by Jamie Davis
The old man’s form shimmered, and the massive lake dragon stood there. His voice now spoke directly in Quinn’s mind. Let’s go for a swim. I want you to see something out in the lake. If you survive the trip, you might have what it takes to save your young dragon.
The dragon surged forward, slipping into the water with an ease that didn’t match his bulk. Barely a ripple remained above the surface to show his passing as he swam toward the middle of the lake. Quinn waded forward until the chill water passed her waist. With a gasp, she dove in and swam after him.
Quinn considered herself a strong swimmer, but it had been a while since she’d swum any distance. Her muscles and lungs burned before long with the strain of trying to keep up with Gil. He had pulled so far ahead that she could only just make out his form through the clear blue water ahead.
This is your first lesson, Gil whispered in her mind. The wild magic is present in the lake’s waters like it is in many large fixtures in nature. It is one reason I choose to live here. Reach out to it and picture yourself belonging to the water. See yourself as a native in a world, unlike the one you came from.
She pictured herself as she was, swimming with ease across the lake’s surface.
No, girl. Don’t see yourself within the constraints of your human form. You can already assume that shape. You have to be one with the lake’s other denizens.
Quinn tried shifting her vision to see herself as a fish version of a woman. Her mind pictured a cartoon mermaid from her youth.
You cannot be one of the merfolk, girl. You have to see Quinn, the real you, the one that would be at home in the lake.
Quinn’s lungs ached with every breath she took between strokes now. Her exhaustion distracted her, and the next time she turned her head to breathe, she opened her mouth too early and took in a massive gulp of water.
Coughing spasms wracked her body as she stopped swimming and tried to clear her throat while struggling to tread water.
Focus, Quinn. You’re trying to push when you should let the magic pull you where it wants to go.
Quinn coughed and shouted, “You said the wild magic would kill me.”
No, I said you’ll kill yourself trying to control something that cannot be controlled. The wild magic knows you better than you know yourself. Give in to it and let the magic take over. Give up control to gain access to it.
If Quinn hadn’t been struggling to not drown, she’d have rolled her eyes. What Gil had said made no sense. She tried to gauge how far it was back to shore. Having trouble locating it from the middle of the lake, she brought up her HUD and attempted to engage the map function. She stopped when she spotted a new purple icon in the center of the upper edge of her visual field.
The new icon had three vertical wavy lines that pulsed in variations of indigo, violet, and dark purple. Reaching out with her mind, Quinn clicked the icon. She gasped for one last breath as something tugged her body and dragged her underwater.
Quinn fought back, reaching down for whatever pulled her toward the depths, but found nothing gripping her feet. She stroked and kicked with all her strength, trying to return to the surface. She struggled without success as the blue light above her dwindled and the darkness of deeper water closed around her.
She kept resisting, using up what little oxygen she had remaining. Her lungs ached with the buildup of carbon dioxide.
As a last-ditch effort, Quinn accessed the HUD and tried to reactivate the icon. The three wavy lines glowed uniform indigo now. It would not change, resisting her efforts to click on it.
She ran out of air and her head pounded from lack of oxygen, her vision narrowing as she started to lose consciousness. Without realizing it, she opened her mouth and gasped for a breath of air that wasn’t there, sucking in water.
Instead of coughing as she would have expected, her body pushed the water through her chest. As it coursed through her, the ache and need for air dissipated. Warmth passed her sides. Her vision cleared, and her headache lessened. She didn’t have the burning need to breathe anymore.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Floating in the depths of the lake and able to see more clearly than before, Quinn sucked in more water and once again felt a warm flow at her sides beneath her arms.
She twisted her head and looked down, eyes widening at the triple flaps of skin just below her sports bra. She drew in more water through her mouth. A second later, the flaps opened as water flowed out. A glance showed similar flaps on the other side.
I have freaking gills! Quinn thought. She couldn’t say it aloud, after all. No air passed over her vocal cords.
Very well done, Quinn, Gil said in mindspeak. For a little bit there, I was afraid you’d fail to figure it out. The wild magic knew what was needed to sustain you down here. You had to trust it to do what needed to be done.
But what if it had decided I didn’t need gills but instead put lead weights around my feet?
Then you’d have died. That is the lesson here. The wild magic will not be controlled or coerced. However, if you extend your trust, it will often give you what you need rather than what you think you want.
So, now what? Quinn asked.
Now we swim. You’re finally built for it.
Gil’s monstrous form circled her once with effortless grace. Then, with a thrash of his long tail, he darted into the distant darkness. Quinn pushed at the water to follow and noticed her feet had elongated into fins, and webbing stretched between her fingers.
Kicking with her new, more powerful limbs, Quinn swept through the water at a speed she’d never thought possible for a person. Of course, she wasn’t a person, was she? She was Quinn, the super fish girl.
Gil took her on a tour of the lake over the next two hours, showing her sunken motorboats on the bottom. He took her to the surface to show her a collection of human homes built on the lake’s shores. She stared at them with nothing but her forehead and eyes above the water. He also pointed out a deep underwater cave. Quinn started to swim toward the cave’s entrance, but Gil veered in front of her, halting her progress.
That is not for you right now. I show it to you merely to make sure you stay back from it.
What’s in there?
It’s a warren of twisting caves and caverns that run under the mountains to the north, but you’re not ready yet. I haven’t decided which way your studies should turn. Should you survive the other things I have planned for you, we will see if this is something you should do before returning to Baltimore.
Wow, Quinn thought. Cryptic much?
Gil’s mind projected glee at her. This is turning out to be much more fun than I expected. You have surprised me, and there is little in this world that manages to do that anymore.
I’ll take that as a compliment. Quinn turned in the water, enjoying the freedom her finned limbs allowed her in this underwater world. So, what next?
Next, we see if you survive the transition back to the surface. It is getting late. Come with me.
Quinn hadn’t considered there would be a problem going in the other direction. She followed Gil as he swam toward the shore, realizing they’d made a full circle and were close to where she’d entered the lake.
Gil surfaced and moved onto the banks. Quinn swam until she could go no farther underwater, then pressed her webbed hands into the muddy bottom and lifted her head into the cool evening air.
As soon as her face left the water, Quinn’s vision shifted, becoming distorted and out of focus. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see clearly. Standing and walking toward the shore, water flowed down her sides as her gills drained.
Pain flared in her chest when she sucked in air and she doubled over with cramps, aching agony radiating throughout her chest. She fell to her knees in the last few inches of water along the shoreline and struggled to pull in more air, trying to understand why she couldn’t breathe again.
Gil, now back in human form, stood on the shore a few feet away. “You’ve forgotten already. Perhaps you’re
not suited to this after all.”
“No,” Quinn croaked. It wasn’t speech in the usual sense. She forced air over her vocal cords using her abdominal muscles since her lungs weren’t working.
For a moment, Quinn considered going back into the lake to replenish her oxygen, but something told her if she returned, she’d never come back. Instead, she forced herself to remain where she was and tried to make herself change back.
Nothing she did worked, despite concentrating on being as human as she could manage. Then, in another moment of clarity, Quinn opened her HUD. The top center icon was active again and glowed in rotating shades of tan, gold, and saffron. Quinn clicked on it and relaxed when her dizziness and cramping went away.
Her hands had returned to normal. The skin on her flanks was smooth and unbroken by gills, and her eyes now focused normally in the differing medium of the air.
“You surprise me again, young Quinn.”
Quinn looked up at Gil and smiled. “I have my moments.” Her stomach churned, the gurgle audible to both of them. “I’m suddenly starving. Did you have more fish at the house?”
“I have a ham curing in the cellar, along with some things I picked up at the market in the village nearby. We have plenty to eat.
“Good, because I feel like I’m about to pass out. Lead on. I’m right behind you.”
Gil chuckled and shook his head as he started toward his cabin. Quinn glanced back at the lake and then looked down at her body. It all seemed like it had happened to someone else, and she’d only been along for the ride.
Shaking her head, she realized while she’d passed the first two tests, she still had a great deal to learn about how to work with wild magic.
Chapter Ten
Quinn spent three more days with Gil, working on her transformation until she felt no resistance to the change to and from her aquatic form. On the last day, she and Gil spent the afternoon hunting.
The lake dragon required a tremendous amount of food, even though he spent most of his time with Quinn in human form. She swam with him and scared schooling fish in his direction. His neck snaked out, jaws open wide so they could snap down, catching two or three large lake trout at a time.
On the last run, when Gil was getting full, Quinn pulled out her Bowie. When a large trout turned to evade Gil’s snapping jaw, Quinn used her powerful fins to propel herself forward with the blade held out in front of her. She angled toward the nearest of the scattering fish and skewered one on the knife.
The fish slid down the blade, resting against the guard, its tail lashing at the water in its death throes. She slowed and gripped the trout by the head, then slid it off her blade and tucked it into a canvas pouch she’d crafted a few nights before to hold the fish she caught for her meals. The dying fish settled into the satchel beside another she’d nabbed earlier. She’d never been a fan of fish, but there was something about catching your own and preparing it that made it taste delicious.
Well done, Quinn. Gil’s voice echoed in her mind.
Quinn turned and responded in kind with her thought voice, her mouth busy drawing in water to pass down and over her gills.
I think I’m getting the hang of this.
I will miss our hunts together. You are an apt pupil.
Quinn knew she’d done well, but that was because of her unique HUD display and abilities. She was no closer to being able to do anything real with the wild magic. She had no idea how to stop the things happening back in the city.
Gil, while I enjoy this time in the water with you and have mastered this particular transformation, I don’t see how it’s supposed to help with wild magic outbreaks.
Disappointment radiated from her connection to Gil’s mind. It’s all the same, girl. Have you learned nothing? You still think to ‘manage’ something uncontrollable.
I adapted to aquatic form easily enough once I accepted it, Quinn said.
Gil’s huge dragon head swung around until his enormous glowing, yellow eyes stared into hers. You accepted nothing. You did nothing. It was the wild magic that did it. You only released your resistance. That is what must be done with all the wild magic until the little one is hatched.
Hatched? When will that be? The thought of a dragon growing up and lumbering around downtown Baltimore scared her.
I fear it will be soon. That is the final lesson I have for you, because without your assistance, the little green will have no chance of survival.
What must I do? Quinn asked. The idea of the dragon dying because of something she couldn’t do frightened her.
Not now. Let us take the two fish you’ve caught and return to the cabin. There are a few last things we must discuss before you return to your home.
Gil’s long reptilian form snaked away, gliding smoothly through the water to the west. Quinn slid the pouch on its shoulder strap around to rest on her back, then she kicked hard to catch up with the lake dragon.
They returned to the shore, emerging at the same time and transforming to human form simultaneously. The last of the water drained from her gills before the skin flaps closed, allowing her lungs to fill with air again. She drew a big breath, the most awkward part of the entire process. It was more than a little uncomfortable.
Gil caught her grimace as she sucked in air in two more gasping breaths. “You still fight it. It is not as easy as it should be.”
“I think I’m always going to be the kind of girl who prefers walking around on dry land.”
Gil shook his head and poked her breastbone. “That is why you risk failure in this venture. Because you resist and do not see yourself as the wild magic sees you, it is difficult to switch back and forth.
“I’m not sure how to deal with that. Maybe going through the exercises you taught me will help some.”
“They might,” Gil said, conceding her point. “The purpose is to attune you to listen to the wild magic that is linked to you. Until you can do that without pause, any transformation will be difficult for you.”
“Oh, joy.” Quinn liked a challenge probably more than anyone she knew. She took it personally when anyone dared her to do something, believing they doubted her abilities. This, however, had to be one of the hardest things she’d ever tried.
Typically, with magic or supernatural things or any of her secret abilities, Quinn could see, touch, or smell the source of the problem. In this case, she had to assume it was there, even though she couldn’t do anything to verify it. She didn’t sense the hidden flows until it was too late, and by then, they’d coalesced into something dangerous.
That was what she’d hoped to learn here: how to see what the wild magic intended. Gil had been telling her it was impossible, but she’d hoped that like the new icon, she’d be able to develop shortcuts for drawing in power so it didn’t cause anyone harm.
“Gil,” Quinn said, “I’ve appreciated your time teaching me. This is one area where I don’t know if this is the right way to go about it. I’ve learned over the last year that when it comes to being the Huntress, I have to do things my own way.”
Gil didn’t answer, although she could see the disapproval on his face. They started working on preparing dinner. He’d taught her to scale, clean, and filet fish the first night, and she found she had a knack for it. It was dirty work getting started, but a nice filet with all the bones removed was a reward in and of itself.
Gil had a cast iron pan heating on the stovetop. When she brought the fish over, he scooped some bacon fat from a jar and dropped it into the pan. He let it melt and then took each filet and settled it gently into the hot oil.
The smell of the cooking fish set Quinn to salivating. All she wanted to do was stand there and drink it in until the meal was ready. Gil had other ideas.
“Go set the table. Put out three settings tonight.”
“You expecting company?” Quinn asked.
“I have a feeling an old friend might drop by.”
Quinn shrugged. She hadn’t seen anyone else while she’d been here,
or not up close. There were a lot of people out and around the lake, especially on the far shore. She and Gil had avoided them, hiding beneath the blue waters of the lake. Having a visitor, especially a supernatural one, would be a pleasant change of pace.
“I wish we’d caught more than the two we did. I don’t know that there’ll be enough.”
Gil shook his head. “Whoever it is will likely bring in something as a gift since this is my home. We’ll see what it is and incorporate it into our meal as best we can. It’s the way in these parts. No one takes offense.”
Quinn grabbed three of the tin plates and mugs off a nearby shelf and put out the place settings. She grabbed the stamped metal flatware too, so each had a knife, fork, and spoon.
She had her back to the door when it creaked open behind her. The scent of something similar to wet fur reached her. Quinn knew what that meant and spun to keep from having her back to a shifter. What she saw widened her eyes. The man who walked in wasn’t just big. He had to duck to come in, and his broad shoulders and barrel chest made it so he had to turn sideways to fit through the door.
Gil turned with a huge grin on his face. “Terrence! How are you?”
The man’s voice was deep, slow, and rough like grinding gravel. “I’m well. Who’s she?”
“That’s Quinn. She’s here learning a little something from me.” Gil glanced her way and winked.
“She responsible for the ripples I’ve felt?” Terrence asked. He still stood near the door as if he weren’t sure if he wanted to come in.
“She is,” Gil replied. “I wondered as she blundered around, finding her way. Come in, for God’s sake. She won’t bite.”
Terrence gave Quinn a side-eye glance and stepped farther in, shutting the door behind him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Terrence,” Quinn said. “I was excited when Gil mentioned we might have some company this evening.”
