Showers, Flowers, and Fangs

by Aidan Wayne

  “I don’t think he’d stop talking to you,” Trisha said. “You’re his best friend.”

  “Which means I can’t betray his trust by also maybe kind of wanting to kiss him maybe! Help me keep from making this weird,” he begged. “I have zero experience in this.”

  Trisha sighed. Darren was positive she was rolling her eyes over the phone. “Darren, just keep being you. If you really don’t want to try anything, nothing has to change.”

  “But I’ll mess up,” Darren whined. “You know I have no brain-to-mouth filter. I’ll say something stupid.”

  “Darren—”

  “Trish, what do I do? He’s in my bedroom. He is changing in my bedroom, Trisha!”

  That gave Trisha pause. “Why’s he changing in your bedroom?”

  “He went out into the storm with me,” Darren said impatiently. “It was awesome. Also, part of the reason I am having a crisis here.”

  “Look,” Trisha said, voice matter-of-fact, “he clearly likes you. I don’t think it’ll be a big deal, even if he finds out. He knows you’re bi already. It happens.”

  “Knowing that a dude could be interested in dudes is different from being the dude that dude is interested in,” Darren said.

  “Okay, fair point.” Trisha sighed. “But really, Darren, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. He might figure it out, ’cause he’s smart, but as long as you’re not weird about it, I don’t think it’ll upset him.”

  “So how do I not make it weird?”

  “Well, for starters, ditching him to call me in a panic is pretty weird,” Trisha said.

  Darren groaned and smacked his forehead. “Ugh, I’m so bad at this. I gotta go. Sorry.” He hung up and jogged back up the stairs to his bedroom. Vlad looked up from where he was toweling off. He was wearing the basketball shorts Darren’d given him, but was shirtless, wiping down his chest. Darren ruthlessly squashed the temptation to stare and tried for a smile.

  “Sorry about that,” he said weakly. “I think my mind’s still just buzzing.”

  Vlad nodded, accepting that. “Dry off,” he said, holding out a second towel. “You’re dripping all over your floor.”

  “My parents expect the dripping at this point,” Darren said, taking the towel. “Why do you think the whole house is hardwood? They pulled up all the carpet when I was eight.”

  “Really?” Vlad asked. “Just because you got wet a lot?”

  “Well… it might’ve had something to do with the fact that the carpet kept growing mushrooms. Wood floors are a lot more stubborn.”

  Vlad snorted and pulled his borrowed shirt on, thank god. And nodded at the towel Darren was still just holding. “Hardwood or not,” he said, “you should probably get dry.” He stilled, suddenly awkward. “Um. I can… leave the room, if you want to change.”

  “Huh?” Darren tugged at his wet shirt. “Oh. That’s—uh. Yeah I. I’ve got a binder on underneath this, but that’s probably soaked too. I’ve got to uh, change out of it.”

  “Okay,” Vlad said, sounding strangled. He was looking sort of above Darren’s right shoulder.

  Darren blanched. “I just mean—you won’t see anything! ’Cause of the—I mean, my chest looks flat, but I still wear the binder for myself, even if no one can see my chest, so it’s just there, like a clingy crop top and I… I’m gonna stop talking now.” Way to make things weird already, Darren. “I just—you can leave, if you wanna,” he forced out. “I mean. I am gonna have to take it all off. The clothes, I mean. Not the glamour.”

  Vlad swallowed, then shrugged. “I don’t care if you don’t,” he said. He turned around, ostensibly gathering up the wet clothes he’d left in a pile on the floor into his towel. Darren’s lips quirked as he used the opportunity to strip and tug on a dry set of clothes and set to towel-drying his hair. Vlad still hadn’t turned around.

  Vlad was a good guy.

  “Wanna watch a movie or something?” Darren asked, in part to signal that Vlad could turn around if he wanted to.

  “Sure,” Vlad said, getting to his feet. And leaving his clothes where they were on the towel, Darren noticed with amusement.

  “Okay,” Darren said as they headed down to the living room. “It’s your turn to pick the movie. I’m going to grab something to drink. You want anything?”

  “Water, please.”

  Darren filled two cups with water, using the time alone to get his head back together. He was going to keep hanging out with his friend, and they were going to have a good time, and Darren wasn’t going to do something stupid to mess things up just because he realized that he might be a tiny bit in love with said friend. Statistically Vlad was straight and into girls. He even had a type, even if Romina wasn’t it. And Darren was not a girl, so it didn’t matter that Darren wanted to date Vlad, because it wasn’t going to happen. Simple, rational, done. Life could go on now, please.

  Nodding decisively, Darren went back into the living room. And promptly had to swallow, because he forgot that Vlad was a weirdo who always sat in the exact middle of the couch when given the opportunity. It usually meant that they gravitated to sitting practically on top of each other during the action movies they both liked, and it’s not like Darren minded, but damn it, Vlad couldn’t make things easy, could he.

  “Darren?” Vlad asked, and right, Darren was frozen in the living room like an idiot. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine! Totally and completely fine. What movie did you pick?”

  Chapter Eight

  ON SATURDAY, Darren shrunk.

  He didn’t know what happened, or why, or what triggered it. One minute he was in the clearing, watching Vlad demonstrate a truly impressive age-up glamour and rubbing at his arms, the buzz back under his skin, and the next minute he was four inches tall, staring up at Vlad in horror.

  “What did you do?” Vlad breathed, crouching down to look at him.

  “I don’t know!” Darren squeaked, then winced. He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. He could see Vlad choke down a snicker.

  “This isn’t funny!” Darren said, trying not to panic. “I’ve never shrunk before! I shouldn’t even be able to! My dad didn’t learn to shrink until he was twenty-seven, and he was an early bloomer! And I don’t know how to undo it.” He blew air out through his nose and glared up at Vlad. “You’re too far away. Pick me up. Carefully!” he added, leaping back a little as Vlad’s hand descended.

  Vlad, because he was smart, didn’t try to pick Darren up. Instead he laid his hand flat on the moss and let Darren climb into his palm.

  “Whoa,” Darren said, clinging to Vlad’s thumb as he was lifted into the air in front of Vlad’s face. “Hey, you have freckles,” he said, since he was still trying not to panic and distraction always helped with that. “I never noticed that before. How does a vampire get freckles?”

  “I… I had them before I was turned,” Vlad whispered, and Darren could’ve kissed him for thinking to do that; even the whisper was loud, and he didn’t much fancy blowing out his eardrums. “But, Darren, you’re tiny.”

  “I’m four inches tall,” Darren said promptly, before clutching at his hair. “And I know that. Why do I know that?”

  “I think we’d better go get your parents,” Vlad said.

  “My dad’s working from home today,” Darren said. “Call him and have him come here.” He didn’t think leaving the clearing was a good idea. At least he felt safer inside it.

  Vlad nodded and pulled out his phone with his other hand, holding it up. “What’s his number?” Darren rattled off his dad’s cell number and hoped his father actually answered it.

  Three worry-filled rings later, he picked up. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Qh’lothital,” Vlad said in a rush, dropping his other hand so Darren wasn’t right by his mouth. “This is Vlad, Darren’s friend?”

  “Of course, Vlad, what’s—”

  “Darren and I are at the clearing in the woods near your house. Darren shrunk and does not kno
w how to turn back.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  The call disconnected.

  Vlad dropped his phone with a sigh. “He said he’s coming.”

  Darren nodded. “Right, pick me up and put me on your shoulder.”

  “Why?” Vlad asked as he settled Darren on his right shoulder.

  Darren grabbed two fistfuls of T-shirt and held on as tight as he could. “So you don’t accidentally squish me when my dad shows up.”

  “What?” Vlad said, horrified. “Why would—Aaah!” He flailed backward as Darren’s dad materialized in the faerie circle.

  “That would be why,” Darren said, wincing at the ringing in his ears. “Fae can travel from circle to circle. Didn’t I tell you that? I think I told you that.”

  “You didn’t tell me that,” Vlad whispered frantically as Darren’s father walked over to them.

  “Hello, Vlad,” he said, smiling down at him. “Thank you for calling me. May I?” He held out a hand. Vlad nodded and slightly turned to give better access to his shoulder.

  “So,” his father murmured once Darren was sitting safely in his palm. “What exactly happened?”

  “No idea,” Darren squeaked. “One minute I’m sitting in the moss, doing nothing, mind you, next minute I’m like this.” Stupid fae genes. “I thought you said I wouldn’t even be able to shrink!”

  “Well, you’ve never ceased to surprise me before.” His father sighed. “Has anything else been going on? If not today, then recently?”

  Darren shook his head. “Just enjoying the rainy season. I can feel the storms before they happen now too, which is pretty cool. And the mushrooms growing everywhere, but you knew about that already. And that’s it.”

  Darren’s father frowned thoughtfully. “Have you still been… buzzing, lately?”

  Darren flicked a quick glance at Vlad and nodded. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “More than usual. Way more than last year.”

  “Okay,” his father said. “I’m going to get you home. I think we need to go over this in a little more depth.”

  “You’re gonna call Gran, aren’t you?” Darren said miserably.

  “Sorry, son. That’s the way it’s gotta be.” He turned to Vlad. “Thank you for taking care of him and calling me. I’ll have him call you when he’s back to normal, all right?”

  “Please,” Vlad said, eyeing Darren. Jeez his eyes were green.

  “Let’s just hope my cell phone unshrinks with me,” Darren said, trying for a smile. “I’ll call you soon, ’kay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Darren said, looking up at his father. “Let’s go visit Gran.” His dad tucked Darren into his shirt pocket, and the two of them disappeared into the faerie circle.

  IT WASN’T that Darren minded visiting his grandmother. She was fine, if a little too fond of nicknames and riddles, but it was kind of hard for Darren to deal with the fae in large doses, and not only was his glamour useless, but a lot of people disregarded it. Not cool.

  Luckily, Gran was not one of those people.

  “My little seedling!” she said, smiling down at Darren, who’d been placed on a large sunflower for safekeeping. He was currently taking advantage of his seat to stress-eat seeds. “You have shrunk, I see!”

  “And can’t figure out how to turn back, yeah.” Darren sighed. “Could you at least join me or something? It sounds like you’re shouting at me.”

  His grandmother gave him a fond look and there was the smell of honeysuckle, and then she and Darren’s father were both standing in front of him on the sunflower.

  “Seed?” Darren offered. His father rolled his eyes, but his grandmother chuckled, folding herself down, still spry.

  “Take a seat, Tamal’k,” she told Darren’s dad, patting the space next to her. He sat. “Now, then,” Gran said, steepling her fingers at Darren. “What’s been going on? All of it, seedling.”

  “There’s not much to tell.” Darren raked a hand through his hair. “Everything’s been pretty much business as usual. Until today. I mean, the birds and bugs and plants have all been driving me crazy—more than usual, but you said that was just puberty coming on early, right?”

  “Perhaps. Anything else?”

  “Darren,” his father prompted. “The storms?”

  “Oh. Yeah. But that’s normal too.” At his grandmother’s raised eyebrow, Darren added, “Gran, you know I’ve always had a thing for the weather.”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “And before I had assumed it was because of your fae connection with plants. L’lm’qth.” And that was a phrase Darren didn’t even know.

  His father looked shocked. “Mother!”

  So apparently his father did.

  “Hush,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’m thinking. Seedling, I want you to describe exactly what you have been doing and feeling lately. Every detail. Especially the feelings.”

  “Uh, okay.” Darren thought back over the last couple of months, trying to get details straight in his head. He told her about his hands-on classes and the exercises he’d been doing and the practices with his dad. He told her how wrung out he’d started feeling, how his magic had felt stretched thin and dry, the buzzing under his skin that felt like he was crackling with energy but couldn’t reach it, and how desperate he’d been for rain, the rain that had taken nearly an extra month to fall, and how totally alive he felt afterward, like he could almost pull the drops out of the sky himself. He talked about how he’d been spending more time soaked than dry when he could get away with it, how he had a constant hum of energy under his skin that he didn’t know what to do with, even when he tried to pour it into plants, and how he kept growing stuff accidentally, mostly mushrooms popping up everywhere he went.

  Gran frowned at him and reached out to grab Darren’s chin, tilting his head from side to side, looking in his eyes, pressing open his mouth to look at his teeth.

  “Uh—”

  She let him go and sat back. “Take your glamour off, seedling.”

  “What? Why?”

  She flicked an impatient hand. “Your glamour. When was the last time you removed it?”

  “Not, uh, not for a while,” Darren said. “It’s pretty much a second skin by now. I don’t even have to think about it. It—it doesn’t use up much energy.”

  “I know you don’t want to, but I need you to take it off. You’ve gotten much better at it lately, and I can’t see through all of it as easily as I once did.”

  Darren darted a look at his father, who gave him a helpless shrug. “O-okay. Uh, sure.” He took a deep breath and concentrated; removing the glamour was almost more difficult to do after so long of being himself with it. When he released the breath, he crossed his arms over his chest, feeling naked, even with his binder on underneath his shirt.

  He was suddenly glad that Vlad had refused his offer that one time. Darren hadn’t known he’d feel this uncomfortable.

  “Okay,” he said and cringed. His voice had already sounded helium-high, but now he was a female chipmunk. “Uh, ta-da?” He wiggled his fingers, and his grandmother’s eyes narrowed and she snatched his hand. “Gran—” He stopped and stared down at his hands.

  There were little blue-and-white patterns swirling over the backs of his hands and up his forearms. He turned his arms over to see that the pattern continued on the underside. There was an Asian-looking character in the middle of both palms.

  “Is that Chinese?” he gaped, bringing both hands up to his face. “What—when—Dad, these were never there before, I swear.”

  Gran nodded, like she’d solved the puzzle. “Tamal’k,” she said. “Does Cassandra have any magic on her side of the family at all?”

  His father looked surprised at the question. “Not that I know of,” he said eventually, looking between his son and his mother. “And we looked pretty hard into her family tree when we found out she was pregnant.”

  “I’d advise you look again,” she said. “Check for ancestors who remarried a
fter having children, or who had spouses vanish. She’s got some Dragon King blood in her. Though I’m not certain which one. Probably Ào Qin.” She sniffed. “His line had a fondness for humans.”

  “Dragon King?” Darren squeaked.

  Gran nodded. “Their magic never mixed well with humans, which is probably why no one ever noticed. But you’re not all human, seedling.”

  “But I—this never showed up before,” Darren said. “Why now? And how do I fix it? And how do I get unshrunk?”

  “The Dragon King spark probably lay dormant for generations,” Gran said, snapping her fingers. A buttercup appeared in her palm and she paused to take a sip. “They’re attuned to the weather, riding the storm and the winds. Fae are nature folk. We rely on the weather and use it, work with it. And you’re maturing now, coming into your full power. All of your abilities are coming to light.”

  “But fae don’t start to mature until their thirties,” Darren said. “You both said that.”

  She inclined her head. “But humans mature in younger years,” she said. “We already established that you had begun your fae growth this year, as a result. And I don’t know how children of the Dragon Kings mature.”

  “I just remembered,” his father said suddenly, “when Darren got his period, his powers went crazy for that whole week. He had an overflow of energy for days.”

  Darren swallowed. “Uh, Dad? That… that wasn’t because of my period. Or. Not completely because of it?”

  His father narrowed his eyes, recognizing that tone. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, um. I. Might’ve gotten hit by lightning. A little.”

  “Darren.”

  “I didn’t get hurt! Like—totally the opposite!”

  “Seedling,” his grandmother said, voice stern, “you were struck by lightning the week you began your human maturation?”

  Darren bit his lip. “Yes?”

  “And he’s been getting power bursts again, now that his fae side has started maturing,” his father said with dawning realization.

  Gran nodded. “He’s coming into his own. And his own is a very interesting mix.”