Argentum (P.A.W.S. Book 2)

by Debbie Manber Kupfer

  “It is true,” he said, “that we have yet to apprehend all of Alistair’s pack. I can make a list if you would like. Some I know were killed the night of the battle, but others could still be roaming. There were definitely those who wanted to be like Alistair, to gain immortality. They may still be killing on the night of the full moon, when the opportunity is present.”

  “A list, yes . . . that would be good,” replied Jessamyn.

  Quentin smiled. “My pleasure,” he said. “And now, how about a distraction? I wondered if you would like to accompany me on a picnic. The venerable Mr. Hogsworth is preparing us a basket of goodies as I speak. Please, will you join me, madam?” The last words were accompanied by a flourish and a bow and Jessamyn, despite her worries, giggled.

  “I would love to, sir,” she replied with a curtsy.

  The picnic was fun and carefree. Quentin showed off by animating napkins into butterflies and making parades of dancing spoons with the use of his wand. For Jessamyn, it was like she was young again, like Quentin was able to stop the clock not just for himself, but for her too.

  But later that night, after Quentin had left her chamber, Jessamyn started going over their earlier conversation. Suddenly, she sat up in shock. No, it couldn’t be. He had sworn to her that when he was done with his supply of potion he would make no more, could make no more. But what if . . . what if he was working with a werewolf? Immortality was tough to give up, especially after so many centuries. She loved Quentin, but he had proved over and over that he was weak. He had lived in Alistair’s shadow for such a long time and looked the other way. Was it really possible he had changed?

  After about a month at sea, Jessamyn and Quentin finally arrived in America. They flew into the New York harbor in the form of gulls, but quickly learned that in the city, the pigeon was the preferred form. Natural pigeons were wiry, no nonsense, tough—mirroring the personalities of their human neighbors. They taught Jessamyn and Quentin how to scavenge on the city streets, to peck themselves a living. The couple built themselves a nest in a treetop in Central Park. It was a temporary solution though, while the weather was fair. In the winter, they knew they would have to find somewhere else.

  In the park, when they were sure no one was watching, they would change back into human form. Jessamyn had grown a lot in the last few months and was on her way to becoming a woman. Quentin rationed the little bit of potion he still had with him. Sure, he’d decided that immortality wasn’t worth the price, but still, he didn’t want to embrace his mortality just yet, when there was a whole new world to explore—a world free of Alistair.

  One night though, as they were turning back into pigeons in order to snuggle into their nest, they were spotted. A large tawny owl was out flying at dusk, as she customarily did.

  “Aha,” she thought, but she left them alone that night, and the next morning, before she went to open the library at P.A.W.S., she went to see the Head of the Institute and told him about the two new animagi she had seen in the park.

  The following evening, the librarian, Maybelline Ainsworth, led Quentin and Jessamyn into the P.A.W.S. Institute of New York and a new portion of their lives began.

  Chapter 35

  The next morning, Miri decided to take the book to the library. Maybe the librarian could help her determine what it was. The empty pages frustrated her. “Argentum,” she knew from her classes with Professor Ainsworth, meant silver in Latin. It was an important element for magic, the element of her charm. Could there possibly be a link between her charm and this book? And how come the old crone had given it to her? Where did she get it from? Did she find it in her omama’s apartment in the back of some drawer? Her omama kept a lot of trinkets. That was one of the reasons she had come back to New York. She hoped that the new resident of the apartment she’d grown up in would have kept some mementoes, would have at least let her see the inside of her old place.

  She walked over to the library. The librarian, was sitting at a large desk going through a huge tome. Her round, thick spectacles fell to the end of her nose as she studied the pages. As Miri entered, she looked up and smiled and beckoned her over.

  “Do you see this?” she said, pointing to an illustration on the page. “This is a wizzlewoop. They’re very rare. It’s says that the last one was spotted by a magician in Wales over fifty years ago. Idiot! Apparently he caught it and used it in a cauldron of pea soup. Terrible waste, that. The last known wizzlewoop was made into pea soup! Well, I hope he enjoyed it.”

  Maybelline looked up. “And what can I do for you dear? Is the map working out?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Miri. “I wanted to ask you about this.” She held up the purple book.

  “Oh, what do you have there, dear? Let me take a look.”

  Miri handed it over to her.

  “Hmm, seems old and definitely magical. Argentum—well, there are lot of spells that use that word. A spell book, maybe?” She opened the cover and gazed at the blank pages. “Now, that’s odd. Where did you come by this, child?”

  Miri explained to her about the crone she’d met.

  “Interesting.” Maybelline opened her desk and took out a light, pencil-thin wand of silver. She waved it over the book and uttered some words:

  “Argentum revelare secretum tuum.”

  Miri and Maybelline waited and watched, but nothing happened.

  “Hmm,” said the librarian, “do you by any chance have a wand of your own, Miri?”

  “No,” replied Miri, “I’m a shapeshifter, not a magician. I have a charm.”

  “May I see it?”

  “Sure,” said Miri, and she took out the silver chain from underneath her shirt where it always sat.

  Miri gasped. As the charm passed over the book, the eyes of the cat glowed green as it usually only did when she was turning; but Miri had no urge this time to turn feline, rather she was mesmerized by the book. The silver letters on its front also seemed to be glowing now, as if the silver was white hot. Tentatively, she turned the cover. On the first page, which had previously been blank, there were now words, but she could not read them:

  לדור מדור שעבר פלץ משפחת קסם של ההיסטוריה זו

  She could identify the language—Hebrew. She had seen it in Max’s old prayer books in their apartment, but she’d never learned it herself. After her husband had died, Celia turned away from the synagogue and brought Miri up with Jewish traditions, but without the language.

  At Saul Emmanuel, it was optional, and Miri, behind on most of her regular school subjects, opted not to take it.

  “Can you read it?” asked Maybelline.

  “No,” Miri replied, shaking her head.

  She flipped the pages of the book. But the rest of the pages remained blank and her charm seemed to have no effect on them.

  Miri thanked the librarian and walked back to her room.

  She lay down on her bed and opened the book and stared at the Hebrew words, willing herself to make sense of them, but they just seemed like squiggles on the page to her. She threw down the book on the bed.

  There was a knock at the door and Danny walked in.

  “Hey there, we wondered what happened to you.”

  “Why do you care? Don’t you have Demonica to keep you company?”

  “Oh, don’t be like that, Miri. She’s just an old friend, okay? You’d like her if you got to know her.”

  “I don’t think so,” replied Miri, turning away.

  Danny noticed the book on the bed and walked over and picked it up.

  “What’s this, Miri?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied miserably. She explained to Danny about the old crone who had given her the book and how, with the help of the librarian, she had uncovered the Hebrew words.

  “But it doesn’t help much,” Miri said. “I don’t speak Hebrew and neither does Maybelline.”

  “There’s bound to be someone here who reads Hebrew,” said Danny. “Why don’t we take this down to the d
ining hall and ask around?”

  “No,” replied Miri, “I don’t think I want to do that. It seems private somehow. I think I want to take it back to St. Louis. Maybe I’ll visit Josh’s mom again. She might know.”

  “All right then, if that’s how you feel, but I’m hungry, so let’s go to the dining room anyhow.”

  Reluctantly, Miri agreed and left with Danny, first carefully stowing the book in her backpack.

  When they reached the dining room, Demonica was already there, sitting with a group of her friends. She waved over to Danny and after they had filled their trays, Miri followed him over to her table determined to make small talk. I mustn’t be jealous, she thought to herself.

  At the table, she concentrated on her food and tried to block out the flirty emotions that were emanating from Demonica. Miri noticed Oswald waltz into the dining room. He made his way around the tables, exchanging gossip with the students, and finally arrived at their table.

  “So, young Miss Katz, how has your visit to our humble Institute been thus far?”

  “Uh . . . very nice sir,” replied Miri.

  “Oh, do call me Oswald. Everybody does! Are you going to the concert tomorrow night?”

  “Concert?”

  “Young Demonica here. They are really quite good, you know. Wouldn’t dream of missing it. I have a wonderful pink suit that I’ve had specially tailored for the occasion.”

  As he talked, Miri found herself glancing down at Oswald’s lurid pink leather boots. She noticed with amusement that he was standing on one leg. It was so blatantly obvious to everyone that Oswald was an animagus flamingo! Miri smiled, imagining him in his bird form.

  Miri tried to sample a little of Oswald’s emotions. She had always been wary of this with Jessamyn, but Oswald seemed so much less imposing. She was surprised when, after a couple of seconds, he slammed his mental shield down—a solid pink wall. Oswald, she realized, was far more formidable that his flamboyant exterior would have you believe.

  “Oh, you must come, Miri,” Demonica was saying sweetly. “I’ve been trying to convince Danny to bring his guitar and jam with us.”

  Miri nodded distractedly. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, and at least that way she could keep an eye on Danny.

  After supper they went into the rec room, but the noise and sheer variety of emotions there were starting to give Miri a headache. She excused herself and walked back alone to her room.

  The next day, Miri escaped into Central Park for most of the day. She alternated between her forms, spending some time chasing squirrels and birds in her cat form and the rest wandering around the less-traveled paths in her human form, avoiding the crowds as much as she could.

  She tried not to think about Danny and Demonica. She missed Danny terribly, but definitely didn’t want to be a third wheel as he hung out with Demonica. Still, she had promised she would go to the concert that night. So around dinner time she returned to P.A.W.S., ate briefly, and went back to her room to get ready.

  She hadn’t brought many clothes with her from St. Louis, just a few T-shirts and pairs of jeans. She selected the cleanest, laid them on the bed, and took a shower. She lingered beneath the warm cascade. Showers always calmed her and helped her think. Miri still enjoyed writing stories and in the middle of the soapy waterfall still the best ideas came, when of course there was no way of writing them down.

  Today she thought about the book. She decided that before she left New York she would go back one last time to the Lower East Side. Maybe she could talk to the old crone? Maybe even see Jenny?

  She finished her shower, toweled off, and put on her jeans and a purple T-shirt. She looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and she needed to have it cut. She ran a brush through her tangles and tied it up with a purple scrunchie that matched her shirt. Not too bad, she thought, but of course she knew that Demonica would outshine her.

  Steeling herself, she went and knocked on Danny’s door. She could hear laughter coming from within his room.

  “Come in, join the party!” called out Danny. The small room was filled with people.

  “Hi, Miri,” said Danny, “let me introduce you to the Screaming Foxes!”

  The band members waved and went back to their conversations. There were four of them apart from Demonica, all girls, and all wearing T-shirts emblazed with the Screaming Fox logo.

  “We’d better get going, guys,” said Demonica after a few minutes, and everyone paraded out of Danny’s room. Miri trailed the group as they walked through the corridors of P.A.W.S. to the elevator. It took several trips before everyone was out in the park by the oak tree.

  Once they were all outside, they shifted into their animal forms. Now there were five foxes and two cats chasing each other through the park. Miri tried hard to keep up, but felt she was losing them. It was dark in the park and she was disorientated.

  She stopped, not knowing where to go. Maybe she should go back, but she wasn’t really sure which way was back. Suddenly she felt a paw nudge her shoulder. She looked up and there was Danny in his familiar Maine Coon form.

  “It’s okay, Miri. I would never leave you alone.” His words came to her through her whiskers and he gently nuzzled her nose with his. “Come on,” he said, “we’d better go. It will be starting soon.”

  Miri followed Danny. They reached a large outdoor amphitheater. They changed back into human form and found seats near the front. The theater was filling up.

  “This is where they have ‘Shakespeare in the Park’ in the summer,” said Danny, “but today for the concert Oswald has placed special wards around the theatre, so only those with magic can come to the concert.”

  Miri looked around at the crowd. Some looked like regular teen concert goers, with ripped jeans and T-shirts, a few with tattoos and piercings, and a handful with brightly colored hair.

  There were others though, who looked anything but normal. A group to her left had green translucent skin and to her right she noticed a couple with light gossamer wings and silver antenna. Miri had learned in her classes with Professor Ainsworth at P.A.W.S. that there were non-human magical creatures that shared this earth with them, but today was the first time she had seen any.

  She tried not to stare. She noticed Oswald walking up onto the stage. The squawks and grunts from the audience died down as Oswald took the microphone. His pink suit shone in the spotlight.

  “Good evening, ladies, gentleman, and others. It is wonderful to see such a marvelous turnout tonight. But you don’t want to listen to me, though I have been told that I have the most remarkable pitch, but we shall save that delight for a future celebration. So now, without further ado, may I present to you the fabulous Demonica and the Screaming Foxes!”

  The sound of the crowd was deafening as four silver foxes darted up the aisles. They positioned themselves on the stage and, in a twirl of rainbow hues, they morphed into their human forms. Each had an instrument—lead guitar, bass guitar, drums, and keyboard. The music pounded from their instruments, a beat throbbing through the whole theatre. Miri wondered how Oswald’s magical wards could possibly keep this sound hidden. It felt like it should be resonating throughout the park, if not the whole of Manhattan.

  Suddenly there was utter silence, and then a scream rang out from the back of the auditorium. A jet black fox leaped through the aisles; her voice penetrated the souls of all who heard it! In the middle of the stage, she shimmered and seemed to explode and in her place was Demonica. The crowd went crazy and the music started up again, even more intoxicating that before as the voice of Demonica was added to the sound of the foxes’ instruments.

  Miri had to admit that they were actually pretty good. She’d never been to a rock concert before, but imagined that this experience was not that much different than if she’d been a regular teen seeing a regular band. The special effects were pretty cool—real magic ensures that—and the songs had a beat that filled her with promise. Miri lost herself in the music, and embraced the emotions that were ra
ging through the theatre, sampling, enhancing, and sending them back into the crowd.

  About an hour into the show, Demonica invited Danny onto the stage. He seemed so natural up there and Miri was enchanted. Danny’s music always brought her to a special place. Today she closed her eyes and let his harmonies wash through her.

  Yes, she thought, it was going to be all right after all. Danny did love her. She could sense his passion in the emotions that were pouring towards her as he appeared to sing to the packed auditorium, but actually was only singing to her.

  She sat there mesmerized. All around her in the amphitheater, the crowd was losing itself in the music, and then suddenly it was all over. The band performed its final encore and Danny threaded his way through the crowd, back to her. They walked slowly together, saying very little aloud, his hand linked with hers. Just before they reached the oak tree, Danny took Miri off to one side and kissed her tenderly.

  “I love you, Miri,” he said.

  The next day was Sunday. Miri met Danny in the dining room at breakfast. Demonica and the other foxes were apparently still sleeping after the previous night’s concert and after-concert party.

  “I’m thinking of going back to the Lower East Side,” said Miri. “Maybe I can talk to the old lady who gave me the book.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” asked Danny.

  Miri started to say no, she wanted to do this on her own, but then, looking at Danny’s concerned green eyes, she changed her mind. Why not, she thought, at least he wanted to spend time with her now that Demonica wasn’t around.

  They took the subway down to the Lower East Side. Danny and Miri walked hand in hand down the street, gazing in the shop windows.

  “You know my mother used to live in New York,” said Danny, “before I was born. She doesn’t talk about it much, but I think she liked it here. She certainly did when she visited.”