“Yes, Uncle. Any pet will do.”
“Hmmm. Dogs aren’t ideal at a university,” he had mused. “All the barking.”
Aurelie nodded sagely. She’d expected as much. “A cat, perhaps?”
“Excellent for libraries, but I’m afraid some of the students might be allergic, and we can’t have that.”
“Oh.” She had prepared for this eventuality, as well. “A hairless cat, then.”
Uncle Leo had frowned, leaning closer to whisper, “They look a bit like demons, no?”
Later, Aurelie would not entirely disagree.
Her other proposals—lizard, snail, parrot sworn to a vow of silence—were summarily rejected, so Aurelie had taken matters into her own hands.
A normal plant, she’d known from the start, wouldn’t do. Yes, they could grow, shed, and die. But they looked so...planty. Stealing a chunk of terracotta clay from Mr. Morel’s shop, Aurelie had fashioned a pot into the shape of what was supposed to be a dog but came out rather more like a dragon.
Thanks to her parents, Aurelie’s knowledge of plants was vast. In one of her earliest memories, she had witnessed a pile of radish seeds left out in the rain develop into a slimy mess that would sprout several days later.Mucilaginouswas a disgusting and intriguing word, and she happily plastered soggy radish seeds to the sides of her pot, watering it until the true magic began.
Did Aurelie understand the risk of inventing at age seven? She couldn’t quite recall. She did know she’d never seen a demon before, and she would never have used the terminventregardingher pet-shaped planter, brilliantly named a Planter Pet. In truth, she hadn’t fully understood that she had created something entirely new until Mephisto appeared.
It happened the same way it always did: a shimmer, the smell of brimstone, and suddenly, asomethinghad appeared out of nothing. The tiny creature had stood blinking at her, seeming as confused and startled as she was, and then it scurried toward her, preparing to take a chunk out of her pinkie finger.
Without thinking, Aurelie had said “No!” in her firmest voice and bopped the demon on the nose. Just then, a cockroach scuttled past, and Mephisto wasted no time in switching its attention to another source of calories. It gobbled the cockroach down with surprising alacrity, crawled into Aurelie’s lap, and produced a miniscule seedling dropping a few minutes later. Aurelie had collected an entire jar of them, not knowing what plant they might produce and more than a little afraid to find out.
When Kiara walked in and discovered Aurelie playing with her new “pet,” she’d made her first—and only—friend. She’d never felt a need to make others. Not when Kiara was kind, funny, generous, and willing to keep all of Aurelie’s secrets without ever asking anything in return.
But even once Aurelie had companionship, it had been too late for her when it came to inventing. She knew the thrill by then, the consuming euphoria of everything falling into place to create something new. She couldn’t have stopped herself from loving it if she’d tried. And she had tried.
After dinner, Aurelie and Uncle Leo retired to the parlor, where they sat in what she supposed was meant to be companionablesilence. Aurelie would have far preferred to be in her laboratory, where her sketchbook waited for her to draw the demon she’d conjured with the Helping Hand. Aurelie kept meticulous notes on all her demons, despite the risk of discovery. One day, a thousand years from now, someone might want a taxonomy of demons, and who else would provide it but her?
Not to mention her slug elixir was likely evaporating at this very moment. The thought of it made her stomach sour with anxiety. What was the point in doing anything if it wasn’t moving toward some better end? Stagnation, Aurelie thought with a sigh, was the most wasteful state of all.
“Aurelie.”
She glanced up from the book she had half-heartedly picked up to find her uncle studying her. “Yes?”
“I received some very distressing news today regarding an old friend of mine. I’ll be leaving in two days.”
Aurelie sat up straighter, now fully alert. “Leaving?”
“I know it must seem very sudden, but he’s ill and has asked for me, and I can’t refuse his request. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but factoring in travel time, I anticipate it will be at least several weeks.”
Aurelie wasn’t sure what to say. In her eleven years with Uncle Leo, he’d never left her. “Who will be dean in your stead?” she asked, because at eighteen, she couldn’t very well sayWho will keep me out of trouble?
“Professor Booth, most likely. She has always filled in for me quite capably when I’ve been ill. I’m certain she’s up to the task.”
Aurelie nodded. “I see.” She liked Professor Booth. She taught literature, which meant Aurelie had little reason to interact withher, but they had known each other since Aurelie first arrived in Wisteria, and Professor Booth had always been kind to her.
The corners of Uncle Leo’s eyes wrinkled when he smiled. “Are you worried about me?”
Aurelie huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Not worried, per se. I suppose I’ve taken your presence for granted. I like knowing you’re nearby.”
His smile widened. “I must admit, I’m relieved to hear you say that. You’ve been distant lately. I know that you’re getting older and need your independence. But I miss tucking little Aurelie in at night.”
She flushed at the memory. When she’d first come to the university, she’d cried every night for months. Afraid of the dark, afraid of forgetting her parents, afraid of everything. Before her parents died, Aurelie hadn’t even known she had an uncle. Her mother had mentioned a brother in passing once or twice, but not in a way that suggested he was a part of her life. So in addition to the devastating news that her parents were dead, Aurelie had been stunned to discover she would be living with a man she’d never met.
But Uncle Leo had been unwavering in his patience. He read to her every night, fairy tales that were hundreds of years old, that hinted at a world different from the one she knew. It saddened her to think that by the time her great-grandchildren read the books of her youth, nothing would have changed. Was a fairy tale even a fairy tale if it didn’t reveal the mysteries of some bygone era, if it didn’t give society a glimpse into its own past?