Michael has no concept of how one learns that kind of thing, or what the rules are—what tools would be considered appropriate, what the average magician’s learning age is, what the proper protocols are for ‘acting mature’ when you’ve had a hole punched in your memory and were missing a huge part of yourself for half your life. Maybe it’s some kind of big deal that Wolfgang’s not using more serious-looking wizardy stuff to cast spells, and that’s why they feel so bad about it. Some kind of professional shame.
But they’re not only using them for magic, are they? Not really. The way they hold the small doll—with familiarity and care—says it’s more than a means to an end. They like these toys for what they are, and adults aren’t supposed to like toys. Not that much. Not where anyone can see.
Michael forgets these things sometimes because all the thousands of supposed-tos turn into garbled static in the background of his brain, a signal that won’t tune no matter how hard he tries.
“Did you have a lot of toys when you were a kid?” he asks.