Warehouses. It always had to be warehouses.

 

     It wasn’t that Ambrosia didn’t know why they were there. She knew about the sudden influx of people the lonely town of Birchwood had received many years ago, which spurred the construction of shops, apartments, and, of course, warehouses. Unfortunately this popularity had lasted as long as the average fashion trend and soon, for reasons that no one was quite sure of, people began to trickle out. The town was left with too many buildings and not enough people to fill them. Workers lamented the loss of their jobs, landowners grumbled about how the buildings would now merely take up space, but no one bothered to get rid of them. So they sat, unhindered by passing time, as the world moved on without them. Their sole inhabitants were rats, dust and graffiti.

 

     Or at least, that was what the general public believed. The buildings, which were so forgotten that they seemed to fade into the background, were home to another group of residents that most humans eyes tended to skim over. Few knew of their presence because few believed that they existed at all. And even if they did, none would imagine that half of them spent their days lurking in warehouses, living on potato chips and cheap soda they stole from someone’s grocery cart.

 

     There are plenty of empty buildings, Ambrosia thought as she crept through the darkness of an old warehouse, but for some reason magical creatures are always attracted to warehouses. Maybe it’s the smell. Of course, not all magical creatures lived outside the law—both humans ones and those set by the Magic Council—but those that did seemed to exist for the sole purpose of making her act out this cliché over and over again. She had only lived in this town for a year but in that short time she had memorized the layouts of over half the warehouses.

 

     I guess I can’t complain too much. It usually means I don’t have to worry about anyone getting in the way.

 

     The air was cool and still. A few beams of moonlight slipped in from cracked windows above, illuminating motes of dust that swirled ceaselessly across the room. Her footsteps were careful to the point of near silence. The crowbar, which was covered in deep orange runes, felt reassuringly heavy in her palm. Aside from a few lesser demons at the door, the coast had so far been clear.

 

     Suddenly a sound broke the silent. She froze, ears straining. Another sound came, this one louder, and was followed by distant laughter that echoed ominously across the walls. Ambrosia darted silently over the floor. Above a catwalk ringed the room, with a few doors along the wall that lead to the main portion of the warehouse. Ambrosia climbed onto the catwalk and pressed her ear against one of the doors. When no sound came, she carefully opened the door and peered inside.

 

     This room was much larger than the last, with a series of catwalks stretched across the room. Florescent lights hung from the ceiling, unused for years and covered in silver cobwebs. Below the floor was nearly barren. The only sign of life was a trio of figures hunched around a campfire, their bulky forms silhouetted by the flames. Ambrosia carefully crept onto the catwalk to get a better look.

 

     Pig demons. Well, that confirmed the report she had gotten from Ralf. The ones guarding the door had only been guards, after all, and for all she knew they had merely stumbled in and decided that the entrance to an abandoned would be a good place for a nap.

 

     Lesser demons, as opposed to their more intelligent cousins, had long ago given up most of their magic for more permanent disguises. Most of these disguises were the forms of various animals, especially farmhouse ones, and for years they reaped the rewards of living under humans and escaping only when it was their turn for the slaughter. Unfortunately cities arose in the place of farms and many left. Those that remained now spent their time running around the city and causing trouble for the general public. That left the bounty hunters to take care of them.

 

     And oh what a glamorous job it is, she thought dryly as she watched her targets. On a spit the trio were roasting something that looked vaguely like the remains of a cat. Soda cans and candy wrappers were scattered in piles around the fire, which they added to periodically as they ate and murmured to each other in gruff voices. Occasionally they broke out into boisterous laughter so loud she was astonished that hadn’t heard them before.

 

     They looked like humans crammed into pig skins, with thin hair crowning their heads and short, fat limbs ending in pudgy digits. Despite their odd appearances she knew that they could appear as simple pigs with a slight nudge of magic. Two wore greasy clothes stretched over their fat pink bodies, while one had nothing on aside from a pair of trousers that were much too small. Since he was the one with the biggest tusks she quickly identified him as the leader.

 

     Ambrosia ducked out of sight as the leader glanced around. As quietly as possible she rummaged around in the bag at her hip and produced a long, thin piece of paper. Runes had already been scrawled across it in orange writing. With one last check—a bounty hunter always checks her equipment twice—she released the paper with a puff of breath. The paper was carried through the air until it wrapped itself around a hanging light above the campfire. The runes glowed briefly, secure.

 

     Three minutes.

 

     She leapt to her feet and shouted to the demons below, “Hey Bacon Bits!”

 

     The reaction was immediate: three heads swiveled in her direction, six beady eyes widening almost comically. There was a short uproar as the demons scrambled to their feet and turned to face her. Gone were the snacks snatched from dollar stores; now they held crude weapons cobbled together from broken glass, metal pipes, and stones.

 

     “What do you think you’re doing in our hideout?” the leader grunted. He seemed to realize the silliness of the question and squealed, “Get out!”

 

     “Oh, don’t be like that. I was just hanging out. Thinking about moving in, you know? I heard the rent is cheap.”

 

     The demons grumbled among themselves as they thought of a response. Ambrosia waited impatiently. Pig demons weren’t exactly the smartest creatures around, but that just made bantering with them more entertaining. Ah, banter. She loved banter. Maybe it was a bit immature—and a tad cliché—but she had to find something to keep her attention when she wasn’t out-right fighting. 

 

     Finally the pigs resolved with throwing a rock at her head and squealing unprintable insults.

 

     Oh well, she thought, can’t win them all. Time for the real fun.  She called upon the mana in the room, and it came obediently. Warmth spread through her body like wildfire, fierce and struggling to be unleashed. Her head was abuzz with calculations that came as naturally as breathing. Her fingertips buzzed as the magic accumulated in her hands, embers sparking across the runes on her palms.

 

     With a flick of her wrist a small orb of fire was sent crashing into the ground at the demons’ feet. They squealed as the unnaturally bright flames licked at their heels, leaving a faint smudge of ash on the concrete floor. They eyed her more warily now, unwilling to move forward as she quickly descended a ladder to their level and come to a stop a few yards away.

 

     “You’re right,” she said, “No point in wasting time with joking around. How about we get straight to the point? I want you out of here. And I don’t mean you can just leave this building and then we can be all hunky-dory. My job right now is to turn you in to the Council, and since that’s the only way I’m going to get paid I suggest you just give yourselves up right now and we can do this peacefully.”

 

     The response was more insults that clearly expressed their answer.

 

     “Who are you to give us orders?” the leader squealed angrily, “We’ll flatten you!”

 

     “Ambrosia Wilder, bounty hunter. At your service,” she said, giving them a mocking bow, “And I’d think twice about threatening the one who can control fire. Unless, of course, you want to experiment in the new tanning technique I like to call Burnt to a Crisp.”

 

     “That sounds kinda tasty,” one of the pigs whispered.

 

     “Shut up ya fool! We’re not going anywhere with this girl. Now stand your ground!”

 

     They all took up menacing poses, brandishing their makeshift weapons. Ambrosia’s hand tightened on her own weapon. Two minutes, her mental clock told her. She couldn’t help but smirk at them. “Oh, how scary! What are you going to do, throw mud balls at—?”

 

     She was cut off as the leader charged. His mass cleared the space between them with amazing speed, jerking his head back and forth in an attempt to spear her with his deadly tusks, and for a moment all she could see was the pig demon’s girth barreling towards her. But instincts kicked in just in time for her to duck to the side, roll out of range, and come up with her crowbar brandished. Now the weapon was glowing a bright orange, as if dipped in florescent paint, and was giving off waves of heat. Of course, she felt nothing more than a pleasant tug of warmth.

 

     She felt a flicker of hesitation as the three demons circled her. They suddenly looked a lot bigger. No time to hesitate! Focus!

 

     “Come on you big lumps,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’ve faced alley cats tougher than you lot.”

 

     One of the demons—the one with a broken bottle for a weapon—let out a squeal of rage and charged at her. She deftly ducked to the side and sent him packing with a blow to the backside that left a smoking, angry burn. The other two backed away, glaring fiercely. She took the moment to slowly back towards the campfire, towards the light that swung gently overhead.

 

     The remaining two charged.

 

     In a quick motion Ambrosia ducked towards the fire and swung her crowbar through its coals, sending hundreds of burning embers into the faces of her attackers. Their shrill squeals burned her ears, distracting her so that she didn’t see the third demon coming up behind her until he was already too close. A burst of pain ripped through her shoulder when she tried to dodge a bit too late. Quite suddenly he was standing over her with a broken bottle aimed at her head and a deadly light in his eyes. A bright fireball was all she needed to send him stumbling back, clawing wildly at the smoking hair on his chest, and just in time. She barely had enough time to scramble to her feet with a wince and leap out of range of the overhead lamp before it, despite the fact that there was no electricity in the building, turned on with a deafening click. 

 

     Silence reined. There were no squeals, no heavy breathing, just the gentle crackle of the remnants of the fire. Ambrosia let out a sign of relief. As much as she enjoyed taking down villains, it was nerve-wracking at the same time. 

 

     The girl turned and went to pick up her crowbar, which had been wrenched from her hands in the fray. Her shoulder ached, but there was no blood and it would probably nothing more than a bruise by morning. Stupid thing caught me off guard, she thought, turning to survey her opponents. Each one was frozen where they had last been, looking like savage garden ornaments. Their entire bodies were covered in a grey, concrete-like substance that seemed ghastly in the harsh orange light emitting from the light overhead. It was as if a cement truck had poured its contents over them while they fought an invisible opponent.

 

     “Don’t worry,” she said, tapping one on the forehead, “a simple spell will turn you back. The Council will decide when that happens.” Predictably, it didn’t answer.  

 

     She left the warehouse, emerging into the cool night air. Though the night was young the moon was full, illuminating the dark streets. There was little life in this part of town but as she watched a single car sped along the pavement and disappeared out of sight, but not before momentarily illuminating the lone figure in the shadows of an empty building. The figure paused, as if hesitant to reveal itself, but soon approached her at a brisk pace.

 

     “There you are, Ralf,” she said as he approached, “Glad you didn’t ditch me.”

 

     Dark eyes regarded her. “Of course not. I have a job to finish.”

 

     For such a pale person, he blended into the shadows amazingly well. Dressed in a long black coat and a hat that shielded his eyes, hair red as could be, it was sometimes hard to tell that he was a vampire until you noticed the tips of fangs when he spoke and the cold glint in his eyes. Fortunately for Ambrosia, he was on her side.

 

     “Normally when a vampire says that the smart response is to turn and run.”

 

     The corner of his mouth quirked upward for only a moment before he was back to business. “Did you get them?”

 

     “Of course. Three of them, with two more at the entrance. It was a pretty easy job.”

 

     “Are you sure you get them all? The report didn’t say how many—”

 

     “Relax, will you? I got them all. The only things alive in that warehouse are rats and cockroaches. Have I ever failed before?”

 

     “Don’t get overconfident,” he said as he whipped out a cell phone, “You may have taken down the demons, but how much property damage did you do this time?”

 

     She winced.

 

     “It is possible to do a job without causing damage to the surrounding area, you know.”

 

     “Hey, I barely did anything this time! Maybe a few burn marks on the floor. I’m not sure if that light is going to work again, though.”

 

     “That must be a record.”

 

     “Oh come on, I don’t always cause damage.”

 

     “Just most of the time.”

 

     “Anyway, it’s not like anyone is going to be using these buildings anytime soon.”

 

      He sighed. “Ambrosia, I think you need a break.”

 

     “You’re breaking up with me?” she joked, trying to keep back her feeling of unease.

 

     “I’m serious. Since you started working in this town you’ve done little else. I never hear you talk about your friends or anything aside from capturing creatures and collecting bounty. You’re stressed. I don’t need to be an empath to tell that.”

 

     “I’m not stressed. I just…” she trailed off, unable to think of a response.

 

     “Fighting creatures isn’t a good way to relieve tension.” He sighed, finishing his text and slipping his phone into his jacket. “Make some friends. Get a social life. And no, the people you gather information from don’t count as friends.”

 

     Headlights appeared around the corner and cut through the night. Ambrosia crossed her arms.

 

     “I would hardly call you one to lecture me on this. Vampires aren’t exactly known for their booming social lives, and you’re a perfect example. Anyway, I hardly see what this has to do with anything right now. You do the research, I take down the bad guys, and we both get paid. The end. Let’s stick our jobs.”

 

     “Some day you’re going to snap under the tension, and I don’t want to be the one to clean up the mess you leave behind.”

 

     “How touching.”

 

     “Roll your eyes all you want. But—“

 

     The car came to crouch nearby, waiting quietly to be loaded with demons to be taken to the Council. Ralf sighed, his resolve draining, and turned to the vehicle.

 

     “Goodnight, Ambrosia”

 

     He left without another word.

 

     With the moon rising at her shoulder, Ambrosia turned and headed down the quiet streets. She fumed silently. Who did he think he was? Council Agents were always butting into the business of others, even the low-level ones. No, especially the low-level ones. When you were at the bottom of the pack, you had a lot to prove, and many agents chose to climb the ranks by way of meddling. Ralf, whose sole purpose was to research the magic affairs of Birchwood and essentially tattle to bounty hunters like Ambrosia, was especially susceptible to this temptation. Even if it was a necessity to the job, it irked her to no end.

 

     Part of the reason she hated his interferences so much was that part of her wanted to admit that he was right. The prospect of slumping into her lonely apartment, with its mess of old spell books and dusty couch, wasn’t very comforting. The only comforting thing was that there would be her payment waiting, and she didn’t even care about the money that much.

 

     Realizing that her knuckles were white from clutching the crowbar, she shoved it into her bag. Experience had told her that the police—the human police, not Council agents—weren’t comfortable with young women walking down the streets at night with murder in their eyes and a crowbar in hand. She was beginning to regret favoring the bus to her motorcycle on her way here. It was a cheaper option, considering the price of gas, but with a glance at her watch she saw that the nearest bus wouldn’t arrive for another half an hour. It would be easier to walk the whole way.

 

     The lone figure risked cupping her hands around a small orange flame, both for light and warmth, as she headed through the cold, empty streets. The magical flame licked at her fingers as she fed it a low stream of energy, which came as easy as breathing. Without the flame her breath billowed from her lips. The sky ahead was overcast in typical Seattle fashion. The town was a few hours from the Emerald City, but the weather didn’t seem to notice. It embraced the rain like an old friend.

 

     Ambrosia took one hand from the fire to rub her shoulder. Stupid demons, she thought, And stupid me, for not paying enough attention. This is going to hurt in the—

    

     Her fire roared to life as a loud yowl echoed through the streets. She stood frozen as the sound reverberated across the buildings, sending a chill snaking up her spine. Quietly, unwilling to attract more attention than necessary, she turned to the alley behind her as her hand crept towards the crowbar in her bag. Her fire sent shadows dancing as a pair of eyes glared at her from the darkness.

2: Chapter 2

     Upon further inspection Ambrosia found the mysterious alleyway creature to be rather disappointing. 

 

     The cat hissed. Its ginger fur bristled as it stood its ground, positioned defensively on a top of a trash can. It seemed unafraid of the fire in her hand.

 

     “Shoo!” Ambrosia hissed back.

 

     For a moment it seemed like the cat was going to listen, but then it let out another piercing screech and lunged. Ambrosia was too surprised at the sudden assault to react. She felt claws rake across her cheek and before she knew it her butt connected with the concrete and the fire in the hand was lobbed halfway across the street, burning a patch of paint from a closed storefront. 

 

     Oops, she thought with a grimace, scrambling to her feet. She turned just in time to see a ginger tail disappear into the alleyway. For a moment she thought about chasing after it to extract revenge, but the idea was quickly dispelled. There was no point in wasting time chasing after a cat with anger management issues.

 

     She rubbed her cheek, glaring into the darkness, as her blood chilled. Something felt off. On a hunch she checked her bag and found that something was indeed off. That something just happened to be her spell-writing chalk, which was missing from its normal pouch on the face of her bag. The pouch had been torn open in a way that suggested it had angered a group of garden appliances. Her mind slowly worked together what happened.

 

     She whirled around and lit the street with a bright flash of firelight. Her chalk was nowhere to be seen. Rage burned her ears. She hadn’t just been bested by a random creature in an alleyway; she had been bested by a cat. A cat with meat cleavers for claws, but still a cat.

 

     And she hated cats.

 

     She raced down the alleyway, a spell on the tip of her fingers. If that feline thought it could get away with stealing her magic chalk, it had another thing coming. A thought in the back of her mind told her how silly the whole thing seemed, but she ignored it. Before she could get far, however, her phone went off with a shrill buzz. With an exhale of annoyance she flipped it open.

 

     “Can’t this wait?” she snapped.

 

     “Seven pigs.”

 

     “What?”

 

     “I just got another report,” Ralf said, “an agent called in and reported that this gang had seven members. Seven  members, Ambrosia. You only have five here.”

 

     She leaned against a wall, taking this in. “But there was only five in the warehouse! I checked every square inch. There’s no way…”

 

     “They might have been out when we went in. It doesn’t matter. The point is that we’re missing two.”

 

     A silence hung between them. She could go home right now, and tell him to do the same. They would still get at least half of the bounty, and while that wasn’t much it would support her for the week. She could wait until something better came up. It wouldn’t be too hard, and she was tired from the long day. Unfortunately, that would mean leaving a job unfinished.

 

     She sighed. “I’ll be there soon.”

 

     She flipped her phone closed and hurried further into the alleyway. If she got her chalk back quickly she could be back to the warehouse in half an hour. She turned a corner, out of the range of the streetlights, and let a fire bloom in her palm. The flame was a beacon in the dark; it made an easy target, but she was so tense that nothing could move outside her notice. She was so tense, in fact, that she almost jumped out of her skin when a drop of water splashed against her nose.

  

     Of course it had to rain now. The weather seemed to have a sense of drama that sprung up only when she was trying to get a job done. The fact that rain wasn’t exactly rare in these parts didn’t help matters.

 

     The cat was waiting around the corner. It sat hunched in between two buildings, its back to her as if her presence was nonexistent. Her chalk had been tossed onto the wet ground at least twenty feet away. As she approached she saw that the cat was staring at it steadily. Her first thought was to give the feline a piece of her mind, but the way it was staring so intently made her feel nervous to approach so she settled for sidling past it and going for the chalk.

 

     You get off easy this time, cat.

 

     A shiver crept up her spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold. There was a shift in the air as she advanced. Her flame went out at the same time her legs seized up, unwilling to go forward. Immediately she stumbled back, staring at the clear air as her battle instincts began to sing. Finally she noticed something that caused her to light up the area with a bright ball of flames. Faint ruins were engraved into the ground, pulsing a dull, sickly red. They stretched between the buildings at two points, enclosing an area that included her chalk and a door that was slightly ajar. One was stretched at her feet.

 

     That was defiantly strange. She didn’t recognize the runes either; they were an older dialect, one that she had spent little time learning in favor for the newer, quicker runes.

 

     “Well,” she whispered, “what’s this about?”

 

     Crouching by the runes, she quickly conjured a simple disruptor spell and let her fingers brush the concrete. Immediately a flush of orange light pulsed across the runes. They crackled unhappily, pulsing once or twice until the light faded and all that was left were faint scratches.

 

     Before she could even blink the cat dashed across the alley and through the door. Curious, Ambrosia scooped up her chalk and followed after it. She entered in time to see a ginger tail disappear around the corner of the dimly lit hall. Doors dotted the walls.

 

     Around the corner she spied a single door ajar, which she peered into. Boxes were stacked haphazardly across the floor, some forming towers that looked ready to collapse. In the absence of a light switch she allowed a small flame to form in her cupped hand. Her light illuminated a furry figure crouched next to a tower of sagging boxes, its head bent to something just out of view.

 

     She frowned. Something about this building felt unnerving, like the air itself was trying to warn her. The oxygen seemed thick and hard to inhale.

 

     She crept forward, trying not to startle the cat. In truth she wanted to blast it with a rush of fire, but her curiosity overrode her anger. The cat was either smart enough to trick her into letting it into the building or was simply running in circles. Either way, it unnerved her too much to simply ignore. For all she knew it would follow her home and steal her fridge.

 

     There was something behind the boxes. She could see a pair of ginger-furred paws sticking out from behind them. They looked wrong, as if everything but fur and bone had been sucked out.

 

     The cat raised its head and let out a mournful yowl, shattering the silence. She froze, listening to the sound echo through the hallway, and barely managed to slip behind a mound of boxes before the door was shoved open.

        

     Heavy footsteps approached slowly. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins, making her fingers tingle with heat, but she forced herself not to allow a fire to spark on her palms and rush to the mysterious visitor. She waited for the figure to go after the cat, to chase it away, but soon the footsteps ceased and silence once again reigned. Pressure was building in her chest. Just as she was about to give up and attack the footsteps resumed.

 

     She released a breath as the sound faded and stopped, capped off by the closing of a distant door. Ambrosia glanced around. A pair of eyes appeared high in the jungle of boxes, glaring at the door with a smoldering hatred that Ambrosia wouldn't have thought an animal capable of. She got to her feet and carefully peered into the hallway. At the far end it branched into a “T” with a door at the intersection, from which she could see a line of eerily red light shining out from the bottom.

 

     Careful not to make a sound, the wizard approached the door. The light flickered as a pair of feet passed in front of it. In the quiet she could hear the low murmuring of voices.

 

     Once again the chalk was in her hands and a paper was slipped from her bag. She quickly scribbled down a listening spell and pressed the paper against the door, allowing a spark of magic to flow through her hand and activate the spell. Immediately voices flowed into her head.

 

     “…had one job and you nearly already ruined that. I don’t see why…”

 

     “Correction: I had two jobs. And I think I’m doing pretty well with the second one so far.”

 

     There was an icy silence and the second voice hastily added, “Sir.”

 

     “I’ll decide how well you do on this when we’re finished. Now stop blabbering and get back to work. We'll resume discussions later, when this is all done. The last thing we need is months of research to go to waste.”

 

     There was a scrape of metal against wood and the rustling of papers, accompanied by the first voice berating the second. The first voice was sharp and chilly, like the edge of a knife. It seemed to cut through the air and leave all other sounds muted. She could gather little from the second voice, not even its gender.

 

     Well, no point in standing around if I can’t even see what’s going on.

 

     Remembering how the spell was written took a few minutes, but she eventually managed to sketch it lightly onto the door with her chalk, any faint scrapings masked by the sounds in the room. Soon it was done and, keeping the listening spell secure, she put her other hand on the designated circle on the wood and let power spark from her fingers. She probably shouldn’t have been spending this much energy when she was already rather drained, but by now she was so absorbed in the investigation that conservation was the last thing on her mind.

 

     An image appeared on the door, as if it had turned into thick, smudged glass. Behind it a single figure stood, a hand on his hips. His other arm was hidden behind a thick cloak.

 

     Ambrosia raised an eyebrow. Seriously, who wears cloaks these days? You’re just begging for suspicion.

 

     She squinted, trying to see the other figure. Red runes were spread out across the room. They covered the floor and snaked across the walls, slipping in and out of the thick shadows and eventually circling around an empty bucket in the center of the room. Only their dull color showed that they had yet to be activated. She could see no one else.

 

     The figure turned and she flinched, but he was simply frowning at the wall to her left. A shadow flickered into view. She waited for the shadow’s owner to follow, but it never did. Red sparks crackled from the runes as the shadow passed over them, skimming along the lines with a casual ease as if to check them, the point where it would normally be attached to a body simply trailing behind it like a tail. 

 

     A shade? I’ve never seen one of those around here before. I don’t think they’re even allowed in the city.

 

     “All done, boss,” the shade said, circling around the man’s feet. “Runes are in place, double-checked and triple-checked. I even went for a quadruple check while I was at it.”

When the man didn’t chuckle the shade went on hurriedly. “So yeah, I’m ready when you are.”

 

     “And the concoction?” he asked coldly.

 

     “One part water, one part salt, and one part lifeblood.”

 

     Ambrosia didn’t hear the man’s answer. Blood was roaring in her ears as realization suddenly slammed into her chest. A blood wizard.

 

     It was time to leave.

 

     Careful not to make a sound, she let the spells unravel and turned to tiptoe out the hall. The Council would need to know about this. Blood wizards were a big deal, and even she knew not to tackle one on her own.

 

     A jolt went up her leg and she gasped, momentarily forgetting herself. She slapped her hands over her mouth and stared down at the security spell that pinned her foot to the floor. Sloppy ruins, her mind immediately supplied, not like most blood wizards. They like things tough and precise but this looks like it was thrown together at the last minute. Poorly powered too, if it only sensed me now…

 

     The part of her mind that wasn’t diagnosing the spell was fighting against it, hastily ripping at the attacking magic and trying to get into the spell’s base to deactivate it. The shimmering, rusty-red runes glowed a dark, sickly color. In her rising panic—why was this taking so long?—she caught the smell of wine and copper.

 

     Behind her, the door slammed open. She twisted the best she could with one foot frozen to the floor and threw out her hand. Bright fire leapt from her fingertips, scorching the door as it was hastily thrown shut. She went to one knee and she shoved her smoldering hand onto the faint runes etched on the floor. Orange light flooded the hall as another burst of fire scorched the floor, obscuring the runes.

 

     With a jerk she broke free and darted down the hall. Adrenalin roared in her ears, fueling her forward, and anger against blood wizards as a whole kept her going despite the tiredness beginning to drag at her limbs. Too much magic in too little time.

 

     The shadows thickened in front of her. She skidded to a halt not five feet from the door, hand shooting out to blast the shade or the spell or whatever the wizard was trying to throw at her. But it was too late. Yellow light snapped into existence behind her, pinning her shadow sharply to the door—not just her shadow, though, because her shadow didn’t have two narrowed gaps where her eyes should have been, showing the brown wood behind it.

 

     Trapped, was her first thought. She was pinned, unable to move, as if she had been frozen in time. Shadows shifted as the wizard approached. His footsteps echoed along the hall. But she was motionless, barely able to even breathe. Even when she tried to push with her magic she found that her mind was sluggish and cold.

 

     The shade grinned. Ambrosia’s mind dully noted that the door gave it brown teeth.

 

     “Careful with that light, Boss,” it said, “the more distinct her shadow the easier it is to paralyze.”

 

     “I’m well aware.” The bounty hunter was faintly proud to hear a deep annoyance grinding at the man’s voice. “How did she get in?”

 

     “If I had a guess, I’d say the door.”

 

     A long silence.

 

     “Er…I mean, sir, I wanted to save as much energy as possible for, you know, the big spell, so I didn’t really spend that much on…”

 

     “You skimmed out on security measures? The spells that keep people from barging in and ruining what we have spent months preparing? Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around.”

 

     “It’s because you can’t use your own—“

 

     “Yes, thank you. I know. Now hold her still…”

 

     There was a faint rustle behind her and she felt a band of paper bind her wrists together. As much as she wanted to jerk her head back and break his nose she still found herself unable to move.

 

     “Ready,” the man said.

 

     Something seemed to spark in the shade’s eyes. The paper tightened on her wrists, digging into her skin, as she felt the tingle of unfamiliar magic running up her arm. Even without seeing the runes she recognized the spell. Her own magic, which she had depended on since she was small, was absorbed into the thin band binding her wrists. Not good, was her only thought.

 

     The light disappeared. No longer bound by the shade’s spell, she felt a sudden surge of energy. It was short lived, however, as a hand roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards. The magic that instinctively leapt to her fingers was absorbed before it could even draw enough mana to work. Her body was lethargic from a long day of magic use and she found herself being dragged along the hallway with little she could do but struggle weakly.

 

     To her surprise she was brought into the rune-covered room and deposited in the corner. The man gave her a stern look that suggested he would take care of her later. She had learned long ago not to think about what her enemies would do to her for revenge; even though she didn’t have the most colorful of imaginations, she could think of plenty of horrible punishments. It wasn’t healthy for her psych.

 

     The man took a small vial from his coat. Its contents glittered a deep red as he tipped his hand and allowed the liquid to pour into the bucket in the center of the room. The runes around it crackled slightly, but there wasn’t enough magic for the spell to activate. That, evidently, was where the shade came in. It skimmed along the runes, dark red sparks leaping from the lines that it touched as the dull red color turned bright and luminous.

 

     She could feel stifling magic filling the room, making the air feel hot and thick. The magic increased, the air growing hotter and thicker, as the shade poured more and more power into the spell. Ambrosia had no idea what the spell did, but she knew that it couldn’t be anything good. She squirmed fruitlessly, trying to free herself from the magic-sucking bonds.

 

     The man was standing over the bucket, eyes glued to it. Behind him, in the corner of the room, was an empty can of red paint. Some of the runes were still wet.

 

     This had gone far enough. Ambrosia took a deep breath; she felt a tightness in her throat, a comforting heat that usually centered itself in her scarred palms. Most of her magic was sucked into the bonds, but she still felt it close around her throat, choking her breath. Her lungs burned as she held it, allowing the magic to build…

 

     She breathed. Fire leaped from her throat and spewed out across the flickering runes. The man jerked back with a shout and the shade screamed. Instantly the spell was broken. Thick magic poured into the air, stifling her breaths as she desperately sucked in oxygen. Her body felt drained and her throat was raw as a butcher’s meat, but she felt more alive than she had all night.

 

     “Idiot!” the man screeched, and she wasn’t sure who he was talking to. All she could think about was how amazed she was that her plan had worked.

 

     “Oh no, oh no,” the shade was whimpering as it circled around the broken runes, where her fire had scorched the ground. “This is bad!”

 

     She was hauled to her feel and shoved roughly against the wall. Her shoulder screamed.

 

     “You’re going to regret that,” the man hissed. In the back of her mind she dimly noted that he had the palest blue eyes she had ever seen.

 

     She opened her mouth for a sharp reply, but her throat burned too much to allow her its use. Instead, she settled for glaring.

 

     “So,” he said, voice suddenly an icy calm, “what’s your story, then? Sent by the Council to stop me?”

 

     “Sir!”

 

     He ignored the shade. Ambrosia felt herself locked into his piercing gaze. “Come now, you can tell me. How did they know I would be here?”

 

     Her mouth opened on its own accord, as if yearning to answer him, but she forced it closed. What’s wrong with me?

 

     A slow smile spread across his face. She tried to look away, but it was impossible—once again, she was trapped. A small spark glowed in his eyes.

 

     In a slow, easy voice he said, “Fine, if you won’t answer me I’ll ask something else. You see, I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. I’ve been looking for something for quite some time, but can’t seem to find it. Surely you’ll be willing to help me, won’t you?”

 

     Ambrosia jerked in her bonds, eyes still trapped.

 

     “See, I’m not the bad guy here. I know it doesn’t look good, but you have to believe me. They forced my hands. That Counsel you serve so dearly gave me no choice but to take measures into my own hands. I’m going to ask you this once, and I want an answer. Alright?”

 

     She was amazed to find herself nodding. Snap out of it!

 

     “Good,” he said in a honey-sweet voice, “Now, I need you to tell me where I can find a dragon’s tooth.”

 

     She stared.

 

     “Come now, I know there’s one in this town. Just tell me where it is and everything will be okay.” His grip tightened on her arm, smile thin and cold.

 

    Ambrosia opened her mouth and croaked through a burning throat, “Bite me.”

 

     His icy smile twisted into a frown. This expression seemed much more at home on his face. Snapped out of his strange hypnotics and feeling a rush of rebellion, she raised her heel and slammed it onto his foot.

 

     With a yelp he shoved her down. Her head hit the wall and she slumped to the ground, mind ringing. Above her the man was screaming, but she couldn’t make out most of the words.

 

     “I want her gone!” she managed to hear him hiss, “I don’t care how, just get rid of her!”

 

     “My magic…”

 

     “I know you’re running out! Do you think I’m an idiot? But this girl has ruined our spell and there’s no way to salvage it until tomorrow at the very least. Just take a spell and get her out of our hair for good.”

 

     With that the door slammed shut.

 

     “Get rid of her,” the shade muttered in a mocking imitation of the man. “Keh, what does he think I am? A butler?”

 

     There was a short, contemplating pause, as if it was flipping through a recipe book, and then the shade said, “Ah, this one will do. Now, hold still…I mean, not that you have much of a choice. Heh, I should be a comedian.”

    

     The shade appeared on the ceiling above, eyes narrowed in concentrated slits. For a moment she could have sworn that the creature paused, eyes widening slightly in hesitation, but then a surge of icy magic flooded her veins and she faded to black.

 

     With her last shred of consciousness she wondered if anyone would ever find her body in this empty town.

 

3: Chapter 3

   Ambrosia had always been familiar with death. As a bounty hunter, she had been raised with the idea that anyone could die: family, friends, and even unlucky clients. In a job as dangerous as her own she knew better than anyone to be prepared for the worst. She had steeled herself for misfortune. At any moment her death was imminent and she knew it. At one point her will was updated regularly, but now she had no one to leave her possessions to; it now sat in a folder in the back of her closet, slowly collecting dust.

 

     With all the preparation that had gone into dying, she was almost disappointed to open her eyes to a ceiling of dark clouds. If this was the afterlife, she was severely disappointed; her head was pounding with an approaching migraine and her bones felt like they had been melted down and twisted into pretzels.

 

     A dark gloom hung in the air. The soft pitter-patter of rain had increased to a near torrent. She could see it splattering onto the concrete, louder than it looked, and slowly soaking her to the bone. Her head felt fuzzy. Ambrosia squeezed her eyes shut and tried to fight off the pounding headache.

 

     Did the spell fail? That wasn’t impossible, as sometimes spells simply didn’t work, but it seemed a bit difficult for even a sloppy shade to realize that a fatal one hadn’t done its job. Still, she couldn’t complain. As long as she got out of this relatively unfazed she would mark this disastrous night as a success.

 

     The sound of movement made her open her eyes. Through the dim light she could see two reflective eyes leering out from the shadow of a dumpster. They regarded her with disdain, as if she had failed some task.

 

     “Shoo!” she tried to snap at the cat, but all she heard was a strangled bark.

 

     She froze. The sound echoed briefly through the alley, only to be swallowed up by rain. The eyes blinked out. Ambrosia tried to scramble to her feet, but her legs weren’t working right and she flopped to the ground. Don't panic, she told herself, heart pounding, it's just a minor motor skill malfunction. Happens all the time after a big spell.

 

     Ambrosia looked down, expecting to see her hands mutated and mutilated, but was instead met with the sight of short white fur and toes ending in blunt claws. Paws. She had paws. Wiggling her toes, she discovered that she indeed had control over them. They were flesh, blood, and fur, not plastic.

 

     A loud yowl ripped through the alleyway. The panicking wizard attempted to scramble to her feet, falling flat onto her face a few times before she managed to stand in a vaguely upright position against the wet brick wall, wobbling on all fours. It took all she had not to let loose another yowl as she craned her neck back as far as she could. Yes, that was definitely a tail sticking out from the tip of her spine. Hey, she thought, head light, That’s new.

 

     A puddle had formed not a few feet away. She stumbled towards it, half dragging herself as her legs refused to work properly, and peered in.

 

     White fur, splotched with brown over one eye, and a short muzzle greeted her. Two long ears dangled from the sides of her head. The worst part was the part that had changed the least; as she gazed into the reflection, two dark eyes gazed back at her. They were still brown, so dark they were almost black, with a fierce blaze of passion that glimmered even now and flecks of gold barely distinguishable in the dark light. There was no mistaking her own gaze.

 

     She staggered back, feeling sick to her stomach. There was no way that the face looking back had belonged to her. But what other explanation was there?  The concrete was rough under her paws. Lifting one, she awkwardly tried to twist it around to look at her palm. The black skin was calloused and rough, with smudged, faded orange runes that were so twisted in trying to fit with her hand’s new form that they were surely useless. What really convinced her that she was looking at her own hand was the thick scar that ran through the center like a strike of lightning.

 

     What kind of spell was that? she wondered. It certainly had done its job, if its job was to make her a fifth of her normal size. The part where it made her a dog was much more distressing. She was still trying to process her lack of hands when the distant sound of metal smashing into concrete snapped her out of her stupor. She heard it as clear as a gunshot. She pressed herself against the wall, fur bristling and tail rigid.

 

     A shout drifted through the rain. “Watch where you’re going, you idiot! Do you want to wake up the whole city?”

 

     There was a grunt and a muffled reply. Ambrosia felt her blood go cold. She didn't know why, but her mind immediately screamed at her, Pig demons!

 

     “Oh, shut up. We have work to do! Are you sure the trail leads this way?” The voice was definitely female.

 

     “Duh,” grunted the first voice, “My nose is always right!”

 

     “Shut up! You said that last time, and we wasted an hour slinking around a deli.”

 

     “What? I was hungry.”

 

     There was a slapping sound and the female shouted, “Just find the girl! If she thinks that she can escape our noses and get away with capturing our brothers she's got another thing coming. I don't care how shaky the trail is, just find her again.”

 

     It was time to go; panicking could come later, and she was too rattled to fight. A quick scan of the alleyway alerted her to a spot of orange under the dumpster, where her chalk had been carelessly tossed. Her short arms were just barely long enough to scoop it out. Had she tried, she probably could have squirmed all the way under.

 

     Ambrosia was thankful that she had at least one weapon, even though she wasn't sure if she could use it in her rattled state. She gripped the chalk in her teeth and darted out into the street. The moon was still low, peering out through the clouds. Not much time could have passed since she had last been awake. Looking around, she realized that she wasn't sure where she was. When in doubt, head north. She turned to trot in the opposite direction of the voices.

 

     As she traveled, lights began to appear in windows. Vehicles moved sluggishly through the darkness. Every once in a while someone would walk down the sidewalk, making her duck into the shadows and wait them out, but for the most part people were inside or asleep, away from the sleepy rain even as she made her way into the more populated side of town. Her senses were sharp and alert; she could hear cars rumbling from many blocks away; she could smell exhaust and oil in their wake, coating the concrete and intermixing with the stale scents of food and mold and thousands of other smells she couldn't place. Had it been the middle of the day she would have been overwhelmed.

 

     The demons were still following. They weren’t exactly the stealthiest of creatures, but years of practice had given them a good sense for the layout of back alleys and shortcuts away from the street. Brief gusts of wind gave her routine whiffs of pig demon scent—grease and stale beer—that she would have recognized even as a human. She knew that her keen smell didn't give her an advantage though--if her nose was sharp, their noses were sharper.

 

     She ducked into a doorway to catch her breath. Her lungs burned, even after such a short run, and her legs ached with the unfamiliar movements of running on all fours. She tried to focus on the discomfort and to avoid thinking too hard about her situation. Act first, think later; that had always been her motto and it had kept her alive this long.

 

     Admittedly, this wasn’t the worse situation she had been in. Now that she was confident that she wouldn’t blast off her own feet while trying to fight back, a few quick fire balls would be all she needed to get them off her tail and give her time to call up Ralf—once she found a phone, that is. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too hard to reverse the spell. Overall, she wasn’t faring too badly. This night wasn’t worse than the time she had been stuck in a lamp with a talkative genie who had rather strong opinions on the nation’s political system. That had been a painful weekend.

 

     She closed her eyes. It was time to stop running.  

 

     Finding her core had always been an easy task, even as a child. It was the center of her magic, a reflection of her strength, the smoldering flame was always just beneath the surface. All she had to do was tap into it. But at the moment, when it should have been leaping with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she felt nothing.

 

     Deeper. It had to be somewhere.

 

     Finally, her senses brushed against something. But it wasn’t a roaring flame; it was cool and unresponsive, a burnt out coal left over from a blaze. She poked at it, trying to nudge it to life, but it responding with nothing. Her blood chilled, eyes popping open. She tried to shove her core to life, hoping to force it into lending her magic, but all it let out was a cough of smoke. She was powerless.

 

     The smell of grease was suddenly overpowering as a pinkish figure blocked her view. There was a flash of triumph on its face, but that quickly evaporated when it realized what it was looking at. She snarled, catching it off guard, and darted between its legs, across the street, and into an alleyway. Her brief victory was soon crushed, however, when she turned the corner and had to skid to a halt before the high chain link fence barring her way. 

 

     There was a scramble of feet behind her. When the demons burst into sight all they saw was the tip of her tail disappearing from beneath the fence and into the bushes beyond. Ambrosia grimaced as she snaked among the shrubberies, feeling twigs prick at her face. A loud clash and subsequent cursing told her that her captors were having a bit more trouble getting past the obstacle. At least her new size had one advantage. But she would rather have her magic.

 

     A pink paper was trapped among the tangles of a strong-smelling plant. She peered at it, curious where she had ended up. Annual School Carnival, the flyer proclaimed, lasting all night. Don’t miss it! Creeping along a small path, she soon verified this claim. Half a dozen booths were set up along a large school building, covered in tarps and umbrellas to fend off the rain, and two more were being taken down and transported to the safety of the gym. Yellow light spilled from the high windows, and through the open door she could see people milling around. Excited shouts floated through the air. Even from across the field she could smell fried foods and buttery popcorn. Over all, it was exactly the sort of scene you would expect from a school carnival.

 

     Perfect, she thought smugly and slipped towards the light.

______________________________________________________________________

 

     Yeah, perfect. If this is perfect then I’m the queen of England.

 

     Ambrosia shifted her weight, trying to avoid the steady dripping of water that was trying to nail a hit directly in her eye. Not ten feet away a young man shoved ineffectually against the tangled stacks of folding chairs, grumbling and cursing when the pile shifted precariously.

 

     “Come on, you stupid dog!” he said, crouching down and glaring at her beneath the chair legs. She glared right back.

 

     The logic behind sneaking into the hubbub of the carnival was fairly sound, she thought; the demons wouldn’t dare showing themselves in a highly populated event of humans just for a bit of revenge. That would earn them a bit more than a single low-rank bounty hunter after their tails. Maybe they would even get a hunter sent directly from the Council. No, the logic wasn’t the problem. The problem was the execution.

 

     She wasn’t quite used to her new body. Running was quite easy, provided she didn’t think too hard about it, but the moment she tried to do something complicated like, say, sneaking through a carnival in a brightly lit gymnasium, that things started to go wrong. Moving in this body seemed to be like riding a bike—she never forgot, but she couldn’t remember the actual learning. It seemed that instincts were engraved in her brain, but they didn’t appreciate requests on how to act.

 

     So here she was; sitting beneath the sports bleachers, amidst a maze of folding chairs that seemed to have been arranged by an orangutan. Fence stretched to one side and behind her the escape was blocked by a storage shack and a tangle of band equipment. Peering through the stands, she could barely see the light of the gymnasium across the football field.

 

     She wasn’t exactly sure how this had happened in the first place. One moment she was clumsily creeping behind a stall and the next moment a toddler had grabbed her tail and startled her out into the open. Before long she had zigzagged her way through the crowd, knocking over a popcorn stall and causing general chaos until she managed to duck away and escape with only one grumpy pursuer. He seemed determined to catch her.

 

     “Buzz off,” she growled, which only made his eyes narrow.

 

     A new voice entered the fray. “Uh...Kevin? What are you doing?”

 

     “Eva!” The head disappeared from her view. “I wasn’t doing anything—wait, what are you doing out here?”

 

     “Uh, I was reading—“

 

     “In the rain?”

 

     “I have an umbrella. Is...is something wrong?”

 

     He heaved a sigh. “This stupid dog somehow got into the gym and messed up the carnival. Even spilled Mr. Beet’s stall. I’m trying to get the thing out of here. Speaking of the carnival, shouldn’t you be at your stall?”

 

     “I finished my shift. Anyway, it’s too crowded in there.” She shifted her weight, “A dog, you say?”

 

     “Yeah.” There was a pause, and then an excited tone entered the man’s voice. “That’s right! Eva, didn’t I hear once that you're good with animals?”

 

     “Um—“

 

     “Can you take it from here? I need to get back to the carnival.”

 

     Another pause. Finally the girl sighed, obviously unable to come up with a way out. She must have nodded because the man said “Great! Thanks!” and his footsteps retreated.

 

     A head peered under the chairs. She was young, obviously a student of the high school, with short black hair and a splash of freckles across her nose. A pair of bright blue eyes sat behind rain-splotched glasses. Ambrosia growled. Those eyes reminded her too much of her last encounter with another wizard.

 

     “Hey there,” the girl said softly, “Come on out, OK? I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

     I don’t think I should be the one afraid of being hurt. Ambrosia thought, baring her teeth.

  

     The girl shrank back slightly, but still spoke in a quiet voice, her eyes trying to lock with Ambrosia’s own. “There’s no need to hide. I promise I won't do anything bad. We'll get you out and somewhere warm... you look too smart to be a stray, so you must have an owner."

 

     She frowned. After a moment Ambrosia’s path was blocked even more as the girl squatted down on the wet grass and held out a hand, reaching as far as she could. “Come on, now. Your eyes are... kind of weird... but I’m not going to hurt you. I just want—“

 

     Ambrosia darted forward, sinking her teeth into the offered hand. With a yelp the girl jerked back, hand going to her chest, as the wizard darted past. Hm, tastes like grape, Ambrosia couldn’t help but think as she sprinted out into the drizzling rain. Where to now?

 

     The answer came in the form of a loud shuffling of underbrush from behind the fence, something she wouldn’t have noticed without her new ears. She froze, forgetting Eva. A pair of pink ears peeked out from the bushes, and even closer, directly behind the crisscrossed metal, a large creature paced back and forth on four legs. It grinned when it saw her.

 

     “Pigs?” a voice whispered behind her, “W-what on earth are pigs doing here? Those things are huge!”

 

     “Go back!” Ambrosia snapped, turning to face the girl, “Get to the gym!”

 

     Of course Eva didn’t understand her words and only shrunk back from the furious barking. A loud series of crashes brought their attention back to the demons, both of whom were smashing their heads against the fences, tusks slashing away at the thin metal. The female looked up, eyes glinting with malice.

 

     “Yes, come out little pup,” she sneered, “Your little disguise can’t fool our noses.”

 

     At this point Eva looked like she was about to faint. Ambrosia sincerely hoped that she didn’t, because then she would have to deal with the guilt of causing her death at the hands of pig demons. Her night was already going badly enough without that on her conscience. Of course, considering their current lack of any form of communication or defense, just getting one of them out of this alive was going to a hassle.

 

     Ambrosia darted towards the shocked girl. She wasn’t sure exactly how to attract attention, so she slammed her head into Eva’s leg and let out a sharp yell that ended as a bark. Eva gasped, but when she looked down the dog was already running across the field. Come on! Ambrosia thought, looking back at her with a mixture between hope and frustration, Don’t just stand there, run!

 

     Thankfully the girl took the hint--or, more likely, didn't want to face the ferocious pigs and deduced that they were between her and the school--and darted across the wet grass. Behind them the demons burst through the metal fence and thundered after them.

4: Chapter 4

     A quick dash across the field brought the girls to another stretch of chain link fence. Eva flung a gate open and latched it behind them, earning them a few more seconds to flee. They hurried along a rough gravel path that trailed through brush and trees, the foliage getting denser as they went. Ambrosia barely felt the rocks bite at her feet. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to lose the demons. Magic wasn’t an option and she was weaponless. Eva was already panting, eyes wide with terror. There was little chance of keeping up this pace for too long. To her horror, Ambrosia saw the trees thinning out ahead.

 

     “This way!” Eva said suddenly, swerving down a side path.

 

     Ambrosia hesitated for only a moment before following, figuring she had nothing to lose. The foliage thinned out and before long Ambrosia could see a stone wall ahead, ten feet high and coated with graffiti. An entrance led to a T-shaped intersection. There was a sign carved into the side. A maze?

 

     They were almost to the entrance when a bulky mass of pink blocked their path, brandishing its tusks menacingly. The girls skidded to a halt. Ambrosia was getting tired of these creatures. She didn’t care if she had no weapons aside from teeth and claw; she was ready to launch herself at the demon blocking her escape and tear at its flesh as much as she could before it overpowered her. Maybe Eva could even get away.

 

     But before she could act on her rage-fueled plan a book suddenly arched through the air and struck the demon in the eye. It squealed with rage, stunned, as the Eva darted past it with a yelp of terror and disappeared into the maze. Ambrosia took the opportunity to follow, but not before giving it a nip on the heels to remember her by.

 

     Thankfully, Eva seemed to know where she was going. She led the way through the twists and turns of stone passage.

 

      “And that was a library book too,” she moaned, gasping for air, “The librarian is going to kill me.”

 

     That’s what you’re worried about? Less talking, more running! Ambrosia thought, wishing she could voice her opinion. All she could do was bark and hope that Eva got the message. Soon, though, the thundering of hoofs grew fainter and more distant. They were losing their pursuers. But not for long. Is there any way to lose them for good? Can we even get out of here?

 

     Her thoughts screeched to a stop; Eva was no longer running at her side. She skidded to a halt and whirled around. Eva was leaning on the wall, panting with exhaustion. Her hand was skimming along the stone.

 

     “Hurry up!” the wizard barked, “we don’t have time to stop.”

 

     Eva reacted with only a quick glance. Her hand carefully moved across the old wall as she moved forward slowly, searching for something Ambrosia couldn’t see.

 

     “We used to come here all the time in Elementary School,” she said quietly, voice shaking, “You know, playing games; tag, hide-and-seek, and capture the flag... kid games. Almost every day after school we would be wandering through these walls." She paused, and then resumed her search. "I don't really know why I'm telling you this. It's not like you'll understand.”

 

     Ambrosia hardly thought this information was necessary, but her barks were ineffective.      

 

     “Of course, you know how kids are," Eva said with a slight grin, "they don’t always play fair."

 

     Her fingers ceased their search, pausing over a section of the wall. She began to rummage around in her jacket. For a moment Ambrosia thought that she was going to pull out another book, but instead she produced a thin metal object she jammed into a tiny gap the wizard hadn’t noticed before.

    

     Ambrosia darted the way they had come and peered around the corner. No sign of the demons, but they would be closing in soon. Not even a maze could mix up a pig demon’s nose for long. Killed in the middle of an old maze in the body of a dog. Not exactly the death I had been hoping for.

 

     “Got it!”

 

     Eva shoved at the wall and, to Ambrosia’s amazement, a section of the wall swung away. Together, the girls darted out into the cool night air. They had come out onto a street, which lay quiet and calm in the soft light of the streetlights. Ambrosia felt a thrill when she realized where they were. Her apartment was only a few blocks away.

 

     With an ancient scraping of stone Eva closed the door. By the time she looked up Ambrosia was already half way down the street.

 

     Ten minutes later they stood in front of a tall brick building. The demons hadn’t followed them.

 

     “Right,” Ambrosia said aloud, even though Eva couldn’t understand her, “let’s go.”

 

     They headed to the side of the building. As much as she would have loved to simply walk in the front door, it would have been unfortunate for a neighbor to notice them. The last thing she needed was animal control on her tail. Instead they stopped underneath the fire escape, which snaked up the side of the building with the ladder just out of reach overhead. Ambrosia shouldered aside an empty trash can to reveal a small orange rune etched in the brick. It was faded and scratched, but still usable whenever she needed a quick way in without alerting her neighbors.

 

     I hope this works. She set a paw against the rune, reaching for her core. It was still there, cool and unresponsive, but this time she could detect a slight warmth beneath the surface. It wasn’t the blaze she was used to, but it would have to do. Gritting her teeth from the effort, she reached for any scrap of magic she could manage to get. All she needed was a spark to activate the mechanism.

 

     A spark came. It rushed through her arm like a jolt of lightning, pouring into the rune and leaving behind a searing pain. She gasped, staggering back. This magic wasn’t warm and energetic like she was used to. This magic was malicious. She could almost feel its desire to char her flesh and fill her lungs with smoke. This wasn’t the first time she had come in contact with spiteful magic, but this was the first time it had come from her. A strange sense of betrayal burned her eyes.

 

     She barely heard the muffled metallic clang! as the ladder slid into place.

 

     “Woah!” Eva said, “What happened? How did—hey, uh, are you all right?”

 

     Ambrosia ignored her, staggering to the ladder. She felt drained of energy. Confused too; she could feel her core radiating malevolence, crouching like a cat ready to pounce. It almost seemed to be waiting for her to try more magic.

 

     She glared at the ladder, unsure of her next move. How was she going to climb like this? Her answer came when two arms wrapped themselves around her middle and lifted her into the air.

 

     “Hey!” she protested as Eva tucked her into her jacket, holding on with one arm as the other went up to grip the ladder.

 

     “You want to get up here, right little doggie? I mean, that’s the plan?”

 

     Ambrosia had to admit the girl was right. She reluctantly stopped her struggling and settled for a low growl in the back of her throat. Eva, surprised that the dog had listened to her reasoning, carefully lifted herself onto the ladder and struggled up the rungs. By the time they reached the first landing Ambrosia’s head was bruised from bumping into the metal and she was relieved to be dumped onto the metal floor.

 

     Eva crouched by the ladder, head in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she moaned, “I just followed a dog through the city while being chased by giant... pig... things! And you! You need to start acting more like a dog or the natural order is going to get confused. Next thing you know cats will be peeling bananas and parrots will join Congress. Listen to me! I’ve lost it. My mom’s right; I’ve been reading too many books. Hey, were are you going?”

 

     Ambrosia’s claws clicked on the metal as she made her way up the stairs, passing dark windows. No way am I going to be able to retract the ladder tonight. Hopefully I forgot to set the security spells, at least. She stopped a few floors up and felt a rush of triumph when she saw the runes on the windowsill still dark. Yes! I’ve never felt so great about neglecting my duties before.

 

     Eva was still babbling on. “I mean, if I told anyone what I was doing they would think I've gone crazy. Not that anyone would believe me. Hey, do I sound crazy to you? Look at me, I'm asking a dog... Maybe I have lost it.”

 

     Wouldn't surprise me, the wizard thought, rolling her eyes.

 

     It took a few minutes and a bit of help from Eva, but eventually Ambrosia managed to open the window and slip inside. She landed on her desk, stepped around the clutter of paper and various magical knick-knacks, and hopped onto the floor.

 

     She breathed in the scent of old paper and tangerine. She wasn’t sure why those scents stood out as much as they did, but it felt natural. With her new senses everything blared in high definition; the faint rattling of the air conditioning, the snores of residents seeping through thin walls; old microwave meals painted the thought of food in her nose and the musty carpet beneath her toes told the tales of a dozen past residents.

 

     “Is this your home?” Eva said as she peeked her head through the window, “It’s, uh…kind of small.”

 

     Ambrosia shot her an annoyed look, but couldn’t argue. It was a rather cramped space, but it had all she needed. A tiny kitchenette was tucked in one corner and a musty couch squatted between two bookshelves, taking up a majority of the far wall. In another corner the carpet was pulled back to reveal a hard, rough surface scarred with deep burns and faded ruins. A short passage, sided by a bathroom and a diminutive bedroom, led to the hallway.

 

     She walked to the bookshelves that lined one of the walls, which were stuffed with everything from ancient urns to pockmarked yoyos, all mixed together with musty scrolls, moth-eaten cloth, and even the occasional book. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between magic and mundane. A broken watch on one shelf had ticked away the life of its previous owner for years until they simultaneously stopped, bound by magic, but a fantastic lamp with gold filigree and swooping runes had been bought at a garage sale for thirty cents; it was completely devoid of anything supernatural, but looked rather nice on her coffee table.

 

     “I guess it kind of fits, though, considering your size.”

 

     The wizard chose to ignore her, instead scanning the shelves. I know I have it somewhere, but where? Please tell me I didn’t get rid of it…

 

     Frustrated, she trotted to the bedroom. Before entering she glared back at Eva, who was looking around curiously. Now that she had accepted her supposed insanity she didn’t seem too bothered by anything. Instead she seemed curious.

 

     “You,” Ambrosia growled, “stay there. And don’t touch anything.”

 

     Her command was met with a blank stare. The wizard entered her poorly furnished room and ducked under the bed. She pulled out a box, flipped it open with her teeth, and peered inside. She was beginning to think that once this is all over she should have a garage sale. Years of collecting useless trinkets and slightly more useful rewards for civic duties had left her house rather cluttered.

 

     A rusty creak announced Eva plopping herself down on the old couch. “Huh, some of this stuff is kind of cool. Hey, what’s this?”

 

     She better not have her eyes on that genie lamp. If I have to deal with that thing one more time—ah hah! She let out a small sound of triumph, bending down to snatch up a thin brown band with orange rune glimmering across its surface. After a few moments she managed to get it to hang around her neck. And now a spark to activate the magic….No way I’m trying with my own again.

 

     A lumpy bag caught her eye among the rest of the box’s contents. She gripped it in her teeth and tried to shake out a few energy crystals. Small orbs about the size of marbles spilled onto the floor, gleaming with inner light, and fled across the room. She chased after one, feeling slightly ridiculous, and trapped it under her paws. The runes on the band began to glow when it brushed against the orb, draining the energy and leaving it clear and empty.

 

     At last, she thought as a tingling sensation washed across her neck. The band shrank, resting comfortably around her neck, and then began to thicken. The runes flickered with light, magic pumping across the surface. When the light finally faded the band had formed into a tough leather collar.

 

     “Right,” she said, enjoying the sound of her own voice—not barks, but words—being filtered through the collar, “I forgot that it was auto-fit. Nifty.”

 

     “Eep!”

 

     Ambrosia winced at the sound of glass hitting carpet.

 

     Eva’s voice floated in from the other room. “W-who’s there?”

 

     The wizard walked in, shooting an irritated look at the remains of one of her sandglasses on the floor. “Those are expensive, you know.”

 

     Eva stared.

 

     “Well?” Ambrosia prompted, finding a sadistic enjoyment in the girl’s shocked expression. “aren’t you going to apologize?”

 

     “Nrrg,” was all the girl could manage.

 

      “I can finally speak and that’s all you have to say? Must I remind you who is the non-human here? I’d be insulted if I cared more, but all I care about now is being able to talk. I’d never really appreciated vocal communication quite so much before now.”

 

     “Y-you,” Eva said, voice wavering, “you can talk.’

 

     “Very observant.”

 

     The girl plopped onto the couch, staring at Ambrosia like she had just grown a second head.

 

     "You can talk," she said again, as if the fact would make more sense the more she said it. Finally she took a deep breath, muttered something that sounded like a prayer under her breath, and stammered out, "we-well, why didn't you do it before?"

 

     "I hardly see how that matters," the wizard said, smugness draining, "I can talk now, and that means that I can tell you that we're done here. Go home and forget that this happened. If telling you that this was a dream helps, then this is a dream."

 

     With that she turned and headed for the bare corner of the room, where it seemed a small war had taken place. Startled by the abrupt end to the conversation, Eva hopped to her feet and hurried after the wizard.

 

     “Wait! What are you doing?”

 

     Ambrosia had become uncomfortably aware of how close the conversation had come to giving away valuable secrets. It didn’t matter that the girl wouldn’t truly believe what Ambrosia said—and even if she did, no one would believe her—but Ambrosia had no intentions of giving Eva any ideas.

 

     “You don’t need to know any of this stuff,” she said simply, “It won’t matter in a few hours. You won’t remember this as truth. Humans are good at rationalizing—amazing at it, in fact. That’s how we’ve kept a whole world under your noses for centuries. You look, but when you see something you don’t believe you rationalize your way out of it. After all, vampires don't walk the streets at night. Gargoyles don't blink. Ghosts never haunt the living.”

 

     “Why are you telling me this?”

 

     “Because you are not going to drag me into a conversation that will amount to nothing," she snapped, realizing that she wasn't doing a very good job at that, "and if you must know, I’m about to write up a reverse spell to get me back to normal.”

 

    She sat in front of the bare floor, glancing back at the bookshelves. Let’s see, I’ve got everything I need. Lilac, newt tails, and a Fig Newton bar. With my current lack of magic two energy orbs should be enough. Now all I need is to write it out. Now, how did it go…?

 

     Ambrosia’s thoughts skidded to a halt. It wasn’t that she had forgotten the spell. The runes were right on her mind, flaring in her vision like streetlamps. The problem was that she as missing something very critical.

 

     “Uh, are you alright?” Eva said after the wizard had not moved for some time.

 

     “No,” she said slowly, “I am not alright. I have not been alright since the start of this night. I’ve been turned into a mutt, chased by pig demons, and questioned by a high schooler who, I am convinced, is two crayons short of a box. And now I don’t have my chalk.”

 

     “Your…chalk?”

 

     “I use to draw runes.” With a sharp growl she said, “I must have left it at the school when I was, uh—well, I don’t have it. Just what I need to top of this perfect night.”

 

     A confused look crossed Eva's face. “Do you need it?”

 

     “No, but it’s been spelled. Runes drawn by it conduct magic more than runes drawn by most things, and without my magic I’m not quite sure I can make the energy transfer smooth enough to make the reverse spell work. At least, not without spending three hours trying draw out a spell that channels energy well enough to make up for the lack of available magic. I knew I should have gotten more energy orbs.”

 

     Eva didn’t see to follow the explanation at all. Suddenly her eyes widen. “Wait, school? What time is it? No, it doesn’t matter. I’m dead either way! Kyle is going to kill me for being gone so long! I probably missed my next shift!”

 

     She quickly started for the door, but then spun on her heel and looked to the window nervously.

 

     “Are they still out there?”

 

     Ambrosia went to the window, hopping onto the desk and breathing in the night air. “No,” she said, “they went past a while ago.”

 

     She tried not to wonder how she knew this, trying to ignore the myriad of scents barraging her nose as they all tried to tell her tales of where they had been and why. Eva still looked worried, so the wizard snatched a small pink bottle from a bookshelf and set it in front of her.

 

     “Here,” she said, “spray a bit on you.”

 

     “What is it? Some kind of magic potion? Will it make me invisible?”

 

     “Actually it’s perfume. A client gave it to me for getting a goblin out of her garden.” 

 

     Eva stared at the small bottle.

 

     “I think it’s strawberry,” Ambrosia said helpfully, “look, with this the demons won’t be able to smell you. But even if they did, they probably wouldn’t bother you. Lesser demons aren’t exactly known for their good memory. By tomorrow you’ll just be a scent that mixed a bit with their prey. But if it makes you feel better, spray away.”

 

     With one last dubious look at the girl carefully sprayed the bottle. She wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t smell like strawberry.”

 

     “Cry me a river.”

 

     “You know, for a talking dog you’re kind of rude. I always thought cats were the snarky ones.”

 

     Ambrosia didn’t needed to be reminded of cats at the moment. She merely swished her tail at the door, hoping Eva would get the point. She did. When she was halfway to across the room, however, she hesitated.

 

     “Can I at least get your name?”

 

     It was Ambrosia’s turn to hesitate. She paused only for a moment before she hopped up onto her desk, pawing at one of the small cards piled in the corner and managing to grip the edge in her teeth. She held it out, feeling a bit of satisfaction. She wasn’t sure why, but this was one of her favorite parts of the job.

 

     Eva took it, bemused. Her eyebrows slowly rose as she read the card aloud. “‘Ambrosia Wilder, Bounty Hunter. Affiliated with the Magic Council.’ You’re a bounty hunter?”

 

     “One of the best in the city.” And one of the only in the city.

 

     “And you have a business card?”

 

     “Of course. Every self-respecting bounty hunter has one. No time for introductions when you’re stabbing vampires.”

 

     “Very funny," Eva said, crossing her arms. She seemed much calmer than before. "It would be more believable without the whole “Magic Council” thing. It’s kind of, uh, silly. Couldn’t you come up with a better name?”

 

     “Hey, it’s real! In fact it used to be called the “Whitebeard Council” but people started protesting. Mainly, you know, wizards without beards. Anyway, shouldn’t you be going somewhere?”

 

     Eva let out a yelp and darted out the door, letting it slam shut behind her. Her footsteps gradually faded. Ambrosia stayed still until they completely disappeared, and then looked down at her hands. They were still paws. Wiggling them, she felt the wooden desk against the pads of her toes. This wasn’t going to simply go away—somehow, this was something she knew. And thanks to this distraction she had abandoned a mission before it was complete.

 

     Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything. She let her eyes rest on the phone on her desk, not bothering to fight back a groan. This is not going to be a pleasant conversation. I hope Ralf is still up.     

5: Chapter 5

     The pale light of sunrise weaseled its way through the half-drawn curtains of the apartment as Ambrosia paced back and forth on the cramped kitchenette counter. Cereal sat scattered in front of her, the box lying on the floor amongst a pool of fallen cornflakes. In her current body breakfast, like everything else, had been hard to produce. Her mind was racing, but her limbs ached with fatigue. She began to wish that she had nabbed more than a few hours of sleep.

 

     "You seriously haven't found anything yet?" she said into the phone lying beside her.

 

     "Be patient, Ambrosia," Ralf said, "I haven't had much time to research. Besides, we just submitted the sighting forms a few hours ago. The Council hasn't gotten back to me with anything about the blood wizard sighting or the shade."

 

     "Forms, documents -- this job has too much paperwork."

 

     "I don't see why you're complaining; in your current situation I have to do all the desk work."

 

     At least one good thing came out of her lack of thumbs. She snorted, "It's not worth the trouble."

 

     A thoughtful silence stretched before them. She could hear the rustling of paper on his side. The sun, which usually brought her energy and relief, weakly climbed its way into the cold morning sky. Its pale light only seemed to make her more impatient. Her pacing increased.

 

     Ralf finally said, "What are you going to do now?"

 

     "Go to the school, get my chalk, and see if I can reverse all this nonsense."

 

     "Think it will be that simple?"

 

     She chuckled wryly. "No. When is anything easy?"

 

     There was another silence filled only by distant birdsong and rumbling cars. At last Ralf said, "Are you scared?"

 

     Terrified. "Of course not."

 

 

 

 

 

     Despite her earlier unrest Ambrosia was glad for the chill morning sunlight as she trotted down the cracked sidewalk, largely ignored by the pedestrians passing by. They didn't seem to notice her uncoordinated movements, unfamiliar with the body she was in, or the way that she had an aura bigger than herself. Her collar seemed to mark her as simply a strolling pet, needing nothing more than a cursory glance. More likely, though, was that the people of this cloudy city were simply accustomed to strange happenings and didn't find a wandering dog anything unusual.

 

     She followed the directions Ralf had given her and soon arrived at the gate to the school grounds, refreshed from her walk. Shaking off the last of sleep, the wizard scanned her target. Half a dozen cars rested in the parking lot tucked against one side of the building. She could see movement in one of the windows. Her fur bristled with annoyance. Who came to school on the weekend?

 

     Her annoyance was amplified when she spotted a girl sitting against a tree just inside the gate, a book in her hands and a half-filled trash bag at her feet. She would recognize that freckled, bespectacled face anywhere.

 

     "Somehow I feel like you planned this," Ambrosia growled, trying to keep her voice low.

 

     Eva's head shot up to stare at her in a mixture of wonder and triumph, as if she had succeeded in an impossible goal. "Oh, hey! You came."

 

     "Two questions; one, how did you know that I was going to be here and two, why do you care? Also, shouldn't you have better things to do than stalking a magic dog? Like hanging out with friends or any of that normal teenager stuff?"

 

     "That would require friends," the girl said, hopping to her feet, "besides, you're more interesting."

 

     Her eyes narrowed. "Gee, thanks. That's one down." 

 

     "Well, I figured you were going to be coming back to get your chalk thing so I volunteered to help clean up after the carnival and, uh, here I am. I thought I could help you out.”

 

     Instead of answering Ambrosia turned and marched towards the school, ignoring the girl. Eva hurried after her.

 

     “Hey, come on, I think I could—”

 

     “Look, I don’t want your help. I don’t want anyone’s help. I can handle this on my own. Anyway, you shouldn’t be dwelling into this stuff. The magical world is dangerous, especially for someone without magic.”

 

     “Well, could I learn magic?”

 

     “Well, everyone has the ability to—I mean, no!” She shot the girl a glare. “Just go back to your normal life and forget I exist. I am not helping you become some super wizard to fulfill any stupid fantasies of yours.”

 

     “Not even the cool ones?” Eva joked.

 

     “Especially not the cool ones.”

 

     Her path was suddenly cut off as Eva stepped in front of her, hands held up in a pleading gesture. “Come on, let me come,” she said, “I can help.”

 

     “What makes you think you can help me in any way?”

 

     “Because I know where your chalk is.” She slipped a key out of her pocket. “and I can get you in.”

 

     Ambrosia glared at her for a long moment, weighing her options. She could either let this girl assist her and dig them both deeper into trouble, or she could continue with her poorly made plan of wandering around the school and potentially get caught. She gave in with a sigh. “Fine. But you do what I tell you. Got it?”

 

      Eva, a grin plastered on her face, nodded vigorously and followed the wizard towards the school. Ambrosia was already regretting allowing her to come, but she had wasted enough time already. Besides, it would have been difficult to get into the building without someone to open the door. She had spent most of the morning trying fruitlessly to get her magic to work without it attacking her. That meant unlocking spells weren’t going to be useful. For once in her life she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to rely on magic. That thought terrified her.

 

     She shook off her fears as they approached the school and slipped inside. Eva led the way through the winding halls, stopping only once to duck into the bathroom when a janitor passed, and eventually they stopped in front of a room with the word “storage” in bold black writing across the door.

 

     “This is where they put some of the stuff from the carnival,” Eva explained, “It’s also where the lost-and-found stuff are stored during the weekend. Hopefully they put your chalk in here instead of throwing it away.”

 

     Ambrosia nodded. She expected Eva to take out the key again, but instead the girl produced a series of small metal instruments from her pocket. 

 

     “What are you doing?” she asked.

 

     “Um. I’m going to pick the lock.”

 

     Ambrosia shook her head. “Picking the lock? Why on earth would you pick the lock when you have the key?”

 

     “Oh,” Eva said in a poor attempt at sounding casual, setting to work on the lock, “that was my house key. I, uh, figured you cooperate if you didn’t think I had a definite way in. Sorry about that. This will just take a few minutes.”

 

     Ambrosia wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact that Eva had read her so easily or the fact that she was right.

 

     “Do I even want to know why you can pick locks?” she snapped.

 

     “Probably not.”

 

     A few minutes later there was a click! and the door swung open. They stepped inside a cramped room filled with boxes. Shelves lined the walls. Ambrosia’s nose picked up the scent of mildew and paint, among hundreds of other smells.

 

     “Remember,” she said, “orange chalk.”

 

     The pair spread out. Ambrosia sniffed at the boxes, searching for the now familiar scent of tangerine and smoke that seemed to come with most of her magical items. If her chalk was here, she would theoretically be able smell it. It took quite a lot of concentration to not think about how strange that sounded. She could hear Eva rummaging around beside her.

 

     They couldn’t have been searching for more than a few minutes before the faintest squeak of a wheel alerted her to a presence. She spun around, fur bristling, to see a figure in the doorway. Her eyes took in dark skin, dark eyes, and dark, grey-speckled hair. His attire hinted that he was a teacher—though why he bothered with a tie on the weekend was beyond her—and two gloved hands rested on the arms of his wheelchair.

 

     “Ah,” he said, “I was wondering when you were going to show up again.”

 

     “M-Mr. Bedell!” Eva sputtered, “W-we can explain—I mean, I can…there’s no way to save this situation, is there?”

 

     But he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on Ambrosia. She stared back, trying not to look like she was about to bolt out the door. A mental escape plan was already unraveling in her head. If she could startle him she might be able to slip past into the hall, and then a left around the corner…

 

     He interrupted her thoughts with a low, warm voice. “I saw you last night, little wizard. I knew what you were from the moment I spotted you. But don’t worry, I'm not here to hurt you. There’s little point in making an enemy.” He chuckled dryly. “I knew you would be showing up again. Fate would not be kind enough to let an old man live his life in peace.”

 

     “Mr. Bedell?”

 

     He finally noticed Eva and a warm smile lit his face. “Ah, Eva! I should have known you would be the first to get involved with this. Even though you claim to avoid conflict at all costs these kinds of things always seem to happen around you anyway. Though, this is a bit new.”

 

     Ambrosia snuck a glance at Eva to see that her face was pink. The wizard gave her a questioning glance.

 

     “He’s my math teacher,” Eva mumbled, barely audible.

 

      Somehow he knew what she was. She hadn’t thought that mind reading was normal criteria for math teachers.

 

     “Come now, little wizard. There’s no need to remain mute; I’m here to help. Perhaps I can get you back into your own skin?”

 

     As if to prove that he meant no harm he took an item from his pocket and held it out. It was her chalk.

 

     “Hey!” she snapped as he slid it back into his pocket.

 

     “Follow me.”

 

     Without another word he backed up and wheeled down the hall. She could hear him as he disappeared from view, the squeaking of his wheelchair as clear in her mind as a visual image. For reasons she couldn't imagine the sharp, clear scent of ozone stung her nose.

 

     She didn’t move, however, until Eva scrambled after her teacher and left the young wizard alone. Only then did she reluctantly step into the hall and follow, trotting to keep up. She didn't know why she followed; it was pure madness.

 

     “What makes you think I need help, anyway?” she asked tersely, muscles tensed to fight at any moment, “this could be my normal form, after all. I’m sure a seasoned expert such as yourself would be familiar with how diverse the bodies of magic users can be.”

 

     She was making a few assumptions, hoping to garner information, but he simply smiled and said, “You don’t seem comfortable in your skin.”  

 

     Well, that didn’t explain a thing.

 

     Eva found her voice. “Where are we going, Mr. Bedell?”

 

     “Well, I was hoping we could find somewhere a bit more comfortable to talk. I, for one, don’t want to have a chat in the middle of a cramped storage room. And to save us all the trouble I won’t ask how you got in.”

 

     Eva suddenly found the ground very interesting.

 

     “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what you know and how you know it,” Ambrosia said.

 

     “I am, as you put it, rather seasoned in the magical arts. I’ve done quite a lot of work as a spellwright, along with other wizardly duties. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you too know about how wizards function. And you know that we don’t like to give our secrets.”

 

     “Especially when those wizards are trying to kill you.”

 

     “I promise you that I mean no harm.”

 

     “Well, if you promise me it must be fine. I mean, only if you’re really sincere can you do that.”

 

     His expression was a mix of amusement and annoyance when he said, “Let me guess, you were cursed.”

 

     She fell silent.  

 

     “Yes, someone with a mouth like yours is likely to be cursed. I’ve seen it before.”

 

     “It’s not my fault that not everyone has a sense of humor. And you never really told us where we’re going.”

 

     “So you are willing to come?”

 

     “That depends; why do you want to help me? That is, if you’re not planning to stab me in the back.”

 

     “I assure you that I would have done it already if that was my plan,” he said with a smile, “Mostly I am curious. These days we rarely get any curiosities around; so when a wizard-turned-canine shows up you can’t blame me too much for wanting to know what happened. Anyway, I’m getting old. With age comes the responsibility to help and teach the youth of this world.”

 

     Somehow Ambrosia didn’t think that curiosity played such a large part as he suggested; not with how resigned he looked when he first spoke to them. He seemed to think this as some kind of duty.

 

     “Heaven forbid you can’t fulfill your duty,” she said dryly.

 

     “Eva should understand. After all, I have no doubt that curiosity played a large role in why she is here with you.”

 

     “Ha!" the young wizard said, sending a triumphant leer Eva's way, "I knew you didn’t come because you wanted to help!”

 

     Eva flushed even deeper, if that was possible. “C-can you blame me? A whole new world of possibilities had opened up in front of me and you expect me to just leave it?”

 

     “If you have any sense, yes. Did you miss the angry demons that almost skewered you?” 

 

     “Uh, occupational hazard?”

 

     “An occupational hazard with a 30% chance of death!"

 

     “Are those official statistics?”

 

     Ambrosia shot her a glare. “Are you being stupid on purpose or does it come naturally?”

 

     “It’s a gift.”

 

     “Ladies,” Mr. Bedell said, “as interesting as this is, I need to grab a few things from my classroom before we go. Wait here.”

 

     He wheeled away, leaving the girls alone in the hallway.

 

     “He’s not lying, you know,” Eva said quietly.

 

     “You can’t trust him just because you think you know him.”

 

     She shrugged, slipping her book out from under her jacket and flipping it to a page at random. “I’m pretty good at telling if people are lying. He’s telling the truth when he says he want to help us.”  

 

     “So when is he lying?”

 

     “I’m not sure. It’s like he’s telling us half-truths and I can’t always decipher which part is the “truth” and which part is, er…fudging. Here, look at this.”

 

     Ambrosia looked towards the page she held open. It was a dragon, drawn in crimson and gold with fiery red eyes that leered off the paper.

 

     “Can you look at this an expect me to walk away?” Eva said softly, “To leave when dragons and ghosts wander the streets right under my nose? I can’t go back to normal life because it’s too late. Because I already know and I’ll never be able to forget. Besides, I was mixed up in this madness long before you came along.”

 

     Ambrosia was silent.

 

     "I need this, Ambrosia. I need to know that I'm not crazy."

 

      Before the wizard could reply Mr. Bedell returned. He gave the girls a quizzical look, but neither could meet each others eyes. Ambrosia was having trouble believing that she was going through with this. She was leaving behind the rules she had lived by for the past year to garner assistance from a young mundane and following a strange man with little protection at her back. What would her father think?

 

     Her thoughts swarmed as Mr. Bedell led the way into the nearly deserted parking lot. Instead of going to a car he stopped by the entrance and glanced at his watch.  

 

     “He’s late,” the teacher murmured.

 

     As he spoke a bright red van pulled up beside them. One of the windows rolled down and the driver leaned out the window, a grin on his face.

 

     “Hey Barry,” the man said, “I see we’ve got some company.”

6: Chapter 6

     Ambrosia did not have much experience with cramped, awkward car rides; her experience in Mr. Bedell's van only cemented a desire to keep this a fact.

 

     Eva sat in the back, spending the entire trip looking confused and ready to burst with questions. Ambrosia sat beside her. She could feel the tension of four people in a cramped space, half of them strangers, with many things to say but little knowledge of what they could actually discuss. Mr. Bedell watched them from the rearview mirror as Ambrosia, with an occasional interjection from Eva, told a quick version of what had happened: of how she had stumbled upon the blood wizard and eventually Eva, and how she had been transformed into what she was now. He took it all in silence. Occasionally the driver would glance back at them with a bemused look.

 

     The driver was interesting, Ambrosia had to admit. He had introduced himself as Jack Dominic as they crawled into the vehicle, flashing the girls a blinding smile. A stern look from Mr. Bedell had subdued him. But his silence didn’t stop Ambrosia from seeing the edges of curled horns poking out from under his hat or the yellow, goat-like eyes half-hidden behind thick sunglasses.

 

     He was an strange choice for a carpool, to say the least. Ambrosia hadn't known satyrs to be the best drivers.

 

     They had just finished the story as Jack pulled into the driveway of a single story, light-blue house with clusters of flowers and herbs checkerboarding the small garden in front. The neighborhood appeared composed of similar houses, all quiet and friendly. For some reason it unnerved Ambrosia.

 

     “Well,” Jack said with another blinding smile, “I have to go back to work. Unless you want me to…?”

 

     “No, you should get back to work. The last thing I need is for you to cause more trouble.” Mr. Bedell gave his friend an exasperated look, a faint smile in the corner of his mouth.

 

     The driver put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “Me, cause trouble? Barry, you wound me.”

 

     With a quick, tired smile Mr. Bedell opened his door and a few minutes later the trio made their way into his house, the faint sound of crunching gravel sharp in their ears.

 

     One thing Ambrosia had quickly begun to detest about her new body was the lack of height. Not only did she have to crane her neck up to look at anyone, but furniture tended to loom over her in a way that made her feel uncomfortably small. Because of these reasons she was thankful for the low coffee table that dominated the living room of Mr. Bedell’s house. She hopped up, feeling like she was at a more comfortable height. Head flickering back and forth as she surveyed her teacher’s house, Eva sat onto the couch behind the table and Mr. Bedell settled in front of them, between the girls and a large bookshelf that covered most wall, which was the same calming blue as most of the walls they had seen.

 

     “So,” he said, steepling his fingers. “You were cursed by a mysterious blood mage.”

 

     “That shrimpy shade was the one who did the actual cursing, but yeah. It’s all a huge pain, if you ask me. What do you think you can do about it?”

 

     “I am a wizard specializing in the crafting and composition of spells. If there’s any way to change you back, I’m confident I can find it. Eva!”

 

     She started, practically leaping out of her seat. “Y-yes?”

 

     “How did you get wrapped up in all this? Ambrosia gave us a quick explanation, but I’d like to hear it from your point of view.”

 

     Ambrosia, sensing a boring conversation coming on, hopped off the table and went to investigate the house. A wizard’s house is often interesting, even if they are masquerading as human, for wizards tended to accumulate trinkets and bobbles that were either spelled for various uses or used in magic. Many were useless, as most trinkets are, but others had spells that were useful for everyday life, such as lighting the bathroom with the snap of fingers or making the weather steer towards clear skies. Ambrosia saw dozens of books lining the hallways and scattered around the house. Somewhere, she knew, there was a bookshelf or two filled to the brim with spellbooks.

 

     She paused in a small room off the side of the central hallway, filled with bookshelves and dusty statues. One figure in particular drew her forward. It was a little stone angel, hands folded in prayer. She sniffed at its wings, which were covered in what looked like real wings, and sneezed as dust invaded her nostrils. 

 

     Ugh, great idea there Ambrosia. She sat and rubbed at her nose with a paw, glaring at the angel. It looked almost smug.

 

     By the time she wandered back into the living room Eva seemed to have wrapped up her side of the tale. Mr. Bedell must have had a soothing effect on her, because she looked calm. As she passed Mr. Bedell to sit by the girl, Ambrosia felt something click into place. A piece of the puzzle finally slid into its slot.

 

     Eva gave her an inquiring look, an eyebrow half-quirked, as she hopped onto the couch. Ambrosia simply smirked.

 

     “Welcome back,” Mr. Bedell said. “I was just telling Eva here my phone number so that you two can contact me if you need help after this.”

 

     Ambrosia grinned. “Help, eh? Trying to be our guardian angel, I see. Earning your wings?”

 

     To his credit, Mr. Bedell only raised an eyebrow.

 

     Eva, who seemed to understand that there was a deeper implication in her words but couldn’t quite grasp the meaning, looked between them with confusion. Bewilderment seemed to be her default expression.

 

     “Next time you want to pass as human don’t leave a book entitled Posing as Humans for Dummies; Angel Addition in the middle of your dining room,” Ambrosia said, leaning back smugly. “Also, you may be able to hide your wings, but you can’t hide the smell of feathers.” Of course, I didn’t even realize that feathers had a smell until now, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

     Mr. Bedel looked as if she had just shared the weather report. “I see you are getting comfortable with your body’s senses.”

 

     “Hey, don’t change the subject.”

 

     “Excuse me,” Eva said, and then flushed when their attention turned to her. “Is anyone—can someone tell me what’s going on? What exactly are you accusing my teacher of being?”

 

     “I’m not accusing anything. I know what he is, and so does he, so let’s not bother acting like I’m not some kind of awesome super-detective.”

 

     “Heaven forbid we not recognize your prowess,” Mr. Bedell said dryly.

 

     “You would know a lot about Heaven, wouldn’t you?”

 

     He let out a sound that faintly resembled a groan. Ambrosia knew that she was going to enjoy this, especially considering how lost Eva looked.

 

     “I think we owe Eva here an explanation," the teacher said with a sigh. "I have a feeling that this is going to be a long day, so let’s move to the kitchen. Tea?”

 

     Ambrosia hesitantly sniffed the cup in front of her. The liquid inside smelled strongly of peppermint. She had an intense distrust for mint, and consequently felt a deep suspicion for anything that smelled like it belonged in a toothpaste container.

 

     Beside her Eva sipped her own cup and looked questioningly at Mr. Bedell. "What are you doing?"

 

     He tipped the top off of a foul-smelling brew simmering on the low-set stove and peered inside. Seeming satisfied, he turned back to them and said, "Just a little something to help us. Now, I suppose I owe you an explanation."

 

     Eva nodded eagerly.

 

     "I want to hear your hypothesis."

 

     Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "You want me to guess?"

 

     "I do. After all, I am a teacher."

 

     Eva had the look of someone who knew they were about to say something crazy but couldn't stop herself. "Ambrosia thinks you're an angel."

 

     He smiled.

 

     "What, really? She's right? Aren't you supposed to have wings or something? I mean, no offense, but you don't really seem..." she eyed him warily. "Angel material."

 

     "I didn't think my lectures were that bad."

 

     "S-sorry sir, I just don't normally suspect heavenly beings to have the title of "math teacher" on their resume. Shouldn't you be, I don't know." She waved her hand lamely. "Doing divine things?"

 

     "To be fair I'm not exactly what you would think of as an "angel" by today's standards."

 

     "We're not going to get a whole history lesson, are we?" Ambrosia asked impatiently.

 

     "I'll make it quick. Eva, what do you think an angel looks like?"

 

     "My math teacher, apparently."

 

     Ambrosia smirked into her tea.

 

     "Eva," the teacher said sternly.

 

     "Sorry. Angels are usually depicted as handsome with white wings and glowing halos above their heads, right?"

 

     "Correct. At least, the last two parts are correct. The first is debatable. The wings and halo is true—it is, anyway, for us earthly angels. I'm afraid to inform you that we have no connection to any divine being from above. Whether we did at any point—or whether there are true heavenly angels in some other plain—is debatable. We do, however, make heavenly tea."

 

     Eva chuckled nervously.

 

     "Our names are derived from our "angel-like" attributes. Historically my people have been known for their technical skill when it comes to magic and spellwriting, as well as our quiet helpfulness towards other species."

 

     "By "quiet" he means that they refused to communicate with humans for 500 years," Ambrosia piped in.

 

     "Well, yes. And this did nothing but add to the thought that these mysterious, powerful creatures were somehow sent from above. They called them angels, and my people did little to disaffirm these rumors so the name stuck. What do you think?"

 

     Eva opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted as the brew let out a shrill hiss. Mr. Bedell quickly snatched it off the stove and peered inside. 

 

     "All done," he said. "Shall we?"

 

     Ambrosia nodded eagerly and left her cold tea to follow the man down the hall. They entered a circular room lined with bookshelves and diagrams. She couldn't recognize most of the spells; they were written in a neater and more effective dialect than the one she used, which was used for quick, simple drawing and took more energy. The room smelled heavily of ozone.

 

     A bemused Eva hovered by the doorway as Mr. Bedell set the pot on a wide table in the center, dipped in a thin paintbrush, and began to write. Hopping onto a chair and setting her paws against the table, Ambrosia watched runes flow from his fingertips. They were an older style, like the ones the blood wizard used, but he worked quickly and efficiently. The mixture from the pot was a smooth green liquid that smelled of herbs.

 

     "What are you doing?" Eva whispered after a few minutes.

 

     "Advanced physics," Ambrosia grumbled sarcastically.

 

     Eva opened her mouth to ask again but seemed to think better of it and merely said, "Well, what's that smelly stuff?"

 

     "Full of questions, aren't you?"

 

     "She's always a curious student," Mr. Bedell commented as he worked. "This mixture is one of my patented spell writing inks. I've learned that these ingredients are perfect for creating examination spells."

 

     "It smells like a witch's brew," Eva said.

 

     Ambrosia shook her head. "Same concept, but unless you want to get turned into a toad I suggest you resist the urge to call any magic-user a "witch." It's not exactly a friendly term these days."

 

     Eva paled just as Mr. Bedell completed his work with a flourish and said, "Finished! Ambrosia, if you will?"

 

     Ambrosia hopped onto the table and carefully made her way to the circle in the spell, taking care not to step on any of his work. He moved around the table, making a few adjustments to the complex runes, before stopping on the other side of his handiwork. When Ambrosia nodded he set his palm in a hand shaped space.

 

     The smell of ozone flooded the room. Ambrosia watched as sky-blue light spread along the runes, extending from his hand like ink on a page. The light swept closer and closer to her circle. She closed her eyes just as it struck. A probing sensation hit her like a brick, surprising her with its intensity. She could feel the spell poke and prod at her, searching her being for the curse currently plaguing her existence. Her first instinct was to fight it, but she forced herself to accept the examination. After a few uncomfortable moments, the sensation faded. There was a gentle hum in the air and then Eva gasped.

 

     Ambrosia looked up. Pale blue runes were being projecting above, spread across most of the ceiling. It was in the vague shape of barbell, with two circles of runes being connected by a skinnier bridge. It felt strange to be looking at the spell that had caused her so many problems. She wished she could reach up and sweep it away, but the runes on the ceiling were simply a projection.

 

     Mr. Bedell let out a low whistle, moving around the table to get a better look. "This is amazing! I haven't seen a spell like this in quite some time. Look at all those complex equations! Whoever made this must have spent ages on it. There's so many subtle tweaks—a stronger stomach, sharper teeth, even a diminishment in color blindness!"

 

     "Well I'm glad one of us is enjoying this," Ambrosia muttered under her breath.

 

     The teacher ignored her, eyes glued to the spell. "I've seen a few therianthropy spells in my day, but this is one of the most impressive. And some of these ruins suggest that it has been adjusted recently—perhaps within the last century or so."

 

     Eva snapped out of her amazed stupor to look at him with curiosity. "Therianthropy? You mean she's a werewolf?"

 

     "I'm a what?"

 

     "Not exactly," Mr. Bedell said quickly, "Therianthropy refers to any type of werecreature, from werecats to werebirds. This is a case of cyanthropy—human-to-dog transformation."

 

     "OK, so how do I turn back? Can I only do it on the full moon or something?" Ambrosia mentally calculated the moon cycle, pleasantly surprised that it just a few days away.

 

     He shook his head. "As long as you have enough energy you should be able to transform at any time."

 

     From his pocket he pulled a small laser pointer. What, does he just carry those things around?

 

     "These spells are made up of three components," he said, swinging the light across the ceiling. "These two larger portions on the ends contain the runes depicting your two forms—human and animal. Eva, you can think of them as akin to complex math formulas depicting the dimensions of an object, but much more complicated. The act of creating these is the reason that therianthropy is so difficult and why the spells are considered sacred. The third component is this bridge here, which contains the runes for transforming back and forth between the forms."

 

     Ambrosia thumped her tail on the table, getting impatient. "This is fascinating and all but..."

 

     "Patience, Ambrosia. You can't access the spell now, can you?"

 

     She closed her eyes to search her core, but quickly opened them and shook her head.

 

     "I'm not surprised. A spell forced onto you is often hard to control, and with the magical trouble you're having it's not shocking that you're having issues. I suspect that your trouble stems from the fact that your mind is not at ease with your body, making your magical core untrusting and hostile. But that's not the main problem."

 

     Without another word he swept the pointer across the ceiling and circled the "bridge" portion. Ambrosia's heart sunk. The runes were smudged and faded, as if they had been run through a washing machine. With this damage there was no way the transformation would work.

 

     "Seems like your spell has been tampered with," Mr. Bedell said.

 

     They sat in silence for a few moments. Finally Ambrosia said with her last shred of hope, "Can you fix it?"

 

     "Perhaps eventually, but I'll need some time to look at it. The damage is pretty heavy."

 

     Eva finally spoke. "Do you need that part of the spell? I mean, if you could replace it or something..."

 

     The pointer moved again, this time to one of the circular shapes. A large portion of the center was taken up by a single rune—a padlock-like letter, signifying encrypted information.

 

     "This is the human component. When the shade put the spell on you it took a snapshot of your current form so that you could turn back any time. For the sake of protection it is usually encrypted so that only the spell caster can use it. But since you weren't the one to cast the spell..."

 

     "Even if we fix the transformation spell, I still wouldn't be able to turn back. And we can't even use this "snapshot" with another spell to regain my body because the information is hidden. What now?"

 

     Mr. Bedell sighed. "Go home. Get some rest. I'll take another look at this spell and get back to you. Mind you, I'm not the spellwrit I used to be. I may need to brush up on a few things. Until then I suggest you stay out of trouble."

 

     "That's never been a strong point of mine. What are we going to do about her?"

 

     Eva pointed to herself, realizing who Ambrosia was talking about, and squeaked "Who, me?"

 

     The teacher sighed. "Eva, why don't you check to see if Jack has come home yet. I need to talk to him."

 

     After a moment's hesitation Eva nodded and headed down the hallway, giving them one last look that suggested she knew she was getting brushed off.

 

     When the door closed Ambrosia said, "You have clearance for memory-wiping spells, right? Because I'm only allowed to do them in emergencies and I don't think I can count this as one quite yet—at least not pertaining to her."

 

     He shook his head. "I'm sorry Ambrosia, but I'm not going to wipe her memory."

 

     "What? Why not? You'd be saving us all a world of trouble."

 

     "For one, memory wiping is dangerous. It can cause memory problems and major brain issues. I don't want to risk that with one of my best students. Besides, I think that she may become very well adjusted to the magical world if given a chance. I've gotten whiffs of magic from her throughout the time I've taught her. She may prove to be a valuable ally."

 

     "She's a teenager! I don't know about you, but I'm a bit too busy to teach a teenager how to survive in the magical world. It's dangerous. You know that."

 

     He rubbed his forehead. "We'll discuss this more later. But for now she stays. Besides, I think you might make use of a couple hands around, since you currently have none."

 

     "I don't need help. Especially not from her. Now, since we're done here." She hopped off of the table, flashing him a wicked smile. "I'm expecting a call, so I simply must be getting home."

 

     "Ambrosia," he said as she began to leave. She paused just as Eva was entering again, turning back to him.

 

     "What?"

 

     "Stay out of trouble."

 

     The bounty hunter stared at him for a few moments. Finally she smiled.

 

     "Don't worry," she lied smoothly, "I'll be an angel."

7: Chapter 7

            Ambrosia emerged into the smoky orange light of sunset. She ducked into the alley beside her apartment building and watched as pedestrians moseyed by in their everyday lives, unaware to the happenings of the fiery bounty hunter. Short, furry, and inconsequential, she was hardly given a glance. Though she often felt like blending in was more of a blessing than a curse, allowing her to work in the under weavings society without raising a red flag, it now made her feel small.

 

            I've probably saved your lives and you'll never know, she thought, seeing a couple waltz past with a droopy dog. They passed a vampire emerging from an inn, who yawned and squinted into the sunset. As Ambrosia watched he tucked up his collar, nodded absentmindedly to the passing couple, and made his way down the street. The bounty hunter shared a nod with him as well, but he hardly seemed surprised to scent such magic from an animal; it was all in the day of a magical creature.

 

            Stretching to relax her sore muscles, she hopped onto the sidewalk and made her way towards the setting sun. The route Ralf had given to her buzzed in her head. With no hands to write it down on, she would have to rely on her memory—which wasn't exactly her strong suit. She also had no way to use her motorcycle and booking a taxi didn't seem like a feasible option.

 

            Hitching-hiking doesn't feel like it would work either. Of course, truckers have probably seen stranger. Too bad there aren't many truckers in this place. Oh well. At least I'll have a chance to think on my—

 

            Her thoughts skidded to a halt as she bumped into a leg.

 

            "Hi Ambrosia," Eva chirped cheerfully.

 

            Curses. "What are you doing outside of my apartment building?"

 

            "Looking for you."

 

            "Oh, of course. I'm going to ignore the fact that I left you behind hours ago at Mr. Angel's place and ask you another question: why?"

 

            Eva paused, as if she hadn't quite thought this far. Instead of answering she asked, "Where are you going? It's getting kind of late."

 

            Ambrosia rolled her eyes. "I'm just going for a walk."

 

            "You're a bad liar."

 

            Ambrosia felt herself bristle. "I wasn't exactly asking for the Spanish Inquisition. Now if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to."

 

            She trotted stiffly past the girl, hoping she would take the hint. After a pause, however, footsteps followed behind her. She barely bit back a groan.

 

            "Mr. Bedell said not to get into trouble," Eva said.

 

            "So? He's not my teacher, nor my father. I don't have to do everything he says. I can handle myself. Besides, I'm not getting into trouble. I just have some investigating to do."

 

             "And you're going to walk? How far away is it?"

 

            Ambrosia felt heat rush to her face. That was the weak point in her plan. She couldn't force herself to admit how long she would be walking at this rate. Feeling Eva's curious silence burn into the back of her skull, she finally growled with frustration and whirled around to glare at the girl. "You got a better idea?"

 

            "Actually," Eva said brightly, "I think I might."

           

            "This is a horrible idea," Ambrosia grunted.

 

            Ching-ching! went the bright, happy bell of Eva's bike as she cycled down the street, following Ambrosia's vague instructions through the city. The bright pink of its polished metal stood out against the gloom of the coming evening and the city's natural drabness.

 

            The bounty hunter crouched deeper into the ribbon-covered basket that hung from the front of the bike, as if she could hide from the prying eyes of the world. Her face was flushed as she growled, "I'm beginning to wish I had walked."

 

            "Oh, but this is so much better! How lucky is it that I had this basket in my garage? When Mr. Bedell mentioned that you might have some trouble getting around I thought it was a brilliant idea."

 

            "I feel ridiculous."

 

            "You would probably feel better if you had agreed to wear the helmet."

 

            "I am a mighty bounty hunter, terror to all that oppose order and justice, a mighty warrior in the darkness of evil, and I refuse to wear a pink, frilly helmet designed for children."

 

            "But you'd look adorable!"

 

            Ambrosia let out a growl of frustration and sank deeper into the basket. "Just drive," she muttered.

 

            Eva took them deeper into the city, dodging pedestrians and fellow bicyclers until the people began to thin out and trees popped out among half-finished buildings and cracked concrete. Eva slowed as the city melted into a smattering of greenery, which soon gave way to a thick forest. They were forced to navigate by moonlight and the sharp beam of Eva's flashlight. Silver light filtered in from the thin canopy above, fueled by the slowly rising moon.

 

            Finally, after almost an hour of travel, Ambrosia signaled for her to pull over. The bike came to a stop by a colorful sign on the side of the road. The sign was old but well tended to, evident due to the fresh paint attempting to hide cracks in the wood.

 

            Eva shook her head, staring in bemusement. "Advertisement for a fortune teller? And all the way out here, too. Are we at the right spot?"

 

            "Yep," Ambrosia said as she hopped out of the basket, leisurely stretching her stiff legs. "Ralf called me this afternoon to give me a tip. Apparently this lady is the only one in town to have a dragon tooth on the market. The sale isn't legal, of course. Dragon teeth have been off the market for years."

 

            "Why?"

 

            "They're very powerful. People have spent centuries trying to take advantage of the teeth of some of the most magical and powerful creatures in existence. Many have been ground to dust or otherwise destroyed. Ever since the extinction of the dragons their teeth have been hard to come by. About thirty years ago the Council rounded up as many teeth as they could and locked them up, declaring their sale illegal. Personally, I think the whole thing is a bit ridiculous."

 

            "Wow," Eva said, enthralled by the idea of a magical black market.

 

            "Of course, you'll never be able to convince me that politics didn't play a huge part in the decision. The Council is pretty much a government for the magical part of America, and government is all politics. Personally I try to stay away from all that."

 

            Eva looked nervously down the lonely road where a light glimmered from around the bend, partially masked by trees. She shoved the bicycle deep into the undergrowth, effectively hiding it from the road. The wizard motioned for her to take a flashlight out of the pack the two of them had prepared and led the way towards the light. Eva gulped. The night was cool and crisp as it lost what heat it had retained from the day. The dim silver light of the moon made everything appear black and white, as the world had morphed into an archaic photograph. Her flashlight cast an alien yellow streak into the trees. From the forest a lonely owl hooted mournfully.

 

            Half way to the light Ambrosia stopped and looked into the forest. As if signaled, a figure emerged into the moonlight, melting from the trees like a ghost. Eva stepped back with a gasp.

 

            Ambrosia, however, smiled. "Sorry we're late, Ralf."

 

            The vampire's eyes had been narrowed, but now they widened at her voice. "Is that really you, Ambrosia?"
 

            "Of course it's me, you old bloodsucker. I told you I ran into some trouble, didn't I? You know, trouble that just happened to leave me without thumbs."

 

            "A blood wizard, sightings of a shade in town." He shook his head. "Someday you're going to have to tell me the whole story."

 

            "Well for now we'll have to get on with the job. This is the place, isn't it?"

 

            He nodded, eyes slipping to Eva. She took another step back.

 

            "She's with me," the wizard said, voice tightening.

 

            He shrugged, though tension was only growing in his shoulders. "Whatever you say, Ambrosia. She's obviously a mundane..."

 

            "And she's with me. Back off."

 

            He held up a hand in surrender. "Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of bothering a young lady in your company. Besides, I ate yesterday. I'm just glad to see you took my advice. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I didn't tell her that you were coming, but if she's the psychic she claims to be that shouldn't be much of a problem."

 

            "Thanks for the help, Ralf."

 

            "Are you sure you don't want any backup?"

 

            "This isn't official Council business, so I don't think I could get it anyway," she snorted, silently adding, Not like they were ever good at giving back up.

 

            With one last swish of her tail she turned and headed back towards the light. Eva remained frozen until Ralf disappeared back into the trees and then rushed after Ambrosia, remaining so close the wizard was afraid she would trip. She was about to snap at the girl to back up when they rounded the corner.

 

            An old, worn cabin sat snugly in front of the road, hugged on three sides by trees. The wood was painted a cheery white with purple and pink trims. A plethora of wind chimes and shiny baubles hung from every perceivable surface, calling to the girls from where they stood. The short path between the cabin and the road was practically hidden by a garden bursting with herbs and bright flowers, which bloomed despite the cold season and deepening night. Surrounded by gloom on all sides, the house seemed to have popped out from another dimension. 

 

            "Wow," Eva said again, staring at the house with wide eyes.

 

            The wizard cautiously led her towards the house, not trusting its cheeriness one bit. They passed the flower-print mailbox, stepped through the white picket fence gate, and dodged around the over affectionate plants to step onto the porch. Above it a sign happily proclaimed this to be the home of "The Great and Powerful Antevorta, Seer of the Mystic Future."

 

            Before they could even knock the door burst open and out came a plump woman who looked like she had stepped straight out of a carnival. Silk and shawls of all colors threatened to suffocate her and beads burst from every opening. No more than twenty necklaces made of beads and gleaming jewels hung from her neck. She was covered in purple and gold, gleaming beads and mystic trinkets. A golden band on her forehead kept the wild mane of ginger hair from spilling out onto her heavily make-upped face.

 

            Ambrosia rolled her eyes. She had almost hoped for a little originality.

 

            "Ah," the woman said in deep, warm voice, "there you are! Come in, come in; the kettle is on the stove."

 

            Eva blinked, startled. She obviously hadn't been prepared for an actual psychic. Ambrosia, however, wasn't impressed. If this lady had any real powers she had yet to show them. One simple fact made this obvious:

 

            Antevorta was looking at Eva, not Ambrosia.

 

            When neither girl gave any indication of responding the theatrical woman clapped her hands and stepped back into the house, waving them in. "Don't be shy. You came here for a reason, and I have the answers you seek."

 

            Eva glanced down. Thinking quickly, Ambrosia simply swished her tail in a half-hearted wag and did her best to look at Antevorta with the unintelligent look of a curious animal. In a surprising act of perception Eva stepped through the doorway, looked back at Ambrosia to say "come on, girl," and followed Antevorta into the house.

 

            Alright then, Ms. Psychic, let's see your true colors.

 

            The little wizard trotted after them. They walked through a short passage and entered into a dimly-lit room. Ambrosia was immediately hit by the overpowering scent of incense and lavender perfume. Red silk covered a table in the center of the room, upon which stood a crystal orb; Ambrosia's seasoned eyes identified it as a rather cheap model. Strings of white Christmas lights hung from the ceiling, acting as the room's only light source. An intricately woven curtain made up the far wall. Ambrosia thought that the room was rather over decorated, but Eva seemed enthralled.

 

            "Please make yourself comfortable while I get the tea," Antevorta said, disappearing behind the curtain.

 

            "What's with people and tea these days?" Ambrosia muttered as Eva pulled up a chair for her beside her own.

 

            "Forget the tea—what on earth are you doing? I didn't sign up for being a spokesman!"

 

            "Well you did want to be useful. Just play along."

 

            "But what am I supposed to—"

 

            She quickly fell silent as Antevorta swept back in with a tray, smiling to Eva as if she hadn't just been talking to herself. If she found anything strange about the girl's dog sitting in a seat beside her she didn't say anything. Instead she set the tray down, poured a cup of tea from the polished silver teapot, and sat down in front of her. Eva took the tea with a nervous smile.

 

            "So, dear," Antevorta said sweetly, "what brings you here today?"

 

            "Uh..." Eva snuck a glance at Ambrosia, who did he best to nod encouragingly. "I was hoping you could..."

 

            "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Antevorta, as you obvious know." She gave them a haughty smile.

 

            "M-my name's Eva, and this is... uh..."

 

            "Don't worry dear; there's no need to be shy. I understand that it can take a lot for a young person like you to seek the advice of a psychic, but I'm here to help."

 

            "R-right. This is my dog Nectar." Eva shot a panicked glance around the room, searching for something to say. "Can you tell me my fortune?"

 

            "Of course, dear—it's my specialty. Anything in specific?"

 

            When Eva shook her head the psychic reached for her crystal ball. Ambrosia thought she would look into it to see the future, but instead she set it aside and took out a flat, heavily decorated box with golden thread weaved into the gem-studded fabric surface. From this she took a deck of large tarot cards and shuffled them with practiced ease.

 

            "There will be three cards," she said slowly as the lights began to dim, "one for your past." She took a card from the bottom and set it face down on the table. "Your present." She pulled another card from the top. "And, of course, your future." She spread the rest of the cards out before her and beckoned Eva to take one. "Your past and your present are things that cannot be changed. They are set in stone. But your future is your own. You can shape it, change it. And that is why I put it in your hands."

 

            Eva gingerly took a card from the deck and set it beside the other two. With a secretive smile Antevorta ran her hand along the cards, flipping them face-up with deft movements of her fingers. Ambrosia leaned in to get a look at the designs. On one a young man stood with his back to a castle, sword lightly clutched in his hand, while in the card beside him the skeletal incarnation of Death brandished a shield and a deep black banner. The last card sent a shiver up Ambrosia's spine; a man in a flowing cloak watched the distant silhouette of a tall ship pass before him, an intricate wand clutched in his hand while two more wands sat in the grass. A wizard.

 

            "Interesting," Antevorta said as she gazed at the cards, her voice low and steady, "Your path is clear to me now. This is what the cards say: in the past you made a choice—a tough choice, and perhaps one you sometimes regret—and for a long time you have been looking for more results. It has been a frustrating and long wait. The consequences have come now, in the present, and they bring great changes to your life. Don't fight the changes, as they will grant greater strength in the future. As for this future..." She frowned, as if unsure of what she was reading. "You will face many great challenges, but if you abide by these changes you will gain experience to aid you. You may be scared, but regardless of the outcomes from your actions, you will be assured in the knowledge that you have done the best you could have."

 

            There was a pregnant pause. Eva chewed her lip, gazing intently at the cards. The air felt heavy with power. Ambrosia wasn't sure if it was really magic laying thick in the air or if Antevorta's theatrics were simply doing their job. Ambrosia didn't want to admit that she had caught up in the tarot reading. Psychics were all ridiculous to her, especially ones of dubious power levels.

 

            She nudged Eva under the table. The girl looked up in surprise, as if caught drifting off into another world, and shook herself slightly. She gave the wizard a subtle nod.

 

            "Excuse me," she said as Antevorta packed up her cards.

 

            "Yes, dear? Do you have a question about the reading?"

 

            "No, actually. I was wondering about something else."

           

            As they spoke Ambrosia slipped from her seat and snuck towards the curtain wall. The heavy scent of incense and perfume gave her a headache, and it only seemed to increase as she drew near. With one last look at the colorful woman, who was properly preoccupied, she peeked her head through the thick curtain.

 

            All she managed to see was a few boxes and a hallway leading elsewhere before she heard Antevorta snap, "Dear, could you please control you dog?"

 

            "S-sorry! Am—I mean, Nectar, come here!"

 

            The wizard grudgingly slipped back to the table, shooting the woman a glare. "Arf," she muttered bitterly.

 

            "As we were saying," Antevorta said quickly, "there was something else you wanted?"

 

            "Uh, yeah. I've heard that you have other services available, aside from fortune telling. I mean, if I can say..."

 

            "What other services are you referring to, dear?"

 

            "Er... well..." Eva fumbled with her words, unsure how to ask her outrageous question. Ambrosia rolled her eyes, impatient.

 

            "Look," Ambrosia snapped at last, "we know you have a dragon's tooth and we want it."

 

            There was a long pause.

 

            "Is that so?" Antevorta said, her voice slightly unsteady.

 

            "Yes ma'am," Eva said weakly. "We've heard that you have the only one in town. If you could be so kind as to let us have a look..."

 

            "Well, I didn't exactly expect to be having such... well, interesting visitors today. If I did, I would have been prepared. Perhaps done my hair better." She took a deep, steadying breath. "But nonetheless I suppose I can entertain you. What makes you believe that I have anything of the sort?"

 

            "Oh, don't give us that. You may be the Great and Powerful Antevorta, but you can't keep information from the Also Great and Indefinitely More Powerful Bounty Hunter Ambrosia Wilder!" She puffed out her chest.

 

            Antevorta's demeanor changed in an instant; she folded her hands and leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Bounty hunter, you say? Well, if that's true I may have a job for you."

 

            Ambrosia frowned at her sudden mood change. "I'm not taking jobs right now."

 

            "Oh? Perhaps you are not as powerful as I had heard. Of course, I would have also expected you to be human."

 

            Before Ambrosia could let her pride get the best of her Eva quickly cut in, "I'm sorry, but we just want to look at the tooth."

 

            "Hear me out, dear. I have a few issues with a rather bothersome creature wreaking havoc in my basement. I haven't been able to get in there for weeks. If you do this, perhaps I can get you that tooth."

 

            Ambrosia took a moment to consider it. Under any other circumstances she would have accepted the offer, but with no magic and an untrained girl to worry about she didn't have the resources to risk heroics. She shook her head.

 

            "For the last time, no deal."

 

            "I'm sorry dear," Antevorta said sweetly as she reached for one of her many necklaces. "But that's not an option."

 

            Ambrosia saw the light before she saw motion. Instinct launched her from her seat and into Eva, knocking them both to the ground. A hissing beam of light sliced through the air where the girl had once sat. As they scrambled to their feet the light solidified. It soon morphed into a writhing, hissing snake the width of Ambrosia's body. Its green scales gleamed with a dull magic light, its bright red mouth the color of blood. Another snake writhed into life and quickly blocked the passage leading outside.

 

            The wizard turned and darted towards the curtain, Eva pounding after her. They burst through with an explosion of perfume and incense. Ambrosia made a beeline down the hallway, hoping for a way out. Even a place to catch their breath would be useful.

 

            "Here!" Ambrosia shouted as they turned a corner. Eva pulled at the first door she saw, found it locked, and threw open the next. They darted in and she slammed it shut. The two huddled into the back of the cramped closet, hardly daring to breath. Eva's quick, forced breaths were nearing panic.

 

            "Calm down," Ambrosia hissed. "Just find the phone and call Ralf—he's on speed dial." 

 

            Eva fumbled with the bag in the darkness of the closet. They could hear the snakes slithering nearby.

 

            "I-I can't s-see it. It's too—oh! Thanks for the light."

 

            "Uh, Eva? That's not me."

 

            Eva shrieked as thin, glowing snakes poured from the vent overhead. She scrambled to her feet, knocking the snakes back. Eva and Ambrosia burst from the closet to find themselves surrounded. 

 

            "You've forced my hand," Antevorta said, blocking their way back to the curtained room. She was flanked by the two giant snakes. Behind the girls another two hissed. "Do you like my pets? I got them at a flee market. You'd be surprised what kind of magical amulets get sold at those things."

 

            "Yeah, great story," Ambrosia snapped. "Now step aside before rip apart your little "pets" with my bare teeth."

 

            "Oh? Please, I'd love to see it," Antevorta said with her sickly sweet voice, stepping towards them and forcing them back step.

 

            "Uh, Ambrosia?" Eva whispered, pointing to the woman's foot. "Is that normal?"

 

            The wizard looked down. Antevorta's foot had landing on her snake's tail; instead of pressing onto it, however, her foot simply phased through.

 

            "Clever," Ambrosia said. She stepped forward and yelled at the top of her voice, "ILLUSION!"

 

            The woman was so startled by Ambrosia's outburst that she didn't have time to react before Ambrosia spun around and leapt through the snakes blocking their way, ignoring the intangible fangs snapping at her heels. With a yelp of fright Eva followed her lead, terror fueling a jump that easily cleared the reptiles. The wizard could hear the girl pounding on her heels as they rounded another corner and found a door blocking their way.

 

            "Hurry!" Ambrosia shouted as Eva fumbled with the door handle. Antevorta's snakes slipped around the corner. As soon as the door was open the girls leapt through.

 

            Neither of them saw the stairs in their path and they tumbled into darkness.

 

8: Chapter 8

            Ambrosia cracked her eyes open. It was dark. Her head throbbed and she could feel an ache coming back into her shoulder. She squinted through the darkness until she saw a thin strip of light high above, framing the closed door. As she watched, the light disappeared. Something shifted next to her and she jumped to her feet, bristling, only to relax when Eva groaned.

 

            "That hurt," the girl muttered. "Guess we should watch where we're going next time, huh?"

 

            After a few moments of clumsily rummaging around in her bag, Eva clicked on a flashlight. The beam of light swept across the short hallway they had fallen into and then highlighted the carpeted stairway above. Without a word the two slowly made their way back up the stairs and to the door. The silence seemed ominous. When nothing stirred beyond the door, Ambrosia nodded to Eva.

 

            "Yowch!" Eva yelped as she yanked her hand from the burning hot doorknob. Glowing runes of an anti-burglary spell were etched into its shiny surface.

 

            Trapped. Eva swung the light to the other end of the short hallway, where another door sat. Shooting the locked door a poisonous glance, Ambrosia led the way down the hall. When Eva jiggled the doorknob they were surprised to find it open easily.

 

            "What are you waiting for?" Ambrosia said when the girl paused to rummage in the bag.

           

            The light of the cell phone lit up Eva's frowning face. "No reception."

 

            "Coverage around this town has always been terrible. Looks like we're on our own. Now open the door so we can find our way out of here."

 

            Eva obeyed.

 

            In front of them stretched a long, dark room. The flashlight highlighted a plethora of novelties scattered across rows of tables and crammed into the shelves shoved against the wall. They saw pots and pans glittering despite the thin layer of dust covering the room, well-rubbed lamps with swirling designs, plates with depictions ranging from complex runes to brightly painted chickens, rows upon rows of glass figures made of elegant glass and chiseled with swirling runes, painted wooden masks with a myriad of facial expressions, and dozens upon dozens of books. Swords and knives, some sheathed, some not, gleamed coldly. The blades were just a start; Ambrosia could see shields, guns, and all other manners of weaponry spaced out across the room, every single one of them enchanted or otherwise of magical origin.

 

            "If you saw 'wow' one more time," Ambrosia warned the girl, "I'm going to bite your ankle off."

 

            Eva gave her a slight smile and searched for a light switch. As soon as she found it a dim light lit the room. The weakly shining lanterns hanging above seemed exhausted, as if their energy had been sucked out. To Ambrosia, the light only seemed to enhance the creepiness.

 

            "You have to admit, though, this place is pretty interesting." Eva wandered into the room, curiosity overcoming fear. "What is it?"

 

            Ambrosia hurried after her. Part of her wanted to look at the selection of antique hourglasses sitting in the corner, but this was no time for pleasure. "Seems like a showroom. She's got quite the black market going on here, and in such a remote location she probably gets a lot of sales. But be careful. No one would leave all this stuff around without safeguards. Don't touch anything."

 

            She turned to glare at Eva, who hastily shoved a ruby broach back onto the table.

 

            "Judging by the dust, no one's been in here for a few weeks at the least," Ambrosia said. "I wonder why."

 

            "Didn't Antevorta say that she was having trouble with something in her basement?"

 

            "So we're right where she wants us. Brilliant. Why don't we just give her a discount next? Stop for another cup of tea? Well, if she thinks that we're going to do her bidding because she trapped us in her basement like some deranged hoarder she's got another thing coming. Come on, let's find a way out."

 

            Eva shot a frightened look around the dimly lit room and edged closer to the wizard. "Isn't this a bit risky for her? Even if you did get rid of her problem it's not like you'd just let her get away with it, right? Isn't she worried about retribution?"

 

            "She'd probably wipe our memory. But I doubt she has a permit for memory-wiping spells."

 

            "Well she doesn't seem to care much for what's legal."

 

            They headed deeper into the room. Metal antiques glimmered dangerously in the dim light. In a room that was so thoroughly stuffed with magical items Ambrosia felt like there should have been some kind of sounds—clicking, humming, anything. But all was silent. It was as if sound had been sucked out of the air. The only thing to be heard was their cautious footsteps, soft, nearly silent sneakers and the alien pit pat of her paws against carpet.

 

            They stopped at the end of the room, where another door stood. EMPLOYEES ONLY was written in bold black letters. Eva gingerly gripped the doorknob, as if afraid that it might zap her.

 

            "Go on," Ambrosia said when Eva made no attempt to move.

 

            She suddenly realized that the girl was shaking.

 

            "Go on," she said again. "We need to keep moving."

 

            Eva took a shaky breath. Please don't have a panic attack, Ambrosia thought. She wasn't sure how to deal with a panic attack. She was barely sure how to deal with Eva without her freaking out.

 

            Thankfully the girl's voice was fairly steady as she said, "I've been thinking about what you said. You know, about the magical world being dangerous. I think you're right."

 

            Ambrosia could feel a cold weight settling in her stomach. "Oh?"

 

            "Yeah. I always knew that you were right, but I guess I figured that the possible good outweighed the bad. I thought that maybe I could get some answers. But now..." Her hand clenched on the doorknob. "Why should I open this door? Anything could be behind it: goblins, vampires, evil pigs with razor sharp tusks. The world has always been filled with danger, but now I see all of it. How many of those monsters I've read about in books are real? How many were created by people who have truly seen them walking the earth? With magic existing everywhere...what's stopping monsters from hiding in every corner?"

 

            "They've always been there. You believing in them doesn't change anything."

 

            "Yeah, but now I know that they exist. I can see them everywhere—in the shadows, across the street. Every time I close my eyes I imagine every single creature that could exist, and it terrifies me. Ambrosia, how can you live like this? How...how do you go on with that kind of terror hanging over your shoulders?"

 

            Ambrosia was silent for a few moments. Their breaths stirred the dusty air. Finally she swished her tail dismissively. "I guess I don't have your imagination."

 

            The girl gave her a wide-eyed stare.

 

            "Look, I know you're scared. You'd be stupid not to be. But we can't stay here. If you let your fear control you, you become a coward. Those monsters in the shadows—they're scary, for sure, but the best you can do is fight them and move on. What's the point of standing there? It's not going to get us out of here. You have to keep moving."

 

            Ambrosia knew all about moving—she had spent the last year running from fear and pressure. She had fled from the pain and responsibility that her father's death had caused, and it had landed her in Washington. Unfortunately, it had also landed her in a dog's body.

 

            Eva shook her head. "W-what makes you think I'm brave enough to not become a coward?"

 

            "Girl, you threw a book at a rampaging pig demon. I think you can open a door."

 

            Eva cracked the slightest of smiles. Drawing in a deep breath, she threw the door open.

 

            After all that Ambrosia half expected a monster to leap out at them, for shadows to rush at their throats, but instead they entered the small storage room with no resistance. The dust was everywhere in here, itching the wizard's nose and causing her to sneeze. Ignoring Eva's giggle, she scanned the room. Boxes were piled high against the walls. She could see various labels scrawled onto their surfaces, but the poor lighting made them hard to see.

 

            "Think we can find a dragon tooth in here?" Eva mused as she flipped the light switch. If possible, the lights in here seemed even more drained than those in the main showroom.

 

            "I'd prefer an exit."

 

            Eva knelt down to poke at a box, fidgeting more than doing any actual searching. "Is it just me, or do we spend a lot of time in storage rooms?"

 

            "And always looking for something. I hope we're not going to meet another angel. I don't think I can handle more than one."

 

            "I don't know, we seem to have a good record with—hey, what's this?"

 

            Ambrosia turned just in time to see Eva slip something from a box. The wizard could feel her skin tingling as the girl grabbed two ends of the object and pulled them apart. Silver gleamed in the dull light.

 

            "Be careful!" she snapped, her voice coming out in a harsh bark.

 

            Eva fumbled with the knife and nearly dropped it. She quickly shoved it back it back into its sheath. "W-what?"

 

            "What are you, daft? You can't just go around messing with magical weapons!"

 

            "Sorry! B-but what's the big deal? It's just a knife. I'm not going to stab anyone."  

 

            "Just a knife?" Ambrosia scoffed. "What you have in your hands is a dangerous weapon to all magical creatures. It has been the bane to wizards throughout the ages, an advantage to enemies of the magical arts!"

 

            "Oh. But what is it?"

 

            She answered with one word: "Silver."

 

            "Silver?"

 

            "Silver!" Ambrosia leapt onto a box for better height, dramatically putting a paw to her chest. She could practically feel her father's lectures thrumming in her ears. "Yes, the dreaded werewolf's bane! It has been used for generations in ghost fighting, witch hunting, and all forms of anti-magical activity! Even wizards themselves find it valuable in experiments. One nugget of pure silver is enough to negate even some of the most powerful spells. Weapons of silver are powerful, but dangerous to both the user and her victims!"

 

            "Really?" Eva said, looking to the knife quizzically. Runes were etched into the leather sheath, spelled to prevent any negative effects of the silver blade to seep out.

 

            "Yep. It's not pure silver, obviously, because that would be too soft to be of any good. But I can tell that it has enough silver to be effective. When I was a kid my dad talked about that stuff all of the time. He had a few silver weapons himself."

 

            "So it's going to kill you if I take it out?"

 

            "No," she said, slightly embarrassed of her previous outburst. "If it's just laying around its probably not strong enough for that. You should be careful, though. It's not gold or anything."

 

            "Gold?"

 

            "Yeah. Gold is pretty much the anti-silver. It increases magical energy." She knew quite a few wizards who carried around gold jewelry or watches to increase their magical powers, but that option was always too expensive for her. "Anyway, you should put it back."

 

            "No, look! I recognize this design."

 

            Ambrosia reluctantly leaned closer. The knife looked like a miniature sword, perhaps some kind of dagger. The black leather grip was old and worn, ending off in a smooth pommel. Where the hilt met the blade a circular design was stamped into metal. Ambrosia could make out a large, majestic bird, its wings stretched out, rising above a full moon. Her tail twitched. She too felt as if she had seen it before.

 

            "I don't remember where I've seen it," Eva went on with a frown. "But...I feel like I—"

 

            She suddenly cut off as a cool wind blew through the room. Ambrosia shivered. Her fur bristled at the unexpected coldness, which would normally promise a passage of escape into the night, but the wind seemed unnaturally bitter. Perhaps it was the lack of scent, but something told her that the breeze promised no good will.

 

            Eva stood at the door, staring out into the long, dimly-lit showroom. Before Ambrosia could open her mouth the girl walked into the room.

 

            "Wait!" Ambrosia said, scrambling after her. Eva kept walking as if in a trance. Here the wind blew sharper and colder, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Ambrosia strained her eyes to find the source of the breeze. She could see wisps of light, ducking and wheeling out of her vision as soon as she turned to them, as if fragments of the Northern Lights had fallen to this room to dance over dusty artifacts. 

 

            "Oh no," she muttered, realizing with dread that she recognized this coldness. She darted in front of Eva, trying to make her stop, but the girl sidestepped her without a glance. "Hey, get back here!"

 

            "This way," Eva said slowly. "This is where the voice says to go."

 

            What? "I don't hear anything."

 

            Eva said nothing.

 

            With a growl Ambrosia gave up and followed close to the girl, fur bristled and tail rigid. Her lip curled to reveal her teeth. Had she still been human, she would have clenched her fists and prepared her weapon. Now she had neither of these options; her body responded differently, but either way, she was prepared. Whatever was going to attack them—and there was no doubt in her mind that they were going to be attacked—would have to go through her. She was ready.

 

            Eva stopped in the center of the room, where tables had been pushed back to reveal a freshly-placed rug. The brightly-colored rug clashed harshly with the dull carpeting as if it had been chosen at random to hastily cover something on the carpet. The temperature had dropped so much they could see their breaths.

 

            "Ok, we're here," Ambrosia said, poking at the carpet. "What now?"

 

            Eva stared at the rug, brow furrowing, before her bright blue eyes slowly moved along the tables around them. Their breaths filled the air. The breeze and lights had stopped, leaving them in deafening silence.

 

            "There," Eva said at last, pointing to an old-fashion radio. Made of dark wood and brass, it sat in the center of an empty table, as still and solemn as a church. When Eva crouched to get a better look Ambrosia jumped up, vaulting off her shoulder and onto the table. She circled the silent radio.

 

            "You could have just asked," Eva muttered, rubbing her shoulder.

 

            "What is this thing?" the wizard asked.

 

            "Looks like a radio."

 

            "Just a radio? In a place like this?"

 

            She poked at it, as if expecting something to jump out. It smelled of old wood and ancient hands. She could imagine it sitting on a table in the middle of a dining room, a new invention, invisible against the background until its shiny black knob was turned; then the children and the parents and the hobbled old grandparents would crowd around it in the dimming light and listen as it spun news and war and tales of fantasy into the air. She could imagine it growing dusty as years went on, until at last it changed hands, again and again, before finding its place in an antique shop and gathering dust again. She could imagine its dust finally being unsettled as a wizard found it, hidden away in a back corner, and made it into something new.

 

            Ambrosia blinked, shocked at these thoughts in her head. Here in this dusty room, surrounded by trinkets of the past and the present, the young bounty hunter began to understand why wizards had such an insatiable appetite for collecting—a desire to find worldly possessions with little or no use and make them new again, or simply allow them a break on a shelf where they would not be forgotten. Wizards, who depended on the world for their power, could see the things for what they were and what they could be.

 

            This is not a radio, she thought, circling it once more. It had been, once, but now it emitted something other than radio waves. She set her paw on its warm wooden surface. Beneath the scent of wood and brass she could detect something intrusive, a scent that almost seemed to being attempting to block out every other smell.

 

            "Hey Eva, bring that knife over here."

 

            She looked at it, just realizing that it was still in her hand. She carefully unsheathed it and held it to Ambrosia.

 

            The radio let out a high pitched whine of protest, the dial above the knob flailing frantically. Eva jerked the knife back.

 

            "Just as I thought," Ambrosia said. "It's blocking something out—something magic. Whatever it is, it probably has to do with that wind. I think we should—hey!"

 

            Eva had her hand on the knob. With a quizzical frown, as if she couldn't quite decide what she was doing, she twisted it. The radio crackled. A short silence hung in the air.

 

            Chaos broke loose. Wind roared through the room at full force, a hurricane of flashing lights and battering winds. Ambrosia tumbled to the floor as a miniature totem pole slammed into her shoulder. Pots shattered as the gale sent valuables toppling from the tables, filling the air with bits of broken wood, plastic, and clay. Ambrosia rolled under the table. Eva clung to a table leg, shoulder shaking and tears pricking her eyes. She looked to Ambrosia to yell something, but the wind caught her voice. The bounty hunter thought she could make out the word on her lips: Sorry.

 

            A yell wailed through the air, sending a shutter through both of the girls. Ambrosia dodged a glass eye the size of a bowling ball as it rolled by, leaving a trail of slime in its wake. They had to get out; this room was too exposed.

 

            "Run!" she shouted, her voice drowned out by the wind, and darted towards the storage room. Half-way there she glanced back to see Eva still immobile.

 

            With a growl of frustration she darted back, dodging a small moose statue and the flailing cover of a screaming book. Eva whimpered as she approached. Come on! she urged silently, grabbing a mouthful of shirt in her mouth and pulling. When that proved ineffective she sank her teeth into Eva's leg.

 

            The girl yelped and scrambled away from the table. Her eyes cleared. This time she followed as Ambrosia stumbled through the raging hurricane. The wizard half expected rain. Instead something big and solid slammed into her back, sending her sprawling. Hands grabbed her middle and dragged her into the storage room. Eva shoved the door closed. She quickly flicked the lock.

 

            "Think that will—"

 

            Eva cut off with a shriek as something heavy slammed into the door. She stumbled back, nearly tripping over Ambrosia, and tumbled into a pile of boxes. Ambrosia stood her ground, teeth bared, as whatever it was continued to slam into the shuttering door.

 

            The pounding stopped. Blue mist seeped out from under the door. It pooled across the floor, swirling like a vortex, but didn't stray past a few feet from the door. Eva scrambled to her feet and kneeled next to Ambrosia.

 

            "W-what do we do?" she asked shakily.

 

            Ambrosia didn't answer. The mist continued to grow, slowly forming a tall column. The temperature dropped. Ambrosia's breath pooled from her lips. She was ready to face whatever emerged. It didn't matter that she was unarmed and outmatched. She would fight any enemy that come through the door until her teeth bled and her heart was ripped from her body.

 

            I'm going to die here, she thought, and crouched, ready to spring.

 

            The mist swirled and thickened, spreading tendrils along the walls and snaking above the floor. Features began to form in the column of mist—broad shoulders, square hands, and the beginning of a face with glowing pits for eyes. The creature opened its half formed mouth and let out an ear-splitting groan. Ambrosia tensed.

 

            Eva stepped forward.

 

            "H-hello," she said. "I'm Eva, and this is Ambrosia. We're here to help."

9: Chapter 9

            The world stood frozen in time. Eva trembled in the center of the room, eyes wide, as her breath pooled around her face. The half-formed creature hovered in front of her.

 

            "Help?" it whispered, its voice hoarse and thin.

 

            Eva swallowed. "Y-yes. Isn't that why you talked to me?"

 

            "You could hear me?" Its form shivered with the realization. The blue mist seemed to thicken and grow more defined. Ambrosia could make out the vague shape of a tall, misty blue man.

 

            Eva nodded, and without another word the creature faded through the door, sending ripples of blue mist along its surface. Its voice drifted from the other room: "Good, good! You help me. Yes! Help again!"

 

            Before Eva could start for the door Ambrosia jumped in front of her.

 

            "Hold it!" she growled. "Don't even think about following that thing. We don't know what it's capable of."

 

            "It's capable of blowing around wind and weird shiny blueness," Eva answered, nervous but purposeful. "Do you have a vendetta against ghosts or something?"

 

            "Of course I..." She blinked. "Wait, how do you know that thing is a ghost?"

 

            Eva simply walked past her and threw open the door. The column of blue mist snaked its way towards the center of the room. The girl followed, Ambrosia on her heels.

 

            "You like to think things through, right?" the wizard said. "Well, think about this: we have no weapons to take down a ghost. Even that knife of yours won't do much. We don't have an ectoplasmic vacuum to store it in or an empath to absorb its energy. Those are the only reliable ways to defeat a ghost, so without them we don't stand a chance."

 

            "Why can't we just talk to him?"

 

            "Talking never gets you anywhere! Beating things up is what gets the job done. Anyway, that's beside the point. When I told you to be brave this wasn't what I had in mind. I meant, you know, don't be too scared to open the door. I didn't mean for you to run off and get both of our souls sucked out by an ectoplasmic monstrosity. I say we ditch the ghost and try to find a way out."

 

            "Isn't that what we've been doing?"

           

 

            I swear this girl is more stubborn than me sometimes, Ambrosia thought with exasperation as she followed Eva to the center of the room. She wasn't quite sure why she was still following her, other than a vague obligation not to let Eva die. The ghost circled around the central carpet, flickering with agitation. It steered far away from the dead radio.

 

            "Here, here—it happened here," the ghost murmured. Its form flickered like television static, as if remembering its previous life brought it discomfort.

 

            "What happened?" Eva said softly.

 

            The ghost hovered above the carpet and then darted half way across the room, nothing but a blue blur of motion. It circled the air, agitated. "Don't remember. Don't want to."

 

            "This is probably where he died," Ambrosia said.

 

            Eva glanced at her. "You think?"

 

            "Ghosts like to stick around the place of their creation, even if they don't know why. It has something to do with the burst of power that happens when they are "born," if you could call it that. As far as I've gathered, ghosts are created when someone dies—obviously. But it doesn't just happen to everyone. When someone releases a high burst of emotion from their death, sometimes a ghost forms. How it works, no one knows."

 

            "High burst of emotion?" She swallowed. "Like being murdered?"

 

            "Bingo," Ambrosia said, warily eyeing the flickering ghost. "That's one of the most common reasons for a ghosts to appear. I think it has something to do with the correlation between magic and emotions. Ghosts can also appear from dramatic accidents or the intense feeling that the person has something left undone. Let me tell you, those last ones are the worst. They're so stubborn."

 

            "The way you talk about them, you act as if they were never human," Eva said.

 

            Ambrosia shot her a sharp look, but didn't answer. She watched as Eva stepped forward.

 

            "Are you the one who has been keeping Antevorta from coming down here?" Eva asked.

 

            The ghost flickered and appeared in front of Eva, only a few inches from touching her. "Liar! That woman—she lies!"

 

            Eva yelped.

 

            "Of course she does," Ambrosia said calmly. "She's a psychic."

 

            "No! She makes promises but does not complete them. She tricks and steals and—and..." The ghost took a shaky breath. "And she was my wife. She was my wife and she killed me."

 

            Eva gasped. Ambrosia stared at the ghost with the haunting realization that they were in over their heads. An angry ghost was one thing, but a murder case was another. The ghost flickered and grimaced, as if remembering brought great pain.

 

            "I understand now," Eva whispered, eyes wide. "I don't like it, but I understand. You're the creature who has been keeping Antevorta from getting down here to her merchandise. This radio—it's keeping you contained. Even after I turned it down you can't leave. She would never want you running around—running around and telling people what she's done, if you could even remember in this state. But I don't understand. Why would she want to kill you?" Tears pricked at her eyes. "You're—you were her husband."

 

            "She did not just want to kill me, she did it! Treacherous, murderous woman! She killed me for greed—because she wanted it all for herself. Because I was a burden!"

 

            "T-that's it? Because she wanted something—money or fame or whatever? It doesn't matter what she wanted and how you got in the way. I just don't understand how she could kill another human being for greed."

 

            "She needed no other reason," the ghost hissed.

 

            Ambrosia shook her head. "Welcome to the real world, girl. Here people kill each other for nothing more than a few sheets of green. Here they hurt each other and don't give a walrus's tusk what happens to their victims. You should know this. Magic doesn't improve human nature, it magnifies it. Look at this ghost. It's still here because of a magic. It's angry and in pain. This is the world that you want so desperately to be a part of."

 

            Eva looked away, a sob choking her throat. It was a few moments before she could speak. "Wha-what can we do?"

 

            "Tell us how to get out of here," Ambrosia commanded the ghost. "If you lived here, you'll know this place inside and out."

 

            "That's it?" Eva said. "We can't help him?"

 

            "Yes, help!" the ghost said. "Help me. That woman—she must be destroyed. She keeps me down here with this cursed box, but you can free me. Let me get my revenge!"

 

            Eva gave him a long, tired stare. "No."

 

            "No?" the ghost said.

 

            "No?" Ambrosia said.

 

            "Ambrosia!"

 

            "What? She deserves it. In case you didn't notice, she trapped us down here. For all we know this ghost could have killed us, since you seem to want to go around cutting off dampening spells keeping it under check. I don't see why we can't let this ghost get its revenge. It would benefit all of us to get her out of the way."

 

            "No," Eva said. "His time here is done. His presence here feels wrong, like he stepped out of another world. This isn't his life anymore. It's time for him to move on. He's dead."

 

            Ambrosia tried to decipher whether or not she would really feel bad if anything happened to Antevorta because of them. As much as she wanted to have a sense of morality about the situation, she wasn't surprised to find that if Antevorta were to end up hurt because of this, Ambrosia wouldn't care. She was too tired of being helpless to care.

 

            The ghost dimmed. Once bright and vibrant with anger and stress, the life seemed to have been sucked out of it by Eva's words—if, that is, it had any life to begin with. It almost appeared to be fading from existence, as if being smudged out by an eraser.

 

            "Please," Eva said, holding out a hand. "It's time for you to rest."

 

            The ghost sighed. Blue wisps dropped from its form like shedding scales, revealing a dull, smoky form below that vaguely resembled a man with his shoulders slumped in defeat.

 

            "I'm tired," the ghost said quietly. He reached out a hand. 

 

            Alarm bells went off in Ambrosia's head. She didn't know much about ghosts and generally tried to avoid working with them, but she knew one rule that ghost hunters stuck to like glue: don't let them touch you. If they touched you, they might be able to hurt you.

           

            There was no time for words. Ambrosia surged forward and shoved her shoulder into Eva's leg, trying to unbalance her, trying to stop her from reaching out, but it was too late. The ghost's fingertips brushed against Eva's own. Blue light surged through the room. Eva froze, eyes wide, as the light pulsed through the ghost, starting from its feet and flowing up its legs, waist, and chest, but it didn't stop there—the light traveled along its arm like a hungry wave and engulfed Eva's hand. She flinched as the light continued to travel along her body like it had on the ghost, leaving her skin cold and itchy. She barely had time to gasp before the light was upon Ambrosia as well.

 

            Ambrosia's vision went black. Confused thoughts and memories swirled through her mind like fish flitting through a distant pool, visible only from the silver flashes of their scales. Whenever she tried to reach out and grab them they darted away. She struggled against the fogginess, ignoring the memories that were not her own. Get out of my head! she shouted to the ghost. Leave me alone! Among the flashes of distant, silvery thoughts she saw a flash of purple.

 

            Then the memories appeared in a torrent and swept her into their grasp. She felt helpless and scared, but the feelings were not her own; they were alien and strange, like a foul taste in a familiar food. Dark eyes flashed in her mind, rich and deep and wonderful. She wanted to reach out caress those eyes, to drown in their depth, but before she could the eyes hardened, brows creasing, pupils shrinking, anger flaring like a bonfire in the night. There was a flash of steel and the putrid scent of greed, and then Ambrosia found herself lying on the hardwood floor of the basement, staring up at a bare light bulb that was much too bright. A shadow towered above her, and although her vision was blurred and spotted with flashes of color, she knew who it was; she knew those dark eyes and ginger hair; she knew those garish beads and colorful shawls; and she knew it all with that alien familiarity that pressed in the back of her throat. She stared out of eyes that were not her own, blurry with tears and pain, and with that throat that was not her own she let out a wordless shout, a plea, the last sound that she would ever know.

 

            A flash of silver. Stabbing pain. Darkness.

 

            Ambrosia's eyes snapped open. Her head swam as she scrambled to her feet, feeling as if she had just awoken from a deep sleep. Eva lay curled on the ground next to her, shoulders trembling. A faint wisp of blue curled itself around the girl's fingers, but as Ambrosia watched the light faded with what sounded like a deep, restful sigh spreading through the whole room. Ambrosia blinked, trying to get her thoughts in order, but before she could formulate any coherent explanation for what had happened, footsteps creaked overhead. Her ears perked, trying to identify the distant, muffled voices along the edge of her hearing. They weren't ethereal like the ghost's had been; these were real. Her sharp hearing zoned in on the voices like a listening spell.

 

            Quite suddenly, like a punch in the stomach, she recognized them. The fur along her spine went rigid and her lip curled back to reveal sharp teeth. 

           

            "I'm sorry I can't offer more than a bit of tea. Things have been a bit hectic around here in the last few hours," the voice of Antevorta said sweetly.

 

            "Oh, it's no problem," the blood wizard purred, his voice a mixture of smooth honey and ice; Ambrosia could almost imagine the sharp smile on his face. "I can only thank you for taking me in at such a time of night. Had I known that you were having trouble, my dear, I would have come earlier to offer my help."

 

            "Oh, don't worry about it. It was just a few pests."

 

            The blood wizard chuckled, a sweet, soothing sound that only increased Ambrosia's agitation. Antevorta giggled—actually giggled—and Ambrosia heard the distant shuffling of cups.

 

            "Now," the blood wizard said, "about that dragon tooth I mentioned."

 

            "Gryphon dung!" Ambrosia hissed at the ceiling. She wanted to run upstairs and chomp on the wizard's leg, but she knew that wasn't an option. He was obviously powerful. Besides, they were still stuck.

 

            Eva shifted, letting out a low groan. Her eyes cracked open, peering at her dim surroundings; Ambrosia could have sworn she saw a spark of purple in her eyes before it faded.

 

            "I feel sick," Eva moaned. She carefully uncurled herself and ran a hand over her face. "W-what happened?"

 

            "No clue, but we're still trapped in a basement, the ghost is gone, and the evil blood wizard who turned me into a dog is loitering around upstairs."

 

            "What?"

 

            "Bottom line, we need to get out of here. Now. I don't want another tango with that obnoxious wizard, especially if he's got that shade with him. Any brilliant ideas?"

 

            "There's a dumbwaiter in the storage room."

 

            "I guess that will have to—wait, what? How do you know that?"

 

            "I didn't know. He did." She rubbed her face again. "My head hurts."

 

            She heard the distant voices again, louder. Ambrosia shook her head. "Never mind, let's just go!"

 

            With a bit of head butting and sleeve tugging, Ambrosia managed to get the girl on her feet and together they made their way to the room with the familiar EMPLOYEES ONLY sign that they pointedly ignored. Eva led them straight across the room to the opposite wall. A small wooden door sat a foot off the ground, half-hidden by boxes. They cleared the clutter to find a panel with three black buttons. Ambrosia pressed the middle button and the doors obediently opened.

 

            "Hop in," Ambrosia said, ignoring the dubious look shot her way.

 

            "It's, uh, kind of small."

 

            "Get your butt in there before I leave you behind."

 

            Eva scrambled into the dumbwaiter, muttering something about how she was finally glad to be short. Ambrosia hopped in. They were cramped, but it was better than nothing. She shifted to avoid being poked by Eva's sheathed knife, which the girl had attached to her belt, and peered around the small space.

 

            A button panel similar to the one outside sat on the wall at Ambrosia's nose. When she pressed the middle button the doors closed.

 

            "Antevorta must have had a miniature golem or something," she said. "It could move quickly from floor to floor, using this as an elevator. She probably used it to move merchandise. Handy."

 

            "That's really interesting," Eva said in a small voice, "b-but what exactly are we doing? We don't know what just happened, we don't know where we are, and now we're sitting in a dumbwaiter, hoping that it will take us somewhere good?"

 

            "If Antevorta thinks we're going to sit around like ducklings, she's got another thing coming."

 

            "So you've got a plan?"

 

            "Nope." She slapped the rise button. "Going up!"

10: Chapter 10

            The dumbwaiter hummed as it rose. Ambrosia impatiently tapped her claws on the metal floor. She felt exhausted. Normally such a night would not faze her—she had been through much worse—but a combination of her useless body, her magic shortage, and the general weirdness surrounding Eva cast a heavy weight on her furred shoulders. She wanted to curl up on a sofa and fall asleep.

 

            Later, she thought. And there will be a later.

 

            She glanced at Eva. The girl's hands were clenched at her knees, knuckles white. She had fared surprisingly well on their brief adventure, but Ambrosia wondered if that would hold up for much longer. The dumbwaiter jerked to a halt.

 

            The doors slip open and they tumbled out, gasping for air. The dumbwaiter had deposited them in yet another storage room, packed with furniture and boxes. Judging by the slope of the ceiling and the tree tops seen from the single window, they were in an attic. A door stood on the far side of the room, slightly ajar.

 

            Eva rubbed her shoulder. "So, uh, what are we looking for? An exit? A dragon tooth? A sudden and inexplicable solution to all of our problems?"

 

            "As much as I'd love to find some kind of magic solution, I think we should stick to finding an exit."

 

            "What about the window?"

 

            Ambrosia hopped onto a table, dislodging a porcelain statue, and gazed out the window. "No luck, unless you want to jump two stories into thorn bushes."

 

            She moved to the door and peered through the crack. All she saw was the stairwell. Snippets of conversation floated her way, but she paid no attention to the words. Instead she focused on triangulating the source. If there was one thing she enjoyed about her new body, it was the amplified hearing. Still, her untrained ears struggled to pinpoint the distant conversation. Sound echoed and bounced through the hallways. The best she could guess was that they were on the floor below.

 

            "Still have that knife?" Ambrosia asked quietly.

 

            Eva nodded, hand straying to the blade at her belt. Ambrosia turned back to the door. Her blood chilled.

 

            The voices were getting closer.

 

            "Hide!" Ambrosia hissed. The dumbwaiter stood on the other side of the room—much too far to use as cover. Eva threw open an old wooden wardrobe and they jumped in, sealing themselves off just in time to hear the creak of the attic door.

 

            "Go ahead and take a look around," Antevorta said sweetly. "I would let you look downstairs but—"

 

            "Pests. I understand."

 

            The light clicked on. "I'll just go check on that, shall I? Oh, I wish I could remember where I put that tooth. After my husband passed away I've been so disorganized."

 

            "I understand, and I am sorry for your loss. It must be hard on you."

 

            The worst part, Ambrosia thought, was that he sounded sincere.

 

            Antevorta let out a sigh. Compared to the sincerity of the blood wizard, she sounded almost wooden. "Well, you know—life goes on. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call. In the meantime I have a few things I need to check on."

 

            The door shut. Ambrosia pressed her ear against the wardrobe wall, hearing the blood wizard walk across the attic with measure steps. For a panicked moment she thought he would reach for their hiding spot, but instead he stopped and said in a cold voice, "Shade, come."

 

            The faint smell of oil filled the air. With a start, Ambrosia realized that it accompanied the appearance of the shade. She hadn't smelled it the first time they met. Of course, back then she didn't have the nose of a canine. Her lip curled with hatred. The ones who had driven her into this mess stood mere yards away, but she was helpless. With her magic she could have burst from the wardrobe and roasted them alive; even without magic, hands would have been enough to wield a sword, or even the leg of a chair. She wanted to fight. But all she had was teeth and claws. Useless.

 

            "Right here, boss," the shade said in its genderless tone. Eva's eyes widened at the sudden introduction of a third person, but she thankfully stayed silent.

 

            "Get to searching. We don't have much time. If we don't find the tooth here, we might not make it in time for the vernal equinox. It took us long enough to find this one."

 

            "Aye, captain. All hands on deck!"

 

            Ambrosia heard a box thrown open and a sigh. "Just search. No games."

 

            His tone sobered the shade. "Okay, Argent."

 

            "I told you..." The blood wizard trailed off with another sigh. "Don't call me that. You're not supposed to know my name."

 

            "Sorry, I forgot. All these rules are confusing. I didn't know that partnering with a human would be so complicated. It's like math! I mean, that's a thing that humans find complicated, right?"

 

            Another sigh came from the blood wizard, accompanied by shuffling of boxes as the two began their search. Ambrosia shook her head. Argent. The blood wizard had a name. Somehow she had gotten this far simply thinking of him as "the blood wizard," an agent without a name. A faceless entity. Yet he had a face, and now he had a name—Ambrosia wasn't sure if it made him more mundane, or simply amplified the fact that he was real. She knew he was real. She could still see his horrible, mesmerizing gaze in the back of her mind.

 

            No, she thought. It hadn't been his magic that changed her. The shade had done the dirty work. Perhaps it had been the blood wizard's spell. From what little she knew about shades, they were hardly spellwrits, but the shade had been the one to use magic. Why couldn't the blood wizard do it? Why was he relying on a simple-minded shade for power?

 

            The blood wizard's breath caught, snapping Ambrosia from her thoughts. She leaned forward until the fur of her forehead brushed the wardrobe door.

 

            "Perfect," he said, his voice as smooth as ice.

 

            "What? Did you find it?" the shade said.

 

            With a jolt of panic Ambrosia leaned past Eva's knees and peered out through the thin crack between the wardrobe doors. She could see the shade on the far wall, wiggling impatiently as it stared at the blood wizard, who has his back to the girls. Ambrosia caught only a glimpse at the small box held in his hand.

 

            "No, but almost as good! Do you know what this is?" He turned abruptly and paced the room, excitement in his steps. Ambrosia noticed that one of his arms—the one he had favored the night before—was set in a sling, as if broken.

 

            "A box?"

 

            The wizard didn't seem to hear. "A kivel! I haven't seen one in years. They contain enough magic to bring the most powerful wizard to his knees. What a fool this woman must be to keep one of these simply laying around!"

 

            "So it should be enough to find the tooth?"

 

            "Find the tooth? It can do much more than that." He let out a harsh laugh, stopping abruptly in front of the wardrobe. For a moment Ambrosia thought they had been discovered, but he didn't even glance her way. His attention was on the box. Ornate symbols decorated the dark wooden surface. The blood wizard's cold blue eyes shone with a dark exhilaration.

 

            "This box," he said slowly, "is enough to break my bonds."

           

            "Oh!" the shade said with a queer mixture of exhilaration and dread. "Are you sure?"

 

            The blood wizard ignored its doubts, attempted to open the box with his single good arm. When that proved fruitless he set the box on a table, braced it against his body, and tried again. His grunts of effort became increasingly frustrated.

 

            "Locked," he hissed. "That woman must have the key. We need to—where are you going?"

 

            The shade didn't answer. Ambrosia peered further into the room, brow creasing. She only looked away when Eva gasped. The shadows on the wardrobe walls had darkened. Two gaps in the darkness sat level to Eva's head, staring at her intently like eyes. Another gap appeared as the shade opened its mouth.

 

            Ambrosia burst from the wardrobe. Adrenaline and anger pumped through her veins like fire. Hiding had failed. Running had failed. Now it was time for the course of action she was best at. The blood wizard whirled around at the sudden noise—the slamming of a door and the shout of his shade—but he didn't have time to react before Ambrosia sank her teeth into his thin ankle.

 

            It wasn't her idea of a grade-A technique, but it would have to do. After all, she had always been taught to make use of what she had.

 

            The blood wizard howled and kicked out, attempting to dislodge her. She held on tighter in response, tasting blood. Her teeth were sharper than she had given them credit for. The tasted of copper assaulted her tongue as the blood wizard yelled and hopped, panicking at the unexpected attack. The world lurched as he lost his footing—unbalanced—and crashed to the floor. Ambrosia was kicked off as his other foot connected with the bruise on her shoulder. She quickly rolled out of range from his flailing limbs and snarled, hackles raised and lip curled back from her teeth.

 

            The blood wizard groaned and rose to his knees, hand going to the bite on his ankle. His cold blue eyes flashed with rage as they swung around to glare at his attacker.

 

            He froze. His jaw opened, but no words came out. His face paled. For a moment, countless emotions flickered through his eyes, but before Ambrosia could decipher them, they settled on one emotion: rage.

 

            "You!" he spat, surging to his feet. "You monster!"

 

            Ambrosia gaped. She had been expecting a lot of things—a sudden blaze of gunfire, a flash of magic—but this had not been one of them. Even Eva, who was backed against the wall with the shade in front of her, turned to stare.

 

            "Get out." The blood wizard took a step forward, thrusting out a trembling hand, as if warding off a demon. "Leave! You don't belong! That body—that body is not yours!"

 

            "Of course it's not!" Ambrosia snapped. He voice rang out bravely, but her fur bristled with unease. She took a step back as he continued to advance, his hand shaking wildly.

 

            "You—you don't deserve to be in there. You don't deserve that image. I heard tales of your appearance, but now I understand." He surged forward, his voice rising to a manic pitch. "Get out of Lyra's image, body snatcher!"

 

            Ambrosia rolled out of the way, feeling his fingers brush her fur. Instinctively she lashed out a paw, hoping to see embers spurting from her fingers, but no magic came. Her unwieldy core smoldered like the angry remains of a fire. Still it refused her call. Ambrosia ducked away from another one of the blood wizard's blows, surprised at his lack of coordination. She had figured that such a dangerous man would be less clumsy.

 

            "Come on, you can do better than that!" she mocked, slipping under a table. She jumped, slamming her back into the wooden surface, and was rewarded with the satisfying crash of pottery and a yelp of surprise. Before the blood wizard could retaliate she dashed out from the table and slipped by his legs, nipping at his heel.

 

            "Enough!" he snapped.

 

            Ambrosia turned just in time to see a small wooden totem slam into her skull. Pain shot through her head. She stumbled, white splotches dancing before her eyes. Though clumsy, he had quite the arm. Shadows flickered across the floor. She froze. Immobility was not her choice—she could barely gasp in a breath under the force of the shade's control. An oily hand squeezed her heart. She hardly had enough freedom to glare at the shade grinning back at her from her own shadow.

 

            "It's about time you did something right," the blood wizard snapped. "And now for you."

 

            There was a sharp yelp and Eva was thrown to her knees next to Ambrosia, their shadows mingling. The shade shifted until it settled where their shadows touched. Ambrosia felt its hold lessen as it took on both of them. She remained exactly where she was, unwilling to let her new freedom show. The blood wizard stood in front of them, favoring his injured ankle. Ambrosia resisted the urge to take a bite out of his other one.

 

            "Now, body snatcher," he said through gritted teeth, "you'll pay for your blasphemy. A cursed creature such as yourself has no right to Lyra's image. Did you think because she was gone, no one would notice? Did you think that taking on her minor form would hide you better? Or did you mean to lure me? Are you from the Council, just like that annoyance the night before?"

 

            He was silent for a moment, and then he took the box, the kivel, and hurried from the room.

 

            When he was gone the shade let out a breath. "Yeesh, that guy is hard to work for. Talk about a temper! Or are all humans like that, once they're above someone else? I don't know. I'm just a shade." It frowned. "But man, is he going to be mad when I tell him about you, little doggy girl. You were supposed to stay out of the way once I turned you into a doggy. I thought doggies were stupid!"

 

            "No, you're thinking of shades," Ambrosia said.

 

            The shade's frown deepened, but before it could retort Eva cut in. "What's your name?"

 

            The question was so sudden and strange that Ambrosia almost let out a laugh, but she forced herself into silence. Eva had shown herself to be surprisingly reliable. Perhaps she could, at the very least, distract the shade.

 

            "Name? Uh, I guess I don't have one. Shades don't really do "names." Anyway, I probably shouldn't be talking with you prisoners. That's how it works, right? Don't chat with the enemy, or something like that?"

 

            "Not always," Eva said carefully. Ambrosia discretely glanced around the room, searching for something to escape with. She saw nothing.

 

            "Oh, really? Huh. I guess I don't really know how all this stuff works. Human things are kind of new to me."

 

            "W-well, we humans like to introduce ourselves when we meet. I'm Eva. I think it's kind of sad that you don't have a name, though. Everyone should have one. It helps make you unique, you know?"

 

            Ambrosia's eyes suddenly snapped to Eva's side. The knife still hung from her belt. The shade's attention was purely on Eva; Ambrosia could feel its hold on her weakening with every word. She wiggled her toes as a test and tensed, waiting for an opening.

 

            "Ard—I mean, Boss didn't give me one. I guess he thought I didn't need it. Peh! What does he know?" The shade paused. "Well, a lot more than me. And you. And a lot of people. But even though he didn't give me a name and he's kind of mean sometimes, I think I need to stick with him. He's my boss, after all."

 

            Eva didn't get to reply. She was distracted by the knife at her side suddenly leaving its sheath and the shade's scream as Ambrosia slashed the silver blade across the carpet, handle help firmly in her jaws. Their shadows writhed like a fish thrashing in a pool, spilling out across the floor in a desperate attempt to escape the agonizing silver. Ambrosia leapt across the room, her feet cold whenever the thrashing shadows brushed her paws, and jumped into the dumbwaiter. She spat the knife out, slapped the descend button, and shouted, "Move!"

 

            Eva was already at her side, snatching up the knife and cramming herself into the small space. The dumbwaiter doors had almost shut when the blood wizard burst into the attic. He rushed at them, Antevorta at his heels, but the dumbwaiter was already descending. The girls huddled in the dark, trapped in a small, dark box that was moving much too slow. Come on, come on!

 

            The dumbwaiter shuddered to a halt.

 

            "What—" Eva was cut off as the box around them shuddered, groaned, and began to rise.

 

            "No!" Ambrosia shouted, pressing at the ascend button. "No, no, no!"

 

            "They-they're bringing us back!"

 

            Of course they were. Eva and Ambrosia were in their territory, after all. Ambrosia wanted to scream at her own stupidity. She slammed her shoulder against the doors, but they didn't budge.

 

            "Ambrosia, do something!"

 

            "I'm trying!"

 

            "Open the door, make us stop moving—anything! Just...just help!"

 

            "Help?"

 

            Ambrosia jerked as the voice whispered into her ear, slamming her head against the wall. Eva shrieked. They both held their breath as a soft blue glow appeared in the dumbwaiter, illuminating Eva's wide eyes.

 

            "Arthur!" Eva said, and with a start Ambrosia realized that the girl knew the ghost's name. "Yes, help! Help us out!"

 

            "You help me—help me twice—so I help you. Yes." His voice was faint and calm.

 

            "Wait," Ambrosia said, fully aware that they were still rising, "how are you going to—"

 

            They fell.

11: Chapter 11

            Ambrosia felt her heart leap into her throat as the dumbwaiter car plummeted like it had been cut loose from its wiring. A split second later the car jerked to a halt, throwing Ambrosia into Eva, and the door opened to the basement storage room. They tumbled out, gasping for air.

 

            "Some help!" Ambrosia wheezed. "We're right back where we started! Is there any other way out?"

 

            A faint tendril of blue mist seeped into the room. If there was any way for mist to look satisfied, it managed.

 

            "Arthur!" Eva said, pausing to take a few steadying breaths and press a hand to her chest. "Arthur, is there any other way out? We need to leave—now!"

 

            The ghost didn't seem to have enough energy to speak. Instead the mist simply floated across the room to outline a door almost entirely blocked by boxes. Ambrosia wondered how they had missed it before.

 

            Displaying the same strange knowledge she had gathered since her incident with the ghost, Eva frowned and said, "That thing? But the key was lost years ago. How are we going to open a door without a... oh."

 

            Ambrosia was already darting to the wall, shoving aside empty boxes. When Eva pulled at the door they expected it to resist, but instead it opened to a staircase leading upwards. Ambrosia caught a waft of cold night air slipping in from behind the door at the top of the stairs. The girls kicked up dust as they darted up the stairs. When Eva gave the doorknob an experimental tug, it left her fingers smudged but didn't shock her.

 

            As Eva fumbled for her lock picking tools, which Ambrosia had long ago decided not to question, the little wizard turned back. A faint clump of blue mist hovered in the storage room.

 

            "Thank you," Ambrosia said, and she meant it. With a satisfied sigh that rang with finality, the ghost faded again. This time it didn't reappear.

           

            Click!

 

            They burst into the night air. Ambrosia had almost forgotten how cold it was—the chilling breeze slammed into her face like a fist. Ahead of them, a short clearing led to a line of dark trees. A stream rushed in the distance.

 

            No time to go around the side of the house. They would be spotted. Ambrosia bolted for the trees. She was almost under cover when something—a distant sound or a subtle instinct—caused her to look back. The blood wizard stood on the edge of the roof, lit by the dull light spilling from the open attic window. Ambrosia watched as his arm sling fell away, sliding down the angled roof to the grass far below, and continued to stare as he lifted the kivel with his other arm to his face, where a small, ornate key was gripped in his teeth. He twisted his wrist. Before the box split open and before blinding light rushed into the air, Ambrosia recognized the complex, dark lines inked onto the blood wizard's limp, bare arm.

 

            A magic dampening spell. She knew only one type of people who had them: criminals.

 

            She turned back to the trees. Too late—a strike of cold blue lightning slammed into the ground in front of her. Where it struck a huge shard of ice sprung from the earth, like a glacier blocking her path. She turned, trying to get around it, but more ice teeth surged from the earth until she was trapped in a cage of cold blue mirrors reflecting her distorted image.

 

            "Ambrosia!"

 

            Eva stood at the tree line, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. The bounty hunter had almost forgotten about her. She opened her mouth to tell the girl to run, but the blood wizard beat her to it—a bolt of lightning slammed into Eva's chest and she went down with a strangled shriek. Ambrosia was helpless, again. In desperation she rammed her shoulder into the ice, surprised when a myriad of cracks appeared on its surface. She tried again. Pain pulsed through her shoulder, but the cracks widened.

 

            "Think again, body snatcher."

           

            Ambrosia managed to jump back just in time to avoid a bolt of blue lightning. She tried to back away, but her tail pressed against ice.

 

            "Dramatic, much?" she spat as the blood wizard approached, frost crusting the ground at his feet. Unnatural ice encased his limp, tattooed arm, ice that was much too blue and reflective to be natural, just as her fire was too bright and smokeless. His eyes glowed and magic drifted from his fingertips like fog from a frozen lake.

 

            "Nice sleeve," she said, eyes darting past him in search of escape. She had to keep him listening, keep him talking, anything to distract him. "But you won't be able to override those tattoos much longer. No kivel can stand up for long against a Council's spell."

 

            "Then I suppose we should finish this quickly."

 

            Not exactly what she had been going for. She jerked to the side as another jolt of cold lightning burst from his fingertips, but didn't see the ice flaring from the ground until pain exploded in her jaw. She staggered, stars dancing in her vision. Copper tickled her tongue. She dug her claws into the ground to stop it from spinning, but that didn't help; she had to crouch to stop from keeling over as part of the ice cage melted to the ground and the blood wizard stepped forward. Magic steamed from his hand. She had to leave. She had to run. But she couldn't move.

 

            "Hold still," he said, stopping in front of her.

 

            Ambrosia wondered if that was a joke.

 

            The blood wizard gritted his teeth, raised his hand, and then jerked forward as a tree branch slammed into his skull.

 

            "B-back off!" Eva said, brandishing her weapon. Her eyes were wide and her breath came too quickly, but her hands gripped the branch with surprising steadiness.

 

            Lip curling back in a sneer, the blood wizard reached out and grabbed the edge of the branch. Ice crept from his fingers and down the branch, engulfing Eva's hands before she could react. She yelped and jerked away, but the ice had already encased her arms and she sank to her knees, weighed down by the thick constraint. The blood wizard reached out to grab her shoulder, but just as his fingers wrapped around the fabric of her jacket, Ambrosia sank her teeth into his ankle for the second time that night.

 

            "Fine," he said through gritted teeth, voice laced with pain and annoyance, "we'll take care of you two at the same time. Seems like I can't turn my back on you for a moment."

 

            He released Eva, which would have come as a relief had he not promptly encased his fist in ice and brought it down on Ambrosia's head.

 

            The last thing she realized before blackness overtook her vision was that she had forgotten to dodge.

 

            Eva had never considered herself a girl of action. Her general philosophy was to lie low, to not cause trouble, because trouble had followed her since she was born and she really didn't want to cause any more problems than necessary.

 

            Despite this philosophy she had somehow ended up in the middle of the forest with a cranky evil wizard, ice around her arms, and an unconscious wizard dog who she had foolishly tried to save. Her head was pounding, her chest felt like it had been replaced with ice, and she was fairly certain her fingers were getting frostbite.

 

            Maybe she should have stayed home.

 

            Rage rolled in waves from Argent as he threw Ambrosia onto his shoulder and approached Eva. Ice weighed Eva down as she fruitless inched away from him, cringing as his hand gripped her collar. He jerked her to her feet. She felt the tension in his fingers, the cold rage that billowed from his heavy breath like fog. She had never seen such anger before—not even on Ambrosia, who oozed passion with whatever she did, even when she tried to seem aloof.

 

            "I don't know why you are here," Argent said, jerking Eva deeper into the forest. She stumbled, but his grip kept her upright; she was surprised that the heavy ice did not rip her arms from their sockets. "Working with a body snatcher—that is below us."

 

            Us?

 

            "They are vile creatures, trying to live for others who they do not understand. Despicable."

 

            Eva felt the ice gradually melting on her arms, falling to the ground in drops and chunks. A root caught her foot and she stumbled, but again he kept her on her feet. Her chest burned from the strange lightning he had struck her with. That was the only reason she couldn't feel her heart pumping with the same panic that clenched her throat like a vice, threatening to choke her if the icy air in her lungs didn't do it first. Beneath it all—beneath the pain and the cold and the panic—she felt a strange, unfamiliar ember of rage.

 

            He stopped. Eva felt the branch slip from her fingers, free at last from the ice, but she was too terrified to reach for it. Her terror increased when she realized that they now stood on a wooden bridge with the stream flowing beneath them. The water was black and much, much too deep. Argent lifted a foot and slammed it into the worn railing. With a sickening crack that jolted Eva's bones, it splintered. Another kick sent the wood splashing into the water, where it was gently swept away by the current. Eva imagined herself floating down the river, broken and splintered. Tears blurred her vision.

 

            "Don't," she croaked.

 

            He paused. "Why not?"

 

            "Because...because it's wrong?"

 

            He carefully tilted her so she could see his face, gave her a soothing, movie-star smile, and shoved her into the water.

 

            She sank like a stone, frozen in shock. Water filled her nostrils. Some distant whisper of self-preservation took over; she pursed her lips together, feeling what little oxygen she had burning her lungs, and lashed out her frozen limps. A heavy weight struck her chest. She scarcely felt her fingers briefly tangle in fur—Ambrosia—and then the weight was gone, swept up in the hopeless eternity of dark water. There was no up and there was no down. The water filled her veins, replacing every ounce of her blood with liquid chill. Her limbs were stone and her brain was mush.

 

            She could have floated forever in that eternity—perhaps it would be for the best. After all, she had little to return to. She was so tired; it seemed that she was always tired these days, no matter how much she slept. Tired of hate and rejection and the feeling that she was letting the world drift by without knowing how to catch it. The thoughts felt cold in her head, and she wondered why. They had always felt warm before.

 

            Her lethargic hand brushed against fur and she felt mud press into her back, a solid floor to eternity. The world righted itself.

 

            No, she couldn't stop now. She had something to fight for. Ambrosia did not deserve an aimless eternity. Eva sluggishly wrapped an arm around the little wizard, gathered her feet as best she could beneath her, and surged upward. Her limbs felt like ice and her lungs burned—how long has she been down here?—but she forced herself upward, forced herself to ignore the lethargy and the hopelessness and the cold that had replaced her veins.

 

            Not yet, she thought. She couldn't give up yet.

 

            Not yet, not yet, not yet.

 

            Her hand pressed against something cold and hard. Distant moonlight glowed through the surface. Eva felt her heart plummet. Argent had sealed the stream with ice. They were trapped. She slammed her palm into the ice, but it held; she, on the other hand, felt herself slipping deeper into the water. She hurriedly stroked upwards and pressed both her hands against the ice, realizing that Ambrosia was sinking slowly beside her. Useless. She couldn't break the ice. Her body screamed for air. Panic squeezed her frozen chest. Blackness engulfed her vision. She sank.

 

            Not yet...

 

            Her fingers brushed against fur. Orange light flooded the water.

 

            Ambrosia opened her eyes.

 

            She felt a universe in her blood. The stars stung her veins and the dust of a thousand galaxies choked her throat, but she could feel the power of the vast cosmos in every inch of her body, blazing like a supernova. It burned, but it was a good burn, like a hot, heavy weapon leaving blisters on her hands.

 

            She barely noticed the ice melting above her, not until her claws slashed the barrier like butter and she sucked in the freezing night air. The water boiled around her. She almost swam to shore before she remembered the sinking purple beacon in the water. Her mind almost tossed Eva aside, remembering how weak and scared the girl was, remembering her shaking limbs and choked voice, but her legs sent her into the water and she emerged with the collar of a limp, shivering teenager in her jaws.

 

            She dragged them both to the shore, steam rising from her fur. Eva coughed as she curled up on the ground, but Ambrosia barely noticed her. Her attention was on the house peering out from between the trees. She could barely think though the strange power roaring in her head. All she knew was power and one emotion: rage. She felt it cloud her head, felt it replace every drop of her blood. Rage ran through her like pure power, and in a distant part of her mind that still had such thoughts, she wondered if there was any difference.

 

            She ran. Flames leapt from her fur and her footsteps left smoldering black craters in the dirt. She was a falling star in the dark, an unstoppable train barreling off its tracks. She couldn't think. She couldn't stop. All she knew was that moment, the only moment in history, and the powerful rage boiling through her veins like magma of an erupting volcano.

 

            The blood wizard stood between the house and the trees, surrounded by a swirling black vortex. Ambrosia didn't even think about her next move. She simply opened her mouth, feeling the heat burning in her throat, and let loose an eruption of roaring flames. The fireball hurled across the clearing and slammed into the black vortex. With a howl, the shade allowed the vortex to fall. The blood wizard looked up. Melting ice dripped from his arm and his eyes held the exhaustion of magic overuse. Despite obvious strain, he rose his hand in challenge.

 

            Another star burst from her throat. A stalagmite of ice surged from the earth before the blood wizard. When the two met, the fire split and roared past the blood wizard in violent tendrils of light. He didn't flinch.

 

            "Haven't I dealt with you enough already?" he snapped.

 

            For once, she didn't rise to banter. When the next fireball hit, cracks exploded across the ice's surface. The blood wizard grimaced.

 

            "Just give up," he said. "Give up and leave this to the big boys. This is between the Council and I. Maybe if you stop interfering I'll kill you quickly next time."

 

            He flicked his wrist as the ice shattered against her next assault. Another shield rose in front of him a mere fraction of a second before the ice shards would have ripped into his body. The last bit of ice fell from his arm.

 

            "Fine. You can dig your own grave. But why try to stop me? All I want is to destroy the Council. That's all. They are not the angels they pretend to be, and you know it. They only act in their own favor, and if your existence becomes in any way a threat to them, they will destroy you at any cost. Well, now it is their turn to taste destruction. Can you really say that they do not deserve such a fate? Can you really say that you haven't wanted to see them fall? You've been cheated by them before, haven't you?" He was silent for a moment, eyes glowing an icy blue. Darkness gathered at his feet. "Yes, I can tell. I'm an empath. We know these things. I can see it in your eyes—you want to see them fall. You want revenge. Just like me."

 

            Another burst of fire ripped from her throat, but before it could reach him he disappeared in a rush of shadows.

 

            The ground smoldered with streaks of fire. Ambrosia approached the circle of runes where the blood wizard had stood and sniffed. All she could smell was smoke. Once again she allowed the heat to build in her throat and let loose a gush of flames. When the light faded, the runes were lost in a wasteland of ash.

 

            "Oh no."

 

            Antevorta stood at the back door to the house, eyes wide. Her backyard was a wasteland of ash and cracked pillars of ice. She stepped forward, eyes searching for any other signs of life.

 

            Ambrosia snarled. The psychic froze.

 

            "You," Ambrosia said, voice rough and painful. "This is your fault."

 

            "Now, dear, that's all a matter of perspect—eek!" She jumped to the side as a fireball streaked into the open doorway and exploded onto her floor. "Oh, that's going to be a mess to clean."

 

            "Why?" Ambrosia growled.

 

            "I'm guessing you don't mean the floor?"

 

            The wizard's glare would have roasted a frailer woman.

 

            Antevorta sobered. The initial fear and nervous teasing faded from her eyes into something much tougher, much more hardened. "Isn't it obvious? I needed something done, and you wouldn't do it. Therefore, I had to force you to do it. I had the ability, and I knew I could get away with it—or at least I did until Argent came along and ruined it. If you had the ability and position, would you not do the same?"

 

            'You want revenge. Just like me.'

 

            "Shut up!" she snarled. "Just shut up!"

 

            "Come now, dear. I think you need to calm down. Why don't we just—"

 

            "Stop."

 

            She froze mid-step, half way to the door.

 

            Ambrosia felt the rage beginning to fade, but she forced it back. If the rage faded, so would the power, and she wasn't sure how to continue without the stars pulsing through her veins. She had every reason for rage: because of this woman she had almost died. But that wasn't the worst. For the first time since she had arrived in Washington, for the first time since her father had died, she had felt true fear. And she hated fear.

 

            "I should kill you," she said. "Kill you right now. Like you did to your husband." She wasn't sure where the last part came from. It didn't feel like her words, nor did the accompanying flash of pity.

 

            If Antevorta was surprised that they had gathering that information, she didn't let it show. In fact, she seemed cavalier. "Oh, that? You know how men are, my dear. He lost his spine, as men are prone to do, and I just couldn't let him muddle things up for me. He wanted to stop selling illegal artifacts, and I didn't. He wanted to keep himself living, and I didn't. Simple as that." Her eyes glossed over for a moment, and then they moved to Ambrosia. "You must remember that, dear. Don't let anyone get in your way. Don't let them tell you what you should do. You are your own woman, and you can't let anyone change that."

 

            "You should die for this."

 

            "Is that judgment part of your job?"

 

            "No."

 

            Heat rose in her throat.

           

            "But you got in my way."

 

            She could barely speak through the burning.

 

            "And I can't let anyone do that."

 

            "Ambrosia."

 

            She turned. Mr. Bedell sat behind her, the wheels of his chair smudged with ash. With his hastily buttoned shirt and disheveled flannel pants, he looked as if he had just crawled out of bed.

 

            "Ambrosia," he repeated, "you shouldn't do that."

 

            Her eyes watered from the burn. "Why?"

 

            "It is not your place to give someone's death sentence. Council agents will be here soon, and they will take care of her. I know you feel angry, and you don't feel like yourself, but killing this woman will not make your anger fade. It will just make it worse."

 

            They stared at each other, neither moving.

           

            "Ambrosia," the angel said, "it's time to go home."

 

            Fire burst into the sky. Unable to keep it in bottle in her throat any longer, Ambrosia let the flame pour into the cold night air above her, filling the woods with light. She let the rage drain into that fire, let it carry away the burning power from her veins, the stars from her blood, the dust from her throat. Slowly the cosmos funneled from her diminutive form back into the sky where it belonged.

 

            When the light faded, she swayed. Darkness swam before her vision. She felt like a sponge that had been saturated with water and wrung out dry. Hands gripped her sides and she was lifted onto a pair of knees. Exhausted as she was, she managed a half-hearted grumble.

 

            "Come on," Mr. Bedell said, turning his chair towards the trees, "let's go find Eva."

12: Chapter 12

            “Ambrosia," Eva said impatiently, "for the last time, I am not an elf.”

           

            “Come on, you could totally be en elf! You’re short, you’ve got pointy ears—”

 

            “I don’t have—”

 

            “And you’re an empath! If those aren’t the makings of an elf, I don’t know what are. Look, just check out some old family albums or something—people still have those, right?—and I bet you’ll find some elven blood in those family portraits. Just check the front row.”

           

            “Hold on, aren’t elves supposed to be tall?”

 

            Ambrosia shot her a disgusted look. “What kind of books have you been reading?”

 

            “Um...ladies?”

 

            They looked up to see Mr. Bedell entering the living room, a tea tray on his lap. Eva, caught up in the light-hearted argument, had almost forgotten why they were sitting in Mr. Bedell’s house. She felt nerves settle in the pit of her stomach.

 

            “I’m sorry it took so long for us to all get together,” Mr. Bedell said as he handed her a cup of tea and set one in front of Ambrosia, who grumbled something about pretentious wizards and their vendetta against plain and simple coffee. “Judging by the fact that you're here, Eva, I'm assuming that all went well with your parents?"

 

            She nodded, fiddling with her teacup. "I had told them that I might stay the night at my friend's house, so they weren't too worried. They were a bit more worried about the fact that my "friend" convinced me to jump into a pool in the middle of the night, hence the water damage to my phone."

 

            Mr. Bedell gave her a surprised look. "I hadn't thought about explaining that. Clever. How did they respond?"

 

            "Well, first they yelled at me." She allowed a smile to slip across her face. "Then they congratulated me on acting like a real teenager for once."

 

            Ambrosia let out a genuine, barking laugh, almost spilling her cup. Eva's smile grew larger. In the short time they had known each other, this was the first time Eva heard the little wizard give anything more than an amused snort. Warm amusement radiated from Ambrosia like sunlight. Eva felt the warmth prickle her fingers and immediately wished she could feel it more.

 

            Mr. Bedell, however, brought them back to the solemn reality.

 

            "I'm glad you were prepared this time," he said, "but we can't ignore the fact that you were lucky. If Eva's powers had not activated when they did, you would both have perished."

 

            Eva felt the wind knocked from her lungs. She had known, of course, that their expedition a few days ago had almost ended in—well, she tried not to think about it. Not thinking about things, however, had never been one of her strong suits. She saw her brush with the grave around every corner, coming in flashes at night, during school, or even in the middle of pleasant family meals. At any time she could feel hands on her wrists or icy water in her lungs, weighing her down like bricks, making her heavy and sluggish and bloated. Everything seemed too cold.

 

            Realizing that her teacher was looking at her strangely, she gripped her teacup with one hand in the hopes that it would warm her twitching, frozen fingers, and reach up her other to absently scratch at the patch on her neck. Thanks to the spells written on it by Mr. Bedell, the bandage blended perfectly into her skin and hid the rapidly-healing burns on her neck which were courtesy of the small dog sitting to her left. Eva couldn't really complain, considering Ambrosia had saved her life, but she wished that the little wizard's powers were a bit less painful.

 

            "Can we just get this debriefing over with?" Ambrosia muttered, all humor gone. "I have work to do, and that blood wizard isn't going to find himself."

 

            "Very well. I'm going to start this the same way I start class—Eva, ask a question."

 

            Her mind had been swirling with questions since she first met Ambrosia, but now that the time finally came for answers, she couldn't think of a single thing to ask.

           

            "I've got a question," Ambrosia said, narrowing her eyes. "Why did you appear when you did? How did you know that we were in trouble?"

 

            "Oh, that's simple," he said. "Eva attempted to contract me via phone multiple times while you were in the house, correct? Well, Antevorta must have had some kind of jamming spell set in the building, because as soon as you two got outside the messages finally sent. That's how I knew to come get you."

 

            "That gave you what, three minutes? Maybe five? To go all the way across town and into the forest?"

 

            Mr. Bedell raised an eyebrow, as if wondering if they had forgotten that they were talking to an angel. Ambrosia grumbled and went back to glaring at her tea.

 

            "What's an empath?" Eva blurted out, speaking the first question that managed to surface.

 

            He blinked at the sudden question. After a few moments of silent brooding, he shook his gloom off and gave them a false smile. "Getting right to the point, hm? I'm sure you heard that term from somewhere." He shot Ambrosia an annoyed glance, as if frustrated that he hadn't been the one to reveal it. "To answer your question, Eva, is a difficult task, as the answer is long and—"

 

            "Oh, for phoenix's sake," Ambrosia snapped, dreading another long-winded explanation. She turned to Eva. "You're an empath. You have emotion-based magic. Congratulations."

 

            Mr. Bedell sighed. "To put it simply, yes. There are two types of empathetic abilities: osmotic empathy and contagious empathy. Understanding emotions on a deep level is osmotic empathy. Most sentient creatures have some form of natural, non-magical empathy, but osmotic empaths have emotional sensitivity to a supernatural degree. They may unknowing absorb others' emotions as their own, and are also use them to fuel magic—sometimes their own, and sometimes the magic of others, as you saw at Antevorta's home when you fueled Ambrosia. Contagious empathy, on the other hand, is the opposite. It involves pushing one's own emotions outward, manipulating the emotions of others." He paused, a troubled look overcoming his face. "Even to the point of near mind control. Eva, you must be very careful with contagious empathy. It is a dangerous power to have."

 

            Silence overtook them. Eva and Ambrosia glanced at each other, each remembering that mesmerizing voice, those fierce blue eyes. After a moment, Mr. Bedell shook his head and continued.

 

            "Of course, empaths have a wide range of abilities that I can't even begin to cover. Don't worry too much, Eva. Tens of thousands of empaths are born every year, and few even realize that there is anything different about them. There are, in fact, quite a few abilities like that. This is nothing too life-changing."

 

            Eva frowned, finding this all easier to take in than she thought. "But if I'm an empath and I can read emotions to a supernatural degree, wouldn't that make me, I don't know, better with people?"

 

            "I must admit, empaths do tend to be most extroverted than you. However, understanding emotions does not make one people-oriented. Also, because your powers are more pronounced than most, possibly due to exposure to magic early in your life, you might not always be able to decipher the strong signals your powers detect. Think of it like giving Shakespeare to a sixth grader—she may understand some of the book, but not all."

 

            Eva bit her lip. "So this...isn't a rare power?"

 

            "Not at all. In fact, I'd say we have a few empaths just in our school. For a long time I thought you to have some natural magic ability, but I wasn't positive until you confirmed your ability to ghost-touch." He smiled. "Which, by the way, is another empathic ability."

 

            Well, that didn't surprise her.

 

            "So...what I did with that ghost—what I did with Arthur..." She trailed off.

 

            "You didn't kill him," her teacher said quickly. "You cannot kill something that has no life. All you did was absorb enough of his energy to allow him to fade. Apparently you left just enough behind to allow him to help you one last time."

 

            Eva didn't want to think about Arthur; she still felt snatches of his distorted memory in the back of her mind, buzzing like bees. All this was a bit too much. She got to her feet.

 

            "Thank you for the tea," she said to her untouched cup, unable to meet Mr. Bedell's eyes. "But I really should get home sometime soo—"

 

            "Yes, yes, you're right. But we must discuss one more thing before you go. Understand, Eva, that your empathic abilities are great, and they are something to be celebrated. You will pick up magic quicker than most, due to your natural affiliation. However..." He paused. "I can not teach you."

 

            She looked up in surprise.

 

            "I'm sorry, Eva. My days as a mentor are over. I have neither the time nor the energy to show a bright young student the ways of the magical world." She sensed there was another reason, but he went on. "Don't worry, though. I have the perfect mentor in mind."

 

            It took Ambrosia a moment to realize that he was staring at her. She blinked in shock. "What?"

 

            Mr. Bedell's eyes twinkled with mirth. "This mentor is young, sure, but she is old in the ways of magic and could use a few extra hands."

 

            "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want a partner! I don't want someone getting in my way! And I certainly don't want to get this girl killed, which is likely to happen if I drag her along with me. Besides, what makes you think she wants a mentor?"

 

            Surprise snapped from him like a bolt of lightning. "Of course she does! It's what she's wanted all her life. Right, Eva?"

 

            Eva bit her lip, eyes dropping to the table.

 

            "Eva?"

 

            "You don't get it, do you?" Ambrosia growled. "She almost died. Now she's getting smart, and she's realizing that this world she's waited for isn't some wonderful place of goodness and unicorns and magic. It's like the real world, and the real world hurts."

 

            Ambrosia hopped from her seat and made for the door. "Now if you don't need me for anything else—not that you needed me here in the first place—I'll be on my way."

 

            "Ambrosia, wait!" Mr. Bedell said. "What can I do to convince you to take her under your wing?"

 

            Ambrosia paused at the doorway, back to them. After a moment she turned and said sweetly, "Do you know when I'll take her in?" Her face twisted into a sneer and she spat out her next words. "When pigs fly!"

 

            She slammed the door as she left. Eva could have sworn that heat lingered in the room.

 

            "Well," Mr. Bedell said with a sigh. "That could have gone better. Eva—"

 

            She flinched. "I-I'm sorry Mr. Bedell, but I really need to go."

 

            He opened his mouth to reply, but then she, too, was gone.

 

            Eva's finger skimmed the labels of the cereal boxes packed neatly in a row, not really paying attention to what she read. Mechanically, she picked up a box, looked at the front, and slipped it into her cart. Her fingers moved automatically to check the cereal off her wrinkled and smudged shopping list.

 

            When Eva went home she had been hoping to spend the rest of the night in blissful sulking, ruminating over all she had learned. Instead, her parents had called for her before she even made it up the stairs to her room.

 

            "Eva," her father called from the living room, not taking his eyes from his laptop, "could you pick up a few things from the supermarket? We need some food to tide ourselves over until the weekend, and you know how busy your mother and I are."

 

            For once in her life, she almost considered saying no. Instead, she somehow ended up taking the list from her mom and hurrying up the stairs. She paused in the hallway as the tone of a distant conversation caught her ear.

 

            "...just don't know where we went wrong," her mother was saying.

 

            "All kids are different," came her father's uncommitted reply.

 

            "But we have four children and none of them have had the same trouble with other people as she has. I thought we were doing so well when she was young, but then she kept spewing out all that nonsense about ghosts and I..."

 

            "Kids aren't always what you expect them to be. She gets good grades and doesn't cause much trouble, so I don't think we should blame ourselves just because she didn't turn out the way we wanted her to."

 

            Blinking back emotion, Eva grabbed her coat and headed for the store.

 

            She shook her head to clear the memories and snatched another box of cereal.

 

            "Passionate about whole grain, aren't you?"

 

            Her head snapped to the side. Grinning, the tall man next to her reached over and grabbed a box she had skimmed over.

 

            "I like the sugary stuff myself. It's horrible for me, sure, but I can't help it. I need my Marshmallow Puffs." He winked at her behind dark sunglasses, a strange accessory considering the dark clouds outside.

 

            She stared at him for a few moments, transfixed and slightly terrified, before vague memories snapped into place. "You're—"

 

            "Barry's housemate! Also, his driver and occasional bingo-buddy. Jack Dominic, resident satyr and music extraordinaire, at your service." He tossed the cereal into his cart and held out his hand with a shining, eat-your-heart-out grin. Eva stared at the curly hair sprouting from the back of his hand.

 

            Unperturbed by her blatant lack of response, he went on. "Look, I heard about your conversation with Barry. Don't worry, I don't blame you for your choice. I know the opinion of some guy who approached you in a supermarket after you only met him once doesn't mean much, but there it is."

 

            Eva's tongue felt tied. She could feel the sincerity in his words, an ability which she now knew was magical in nature, but wasn't quite sure of his intentions. She tried to dig into him, to pick at the signals coming from his words and actions, but they felt fuzzy and muddled, like static on a radio. Apparently knowing the nature of her abilities didn't make them any easier to use.

 

            "How about this?" Jack Dominic said, shooting her another blinding grin. "I'm helping a friend of mine out with some groceries, and I know how helpful you empath folks like to be. Why don't you give me a hand?"

 

            Eva really needed to learn how to say "no."

 

            Half an hour later she stood in the lobby of an old apartment building, paper bags weighing down her hands, as she wondered at the wisdom of agreeing to drive across town with a strange man she encountered in a supermarket.

 

            Well, she reasoned, he's housemates with an angel. He can't be too bad, can he?

 

            "Mr. Sage is a really great guy," Jack Dominic prattled as they ascended the stairs. "Usually he's pretty active, but he's been having trouble with his back lately so I've been doing some chores for him. He's a great story teller, you know—one of the best I've heard. And his tea is phenomenal. Home grown, too. Secret recipe. But anyway, if you get the chance, ask him to tell you some stories. He's been around so long that he's gathered quite a few."

 

            "Do you befriend all the old wizards in this town?"

 

            He shrugged. "It's a habit."

 

            Jack knocked on a door. After a few moments it swung open and Eva was assaulted with a violent display of green. Foliage sprouted from every corner of the apartment. Vines draped down the walls, providing a stringy texture of greens and browns, and trailed across the floor in complex patterns. Flowers exploded from a pot on the coffee table, sprung from the cracks in the worn couch, and stitched themselves into the beaten green carpet. They were in full bloom, defiantly denying the winter. The lights in the apartment gave off a gentle, golden glow, like miniature suns picked from the sky and set onto the ceiling.

 

            "Jack!" said a little old man in the doorway, who leaned heavily on a cane but looked up at the satyr with evident pleasure. "Good to see you. Come on in, and bring your little guest. I'll make some tea."

 

            The man hobbled to the kitchen. A few flowers stitched into the back of his vest waved hypnotically. Jack followed at a slower pace, grinning back at the transfixed girl who had yet to move from the doorway.

 

            "Oh yeah," he said, "did I mention that Sage is a hedgewizard?"

 

            After a few moments of staring at the wild display, Eva shook herself off and hurried to the kitchen. Jack was already putting away groceries, and Mr. Sage was fiddling with his stovetop, frustrated when it didn't obey his bidding and heat the kettle.

 

            "Consarn it," he muttered. "Jack?"

 

            With a subtle smirk, Jack reached along the counter and pressed his palm against the kettle. Hazy lines of red light spread across the metallic surface, following etchings that ran along the kettle like hieroglyphs. The kettle shuttered, and then steam erupted from its mouth in a steady trickle.

 

            "Much obliged," the old hedgewizard said. "You satyrs always have so much magic about you—I think that's why Barry keeps you around."

 

            "That, and my dashing good looks."

 

            They shared a chuckle as Eva looked on in bemusement, feeling a tad out of place.

 

            Mr. Sage took a seat at the kitchen table, leaning back with a contented sigh. He set his cane aside and gestured for Eva to sit as well. Unsure what else to do, she obeyed. A flower from the large snapdragon plant in the center of the table swung around to face her. She could have sworn it grinned.

 

            "I haven't seen you around before, young lady, so I assume you're one of Jack's friends."

 

            The satyr leaned against the table, forgoing a chair. "This is Eva. She's a recent addition to the world of magic, but she's a bit unsure."

 

            The hedgewizard nodded to the girl in understanding. "You're afraid."

 

            She flinched.

 

            "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Fear is natural—fear is good. Do not be embarrassed. The key is to feel your fear, to accept it, and then move on despite it. And you must always remember to move on."

 

            That felt like familiar advise. Ambrosia had told her almost the same thing.

 

            Jack nodded. "See, Barry's trying to shove her into this whole thing without much context. You know, his usual shtick. But he doesn't realize that his methods aren't always the way to go about it. He just expects her to accept his offer, because he doesn't see things the way she does. He doesn't see the danger through her eyes." His eyes searched for Eva's own and locked their gazes. "There are things you need to hear to make your decision, but the others won't say. Ambrosia, for whatever reason, doesn't want anyone too close to her. Barry—well, he's stuck in his ways. In the way that wizards have done for centuries, he mistakes withholding information for protection. He thinks you can't know anything before he has a chance to mold you, because if you do, you won't be able to handle it. But I know better, Eva. I don't know you, not really, but I know that you are strong. Barry wants to protect you, Eva, but I'm going to empower you."

 

            Mr. Sage cleared his throat. "I believe he means that we're going to empower you."

 

            "Sorry," Jack teased. "You were so still for a moment I thought you were a shrub."

 

            Eva's head swirled as the two bickered playfully. She felt even more confused than ever. Finally, after Jack had checked the kettle and the two men had settled down, she spoke.

 

            "There's...there's something I don't understand. You're talking as if I have a choice."

 

            The satyr raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Of course you have a choice!"

 

            "But I can't just...forget what I've been through. What I've seen."
 

            "Sure you can." He chuckled at Eva's stricken look. "Another instance of Barry failing to tell you something. See, he's licensed for memory wiping spells. They're a bit dangerous, sure, but he's good at them and it's a lot easier when the person isn't resisting. If you really don't want to go through with this, you don't have to. You can have a second chance."

 

            A second chance. Did she really want to forget it all? Ambrosia, Mr. Bedell, that horrible psychic with her fake snakes and howling dead husband? The freezing river replacing her blood with ice, the twisted blood wizard with his icy eyes and pounding rage? Eva shuddered. A few weeks ago she would never have dreamed of giving it up, but now she wasn't so sure. Maybe it would be better to just forget.

 

            Mr. Sage set a cup of steaming tea in front of her, winking conspiringly. "But don't make your decision yet, aye lass? Jack didn't bring you here to give up."

 

            She looked up at Jack, who grinned and raised his cup. "Enough of this heavy stuff! Let's drink some tea and here some stories from our resident raconteur!"

 

            He took a swig of burning-hot tea and immediately sputtered out a painful yelp.

 

            Eva was surprised with how much she enjoyed the next two hours. Mr. Sage, in agreement with Jack's previous statement, proved himself to be an adept storyteller. His stories were no more extraordinary than the ones she read in books, but the fact that she knew them to be real gave them a truly magical quality that melted away the rest of the world until the only things to exist were a satyr, a girl, and an ancient hedgewizard weaving tales of wonder into the air.

 

            He was halfway through a story about a bird rising from fire when Jack opened the window and called back to them, "The moon's out!"

 

            Mr. Sage grinned, unperturbed at the interruption. "Ah, so that was your plan all along."

 

            Collecting their empty cups with an air of fake innocence, Jack merely shrugged. "Eva's seen the bad part of magic plenty. It's about time she saw the good of it too."

 

            He led them out onto a balcony. Plant boxes hung from both sides of the railing, bursting with flowers and leaves. At this time of night the flowers hid their faces from the moonlight, but a certain type of flower caught her eye. Its silver-speckled leaves glowed in the moon, and its sealed flowers seemed large and swollen, drooping to the point where she feared they would snap off. Mr. Sage settled into the only chair on the balcony. He squinted at the moon, nodded to himself, and motioned toward Jack. The satyr ducked into the house and reappeared a moment later with a watering bucket. With a charismatic flourish, he sprinkled water onto the silver-speckled plants.

 

            Droplets beaded on the wide leaves. She watched as the water ran down, glimmering, and dropped onto the balcony floor. Something was off. The droplets were glowing too much from just moonlight. After a moment, she realized that she was right; silver light was gleaming out from between the petals of the tightly closed flowers. She watched, entranced, as the glow slowly increased until the world was flooded with soft, silver light. A few runes on the surrounding buildings blushed to life in the presence of the delicate silver—masking it, Eva assumed, from any prying eyes.

 

            Subtle movement snapped her eyes back to the nearest flower. Its petals shifted hesitantly, as if unsure of themselves, and began to slowly curl back. The light almost blinded Eva, but she squinted her eyes and allowed them to adjust. By the time she could see again, the petals had uncurled completely. A tiny star sat in the open flower, twinkling with a silver light, as if it had been plunked from the wide expanse above. Around them, other stars glimmered in the other silver plants. Light danced off the surrounding plants, the balcony floor, the chair in which Mr. Sage sat, the camera phone held lightly in Jack's hand...

 

            Wait, was he recording this?

 

            A pulse of light caught her attention. The little stars wavered and then, unexpectedly, rose from their beds. She watched, entranced, as they slowly circled the flowers and shot into the air, streaking silver like falling stars. They shot above the Eva's head, above the building, and continued into the air until they were mere glimmers in the sky. After a long moment, they began to grow. No, that wasn't right—they were coming back down. Moving slowly now, giving off pulses of gentle light, the stars made their way onto the balcony and settled into the flowerbeds. When the light faded, Eva saw that they now formed smooth white flowers.

 

            Eva let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. The beautiful display made her head swim. Without a word, Jack reached over and grabbed one of the smooth white flowers.

 

            Grinning, he pressed it into her hand. "Here, keep this with you. It may come in handy some day."

 

            Eva closed her fingers around the flower. It was smooth but tough, like polished stone, but it was light as plastic. Somehow, the slight blemishes and nicks in its surface, akin to those on a real flower, made it even more beautiful.

 

            "Ah, moonflowers," Mr. Sage said with satisfaction, leaning back in his chair. "Best time of the month. That was a good harvest, too." He shot a smile towards Jack, who was tapping away at his phone, and turned to Eva. "I know that this is a poor representation of the good side of magic, and might not change your mind at all, but I want you to understand that for every ugly part of magic, there is a beautiful part as well. If I have anything else to say to you, it is this: the magical world has a place for you. It has a place for everyone who wishes to enter it."

 

            For some reason Eva felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She furiously scrubbed at them, not wanting Mr. Sage to see.

 

            He smiled. "They will tell you that magic is all about math and science, but it's not. It's about heart."

 

            Eva stared at the flower in her hand.

 

            "Speaking of heart," Jack said, "we should probably get inside before ours' freeze to death."

 

            He ushered them inside and set about preparing another round of tea to warm their fingers, occasionally pausing to tap at his phone.

 

            "Say, Eva," Mr. Sage said. "Jack mentioned earlier that you picked up a knife from your recent escapade. I might be able to tell you something about the design. May I take a look?"

 

            Flushing, she took the knife from her hip, where she had been concealing it for the past few days, and handed it to him. "I, uh, feel bad about taking it, but I haven't really had a chance to give it back yet."

 

            If anyone asked why she had been carrying it, she would say that it would be the best place to hide it. In reality, it made her feel safer. 

 

            "If Barry knows you have it and hasn't taken it yet, I'm sure he means you to keep it," he said, taking the knife and looking it over. His fingers ghosted along the symbol on the hilt, which depicted a bird rising before a full moon, and a small smile lit his face. He handed it back to her with nothing more than, "A good knife."

 

            She wanted to ask him about the symbol, but had a feeling that she wouldn't get an answer.

 

            "Now, I understand that you have a lot to think about, but—"

 

            "Eva," Jack said. Their attention immediately snapped towards his serious voice.

 

            "I hate to rush your decision." He held up his phone, the text lighting his face. "But I think Ambrosia needs your help."

13: Chapter 13

            The dim glow of the cell phone lit the darkness like a dying fire. Ambrosia paced the small room, skirting the dim anti-magic runes scrawled across the floor. She shot occasional glares to the phone, as if her impatience fueled its speed. A single sentence glowed on the screen:

 

            Help’s on the way.

 

            Yeah, right.

           

            A red battery appeared on screen, signaling her low charge. After a few minutes, the screen went black.

 

            “You know,” Ralf had said one night when she whipped out her busted flip-phone, “someday that thing’s going to fail you, and you’ll be left in the dark.”

 

            Ambrosia hadn’t thought he meant it literally.

 

            Her ears perked. Footsteps. She slipped beneath a shelf beside the door and strained her hearing. The footsteps were quick and light, increasing in volume as they neared. Her mind churned as she tried to decipher them. Would the vampire allow herself to be heard? Maybe she was trying for a psychological approach—Ambrosia could think of no other reason why she would lock a bounty hunter in a closet, unless she was grabbing some barbeque sauce.

 

            Something jiggled the handle. Ambrosia breathed in deeply, but the foul scent of bleach blocked out all other smells. A small scratching sound filled the room. The little wizard held her breath, claws digging into the floor. If she could pounce at just the right moment…

 

            The door flew open. With a snarl, Ambrosia darted out from under the shelf and pounced.

 

            Shrieking, Eva jumped to the side. She stumbled over her own feet and fell heavily to the floor as Ambrosia sailed gracefully past her and rolled into the wall.

 

            “Oof!” Ambrosia said, rubbing her nose. “Keep it down, would you? It’s the middle of the night!”

 

            “S-sorry. I don’t usually expect small dogs to pounce at me when I open doors!” Eva stammered. She glanced at her watch with a frown. “Also, it’s only ten.”

 

            “Whatever. What are you doing here?”

 

            “I followed the scorch marks.”

 

            Ambrosia looked up. Black marks smears along the walls of the hallway from her previous fight with the vampire. “Fair enough. But I meant, why are you here?”

 

            “Uh. To open the door.”

 

            “You’re my help?”

 

            A quiet hiss drifted into the hallway. Ambrosia hurried in the other direction. “Never mind. Just follow me.”

 

             They jogged through the hallway, following the scorch marks. Eva slid Ambrosia’s phone into her pocket.

 

            “You know,” Eva said with surprising calm, “you always seem to find your way into storage closets. It seems kind of inconvenient for someone without hands.”

 

            “At least now I can use a door-opening spell. Well, when a spell isn't blocking my magic anyway. Whatever you did back there in the stream, it seemed to open up my magic a bit.”

 

            Eva shuttered at the mention of the stream. She hugged her arms to her stomach and didn’t answer. The two made their way through the halls until they arrived at the entrance. There, Ambrosia ducked into the office and pulled out her bag from where she had hidden it beneath a desk.

 

            “Just one question,” Eva said as the wizard rummaged through the bag.

 

            “Just one? That’s a record.”

 

            She didn’t rise to the teasing, merely arching her eyebrows instead. “What are you doing in my school?”

 

            “I’ll answer your question with one of my own. Did you know,” she pulled a bottle of water out of her pack, “that your teacher is a vampire?”

 

            Eva took the water. The label read in clear black print, ‘Saint Michael’s Holy Water: Bottled Fresh.’

 

            She stared at it for a moment, and then shook her head. “Um, which one?”

 

            “Can’t remember the name. Tall. Black hair. Name starts with an S.”

 

            “Ms. Schechter?”

 

            “That’s the one.”

 

            “Huh. I can’t say I’m surprised. She was always hated sunny days.”

 

            “You seem to be taking this surprisingly well.”

 

            “I learned a few days ago that my math teacher is an angel. I’m trying not to let too much shock me. Why are you hunting her down now, though? Is being a vampire illegal?”

 

            “I thought you only had one question,” Ambrosia muttered. “No, just being a vampire will not get you arrested. If it did, Ralf would be in big trouble. You can be a vampire in this town without causing issues. But when you start preying on students and stirring up questions, you can expect a bounty on your head.”

 

            The wizard tugged a wooden stake out of her bag. Eva looked between the water bottle and the stake with a silent question.

 

            “Yes, this stuff actually works! Some legends are just that, legends, but others have some truth to them.” She frowned. “Unfortunately the cross I wore during my scouting didn’t work out. It’s the faith that fuels the magic which wards off vampires, and I guess vampires aren’t fooled by false faith.”

 

            “Do you have anything else in there?”

 

            “What, a water bottle and a stick aren’t good enough for you?”

 

            Eva bit her lip and slipped something out from her belt. Ambrosia stepped back. A silver knife glinted in the dim moonlight streaming into the office.

 

            “Came equipped, did you?” she said. “I don’t suppose you have any brilliant ideas to nab that vampire as well?”

 

            Eva rolled the water bottle in her hands. She bit her lip again, but this time she seemed to be hiding a smile. “This stuff really works?”

 

            “Yeah.”

 

            “Then I think I might.”

 

            Ambrosia crept through the dark hallways. The lockers seemed bigger than they should be, looming over her in shadow. She wondered what it would be like to go to normal high school, with lockers and backpacks and teachers who might actually be vampires. The only public schooling she could remember went up to third grade, when she had gotten into a fight with a boy and accidentally sent him to the hospital.

 

            Her dad homeschooled her after that.

 

            Shaking off the memories, Ambrosia continued her hunt. She could not help but feel that she was the one being hunted, which was very likely considering her choice of prey. In her line of work, the line between hunter and prey tended to blur.

 

            The scorch marks on the walls eventually led her back to the closet where the vampire had trapped her. Fresh claw marks scoured the door. Obviously, the vampire wasn’t happy about her escape. Ambrosia paused to listen, but the halls were silent. Her eyes strayed down to her paws. If she had hands she could set up a tracking spell, but in her current body such a task would take too long. Well, there was more than one way to track a vampire.

 

            Ambrosia set her nose before the door and breathed in deeply. The predictable scent of wood, disinfectant, and hundreds of oily hands assaulted her nose, but beneath it all she could detect the subtle, distinctive smell of nail polish. She lifted her nose from the door and breathed in the air of the hallway. Immediately she was bombarded by hundreds of scents. The overwhelming attack almost sent her reeling. Brushing away floor polish, shoes, perfume, bubblegum, paper, and her own magic, she dove deeper into the complex weaving of scents. There, mixed and mashed with countless other signals, she found the faint trail of nail polish and ash.

 

            “Found you,” she whispered, hurrying after the trail.

 

            It eventually led her to a closed door at the end of a hallway. Beside the door sat a plaque: “Room 205, Abigail Schechter.”

 

            “Anyone home?” she called loudly, scratching obnoxiously at the door. “Delivery service! Did someone here order twenty-two cans of butt-whooping?”

 

            A loud hiss broke through the hall. Ambrosia jumped aside just in time to avoid being skewered by the vampire bursting from the room, her long, freshly-painted nails slashing the air.

 

            “Must be you,” Ambrosia said.

 

            The vampire screeched at her, too frustrated to banter. Bits of her suit and hair were scorched, and the tip of one fang was chipped where Ambrosia had slammed a locker in her face—neither of them were sure exactly how that had happened, but it certainly hadn’t done much for the vampire's mood.

 

            “Right,” Ambrosia said as heat built up in her throat. “Sign here please.”

 

            She breathed out. Flames leapt from her throat and rushed towards the vampire, who ducked back into the room to avoid them. Ambrosia turned and ran. Beneath the pounding of her own heart, she heard the hurried click-clack of high-heeled pursuit. Ambrosia poured her energy into running, hoping that her awkward legs would carry her fast enough to outrun an enraged and extremely frustrated vampire. She skidded around one corner, and then another. The sound of high heels on linoleum disappeared to be replaced by the cracking of leathery wings. Reaching a long stretch of hallway, Ambrosia risked a glance back. The vampire shot through the hall, the tips of her bat-like wings almost brushing the lockers on either side.

 

            They passed a chalk mark on the floor. Ambrosia turned the corner.

 

            "Now!" she shouted.

 

            Eva stepped out from around the corner, pointed the water gun at the approaching vampire, and pulled the trigger.

 

            The vampire screamed as holy water sizzled on her skin. She shot past the girls, wings crumpling to her sides as she slammed into the floor and skidded across the tiles. Screeching with anger and pain, she came to an unpleasant stop against the wall. She began to struggle to her knees, but Ambrosia was ready for her. The wizard set her paws on the floor and pumped energy into the runes she had previously drawn across the tiles. Orange light zipped through the chalk lines. Magic ropes shot up around the vampire and wrapped around her limbs. She screeched and struggled against the binds, her magic lashing out in tendrils of smoky red. Ambrosia felt the spell begin to give.

 

            "I need more power!" Ambrosia shouted to Eva. "Just like I showed you!"

 

            Eva stared at the struggling vampire.

 

            "Eva, now!"

 

            She dropped the gun and knelt down next to Ambrosia. Her hands hovered uncertainly over the runes, but a grunt from Ambrosia propelled them forward to press against two glowing circles in the spell. She closed her eyes.

 

            Nothing happened.

 

            "Eva!"

 

            "I—I'm trying!"

 

            The vampire jerked from her bonds. Orange ropes sprang from the runes at claw at her limbs, but she slashed them away and lurched towards Ambrosia, he bright nails gleaming in the magic light. She reached towards the girls.

 

            Purple light surged through the runes. Orange and purple mixed like a kaleidoscope image as more ropes leapt from the runes. The grape and tangerine tendrils latched around the vampire, practically incasing her in a thick layer of color. The smell of grapes and new books flooded the room. Ambrosia threw one last burst of power into the spell and detached herself to grab the leather bag sitting where Eva had previously been hiding. She quickly opened it with her teeth and dragged out the silver handcuffs by rubber grip on the chain.

 

            "Sorry, Ms. Schechter," Eva whispered as Ambrosia approached.

 

            The little wizard tossed the handcuffs at the vampire. Before the vampire could even move, she found her wrists encased by hissing, glowing silver bands. The orange and purple glow faded, leaving only chalk marks on the floor and a struggling vampire. Ms. Schechter glared at her captor.

 

            "Don't even think about trying anything," Ambrosia said smugly. "That silver will absorb any of your magic, and I can activate the shock-spell on those things with nothing more than a word."

 

            The vampire bared her fangs and spit something out in an ancient tongue—something which Ambrosia didn't understand, but was certainly not appropriate for minor ears. Speaking of minors...

 

            "Not bad, Eva," Ambrosia said, turning to her. "That wasn't as horrible as I thought it—"

 

            The girl was gone. Looking around, Ambrosia saw a door standing wide open. The faint smell of fresh air seeped through it.

 

            "Stay," Ambrosia told the vampire. She hurried through the door.

 

            The trail of fresh air led her up two flights of stairs and through another door. Eva knelt in the center of the roof, staring up at the stars. Wind tickled at her hair. She didn't look as Ambrosia approached.

 

            "How-how do you do it?" Eva whispered. Ambrosia could hear her struggled breathing.

 

            She shrugged. "It gets easier. Usually. Sort of. I mean, it never gets perfect, but..." She trailed off, shrugging awkwardly. "It gets easier."

 

            Eva closed her eyes and let her head droop. She had one hand to her chest as she tried to control her breathing. Ambrosia scanned the night sky.

 

            "We should get out of here," she said. "Come on."

 

            "Give me another minute. I just shot my science teacher with a water gun and practically melted her face. I need a moment to recover."

 

            They sat in silence as Eva's breathing evened out. Eventually she shook herself slightly and looked at Ambrosia with a slight frown.

 

            "Why did you have to do this now? Why couldn't you wait until you, I don't know, had hands again?"

 

            She shrugged. "Rent's due next week. I needed a bounty. But seriously, we need to go."

 

            "Just...just one more question. Why did you let me help you? Earlier today you seemed so adamant about not wanting anything to do with me, but tonight you didn't even try to tell me to go home. Why now?"

 

            Ambrosia was silent for a moment, eyes scanning the sky. At last she sighed and looked to Eva. "I keep my promises."

 

            "What?"

 

            Thump!

 

            They looked up. On the far side of the roof, a figure rose to its feet. Moonlight glimmered off of the icy wings attached to its back. The appendages looked like hundreds of thin shards of ice melted onto a flexible frame. The figure stepped towards them, baring its teeth.

 

            "Found you again!" the pig demon snarled.

 

            "Do you know when I'll take her in?" Ambrosia had said. "When pigs fly!"

 

            She really needed to learn to hold her tongue.

 

            "I'm pretty sure fate hates me," Ambrosia muttered. Heat built up in her throat, but when she opened her mouth all she could expel was smoke. She coughed painfully.

 

            "Ambrosia!" Eva squeaked, holding her knife out like a sword. "D-do something!"

 

            "I'm trying!" she snapped through a wave of dizziness. After not being able to use her magic for a time, she had overexerted herself. Perfect.

 

            The pig charged. Ambrosia rolled to the side, seeing Eva dart towards the door from the corner of her eye. The pig streaked past where they had been and came to a clumsy halt, wings flapping awkwardly. An idea popped into Ambrosia's head.

 

            "Hey bacon bits!" she shouted. "Over here!"

 

            The pig turned to her with a snarl. She wagged her tail mockingly and darted towards the edge of the roof. The pig charged after her. She skidded to a halt at the edge, feeling the wind tug at her fur and try to drag her down. She turned back to the pig. It didn't even slow down. When it was practically on top of her, she rolled out of the way.

 

            The pig charged off the roof. Its snarls of fury turned to squeals of fear as it flailed through the air. Its wings flapped awkwardly as it attempted to slow its fall, but it couldn't stop itself from slamming into the bushes with a rancorous crash. Ambrosia peered over the edge of the roof as the pig groaned in a wreckage of twigs and leaves. One of its wings had almost snapped off entirely.

 

            "Wow," she said. "I can't believe that actually worked. I wonder where it got those things."

 

            She looked back at Eva, who was peering from behind the door with her mouth hung open.

 

            "Hey Eva, do you still have my phone? We're going to need a clean-up crew."

 

            "Ha! Ha! Ha!"

 

            Ambrosia froze as a harsh laughter rang across the rooftop. She whirled around, but they were the only ones on the roof. Below, the pig demon was still dazed.

 

            "Ha! Ha! Ha!"

 

            "Uh...Ambrosia?"

 

            She turned to Eva. The girl pointed. A crow perched above the door leading inside, its glossy feathers dully reflecting the moonlight. As they watched, it opened its sharp beak and let out another laugh.

 

            "Ha! Ha! Ha!"

 

            Rolling her eyes, Ambrosia jogged across the rooftop and through the door, ignoring the laughing crow. Eva stared at the bird for a moment, and then followed. Its laughter rang after them until the door slammed shut.

 

            The crow's eyes gleamed. It let out one last laugh, more for its own amusement than anything else, and then it took to the air and disappeared.

 

14: Chapter 14

            Ambrosia moved silently through the dark. Moonlight slipped through the cracks in boarded windows, throwing bright silver stripes across the warehouse floor. Her feet stirred up clouds of swirling dust. Staying low to the ground, she slowly made her way to the opposite wall and pressed against it, listening. Silence. She crept along the wall and paused at a door. Her breaths came quiet and calm, despite the battle instincts roaring in her head. Her shoulder pressed lightly against the door and it cracked open with a hideous squeak. She flinched. When no sound emerged from the dark room, she slipped inside.

 

            After a few moments, her eyes adjusted. She stood in a dusty bathroom that obviously hadn't been used in years. Even the dirt layer on the floor suggested a lack of any recent occupation. Nonetheless, she checked the stalls. Nothing. Shaking her head with frustration, Ambrosia turned around and came face-to-face with the mirrors.

 

            She frowned, staring at her dim reflection. After a few moments, she reached up a hand and tucked a chunk of red hair back into her ponytail.

 

            "Why do I even keep it this long?" she muttered.

 

            Her radio squawked. She snatched it from her belt.

 

            "Anything over there?" a voice asked.

 

            "No, this area's clear." Ambrosia left the bathroom, not even bothering to keep her voice quiet anymore. "Are you sure you got those reports right, Dad?"

 

            "Of course I did! There's supposed to a big red ghost around here causing trouble—messing with people on the streets and such. We're just not seeing anything yet."

 

            "Well, let's regroup and plan out our next move. I'll come over and meet you in the parking lot."

 

            "No need."

           

            Ambrosia turned around. He father stood in a beam of silver moonlight, smiling. Ambrosia felt a cold twinge in her gut, but she ignored it.

 

             Her father hefted his oversized crowbar onto his shoulder. "Alright, Amber. There's one more place for us to check. Let's head to the basement."

 

            "Basement? I didn't know this place had a..."

 

            "Yep! C'mon, it's this way."

 

            Ambrosia didn't remember following him, but suddenly they stood before a dark stairway leading towards. Ambrosia frowned. The cold twinge grew.

 

            "I don't think we should go down there," she said.

 

            "What's wrong, Amber? Afraid?"

 

            A flair of indignity surged through her veins, but the coldness cleared her head. "No, this just...doesn't feel right."

 

            "That's funny, it almost sounds like you're disagreeing with."

 

            Ambrosia turned. Her father suddenly seemed very close, looming over her with an otherworldly largeness. She tried to step back, but her feet were frozen to the floor.

 

            "Dad—"

 

            "You're not disagreeing with me, are you, Amber?"

 

            She squared her shoulders. "Yes, actually, I—"

 

            Her head snapped back. Pain flared in her jaw and she stumbled, falling to the floor before she even realized what happened. She stared up at her father.

 

            "I said," he growled, his hand raised for another blow, "you're not disagreeing with me, are you?"

 

            She touched a hand to her stinging jaw.

 

            "This isn't right," she said slowly. Her vision began to blur. Something was wrong.

 

            "I am your father, and you are my daughter. You will obey me."

 

            "No," she said, getting to her feet. The coldness stung at her eyes, but this was a different kind of coldness—one full of grief. "This isn't right—"

 

            His hand shot towards her.

 

            "—because you're dead."

 

            The world erupted into flames.

 

            Ambrosia jolted to her feet, flailing off of the couch she had fallen asleep on and onto the floor. Her breathing came deep and ragged. She stumbled to her feet, mind churning, and made her clumsy way to the bathroom. With her sleep-addled brain it took her longer than usual to clamber up the stool and onto the counter. Her tired reflection stared back at her, as fuzzy as ever. She lifted a paw to brush it along her ear.

 

            Brrrrrrring~!

 

            Ambrosia grimaced, but made her way to the living room and glared at the text on her phone. _­­­

 

            Ready for training today. 5 at the park right? – Eva

 

            She tapped a reply with her clumsy claws, which mostly ended up being a mass of vaguely confirmatory letters. It was barely past eight in the morning. She slipped out through the window and sat on the fire escape, hoping that the rising sun would chase the coldness from her gut.

 

            "Again!"

 

            Biting her lip with concentration, Eva wound back her arm. She flung it forward, flicking her wrist as if throwing a baseball. An orb of purple light shot towards Ambrosia. The little wizard darted to the side, allowing the orb to explode against the grass with a dim flash.

 

            "H-how long are we going to keep doing this?" Eva said, running a hand along her forehead.

 

            "Oh, come on. We've only been at it for ten minutes! Again."

 

            Eva flicked another orb her way. It fell flat, landing at Ambrosia's feet.

 

            She frowned. "Nice aim."

 

            Eva paused to trace the runes Ambrosia had drawn on her palm. They glowed purple beneath her touch. "It's so weird," she said softly. "Just a few lines can create light from nothing."

 

            "It's not from nothing. It's from the manna all around us. Haven't you been reading those books I gave you? It's been a week."

 

            Eva grimaced, obviously picturing the stack of books Ambrosia had gathering to help her learn the basics. "I didn't even understand half of the words in those books. Don't you have, I don't know, "Magic for Dummies" or something?"

 

            "Of course not. And don't blame me if those books are too tough. Bedell got rid of all his beginner books when he stopped taking in apprentices. Besides, this method is how my dad taught me about magic."

 

            "Shooting things?"

 

            "Yep!"

 

            Eva sighed and sat on a rickety bench. They had chosen to train in a small clearing, surrounded by overgrown trees. Ambrosia's sensitive ears caught the distant sounds of people in the more populated part of the park. Here, they were protected from prying ears and eyes. Ambrosia had even set up a few alarm spells in the area to alert them if anyone came near.

 

            Before Ambrosia could continue their practice, Eva spoke up. "Any new leads on Argent?"

 

            "The blood wizard? No. I found somewhere that might help, but we have to gather the information ourselves. Ralf can't help us."

 

            "Why not?"

 

            Ambrosia frowned, glaring through the trees as if she could find her enemy among them. "He's only supposed to help me with Council business. Bounties, and such. The only reason he helped me locate the dragon tooth—not that we ever found it—is because harboring dragon teeth is illegal and therefore a Council matter."

 

            "Isn't blood magic illegal? Even if you only saw it once, wouldn't that need a Council investigation?"

 

            "That's the thing—Ralf did investigate. And he found nothing. He searched for suspicious sightings that matched the blood wizard's appearance and any reports of people rummaging around for artifacts like dragon teeth. He even looked in the criminal records—"

 

            "Criminal records?"  

 

            "That's the strangest part. Those anti-magic runes on his arm are only put on criminals. The Council is the only place that can make them. The runes so effective that they're supposed to last forever. If he has them, it means that the Council didn't want him to cause any more trouble. Permanently. But when Ralf checked the records, he was nowhere to be found."

 

            "So who put them on him?"

 

            "I don't think that's the question. The question is who decided to erase him from the records."

 

            Eva stared at her for a long moment. Finally the pieces clicked together. "He has friends in high places."

 

            She nodded. "He's an empath. Manipulation is what they do."

 

            Eva flinched.

 

            Mentally cursing herself, Ambrosia tried to backpedal. "Er, I mean, not like you're manipulative. And not like that's all your good for. And—"

 

            The scent of orange and ashes filled the air. The fur tingled along her back. She whirled around, staring the rune she had scrawled on a tree. It glowed when her alarm spells activated, and now it was blazing.

 

            "Ambrosia?"

 

            The little wizard hurried over to Eva and jumped up next to her on the bench. She gave her a silencing glare. Just as Eva opened her mouth to ask a question, a young couple strolled into the clearing. The woman held a toddler by the hand and was talking to the man animatedly. When they noticed the girl and the dog, they stopped.

 

            "Oh, I'm sorry," the woman said. "We didn't know that anyone was out here."

 

            "I—It's okay," Eva said. "I was just, uh..." She shot a look at Ambrosia, and inspiration bloomed on her face. Ambrosia felt a jolt of dread. "I was just playing with my dog!"

 

            Eva ducked beneath the bench, as if grabbing something, and came back up with a dim orb of purple. She tossed it into the grass.

 

            "Fetch!"

 

            Ambrosia glared. The orb sat in the grass, glowing dimly. Eva made an encouraging gesture towards the ball, her face betraying her enjoyment. Looking between the couple and Eva, Ambrosia let out a weary sigh. She hopped to the ground and grabbed the orb in her jaws. Her grip was light enough that it didn't dissipate. Mentally cursing the girl she had mistakenly taken under her wing, Ambrosia approached the bench and let the orb fall to the ground.

 

            "Woof," she said, stilling glaring.

 

            Eva shot the couple a thumbs-up. The man and woman exchanged glances.

 

            "Mommy!" the child said. "I wanna pet the doggie!"

 

            Okay, this was where she drew the line. Ambrosia let out a shrill bark, lifting her lip back in a snarl.

 

            Yanking the child closer, the woman led her family away from the clearing. Eva waved.

 

            "You enjoyed that," Ambrosia said accusingly.

 

            "I don't know what you're talking about."

 

            "For an empath, you're a terrible liar."

 

            Eva grinned bashfully and bent down to pick up the orb. It faded before she could touch it. "This spell is cool and all, but can we try something else?"

 

            "I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to let you play with the laws of physics."

 

            "No, look, it's simple. I found something in one of the books I read." She rummaged around in her backpack, eventually producing one of the books Ambrosia had grabbed from her shelf. The wizard hopped up onto the bench as Eva flipped through the pages. Her finger pointed to a simple maze of runes. "Right there. If I'm reading this correctly, which I might not be, it's a noise-canceling spell that wraps around the user like a shell."

 

            "Why do you want a soundproof spell?"

 

            Eva blushed. "My room is right next to my sister's."

 

            "So?"

 

            "She's learning the guitar."

 

            Ambrosia squinted at it, trying to decipher the runes. "Looks like it creates a soundproof barrier using a shell of antinoise. You just need the dimensions of the barrier, a basic understanding of the antinoise-producing components..."

 

            They spent the next hour decoding the spell. Ambrosia wanted Eva to understand every aspect of the spell. If they accidentally misplaced one rune they could produce a shell that excluded both sound and oxygen. Ambrosia forced her to copy down the spell again and again on paper until she would see it in her dreams. When they were finally satisfied, Eva deduced the dimensions for the spell and together they marked it out on the bench's surface, the only flat space they could find.

 

            "Ready?" Ambrosia asked, scanning the runes for any mistakes. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken such care with a spell.

 

            "Sure," Eva said. "How long are you going to keep that other spell running?"

 

            "What other..." Ambrosia trailed off. Her head whipped around the clearing. The rune on the tree glowed a steady orange.

 

            Someone was here.

 

            "Eva," Ambrosia said under her breath, "how long has that rune been glowing?"

 

            "I-I don't know. I noticed it a bit after those people left..."

 

            Ambrosia cursed. She had been too distracted by the spell to notice. Her eyes raked through the trees, but she saw no movement. There was only squirrels and birds. Something touched her back. She flinched away, but it was only Eva. The girl pointed.

 

            A crow stood hunched on a branch above the glowing tree, staring at them with glossy eyes. When it noticed them looking, it opened its beak and let out a croaking laugh.
 

            "Ha! Ha! Ha!"

 

            "I-it's following us," Eva whispered.

 

            "No, it's not."

 

            "It is! I-I've seen it all week. It has to be following us."

 

            "No," Ambrosia said. "It's not following us. It's following you."

 

            Eva stared at the crow, eyes wide. The bird opened its mouth to let out another laugh, but before it could move anger surged through Ambrosia veins. She let out a burst of bright fire.

 

            Squawking, the crow dove from the flames. The fire licked at the branches, but left only a bit of charred leaves in its wake. Ambrosia rushed after the bird. Heat burned in her throat. How dare this bird think it could mock her? How dare it stand before them and have the gall to laugh?

 

            "Show yourself!" she snarled at the retreating figure, ducking through the trees. Undergrowth bit at her feet. "Show your true self, you coward!"

 

            She burst from the trees. The crow wheeled away, aiming itself towards the abandoned section of the town. Ambrosia opened her mouth to give it a parting goodbye of burnt tail feathers, but stopped herself short. A family sat on a picnic table, staring at her. Behind them, children frolicked on the playground.

 

            Clearing her throat, Ambrosia sought her brain for an explanation as to why she had rushed out of the forest screaming at a bird. A moment later she realized that explaining herself would be a horrible idea.

 

            "Ambrosia!" Eva cried, rushing from the forest. She stopped, pressing her hands to her knees as she regained her breath. A bit of panic flared in her eyes when she saw their surroundings. "Er...Ambrosia! Don't run away like that! Bad dog!"

 

            Waving awkwardly to a familiar couple on another bench, who suddenly found their sandwiches very interesting, Eva grabbed Ambrosia's collar and dragged her back into the forest. When they reached their clearing she collapsed on the bench. Ambrosia hopped onto the bench as well, but she couldn't muster up the strength to finish the spell.
 

            "I'm tired of this," she said.

 

            "Which part?" Eva muttered. "Getting turned into a dog, being stalked by multiple animal-based creatures, or trying to find a wizard who apparently doesn't exist?"

 

            "All of them. Pack up your things. It's time we get to investigating."

 

            "Where are we going?"

 

            Ambrosia grinned, her lips pulled taunt along her teeth. "We're going to the mall."

15: Chapter 15

 

            The Lakeside Mall sat in the abandoned side of town, surrounded on all sides by empty parking lots and disheveled buildings. It was just one structure on the endless list of buildings condemned to be bulldozed, a list which had barely changed in the past decade. Graffiti covered the walls and trash littered the ground like plants. The parking lot, void of cars, hadn't seen mundane shoppers in years.

 

            Ambrosia scanned the boarded-up windows. Beside her, Eva carefully locked her bike into the bike rack. The glimmering pink chrome seemed starkly out of place in the desolate parking lot. Despite the apparent lack of life, Ambrosia knew what lurked inside the mall.

 

            "Are you done yet?" she asked impatiently.

 

            Eva finished fiddling with the lock and stood next to Ambrosia. Her fingers twitched nervously on the strap of her purple backpack. Ambrosia wished that her apprentice—a term she used lightly—wouldn't insist on prancing around with purple backpacks and glimmering pink bicycles, but the girl could be insistent when she wanted.

 

            Ambrosia led her to the glass door, which was coated in a thick layer of dust and grime. She nodded to the girl.

 

            "After you."

 

             Obviously wishing that she wasn't the one with the hands, Eva grimaced and slowly pushed at the door. To her surprise, it slowly creaked open. Her hand left an imprint on the layer of dirt. Feet shuffling, lip bit between her teeth, she slowly crept inside.

 

            They stood at the entrance to what had once been a food court. Heavy, dusty tables stood in the center of the area, surrounded by a few broken chairs that hadn't been stolen. Around the edges they saw empty counters that had once held food establishments. Most of the signs had been scratched out, but above one counter a beaten pizza peeked out from the dust. Streaks of murky sunlight managed to slip through the grime-streaked sunroof. A lonesome quiet hung in the air.

 

            Eva shivered. "Are you sure we should be here?" Her voice was quiet, as if afraid to break the silence.

 

            "This isn't right," Ambrosia said, swishing her tail with annoyance. "The scanner must not have recognized me."

 

            She let out an ember of magic. Light glowed below her feet. She felt the mall's magic prod at her, shooting a cursory scan along her body. This time it picked up on her magic, marking her as a past visitor and a magical being. She mentally shot out a link towards Eva and the spell identified her as well.

 

            A rune appeared in front of them: a blank circle. When Ambrosia pressed her paw into it, a stylized eye materialized in the center. Ambrosia felt her eyes itch. Just as she thought to warn Eva of what was to come, the spell activated.

 

            The world shifted. Colors flashed before her eyes. Ambrosia felt a moment of vertigo, and then her vision cleared. Eva gasped.

 

             Life was scattered throughout the food court. A few people sat at the smudged tables, chatting or nibbling at food. Some were humanoid, but others were clearly not. A centaur stood before Gryphon Express, where an elf took his order. Beside them, some kind of finned creatures flitted around a water tank as they prepared a meal for a hooded figure with a scythe. The smell of food, fur, and hundreds of different types of magic bombarded Ambrosia's nose.

 

            A few eyes snapped in their direction, but most ignored them. A girl and a dog were not the strangest company in the building.

 

            "Welcome to the mall," Ambrosia said, making her way to the tables. When she looked back, Eva was still frozen at the entrance. She sighed. "Just act like you belong, and no one will bother you."

 

            Swallowing, Eva followed her.

 

            None of the original stores remained. Some had been converted to different stores selling herbs, artifacts, and even mundane items such as mattresses and cooking ware. Others had been rooted out and transformed into sleeping areas. People and creatures roamed the area like any mall at a time of sparse business. Despite the moderate hustle of activity, another look revealed the mall's true nature. Dirt covered the floor. Most of the shops were hobbled together from broken shelves and patched windows. The sleeping areas held blankets, sleeping bags, and a few patchy mattresses. They passed a group of scaled creatures cooking something unidentified over a small gas stove.

 

            "Lots of people here," Eva said quietly. She scanned their surroundings with anxious but fascinated eyes.

 

            "This place is a hub of activity for the magical community. If you can't afford a good disguise, or if living in secret just isn't for you, you go here. But that's not the only reason people come. This is also the best place in town to look for magic goods."

 

            "Like dragon teeth?"

 

            "This is the first place Ralf checked. They don't have any. But whatever that blood wizard is up to, chances are he needs a few other ingredients. I've been researching dragon teeth a bit, and it looks like the most common use is for fueling big spell—they're mostly used for fueling spells, and small spells would be a waste of power. But you can't do much with it on its own. If he's looking for more ingredients, chances are he's been here. Now we just need to—"

 

            Eva yelped and ducked as a gryphon soared overhead, its wings kicking up puffs of dirt. Its brown, white-speckles feathers glimmered in the dim light. Behind it, a few lesser gryphons the size of tabby cats swirled and rolled through the air. Eva watched with wide eyes until they swept around the corner.

 

            Ambrosia chuckled. "Quite the exciting place, huh?"

           

            Eva didn't seem able to answer. She just grinned.

 

            They made their way deeper into the mall. Perched on a dusty bench, its black talons scraping the old wood, a crow opened its beak and let out an almost silent laugh. Spreading its wings wide, it quietly took to the air.

 

            They met with one of the security officers before long. Eva ogled, having never seen a centaur up close before, but Ambrosia couldn't hold any sort of awe. The last time she had been here, it was to untangle half of the security detail from evil, soul-sucking cotton candy. It's hard to be in awe of a man when you've seen him crying while covered in pink sugar.

 

            The centaur took them straight to Emir's office. From the way he refused to look Ambrosia in the eye, he was probably thinking about the same thing she was.

 

            They stopped at the door. Murdok turned to them. "Any weapons?"

 

            Eva nervously took out her silver knife, still in its sheath. The centaur looked it over briefly and nodded.

 

            "Visitors," he said as he knocked on the door. He shot Ambrosia a nervous look and said, "I think you're, uh, expecting them?"

 

            Ambrosia had the sudden thought that the centaur might be nervous because she had inexplicably turned into a dog. Yeah, that would do it.

 

            The centaur waved them in. Ambrosia had been here before on business, but it surprised her every time.

 

            Emir's office used to be a security office. Monitors lined two of the walls, showing different parts of the mall. It did, in fact, still look like any other security office. The only difference was the spider webs that covered almost every inch of the room. Cords of silk stretched from the center and slipped through cracks in the walls. Webs coated the floor. The screens on half of the monitors were cracked or gone altogether, but instead of glass they were covered with thick layers of silk. They showed hazy images, like reflections on murky water. Ropes of webs stretched between the monitors.

 

            In the center of the room, surrounded by silver webs, Emir stood with his spider legs wrapped in a dozen cords each. He seemed intent in his work, his many eyes blinking with concentration. He looked like what a centaur would be with the features of a spider rather than those of a horse—adding, of course, a very spider-like and rather unattractive head.

 

            "Knock, knock," Ambrosia said as the security guard closed the door behind them.

 

            Finally noticing his guests, he turned with a wide smile. The expression was rather unnerving when coupled with the extruding fangs on the corner of his mouth. "Hello! How can I help you? I don't remember scheduling an appointment with anyone new today."

 

            "Good morning to you too, Emir."

 

            "Ambrosia?"

 

            "In the flesh." She looked at herself with a frown. "Kind of."

 

            He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to be surprised, and then let out a laugh. He laughed with his whole body, sending vibrations throughout the webs. "Why am I not surprised! What mess did you get yourself into this time?"

 

            Flushing beneath her fur, she coughed. "I'm here for business."

 

            "You're always here for business. Who's your new partner?"

 

            "Apprentice. Can we focus?"

 

            "I'm Eva."

 

            "Nice to meet you. My name is Emir. I run this place."

 

            Ambrosia sighed. "Emir—"

 

            He waved a hand at her, sending a sympathetic look towards Eva. "Do you have to put up with this every day?"

 

            "Emir! I'm here for some information."

 

            "Oh, I know," he said, turning back to the screens. One leg twitched free of the cords and swiped along the monitors, sending them flickering with different images. He shot a smile back at the girls. "But you know information doesn't come free."

 

            "I can barely afford my rent, Emir. I don't know how much I could—"

 

            "No, I don't want money. I want your expertise."

 

            The only expertise she could think of was her experience as a bounty hunter. "Don't you have security officers for that stuff?"

 

            He shrugged. "They mostly work with lost kids and shoplifting. You've been called in here enough times to know that they're not trained to take down tough baddies."

 

            Ambrosia sighed, unable to argue.

 

            "Here's the deal," he said. "Something's been pestering my customers in the east end. They've been going there, but they haven't been coming back. I sent a few of my guys, but they haven't returned either. To make it worse, whatever's causing trouble has been blocking my monitors in the area. I need you to go and see what's causing trouble before I have to get the Council involved and pay for a bounty."

 

            "How are we supposed to find this thing?"

 

            "Here, I programmed this earlier." He rummaged around in a mass of webs and produced a glass jar. Inside, a little red light glowed like a lightning bug. He opened the jar and whistled. The light leapt from the jar and zipped out the door.

 

            "That will lead you to the east end so you don't get lost," he said. "Better keep up!"

 

            Ambrosia turned towards the door with a disgruntled growl, but Eva hesitated. She looked at Emir. "Um...this won't happen to lead us to a basement, will it?"

 

            "No. Why?"

 

            "No reason."

 

            Hiding her smirk, Ambrosia chased after the light.

 

            They followed the light deep into the mall. As they traveled, life faded. They passed fewer and fewer roaming customers, fewer groups huddled in gutted out stores. Piles of trash littered the ground. The layers of dirt grew thicker. Soon the light led them up a flight of frozen escalators. Parts of the floor gave way to show the ground below, sometimes purposeful and sometimes not. Ambrosia knew that they had walked enough distance to pass through a normal-sized mall long ago, but she knew not to expect anything magic to act normal.

 

            The light danced just ahead of them, keeping a steady pace. Ambrosia kept her eyes sharp to the shadows. Dim magic lights glimmered overhead, mixing with rare splashes of sunlight that slipped through cracks in the ceiling. Soon she realized that this light probably wouldn't help her find her target, especially when didn't know what to look for. She opened up her other senses. She heard the pattering of mice and the distant call of birds. Their footsteps echoed through the quiet mall. The shuffling of Eva's sneakers and the repetitive clicking of Ambrosia's claws filled the air like music, going on and on until Ambrosia's heart seemed to beat with their rhythm.

 

            Finally, much later than Ambrosia expected, Eva broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

 

            Ambrosia considered not responding, but the hesitant curiosity radiating from the girl itched at her skin, and she knew that refusing would just make her suffer longer. "Fine."

 

            Eva chewed her lip nervously. Finally she said, "back in the park, a few days ago, you mentioned your dad. What...what happened to him?"

 

            The air fell from her lungs. She kept her pace steady, unwilling to let her reaction show, not remembering that it was pointless around an empath. She cleared her throat. "He left. Dead."

 

            Don't say you're sorry. Don't give me pity. Don't act like I am fragile, like I am hurt—

 

            "Oh," Eva said, her voice soft and hard to read. After a moment she spoke again. "Is that...is that why you don't want much to do with me? Because you're afraid I'll leave you too?"

 

            "No," she said, "because I know you'll leave me too."

 

            Her lungs felt like they had been crushed, but she did not know why.

 

            And then she heard it.

 

            Ambrosia halted, ears pricked. Eva opened her mouth, but the wizard hurriedly shushed her and strained to catch another hint of that melodic murmur. It was faint, so faint she could barely make it out with her sharp ears, but it seemed to whisper them closer. She hurried in its direction, wishing that their footsteps didn't muffle the sound. Ambrosia slowed to a walk when the sound was loud enough that they could talk without drowning it out. The slow, lovely music sounded like it came from a live orchestra of goddesses, mixing soothing instruments with rich singing that was either wordless or in a different language. Though the music was lovely, Ambrosia couldn't be too impressed. She wasn't a fan of classical.

 

            "We're getting closer," she said quietly. "Keep your eyes and ears open. I'm going to scout ahead when we get close so that I know what we're dealing with. Just hang back and watch for my signals. Alright?"

 

            She looked back. Eva was gone.

 

            Ambrosia whirled around, straining her senses. No answer came her way, and the music drowned out any footsteps she might have heard. In fact, it seemed to drown out everything. Though normally she would have been able to hear distant birds and her own claws scraping along the ground, her head seemed filled with nothing but that tantalizing music. She was suddenly reminded of fresh brownies and strawberry lemonade, a snack her father often crafted after a rigorous training session.

 

            Ambrosia shook her head fiercely, halting. Her paws had moved her forward on her own accord.

 

            "Magic," she hissed. Of course the music was enchanted. She should have realized that the moment the first seductive murmur reached her ears. 

 

            She didn't want to follow the music, but there was little else she could do. Eva had allowed herself to be carried off with all of their supplies. Her chalk, her spell books, her weapons—all gone. Frustrated, the little wizard let out a short breath of fire. At least she still had one weapon.

 

            Closing her eyes, Ambrosia concentrated. That music tugged at her again, and this time she recognized it as a tug, but she pushed past the enchantment for something deeper. The source. She had never been musically inclined, but she was always good at locating magic. It had a certain texture to it that the rest of the world lacked. When she was human, that texture was vague, but now that she was a dog she recognized that it had its own sound and smell too. Normally she tried to find the magic. This time she pushed it away, searching for something that lacked the otherworldly texture.

 

            Her paws moved. Eyes squeezed shut, Ambrosia followed the trail. Following sound was harder than following scents. The sounds seemed to bounce along the walls and ceiling, coming from everywhere at once and stubbornly refusing to form a trail. Separating the magic music from the mundane music made it even worse.

 

            The sound got louder. Separated from the enchantments, it led her to the music's source without filling her mind with spells that could turn her in another direction. She felt a dash of triumph, but tried to crush it down in the fear that it would distract her.

 

            Her paw hit something hard. She opened her eyes.

 

            A beat-up speaker stood in front of her. The music wafted from it, filling her head. Ambrosia cursed. She had been outsmarted.

 

            The music pounded in her head now. She stumbled away from the speaker, her concentration broken. She tried to separate the two melodies again, to separate the sound from the spell, but her head ached so badly that she that she could hardly stand. She hurried into an abandoned store. Looters had worked to the point that she couldn't tell what it once was. She pressed her head against one of the remaining shelves, willing the music away. She couldn't even tell what kind of music it was anymore. It was everything. It was the music of the universe, the music of her breathing and dust in her fur, of hard dirt underfoot and stars far away. It was the only sound that had ever been, and the only sound that would ever be, and when the stars collapsed and the gods breathed their last breaths, the music would still survive.

 

            "What do you think you're doing, loitering around like that?"

 

            Ambrosia looked up, vision blurred. Her father lounged against the counter across the store, his face split in a teasing smile.

 

            "Dad?"

 

            "Come on, Amber. Don't you have work to do?"

 

            With that, he disappeared into the backroom. Ambrosia waited only a heartbeat before she dashed after him, knocking over a shelf in her uncoordinated haste. Her feet didn't seem to belong to her anymore. Neither did her head—she felt as if she was in a dream.

 

            The door to the backroom stood open for her. She sprinted through the room, which was as stripped as the rest of the store, and emerged into an empty white hallway. A few dim lights glowed on the floor. Ambrosia didn't know whether normal malls looked like this, but that didn't matter. Her head swiveled as she tried to catch another glimpse of her father.

 

            "Illusions?" she whispered. "Nice try. I'm not going to fall for something so amateur."

 

            But when her father appeared into the dim light, she raced after him.

 

            Ambrosia followed the image of her father through the long, empty hallways. Pain pounded behind her eyes. Strange thoughts whispered in her head. Something had lodged itself between her eyes, pounding in time with her heart. She wasn't sure how far they went on their mad dash, or even in what direction. The walls and floor blurred together. All she could see was her father running ahead of her, his easy laughter mixing with the pounding in her head.

 

            And then they were running past mirrors. Ancient and fresh, smaller than her head and larger than her apartment, silver-rimmed and frameless, dusty and clear, they formed the wall, the ceiling, and even the floor. Thousands of Ambrosias chased thousands of her fathers. Images appeared in the mirrors out of the corner of her eyes, flickering away when she tried to get a solid look. 

 

            Her father stopped. Ambrosia wanted to run up to him, but suddenly found a mirror blocking her way. She stared back at herself—her real self, not the self with fur and paws. She reached up and touched her red hair. Pressed her paw to the mirror, she saw the scars and markings scrawled across the olive skin of her palm reflecting back.

 

            "Looks good, doesn't it?"

 

            She turned around. He father stood behind her. He held his back straight and his feet set at a confident angle, but there was an easiness to his shoulders that suggested a sense of humor. Though his face was weathered and scarred, light danced in his eyes. He looked just as likely to punch someone as shake their hand.

 

            "You were never one to look in the mirror much, but I bet you're regretting that now, huh?" He leaned against a mirror, a familiar smirk on his lips. He had no reflection. "You never really appreciate something until it's gone, right?"

 

            Her throat clenched. She looked back to the mirror. Dark eyes stared at her, not much different than the ones she had now.

 

            "I know it hurts," he said after a long moment. "But we can make it better."

 

            "What?" she said, shocked. She couldn't tear her eyes from her own reflection.

 

            "You want a lot of things, don't you? Your own image, your father, some peace and quiet..."

 

            "He's dead."

 

            "Dead as a doorknob. But we can bring him back. We can bring you both back. All you need to do is trust us."

 

            "What are you saying?"

 

            Her own image smirked and reached out its hand, offering it to her like Pandora's box.

 

            "Just give up," he said. "We can make everything better. You're so tired, Ambrosia, even though you're so young. We can make it all go away. All you need to do is trust us."

 

            Her head throbbed with a deep ache. She forced her eyes to close. She felt distant and light, as if she was not quite herself. As if she was not seeing what really existed. As if she was dreaming.

 

            The music.

 

            Pain surged through her head, but she refused to let it chase the thought away. The music was doing its job; it was revealing her own desires. This wasn't real. It was like the dream she had dreamed. She opened her eyes to stare at her reflection. Funny, the only time she saw the two things she wanted most was in illusions. But maybe they were right. Maybe she could just give up. The fighting would stop, the pain would stop. The strange ache she felt in her chest when she thought about her father, even though she had left his memories behind in Texas, would fade. All she had to do was reach out her hand and trust the voice.

 

            But then again, she had always been bad at trusting people.

 

            She raised her paw. The reflection followed suit, looking puzzled. It allowed its hand to be clenched into a fist. It allowed her to take a deep breath, ignoring the voice of her father—the voice that pretended to be a dead man—and slam her fist into the surface of the mirror.

 

            The mirror shattered.

 

16: Chapter 16

            Ambrosia jerked to her senses, paw throbbing. She scarcely realized that she was perched precariously on a board of wood before she toppled into lukewarm water. Her body felt sluggish and bruised. Images of the illusion from mere moments ago danced in her eyes. The shock of the water sent a surge of energy through her veins and she burst to the surface, gasping. Floundering awkwardly in the water, she managed to splash to the edge of the fountain and pull herself out with weak, shaky limbs. She flopped to the floor like a freshly caught fish.

 

            She barely had a chance to catch her breath before a shadow appeared above her.

 

            "Pah!" the bird-lady said, rustling her wings with annoyance, "looks like we've got a stubborn one."

 

            She clutched the edge of the fountain with vicious talons. Speckled brown feathers covered most of her body, leading from her long tail to the strikingly beautiful humanoid head that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover. Her long red hair trailed down her back in a loose, complex braid. Smooth pale skin mixed perfectly with her wide, dark eyes. Her long hooked nose would have looked out of place on most faces, but her features seemed to blend with it perfectly. She had no arms, only two long wings tucked against her sides.

 

            Behind her was the largest fountain Ambrosia had ever seen. Multiple levels of small, circular pools led half-way to the ceiling in a spiral, allowing streams of clear water to cascade down to the main pool. Most of the platforms had been modified. Some held rock formations like boulders rising from the sea, while others held kayaks or floaters. Lights glimmered on their rims to chase away the darkness. The modifications weren't what caught Ambrosia's eye—it was those who occupied them.

 

            She had found the missing mall-goers.

 

            They were scattered around the fountain on different platforms. They all held glassy-eyed looks as they went about tasks or simply stayed where they were, posed like statues. A dark-haired elf plucked at a harp while a dark-skinned bird-woman lay stretched out on a pool floater, occasionally giving him instructions in a sing-song voice. A chubby human fed cherries to another bird-woman, who was also attended to by goblin with a glass of wine. Another bird woman sat on the top platform, singing into a microphone while a dwarf in a mall-cop uniform perched beside her with a water bottle, staring at her dreamily. A large while wolf stood at the tip of a rock formation, posed as if it were howling at the moon.

 

            And there was Eva, brushing a comb through a bird-woman's hair.

 

            Ambrosia snarled, but the dark-eyed woman looming before he didn't look impressed.

 

            "I do hate it when you twats break free," she said with a sniff. "And we didn't even get you into position yet. How annoying."

 

            Ambrosia noticed the small raft bobbling in the water, which she assumed they had been using to cart her across the fountain.

 

            "Oh, well. I supposed I'll have to snack on you before your time. You might have made a nice side-piece to that wolf. Hold still."

 

            Ambrosia did not hold still. She scrambled out of the way as bird-woman swept her wing across the ground, sending a lash of air that almost knocked the wizard off her feet. The singing still pounded in her head, but now that she had seen its source it didn't seem quite so powerful anymore. Her legs still felt weak.

           

            The bird-woman launched from her perch with a pump of her wings, talons slashing. The wizard flattened herself to the ground; claws scraped against her back as the creature sailed past and banked sharply, coming back for another sweep. Ambrosia got to her feet to face the oncoming threat, but she felt hopeless. Her head still ached and fur was wet, stifling her attempts at fire. This time she had no surge of empathy magic to fuel her. The bird-woman's wings stretched far along her sides, dwarfing the tiny bounty hunter.

 

            A rush of black shot in front of the bird-woman, who sang out with shock and sailed past Ambrosia, stunned. The blur resolved itself into a lithe black crow that came to perch at Ambrosia's feet. It cawed and hopped once away from the fountain, cocking its head in question. Ambrosia looked back. The bird-woman had recovered from her shock and was flapping towards them, looking more enraged than ever.

 

            "Fine," the wizard said. "Just don't make me regret this."

 

            The crow let out a croaking laugh and led her away from the fountain.

 

            They ducked into an empty store. The crow led her to the back corridors of the mall. Unlike the ones in her hallucination, these were dingy and unlit. Ambrosia managed to produce a small flame to light their way. The crow had been flying, but as the sounds of the bird-woman faded it drifted to the floor and hopped beside Ambrosia, who slowed to a walk. Eventually they stopped. Ambrosia listened, but even her advanced hearing couldn't make out any sign of the bird-women.

 

            Bird-women. Singing. Luring people to their lair.

 

            "Harpies?" she said aloud. Her voice echoed through the empty corridors. The crow nodded, but Ambrosia couldn't tell if it was in confirmation or if it was because the creature was a bird, and bobbing around was simply what birds did. She shook her head. "Look at me. I just said how bad I am at trusting people and here I am following a bird into some dark corridors in the back of a mall. A bit hypocritical, don't you think?" She frowned at the bird. "Oh, and let's not forget that you've been stalking my apprentice for—how long? What's up with that?"

 

            Letting out a caw, the crow took to the air and sailed into the shadows. Begrudgingly, Ambrosia followed. The bird led her up a stairwell. It didn't seem bothered by the darkness beyond her flame, flying out of the light as easily as if it were flying through daylight.

 

            "Alright," Ambrosia said as it led her onto the second floor. "Spill it. What are you doing here, and why are you helping me?"

 

            As usual, the crow didn't respond.

 

            After a minute they slowed. They left the corridors and snuck into a larger hall lined with shop. To their left, Ambrosia could glimpse the tip of the fountain. Railings lined a large opening that allowed mall-goers on the second floor to gaze down at the fountain below. It made the area seem open and airy. No wonder the flying harpies chose this area as their base.

 

            Ambrosia and the crow crept to the edge of the opening. Ambrosia expected the harpies to sense them, but the bird-women didn't seem concerned. Even the one that had heckled her was dozing on the rim of the base pool. Their song pounded in her head, but she fought it back. The crow nudged Ambrosia and pointed its beak at the fountain. Frowning, Ambrosia tried to follow its gaze.

 

            "What?" she whispered.

 

            The crow hopped behind her and pecked at her tail.

 

            "Ow—hey!"

 

            They both froze. Thankfully, the harpies didn't seem to hear her hissed protest.

 

            Finally the crow's gestures clicked. Ambrosia turned back to the fountain, squinting in the direction the crow had gestured, and whispered, "The wolf, huh?"

 

            The crow nodded.

 

            They crept back into the corridors.

 

            When they were a good distance away, Ambrosia settled against the wall and asked, "How long has your wolf been here?"

 

            The crow tapped its beat twice on the floor. Two days.

 

            "That long? I can't believe Emir won't just set up a bounty. Oh, whatever. Let's make a deal. I help you free your wolf, and you tell me about why you've been stalking my apprentice. Deal?"

 

            Letting out a laugh, the crow darted into the air and landed on her back. She shook it off.

 

            "I'm serious!" she snarled. "If you don't agree, I'll just save my own hide and leave. Who knows how long it will take another bounty hunter to get here, once Emir finally agrees to a bounty?"

 

            The crow ruffled its feathers, thought it seemed more amused than bothered. After a dramatic pause, it nodded.

 

             "Now we just need to figure out how to do this."

 

            That was the difficult part. She had gotten used to Eva making up all of the plans. Now she had neither her supplies nor her apprentice.

 

            Ambrosia shook her head and glared at the crow. "I don't supposed you have any ideas, do you?"

 

            The crow shook out it feathers and started to groom.

 

            "Of course not." She sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at dingy ceiling. "Two weeks ago I would have asked, "What would Dad do?" Now I'm wondering what scheme Eva would come up with. What has that obnoxious girl done to me?"

 

            She heard the crow laugh.

 

            What would Eva do? Ambrosia frowned in thought. She usually preferred fists to tactics, but at the moment she had little choice. The fountain itself already put her at a disadvantage. Her fire magic rarely mixed well with water; she still felt damp from her earlier spill. But there was a reason for the fountain. Searching her memory, Ambrosia faintly remembered a story her father had told her long ago about a time he hunted a group of harpies in a swamp. The seductive songs of the harpies took a lot of magic, so they typically stored magic in bodies of water. That's why they traditionally roosted near ponds or on islands.

 

            Perhaps destroying the fountain would break the spell on the captives. Any brainwashing spell required a constant flow of magic, so breaking that would free them. But how?

 

            "Drain the water?" she said aloud, and immediately shook her head. "No, that would take too long. And how would we do it?"

 

            The crow clucked its tongue, as if baffled.

 

            "I need to think like Eva. What would she do in this situation?"

 

            The answer came like a slap to the face. Eva would get help.

 

            Ambrosia climbed to her feet with a groan, shooting a glare at the crow. "I don't suppose you know how to whistle?"

 

            It opened its mouth and let out a perfect imitation of a human whistle. A few moments later a small red light zipped silently into view, stopping in front of the two.

 

            "Take us back to Emir." When the light didn't move, Ambrosia tried again. "Uh, reverse original order."

 

            The light rushed down the hall, leaving two animals to follow.

 

            As she made her way back down the east branch of the mall, Ambrosia wondered at the strange image they presented; a small, damp dog leading a well-armed nagi in mall-cop uniform and a nervous centaur who kept peeking at the crow perched on his shoulder. A tiny red light bobbing ahead of them.

 

            "Are you sure you don't want any more backup?" the centaur murmured into the quiet mall. His partner pursed her lips.

 

            "I'm sure," Ambrosia replied. "You brought the magic disruptors?"

 

            The centaur pulled out half a dozen small orbs from his pocket. Though they looked as innocent as marbles, they had silver threaded through their core. A simple verbal spell would open up the shell and allow the core to drain all the magic it touched, including that from water. They were standard issue for most security offices.

 

            When the first hints of the music tickled her ears, Ambrosia stopped. The centaur handed her an uncapped marker and she slowly wrote down the outline of a spell on the tiled floor. She had gone through it at least a dozen times when she was training with Eva at the park, so she had few worries about messing it up. Nonetheless, she begrudgingly allowed the two mall cops to look the runes over and even took a suggestion from the nagi about the dimensions. Finally, after they were all satisfied, she activated the spell.

 

            A thin shell of orange enveloped them. Immediately the music disappeared. Ambrosia examined the shell. It was the size of a small bedroom, allowing them to move around to a degree. They had to sacrifice space for maneuverability; Ambrosia wasn't sure how to make the shell larger without forcing it to be stationary. When Murdok took a step forward, it moved to follow him.

 

            "All set," she said, the only noise inside the soundproof spell. "Keep together as we get closer to the harpies."

 

            "How did you get out of that voice spell the first time?" the centaur asked in a voice that suggested he wasn't entirely confident in this plan.

 

            "I guess I'm just stubborn." Privately, she added that perhaps her dream from a few days ago reminded her that her father was nothing more than a phantom.

 

            They walked. Their footsteps were the only sounds in the soundproof bubble: claws tapping against tile, two sets of hooves, and slithering scales. They could have easily spoken without giving away their position, but even the crow stayed silent. Ambrosia so strongly associated the harpies with their music that she didn't realize how close they were until they rounded the corner to found the fountain towering before them.

 

            The harpies ignored their approach. One still sang at the tip of the fountain, but to them her lips moved soundlessly. They seemed to feel themselves above acting concerned about the approaching party. Ambrosia almost hoped that they could make it to the fountain before the harpies decided that they were a threat.

 

            Of course, that would be too easy. The dark-eyed harpy landed on the edge of the fountain when they were about twenty yards away, halting their progress. She glared at them as she took in their appearances. A smirk spread across her face, as if amused at their efforts, and she spoke wordlessly to them with an elegant toss of her hair. Ambrosia assumed that she was mocking them. She almost wished that she could take the barrier down so she could mock her back. After spending some time with the crow, she had a created a reservoir of bird-related insults.

 

            Resisting the urge, she turned to Murdok. "How good is your throwing arm?"

 

            "I played baseball in high school."

 

            He tossed two of the orbs at the fountain. The harpy's wing snapped out and slapped them out of the air. They clattered across floor and disappeared into a crack in the tiles.

 

            It had been worth a shot.

 

            The dark-eyed harpy must not have been happy with their attempts to pollute her pond, because when they looked back at her she raised her wings with a soundless cry. The rest of the harpies took to the air. The only one to remain on the fountain was the singing one, who continued to weave her enchantments into the air.

 

            Heat built in Ambrosia's throat. The nagi drew a sparking baton while her partner allowed yellow-green light to flood across his arms like vines. The crow grabbed one of the orbs, squinting its eyes at the faint traces of silver seeping out from its core. They waited until the harpies drew near, circling above them like eagles hunting for prey.

 

            "Now!" Ambrosia said.

 

            Three beams of blinding color shot from the group: too-bright fire, crackling electricity, and powdery green energy. The harpies scattered. Ambrosia dashed away from the fountain. Hoofbeats told her that Murdok was following. She glanced back in time to see the crow swoop from his shoulder and hurry towards the glimmering water. She was so focused on the crow that she didn't notice the harpy in front of them until her wingbeats filled the air in their shield. The nagi stuck out with her baton, but she was too late; the harpy opened her mouth and let out a cry.

 

            It was nothing like the gentle lull of the music. The noise pierced her skull like a spear, like thunder inside her brain, like a gun shot inches from her ears. White spots filled her vision and she felt the world shift beneath her feet. She stumbled. An alarm seemed to be going off in her head, so loud she couldn't tell what it was—maybe it was the noise reverberating again and again, or maybe it was just the white-hot pain in her head trying to express itself in ways she would understand. It felt as if spikes had been drilled into her eardrums.

 

            She pressed herself to the cold floor, desperate for the pain to stop. Eventually it faded, leaving only a dull ache and a shrill ringing in her ears. The spots in her eyes glimmered out of existence. She struggled to her feet and looked around.

 

            Murdok and his partner were twenty yards away, fighting inside the noise-proof shield as they attempted to both stay inside and keep the harpies out. The nagi shot out bolts of electricity from her baton. A yellow-green glow had enveloped Murdok's arms and he was in the process of tearing apart a bench with his glowing hands and throwing the chunks at harpies with surprisingly good aim. They seemed to be managing on their own, but the nagi held one arm against her chest at a crooked angle and Murdok had multiple bloody gashes across his body. Their uniforms were torn by talons. The harpies circled them, occasionally darting down to slash at their foes before swerving away with mocking laughter.

 

            Ambrosia ducked when feathers appeared at the edge of her vision, but it was merely the crow landing clumsily beside her. A gash covered one of its eyes, but that didn't seem to bother it in the least. It held no silver-filled orb. Ambrosia looked to the fountain. It hadn't changed. The abducted mall-goers didn't look any less abducted, and the harpy on top continued to sing as if a battle weren't going on in front of her. Ambrosia could barely hear the song through the ringing in her ears.

 

            "Get another orb," she said, trying to focus through the pounding of her head. "They're all distracted."

 

            The crow jumped into the air and flapped towards the mall-cops, Ambrosia on its tail feathers. A harpy lunged at them, but a well-aimed fireball sent her reeling back to her circling companions.

 

            "Murdok!" she said as they entered the sound-proof spell. "We need another—"

 

            She stopped. The pocket that had held the orbs was ripped open, showing a bloody gash where it had once been. The orbs were nowhere to be seen. Ambrosia felt her stomach drop.

 

            The nagi shot out a huge rush of electricity, sending any nearby harpies swerving away. Murdok took the opportunity to gasp out to Ambrosia, "Your friend—she still has that knife, right? The silver one?"

 

            "Well, yeah, but what does that—"

 

            Murdok scooped her into his arms. She barely had time to yelp before she was sailing through the air, bits of yellow-green magic sticking to her fur as she tumbled into a pool of icy water. She clawed to the surface, gasping and coughing. Through the pain in her head, the ringing in her ears, and the water in her eyes, she managed to heave herself onto the edge of the pool. Moisture dripped from her fur to the main pool far below.

 

            She looked up. Eva sat a few feet away from her on the edge, her arms held up with a brush in her hand as if she had been frozen mid-stroke. Her face was more serene than Ambrosia had ever seen it. She would have looked lovely if not for the glassy look in her eyes. Her knife, which was hidden beneath her clothes when they were in mundane company, hung loosely from her belt. Moisture stained its protective casing, which kept the negative powers of the silver-laced blade in check.

 

            Silver. Of course.

 

            "Ha! Ha!"

 

            The familiar call was faint through the ringing in her ears, but she turned towards it on instinct—just in time to avoid the talons of the dark-eyes harpy swooping at her head. The crow shot after the harpy when the bird-woman tried to come in for another pass. It flapped at her eyes and scratched her cheeks. Ambrosia crept towards Eva and the knife, her feet slipping on the smooth fountain edges. One misstep and she would fall—then their last chance would be gone.

 

            The harpy shrieked. The crow wheeled away, its claws glistening with blood, but it was too late; the harpy slammed her wing into the bird and sent it careening to the tiles below. She turned to Ambrosia at the same moment the wizard took her last step.

 

            A rush of air. A flap of wings. Ambrosia closed her jaws around the handle of the knife just as pain burst through her skull. For a moment the world went black. Then she was falling, tumbling through the air, her tongue tasting copper and nothing more. The world spun around her. Her only thought was a vague ache of failure.

 

            But just before she hit the water, she saw a glint of silver following her down.

 

            Once again, blackness closed around her. This one was softer, more restful. She floated through this blackness while her thoughts took their time to catch up to her. Things seemed to be happening around her—sounds, smells—but they felt far away. Even though she wanted nothing more than to stay here for a while longer, she knew that there were more important things to do. At least this time she didn't have her own reflection beckoning her not to continue.

 

            When she opened her eyes, all she saw was a blinding glare of purple. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

 

            "Oops, sorry. Here, try again."

 

            She cracked her eyes open. Eva stared down at her sheepishly, a purple glow in her hand. Her head ached even more than before. This pain was sharper and shallower, though just as painful.

 

            Ambrosia opened her mouth for a snarky comment, but all that she managed was a pain-filled "ow."

 

             Eva bit her lip to hide a smile. "Well, at least you're awake now. Thanks for saving us, by the way."

 

            Ambrosia craned her head around. They sat on a bench against the wall, the only one to escape destruction in the fight. Cracks and burns marked the area. Before them towered the fountain. Without its glimmering lights and cascading water, it looked much less grand. The harpies were nowhere to be seen. Judging by the wide range of marks on the floors, walls, and the tiles of the fountain, the abductees had chosen to express their displeasure at being kidnapped once they had been freed from the spell. The top pool hadn't escaped their wrath; it lay on the floor, cracked into a hundred pieces. A few official-looking people wandered the area, trying to seem like they were being productive.

 

            Murdok approached their bench, bandages peeking out from his torn uniform. Ambrosia touched her own head to find thick bandages there as well. A faint ringing still filled her ears.

 

            "Feeling any better?" the centaur asked the two of them. Judging by his calm demeanor, Ambrosia assumed that the harpies had been taken care of. She half-wished that she had seen the rest of the fight, but her head ached too much for her to truly care.

 

            Eva nodded. Ambrosia couldn't resist a jab. "Better than you after that cotton candy incident."

 

            Murdok winced. Rolling her eyes, Eva muttered that Ambrosia seemed to be doing fine.

 

            "Well," Murdok said once he recovered, holding out something to Eva, "I just came to give this back."

 

            Eva took the knife with a grin. Careful not to wave the blade at anything magical in nature, she tucked it back into its sheath.

 

            "Won't the Council want that that for the investigation?" Ambrosia asked.

 

            "They already did it. Those Council folk are very efficient." Murdok waved to a pair of Council agents who were poking around the fountain, muttering about how they just wanted to shop for a few lamps without someone blowing something up for once.

 

            Ambrosia knew that they would have to answer a few questions, but she was content to leave that for later. The girls said goodbye to Murdok, waved to his partner, and left the fountain behind. They didn't even need the red light. At this point, the route to the main part of the mall had been engraved in Ambrosia's mind.

 

            Just when she thought that they were done with excitement for the day, a wolf stepped into their path.

 

            Ambrosia had not seen many live wolves in her adventures, but this one was certainly the biggest. Its thick white fur glimmered in the dull lights. Even the smattering of grey across its back seemed to shine. Despite the exhaustion in its eyes, its lip was curled back in a fierce snarl. The crow sat on its back, looking tired and disheveled.

 

            "Buzz off," Ambrosia snapped.

 

            The wolf blinked, surprised at her unimpressed reaction. It shared a glance with the crow and slipped back into the shadows. After a moment it appeared again, set something on the ground, and left.

 

            They waited until its footsteps faded. Ambrosia approached the object with Eva at her heels. She stopped so suddenly that Eva almost walked into her. When Eva got a good look at the object, she gasped.

 

            It was a shiny grey medallion about the size of Ambrosia's paw. A folded note sat beneath it, but that wasn't what caught their eyes. They stared at the symbol carved into the medallion. On it, a majestic bird stretched its wings as it rose before a full moon. The carving was old and marked by time, but they recognized it easily: it was the same marking on Eva's knife.

17: Chapter 17

            Ambrosia hated school.

 

            Okay, so she didn’t have much first-hand experience. She had spent little time in public school as a child, only making it up to third grade until her father decided that it was not the place for a stubborn and violent youth; instead he choose to take her education into his own hands and funnel that aggression into wizard training. Most teachers would not have approved of his methods, which sometimes included taking her on his bounty hunts before she was ten, but there was only so much a single father could do to educate his daughter in a world that didn't understand her.

 

            Or at least, that's what he said. Ambrosia was fairly certain that her aggression had started long before third grade, when her father decided that the best way to teach his daughter magic was to show her how to kill blight-rats by setting them on fire.

 

            At the moment, however, her own education wasn't what made her despise school. Right now she hated it because it kept Eva away. The girl had been so preoccupied by catching up with her schoolwork, which had fallen into the periphery in the past week while they worked on magic training, that they had scarcely been able to meet since their disastrous trip to the mall over a week ago. Ambrosia had not truly appreciated the girl’s usefulness until she had to change her bandages with her own clumsy paws.

 

            Reading, of course, was not any easier. Dogs were not built for flipping through pages. They were also not appreciated by library golems, who wanted neither scratch marks nor dog slobber on their precious books. Unfortunately, after using up her own paltry collection of books and finding Google completely useless, Ambrosia was forced to hunch beneath a table in a corner of the magical selection of the library while a library golem lingered nearby, occasionally shooting her glares from around bookshelves.

 

            Research, Ambrosia learned, was hard. Neither the note nor the medallion would give up their secrets. The note from lay on her desk at home, slightly crumpled and smudged by canine drool. No matter what spell she tried, it lay completely and undeniably blank.

 

            Sighing, she slipped out from under the table. Eva sat on the floor with her chin propped on her hand. A stack of books stood next to her, ranging from tomes of ancient symbology to indexes of magic runes from all ages—anything they could find that might match the symbol of the medallion tucked into Eva's pack. Birds and heavenly bodies were rampant across history as icons, but finding them in the perfect mix was harder than it seemed.

 

            "Anything?" Ambrosia said, knowing the answer. When she spotted the book in Eva's lap she scowled. "Hey, what are you doing?"

 

            The girl flushed and closed the herbology book. "Nothing."

 

            "Give it up on the ashfire spice, would you? The mall was a waste of time. If the blood wizard had picked up anything else, we might have some clues, but according to the shop owner that’s all he picked up. And what we got isn’t enough to work with; ashfire spice can be used in anything from listening spells to tacos.”

 

            “Maybe he picked something up at another store?” Eva said hopefully. “We could go back and ask some other—“

 

            “No point. The blood wizard left the same way he came, which was right past the herb store. The herbalist said that he didn’t have any other bags when he left. We’re just lucky that we have this much information. If he wanted, I bet the blood wizard could have cloaked himself somehow and the shopkeeper wouldn’t have even remembered a blue-eyed, black-haired man with his arm in a sling. Though, really, he’s not all that conspicuous.”

 

            Sighing, Eva pushed the book aside. “Well, I’m not finding anything. There’s plenty of symbols for birds and heavenly bodies, but I can’t find any that puts them together. Are you sure we shouldn’t ask Mr. Bedell?”

 

            “I don’t want to shove us any more in his debt.” It was hard enough going to him for books and advice about Eva. His smug, teacher-like attitude, thin enough to not be obtrusive but thick enough to drive Ambrosia up a wall, got worse each time they visited.

 

            She frowned slightly. “We’re not in his dept. He’s doing it to be helpful, and he’s not going to expect favors from us or anything.”

 

            “Of course he is. The magical world lives on favors. Money is flimsy and changeable, but favors are the same no matter what currency you use. Trust me, you want to avoid owing favors as much as possible. Look where they’ve gotten us so far.”

 

            Eva grimaced. Her first unpleasant experience with magic—the one that made her wary of running water—had been the result of a psychic taking a favor from them for an unwanted task. The event that got her frozen by harpies had been in exchange for information.

 

            “We don’t need him,” she went on. “The symbol has to be around here somewhere. We just need to keep looking.”

 

            Eva removed her glasses to rub at her eyes.

 

            “Excuse me.”

 

            They both jumped. A woman stood between two bookshelves that opened into their little clearing. She balanced a stack of books on her hip and pointed with her free hand.

 

            “Are you done with that?” she said in a slightly impatient voice.

 

            Ambrosia bristled, opening her mouth to give a snappy retort, but Eva scrambled for the book the woman had indicated. She awkwardly handed it over, practically dislodging the woman’s other books in her haste.

 

            “Sorry—we’re done, I mean, I’m done. You can take it—the book. Here.”

 

            The woman raised an eyebrow and took the book. When she got a better look at Eva, she paused. “Do I know you?”

 

            “Um. Probably not?”

 

            “Oh, wait, yeah. You’re that ghost girl. My sister’s in your school.”

 

            Eva grimaced and seemed to shrink into herself. “Um—“

           

            “Well, whatever. Thanks for the book.” The woman turned and left without another word.

 

            Eva sat with a sigh. She ran a hand over her face.

 

            “I don’t get you,” Ambrosia admitted.

 

            “Huh?”

 

            “You’re fine with me, but whenever someone else pops up you turn into a stuttering mess and start tripping all over yourself. What gives?”

 

            Eva shrugged, fidgeting with her sleeve. “I don’t know. You’re—different, I guess. I was always better with animals than I was with people, so I guess your body is part of it. I just don’t feel as pressured. With other people I always feel this impossible barrage of signals—I get overwhelmed because I don’t understand them. But your emotions are simpler. I can read you. Besides, you make fun of me whether I fail or succeed. It’s kind of releasing.”

 

            Ambrosia tried briefly to decide whether she was being insulted or complimented, but quickly gave up. To be insulted wouldn’t be bad, but the idea of Eva handing her a compliment made her feel uneasy.

 

            “Ambrosia,” said a smooth voice, saving her from answering, “I’m surprised to find you here.”

 

            They looked up. A tall, red-haired shadow lurked before them, a stack of books and folders in his arms. The moment she saw him, Eva squeaked and hid herself behind one of her books. The cover was upside down.

 

            “This isn’t exactly my favorite place to be,” Ambrosia admitted while Ralf sat beside her, his long black coat pooling around his waist. She eyed his stack. “Is that a comic?”

 

            Blushing, the vampire took a thin, colorful book from his pile and stashed it in his coat. “What is a valiant bounty hunter doing in such a scholastic place? I thought it was below you.”

 

            “Not much is below me these days,” she said, looking up at him. “Too short.”

 

            He let out a chuckle, surprised. “You, making jokes about yourself? I’m surprised.”

 

            “Actually, we’re researching something. Show him, girl.”

 

            Trying not to look at the vampire, who looked subtly amused, Eva slid him the pendent. He picked it up,

 

            “Well,” Ambrosia said. “Do you recognize it?”

 

            He looked at her in surprise. “That’s what you’re looking for? Ambrosia, where did you get this? The Order isn’t going to be happy to see you with it.”

 

            “A wolf gave it to—what?” She leapt to her feet, wounds smarting. “You know what this is?”

 

            “Shh!” the library golem hissed, putting a finger to its lips.

           

            Ralf smiled an apology and turned back to her. “You don’t?”

 

            “Of course I don’t! If I did, I wouldn’t be spending days sitting around a bunch of dusty books, looking at the same boring pictures. You mentioned some kind of—what, order?” She leveraged her paws on his knee, trying to get closer to his face. “Tell me about them.”

 

              He ran a thumb over the medallion, humming with thought. At last he looked at her. “Sorry, Ambrosia. Huy obviously has a reason for what she’s doing. It would be invasive of me to interfere.”

 

            “Ralf,” she growled.

 

            “It’s not my place. I’m an advisor. I gather information and talk to people, but it’s not my job to act. That’s your place. You’re the hunter, so hunt.”

 

            “I’m trying,” she said plaintively, wincing when he voice held the hint of a whine.

 

            “Then keep trying.”

 

            “But I can’t just sit around reading books! These people have the upper hand, and we have—” Her throat clenched. The next words scraped her throat. “A washed-out hunter and a kid.”

 

            He shook his head. “You act as if these people are your enemy.”

 

            “Of course they are! What else would they be?”

 

            He reached out a placed a gentle hand on her head. The act of affection froze her in place.

 

            "Relax, Ambrosia. Not everyone you meet it out to hurt you. I know that claim to have problems with trust, so I’m not asking you to trust them. But I am asking you to trust me. Give them a chance.”

 

            They stared at each other, his dark eyes boring into her. Ralf had worked with her since she came to this town. He had always done his work well, telling her what she needed to know and keeping her on the right track.  

 

            She looked away.

 

            “Actually, I’m glad to find you here,” he said, pulling his hand away and taking out a folder. “I have a bounty.”

 

            She relaxed at his business tone. This was something she could handle. When he set the folder before her, she drew her brows together. “A shade?”

 

            “Multiple shades, actually. Possibly. We’ve gotten sightings in multiple areas of town, and one contact said that he spotting a few together at once, heading out into the forest.”

 

            She shook her head. “I haven’t seen a wild shade since I came to this town. The only exception was that one with that obnoxious blood wizard.”

 

            “Could these events be connected?” Ralf asked as Eva scooted over to take a look.

 

            “Maybe. I didn’t think that there were any shades in these parts at all.”

 

            “Any town with such a high saturation with magic is bound to attract them. We normally have a group keeping them away, but apparently they aren’t as efficient as they usually are.”

 

            “Can we track them?” Eva whispered. She reached for the folder, but stopped and shot a guilty look at Ralf.

 

            “Go ahead,” he said. She blushed and began to thumb through the folder. “But no, we can’t track them. Shades are tricky creatures. The most we can do is lure them or catch them at a frequently visited area. I’m afraid that we currently don’t have enough information to do either.”

 

            “Well, tell me when you do,” Ambrosia grumbled. “That blood wizard might be connected, and we need to have a chat.”

 

            A smile quirked at the edge of Ralf’s mouth, revealing the tip of his fang. “I will.”

 

            He got to his feet, leaving the file to them. He was gone with a swish of his coat.

 

Soon after he left, Eva set her book down with a groan. “I have to get going. Math test in the morning.”

 

            “But we haven’t figured anything out!”

 

            “No matter how many supernatural creatures come knocking at your door, math marches on.” She piled their books together for the library golems to collect. “You can stay here if you want, though. I’m probably just blocking your progress.”

 

            Thinking about spending another few hours flipping through ancient symbology books, Ambrosia grimaced. “I’ll walk you home.”

 

            The night was crisp and clear. Street lamps painted splashes of yellow along the pavement as the two made their way through the night. Eve breathed out, watching fog pool around her mouth.

 

            “I hate the cold,” Ambrosia muttered. Her fur fluffed up against the offending chill.

 

            “Really? Can I ask why you moved out here? It’s not exactly warm for most of the year.”  

           

            “Let’s just saw that I was looking for something different than what I was used to. I should have decided that “different” did not relate to temperature.”

           

            “Look on the bright side. If you had never moved here, you would have never met me!” Eva said with a giggle.

 

            “You say that as if it’s a good thing.”

 

            “It was for me.” She paused. “Are you saying it wasn’t for you?”

 

            “Exactly.”

 

            The footsteps beside her stopped. Ambrosia kept walking for a moment, then stopped and looked back. Eva stood in the light of a street lamp, staring at her with damp blue eyes.

 

            “What?” Ambrosia said, feeling anger rise in her throat like hot air. “You act like that matters. I never planned to meet, and if I had my way I never would have. You’re a fine girl, but we don’t need to know each other. We don’t need to work together. I didn’t come here for an apprentice, and I don’t want one. But I don’t see how any of that matters. We’re here now, so we might as well get on with it.”

 

            Cold air tugged at Ambrosia’s fur. Her feet ached with the cold, and she wished that they would start walking again. She let out a breath of heat in an attempt to warm herself.

 

            “You don’t want me as an apprentice,” Eva said slowly, her voice hard to read.

 

            “I haven’t made that clear? No, I don’t want you as an apprentice. I don’t want anyone as an apprentice.”

 

            “Do you at least want me as a friend?”

 

             There was that anger again, the kind that burned in her veins without actually warming her. She felt her lip curl back in distaste. “Aren’t you listening? I didn’t come to this town to make friends. I just want to be left alone. I’ll be your mentor, and I’ll teach you what you need to be taught, but once this is all over, once I’m in my proper body and you know enough to survive on your own, you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. That’s the way it works. No friendship, no sappiness. Don’t you understand?”

 

            Eva stood in silence for a long moment. A car raced past, its lights throwing her shadow long and dark. At last she pressed her lip between her teeth and walked past Ambrosia, continuing on her way home.

 

            Ambrosia caught up beside her. Her sensitive ears barely caught the girl whisper into the frozen air, “I guess not.”

 

            She drew back a few paces, watching Eva walk before her. Passing cars cast the girl’s shadow across the pavement. Ambrosia wanted to feel angry, but she forced herself to feel nothing. Eva would see her anger like reflections on a pond, and Ambrosia didn’t want her to see any reaction.

 

            She came to this town for something different. She didn’t need to lose someone else.

 

            When Eva looked back, the little wizard had retreated even further.