Although Jesse stood frozen between fear and surprise, the other Jesse glanced down, laid a hand on the wolf’s head, and met Jesse’s gaze with a smile utterly and quietly content. His other hand he reached out to lay flat against the glass. Jesse, instinctively, feeling tears in his eyes, laid his own over it.
It wasn’t his new bedroom behind the mirror Jesse, but a hilltop, with a dark lake visible behind it. A place that turned up constantly in Jesse’s dreams, though he had no recollection of ever having been anywhere that looked like that.
“God,” he whispered, and it was a prayer. “Please…”
The wolf whined. Jesse could hear it, not quite audible, like a memory, but very clear. It stirred restlessly, then turned and ran off to one side.
“Can I hear you too?” Jesse whispered. “Can you talk?”
The other shook his head slowly, still with that gentle smile, but the contentment was gone, with the wolf. His eyes were sad again, as he bowed his head, and let his hand fall.
The reflection shivered, like a stone dropped into a pond. When the ripples stilled, it was a perfectly ordinary reflection of him and his new room.
“This,” he told the mirror, “is getting freaky. And part of why it’s freaky is that I’ve been around this weird place so long that a mirror that does what it wants isn’t enough to make me want to run screaming back to the city. Can you show me Shaine? Are you that kind of magic mirror?”
No response.
“Guess not. Should I ask Kevin about this, I wonder? Nah. If he doesn’t know already, then it can be my secret.”
He spent another moment just gazing at his reflection. As oddly natural as it looked… He sighed, switched back to jeans and T-shirt. It simply wasn’t him.
16
“Kev?”
Kevin raised his head from his math homework, knowing it was Jesse hesitating in the doorway even before he looked. “What’s up?”
“Can I ask you something? Without you getting mad at me?”
“If it’s that touchy, I won’t promise to give you an answer, but I can promise not to get mad about you asking it.” He sat up, an invitation for Jesse to come sit on the bed. His desk rarely got used for homework; sprawling on his bed was both more comfortable and easier than trying to clear enough space.
Jesse stepped around the not-yet-unpacked boxes, and perched on the edge of the bed, running a hand over the silky blankets. “It’s about this stuff. It’s not… natural, is it?”
Kevin winced inside, old fears rousing. He ignored them resolutely. “That depends on what you mean by natural,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But if you mean did we buy it somewhere that made it by conventional industrial means, then no, it isn’t.”
“Then what is it?”
“Most people call it magesilk. Because only a mage can make it, and the parallel has been drawn before of a spider spinning silk. Besides, it generally turns out feeling a lot like silk.”
“You made all this.”
“Lori and I did, yes. In a sense, it’s more natural than anything you could buy. Woven out of sunlight or moonlight, purely with a mage’s gifts.”
“Out of light? But light’s not…” He stopped short.
Kevin smiled, despite the effort to keep his voice steady and his body relaxed. “Light’s not supposed to make gates that cover forty minutes’ walk in a few steps, either. That’s what a mage works with, light and fire. Witches like Cynthia and Naomi and Nick, they can do a little with all the elements. Mages can do a lot more, but only with our element.” He got up, and moved to one window-seat. There was plenty of electric light in the room, of course, but sunlight and moonlight were always easiest to work with. “The moon’s bright enough. Come here.”
Jesse came. Absently, Kevin glanced at the lamp by the bed and turned it off, then flipped the switch near the door that controlled the overhead, so the only light was that of the waning moon and stars—not enough to allow him to see, but he didn’t really need to be able to. It was one of the first skills he’d mastered under Tomas, how to catch the light in his hands so it pooled like water, then use hands and will to weave the delicate strands of pale moonlight into a piece of whisper-light magesilk a foot square. Jesse’s fascination tickled against the edges of his mind. Kevin offered it to him.
“See? That’s too flimsy to last long, I didn’t put much effort into it. Or I can make it dark.” He ran a finger over the silk in Jesse’s hands, turned it black. “I could change the shape, or make it heavier, or make the colour anything I choose. Because it’s my will influencing the light. And when it’s not needed anymore…” He passed a hand lightly over the cloth, and it melted back into moonlight.
“It only comes from a mage?”
“As far as I know, yes. Why?” He glanced in the direction of the lamp, and it switched itself back on, followed promptly by the overhead light. Poor night-vision was just part of life for an elf, but he wanted to be able to actually see Jesse’s reactions. Missing subtle body language, important in anyone but especially in a werewolf, could have big bad consequences.
Jesse shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just… I’m sure I’ve seen Shaine sell scarves and stuff that feel the same, when we’re really low on cash. I’ve asked him a couple of times where they came from, but he won’t give me a straight answer.”
“Shaine’s no mage,” Kevin said. “A mage living in the city is more likely than a healer or a witch, but Shaine isn’t one.”
Jesse blinked. “And you know this how?”
Oops…
“Um, well, I gated to the city to chase off something nasty that could sense you’d been in Haven and was attracted to that?”
“Uh-huh. And this happened when?”
“Way back in November.”
“Back in… that freaky night I had, when I just couldn’t lose that guy?”
“Mmhmm. Flynn had a hunch, got a focus, and I gated.” He hated leaving out the part of the wolves in it, but that would lead to longer explanations he wasn’t quite comfortable getting into. “At the time, I didn’t think hanging around to say hi was a good idea.”
“Probably just as well, I was less used to weirdness. Thank you forever, I was getting really scared.”
“That was what it intended. I did get a look at Shaine, and he shows as perfectly ordinary ungifted to mage-sight. Jess… we didn’t think you’d mind the magesilk. Lori and I make things for friends, all the time. That’s one of my favourite parts of being a mage. If I’d thought you’d mind…”
Jesse shook his head, slowly. “That’s not it. I’m just… trying to figure things out.”
“You’re always welcome to ask.”
“I don’t think I know the right questions.”
“Not about everything, true. Some things it’s better to find out in your own time.”
“Would you tell me if I asked you to?”
“I don’t know. I’ll tell you anything you want about mages, but most other things I’d be more likely to send you to one of the others to ask. Like Cynthia for witches, or Flynn for seeing. Just like they’d send you to me if you asked about mage stuff.”
“That makes sense. Why do mages only work with light? What about the other three elements? Is there something like mages for them too?”
Jess had been picking up magic theory, hm? “There is for earth, healers like Gisela. Wind and water, none we know of. As for why we’re limited to fire…” He hesitated. Should he tell Jesse that not all of Haven was human? Even if he told of only one of three? Or should he let it slide? “Mages aren’t human, exactly.”
Jesse gave him a wary look, but didn’t react in any of the myriad panicky ways he could have. “Not human?”
“Someday I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut.” It felt like walking a knife-edge, one where he didn’t know what lay on either side. “‘Human’ is a rather tricky word to define, but we aren’t, quite. Or maybe it would be better to think of us as a human subspecies. Although most of the sto
ries about us are, uh, highly exaggerated.” Pure nonsense. “The name we use, currently, is elves. Any elf can do a few things. There aren’t many mages, although it does tend to run in my dad’s family. Elves have a natural affinity for fire and light, although a few other things, like telekinesis and telepathy, tend to go with it to varying degrees. And a high metabolism, that’s why I eat so much. Mages are even worse than other elves for that. Elves also have no night-sight to speak of, but we can see heat patterns—infrared, basically. And mages have something called mage-sight that lets us see anything that’s living or magical.”
“Elves.”
“Well… like I said, the stories are warped seriously. Elves are always light-skinned and blonde and usually average height or above, and there’s no such thing as an overweight elf—unhealthily skinny elves, yes. You going to try to tell me you didn’t even notice how Lori and I and most of the other tall blondes you might’ve seen in Haven look?”
It took all his self-control to be still and wait for Jesse’s reaction. He was so deathly afraid of being mistrusted and feared, he’d had enough of that for a lifetime. Even if he’d brought it on himself.
And if Jesse stopped trusting him?
That he couldn’t do anything about except hope.
Jesse sighed, expression one of resignation. “I should’ve expected something weird like this, after what I’ve seen. I’ve definitely been hanging around here too long. The urge to do something drastic and hysterical isn’t even very strong.”
Something inside released. Truth rang below the words, and Kevin could pick up nothing on the surface suggesting deception. Jesse really saw nothing to fear.
Kevin had to fight a sudden urge to hug him. “That’s good. My coven would be less than impressed with me if you did that.”
“Weren’t supposed to tell?”
“Not exactly, it’s only… it’s a risk, on our part. Most of what keeps Haven safe is that we make sure we aren’t noticed.”
Jesse snorted derisively. “Not much risk. Who’d believe me? I’m not exactly a reliable source. Elves and witches and healers… yeah, right, like anyone would listen to me. So. Are healers exactly human? Or is there something for earth?”
“We call them dryads. The stories about them are just as messed up. However, if you want to know more about dryads, you can go find Deanna or Gisela and ask.” He just hoped neither would be mad that he’d told. Although given Gisela’s oft-repeated opinion that they should just tell Jess all about Haven, she at least would probably be delighted. “Dryads are a bit harder to spot, but think in terms of shades of brown, usually darker rather than lighter, and about two-thirds of them are female. There are human healers, though, and not all dryads are healers. And like I said, water and air, there’s nothing we know of. Witches are human and work with all four elements, although they usually have tendencies towards one. Elves and dryads can both interbreed with humans, but not with each other, which is part of why no one’s figured out precise definitions yet.”
“Elves and dryads and witches… lord, what a place. Anyway. You have homework to do. Thank you for the honest answer, I’m going to go rethink my view of the world. Again.”
“All right. We didn’t know what to get, by way of music, you’re welcome to borrow anything of mine you want.”
“What, Flynn’s cards couldn’t tell him? Maybe later. Good luck with the homework.”
“I need it.”
Jess departed, but he left Kevin feeling like a hypocrite. Lying by omission, not telling him about wolves, was still lying. The three covens and their friends had discussed it, and decided Jesse deserved answers when he started really asking questions, but disagreement remained about how far to go and what to let him discover himself.
It will be so nice when all this is over, he thought wistfully. When Jess knows what he is, and there are no more secrets. I really don’t like secrets. Maybe soon.
17
The phone rang; Jesse abandoned his painting, and raced downstairs to get it.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Jess.”
Gisela’s voice. “Hi. Nobody else is around, if you’re looking for someone in particular.”
“I’m looking for you in particular. Busy?”
“Just painting Kev’s and my bathroom. I can leave it if something’s up.”
“Will you do something for me?”
“Sure.”
“Come meet me in the village? I’ll wait for you in front of the library, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there shortly. Just let me get cleaned up, I’m all paint. Everything okay?”
“Just… I need you to come. Please? I’ll explain when you get here. Don’t kill yourself getting here, you better take a shower if you’re that much of a mess, but don’t take all night.”
“No problem.”
“See you in a little while, then. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Puzzled, he had a quick shower, getting rid of as much of the pale-blue paint as he could—he’d never claimed to be neat about painting—and changed into his own clothes instead of the older jeans and T-shirt Flynn had given him for messy work. He left the house and headed for the village proper at a fairly rapid walk, clean, if perplexed.
Gisela was perched on the wooden bench in the middle of the library’s grassy yard, waiting impatiently.
“It’s about time. Come on, I’m thirsty, I want to go get a drink.”
“Why did I have to come down here right now?”
“Oh, relax. I’ll tell you in a minute.” She got up, and started down the sidewalk. He fell into step behind her, around the corner, and to the end of that block.
“There’s a cool place called the Brewery,” Gisela said. “Kevin told me it’s a bad pun on witches’ brews, but I don’t know if he was teasing me or not. That might actually be it, ‘cause the owner is related to Kev and Lori and he was Kevin’s teacher in magic. There’s no sign, that way no tourists wandering through can find it.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“Because you aren’t an outsider any more. And you won’t tell anybody else. You can see it from here, any guesses?”
Jess considered the street. There was a post office, and a garage, and a store with a sign that said Venus Alive, and a hairdresser, and otherwise only a few huge old-looking houses, most with impressive yards, some with small signs visible suggesting that they were now at least partly businesses rather than homes.
“No idea.”
Gisela bounced up onto the porch of the house at the corner, the one with the privacy fence around the back yard. “This one.” The porch was large, spanned both outer faces, and all along the top were carved fantastic animals: dragons, strange-looking birds, hybrids, something he seemed to recall was a gryphon. Just over the door was a carved cauldron with a bird with a long trailing tail flying out of it. A bench was built along the wall, the arms and legs and the ridge along the back similarly adorned. The steps up at the corner led to double doors. Beyond them was a second set of doors.
Within lay a wild cross between modern and medieval. The floor was hardwood, wooden beams and pillars supported the ceiling, the tables and chairs were all made of genuine heavy wood. The room was L-shaped, with a bar along one of the walls diagonal from them, patio doors on the other showing only the last traces of snow at the moment. Winter in Haven was milder than he’d expected so far north; he could only assume some kind of supernatural influence. Although Cynthia would probably say that everything a witch did was within nature.
“Come on,” Gisela insisted when he paused to scan the room warily. She caught his hand, and led him to the back part of the L-shaped room.
“Well, hello there,” a familiar voice said teasingly from one of the larger tables. Kevin waved to the two empty seats between him and Flynn, the only ones vacant at the crowded table. “Do join us.”
“I’m getting the distinct feeling this is a set-up,” Jesse said, but took the seat beside Kevin wh
en Gisela took the other.
Deanna laughed. “Y’see, you weren’t here for your birthday, which we found out was exactly two weeks ago, so we decided to celebrate it today.”
“Better late than never,” Gisela said. “How old did you turn?”
“Uh… eighteen. I didn’t even remember my damned birthday!”
“Well, we did for you,” Flynn said. “Happy birthday belatedly.”
“Gotcha,” Gisela said gleefully. “And you thought I was in trouble.”
“So, let’s party,” Cynthia said. “Money’s no problem.”
Nick came over to deliver menus.
“Finally got you here, huh? Want me to get drinks right away?”
Quick decisions, and he left to get them while they spent more time on choosing food. Most of the appetizers on the menu, to be shared between them, before the range of entrées.
After supper, they went for a lengthy walk in the cool spring night, and stopped to rent a couple of movies. There were presents, when they got back to the house.
His mind offered up images of Christmas mornings and birthdays, of expensive presents that for the most part he didn’t want and yet was expected to be grateful for. He winced away from the memories. He’d be just as happy to forget holidays altogether.
Except here he was sitting in a circle with six people who each had a present for him, and he had no doubts at all that this was utterly different.
Flynn’s was a single silver earring, he said to replace the old silver crescent stud through Jesse’s left ear; the new one was a crescent moon on a short chain. There was a necklace to match, the same crescent on a silver chain. He switched immediately, and clasped the necklace into place. Moon symbolism had always appealed to him, maybe because of his natural tendency to be nocturnal, and these were simple but just right.
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