Solidify

by Alexia Purdy

  “Hey.” I kneeled down and cupped her chin. Her color was returning, but there were tears streaming down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

  “How did this happen? Why me?”

  I leaned back. “I don’t know, but I promise I’ll help you figure it out. We got this.”

  She nodded, sniffling. “I’m not usually a crybaby, really. I see tons of crap at the hospital. This should be a cakewalk, but I’m so confused.”

  I rubbed her shoulders to calm her, feeling the heat of her body penetrating my skin. Her scent filled my nostrils again, clouding my thoughts. She smelled so good. It was a scent I had never experienced before, and it was enticing… arousing. I moved to crouch behind her and massaged her neck so she wouldn’t notice anything was off. I couldn’t scare her away with my uncontrolled desire, even though that would probably be best. I wasn’t the kind of guy who kept a woman around. They’d always get spooked or suspicious when I didn’t shower them with attention. I kept to myself for the most part. I needed someone who didn’t need a cling-on boyfriend and was well adjusted for lots of time alone, like me.

  It was damn near impossible to find someone like that.

  “Come on. Let’s get a bite to eat. Shifting can suck up the calories like nobody’s business. You’ll feel your head back on straight once you eat.” I beckoned her to come with me as I stood up, shaking off the edginess her presence caused. She followed without protest, slipping her tiny hand into mine. No matter the differences between us, this connection felt right, and I relished every second I could touch her.

  Malachi

  I stood in the middle of Town Hall Park in the New Town part of Woodland Creek, staring across the grassy acreage before me, feeling perplexed. I couldn’t remember why I was there or how I’d gotten there. Peering around, I found the square deserted. Not a single soul to be seen. What was even more odd was the color of everything; it was all shades of dark grey-blue, even though it felt like midday to me. I blinked, and the scene changed entirely.

  Now, the area was bustling with people. Familiar faces smiled as they passed me by, laughing at their own jokes as I remained glued to my spot. Cars sped past, birds flew by. But I couldn’t move. I was stuck in this one tiny square foot of ground. What was even worse was no one could hear or see me when they passed on by, no matter how much I yelled at them.

  “Hello?” I called out as loudly as I could, but no one answered. They went about their day unaware of my distress. The color hadn’t returned to the world, but no one seemed to notice the change as they walked on. No amount of waving brought their attention to my situation.

  What the hell is this? I thought.

  That’s when I saw her. A dark-haired woman who looked quite the opposite of Phoebe was approaching me. Her lips were painted what could have been a deep shade of red, but they appeared almost black in this colorless place. Her heart-shaped face was pretty in a fierce way even though her pallor made me think she wasn’t quite alive. Nothing about her felt right. In fact, the moment she stepped into my tiny bubble of silence, the world began screeching with noise.

  “Five days and you shall be mine.” She lifted a finger toward me, an amused twinkle in her eyes.

  “What?” I shook my head. “I don’t even know you.”

  She gave me a wicked smirk before she stepped forward, reaching out toward me. A girl was passing by near us and paused mid-step. She turned toward us in a trance-like state. She stepped forward and stopped in front of the dark-haired woman, facing her. The woman focused her attention on the girl, touched her shoulder and locked eyes with her.

  The girl turned to stone as though she’d never been real, but had instead been exquisitely carved out of rock. Perfectly still and unmoving, she was no longer breathing like she had been moments before. The porous surface of stone made her look ethereal and fragile.

  “What the hell?” I stumbled backward until my back was against the invisible barrier surrounding me in this gray world. There was no escape, and I was trapped. “What’d you do to her?”

  I faced the obsidian-haired woman, and the moment she laid her eyes on me, I felt my skin cracking like it was cold stone held under pressure. I peered down, but I was unchanged and normal.

  “Five days and the souls will be all mine. Bring me the last one, the one of light, before the full moon, and you can live by my side forever.”

  Her dark hair moved, and I had to rub my eyes to believe what I was seeing. What I thought were sleek black tresses were, in fact, an array of dark, oily snakes flicking their black tongues out at me, tasting the air. She laughed at my horror when I stumbled back. Instead of hitting the invisible wall again, I fell backward onto the cement, smacking my head on the hard ground with a crack. The sky morphed from a gray tone to a blood red tinge that darkened as the moments passed and I prayed for the strength to get back up.

  “Find the cursed one, and I will set you free. Bring her to me.” Her voice slid into my head and turned my world pitch black.

  I gasped, sitting up in bed, swatting at the air. The room was dark in the hours before dawn, and I fumbled to find the switch to flick on the lamp next to my bed. The light flooded the room, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut before I could adjust and focus on my surroundings.

  Nothing was amiss. It had all been a dream, but it had felt more than real if not extremely odd. The woman with a head of dark, obsidian snakes sent chills down my spine. Her face surfaced to the edge of my mind no matter how I tried to brush it away. I’d never met her before, and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me to conjure up such a nightmarish scene.

  “You okay?” A tiny voice from the doorway jolted me from my thoughts.

  “Phoebe,” I exhaled, relieved to find her instead of some other woman in my house. The way my night was going, I could have dreamt her into life. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

  “You were cursing in your sleep. Quite a potty mouth you got there.” Her arms crossed, and she leaned on the doorframe, one eyebrow higher than the other. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I rubbed my face, feeling the adrenaline ebb away. “Yeah. Just weird dreams. I don’t usually have nightmares. Not anymore.”

  She chewed on her lip, looking as tired as I felt. “You used to have them a lot?”

  “When I was a teenager. Things like my father’s death kept happening over and over and over in my dreams at night. Like a scratched record. It never failed to get my heart pumping in fear.”

  “Sounds crazy. How old were you when he died?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Wow, that’s young. How’d your mother take it?”

  “She left when I was ten.”

  “Oh.”

  Phoebe lowered her gaze. The awkward silence between us made me want to say something to break it. Anything.

  I held out my arm, beckoning her to come closer.

  “You comfortable in there?”

  “Yes, but I can’t sleep.”

  She took my gesture as a hint to crawl into the bed, and we both laid back as she snuggled into my side. It surprised me, but I didn’t protest. Her warmth and proximity were a shock to my body, in a good way. It aroused senses I’d long forgotten. I wondered if she could hear my heart speed up as she nuzzled my chest.

  “I could sleep anywhere.” I grinned. “Not that I’m in the habit of sleeping in lots of strange beds.”

  “I usually can, but it’s just… I don’t want to be alone right now. It’s been a crazy day, and I feel that if I’m left alone, whoever did this to me will find me. I know it sounds crazy.”

  I rubbed her arm, hoping to ward off the cool night air clinging to her clothes.

  “It doesn’t sound crazy. I don’t believe you should be alone either. We’ll find who did this to you and set things right.”

  She turned her head and peered at me, leaning her chin on her hand. “What if it’s permanent?”

  I blew out a breath, still feeling slightly groggy and not quite focused. “Well, if
we can’t fix it, you’ll be a shifter, like me. You’ll learn to live with it. Control it. I have to say, there are worst things that could happen to you than being a shifter. I mean, you’re a nurse. I’m sure you see a lot of crap at the hospital compared to being able to turn into a bird. Hell, you should consider yourself special.”

  She nodded, a small laugh escaping her lips. “True. One time, a man came in and his foot was gangrenous and full of maggots. He was diabetic, and it was quite a sight to see them crawling all over his flesh. It was a trip. He didn’t even seem to mind it at all. Of course, the foot had to be amputated. I don’t think I’d want to lose a limb.”

  “See? Things can definitely be worse. Now that’s a mental picture I don’t want to see again.” I scratched my head before slipping my arm underneath and cradling it. Closing my eyes, I relished her nearness. Every cell of my body was electrified under her touch, and I had to relax or she’d see the effects under the sheets.

  “True. I just keep running the whole damn day through my head, and I just can’t remember. All I see is trees and sky while I fly. I know it’s me flying, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Why would someone do this to me? And how?”

  “Well, there is a wizarding family in the Old Town part of Woodland Creek. We could pay them a visit tomorrow. Maybe they know of a counter spell to fix this for you. Or maybe, if we’re lucky, they can help us find whoever did this to you and get justice.”

  I felt her move back to her previous position in the crook of my arm. I could feel my consciousness slipping away, spent. The day’s events had worn me out, starting with my spontaneous decision to leave Woodland Creek forever. It was all taking a toll, and I was exhausted.

  But Phoebe needed me, and I wanted to help her more than I’d wanted to do anything else in a long time. I was compelled to help her, for I didn’t have any other reasons to stay. I’d made up my mind to leave, and I was still intent on keeping that promise to myself.

  As she snuggled into my chest, I became aware that she’d fallen asleep; her breaths turned rhythmic and slow. The thought of leaving was far from my mind. First, we had to find out who’d done this to her and why. There had to be a thread of clues somewhere, and I was pretty good at finding out things most people would never discover. It was part of my nature, a sort of tug toward what needed to be found. I didn’t know what to call it. Even though I was a guarded recluse and rarely spoke to the townspeople—they were one of the reasons I was leaving—I would do everything in my power to help this woman. She meant that much to me already.

  Without any effort, she’d become part of me, the driving force that made me look forward to the next day and give it my all. There was no turning back now.

  Phoebe

  The two-story Victorian house stood on a hill tucked at the edge of Old Town and belonged to one of the founding families of Woodland Creek. The house was old as Egypt, at least, it felt like it could be. Everything had been replaced multiple times on it, and additions had been added over the years making it appear more of a puzzle box than the mansion that it was. I’d walked one of the roads down the hill many times heading to school as a girl, and it had seemed oppressively large and daunting high up on the road, looking down on all the world.

  I never knew a wizarding family lived there.

  There was never a need for me to get this close to it before. Rumors spun that it was haunted and the owners were lunatics or belonged to some cult. Now that I knew they were actually wizards, my entire perspective became skewed. How many other houses in town were full of supernatural beings, blending in like normal people, baking apple pies for school fundraisers and bake sales?

  I shuddered as we walked up the drive from the road. The place gave me the creeps.

  “You sure there’s not like some Doberman guard dog about to be set on us?” I asked. I kept darting my eyes about nervously. We’d just walked onto the property. A lot of people kept their doors unlocked and their gates open. It was a small town, and nothing ever happened. Or so I had thought. How wrong I’d been for way too long.

  Malachi cocked his head and sniffed the air. “Nope, no dogs here. I believe the Whitmans are allergic to almost every animal in existence. Anyhow, they know we’re coming. I called them in case they had to premedicate with allergy meds to meet with us. When I say allergic, I mean it’s serious; they have an anaphylaxis allergic reaction to most animals.”

  “Why would they want to live here, then? Isn’t it crawling with animal shifters?” I asked, keeping my voice low in case supersonic hearing was a special wizard power. I didn’t want to insult the only ones who could help me out before I met them.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea.” Malachi winked and led me up to the massive front door. It looked like it’d come from an ancient Transylvanian castle and didn’t match the Victorian patchwork feel of the rest of the house. I gulped as he reached out and used the huge grotesque-looking door knocker to tap on the door. It echoed beyond into the deep-sounding interior of the house. It felt deafening in the silence of the morning.

  Goosebumps flared to life on my arms. A feeling of being watched crept up my spine, and I tipped my head to each side to check our surroundings. Nothing happened. I was probably becoming more and more paranoid as time went on. Was it a side effect of being a shifter? No wonder none of them ever attempted to go public. It was downright insanity to go babbling about turning into animals or something supernatural. I’d be tossed into the looney asylum in no time. I didn’t even hear anyone behind the door until the lock creaked as it was undone before the massive door swung inward.

  An old woman with an impossibly tight bun pulled taut on the back of her head looked down her nose at us. She wore an old-fashioned black dress, much like the Amish in the country wore, but she was definitely not Amish. The stark silver cross draped around her neck shined under the morning sun, right into my eyes. I barely reached her mid chest and felt tiny compared to this lanky woman.

  “Ah, hello Mrs. Whitman. Thank you for having us over. I apologize for taking up your time, but this is my friend Phoebe Reynolds. I told you about her over the phone?” Malachi spoke politely, but his tone made it sound like he was afraid she might have already forgotten. It felt like she had, for her eyes dug into him like two fireplace pokers, scrutinizing him like a pile of ashes.

  “Yes, I remember,” she said, focusing her attention on me for a moment, eyeing me up and down before opening the door a crack more. “Please, come in. We’ve been expecting you.”

  She allowed just enough room for us to squeeze through and closed the door with a loud, resonating thud once we were past the threshold.

  “Follow me, please. My husband Leonard is expecting you.” Mrs. Whitman led us past a large foyer and into a hall that split into other passageways every three doors. There was clearly more to this house than was visible from the road. She turned at the fourth hallway, then again past two more doors before taking us into one of the rooms. I doubted I could find my way back out to the front, for we had gone through several other turns before getting to the room.

  “Wait here.” She motioned to the sofas lining one wall. It was a library filled with old leatherbound books, and it smelled like them too. I was in awe of the collection, and after Mrs. Whitman had left and shut the door behind her, I perused the shelves while Malachi took a seat on the sofa.

  “Wow. These are amazing!” I gushed. I was a self-proclaimed book addict, and if I was ever allowed to, I’d stay in a room like this for days without coming up for air. “These have to be hundreds of years old! Look how the binding is hand sewn and how the embossed leather has imperfections! I bet the pages are delicate and can’t be handled much.”

  Malachi shook his head, looking bored. He had no appreciation for such things. It was disappointing he obviously didn’t like to read.

  “It smells like a dead person in here, Phoebe. Not sure what’s so amazing about that.”

  I reached out toward one particular volume which h
ad captured my attention. Drawn to it, I was almost within reach as I read the title: Dark Arts and How to Prevent Situations when a voice jolted me out of this trancelike desire.

  “No touching, please. You never know what you’re going to wake up.”

  I jumped, my hands falling to my sides. “Sorry! I didn’t know.”

  The old man now standing in the doorway waved his hands in the air as if he was swatting away a fly. “No matter. You wouldn’t have known that now, would you?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Now, Miss…?”

  “Phoebe. Phoebe Reynolds.”

  “Ah, yes. Pardon this old man’s memory. It’s had better days.”

  I smiled, eyeing Malachi, who was watching us with increasing interest.

  “Malachi told me of your unique situation. I have to say, I’ve not seen a forced transformation like this in quite a long time. Something special is in the air.” He tapped his fingers together as his eyes studied me.

  “I’ll say.” I slid down onto the couch as Leonard made himself comfortable in the chair across from us.

  “Is there someone you’ve had problems with lately? A ‘frenemy’ of sorts? Isn’t that what they call it these days?”

  I shook my head, racking my brain for any clues. “No. No… frenemies. No one.”

  “Strange. Maybe someone you don’t know about.” He leaned forward and lowered his spectacles, eyeing me up and down. I felt like I was going to be dissected into tiny bits and examined under a microscope. I swallowed.

  Leonard turned to Malachi. “Did you bring the souvenir I asked for?”

  Confused, I turned to watch Malachi produce one of my feathers and hand it over to Leonard. Throwing Malachi an inquisitive but suspicious look, I got no response. He simply ignored me.

  Great.

  “Ah, very well. Let’s get this started.”

  “Um, what exactly are you going to do?” I asked. I wasn’t leaving anything to fate. If he was just going to cast a spell on me, I wanted to know about it. No more would I be left in the dark, naïve and exposed.