Shifters And Glyphs Read online

  I’m having the time of my life.

  In response to my attack, the pixies come up with a new plan.

  They go after me instead.

  Crap.

  A heartbeat later, my fur is covered in tiny green pixies as they chomp into my skin, poke my eyes, and generally hurt me all over. This isn’t working. I picture the Colonel’s last spell—the magic net worked perfectly until it fell apart. Now, great sheets of enchanted fabric rest on the kitchen floor.

  That just might be something I can work with.

  Sure, I have no idea how to start a fairy spell from scratch—that’s what school is for—but this particular spell has already been started. All I need to do is finish it. Plus, it’s magic that was partly formed from my own energy.

  I can fix it.

  Absolutely.

  Possibly.

  Actually, I have no idea what my powers can do, but I’m getting chomped on by hundreds of little pixies, and those green monsters want to go after my best friend. I’m giving this all I’ve got.

  In my heart, I call out to the strands of magic.

  Reform the spell. Send the pixies back to the Faerie Lands.

  Nothing happens, except I keep scraping pixies off my fur, only to have them reattach a second later. Dang, these things are persistent.

  Time to try another tactic. I call out to the magic inside me once more.

  We have to do this. For Elle. These pixies want to hurt her.

  For whatever reason, using Elle’s name when I call upon my fairy magic gets a big response—and fast. Instantly, a thick cloud of silver fairy dust appears around my fur. The pixies biting into me? They cough and sputter under the new haze. After that, the little green creeps fall to the floor, gasping for breath.

  Once my fur is cleared off, the silver mist leaves my body, turning into a compact orb of fae power. That fairy energy speeds to the broken sheets of netting that lie in a neat pile on the kitchen floor. The ball of magic slams into the broken sheets, sending a great pouf of silver rising up from the floor tile. A second later, all the useless scraps reweave together, forming the mother of all butterfly nets.

  Perfect.

  Calling to my soul, I give another order to the fairy magic.

  Round them up. Send them back.

  The magic net moves with lightning speed, scooping up pixies. The tiny creatures howl and bite, but it’s no use. Soon the entire kitchen is pixie-free. Next, the net slams straight through the doors under the kitchen sink, shattering the wood into a hundred little pieces. There’s a flash of silver light as the net-o-pixies vanishes as well. Now, that’s what I call good magic.

  I prance across the ruined kitchen floor, feeling mighty pleased with my wolfly self.

  The Colonel straightens his wide-brimmed hat. The rest of him needs a lot more work to be back to normal, though. Scratches still mar the Colonel’s face. Plus, his suit is all raggedy with tiny bite marks and blood. I scan my fur. I’ve got my own share of marks, but I’m too happy to care.

  “That’s my first time casting a fairy spell while in my wolf form.” It’s always a little tougher to talk in my wolf form, what with my extra teeth and all.

  “Well done,” says the Colonel.

  My chest swells with pride, and I celebrate by mincing about in another circle. “Thank you.”

  “Since you did the hard work with the pixies, how about I clean up?” The Colonel doesn’t wait for my reply. Lifting his arms, he summons a fresh cloud of fairy dust around his palms. Twiddling his fingers, he issues a new command: “Make this better.”

  In response, the fairy dust zooms from the Colonel’s hands and fills the room. For a moment, it’s as if there’s silver snowfall in my kitchen. The Colonel claps, and the fairy snow disappears. The cleaning-up spell is over, and it certainly worked. My kitchen looks good as new. There are no broken glasses or shattered cabinets to be seen.

  The Colonel has returned to his normal state; his white suit is pristine again. I can’t see my fur, but I certainly feel healed. I’m guessing whatever marks the pixies left on me have disappeared, too.

  My inner wolf lets out a loud yawn. “I’m ready for a nap,” she says.

  “That’s fine,” I silently reply. “You’ve earned it.”

  Focusing on my shifter power, I will myself to return to human shape. This time, the change takes a little longer. Turns out, there’s nothing like homicidal pixies to inspire you to change forms, fast. The magic hears my call. My bones realign. Claws and fangs disappear. Flesh replaces fur. Overall, the experience doesn’t hurt so much as tickle. Soon, I’m back to my regular human shape, including my black pants, heavy boots, and cropped T.

  Love the unshreddable outfit.

  The Colonel eyes me from head to toe. “I can see why you like that fairy getup. Unshreddable. I’ll have to get me a suit like that.” He shakes his head. “Nothing worse than shifting into a dragon, changing back, and having all your private business out there for the world to see.”

  “Yes,” I say. “That’s exactly how I felt.” Most shifters are super comfortable with nudity. I’m glad that the Colonel and I are both firm members of Camp Clothing.

  “Where did you get that outfit, anyway?” asks the Colonel.

  “Queen Nyxa. She runs a secret store for fairies in Manhattan.”

  “Nyxa, huh?” The Colonel settles himself back onto a stool by our high top. “I’ll have to pay her a visit. That one owes me a favor or two.”

  “She does?” There’s no mistaking the shock in my voice.

  “Everybody owes me something, sugar. That’s why I’m me.” The Colonel tears into an unopened box of food and smacks his lips. “Now, do you mind if I feast on this here cashew chicken?”

  “Help yourself.”

  Using his chopsticks, the Colonel points to the open space across from him at the table. “Why don’t you come set a spell with me? We need to talk.” The set a spell thing is Colonel Mallory talk for please sit down.

  Now, it may be that I just fought off hundreds of evil pixies in my own kitchen, but the way the Colonel says those words—we need to talk—it makes me feel like I’m heading into battle again.

  I slide onto the stool across from the Colonel and wait. My appetite is still firmly at zero. No matter. Whatever is coming up, I have a feeling it’s not dinner conversation anyway.

  Chapter 5

  For a long minute, I sit quietly at the table and try to soak in everything that happened. The Colonel and I just forced hundreds of pixies out of my kitchen and back to Faerie. Now, he’s sitting at my table and enjoying his meal of cashew chicken.

  Well, okay then.

  Plus, we’re about to have a talk. Let’s not forget about that.

  The last time we had one of our talks, the Colonel told me I was a rare kind of Magicorum called a Trilorum, meaning that I could wield all three types of magic. So I asked why I’d never heard of a Trilorum before. The Colonel informed me that all the other Trilorum had been killed long ago. Surprisingly, they weren’t murdered by Jules, the egomaniac who wanted my brains for dinner. Nope, all the other Trilorum had been killed by enterprising—yet incredibly evil—witches and warlocks. It seems that, combined with a spell or two, dried-out Trilorum livers fix any ailment.

  Eew.

  Needless to say, that was an un-fun conversation.

  I eye the exit archway to the living room. Maybe there’s some way to get out of this chat before I learn something else that’s both disturbing and disgusting.

  The Colonel dabs the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief. “You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day.”

  “Queen Nyxa?”

  “No, not that old hag in a ball gown. Reggie.”

  On reflex, I pull on my ear. I must be mishearing things. “Reggie?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You mean, Reggie the guy who was alive with Julius Caesar, got made into an evil Denarii mummy-zombie, was captured by Knox, lived in Alec
’s basement, and just escaped over the summer? The last Denarii alive? That Reggie?”

  “That’s the one. He sends his regards.”

  My skin prickles over with shock. “Reggie is crazy.”

  “As a bedbug. But he’s very concerned about the fountain of magic.”

  I tilt my head, considering. “That’s rather sane of him.”

  “Folks like you and me, we aren’t alive solely because of magic. But Reggie? His every breath is thanks to magical energy. He’s rather concerned that it stay safe and active.”

  “Why? Is something threatening the fountain of magic?”

  “That’s what I’m here to find out.”

  I frown. “Last time you visited, you were heading off to the Faerie Lands. I thought you were staying there for a while.”

  “That’s true, sugar. I got a little detoured from Faerie, but don’t you worry. The fae are still expecting me. Seems I’m the only one who can stop the fae from going to war.”

  “War?”

  “Is there an echo in here?” The Colonel winks. Somehow, the guy manages to be smooth, sarcastic, and hospitable, all at the same time. “Why, yes. War. But after I talked to sweet Reggie, I decided to put the prevention of massive bloodshed on hold and stop by here to see you.” He points at me with his chopsticks. “And at great time and expense, I might add.”

  “Thank you.” I think.

  “Reggie told me you recently came by some papyri that concerned the equinox and First Wardens.”

  “That’s true. In fact, I was just looking at those sheets. They say the equinox is important. This year’s autumn equinox is in five days.”

  The Colonel’s silver gaze turns intense. “And?”

  “According to the papyri, the fountain of magic is supposed to give its bounty next week, right on the equinox.” Saying those words makes my insides quiver. Knox is in pain because that equinox is getting closer. Shaking my head, I refocus on the conversation with the Colonel. “That will be the first time the fountain has gone off in five thousand years.”

  “Quite right.” The Colonel sets aside his box of chicken. “Have you been getting any bad dreams, sugar?”

  I stare at my hands. Talking about my nightmares feels way too personal for a chat with the Colonel. “I’ve always had dreams of Ancient Egypt and papyri. Knox was usually in them, too.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking nightmares.” The Colonel leans forward. “You have been having them, haven’t you?”

  There’s no point lying to the Colonel. He can always tell when I try. “How did you know?”

  “Tell me about them.” The Colonel sets his palms flat on the tabletop. Every line of his body tells me the way I answer this question is critical. Adrenaline pumps through my bloodstream. I hate feeling like there’s something going on that I don’t understand … and that can make my life hell.

  Unfortunately, that feeling happens a lot when the Colonel is around.

  I steel my shoulders. “When it comes to my dreams,” I say slowly, “I don’t remember a thing about them.”

  The Colonel settles back onto his seat. “That’s very good.” Whatever answer the old fae was looking for, it seems I gave the right one. “Very good indeed.”

  “No, it’s pretty frightening. I hate waking up terrified without knowing why.”

  “And I believe you.” The Colonel picks up his chopsticks once more, then circles them by his ear in the motion for I’m nuts. “Don’t pay me no mind. You know how we fae are.”

  “I do.” And fae are tricky. I drum my fingers on the tabletop. The Colonel is hiding something; I know it. My mind sifts through everything he said tonight until I hit on one particular item. “You mentioned something about First Wardens earlier. What did you mean? I’ve never heard of them.”

  “First Wardens?” The Colonel stuffs an enormous amount of cashew chicken in his mouth, then motions across his lips with his chopsticks. It’s a signal that means I can’t talk now.

  He’s stalling.

  It won’t work.

  I fold my arms over my chest. “I can wait.”

  The Colonel finally swallows his mega-bite of chicken and coughs. “Can you get me a glass of water, honey?”

  “If I get it for you, will you answer my question?”

  The Colonel smacks his lips. “You’ll never let this drop, will you? Always so willful.”

  “Always so willful? I’ve had less than ten conversations with you my entire life. How do you know what I am?”

  “Ten conversations. Is that so?” The Colonel chuckles. “Oh, I know plenty about you. Now, get me that water, and I’ll tell you all about the First Wardens.”

  I stomp over to the sink, fill a glass, and head back over. The stomping part is a little childish, but I’m seventeen. I’m allowed.

  “So.” I set the glass down before him. “The First Wardens.”

  The Colonel takes a long sip. “Well, when magic first came into the world, it was a doggone mess. Shifter, fae, and witch power—they all got mixed up. No one knew how to do anything.”

  “So they were all Trilorum?”

  “Yes and no. The magic inside you is still in three separate groups, as it were. Back then, magic was worse than that junk drawer where you and Elle keep stuffing all them wires into.”

  I lift my chin. “We’re hackers. You never know when something will come in handy.” I slide back onto my chair. “But I get what you mean. Magic was a total mess.”

  “Just so. And it stayed that way until the First Wardens. They built the first tools to separate out magic. That was pyramids, you know.”

  “You mean the ones in Egypt?”

  “No, South America.” The Colonel waves his hand dismissively. “Sadly, those ancient pyramids are long gone, so don’t bother looking for them on a map.” He goes back to eating his dinner. I give the Colonel all of two bites before I prompt him to start up again.

  “So,” I say. “The First Wardens used the pyramids to focus magic into shifter, fae, and warlock. Then what happened?”

  “For thousands of years, it all worked out fine. Then everything changed. We don’t know why, but the First Wardens decided they needed to destroy magic.”

  “Destroy magic? How is that possible?”

  “Well, it wasn’t possible, as it turns out. Their plan backfired. The First Wardens only ended up blowing up the fountain and the pyramids as well.”

  “That’s terrible.” Closing my eyes, I try to picture any reason why people would want to destroy magic. Nothing comes to mind. “Why would the First Wardens want to wipe out magic?”

  The Colonel shrugs. “I can’t say.”

  “Meaning you don’t know,” I say slowly. “Or you do know … but you won’t tell me.”

  The Colonel gives me the side eye. “You gonna let me finish my story here?”

  Now, when the Colonel cracks out his you gonna let me finish my story line, there’s no point pushing him any further. He’ll say what he wants, and that’s it.

  I drum my fingers on the tabletop. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, there was a second set of wardens,” continues the Colonel. “They called themselves the Luxalta. They designed the pyramids in Egypt and tried to revive the fountain. They were a-hoping they wouldn’t have to wait five thousand years for the fountain to give its bounty. Their spells didn’t work, at least not when it came to bringing back the fountain. Other things they tried were more successful, though. In fact, they cast the spells that put those glyphs on your were-boy’s back.”

  “His name is Knox.” The Colonel is forever calling my mate your were-boy. For some reason, the Colonel believes there’s no guy in the universe good enough for me. Forgetting Knox’s name is his way of saying that. For someone who put me under a curse, the Colonel can be oddly protective.

  “Knox,” repeats the Colonel. “Is that his name now?”

  At this point, I want to remind the Colonel that I’ve told him Knox’s name about f
our hundred times. But I don’t. Sadly, that would just derail the Colonel from telling me more about the Luxalta wardens.

  “Let’s not talk about Knox right now.” I force a smile. “I really want to hear the rest of your story.”

  “If you insist. Well, them Luxalta wardens tried to get the whole pyramid setup to work like it did with the First Wardens. After all, the fountain begins to give its bounty every five thousand years. There was a chance it could begin again, even after the catastrophe of the First Wardens trying to destroy magic. The Luxalta wardens designed the pyramids of Egypt. Unfortunately, those pyramids never helped anyone find the old fountain, let alone activate it.”

  I rub my neck, my eyes lost in thought. “The old fountain, was it a geyser that appeared between the three pyramids in South America?”

  “You could say that.” Which is the Colonel’s way of saying that I’m partially right. The fae never lie. That said, they find a ton of loopholes to avoid the truth. The Colonel is holding back on me with this whole wardens story.

  It could be that he has an ulterior motive.

  It could also be that he just likes toying with mortals.

  When it comes to fairies, you never know.

  I shift my weight on my seat. “Let me ask you another way. The Luxalta wardens designed the pyramids in Ancient Egypt.”

  “True enough.”

  “Were they trying to get a geyser to show up between the pyramids?”

  The Colonel purses his lips. “You could say that.”

  “Let’s get one thing straight between us.” Using my pointer and middle fingers, I gesture between the Colonel’s eyes and mine. “These are non-answer answers. You’re holding out on me, and I know it.”

  “Of course you know it. You’re my sweet girl, and you’re very, very clever.” He wags his chopsticks in the air. “Now, where was I?”

  Again, I’m back to the truth that the Colonel won’t say anything that he doesn’t want to. So I decide to simply answer his question. “You were saying that the Luxalta wardens couldn’t get the pyramids in Egypt to start up or activate the old fountain.”