Shifter's Storm

by Carol Van Natta

  Trixis opened the book and flipped pages, then turned it to show him. “This.” The sketches showed Rosinette, the sea wyvern, with the chained rods that pierced her wings.

  He squinted at the page, wishing Sunscar’s magic had included teaching him to read fairy script. “In her habitat?”

  Trixis stomped her foot. “No, she’s not. We tried both the pool and the tree grove. Where else?”

  He blinked sloth-slow and made a show of puzzlement. “I only know the river.” The pearl under his tongue nearly made him drool again.

  Trixis made a crunching sound with her teeth. “Is she in the river?” Her tone was that of an impatient adult to an inattentive toddler.

  “I don’t know. I’m not in the river now.” Risky to play that stupid, but he was counting on Nessireth’s book to not have mentioned that any of her collection had brains. Forcing them to keep their non-talking animal forms meant she didn’t have to feel guilty about it.

  “Okay, how about the eel? Or the swimming cat?” She flipped a page and pointed to illustrations of the capricorns. “Or whatever these animals are. None of them are where she marked them on the map.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not allowed to–”

  The castle shuddered under his feet. Demesne magic burned like wind-blown embers on his tender human skin. The goblet on the table tipped over.

  “Castle, what are you doing?” Trixis yelled angrily.

  The castle’s voice, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere, sounded irritated. “The demesne refuses entry to a retriever.”

  Omorachi arrived, carrying her phone. “Why does a dog want into the demesne?”

  “The retriever is mine,” the castle declared.

  “Oh, great. The castle has a pet.” Trixis wrinkled her nose. “Something else to stink up the place.”

  The shaking intensified. The charms on the table danced with the vibration.

  Omorachi spread her arms wide and shouted. “Demesne, I order you–”

  The shaking stopped.

  Omorachi smiled triumphantly and dropped her arms. “I’m brilliant.”

  Trixis rolled her eyes. “Take the photos. Nessie’s book has all kinds of warnings about keeping the collection apart, but if they’re all as witless as this one, we won’t have to bother.” She frowned. “We’ll have to finesse that in the sales copy or their defects will depress the price.”

  “After we get the pics, let’s go ahead and put the collection all in one place. The hell with Nessie’s warning. Maybe we’ll get a discount when the shifter wranglers get here. Which reminds me.” She held out her arms again. “I, Omorachi, rightful heir to this demesne and castle, hereby order you to let the wranglers in without any faffing about.”

  “Hey! I’m an heir, too!” said Trixis. She raised her arms to match Omorachi’s pose. “I order you to let them in and be nice to them, too.”

  Omorachi glared at Trixis, then turned her attention to her phone. Circling Dauro, she took quite a few flash pictures. “Maybe we should put him in some human clothes so he looks normal.”

  Trixis made a rude noise. “Clothes can’t fix ugly. Nothing would fit over those overgrown shoulders and thighs. Anyway, shifters go naked all the time. Like old Nessie did.”

  Omorachi grinned evilly. “Maybe all her extra magic was because she was a secret shifter.”

  “Ewww—gross!” shrieked Trixis. “No wonder some tribes still kill half-breeds.”

  “Bloody well right.” Omorachi picked up the slender change wand. “If we’re done with him, let’s turn him back for now. Humans are rank.” Her lips and nose wrinkled in disgust. “Besides, the water cat can’t have gone far with that chain.”

  Trixis flipped pages in the book. “Okay, but let’s make the castle statues carry her. Water makes my hair stick out.” Pointing the wand and reading from the book, she rattled off the spell.

  Pain hit hard as the shift magic took hold and remade him again. He barely remembered not to bite down on the pearl in his mouth as his jawbone grew, along with the rest of him.

  After a long minute, he lay on the floor, exhausted and hurting. Silver threads of shifter magic danced in his peripheral vision. Hunger gnawed at his suddenly hollow stomach.

  “Out!” Omorachi waved her hands toward the door. “Don’t make me push your fat arse!”

  He lurched up on four familiar paws and padded clumsily out the huge castle entryway, past the gravel and onto the lawn.

  It was coming up on false dawn. Ordinarily, he didn’t need the demesne’s floating lights to see by, but right now, he’d take all the help he could get. Even his eyelids hurt.

  He plodded toward the river, head drooping, claws dragging in the grass.

  Finally, the willing water embraced him, soothing his aches as it carried him to his riverine den.

  He stashed his new treasure, longing for the dexterity of his human self. They’d need Sunscar in his wraith form to use it, but the pearl was their best chance of getting free. Hopefully, the fairies wouldn’t miss it anytime soon.

  He needed to eat before he passed out.

  Find Sunscar.

  Free the others.

  Escape.

  Oblivion took him instead.

  6

  Chantal’s experience with the fairy demesnes anchored around Kotoyeesinay gave her an idea of what to expect. But she’d never been in an empty one before.

  Okay, not empty, because she was following animated statues that carried piteously bleating capricorns in vice-like grips. And at the edge of the forest, she’d seen a pygmy hippopotamus try to trip the gnome statue and get cruelly kicked for its trouble.

  It was more like the demesne was unclaimed, which she hadn’t thought possible. Demesnes were fantasy lands that sprung from the will and magical strength of the fairy who created them.

  Dawn suddenly lit the landscape like a grow-lamp on a timer. The independent mage lights that floated everywhere dimmed.

  But no time to think about that now, because the hippo was hurting and the statues were marching away fast.

  The demesne energized her magical senses, so she knew the hippo was a male shifter. She didn’t think he was bleeding, but she couldn’t be sure. Her sense of smell had become suddenly unreliable, like she’d been sneezing from a snoot-full of pollen. The moment she’d crossed through the portal, her nose shut down.

  Edging out from behind a tree near where the hippo lay panting, she spoke softly. “Hi, there.”

  Her attempt at not scaring him failed miserably. Scrambling to his feet, he squeaked in fear and threat, backing away from her.

  She stepped farther away from the tree, holding up her hands so he could see she had no weapons. “I’m Chantal, leopard shifter. I know a healing spell or two that can make you feel better.”

  The hippo’s warning huff and show of teeth froze her in place. He could mow her down before she had a chance to shift.

  She sighed. “I hope you understand English or Spanish, or we’re going to be here a while.”

  He nodded slowly, which encouraged her.

  “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just want to find out what happened to the capricorns, Yipkash and Rayapkhal. I found them outside, injured. When the statues opened a portal and took them inside the demesne, I followed.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile. “Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but here I am.”

  The hippo grunted and sat on his haunches.

  She dropped her hands slowly. “If you don’t trust me to heal you, maybe you can shift–”

  The hippo’s head shook vigorously from side to side.

  “Okay then. Can you at least point me in the right direction to find the capricorns? I promised I’d help them.”

  The hippo crouched and whined.

  Like their natural counterparts, shifted animals didn’t have words or facial expressions, but she followed her hunch. “You want me to heal you?”

  At the hippo’s nod, she moved slowly toward him
. “I’ll bet both your sides hurt.”

  Once she got close enough to kneel next to his shoulders, she decided he was probably a juvenile rather than full grown. She’d seen natural pygmy hippos in online videos, and the adults looked fatter and darker. “Is it all right if I touch you?”

  He answered by rolling into her outstretched hand. The contact instantly told her his wet, greenish-black skin hid the big bruise she could feel with her energized magical senses. The bruise on his other side was worse, where the gnome statue’s boot had sent him flying. Young shifters with inexperienced magical immune systems took longer to heal.

  “I’m going to use a stronger spell. It’ll feel like your skin is on fire for about ten seconds, and then like you’re in an ice bath. After that, you’ll want to eat everything in sight.” She patted his shoulder. “Preferably not me.”

  Narrowing her focus to her intent, she spoke the cantrip in her mind. Demesne magic tried to embellish her shifter magic spell, but she gently nudged it aside. The young hippo didn’t need a layer of diamond armor added to his flanks.

  Keeping her hand on him, she made soothing noises as the spell’s hot and cold phases took their course. The bruises cleared up and the cracked rib remade itself, as if he’d shifted. He’d still be sore for a few hours, but at least it wouldn’t be days.

  “Okay, kid, you can get up now. Moving will help you get warm. At least I hope you’re a kid, or I owe you an apology.” Shifter magic threads danced in the air at the edge of her peripheral vision. The demesne’s magic provided more threads to complement the movements. Whoever created the demesne deserved respect for how much free potential it had.

  Rising to her feet carefully, because that spell always made her lightheaded, she wiped her damp hand on her khaki pants, leaving a pinkish smear. At least they were still pants. Some demesnes magically enforced a dress code in keeping with the owner’s preference. Fluttery dresses made of flower petals never had pockets.

  The hippo pushed to his feet and took a couple of bouncing steps that shook his rounded torso.

  The edge of a pink-tinged arc appeared on the horizon to her right. All the mage lights extinguished. The simulated sunrise was better than some she’d seen, but lacked the subtle color variations and clouds of the real world.

  Water sounds caught her attention. At least whatever was wrong with her sense of smell wasn’t affecting her ears. “Am I hearing a river?”

  The hippo nodded. He took a few steps toward it, then turned and tilted his head.

  “Sorry, but I can’t go play with you right now. I need to find the capricorns.”

  The hippo grunted and nodded, then tilted his head again.

  “Oh, you’re taking me to them?” She frowned, looking across the landscape in the direction she’d last seen the statues. She’d been lucky so far. Better to go with the hippo she knew than the demesne she didn’t.

  She had to admit that for once, she was lost. The only thing she knew to do was create a map in her head as she followed the little hippo over the uneven ground. She assigned the direction of the artificial sunrise as east. That put the forest behind her to the north, the river south, and the wide expanse of rock-strewn flat land to the west. Eastward, the flatland rose to rolling green hills with more rocks and a few flowers. Hard to tell how far it went. Demesnes could only simulate the physics of the real world, and most fairies didn’t bother.

  An abrupt downward slope gave her a view of the bluest river she’d ever seen. Easily half a mile wide and flowing westward. Waves and ripples dominated the center. At the shore, the water lapped on sand and rocks. About a hundred yards to her right, a diverted section of the river formed a turquoise lake area around a small island populated with trees. Above the far shore rose an eroded, chalky-white cliff that plunged into green water.

  The hippo took several steps into the shallows. A moment later, he squealed and lunged back on the bank, scrambling toward her.

  From out of the river rose the figure of a naked, tattooed black man, as if formed by the water itself. Sinuously handsome, with strong features, and long, silver dreadlocks flowing down his back like twisting snakes. His glowing red eyes drilled into hers.

  “Who are you?” His deep, rumbling bass vibrated her chest. He radiated fury and vengeance.

  The hippo put himself in front of her, with his butt touching her thigh. He trembled, but stood his ground.

  She narrowed her eyes at the wraith in disapproval. “You’re scaring my friend.”

  Silver eyebrows rose above red eyes. “Young Kelvin is susceptible. But not you?”

  “Nope. One of my mother’s clients is a corporeal wraith like you.” She shrugged. “Runs a diner. I bussed tables during the summer tourist seasons.”

  He blinked several times, looking stunned. Finally, he crossed his arms. “Why are you here?” His English was accented, but she couldn’t place it.

  “Looking for new friends.” She jutted her chin in subtle challenge. “You?”

  His head nodded toward Kelvin. “Looking out for old ones.” After a long moment, his arms dropped and his expression softened. “He tells me you healed him. I am Sunscar. The demesne belongs to… used to belong to a rock fairy named Nessireth. She died two months ago. Her kin arrived two days ago and mean to sell us all for money.”

  It was her turn to blink. “Who is us?”

  “Her collection of exotic aquatic shifters.” Magic pulsed as tattoos on his chest lit up for a moment.

  She raised an eyebrow. “You’re a shifter?”

  Kelvin fairly glowed with shifter magic, but none came from Sunscar.

  “I am an abomination created by a monster who sold me to Nessireth as a novelty. My animal form is a giant eel.” His bleak tone was at odds with the challenging jut of his chin.

  “Created? By the infamous dark elf known as Surasa, by chance?” She shook her head. “Never mind, none of my business and way above my pay grade.” She pointed toward the island and cliffs. “Kelvin is taking me to the capricorns. I promised to help them.”

  Sunscar’s expression softened. “Did they get out to the real world?”

  “Yes, but not for long. I think the statues fetched them back. I slipped in when they opened the portal.” She opened her shirt to show him the top part of the pink crystal. “They dropped this.”

  He glanced, then stared, eyes wide. “You need to talk to everyone.” He pointed westward as he began to sink into the water. “Kelvin, take her to the bridge immediately. I will awaken Dauro and summon all the others.” Just before his head disappeared, he drilled her with a stern look. “Do not shift.”

  After a few seconds of splashy churning, she got a glimpse of a huge, pale eel with a rounded mouth full of teeth and the same wraith-red eyes. He disappeared into the river.

  She stepped around the hippo to look at his face. “Can we trust him?”

  Kelvin hesitated a long moment, then nodded his head slowly, with apparent reluctance.

  “Okay, then.” She frowned. “He’s free with the orders, though. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  Snorting, Kelvin headed westward, along the transition strip between the orderly sparse grasses and the equally orderly river bank.

  Turning, she walked briskly behind the hippo. She would comply with the “don’t shift” order for the time being. Demesnes often had whimsical rules that went beyond dress codes. She didn’t fancy being turned into a miniature stegosaurus or something.

  Kelvin kept turning his head toward her, as if anxious.

  “We can go faster, if you want. But you need to eat soon. That spell ate up your reserves.” Not to mention some of her own. Bad luck that she’d skipped breakfast to hike up the island road.

  He nodded and picked up the pace. She sped up to a slow jog.

  The river was more like a giant, landscaped water feature than a natural occurrence, which made for easy traveling beside its channelized banks. The demesne magic that controlled the water and made it
flow pushed against her senses, sparking her creativity, teasing her to play.

  Pay attention, she told herself. Make magic arts-and-crafts projects later.

  It took forty minutes by her reckoning to come within sight of their destination. Assuming time worked like it did in the real world, which wasn’t always a given.

  Her inner leopard was getting grumpy. Cats preferred to leave long-distance running to wolves. She took a long drink from her charmed canteen, which would replenish itself after a few minutes.

  The river narrowed considerably and became deeper blue in this part, likely due to an increase in depth. A bridge with elaborate decorative carvings spanned this section and looked solid enough to handle elephants.

  The castle beyond had a hodge-podge of architectural elements, from crenelated turrets to many tiny conical roofs. At least a dozen giant-sized statues decorated the front lawn, no two alike. She had to assume the huge evil garden gnome was the same one that had captured the capricorns. Even though Kelvin ignored them, she kept a watchful eye on the statues.

  Moving closer to the bridge felt like approaching a bonfire. The bridge radiated various flavors of layered magic, only about half of which she recognized. Shifter magic intensified, too, telling her other shifters were nearby.

  When Kelvin plunged into the water, she stayed on the sandy bank. She drew the line at swimming fully clothed in water that felt as alive with magic as the bridge.

  Almost immediately, Sunscar rose from the water in the shadow of the bridge.

  “Can you speak mind to mind?” His deep bass voice echoed off the stone.

  “I’m still learning.” Which was to say, she avoided it. Telepathy hadn’t come nearly as easily to her as using her free magic, and she liked her privacy.

  “I can help, if you give me permission.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It is my gift.”