Happy Friday! Note, this story is NOT polished. I will be posting a scene or chapter weekly. Expect an urban fantasy world. Romance and mystery. And magic, of course. Enjoy!
** Apologies for missing last week. Happy reading!
PART 15
“Shh. Easy little mouse. No harm will come to you here,” came a deep, gravelly voice, one that sounded oddly familiar.
I blinked and peeked around a huge claw at something out of a movie. A seven-foot-tall creature, manlike in stature, covered with fur and standing on haunches of a black pelt, stared down at me.
It was Mason, I saw with amazement, recognizing his eyes. As I stared, I saw less of a monster and more of a graceful being that filled me with wonder. He had a human frame with canine features. His face looked like a melded blend of man and wolf, with whiskers, fur, and fangs. The blue-black-colored fur covering his muscles gleamed in the moonlight, and though I knew I looked at a top-tier predator, I couldn’t help thinking how regal he appeared. He should have seemed a mutation, inhuman. Instead, he looked as he was meant to be.
“Ah, I thought that was you.” He leaned closer and sniffed, and fear washed over me. Those teeth grew larger as he neared, and I was so very small… A raspy tongue stroked the top of my head, and I squirmed to bat him away with my tiny hands.
He rumbled what I took to be a laugh. “Oh yes. Definitely Lobo’s Red.”
I had no idea how he could be sound the same as he did in human form, considering the shape of his mouth, the contours of his lips. Mason should have been barking, whining, or growling. But then, magic often made the impossible possible.
He raised me in his clawed hands. “Your fur is shifting colors.”
Damn it. I saw myself in mottled brown and gold, which would work wonders had I been in the brush and not sitting in Mason’s big hands. I chittered at him to be put down and, to my surprise, he lowered me and set me gently on a mossy rock.
I scurried around and behind it, needing the cover to feel myself again. Natural selection reminded me that he was a predator, and I was prey to most things over a foot tall.
He grunted at me. “Watch out for the owls.” Then he bounded away, off deeper in a direction I hadn’t yet explored.
I rushed under bushes for more cover, then crossed a tiny creek to wash off my scent trail. Seeing no one around, I tried to shift into a hawk…and instead shifted into my vulpine form. Not what I’d been going for, but I’d take it.
Shifting is different for everyone, so I’ve heard. But for me, the glide of muscle and bone into a new shape is like being reborn. It’s glorious and joyful, and more than a little scary, because I can become so absorbed in my new essence that I don’t pay enough attention to my surroundings.
Once more a fox, I gave myself an all-body shake then bounded in the direction Mason had gone. I felt the earth under my paws direct me, the smell of magic and moonlight calling me deeper.
I took several paths, twining back around and crossing others. Then I picked up the rose-light, that scent of magic that wasn’t a scent. It lured me through several small burrows and into a dark cave that took a solid minute of pitch-black darkness to run through.
I emerged into a lush, warm forest filled with scent and bright colors under full moonlight—a spot of clarity that shouldn’t exist in the early spring weather, when frost still covered the ground.
Flowers and flowered shrubs bordered a small clearing the size of Feeds. In the middle of the grassy clearing, under a grinning moon, stood a tall pillar twice my human height made of shiny rock. Obsidian, maybe? The area was known to be a hotbed for ancient volcanic activity.
Except the pillar seemed curved in odd places, flecked with specs of what looked like silver and gold.
Crouched under a bush that smelled like raspberry but had blue and yellow flowers, I studied the pillar. Unable to see well from my position, I moved, keeping hidden behind foliage. Gradually, I could make out a female form in the unnatural shape of the rock. I sniffed and looked around, listening, but heard nothing but a rustle of leaves as the breeze caught them. And beyond, a rush of water from a nearby stream.
So very odd, this clearing that should be cold and barely budding, not warm and bursting with life.
I sensed no one but a few animals nearby, so I slowly tiptoed out of the safety of the woods into the open, on edge, my ears twitching.
The closer I drew to the pillar, the stronger the rose-scent grew. Overpowering, almost. I pushed past the intensity and lowered my head. The moment my nose touched the base of the obsidian, I turned back to human, the shift swift and powerful, knocking me on my ass.
“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long.” A woman’s voice came from the black rock. I blinked and scooted back on the grass as I gaped way up.
A pale white glow floated from the statue and coalesced into a transparent woman just as large as the pillar. Her features were hazy, yet I could see long hair, neither brown nor red, but something in between. Her eyes remained dark and steady as she watched me. I could do nothing but stare back, simultaneously confused and entranced. Oddly enough, her lack of clothing had no effect on my modest sensibilities, and I realized I didn’t feel a shred of the embarrassment I normally would while naked at this woman’s feet.
“Are you real?” Had I maybe sniffed a hallucinogenic flower? Inhaled some pollen that screwed with my senses?
She laughed, the sound drawing forth birds and furry creatures from the woods. She remained translucent, but as she held out a hand, a small blue bird settled in her palm.
“I’m real enough. But reality is all about perception, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” I just stared, and as she walked toward me, she solidified. A pale blue swath of fabric appeared and covered her from shoulder to ankle.
Creating something out of nothing? That smelled of spellcasting. “Who are you?”
She smiled. “I think the real question is, who are you?”