by Lisa Ladew
They gathered themselves with much smiling and laughing and much repeating of “I-can’t-believe-it-is-so,” and set off down the path again. The time was mid-afternoon, the sun past the midpoint of its own path. The two of them did not know where they were going, but somehow, they would find it anyway. That was how it worked. You got called, you wandered in the forest until you got close enough to the cosh for your magic to start strengthening, and then you had to pass tests to get in. None knew what the tests were, but if they involved magic, Anna was sure to pass. She was strong in magic, pure, undiluted magic like toppling a barrel or braiding someone’s hair without using your hands, stronger than any other switch in Five Hills, something proven by yearly contests in the town at the Solstice Festival.
Theresa was smarter than she was magical, an intellectual Bond switch, so if the tests involved thinking around corners and finding ways to do the impossible, she would have the advantage.
They trod the same path all day. The sun set and still they walked. Stars rose in the sky, a slither of moon, too. Owls hooted and wild animals moved in the forest. Anna had no reason to be scared of them. She and Theresa could speak to them, bond with them, even ask them to do things.
Theresa spoke. “I need a rest. A short one. I have the strongest feeling around my middle that we are getting close. We will need our wits and our magic at full strength.” She swirled her hands, as if imagining the magicks there. There were none, Theresa could only conjure actual swirls of energy that were colored Bond orange when she was working a spell. Which was not easy on her.
Anna swirled her hands. Seeing her sister do it had made her realize that she wanted to also, that her hands were itching to do magic. “You speak true,” she said, moving deeper into the forest, looking for the perfect tree, needing a rest, also. She found a good tree, swinging herself up onto a low branch, then a higher one, and only when she was perched above the path did she give in to the compulsion she felt to call forth her magicks.
She moved her fingers fluidly, swirling them as Theresa had done, feeling the magicks build, but unlike her sister, she had hazy orange swirls in her palms. Spinning spells and spilling magicks was easier for Anna than Theresa, but still normally took much more concentration than this.
Anna held her hands up toward her sister. “Theresa, look, we are close. I grow stronger already.”
Theresa nodded. “Do something.”
“What?”
“Anything.” Theresa smiled at her. “I love you,” she said. “You’re sweet and you always share and you’re good at magic.”
The magic grew inside Anna, as the magicks glowed brighter, more like fire in her palms. Her sister was feeding her Bond energy, and it helped. She looked around. Still, she would only do something small.
A squirrel climbed up a tree to their right, an acorn in its mouth, all the way to a cozy hole set in the crook of one branch. Anna whispered into her hands, then, with a flick of her palm, sent her energy out, down the tree, the ball of magicks floating through the sky independent of wind or form, following the path of descent Anna had set it on.
Down the tree it went, slowly, to the roots, where it sank under the leaves, then reappeared with an acorn at the very center of it. Theresa laughed and clapped her hands. They both glued their eyes to the magicks. It brought the acorn to the hole and placed it on the tree branch in front. The squirrel appeared, chattering, then darted through the magicks, spreading them gathered up the acorn, and popped back into his hole.
Anna smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was the easiest magic she’d ever done. She was going to like being a cosh-switch.
***
They rested until an hour before dawn, then pushed themselves to the path to continue on. Their feet were tired and their backs sore, and still they walked, talking idly about what their lives would now be like, sharing rumors about Antimony, the only switch either of them knew by name. She was the leader of the switches, the oldest switch, and the most powerful. And the scariest. Not a Bond switch, no, Antimony was a Blood switch.
By noontime, the feeling that they were close had intensified to the point where Anna felt compelled to take action, any action, but the one that felt most right was... gathering information. Anna attempted a bird whistle, but her sister was already in contact with a red wolf. It came straight to the path boldly, nosing at Theresa’s hand. She petted it absently. “We’re being watched,” she whispered, her eyes on the forest.
Anna nodded and looked around. It only made sense that they would be. There would be sentries, and traps, and magic, all set on keeping those that didn’t belong from seeing or sensing the cosh.
Anna stooped, scooping up some dirt, hiding it in a skirt pocket then stepped off the path, pulling herself to the top of a tree, knowing her sister would follow. She did. They stopped climbing when the trunk thinned more than they liked. Anna braced herself on a branch. “Tears,” she told her sister.
Theresa nodded, crying easily, not even having to screw up her face. It was something Bond switches learned young, to cry on command. Tears lent strength to Bond magic, and also provided a delivery and bonding system. They were strongest when they came from someone the switch loved.
Anna swiped the single tear from her sister’s face, then pulled a bit of dirt out of her pocket. She mixed the two, adding her orange magicks to it. Theresa stripped a bit of bark from the tree and added it to what was taking shape in Anna’s hands.
Anna worked the ball of magic, the bond of magic, as she liked to think of it. She spoke to her sister, trying to imagine what cosh life would be like, what it would lend to her and her sister, and what they could lend to it. “I bet we’ll love it there,” she said. “I bet all the sisters are sweet and kind and they like to climb trees and tell stories and on Friday nights we will dance.”
Theresa nodded, picked up the thread, whipping it around for more magic. “The shifters, too. It will be like one big family.”
The magic welled up stronger inside Anna, and she funneled it into her hands. She cupped them and brought the ball of magic and magicks close to her mouth. “Show me what I want to see,” she whispered, then held fast to the branch above her with one hand while she whipped the magic away with the other. It flew high above them, separating into glowing orange particles on the way up, which flew in all directions.
As the particles fell, the forest around the two females was changed by their passage.
A whole new forest was revealed, the colors brighter, the birds louder, and in front of them, still a mile away, a meadow opened up and the cosh appeared. Anna couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She’d just performed the best magic of her life, and it had worked exactly as she’d planned.
Theresa was grinning, too, eyes on the cosh, taking it all in. “That was amazing magic.”
But Anna’s eyes were already drawn away from the cosh, because her magic was also pointing out to her the shifters hidden in the trees. Everywhere she looked, branches were pulled aside by her magic, and males with hard stares were revealed.
At least twenty shifters had been pacing the two of them, and they dotted the branches around them, with only a few left on the ground, looking up.
Anna nudged Theresa, pointed a few out. “Oh,” Theresa said. She gave Anna a look. “Time to go,” she whispered.
They dropped to the ground and went on, trying not to notice the males who moved with them, flanking them, protecting them, herding them, funneling them toward their future.
4 – The Tests Begin
Growler’s bear ran past the same stump for the fifth time in an hour, growling in anger, flashing his teeth into the night, daring his tormenters to come close. He had run for hours, and now was being led around in a circle, somehow. It was the first test, he knew, but it shouldn’t be possible. No one should be able to mess with the compass in his mind. Bears weren’t trackers, but Growler was. Had been since he could remember, was the best in the forest.
Magic.
/> So it was magic. It mattered not. He still had to figure his way around it, or through it, or over it. When nothing came after his sixth circle, he decided to sleep on it. The night was warm, and he could do so as a man, curled on himself at the base of a tree, his bear set to watch, letting his man’s mind work on the problem in his sleep.
As the sun rose, so did Growler, and as he knew it would be, the answer was in his mind.
He did not need to find the cosh, in fact, he most likely could not. But that did not matter. Growler knew that the cosh was a magical place, a home built by shifters, lived in by females who leaked magic from their fingertips. The cosh was alive, a thinking place that colluded with Fate, and responded to the wishes of its inhabitants.
As such, he didn’t need to find it, he only needed to be invited within its magical influence, and he knew just how to ensure it was so. He would pay for it, but that was his way. He paid for everything.
He stood, shook the sleep from his body, made his way to the path, then shifted into his bear. He raised his head to the forest and growled, then roar-snarled, shaking the saplings around him and the leaves above them. Birds flew and the forest fell silent.
It was a challenge to an alpha, any alpha. There were five at the cosh, and any one of them would have the authority to invite him in, in fact they would be unable to resist inviting him in if they accepted his challenge.
He was a big bear, big enough that his family, unlike him, had always thought he might be destined to be called by Fate to the Cause, and once he was accepted into the cosh, he would grow bigger still, the better to protect the magical, strong, and powerful, but still soft-bellied switches.
And so he challenged. He growled again, earning his name, Growler of the Forest. Afraid? Are all the alphas of this cosh old and simpering? Will none accept my challenge?
The forest shimmered around him, and the colors fell in brighter, all at once, making Growler realize that they had been muted before. The sounds changed, rushing water re-orienting itself toward the setting sun, the ground seeming to shift under his feet, as the magic that had obscured the way the forest had looked and sounded, fell away.
An answering growl, and a snarl. Not a bear. He was going to win this. Or so he thought, until he heard another snarl, and another. Three against one. Two wolves and a big cat. If that was what it took to take him down, so it would be.
But they approached him one at a time. The biggest wolf came first from his left, lean and rangy, but huge, at least three hundred pounds, grey and loping, coming in fast, leaping over him, tearing Growler’s right ear half-off.
Growler shook his head and growled, turning to follow the wolf through the air, but it was already landed and doubling back at him, twisting under Growler’s neck, teeth sinking into flesh, shredding fur and skin and muscle. Growler grabbed at him, but couldn’t get purchase, as the wolf twisted under him more. Growler swiped at him, big claws tearing into the wolf’s hindquarters, but the wolf was clever, and knew the way of fighting bears. He bit and gouged his way down Growler’s side, using his speed to disappear from the spot Growler swatted at. The alpha twisted under Growler’s belly and Growler dropped to the ground, trying to smash him flat, still growling into the air, swiping with great claws, but rarely hitting his target. The alpha wolf took a large bite of Growler’s belly, then dug into the bite with his front claws, separating it, twisting and reaching as Growler tried desperately to gain his feet, to protect his belly, to dislodge the wolf, to save himself-
The alpha wolf stayed the killing blow, snarled once, and leapt away from Growler. Growler stood. Panted. Growled. Not a challenging one. Acceptance of his defeat. He shifted quickly into a man, then shifted back, a whole bear once more.
One defeat down, two to go.
He did not hang his head, having learned his lesson already, but still not regretting his decision.
5 – The Cosh Switch
The growl of a massive animal split the forest well behind Anna and Theresa, making Anna shiver. Theresa grabbed for her hand. They approached the cosh that way, two tall females, pressed close to each other, not in weakness, but in strength. Bond’s strength was in numbers, in family, and the cosh should be the same, Anna thought. The shifters and switches all gathered together, stronger that way, living together, training together, Hunting together, Prowling together.
They had no idea what to expect. Only that the cosh itself would be both a building, and an idea, a concept of a home that encompassed all switches and shifters who were called to the very forward battle lines of The Cause of the Forest, the battle between vampires and all else.
From the top of the tree, she’d gotten an impression of a long house, not unlike the farmhouse she and Theresa had lived in as working boarders, but three times as big, the walls lashed together from the trees of the forest, the roof thatched straw, windows with shutters dotting the place. The house was in the middle of a meadow that did not belong in the forest. She’d seen children, but no adults.
So now, taking that first step into the meadow, Anna held her breath, unease spreading through her. She didn’t know why.
Under their softly-booted feet, the meadow was soft, wildflowers whispering past their full skirts. The forest was still quiet behind them, recovering from the growl of the animal slowly, a bird chirping here, a squirrel scolding there. But then the growl came again, louder, so loud Anna imagined it ruffled her hair as it passed, then a snarl, and another snarl.
Theresa pressed in closer to her. “I’m glad they sent the shifters to meet us. I wouldn’t want to meet whatever is fighting back there.”
“Very true,” Anna said, but still thinking she might want to meet them. She liked warriors. Enjoyed their displays of strength and dominance. Theresa liked her males big, like Anna did, big and strong, but Theresa preferred goofier ones, who would stand on their head to get a laugh out of a pretty woman. Anna liked to watch the fighting.
“Do you think Antimony is here?” Theresa whispered, eyes on the cosh, where female children ran and chased each other, baskets of wash laying forgotten in the sunshine.
Anna nodded. “She was in town three days ago. The stable shifter said he saw her with his own eyes, wearing pants, with rocks and sticks braided into her hair, right in town, no fear of any challenging her.”
Of course no one would challenge Antimony, the oldest and most powerful of all switches. It was said she could kill a vampire with a glance, which could not be true. There were many other rumors about Antimony, about who and what she might be, but Anna did not like to gossip.
In front of them was a young girl, maybe five years old, kneeling in the flowers twenty feet ahead of them. She wore a simple cotton dress, bare feet, with dirty hair and a dirty face. She was kneading bright pink magicks in her palm, then coating the fluff of a dandelion with it. Anna was impressed. Anna was strong in magic, always had been, and still she had not been able to produce magicks until she’d gained the curves of womanhood. Living at the cosh must make all the difference. It was a wonder that she and Theresa had been called to the cosh at all, when Fate had children like these to choose from. There were older children near the house, from ten to fifteen years of age. None of them saw Anna and Theresa. All counted on their shifters to keep them safe and did not need to worry about scanning the forest line for enemies. If a vampire came close, all would feel it, all would be turned toward him, drawn to slice him open with hot magic at the first opportunity.
Anna cleared her throat, approaching the child from the side, ready to kneel to explain who they were. The child’s face shot toward them, her expression not startled at all. She crushed the dandelion in her palm and ran for the cosh. “They have arrived!” she shouted as she ran.
Anna stood and shared a look with Theresa, anticipation rolling in her gut. They strolled slowly forward, waiting for whatever came next, taking it all in, the house, the forest, the magicks. There were magicks everywhere. You couldn’t see magic the way you could see magicks
, but magicks always meant some type of magic had been done. Like the circle off to one side of the cosh, a circle of dirt where magicks rolled and moved like colorful inchworms, swarming the bottoms of elaborately-carved benches and seats all placed to surround one point in the very center. Much magic had been done there, leaving magicks to dissipate over time. Ten seats, almost like thrones, gathered loosely around something, small fire pits dotting the spaces between the ten seats, then benches and more fire pits circling all, spiraling outward like a star. Half the meadow was filled with this arrangement and Anna felt herself drawn there. It was where the ceremonies would be held, and where the truths of the Forest would be spoken.
As Anna headed that way, ignoring Theresa’s questioning, “Anna?” she could feel the cosh to her left, the building where the lives of the shifters and switches were lived, but this circle, this spiral, this gathering Anna’s feet were taking her toward? This was where all those lives were birthed, legitimized, and where they died. The object at the very center was an empty, waist-high stand, carved from a wood Anna could not name and with a skill Anna had never seen before. Wooden vines snaked up the sides, barely hiding the eyes of wooden predators who watched to see what you placed on this stand, this podium, this bastion of power.
There would be ceremony. Anna would be ready.
She stepped into the first circle-spiral of benches, finding the ones that Bond switches and shifters favored, from the orange magicks lining the area. She stepped further into the circle, running her fingers along the carved seats, toeing the remains of charred wood from old fires. She would not go near that stand of power in the center, could feel already that it was not her place, but the rest of it? This was where she belonged. She found the First Bond Switch’s seat easily. There were five elements in the cosh, three switches to each element, one of them with authority over the other two. The biggest and most forward seat in this area had to belong to her.
