by Zoe Parker
“Miss Nightshade, it’s your turn.” I reluctantly stop petting Lance and turn back to Mr. Sputen. “Do you know the incantation?” I nod. It’s one of the first things Nagan taught me, except I only know the Sluagh version. “Well, then please move to the circle.” For some reason, this teacher has decided to dislike to me. I can hear it in his voice and see it on his face as he looks at me.
This is going to make things fun.
I trudge over to the summoning circle drawn on the sandy floor to protect users from wild magic. Taking a deep breath, I center myself and whisper my chosen word of power, “Existence.”
All words of power are granted to magic users by Faerie at birth. It’s the first word you speak when you learn to talk. Nagan told me that mine is a special word, like the Sluagh’s are special. I guess until now I didn’t realize how different mine really is.
The Sprite who went before me used a number and I bet the ones after me are like that too. At least her magic worked, mine has decided to take its sweet time. Finally, the small pool of magic inside me begins to stir. I feel it twist and writhe before shooting out into the now silent room.
At first nothing happens, which doesn’t surprise me at all. Then after I start to become incredibly uncomfortable at all the stares I’m receiving, there’s a small pop sound and a tiny yellow worm appears in the circle at my feet.
He’s so flipping cute!
Kneeling, I scoop him up carefully with my hand and nuzzle him, whispering, “Fluffy,” his name.
Stroking a finger down his lumpy spine, I watch him open a tiny little mouth exposing tiny little sharp teeth and bite the meaty part of my thumb. He’s not doing it to be mean, he’s doing it to cement the blood bond between us.
My magic moves inside of me, again, as if the spell is still active. That doesn’t make any sense.
“You got a slug for a familiar?” The voice intrudes upon my happy little worm petting moment.
Laughter breaks out around me. Only one person isn’t laughing, Ciar. My eyes seek him out, he’s staring at me with an odd look on his face. Is it pity because they’re laughing at me? I hope not, their opinions don’t matter—I’m perfectly content with Fluffy. My new little friend who is currently rubbing against my palm while making little growling noises.
Flipping adorable.
“Miss Nightshade, I’m afraid that we will have to have you try again. That… worm is unacceptable as a familiar.” Mr. Sputen clears his throat nervously as he speaks.
Frowning I look up at him. What? There’s no way to break the bond with a familiar except in death.
“No, you’re not killing Fluffy.” I tuck him protectively against my chest.
“Miss Nightshade, you need a familiar that can help you increase your skill not—that.” He motions to someone behind me.
I feel the disturbance of movement and follow my instincts, curling over Fluffy protectively. Pain lances down my back. Claws. I know the feeling of those rather well. A deep growl silences the sudden raised voices. I know that growl too. Ciar.
The arena shakes around us, raining dust down on our heads. A loud roar pierces the air. I look up as another roar sounds and a hole appears when part of the ceiling is torn away, then another. Large clawed limbs reach through the growing hole and rips another chunk of ceiling away.
I look over at Ciar who is smiling and then back to the ceiling. What the fudge? A reptilian head pokes in the hole and black glowing eyes meet mine.
“Who dares attack my mistress?” His voice booms, as he slides through the mess he’s made of the ceiling and lands with a heavy thud and a swirl of sand a few feet from me. Holy meatballs it’s a Dragon!
As I meet his dark swirling eyes I realize something profound, he’s mine too. I can feel him and as the magic connects him and I, I start to know him.
“She is your master, Dragon?” Mr. Sputen asks, in disbelief.
“Zag,” I whisper, closing the distance between myself and the Dragon.
His big scaled nose nudges me when I approach and rumbles with satisfaction as I scratch the soft scales behind his ear hole.
“I have waited millennia for a proper master, girl, and finally I heard your call,” he says, eyeing the crowd of students.
He swings his head towards the people staring at us in shock and then he sniffs the wounds on my back. His forked tongue snakes out and flicks my back. The texture of his tongue rough, like a cat’s, but the touch gentle. I feel them heal instantly just as I feel the blood bond snap into place.
“Who caused your wounds?” he asks me softly.
I shrug. I didn’t see who or what did it but then something pulls at me to look at Ciar again. He’s holding something in his hands. It’s a big chunk of bloody fur.
“Ah, I see. My lord has already handled the culprit.” I don’t miss the note of satisfaction in Zag’s voice.
‘You didn’t kill it, right?’ I ask Ciar, instead of assuming. It’s not the familiar’s fault, I’m guessing that it’s Sputen’s and was doing what it was told to do.
Ciar shakes his head and wipes his hand down his jean clad leg. That makes me feel a bit better. The poor thing—whatever it is—I look over at Mr. Sputen knowing that my eyes are swirling with color. They always do when I’m angry. He takes a step back putting more distance between us. Even further when Zag rests his chin on my shoulder to look at the human mage.
“Keri called and therefore I answered. And now that I have ingested her blood we are now permanently bound. Do you contest my choice…human?” Zag is to the point and being intimidating on purpose.
Mr. Sputen shakes his head his face pale.
I can feel Zag’s irritation with the man through our bond, which is growing even stronger as the minutes pass. I can feel it pulsing between us like it’s alive.
In response to my wonder, Zag’s shadows thicken and swirl around us. Considering he’s a shadow dragon—the rarest kind in existence—this isn’t a surprise. That doesn’t make it any less cool, though.
The surprise in all of this is his appearance at all. Only the strongest magic users can have creatures like him for a familiar.
‘I am not surprised, monster girl,’ Ciar sounds very smug.
‘Well Ciar, that makes one of us.’ I don’t have any good comebacks. I’m full aware what this event means.
With a whoosh and small explosion of shadows, Zag shrinks and alights his housecat sized self on my shoulder. Well, that’s a handy trick.
“Zag, are you sure you’re my familiar?”
“Without a single shred of doubt.” Amusement laces his words.
“Well, maybe someone else…”
“It seems that you have two familiars, Miss Nightshade.” There’s a bite to Mr. Sputen’s words this time.
He isn’t happy about it, at all—which doesn’t make sense. Why is he concerned about me having a familiar or two when he should be pleased or somewhat that I have one at all?
“Although I have no idea what good a worm will do you,” he finishes.
I give him a smile full of satisfaction as I say, “Fluffy is a Corpse Worm, Mr. Sputen.”
The look of absolute shock on his face gives me enough gumption to keep from laughing out loud. I choose instead to laugh on the inside.
A Corpse Worm is a giant worm that feeds on the body and souls of the damned. Full grown he’ll be as big as Zag, minus the sparkly wings and feet. Fluffy will be all teeth and appetite.
“How is this possible?” Mr. Sputen mutters, waving for the class to continue with their summoning.
The bells chime, indicating it’s time for the next course. Zag nestles himself into my hair. Typically, familiars are dismissed to a user’s Blank Space, but I’m not about to do that—to either of them. I’ve no idea what it’s like in there but, I imagine it’s not a happy place.
My imagination has it painted as this big dark place.
I tuck Fluffy between my breasts and absently play with Zag’s tail that’s wrapped aro
und my neck, as I try to stay awake through my potions class. The water I chugged in between it and magical history class hits home.
I raise my hand unsure of what else to do and politely ask to be allowed to go to the restroom. Calmly I stroll out the door and then when the room is out of sight I pick up my step. I really got to go.
I wander through the halls for a good two-minutes before I finally find the women’s bathroom, all to Zag’s amusement. Hurrying in I take care of business and happily relieved, I stop at the cracked porcelain sinks to wash my hands.
Inevitably I end up looking at myself in the mirror. I hate seeing my face and my mismatched eyes. As a kid it just reminded me how much I didn’t fit in anywhere, not even in the forest. I’m too humanoid looking to be a Sluagh but too alien looking to be a human.
Mockingly my green eye swirls while, at first, the yellow one does nothing. Then like a match being lit it flares to life and swirls. Two vastly different colors moving in an identical pattern.
They go well with my pointy flipping ears.
Forcing myself to hum a happy tune, I dry my hands and turn to leave. That’s when I spot the blue violin from my closet leaning casually against the wall of the bathroom door. The door I came in.
Fudge. The cursed thing followed me.
Ducking out of the bathroom door with it tucked under my arm, I stop long enough to stuff it in the janitor’s closet and, before I can change my mind, I slam the door and practically run away. I don’t want all the crap that having this thing entails. Maybe someone else will find it and use it.
Ciar gives me a knowing look when I slip back into the classroom. I have no idea how he knows I’m feeling guilty over something but he does. Ciar always has had a nose for my guilt. Gods know he caught me out enough as a kid.
To avoid looking at him, and looking even more guilty, I stare at the clock. Chewing on my thumbnail, I watch the second-hand tick around it like a hawk. A nip of sharp teeth at my wrist stops the bad habit before I worry it down to the quick. Zag is already being useful and demonstrating how bossy he’s going to be in the future.
I wonder if I can win an argument against a Dragon?
Finally, the teachers dismiss us for lunch. I’m so hungry and eager to get out of the class I’m first out the door. The good thing about magic is the Fae working in the cafeteria know exactly what you want or need to eat and because of this your food appears right on your table.
I laugh when ours pops into existence. A platter full of meat—lots of it—which I love, the rawer the better. This place provided the best and it’s practically still mooing. Ciar gives me a wolfish smile before grabbing a large hunk of it and taking a toothy bite out of it.
Amused, I give Fluffy small pieces and Zag hops onto the table to feed himself. Smiling at the mini-version of the Dragon tossing a piece of meat into the air and swallowing it whole is entertaining.
I chew my own piece of steak with gusto.
“Do you have all of the same classes as me, Ciar?” I ask, around a mouthful of food.
He nods but his eyes are on something over my shoulder. I glance behind me, not the least surprised that everyone is staring at us and whispering. It reminds me of what I realized with blinding clarity earlier in the hallway.
“There aren’t very many like us here, are there?” He contemplates me a moment while he chews.
He then holds a piece of meat to my lips. Absently I take it between my teeth and chew.
“At the moment, no.” I frown at his answer.
What does that mean? Pushing the issue with Ciar is pointless and I’m not sure I feel like having an argument right now. If he wants to tell me, he will, and the food is too good to spoil with bickering.
“Have you found any company yet?” I ask, because Pucas have one heck of a libido and I’m being snoopy too.
His green eyes take on an eerie glow as his teeth flash in that too big smile again. It makes me instantly suspicious which makes me double check my shielding, only to find out that it is holding firm.
“Oh, yes.” At his answer a shiver wracks me.
Those two words sound so dirty and my body responds to it that way. I have no idea why.
Nervously trying to continue the conversation I ask, “Who? One of those humans?” He shakes his head and takes another big bite of meat.
Frowning I continue chewing to keep my mouth occupied enough to not say anything else stupid. For some reason the thought of him being close to anyone else… bothers me. Something I have no right whatsoever to feel and something that never bothered me before.
Fudge.
Just how attached am I to him, really? I look at his green eyes and otherworldly face and those long sharp teeth of his. My heart rate jumps. Gods, this is flipping ridiculous.
Why am I suddenly so self-conscious about having an attraction to someone? Is it because of who it is? Anyone would feel attraction towards him and I’m a healthy woman and he’s a healthy man. It’s not like he’s the first man I’ve been attracted to.
Ciar’s eyes narrow. Is that sneaky bastard in my head again? I feel around for him in there and there’s nothing. Hm.
“You’re at the cusp of Awakening.” Zag’s whisper against my ear makes me jump.
“Zag I don’t think my Awakening is going to be that big of a deal,” I whisper, fiercely.
The fact that I have two familiars is now making me worry/wonder about it. Denial isn’t working and procrastination is out the window, I received two familiars and idiot could determine that no matter what I want, I’m going to Awaken. His loud chuckle echoes as he raises his eyes to be level with mine.
“I have lived for thousands upon thousands of years, waiting in the darkness for my chosen to call. You Keri, are that chosen. Only you were strong enough to call me forth and it is only you that I will serve for the rest of my life. Yes, your Awakening will be a big deal.” Done with his speech he tickles my cheek with his tongue and calmly goes back to his lunch like what he said isn’t a flipping life bomb.
A giggle of disbelief escapes me, I can’t help it. This is ludicrous—me having power of any kind? I can’t transform water and most toddlers can transform water. I’m the unwanted, almost murdered, child of a loony dead woman.
Then Mada sent me here… this entire situation is just one big messy fiasco. Somehow getting a Dragon and Corpse Worm for familiars—a flipping magical violin following me around. The icing on the cake is Ciar coming with me—voluntarily—and looking so damn…
Fudge.
Nervously, I shove the last piece of my steak in my mouth and look for a napkin. There’s blood all over my hand and I can feel it dripping down my wrist. A large, clawed hand grabs mine and, I sit there helplessly, while watching Ciar take that long dexterous tongue of his and slowly lick my hand clean. Even in between my fingers. So sensuously is it done that certain parts of me are aching to feel it on them.
I’m in so much trouble. Breaking the spell of his eyes, I yank my hand out of his grasp and practically run from the cafeteria. His chuckle follows me out.
Oh! where do Fairies jade their heads,
When snow lies on the hills,
When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,
And crystalized their rills?
~Thomas Haynes Bayly
Why is it that when you run away from something in a public place you always end up in the bathroom? Because that’s exactly where I’m headed. I guess I can tell myself it’s because I need to wash my hands. Most of its because Ciar can’t come in the bathroom and he’s the one I’m hiding from. Smacking the door to open I pause at the sound of “mean” laughter—you know the kind that reeks of menace—and someone crying.
Peeking around the half-wall at the entrance I see three women standing over one curled up on the floor. Now, I’m not big on sticking my nose in other’s business but I know bullying when I see it.
I won’t tolerate it. Stepping around the wall I clear my throat.
“Hey, some
dude was asking for you in the cafeteria. He’s new—black hair green eyes?” I lie, suspecting that hormones and egos will pull their attention from the gal on the fl0oor.
Ciar can forgive me later.
The level of lead-gal’s brains is demonstrated when she makes a snotty face at me and flounces out of the bathroom with her two side-kicks in her wake. Wow, I can’t believe they fell for that.
“Thank you,” the woman on the floor says, as she climbs to her feet.
“No problem,” I answer, heading for the sink. Since I’m in here I might as well actually wash my hands.
I look up and meet her eyes in the mirror. She’s human, and very pale. She smiles nervously and wrings her hands in front of her.
“I’m not going to lecture you on learning self-defense and all that garbage, but I can see—very clearly, that you have more than enough magic inside of you to defend yourself. So why didn’t you?”
“I’m a pacifist,” she answers, after staring at me for a solid minute.
She flips her long brown hair over her shoulder and regards me a bit less nervously. I smile, using my lips only. My teeth are sharp and tend to make people nervous when I show them. Well, humans anyhow and magic or not she’s human.
“You’re clearly one of them, I can see the point to your ears. So why did you help me?” she asks, quietly.
“You’re asking that because the girls doing it are Fae?” I dry my hands as I talk, holding her blue eyes with my own mismatched ones. She nods. “Just because I’m different than you doesn’t mean I like bullies of any species.”
This gets me a tentative smile, which I’m pleased about. I don’t want her to be afraid of me because I’m Fae. As I turn to toss the paper towel in the trash, a flash of purple catches my gaze in the mirror. Frowning, I turn back to the mirror and I spot the splash of color in my plain brown hair.
