"Of course. My godfather is one."
"Your..." he spluttered. "And you're okay with that?"
She laughed lightly. "Don't be so prejudiced. They are people like you and me, and most can control their urges. Or live them out in a way that doesn't hurt anybody."
"But... I'm not sure I'd want an incubus around my children."
She laughed again. "Wait until you meet him. Then you might think differently."
What did she mean by that? What were the chances of him meeting her godfather? She was just helping him find that ruby, right? And then expected him to leave and never meet again?
Or was she looking for more?
She moved around the room, sniffing the air while carefully stepping over boxes. "It's not far, I've smelled it before.”
"Do I even want to know?" he asked, grimacing slightly. Incubi were an interesting species for him to wrap his head around. He'd only ever heard tales of what they could achieve, but even they terrified him. The loss of control, and the influence they could have...just no.
"They go for a lot of money, and Uncle Morris was a little short, so he made one."
"Morris?" That wasn't a name he'd imagine an incubus having.
"Yes, Uncle Morris. He met my Dad when they competed against each other in some sort of supernatural Olympics for teenagers."
"What a mouthful," Izban muttered.
"Quite. Now shhh please while I try and find the ruby."
He watched as she sniffed the air, her stub of a tail waggling slightly as she did. She was probably trying to use it for balance as a reflex. The image tugged on something inside him. She couldn't be comfortable tail-less. It was likely what losing a hand or foot would feel like to him.
"How often do they take your tail?" he asked despite himself, drawing a dirty look from the beithir.
She chose to ignore him and wandered further into the cluttered room, heading towards a large standing cupboard with a large amount of surety.
Cocking her head to the side, she twisted the handle and threw the doors open, revealing shelves laden with glittering jewels of all colours, shapes and sizes.
It was a pirates dream. Shame he wasn't one.
"They keep these beneath a school?"
"Where else would they keep them? No one really knows they're here." She searched through the cupboard, picking up the odd gem and examining it, before replacing it with a dissatisfied sigh.
"You do."
"Because I can smell them," she pointed out, this time choosing a small oval stone and lifting it to her nose.
"And the others can't?"
"Likely not. A beithir's sense of smell is one of the best in the world. Plus, they'd have to know what they were smelling, and as far as I know, there's no incubi or succubi here to recognise it."
"I'm sure someone else probably could." Other people knew how the demon spawned races smelled, surely?
"Maybe, but they'd still need to be down here in the first place, and I certainly haven't seen any crowds."
"Well no..." he trailed off, already hating how wrong she was proving him. She was certainly a bright woman. As well as powerful, a deadly combination if ever he knew one.
And that was before anyone got to the poisonous teeth. They'd make all the difference in a fight.
"There you go then, perfect place to hide priceless artefacts." She replaced the small red stone, and picked up a bigger one, set into a gold chain with filigree edges. He wrinkled his nose at the garishness of the setting.
"Is that it?"
She nodded. "Yes, definitely it."
"Does it have to come set like that?"
A chuckle ending in a slight hiss drew his attention to her face. She was smiling, clearly at ease with him now. "Of course not, it's the ruby you want, not the necklace, but do you really have time to pry it out and make it different?" He shook his head. "Thought not."
"Thank you, Amber," he said, pocketing the stone, his hand brushing over his grandfather's list.
"You're welcome. It's not like it was doing anything sat in a cupboard down here. What do you need it for anyway?"
"I wish I knew," he replied. He sighed, pushing his hand over his face and messing up his hair. It was a good thing he wasn't overly conscious of his appearance, unless he counted wanting blue hair and a multitude of piercings, otherwise the gesture would have been far more frustrating.
"You've broken into a school and pretended to be a teacher for something you don't even know why you want?" Her voice lifted at the end, conveying her confusion. He couldn't blame her, he'd been confused ever since his grandfather had first given him the list.
"It's important."
"I'd hope so. I wouldn't like to think what the Headmistress would do to you if she found out. She likes to spit fire on a good day."
"That wouldn't be a problem," he responded, thinking of his own powers. Fire was unlikely to hurt him. And even if it did, he knew enough healing spells to be alright.
"If you say so, still wouldn't risk it for something I'm clueless about."
"I have a list," he admitted, annoyed with himself for caving to her so easily. But her curiosity was contagious, and he found himself wondering about the list for what was probably the first time. He should have asked his grandfather about it. That was his right as heir. And yet, he'd just been a good grandchild and done what he was told. Like he always had. And probably always would. Tradition went a long way for mages.
He studied Amber from the corner of his eye. She didn't look quite as young and innocent in this light as she had during their lesson on storms. Here, she looked like the dangerous creature she was. Maybe it was just because he'd seen her in her animal form. But he doubted it.
"Why were you down here?" he finally thought to ask.
"Regrowing my tail." She shrugged and closed the doors of the cupboard. She sauntered away from him, heading back towards the door they'd entered, so he had no chance to follow.
"That works?" He was surprised. Surely it wasn't as straightforward as that.
"No. I forgo sleep, and come hang out in the creepiest part of the school, just for fun," she snapped. "Sorry, I'm just grumpy. It's not exactly fun losing a tail." Her tone was softer, and her apology seemed genuine.
"No, I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me." She nodded, not arguing back, and while he hated that, he knew she was in the right. "Is this really the creepiest part of the school?" He was proud of himself for deflecting with a change of subject, but regretted it when a slightly wicked smile crossed her lips.
"Probably not, no."
"What is?" he asked eagerly.
"Want me to show you?" she teased.
"Yes."
"Then follow this way.”
5
"You know this building wasn't always used as a school?" she asked as they walked deeper into the catacombs. She'd explored them when she first came to the college. She may have used regrowing her tail has an excuse to justify her exploration to Izban, but in truth she was simply curious. Living in a place that she hadn't completely searched for anything interesting was no fun. So she'd spent dozens of nights walking through the endless tunnels beneath the school, enjoying the atmosphere of mystery and the forbidden. Strangely enough, there were few warded doors; the teachers probably thought that nobody would be interested in wandering so far into the maze of corridors. Luckily, Amber had an excellent sense of direction and only got lost a few times. And while her magic wasn't strong at all, she was able to summon a light bright enough to find her way. That wasn't to say that she hadn't occasionally stumbled on the uneven floor. Once she even broke through a decayed wooden trapdoor into a hidden chamber beneath. And that was exactly where she was leading Izban now.
"What was it before?" he asked as he followed her closely behind. She could almost feel his breath on her neck.
"It was used by the Shifter Government at some point, but before that, it was a prison. Do you believe in ghosts?"
He chuckled. "Not re
ally, although some of your teachers might pass as one."
"Then let me change your mind."
They'd reached a small door, not much wider than Amber. It was going to be a slight squeeze for Izban. She still didn't know why anyone would build such a tiny door. It didn't make sense - but then, not a lot in this place made sense.
"Try not to offend her," she whispered and opened the door, revealing a dusty chamber that was likely host to a few hundred spiders. In the middle of the room was a large square hole in the floor; the place where the trapdoor had been before Amber had broken it.
"Bea? Are you there? I brought a visitor!" she called, peering down into the darkness beneath them. She'd only been in there once before and wasn't planning on repeating that experience. Bea didn't like people seeing her down there either. She preferred to come upstairs to welcome her one and only visitor - Amber.
Izban shrieked as Bea shimmered into being and Amber had a hard time stifling her snicker. He was pretending to be so strong and brave, but confront him with the ghost of a 17th century woman and he freaked out.
"What is she?" he shouted and the woman tsked.
"Don't you know it's impolite not to address the ghost in question?" Bea asked, adjusting her bonnet. She was in her fifties, an old age back in the times she lived in.
"S...Sorry," Izban stammered. "What are you?"
Bea chuckled and turned to Amber, who was watching the exchange with a wide smile on her lips. "Is he always this slow?"
"I wouldn't know, I only met him today."
"Well, he doesn't seem very bright. You may want to think about it before you start a relationship with him. I know how overwhelming young love can be."
Amber blushed and turned to hide her reddening cheeks. "You're daft, Bea. Now tell him what he wants to know."
The old ghost tsked again, then sat down in the air, crossing her legs until it looked like she was meditating.
"I'm dead, dear boy, and I've been a ghost for about three hundred years now. They let me starve in here, thinking I was a witch. Well, I wasn't, but my cellmate was. With her last breath, she wished that I would live - and she got her wish, even though it was not as she intended." She paused, seemingly lost in thought, until her eyes cleared and she began to stare at Izban.
"Is blue hair the fashion nowadays? I don't get out much, I don't like leaving my body behind."
Izban looked like he was tempted to look down into the chamber beyond the trapdoor, but Amber shook her head. The skeletons in there were not a pretty sight, nibbled on by generations of rats.
"I like it," he said defensively and the old woman chuckled.
"Oh, me too. I would get my hair dyed, if I could, but alas, it's destined to stay white, just like the rest of me. But Amber, darling, you've not come down here in a while. Tell me the latest gossip, will you, dear?"
"There's not much to tell you, Bea," she said, studying her clawed fingertips intensely.
"Really? Then how come you're stood here in your scales and not one of those gods awful baggy shirts you normally do?"
Amber shuffled from side to side, not sure what about this was making her so uncomfortable. It wasn't like Izban hadn't seen her in her normal clothes, it was what she wore to school every day. But something about it being brought up made her feel odd.
"I do that for my tail," she pointed out.
"Which you seem to have lost again." Bea didn't seem particularly concerned by that, nor surprised in the slightly.
Amber hissed.
"Don't hiss at me, young lady, it's not my fault you haven't given them a little nip and taught them not to mess with you," Bea scolded.
"You know I can't do that," she protested.
"Why not?" Both women's heads turned to the side in shock. Amber had almost forgotten Izban was in the room with them, and Bea seemed to have done the same.
"It could kill them," Amber admitted softly. "I may not want them ripping off my tail, but I also don't want them dead. It's terribly bad luck."
Izban chuckled softly.
"Ripping off your tail would be their bad luck if you bit them."
Bea's tinkling laugh filled the room. "I change my mind. Keep this one, Amber."
"He's not mine to keep," she muttered, her cheek flushing as she spoke. It wasn't even appropriate for Bea to suggest that. Not when he was her teacher. Except...no, he wasn't her teacher, he'd just been pretending. That opened a whole new level of complications.
"And I still don't see why you don't wear nicer clothes, Amber. Let everyone see the real you." Bea gave her a stern look. She did this almost every time Amber came to visit. She really seemed to hate the idea of Amber not reaching her full potential. At least it made her miss her own family less. With someone else watching out for her, there was definitely a comfort in that.
"The human's would likely have a fit if they saw I have a tail." Amber shrugged.
"Spell it?"
"That's not possible," Amber protested instantly.
"Seriously?" Bea raised an eyebrow, then turned to look at Izban rather than Amber. "Is it possible?"
"I've never tried, but I shouldn't think so. It'd just need a hiding spell placed on it," he replied, a thoughtful look on his face.
"That's beside the point," Amber interrupted. "I don't have any other clothes anyway, so it's not something I need to worry about."
"You don't have any clothes right now," Bea teased.
"I can summon them for you if you want, though?" Izban asked tentatively. Despite herself, Amber appreciated the offer. It seemed genuine too, as if he actually wanted to help her.
"My scales are fine, thank you."
The three of them lapsed into silence for a few moments. It was unusual for Bea to be quiet for so long, and Amber worried about that. She didn't want things to become awkward between her and her only friend at school.
"So tell me about you," Bea prompted Izban after a few moments. "Why are you here?"
Amber perked up at that. She was eager to find out what he'd been doing. And why he wanted such weird items.
"Erm..."
"You can tell us," Bea added. "Amber and I are very trustworthy."
Izban frowned, as if he was considering hard for just a few moments. "I have a list."
"Of..."
"Items."
"Cryptic," Amber added in exasperation. What was the point in only half opening up? He may as well have just stayed silent.
"Sorry, I'm not used to being able to say much about my abilities. I spend a lot of time around humans, you know what they're like."
Amber nodded. But Bea shook her head.
"Actually, no. I don't. I was a human until a mage spelled me, but I was clueless about the supernatural world until then. I'm not sure how humans would act. Especially humans now." She pouted, a highly amusing expression on a ghost. It'd probably be a lot more effective if she wasn't translucent.
"Sorry," Izban offered. "They're not very accepting of anything or anyone that's different. They're definitely not ready to know about our world."
"Good to know," Amber said, nodding her head.
"You didn't already?"
"No. I'm a beithir, remember? We basically live with our swarm in the mountains unless we're at school. Other than that, we fly in the storm clouds. We don't really interact with humans very much." She shrugged. It was probably something she should rectify. Especially if she didn't want to spend the rest of her life in the same place she was born.
"I didn't realise beithirs were so antisocial," he admitted.
"Explains a lot, right?" Bea teased. "Now, your list, young man."
"Yes." He rustled through his pocket and pulled out a worn piece of paper with words scribbled all over it. Amber's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned over to look down the list. Only getting annoyed with herself when she couldn't work what any of them meant. Except for sgiathan sìthe, but she had no idea what anyone would use a fairy's wings for. Other than fairies, naturally. She understood the
ir use for their wings.
"Hand it over," Bea said, holding out a hand and making a grabbing motion.
Reluctantly, and with a clear expression of confusion on his face, Izban handed it over. Bea's spectral fingers closed around it, seeming surprisingly solid as she held the paper.
"Hmm." Her white brow furrowed, and a slither of anxiety wormed its way into Amber. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.
"What is it?" Izban asked.
Amber was a little taken aback. Why didn't he know what was on the list? If she were him she'd have studied it time and time again, until she knew it by heart and could recite it aloud.
"Do you know what's on this?" Bea asked, her words coming out slowly as if she was still thinking about them.
"Yes, I memorised the list."
"Do you know what they are?" The same tone coloured her voice, though Amber didn't know if it was wariness of Izban, or over what was on it.
"Most of them yes."
"Who gave it to you?" This question came quicker, as if Bea was coming to actual conclusions and not just clutching at straws.
"My grandfather."
"Do you know why he's looking for the ingredients to gain immortality?"
6
Izban didn't speak while following Amber back into the main part of the school. His mind was far too busy mulling over what Bea had said. Immortality. He was having trouble getting his head around it. He knew his grandfather was having delusions of grandeur occasionally, but actually wanting to be immortal? No, that couldn't be right.
A tiny little voice in his head was telling him that it was a good idea, that if his grandfather wasn't to die, Izban wouldn't have to become Elder Mage. But that wasn't the point. There was a reason magic only appeared in every second generation. Izban's parents were as normal as humans went, although of course they'd grown up knowing that magic existed. His father was even on the Mage Council, representing the non-magical mages, as they called themselves. But the jump in generations was so that younger people would take over their grandparents' roles, bringing new ideas and knowledge into the mix.
Through the Storms Page 4
