I whirled back around and found Scion leaning against the garden wall outside the orphanage. I was 100% certain he hadn’t been standing there a second before.
“Not you too,” I hissed.
He looked unabashed. “Children learn by example.”
“So you’re just shadow walking all over the city, and what…?” I raised an incredulous eyebrow. “…making him chase you?”
“Yes!” His eyes gleamed with pride. “He’s doing well, don’t you think?”
I furrowed my brow. “How well he’s doing is irrelevant. He’s only five!”
Scion was undeterred. “That’s a good thing, rebel. That means his power will be unusually strong.”
I frowned, staring out onto the street where Peregrine was now fading in and out of sight as he bent to pet a scruffy-looking straycat. The cat obviously had no idea what to make of it, and was watching the occasionally invisible child with extreme wariness.
“I just thought there would be more time,” I explained. “How are we going to keep him from wandering off the continent every time we have to scold him?”
Scion kissed me on the top of the head. “It will be fine, rebel. He has four parents to go search for him, not to mention a large collection of aunts and uncles.”
I supposed that was true, though I still found myself worrying as we watched Peregrine pick up the enormous gray cat, which was nearly as large as he was, and disappear with it.
“Wait!” I whirled on Scion. “Where’s Rose?”
“Aine is watching her,” he said, as if this were no cause for concern. “I let them go back to Cross’s.”
“Oh, lovely,” I said sarcastically. “So I leave for an hour and come home to one child I can’t see, and another one who will want to be an assassin when she grows up.”
Scion looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but then changed his mind. He grimaced. "You're right," he finally said, reluctantly. "We should probably go check on them."
“Good. I have to go by the den anyway to speak to Cross.”
Scion looked sideways at me. “Anything I should know about?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. We can ask him together.”
We arrived at the thieves'den just in time to see Aine flying backwards across the room.
There was never a dull moment.
Aine somersaulted in the air and managed to land on her feet in a crouch just outside the training ring. Then she jumped, like a spitting cat, and rounded on her opponent.
I turned, watching with benign interest. Then, my eyes went wide again as a whiling streak of curly red hair shot past me.
“Rose!” I yelled, “Stop that.”
I shouldn’t have been at all surprised when my daughter didn’t stop. She barreled toward her aunt, a tiny whirling ball of rage.
Where Peregrine looked like Scion in miniature, except for the single white streak that always peeked through his jet black hair, Rose was the complete opposite. Her long mane of red hair was always a mess, and if I made her sit too long while I attempted to tame it she would growl and flash her cat-like yellow eyes at me.
Now, Scion stepped forward and casually plucked Rose off the ground mid-stride. For a moment, her little legs kept moving, and then she stopped, glaring at Scion.
“What?” Rose said defensively, her angelic face and tiny sweet voice at complete odds with the clear threat of violence in her cat-like yellow eyes.
“You know what,” Scion told her patiently. “It’s unwise to challenge your aunt…at least, not where your mother can see you.”
Rose grinned widely. “Can we fight later?”
Scion’s eye twitched. He seemed to be struggling with himself, clearly torn between encouraging this behavior in our daughter, and a desire to see what she might be capable of.