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  SAM

  “Switch says the piano is a great idea!” Cora celebrated.

  I’d just finished writing the chapter of Time Sleuths where we were in Red Rocks, Colorado for her concert, so perfect timing tor news on the piano.

  We were in Chopping Block cafe working. Well, I was writing. Cora found it difficult to work for long blocks of time the way I did, so she often left to visit shops for some fresh air.

  It worked for her. She’d made fantastic progress on Moons Dancing, even going so far as to do all the things I’d never had time for.

  Like monetizing it.

  That’s right, my girlfriend now had an income from our web serial and had a second book planned. I was so proud of her. The piano was something we both wanted, and she’d found a used digital upright that she really wanted to buy. It sounded like we’d be able to put it in the living room of our rental cottage, so that was amazing!

  “Perfect, Cora!”

  “I know, Sam! You really ready for it? Even though we don’t know what we’re doing long term?” she asked for the zillionth time.

  We both loved the cottage, and neither of us wanted to look for a different place. Switch and Priyaa agreed to let us rent it month to month until we figured out our long-term plan, which was fine by me.

  “Let’s do it, Cor,” I nodded.

  “Okay, okay, I’m gonna reply back saying I’ll take the piano.”

  I packed up my bag, chugging the last dregs of ice berry ade and shooting a glance towards the take-out displays. We needed to pick out a side dish for tonight.

  “Yeee!” Cora cheered at her messages. “They’re gonna deliver tomorrow! Okay, babe?”

  “Perfect! What should we take to the party tonight?” I asked her.

  “Definitely a fruit salad, but get a side of the chunky red peppers. They’re Georgia’s favorite.”

  We picked out our to-go items and headed for Rhoda’s townhouse, goodies in tow.

  “She’s so soft,” I told Bloom, HC’s grandchild, petting the sweet rabbit they held.

  Bloom was . . . different.

  “What’s her name?” I asked gently.

  “Brindle called. Bunny mine,” they answered proudly.

  At nine years old, Bloom spoke in broken phrases. The first week they were here on Uno, a wild hare hopped out of the ice berry shrubs in the evening. Unaware that wild rabbits were usually terrified of people, Bloom picked her up, delighted to find a new friend.

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  Bloom was a seelie like Filly.

  “Do you mind if I record us talking about her?” I asked, flicking on my voice recorder.

  I hadn’t yet complicated our communication with the new enby code I’d learned from Jax. We could tackle that another day. Right now I wanted to explore a hunch.

  Bloom’s speech patterns seemed predictable to me, and I had a hankering something more was going on with them than an impediment.

  They shrugged their shoulders, so I went on.

  “We had snowshoe hares in Wyoming where I lived on Earth, and in winter, their fur would turn white as snow. Think Brindle’s will?” I asked Bloom.

  Their eyes bugged, “Snow!” Bloom patted my arm eagerly. “Fur! Snow Brindle said.”

  Bloom pointed to their head, and I got it.

  “Does Brindle show you pictures in your mind?” I asked.

  “Shows. Brindle. Fur. Snow,” they said, pointing to their temple again.

  Then Bloom surprised me, closing their eyes and putting a hand on my arm. I closed my eyes too, trying to relax my mind, and a gentle whisper of white fur crossed my thoughts.

  “I saw it! Bloom! I saw the white fur!” I told them.

  They grinned at me.

  “Was it you? Or was it Brindle? Who showed me?” I asked, genuinely confused.

  Bloom cackled, picked up Brindle, and ran off to join Georgia and Filly. He was the birthday boy and the reason for the party, but all he seemed interested in was feeding his mirka peppers.

  I noticed Tyne sitting on the blanket next to Rhoda and Filly. Heart-warming picture.

  I had another quarry, not my best friend who seemed to be successfully flirting with Pitch’s handsome cousin.

  Settling on a lounge chair, I tapped open my messages.

  Sam: Does this conversation sound like my language or a variant of one you speak? Attachment: voice recording.

  Pitch: I know who that is. In Trauwin, it’ll translate back into English the way you’d expect. To say it plainly: that child is speaking English, but putting words together in the order of Trauwin. Does that help?

  Sam: ?? Thx. You’re a life saver!

  Pitch: Glad to help. Have a song. Link to “Sound Of Love”

  I grinned at my pad and traipsed over to HC and Cora. Paddy was chatting to them about the delicious Taste of the Sea Pie Rhoda and Tyne made for dinner, so I barged in.

  “All of you need to read this!” I shoved my pad into HC’s hands and watched his eyes flick across the screen.

  His face went wide, and Paddy grabbed his arm.

  “Does this—is that? Can it really be?” HC was dumbstruck.

  “I think we need to learn Trauwin, Wimpy,” his wife said, smiling broadly. “With Bloom. Maybe that’s a language that suits them better than English or Universal?”

  “Ho-oly crap,” HC whispered in awe. “Karsh always said to not make a big deal of it—that Bloom would figure it out.” HC looked over at his grandchild in admiration.

  “Do you think, Paddy? All this time, was Bloom speaking an English variation of a language from Andromeda?” my friend wondered.

  I nodded, “I think so, HC. There was an order to it. Bloom’s language isn’t random. It’s different, but it’s patterned. Aaand, I think you should add ‘telepathy lessons’ to Bloom’s to-do list.”

  I looked meaningfully at the dark-skinned man sitting next to Rhoda. The whole damn Joon family was supposed to be telepathic, so maybe Tyne could help Bloom? Tyne was a seelie too, so perhaps . . .

  HC chuckled, eyes glimmering. “Paddy, dear, shouldn’t we have a playdate with Bloom and Filly tomorrow? And have Tyne join us for seelie lessons with a side of telepathy and Trauwin tutoring?”

  “Consider it done, Wimpy.” Paddy patted HC’s arm lightly before making a beeline for Rhoda and Tyne.

  And just like that, several birds went down with one stone—or one voice chat.

  Nanna came over, grinning. “That's nice to see,” she motioned to Rhoda and Tyne with her chin.

  I gave her my happiest smile not needing to say anything else.

  “How far did you get in Unknown Cosmos?” my grandmother wondered.

  “Oh, we’ve been saving it, Marjorie,” Cora told her.

  I nodded, “I’ve been focused on writing Time Sleuths, so if you want to read it together again tonight, we’re game.”

  Nanna’s face lit up. “Excellent! I’ll see you once all the birthday guests are gone.”

  A few yard games followed, then the guests headed home. Cora and I helped Rhoda clean up—after she’d gotten a good-bye hug from Tyne. Once the dishes were washed and the kitchen tidied, Cora and I settled into Nanna’s living room with mugs of hot tea and Pitch’s Unknown Cosmos manuscript.

  I gestured to a spiral notebook I’d never seen before. “Are you writing Nanna?”

  “It’s never too late to learn something new, and since I’m surrounded by Talented, I figured I’d put Sorchen’s theory to the test. Ryst taught Peydran and Ren to be belly-button telepathic through her book. So maybe I can gain something too.”

  She winced, “My dreams so far are ridiculous drivel! Like, I’m in school with a math equation on the board that’s unsolvable. Or trying to figure out what classes I should be taking in college.”

  “Hah!” Cora laughed. “Poetic dreams for a retired teacher!”

  “Totally,” I giggled, picking up the book. “Want me to start reading the next chapter?”

  “Can’t wait!” Nanna said.

  I flipped open the pages of Unknown Cosmos and finally got to see how Pitch Joon was writing his stories.