by D. R. Perry
“Just one of them.” Hopefully, she’d leave it at that.
“Do you get invited to their parties or anything?” Her interest seemed shady. Either that or the Harcourts were a bigger deal than I'd thought.
“No.” I sighed through a clenched jaw. “Look, we’re getting off the subject here.”
“Okay, so how do you think this information about the pelt will help?” Beth chewed her bottom lip. “Nox still undid what she undid and everything, so she will get punished, regardless.”
“Right, but it might be just a slap on the wrist if we can find that dead Selkie’s pelt and turn it over.”
“True.” Kimiko nodded. “It’d be a fair exchange, one enchantment for another. Seelie law is all about balance.”
“So what kind of thing might she ask for if we don’t get the pelt, then?”
“Why’s that so important to you?” Kimiko looked down her nose at me.
“Because I think Nox and I are mates.” I might have answered Kimiko’s question, but I directed my answer at Beth.
“I understand.” Beth nodded. “You want to protect her as much as you can. If the Queen suspects Nox of hiding a Selkie pelt, she’ll want a Kelpie pelt in return.”
“I also can’t stand the idea of her giving up a part of herself because she saved my Beta’s unlife.” I told them both the story. Kimiko hadn’t been around, and Beth had acted more dead than Henry until today.
“Wow. I didn’t know that’s why she did it.” Kimiko grinned a little, losing the bratty veneer. She looked troubled, maybe even a little sad. “Huh.”
“So, what did they do to look for the pelt?” Beth had her phone out, swiping and tapping.
“Just about everything you can think of. They even had Maddie’s dad out here scrying.” I shook my head. “Human and Extrahuman effort for almost a year, all focused on finding an unattached Selkie pelt.”
“Would it have degraded by now, though?” Beth gave me a wan smile. “I feel out of my depth on this. Got no idea how the magic pelts work.”
“Well, they’re all aligned with water. That’s why they’re stored in oilcloth. If they dry completely out, they’re toast.” The facts rolled out of Kimiko’s brain like they usually did for Lynn Frampton. She ignored the woman dabbing gold paint on her toenails. “Kelpie pelts need to be in fresh water, and Selkie pelts need salt. That bridge was over salt water, so if it fell in, it’d be okay.”
“It was, was it?” Something bothered me about Kimiko’s little speech, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Hey, what if the reason no one’s been able to find the damn thing is because someone picked it up and put it on?”
“Huh.” Beth chewed on that for a minute. “That’d explain why they couldn’t find it. Well one of the possible reasons, anyway.”
“What other reason can you think of?” It was my turn to scratch my head. I was stumped. That was the reason I had super-geniuses in my pack, after all.
“Theft!” Kimiko’s outburst smacked of nervousness. “Either kind of pelt is super valuable like I said. Dragon hoard valuable, even. Isn’t that bridge near Newport?”
“It is. But I don’t think Blaine would have…I mean, he’s not my favorite person in the world, but he’s no thief.”
“But what about his parents?” Kimiko twirled her hair again, looking just about everywhere except at my eyes. “They’re supposed to be big-time opportunists, especially his step-dad. Did they help in the search?”
“Dunno. Have to look at the records again.” I wondered if Kimiko was fishing for information about the Harcourts or deliberately misinforming me. “But value aside, they’re awfully hidebound to do something that, well, underhanded. Hoards are full of trophies. If there isn’t some kind of conquest or right of possession behind an item, dragons aren’t all that interested in it.”
“You’re right.” Beth scratched her head. “What makes more sense is, some regular Joe or Jane picked it up thinking this was their chance to be an Extrahuman.”
“But that’d be so illegal they’d never be able to really benefit from it.”
“Well, what if he or she had nothing much to lose?” Beth sighed. “A Selkie skin would make it easy to live off the grid. For a person running from something, or who thought they had no other choice, it’d be a pretty easy decision to make.”
“Point and match, Beth.” If anyone knew desperation, it was my sister. I looked down to find the nail lady drying my feet with a little towel. My feet looked…decent. They’d spared me the indignity of putting polish on, thank goodness.
I pulled on my socks and laced up my boots. The girls had already waited for their toes to dry. We headed across the street to the cafe where I let Kimiko and Beth gab over quadruple lattes or whatever. Somebody had that pelt. It’d be amazeballs with a side of awesomesauce if I could find them and present them to the Queen before Nox’s trial. Of course, I’d also have to get through an Alpha contest against my uncle. No pressure, right?
Chapter Twelve
Nox
Staying awake in my Local Extrahuman History class was easier today than it had been since the Spring semester started. I had Watkins, of course. He was the only Professor who taught that here except Brodsky. Since it was kind of my fault Watkins got stuck teaching two sections of a Junior level course along with the Freshman level Ecology class he constantly complained about, I’d been determined not to give him any headaches.
“If you can’t get through one of my lectures without double-fisting coffee, you’ll be warming the same seat next semester, Phillips.” Half the heads in the room turned in my direction. Lucky break, I guess.
“Sorry, Professor.” I stifled a yawn and tucked one of the Styrofoam cafeteria cups under my seat.
“So, as I was saying before some genius down at the dining hall led a horse shifter to coffee, the hurricane barrier went up around the time most of your parents were born. What else went up with it?”
“Ooh! I know!” Only one hand shot up front and center in the room. It was pale, long-fingered, and not quite human.
“Does anyone besides Albert have a clue?” Professor Watkins tapped the toe of one wingtip shoe behind his podium.
“Wards.” I yawned. “They went up all along the coast in a great big circle. But they cut off at Tiverton, right in the middle of the Pell Bridge.”
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. It seems Phillips cares more about passing than just about any of you.” Watkins’ smile reminded me of sharks and crocodiles. “So tell me, Phillips, who put those wards up, anyway?”
Unfortunately, I had no clue. I remembered the wards from Tinfoil Hat’s chat the night before, not from the textbook. Sighing, I almost gave up and shook my head until I remembered something Blaine and Henry had mentioned the last week of Intersession. I had a snowball’s chance in hell of being right but would take that over zero chance any day of the week.
“Stanhope. He was an Extramagus, right?”
“Are you right?” The smile on Watkins’ face didn’t budge. “You tell me.”
“Yes.” I nodded with as much confidence as I could muster. “Stanhope. He was an Extramagus. He’s the guy who made the wards.”
“And does anybody know why he didn’t bother with Tiverton?” Watkins turned away, pacing along the front of the lecture hall in search of his next victim. I sighed into my coffee, relieved I’d been correct.
About halfway between my back-row seat and Albert down in front, a woman nearly as pale as he was stood up. Olivia the amazing diurnal owl shifter. Her birdlike frame was emphasized by the feathery layers of nearly white hair on her head. Leave it to a bookworm bird shifter to be blessed with the ghost of Farrah Fawcett’s best hair days.
“Adler. Tell all the people who didn’t bother with the assigned reading why Stanhope refused to ward Tiverton.”
“Because back then, the biggest community of Unseelies in Rhode Island lived over there, and he was trying to curry favor with the Queen.” She shifted her w
eight from one foot to the other. “Sir.”
“And she remembered to call me sir, which is more than the rest of you louts bother with.” Watkins clapped slowly. “I’ll let all you slackers go as long as you remember this little tidbit that’s going on next week’s quiz.”
He leaned against the podium, lowering his voice so much everyone stopped packing their things away in order to hear him. “Extramagi are some of the most powerful people in the world. But history tells us all that power’s still never enough for them. They’ll do absolutely anything, even the last thing you’d imagine, in order to get more. Extramagi. Greedy fargin icehole bastiches.” He straightened. “Anyone who emails me with the movie that catch-phrase is from and which character said it gets two extra credit points on the quiz. Now get out of here.”
I gulped down the rest of the coffee in the cup still on the tiny swivel desk in front of me, then reached down and grabbed the still-full cup under my seat. When I sat up again, Olivia stood blinking down at me. It must have been a novel experience for her since the only person in Tinfoil Hat her height was Maddie, and she loved stompy platform boots. Olivia always seemed to wear Converse high-tops or ballet flats. Today, she had on the latter.
I yawned at exactly the same time she did, the drawn-out breaths turning into a chuckle and a giggle, respectively. I tucked the coffee in the crook of one arm, then slung my rucksack over the other shoulder. Before I could move the desk piece, a shadow fell over it. I looked up again.
“Professor Watkins.” I tried not to blink or look away. I knew he was a Psychic but forgot what kind. “Hi.” Ideas about what to say flitted around my head like moths around a porch light.
“Phillips. You and Adler have an interesting collection of information between the two of you.” He stroked his salt and pepper goatee. “Interesting in the Confucian sense.”
“Er. Okay?” I would have made some excuse, cut and run, but I couldn’t get up with Olivia in the way, and Watkins was blocking her.
“Professor, Nox and I have been working with a few other students on some local history since last semester,” Olivia smiled, her big amber eyes blinking periodically as she spoke. “It’s kind of a fun thing we got together and did once we realized a bunch of us aren’t from around here.”
“Ah. You’d better not try to tell me either of you is the ringleader of this little project because I’d sooner buy the Newport Bridge than that idea.”
“No way. It was Blaine Harcourt’s idea originally.” Olivia’s smile faded as Watkins ignored her, keeping his eyes on me.
“I see.” He gave one curt nod. “The textbook’s a little dry for an extracurricular project.” Watkins pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket and the ubiquitous pencil from behind his ear. “Go to the library. Find Taki Waban. Check these books out.” He jotted a list on the paper, graphite scratching in spidery script with no care for the blue lines. “Whatever you do, don’t discuss them around Changelings. Read the one about shifter pack history first.” He tore the paper off the pad, holding it out to me. “And by first, I mean directly. Do not pass the dining hall. Do not collect your lunch.”
“Ooookay?” As soon as my fingers pinched the raggedy top of the list, Watkins let go of it and stalked back to the podium to collect his own things.
Olivia and I got out of there like a couple of bats out of a belfry when the guy at the bottom pulled the rope. We passed the dorm and crossed the street to the library. Olivia headed for the card catalog, but we didn’t find any of the books listed in it. Same results when we tried the computer.
“He said to find Taki Waban.” I glanced around but saw no sign of the old dragon shifter.
“You mean that new librarian?” Olivia shrugged. “Lynn says he knows nothing about the Library of Congress or even the Dewey Decimal system.”
“I don’t think that matters.” I strode away from the computer, heading back toward the staff areas of the library. Behind me, I heard the patter of Olivia’s ballet flats against the hardwood as she jogged to keep up.
At the end of the hall, a counter stood between us and a set of double doors, the kind that swung either way and had little round windows in them at head height for everyone except Gnomes, Sprites, and Olivia. I peered through them, spotting motion way back near a stack of cardboard boxes. I thought I saw a head of black hair streaked with white.
“Mr. Waban?” I called out to him louder than usual library etiquette allowed. I didn’t care. The book Watkins wanted me to read had something to do with wolf shifters. Maybe it could help Josh. I’d gotten him and his family into who knows what kind of trouble. I’d do anything I could to get them out of it. Apparently even risking the wrath of a dragon older than Blaine’s mother, who’d come here with the Vikings.
“Miss Phillips. Miss Adler.” The unassuming man pushed through the door, stepping up to the counter. “It seems Professor Watkins owes me fifty dollars. When he phoned, he told me to expect you at least half an hour from now.”
“Well, he told us it was an emergency.”
“He said no such thing to me.” One corner of Mr. Waban’s mouth tilted up in a half-grin. “However, he did go on for longer than I’d like about how none of his students know how to follow directions. So, it’s an emergency now, is it?”
“Um.” I’d blustered myself into a corner again. This seemed to be my new default mode since meeting Josh. I had the idea it didn’t look good on me.
“Here, Mr. Waban.” Olivia came to the rescue again, plucking the book list from my hand and passing it to the quasi-librarian. If only she didn’t turn into a medically induced pumpkin at eight-thirty on the dot every night, she’d be a great person to have around through all this mess.
“Hmm. I’ve got two of these.” Mr. Waban raised one eyebrow.
“Please tell me one is the shifter pack history book?” I put my now empty hands flat against the countertop.
“It is.” He tilted his head. “But these books are part of my personal collection. They’re not library copies. I could lend it to you, but I’d prefer it not leave campus.”
“No problem. I’d prefer not to leave campus myself.” I grinned.
“Excellent. Here you are.” Mr. Waban pulled two books out from behind the counter, placing them between my hands. Both were bound in worn leather, wrapped around and tied with strong rawhide cord. They looked more like personal journals or a collection of research papers than anything published on a printing press.
“Thank you. I promise to have them back as soon as we’re done.” I picked the volumes up gently, tucking them together in the inside pocket of my jacket. Then, I turned and headed down the hallway.
“Very good.” I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of his voice. His face was inscrutable, almost like a mask under a sheet of ice. “Please give Mr. Dennison my regards.”
I just nodded, heading out into the cold bright sunlight of the winter midday. Then, I checked the time, realizing I had to meet Jeannie so I could get the keys to her room. I crossed the street to the dorm, almost forgetting Olivia was still following me.
“Go get lunch, my friend.” After turning, I paused. “I’m room-sitting, remember? I have stuff to do in there.”
“You catching a nap?” She blinked. If Olivia thought I needed one, I probably could use a full eight hours.
“Hopefully. After I talk to Jeannie.”
“Okay, see you later.” She opened the door for me, then trotted off toward the dining hall.
I stepped into the lobby. Jeannie came out from around the corner, beckoning to me. I followed her all the way down the hall to room 111. She opened the door to find a tidy single room. The bed had been stripped, but fresh linens were folded in a stack at its foot. The desk was clear, too. Jeannie yanked on the long handle of a suitcase with wheels, dragging it to the door. She handed me two keys on a ring with a tag that said I Love Boston. I’d almost forgotten that’s where she was from.
“Thanks so much again, Jeannie.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Just rest and take care of yourself. I was where you are a long time ago, and someone helped my family and me.” She shrugged. “Least I can do is pay it forward.”
I’d never let anyone call Jeannie La Montagne a Barbie doll in my presence again. After she left, I went to work making the bed, then distributing some of my things around the room to make it more comfortable. I took off my pelt, placing it in the oilcloth. Then, I put that in my rucksack next to the desk. Just as I was about to sprawl out on the bed and crack open the shifter pack book, the buzzer went off. I wasn’t sure how it worked, so I grabbed Jeannie’s keyring and headed down the hall to the front door.
When Josh smiled at me through the wire-crossed glass, I tried not to let my knees knock together. I blinked, trying to remember whether I told him I’d be staying in Jeannie’s room or not. A hot flash of jealous anger surged through my whole body, but I opened the door, anyway. Only the tightening of his jaw gave away the fact my mood was visible. At least I’d put away my pelt. I had a feeling Grandpa might have tried to drown him like he’d done with Tony.
“What’s up, Nox?”
“Huh?” I strode down the hall, letting him follow me. I didn’t want him seeing my face until I knew for sure he hadn’t actually come here to see a busty blond bear shifter instead of me.
“Jeannie better still be letting you use her room, or I’ll shave her head.”
“How did you know?”
“What? That she’s giving you a place to stay?” He stepped up his pace, so we walked side-by-side down the hall. “Olivia ran into me on the way from the dining hall. She thought maybe you’d want to see me.”
“Oh, really?” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. The fire in my belly cooled.
“Yeah, really. I think she’s been reading too many romances lately.” He chuckled. “Thinks she’s a matchmaker or something.”
“I saw a book by Jane Austen in her bag at class today.” I stuck out my tongue.