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Camila sighed as she dug out the winter clothes from the storage containers she had them in for the winter. “Why, exactly, do you need your long underwear and parka?”
Luz fidgeted in place. “Eda just said I’d need warm clothes for Magic Boot Camp. Also, are you sure you’ll be okay babysitting King?”
“It’ll be fine,” Camila chuckled. She pulled out a vacuum-sealed bag. “Here. I’ll be at the Owl House in five minutes, just let me grab my needles.” Luz gave her a strange look, and Camila sighed. “The knitting needles.”
“Oh! Oh, okay, that makes so much more sense.” Luz fiddled with the bag. “Also, it’s Hooty’s birthday, he might bug you about it.”
Camila pursed her lips as she put away the storage container. She wanted to stay on the bird tube’s good side, but she had no idea what he liked. “Is that so?” she asked as she got to her feet, knees aching in protest after having kneeled for so long.
Luz nodded. “He was kind of upset that no one cared this morning, so I figured I’d give him that old painting I made of the skull butterfly.”
“He might eat it,” Camila warned.
“Well, it’s his to do with what he wants.” Luz clambered upstairs, and Camila rolled her eyes affectionately. Her daughter had a big heart, even if she was too impulsive for her own good. As for her gift to Hooty, while Luz searched through her room for the old painting, she sorted through her old jewelry until she found a never-worn seaglass necklace, bought once at the beach as a fun little trinket. It was large enough to fit around Hooty’s neck, so he might like it.
“Ready to go?” Luz asked, eyes bright.
“Almost.” Camila grabbed her needles and yarn, along with a few snacks and a bottle of water, and shoved them into her purse. “Alright, I’m ready.”
Together, the two made their way to the shack. Camila sighed. “This place must have been so lovely once upon a time. It’s a shame how dilapidated it’s become.”
Luz elbowed her gently. “Well, it could be a nice fixer-upper project. Plant some flowers, replace some of the rotting wood.”
“We’ll see. But we’ll need to find out if anyone else owns it- we can’t alter someone else’s property.”
Luz groaned. “Don’t ruin my fantasy with the cold cruel reality of capitalism.”
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” Camila laughed as they stepped into the Boiling Isles. Eda sat on the couch with a whining King next to her, and Camila smiled as she pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek. “Hello, beautiful.”
Eda nuzzled into her touch. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she replied, even as she let Camila run gentle fingers through her hair. “You gonna be alright with this little furball?”
“I am not a furball!” King insisted, stamping his feet. “And I can totally run a bootcamp! Just wait and see! By the time you get back, I’ll have recruits for days!”
“Sure you will,” Eda chuckled. “Luz, go get dressed! We’re leaving in five minutes!”
“On it!” Luz disappeared upstairs, clothes and painting in hand.
Camila settled in beside Eda on the couch, leaning into her shoulder. “So, where exactly are you taking her?”
“It’s the Knee of the Titan. The very first witches learned how to harness magic there, and if Luz is going to learn a second spell anywhere, it’ll be there.” Eda pulled a pamphlet from her mass of hair, and Camila idly wondered how she’d missed that when she was running her fingers through it. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been sort of slacking on teaching Luz magic. To be fair, she’s discovered most of it without me, but I still should be teaching more. That’s what this field trip is about. Well, that and I refuse to let my apprentice be put in the baby classes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with remedial classes,” Camila pointed out. “It’s better that Luz gets into a class that teaches her what she needs to know.”
“Yeah, but the baby classes won’t teach her anything. It’s mostly about helping kids get a handle on the magic they already have, and… ooh, right there.” Eda purred and leaned into the touch of the comb Camila across her scalp, gently undoing knots and removing debris. Camila couldn’t help the small smile at the sight of the fearsome witch relaxing under a gentle touch.
King grumbled as he clambered over Eda’s lap and into Camila’s. “I could teach her, but someone is being a real witch today.” It was obvious what he meant, but he kept his mouth at least a little clean in front of the two of them.
Luz clambered down the stairs, clad in her winter gear. “I’m ready! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”
Eda sighed and got up, her joints creaking. “Yep.” She grabbed a thick winter coat off the table and slid it on. “We’ll be off, then.”
“Take care!” Camila smiled as Luz followed Eda like a little duckling, babbling excitedly about wanting to learn everything she could. As soon as the door closed she turned her attention to King, scratching behind his horns. “How has your day been so far?”
King grumbled, even as his tail twitched. “Eda says I can’t come with her on the training exercise because I’ll ‘distract Luz’. And she said I was cute! Cute! A demon king is not cute, he is vicious and deadly and inspires nothing but fear!”
“Says who?” Camila asked.
“Says me!” King told her, with all the puffed-up importance only eight-year-olds and trust fund babies had.
“Well,” Camila told him, worrying a small knot out of his fur, “I’m not scared of you. I think you’re rather likeable and full of joy.”
King harumphed. “That’s because you haven’t seen me at my full power yet.”
Camila smiled warmly, running her fingers down his spine until his hackles went down. “I think,” she mused, “that someone who has true respect from their subjects shouldn’t have to worry about potentially being vulnerable. If they respect you, then something small like being cute won’t deter them in the slightest.”
King arched his back into Camila’s hand, grunting as he stretched against her palm. He rolled onto his back, letting Camila rub gently at his belly. It was a minute or two before he spoke again. “I like you, Camila. You make Eda happy.”
“I should hope so,” Camila said. “The last thing I want in this relationship is to make my girlfriend miserable.” And, despite the many minor setbacks, Camila could easily say she was happy too. Eda made her laugh, made her smile, gave her someone to care about that wasn’t just her daughter. That was worth any amount of shenanigans.
Hooty came snaking down the stairs, his beak stained white. “Hoot! Guess what I did!”
Camila laughed softly. “You ate the skull painting?”
He nodded. “Yep! It tasted like paint!” He shoved his face in Camila’s, eyes boring into hers expectantly. “Presents for Hooty?”
Camila chuckled, gently shoving Hooty’s head away. “If I’d known about it sooner I would have gone shopping, but I hope you like it.” She took out the necklace and laid it over his neck, adjusting it until the central sea glass pendant hung directly below his beak. “There. Don’t you look dashing.”
Hooty wriggled bashfully. “Two whole presents! Today is my lucky day!” He clicked his beak happily, then paused, tilting his head. “Hoot hoot! There are coven scouts on the way!”
Camila made to get up, but King yawned. “Go easy on them this time,” he told Hooty. “We don’t need more traumatized scouts crying at the market every time they see us.”
Hooty grinned. “No promises!” He wriggled outside, leaving Camila and King alone in the living room.
Camila frowned, but resumed petting down King’s spine as he arched into her hand. “Is this really such a common occurrence?”
King shrugged. “I wouldn’t say ‘common’, it only happens every few weeks or so. If I had to guess I’d say Lilith probably isn’t in this one. Emperor Belos only sends her out when Eda’s going to be in the fight.” He paused, thinking quietly. “Emperor Bleck-os. Emperor Bad-os.”
Camila grinned. “Emperor Bore-os.”
“Emperor Bland-os.”
“Emperor Burros.” King cocked his head in confusion, and Camila cleared her throat. “It’s Spanish. A burro is a donkey. Hard-working animals, but calling someone that is saying they’re stubborn and stupid.”
King cackled, rolling around off her lap and onto the couch. “Hah! I like you, Camila.”
She smiled, pulling out her knitting needles and the ball of pale brown woolen yarn. “Well, you’ll like me even more once I’m done with this.”
King watched as she began to cast on, her fingers working along with the needles to turn the yarn into a piece of fabric. “How are you doing that?” he demanded, eyes transfixed on the moving needles.
“Patience, practice, and a lot of mishaps.” She remembered her father’s stumbling steps in dealing with her attention issues. She could still recall when he sat her down on the porch swing one day, a pair of needles in his hands and a ball of yarn by his side, teaching her how to cast on, how to knit and when to purl, how to close her work. He was a quiet, taciturn man, but he was kind as well as loving, a steady shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear whenever her heart was broken. Even two decades after his death, she still found herself missing him with a sort of fond wistfulness every now and then.
Shaking her head slightly to dislodge the sad memories, she held up the few rows she already had. “What do you think? Do you want a hat, a scarf, or a pair of mittens?”
King got a strange gleam in his eyes. “Can you make me a crown?”
“Sure!” Camila waved her hands, then booped him on the nose. “Poof! You’re a crown!”
King growled and nipped at her, but his teeth missed her skin by a lot. “Weh! Stop mocking me!”
Camila rolled her eyes affectionately. “Hush now. If you can’t handle a bit of mockery, how do you expect to be the King of Demons?” She shrugged her shoulders back, wincing at the creak. “Also, I can’t knit a crown. Hat, scarf, or mittens. Take your pick.”
King grumbled softly, but curled up in a ball next to her. “Scarf, please.”
Camila nodded. A scarf was easy, if a bit tedious. She undid the rows quickly, then redid them wider and tighter than before. If she was doing this as an actual project instead of a time-filler, she’d probably have grabbed a few more colors, but as it was this was a good color and consistency, and would make a good enough end product.
The time passed peacefully, King dozing beside her as she worked her way through a familiar pattern. She hadn’t picked up her needles in months, what with the warmer weather making sweaters and the like unnecessary, but it was soothing to let her hands fall into old habits. Occasionally she would hold the half-finished product up, see where she was at and how much further she needed to go, but for the most part it was simple, repetitive work that let her mind wander.
Eventually Hooty wandered back in, his beak stained with mud and a bit of blood. “Hoo-“
Camila shushed him softly. “King is sleeping. Inside voices.”
Hooty nodded, curling up against her on the couch. “Right, right,” he continued, his voice much softer than before. His mucus seeped through her clothes, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t handled before in the emergency room. “I took care of them! We had such a fun tea party, and only two of them cried.” He wiggled a little for emphasis.
“I’m glad you had fun,” Camila told him, patting him gently. “What type of tea did you serve?”
“Earl Grey. I’m a classy lady, Hoot.”
Camila chuckled, gently tapping the seaglass necklace. “That you are.” She hummed, then decided that the scarf was long enough to take a break. Setting aside her needles, she leaned back on the couch with a sigh. “I think I’m going to take a nap,” she announced to Hooty and a dozing King.
Hooty sighed, but wiggled off of her anyway. “Fine. I’ll be doing Hooty Things while you sleep and leave me all alone, without a friend in the world.”
“I’ll wake up soon enough,” Camila promised through a yawn. “And I’m sure you don’t need me to keep entertained.”
Hooty whined melodramatically. “Camila!!!”
“You can nap with me if you’d like, but I’m tired and want to sleep.” She opened her arms, and with a muted grumble Hooty snuggled up against her, deliberately keeping the slimiest parts away from her skin. It was awkward, but there were very few things in her life at this point that weren’t on some level awkward, so she could live with it. Bathed in the filtered midday sunlight, curled up with the house demon in her arms and a baby demon at her side, Camila found that she couldn’t really bring herself to worry. She was safe, and warm, and surrounded by two people who, despite everything, had become family. This was right. This was home.