The Magic

by Donna Augustine

  It had been the crying! Dax, who could do it all, cracked under crying. He should consider himself lucky. If it weren’t such an embarrassing tactic, I would’ve run with it.

  “There’s something else.”

  Here it came. He was going to give me a laundry list of all the stuff I wasn’t supposed to do and blah, blah, blah.

  Why was he staring at my stomach like that? I crossed my arms in front of myself, feeling awkward.

  “Are you getting enough food to eat?” he asked. This wasn’t the conversation I’d been expecting.

  “Dax, you see me eat. Does it look like I’m not getting enough?” Just this morning, I’d had to try and position my body strategically so that the people passing by couldn’t see how much I actually put down. It was partially Fudge’s fault today, as she seemed to believe the best thing to do to fix me was to feed me silly. Of course, I would never say no.

  “The butcher says he’s missing birds.”

  I scratched my head and let my jaw go slack. “Really? Do you think foxes are getting in here?”

  “Why are you stealing dead birds?” he asked, ignoring my feigned surprise.

  Maybe I should say I was eating them. I weighed whether eating a raw stolen rooster—I didn’t cook, so obviously they’d be raw—was more or less embarrassing than the truth. It was a close call, but the truth won out. “I might have buried them. You know, to see if I could bring them back to life.”

  Maybe it wasn’t so embarrassing after all, considering the fact that he looked like he was considering it and what Zarrod had told me.

  “Did it work?” he asked.

  I shook my head and tried to not let my utter dejection over not being able to raise roosters from the dead leak into my features. It would’ve been mighty cool to say it had.

  “Are you done with this or should I tell him you’ll be needing more?” he asked, without any mockery in his voice.

  My insides turned a little gooey as I thought of him giving me dead birds so I could keep trying. No wonder I’d fallen in love with him. How could I not? “I’m done. Zarrod’s been using my magic to find the other places that are like the one where I buried Bookie, but I haven’t been able to do it.”

  “I’ll smooth it over with the butcher.”

  I’d seen Dax smooth things over. I kind of wanted to watch him go tell the butcher to “Cut the shit and get over it,” but it might look petty if I stood there.

  He pointed toward the head gardener, who was huffing his way across the lawn.

  “Do I need to smooth it over with him while I’m at it?”

  I crossed my arms as I watched the gardener give me an evil eye before continuing on his way. “Nah. I’ve got him under control. I tried to explain he wasn’t doing the planting correctly, and he got a bit sensitive about the whole thing.”

  Dax laughed. “I’m glad you have a handle on it.”

  “I do. He said he was going to take some time off, since I knew what I was doing.”

  “Really?”

  To look at the gardener, it was understandable why Dax would be surprised. “I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist of it. He knows I’m right, though. I moved the eggplants over there, and look how much better they’re doing.” I pointed about a hundred yards in the distance, where a small clump of plants grew by themselves. “They’ve got new flowers blooming, and it’s nearly the end of the season. I might not always know where to bury birds, but I’m great with plants.”

  As we stood there, people looked like they were getting ready to quit working for the day and retire to their cottages, the beasts gathering around their tents. This place was home to so many people, and we were on the verge of losing it.

  “I love this place,” I said after a while. “I love how the air smells of tomatoes when the breeze blows the right way, and how the red of the big barn looks against the impossibly green grass, and the sound of the stream running through the field on the south. I even like the damn cliff on the west side.”

  He nodded, and I knew that he might be the one person that loved this farm more than me. The other people here didn’t appreciate it. They hadn’t grown up surrounded by cement or had to protect it year after year.

  I watched as Tiffy ran across the lawn, playing with some of the other kids. “Even if we manage to kill Zarrod, what if they still come here like he said they would?”

  “What do you want to do? You want to run?” he asked as we stood there together. It might have all been in my head, but I got the sense he wasn’t just asking about the farm.

  “I think I’m done running.”

  His eyes scanned my face as if measuring my determination before he spoke. “Then we defend what’s ours.”

  Ours. I liked that.

  Chapter 32

  I heard the yelling first. Arguments weren’t that uncommon around here, and usually settled pretty quickly. They had to be when you knew there was nowhere else safe to live in the vicinity. I wouldn’t have been alarmed if it had been anyone else’s voice raised. But it was Bart’s distinctive accent.

  The day of reckoning looked like it was arriving early. Or the first day of reckoning? Could you have two days of reckoning? Didn’t have time to decide now as I dropped my gardening shovel and broke into a run.

  I turned the corner of the house and saw it wasn’t too late…yet. Bart’s chest was puffed up, and, of all people, scrawny Dodger was getting in his face. Even when Bart wasn’t in beast form, he was twice the size of Dodger. Did the idiot want his nose rearranged?

  I had to start weaving in between the nosy bodies that were forming a large circle around the two.

  Bart took a step back. You go, beast boy! He was trying to do the right thing, and I could see the strain it was causing. It was going to be okay, though. He wasn’t going to turn.

  I nudged another big guy out of the way, and by time he moved, it was too late. Dodger was pushing Bart with both his hands. Or he tried to push him. Bart didn’t move from his spot, but it was game over. Bart’s clothing started ripping at the seams as he grew a few feet taller and another foot wider. Muscles bulged and were quickly covered with fur. Bart’s claws flexed, the fur on his hackles rose, and his eyes were glowing an unearthly red. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

  The place went crazy. It sounded like every person in the area started screaming at the same time as Bart took a single step toward Dodger. In his panic to get away, he tripped and fell on his ass.

  I leapt the last distance between them and me, knowing that if Bart killed Dodger, there was no going back. There would be no explanations that the people on the farm would listen to if one of the beasts killed one of their own. They wouldn’t care about a plan, or that getting rid of these men would likely be the end of us as well. It would be a witch trial.

  I hit the ground and rolled to my feet in between the two of them, Bart’s claws, which were poised to rip Dodger apart, now hovering over me. One swipe and those things would leave my intestines hanging out of my body.

  “Get up and get out of here,” I told Dodger, my back to him as I stood slowly, facing off with the beast. Bart growled low, proving that the beasts knew what we were saying even in this form.

  I waited, listening for Dodger to move, and heard nothing. I didn’t dare risk a look back. I had about as much control over this situation as I had over a hurricane blowing through.

  “Dodger,” I said, trying to mimic the tone Dax used when he was at the end of his patience and wouldn’t be questioned. “Get up. Now. And get out of sight.”

  Bart growled again, a lower tone this time. I heard Dodger moving behind me, and Bart stepped to the right. I mirrored him. His red eyes focused back on me, his head moved down, his lips curled back, and his fangs were inches from me. Then he let out a growl so loud that the hair around my face flew back.

  I didn’t budge as I waited for what might come next, my hand now securely wrapped around my knife.

  Face to face, as I waited for him to
take one of his claws and rip my throat.

  Could I take a beast down? I didn’t really want to kill Lucy’s boyfriend, but I would.

  The beast straightened as I kept my ground. I’d die fighting before I gave an inch. He growled a couple more times and then I did the same, probably sounding ridiculous.

  The moment he took the step back, I knew I’d won. I watched as he took off and saw as he flew over the gate that was nearly ten feet high now.

  My shoulders sagged in relief, and then I took a look around and realized the place was empty. I hoped they were staring out their windows at least, because that had been a pretty kick-ass showdown, and it would suck to think no one had witnessed it to sing my praises at later campfires.

  Then I saw Bookie doing a mad dash toward me across the lawn.

  “Holy shit!” he said, and then bent over at the waist to catch his breath before he could continue. “He might’ve killed you!”

  “Oh, Bookie, this could get ugly.”

  * * *

  I heard the truck pulling up as I sat on the front porch. I hadn’t known Dax had a truck until this morning, when he left in it. The back was heaped with more wire, and I could see the barrels of guns sticking up.

  He stopped the truck not far from the house and got out, calling to the man in the passenger seat to put it in the barn.

  “How did it go?” I asked as he walked over.

  He stopped short of climbing the stairs. “Where is everyone?”

  “They’re hiding.” I couldn’t take it anymore. After resisting for months, I bit my pinky nail. It was small. It shouldn’t count anyway. Everyone knew pinkies were nearly useless.

  “Did you do something?”

  “No. I helped. It would’ve been way worse if I hadn’t been there and Bart had eaten Dodger. Or killed him. Not sure what the end goal was, but I broke it up.”

  Bookie pushed open the front door and handed me a jerky. I took it, since it was much better than chewing on nails.

  Bookie turned to Dax. “You heard?”

  Dax kept looking back at the emptiness of the farm. It had gone from bustling with activity to a deathly quiet ghost town, and a similar stillness, one I was familiar with, settled into his frame. He was about to dig in to a position. I was going to need more jerky if this was going to go down tonight.

  The stillness broke like a rogue wave. “Go grab a couple of people and get the word out there’s going to be a meeting at eight tonight.”

  Bookie nodded and took off as Dax finally headed up the stairs.

  “You sure?” I said as he stopped beside me.

  “It doesn’t matter, and they’d have to realize that quickly. If we lose the beasts, we’re dead. They don’t get a choice. No one does.”

  “But if they leave…”

  “I can live with them leaving.”

  He reached a finger out and tucked some hair behind my ear. He didn’t touch me in any other way, and he didn’t have to.

  I let out a long sigh and sagged. Had he just said he only cared if I left?

  * * *

  It had taken an hour before most of the people on the farm would leave their homes, and two before it was complete mayhem. You’d think the Newco army was about to march on us with the way these people were running around frantically. Every other conversation was about whether they should be gathering the pitchforks or abandoning the place.

  I might not have been a hundred percent behind bringing the beasts here, but I’d be leading the defense if they tried to chase out all the newcomers with pitchforks. I knew how it felt to get run off.

  I sipped some after-dinner tea and scanned the crowd, and spotted a handful of beast men on the fringes. Bart was surrounded by other ones who hadn’t outed themselves. But the majority of them weren’t here, and the ones who’d stayed were being isolated.

  A movement heading in a determined pace toward the group of beast men caught my eye. Oh no, it was Lucy.

  She grabbed Bart by the arm and dragged him away from his group. Looked like Bart’s furry self had indeed been news to her. Had to give her credit. She didn’t seem even a little worried that she was getting up in the face of a beast.

  From where I leaned against the side of the house, it looked like she was saying about fifty words to his one. Now Bart was the one pulling her farther from the group. Lucy was clearly distraught, and Bart couldn’t speak quickly enough to make a dent.

  Suddenly, he dropped to his knees—no, knee. Oh no he was not. I watched as he took her hand and suddenly, instead of railing at him, she was dropping down, and… Was she trying to tackle him? No, she was hugging him. Unless I was mistaken, Lucy had just gotten engaged. It read just like out of one of my books—if the men were furry beasts and the women had been crazy, that is.

  Heavy steps hit the wooden porch, and I stayed in my shaded corner as Dax stepped forward. Had he ever asked anyone to marry him? Was he the type? Had he ever been? And why was I even thinking of this? This love stuff was really messing with my brain.

  Dax cleared his throat and the crowd fell silent.

  “You’ve all heard the rumblings and the rumors; you’ve all seen the Newco guards coming through and searching the area. You know we’ve been strengthening our defenses. There’s a very good chance that the Newco army might end up at our gates. If we want a chance to keep this place from being destroyed, we need the men that have been coming here. They’ve pledged to help us.”

  Just as I started to think Dax was being more diplomatic than I’d ever seen him, he continued, “They also happen to be beasts, as am I. We won’t eat you, and if you don’t like it, you can leave.”

  He stood there, feet braced apart, and waited for someone to challenge him, so typically Dax. He was unapologetically him, another reason I loved him.

  Meanwhile, I was tiptoeing around, pretending I wasn’t in the same room with him. Why? So that no one knew I was having sex? Really good sex, too. When did I start letting other people’s thoughts affect what I did and who I cared about?

  “No one has anything to say?” he shouted at the crowd, daring someone to say something about what he did on his farm.

  I stepped forward. “I have something I want to say.”

  Dax turned to where I was stepping out of the shadows and walking over to the porch.

  I saw the surprise in his eyes as I stepped up the stairs and he wondered what I was about. He took a step back, looking as curious as the crowd did to hear what I’d come to say.

  “I don’t think I’m done running. I know I’m done. From here and from you,” I said, and then turned to the crowd before I lost my nerve or he could respond.

  Shoulders back, I said as loud as I could without screaming, “I’ve been sleeping in Dax’s room.”

  I waited for the gasps. All I saw were a couple people nudging the person next to them with confused expressions. Obviously, I was going to have to spell it out.

  “And we have sex, a lot of it, and it’s good.”

  I looked at the crowd, now staring intently at me and not looking even mildly bored, but riveted on what I might say next. What did they want? I wasn’t giving them a play-by-play of it.

  I heard Dax step next to me. “Are you done, or was there something else you wanted to add?” he asked, sounding strange.

  When I saw his face, I could see he was fighting back a smile, and my eyes started to burn. I’d declared myself and he wanted to laugh? Why had I done that? I’d known he would never want to really be with me. How could he?

  “This isn’t funny,” I said, and turned to go in the house before I started crying again. What was wrong with me? I’d never had so many unwanted emotions in my life.

  I heard Dax say the meeting was over, and whoever wanted to leave could get out before the back door finished slamming.

  The front door squeaked open again as I was standing in the upstairs hallway, trying to figure out where to go. I couldn’t go to my room because it was his room. No other choice: I shot
into the bathroom and locked the door.

  I sat on the floor as I breathed deeply. It didn’t matter if I’d just utterly humiliated myself. We’d probably all be dead soon anyway. A moan leaked out of me as I realized I was in a sorry state if that was the upside.

  And I was not going to cry again. I heard the locked door I was hiding behind rattle and then Dax’s voice. “Dal, let me in.”

  “I’m getting in the shower,” I said, and then leaned forward and started the water. I was going to waste my ration, but it was what it was.

  I sat back down, my head on my knees, and then heard the handle jiggle for a moment, and the door opened. Goddamn lock was useless.

  I sprang up from the floor like I was just about to get undressed and hadn’t been sitting there—even thought he’d caught me sitting there.

  He walked over, turned off the water, and then lifted me off my feet.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he carried me out of the bathroom and I stared at his neck instead of his face.

  “Taking you to our room because you just told me you weren’t going anywhere.”

  I didn’t say anything. What could I say? I was reconsidering since he thought it was so funny? He set me on the bed and then sat on his haunches in front of me while I looked down at really interesting fingernails.

  “Do you remember the night I broke you out of the Cement Giant?”

  “Of course I do.” Damn, that was a fascinating thumb I had.

  “Dal, look at me.”

  He lifted my chin when I delayed. He wasn’t looking at me like I’d feared, with icy coldness, pity, or laughter. There was only heat.

  “That night, you passed out from pain, and yet the second I undid you from that chair, you ran for the window and leapt out.”

  “Can we reminisce tomorrow? I’m really tired,” I said, and would’ve climbed back on the bed if his hands hadn’t gone to my hips, holding me there.

  “No, hear me out. That night, the only thing that stopped you was the loyalty you felt for your friends. I didn’t know it then, but I think that I started to fall in love with you all the way back to that moment.”