing anything, stuck in his room like that. A lot of his things had been taken away, leaving the shelves and desk looking strangely barren. The chain around his ankle was long enough that he could walk around, but mostly he just sat and read books and stared out the window.
Well, Acubens had brought him something better to look at. “Here’s a frog!” he said, holding up his prize.
“Yes,” said Kit.
Acubens pouted. Kit didn’t sound very excited. “It’s really fat!”
“Yes,” said Kit.
Acubens scowled. “I’m going to eat it!”
That got a rise out of him at last. “Don’t eat it—” said Kit. But it was already too late. Acubens had put it in his mouth.
“Mmgrmph!” said Acubens, doubling over and spitting out the hapless frog. It fled behind the curtains. “It’s slimy! It’s gross and so slimy,” he whimpered.
“I told you,” said Kit.
Acubens’s eyes were welling up. “I can still taste it in my mouth. It’s so bad, Kit!”
Kit sighed. The chain clinked as he got up and walked to Acubens, who immediately flung himself forward, burying his face in Kit’s chest. “I’m never eating a frog again.”
“A good choice,” said Kit. His hand brushed the top of Acubens’s head, ruffling his hair, and didn’t even stop when Acubens licked the front of his shirt. It helped a lot. His tongue tasted like fuzz, now, but at least it didn’t taste like frog.
This was nice, thought Acubens muzzily. Kit always made things better. He could be grumpy sometimes, but he was always there for him, no matter what.
Acubens blinked. Kit was shaking. It was only a little, but Acubens could feel it, standing right up against him. A faint, bone-deep tremor, like the earth.
“Kit?” he asked, uncertainly.
“Shut up.” Kit’s voice was whispery, like he was about to cry. But that was silly. Kit never cried, not when Father hit him, not even when he fell out of that tree. And when he pulled away, he looked the same as always. Acubens’s great, grumpy big brother.
“You’re still wearing that?” said Acubens, noticing the strip of white cloth wound around Kit’s wrist. “I told you it looks silly.”
“I want to wear it,” said Kit.
Acubens rolled his eyes. “You’re a weirdo. Why would you? I’ve never seen anyone else wear that.”
“I want to.”
“Why? You said it means you can’t even use your hand—”
“Your frog is gone,” said Kit, looking at the window.
That stupid goo-ball had run off! And he hadn’t even noticed!
Acubens stomped his foot. “It was a stinky frog, anyway. I’ll get another one. A bigger, fatter one!”
He was about to run back to the pond when Kit said, “Sit with me. I’ll read to you.”
Acubens narrowed his eyes. “You only read boring books.”
“Sit with me,” said Kit.
Kit’s face never… did much. Acubens had seen bugs with more facial expressions. But something about the way Kit was looking at him right then made him say, “All right.”
Kit had a grown-up chair that was big enough for both of them if they squeezed. Acubens leaned against his brother, looking at the book spread across their laps. Like all of Kit’s other ones, it was big and heavy, without any pictures. The letters were tiny and the words were long, like little black caterpillars crawling across the page. Gross.
But Kit was big and warm beside him, at least. And maybe, just maybe, he looked a little less tired than before.
Acubens settled in as Kit began to read out loud. It wouldn’t be so bad.