by K. M. Shea
Properly distracted, I followed Frey through the door while waving goodbye to Tiny. “Wait, I’m riding Westfall today?” I asked, looking down at my American Eagle jeans. I wasn’t exactly in riding clothes.
“I thought you were?” Frey frowned as we popped into the central chamber of the MBRC. “Look, Dave and I have to get to class. Go to Dr. Creamintin’s. He’ll be able to straighten everything out. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” I agreed, watching the magical inhabitants of the MBRC stroll, fly, and glide by.
Man, I had missed this place.
“Goodbye, Morgan,” Dave called as Frey yanked him away.
I stood with a sappy smile and watched a pegasus prance past me before I snapped out of it. “Right, Dr. Creamintin,” I said, blinking at a girl that walked past me, carrying a goose and a golden egg.
I entered the bustling flow and headed for Dr. Creamintin’s office when I saw a familiar face.
It was Devin.
A black duffle bag was thrown across his shoulder, and he walked with a confident saunter, speaking to two men in black who scurried after him like cockroaches and scribbled notes down in little notebooks. The suits looked almost human, but what really caught my attention was the fact that Devin did not have a female entourage (unusual), nor was he eyeing up any of the girls in the vicinity (a downright rarity!).
I changed directions and headed for the mischievous Pooka, intending to chew him out for contracting me out to people like I was a minion.
When I popped up in his sight, I spoke, “Devin!”
He didn’t pause. He looked straight through me and kept talking. “So, contact Benson and tell him he can shove it. I’m not budging an inch on the seven-league boots issue,” Devin said as he blew past me.
“Devin!” I repeated in a louder, angrier tone.
The little rat didn’t respond; he didn’t even look over his shoulder.
“Um, sir, the girl?” one of his followers said, glancing back at me.
“She is unimportant,” Devin told the suit. He didn’t even meet my gaze; he acted as if I were a ghost. It was like I didn’t exist.
All the anger fizzled out of me, and I was left with something that felt suspiciously like hurt.
Devin kept talking as he and the suits disappeared in with the crowd, his voice dropping out of my hearing. “And tell Ruseo to have my rooms ready when I arrive. The council is meeting tonight; I won’t have time to drop by before…”
I stared in the direction Devin had sauntered, even after he was long gone. His personality had obviously undergone a complete transformation overnight. I mean, something had to have happened.
Devin hugged me so happily yesterday. Why the sudden change?
“Devin is such a jerk!” I fumed to Westfall as I stood next to him.
“You’ve mentioned that once or twice,” Westfall said with a nod, jingling his bridle.
I managed to contain my irritation by the time Dr. Creamintin took me to the MBRC riding arena, where I would be the first human to ride Westfall. Speaking of the doctor, he was standing back with the rest of Westfall’s teachers, watching us from the far side of the sandy ring.
I kicked sand, getting dust on my borrowed boots before my ill-fitting helmet slid on my head and hit the ridge of my nose.
“…Are you ready to get on?” Westfall ventured after observing my temper tantrum.
I was trying to delay the inevitable. “Westfall, are you sure about this?” I asked as the bay unicorn walked away from me and towards the mounting block, the saddle stirrups swinging against his belly.
“Sure about what?” he asked, carefully lining up next to the mini step ladder.
“About being ridden. I thought no one was supposed to ride a unicorn,” I said as I trudged after him, eyeing the English saddle that was perched on his back. (I wished it had a horn.)
The idea of riding a unicorn felt about ten times more awkward than leading werewolf Frey on a leash. And that’s saying something.
“Oh, that’s only the prissy British ones,” Westfall said, shaking his head.
“Are you sure? This feels pretty sacrilegious,” I said, glancing at his teachers. They were lined up, whispering amongst themselves as they watched us.
“There’s no rule that unicorns can’t be ridden. We just don’t usually choose to be mounts,” Westfall said, widening his nostrils before blinking his warm eyes at me.
I pushed the helmet up so I could gaze suspiciously at the bay-colored unicorn. “Then is it because I’m still a…you know. Is that why I can ride you?” I asked, squirming uncomfortably.
“Because you’re a what?” Westfall patiently asked.
“You know, because I haven’t really dated much, and I’m still a vir—,” I paused, Westfall still looked completely lost. “You know, if you don’t know what I’m talking about, then we’re not even going to go there,” I said, looking down at the stepping stool.
“We haven’t all day, Miss Morgan!” one of Westfall’s teachers obnoxiously called from the far end of the ring.
I scowled at them before my helmet slid forward again.
“It’s okay, Morgan. You can trust me,” Westfall said, getting my attention. “I won’t let you fall. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said with a stubbornness I didn’t know he possessed.
I blew hair out of my face. “Alright, Westfall,” I said, climbing the mounting block. “How do I get on?”
“Grip my mane with your left hand and the saddle with your right hand. Put your left foot in the stirrup, push off the mounting block, and swing your right leg over my back,” Westfall calmly instructed.
“Right,” I grimly said, following his orders. I paused before pushing off. “…Are you sure—,”
“I’m positive, Morgan.”
“Okay,” I said before swinging my leg up and over, throwing myself in a jumble on top of the saddle.
Westfall, to his credit, didn’t wince, even when I launched myself onto his neck.
“Oh, my gosh. You are so much taller than I thought,” I said into Westfall’s mane.
“You can sit up, Morgan. I won’t move until you’re comfortable,” Westfall kindly said.
It took me a few seconds before I sat up, squeezing the daylights out of Westfall’s gut with my knees while I tangled my hands into his mane.
“Is your right foot in the stirrup? Good. Now take up the reins,” Westfall started.
“No,” I stubbornly said.
“Morgan, I’m not going to bolt. You can remove your hands from my hair,” the bay said, sounding a little hurt.
“It’s not that,” I quickly amended. “I know I can trust you. It’s me and my balance that I don’t trust. Besides, that’s not the point. What I mean is that I’ll ride you and break pretty much every fairy tale rule I know, but there’s no way I’m going to direct you with those rein things. Not a flippin’ chance.”
Halfway down the arena, Dr. Creamintin laughed.
“This isn’t funny!” I shouted.
“I’m going to start walking, Morgan,” Westfall announced.
“Okay,” I said, holding my breath for the first few steps the skinny unicorn took. Westfall’s stride was a tippy, rocking motion. I’m sure for people who like to ride, it would have been very comfortable, but I was pretty certain I was going to fall straight off his side.
Dr. Creamintin was still laughing by the time we reached the far end of the arena. Westfall’s other instructors were in various stages of trying not to laugh.
“You’re doing quite well, Westfall,” said a giant guy—I suspect he’s part ogre—who was pointedly staring at Westfall and ignoring me.
Dr. Creamintin, however, was not so kind. “You look like a white asparagus, Morgan,” he belly laughed.
“You!” I hissed as Westfall sedately walked past.
“What, aren’t you fulfilling a childhood dream?” Dr. Creamintin grinned.
I considered his words as Westfall made another circ
uit around the arena. When we reached the far end, another one of Westfall’s instructors spoke. “Westfall, do you think you’re ready to trot with the human?”
“What’s a trot?” I asked, finally gaining enough confidence to untangle my left hand from Westfall’s mane so I could scratch an itch on my side.
“Oh, it’s like a jog,” Dr. Creamintin said with a sagely nod.
“You mean we have to go faster!?” I wailed.
This time, all of the instructors laughed.
“I’m sorry that, as the first person to ride you, I was such an uncoordinated dope, Westfall,” I apologized, patting the saddle-free unicorn.
“Don’t be,” Westfall said with a horsey smile. “Most children I aid won’t be used to riding. Besides, you helped me get over my fear of humans. Perhaps I could help you become a better rider?” Westfall shyly suggested.
He was just too cute!
“That would be nice,” I said, hobbling along. “But please, not for a while? My legs are killing me.”
“It’s a deal,” Westfall said, bobbing his head. “I have to go back to my teachers, but thank you, Morgan.”
“No, thank you, Westfall,” I smiled, waving good bye as the petite equine returned to his teachers in the riding arena.
“Don’t you get a sense of satisfaction from that? I knew you would be a good fit for your new employer,” Dr. Creamintin said, folding his arms as he stood next to me.
“About that. Please explain. Frey said something about Devin auctioning me off,” I said, my eyes turning into slits.
“Oh, dear,” Dr. Creamintin sighed. “All right. In order to receive permission from MBRC management to reverse your hypnosis, Devin had to pull a few strings,” Dr Creamintin said as we left the arena.
“He has that kind of power?” I asked with disbelief before plopping down on a stool to switch to my school shoes. “Am I really that big of a deal?”
“The MBRC has a tight lid on those who know about us,” Dr. Creamintin nodded. “It’s virtually unheard of that a regular human, much less a teenage girl without any connections to magic would be allowed to know of us. Devin had to go pretty high up to get the clearance needed to reinstate you. He also had to make a few promises, one of them involves you.”
“Oh?” I asked, feeling a little more reasonable. I mean, if Devin did it for my sake…
“Yes. It was requested that you would become a private tutor for a certain MBRC member,” Dr. Creamintin said as I stood. “You will work at the MBRC, but you won’t be employed by it. You are a private consultant. That’s a very rare position, you know,” he insisted.
“So, who am I tutoring? And what can I possibly teach them?” I asked.
Dr. Creamintin laughed. “Ahahah, that’s where it gets a little complicated. Your pupil is a nice lad named Asahi.”
“What is he? A werewolf?”
“No. A High Elf.”
I couldn’t have been more shocked if Dr. Creamintin told me I was going to be schooling the MBRC Administrator himself. High Elves are like the celebrities of elves. Even with my limited exposure to magical culture, I knew they were something special. (After all, wasn’t the MBRC Administrator a High Elf?)
Much of what Dr. Creamintin told me after that didn’t sink in. So, he wrote down the room I would need to report to the following day and sent me home. I spent most of the evening as a mindless lump in front of the TV before completing my homework.
For the greater part of Wednesday, I formulated ideas of what my pupil would look like. I pictured Legolas, the stereotypical elf, before musing on all of the magical beings I had met on the MBRC. There was Dave the fat vampire, Frey the skinny/not muscled werewolf, and Westfall the delicate, bay-colored unicorn.
“He’s probably going to be butt ugly and really short,” I said, propping my head on my chin.
“Who?” Fran asked after drinking her milk.
“No one,” I said, shaking myself out of my reverie.
“So, now that you’re talking to Frey again, are you over Brett Patterson?” Fran asked with a coy grin.
“Psh, never,” I snorted.
“Personally, I find myself pining after the mysterious and hot Garden Guy. I wonder what happened to him,” Fran sighed.
I wisely kept my mouth shut and concentrated on my burger.
Frey and Dave escorted me to the MBRC, leaving me by the information desk. “Orion or Corona will be able to direct you to the right room. Just show them the note Dr. Creamintin gave you,” Frey said, somewhat distracted by Dave, who was staring at a cartload of blood packages. “Dave. Dave, stop looking. If you’re that hungry, drink some tomato juice. DAVE! You’re drooling! Man up!”
I smiled and waved goodbye to the frazzled werewolf and salivating vampire before skipping off to the information desk.
I was about halfway there when Corona looked up and saw me, a smile breaking across her reptilian features. “Morgan!”
“Corona, how are you?” I grinned before Doggy popped out from behind the desk and launched himself at me. He hit my chest like a ton of bricks. “And Doggy! How are you, boy?” I cooed, cradling the little dragon.
Doggy offered me a biscuit which he clutched in the talons of his back left foot.
“Why thank you, how kind. But why don’t you eat it?” I suggested.
Doggy insistently passed the cookie from his back foot to his front paw and offered it up as I held him like a baby. I tickled his tummy to distract him. (I wasn’t sure what was in those dragon treats, and I wasn’t that gung-ho on finding out.)
“So, you have returned to us,” Orion said, swishing his horse tail.
“You work with me again 1 2 3 we answer questions?” Toby asked, talking as fast as ever.
“No, I actually have a new assignment,” I said as Doggy snuggled into my arms. “I’m hoping you guys can tell me how to get to the room I’m supposed to go to.”
“You not here to help?” Toby asked, pushing his bushy eyebrows up before he took a sip of coffee.
“No, sorry.”
The hobgoblin grunted and answered a ringing telephone.
“Don’t let him get you down,” Corona whispered. “He was devastated last week when you were gone. His average to answer a question was 84 seconds.”
I blinked at the hobgoblin, who chattered away on the phone while his long fingers tapped out words on the keyboard.
“Morgan, which room do you seek?” Orion asked.
“Oh,” I said, digging Dr. Creamintin’s note out of my jacket pocket. “Here. Dr. Creamintin gave my room assignment to me yesterday, but I was a little out of it,” I blushed as I shifted Doggy so he was perched against my left hip, getting biscuit crumbs on my shirt as he ate.
Corona and Orion peered across the counter to look at my note. Corona let out what I think was supposed to be an impressed hiss, and Orion’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead.
“You’re Asahi’s private tutor?” Corona asked, sounding awed.
“Is he a High Elf?” I asked, scratching Doggy beneath his chin while I looked for the lewd little male fairy that usually scampered around the desk. “Hey, where’s that tiny pervert fairy?” I added.
“Gristles is gone on break. You’re teaching Asahi?” Corona repeated.
“Um, I dunno. I’m teaching a High Elf,” I said, brushing Doggy’s crumbs off me.
“Truly, the stars have aligned if a human is tutoring a High Elf,” Orion said with the appropriate amount of mystery afforded to centaurs.
“Look, who is this guy?” I asked.
“Asahi is, as you said, a High Elf. You’ll be able to recognize him on sight,” Corona nodded.
“How?”
“Asahi is Japanese for morning sun. His mother rather appropriately named him because, frankly, he’s pretty…golden,” Corona said.
“Asahi is the light that shines in the morning,” Orion added. This information wasn’t new; he was just being a centaur I guess.
“So I’m looking for s
omeone gold?” I said as I pressed my lips together.
“You’ll be able to tell it’s him. I promise,” Corona assured me as Orion moved away to help another MBRC member. “But finding the room you will be using might be a little difficult. It’s on the indigo wing, which means it’s the third floor. See that indigo-colored band up there?” Corona asked, pointing to the third level of the room.
“Uh-huh,” I said, squinting to see better.
“Okay, then it’s down kitsune hallway. That will be pretty easy to spot, just go up the stairs to the third level and take a right. Keep walking around the perimeter of the main chamber until you see a hallway that branches off and is decorated in foxes. It will have a Japanese feeling to it. If you get to the banshee hallway—you’ll hear that one a mile away before you see it—you’ve gone too far,” Corona continued. “Follow the kitsune hallway until it intersects with the Chinese dragon hallway. That’s a pretty obvious hallway too. When you reach the intersection, take a left. It will be the fourth room on the right. The door will have a large, red dragon painted on it.”
I was pretty sure I didn’t stand a chance of finding the room. “Okay,” I said, my eyebrows furrowing.
Corona took notice and stood up straight. “Why don’t you take Doggy with you? He knows the MBRC like one of his claws. He’ll get you there.”
“Will he be able to find his way back here?” I asked.
“Of course. He knows he’ll get the leash if he doesn’t,” Corona said, waving a webbed paw in the air.
“…The leash?” I asked.
“Look at the time! Honey, you got to get going! Asahi won’t mind waiting on you, but if Aysel finds out, he’ll chew you out for sure. Good luck!” Corona said before her attention was claimed by a hovering fairy.
I dubiously looked down at Doggy, who had long ago finished his cookie and was now mostly occupied with chewing the shoulder strap of my backpack.
This little guy was supposed to help me through the maze and get me to my room? I would be lucky if I didn’t accidentally wander into a man-eating unicorn section.
“So, Doggy, Corona says we’re going to the red Chinese dragon room. Can you get us there?” I asked, carefully picking my way through the magical crowd.
