“Magic isn’t whispering to me, is it?”
“A type of magic is, yeah.” I didn’t touch her to comfort her, as I usually would have, not when I worried a wrong move would lengthen the distance between us. “The grimoire is giving you ideas. Some are good ideas. They’re not bad or wrong.” I debated how to handle the next bit. “The problem is, when a book like that wants to use you, it has to be smart about it. It can’t tell you to, say, stab someone with your sword. You know right from wrong, and you would tell it no. But, if you were playing with Clay, for example, the book could tell you it was okay to stab him. That it would be fine, because Clay is hard to hurt and pretty much impossible to kill.”
“He’s my friend.” She worried her hands. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”
“You say that now, but the book might convince you.” I couldn’t resist the impulse to rub her fuzzy cheek. “And once you did it to Clay, the book might give you another idea. It might say, ‘See? Your friend is fine. I bet you could stab so-and-so with your sword, and they would be fine too. Do you want to try?’ And if you listened to the book for long enough, you might not think it was a bad idea anymore. You might do it, and you might hurt someone for real. Or kill them.” I took a moment to remind her, “Swords are not toys. Even toy swords are not toys.”
“I don’t want that.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear the voice anymore.”
“Don’t worry. We’re going to figure it out. You and me.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t check on you.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
A bit of her usual sass returned. “Moths don’t sweat.”
“Smarty fuzz butt.”
“Can I stay in here with you?” Her antennae perked. “You can read. I won’t look.”
Steamy romance was not appropriate for ten-year-old moths, but I suspected she peeked when I was too engrossed in the story to notice.
“How about we pull up your Twitch channel and watch your latest kills instead?”
“Really?” She flitted onto my head. “I’ve got a lot more than the last time we watched, thanks to Clay.”
With Colby leaning over my forehead, her legs propped on my eyebrows, we settled in to watch orcs die horribly so that their gold, pets, and potions could be looted off their corpses. I didn’t get the same thrill from virtual violence as Colby, I had seen too much of the real thing for that, but I was happy she had made such good friends. I loved listening to them chatter, how they synced dinner like they were eating together, and how every holiday her crew exchanged gifts.
It gave me hope I was doing right by her, as much as I could, given the circumstances.
This life would be enough for her, I reassured myself.
It had to be.