"Aren't they from alternate universe eleventh-century Norway?"

"There'll be an adjustment period but - the alternatives are fairyland or here."

"Or somewhere slightly less boring than Kansas? Colorado Springs, maybe? It has mountains. There's an air force base nearby where we can claim the mysteriously absent fathers of these large gaggle of kids work."

"Oh, I was hoping we could tell evil me that his cover story is that he's her husband, and works on a ranch, or something. I think maybe it'd be good for her to have everyone else see it as something else."

"Maybe."

"I think you're breaking something that was previously working fine because you don't like its name. But we can't very well take three more humans this night, so I don't know what you ought to do instead."

"It's not just the name. It bothers me that the slot he has for - for expecting loyalty, for being able to invest himself - is shaped the way it is in your world."

"So, yes to Kansas? Or Colorado Springs, whatever?"

"Sure. He can work on a ranch and you can - be his brother, I guess, there's not much hiding the resemblance - and Cassie can have an imaginary air force husband and we can get them a place."

"A nice place."

"An unfortunately colored duplex which is shabby but not actually in need of any maintenance with a yard that's full of weeds but not any that are harmful to babies and a landlord who smells funny but does repairs promptly and stops by on Sundays to take them to church."

"That does not sound like a nice place."

"Humans are kind of weird. - do you think that'll work for Cecelia, too?"

"I have barely met her but I think it working for Cassie actually does a lot of work all by itself."

Nod.

"Bar, can we have a lot of food to give to our fairy friends to even up all our accounts with them before they go?"

Of course.

There appear buckets of popcorn, some in peculiar colors; and cotton candy; and malt balls and sponge candy; and little glass jars full of colorful salads; and meringues, dotted with candy cane fragments or sprinkled with cocoa or colored blue; and tiny covered dishes of caviar; and bentos full of sushi; and assorted pickles.

"That's what fairies eat?"

"No questions after we've evened up," he says, taking everything.

"I'm pretty sure he's never seen any of that in his life before. Hopefully they'll enjoy it, though."

"You should mix it all up and eat it all together. It'd be a really fascinating combination of flavors."

"I don't even have any slaves and must conclude I earned your animosity off my species alone, which isn't very fair of you."

"You have a dumb species."

He walks towards the door along a route that happens to take him past Cassie and Faith just as he responds "our version of our family hasn't committed any mass murders at all."

Then he leaves.

Sigh.

She pets Wishbone, who has fallen asleep.