He gulped, and nodded. "Sorry, lead on, please."
She relaxed a little. It wasn't his fault he was so ill informed. But if she ever met the people who'd raised him...well they were going to get a piece of her mind.
Chapter 4
When he'd set off to find the items on his grandfather's list, the last thing he'd expected was to be following a partially shifted beithir around dingy corridors under a school. And yet...here he was. Mostly being very glad she was eighteen, as his gaze kept drifting back to the greenish grey shine of her scales as the light passed over them. It didn't take a genius to work out they were all she was wearing. Even if she hadn't changed form in front of him. She’d given a longing glance towards her folded clothes, then shaken her head before they set off. He didn’t blame her. The scaly skin encasing her body acted as another layer of protection. While he knew she wouldn’t need it from him, she didn’t.
"Are you sure you know where we're going?" he asked.
"Yes."
"How?" It was a little convenient if anyone asked him. He was looking for something, and she just so happened to know where it was? And just so happened to be here at the same time he was? He wasn't a fan of coincidences, and this stunk of one.
Briefly, he wondered if his grandfather had sent her as a way of testing him. But he doubted it. While his grandfather was fine with using other supernatural creatures, other than the aos sìth, he held very little respect for them. Particularly shifters. Izban's grandfather was one of the people that believed the animal side of the brain started to take over. And the more a shifter changed form, the more animal they became. Izban had long since dismissed it as the wrong opinion.
"They gave me a key to use the lab any time I lose my tail. Which happens a lot. I'd be a bad student if I didn't explore at least a little bit."
"Is it not being a bad student to go places when you shouldn't?" he threw back at her, and she chuckled throatily, a small hiss coming out at the end of it. Her voice box wasn't totally human at this point then. Interesting, if completely useless to know.
He wondered if she was poisonous in human form too, though he wasn't in any hurry to figure that one out.
"Isn't it a bad teacher to come to a school just so you can find something you want?"
"Not to a school like this. I'm not sure you can even call it that. A holding place for teenagers, more like."
"It's not that bad," she said defensively, but then went quiet. “Okay, you’re right. I think the only knowledge that will actually help me in real life has come from books. Being taught together with mages and other more magical species isn't a good way to improve your beithir skills.”
She sighed, then quickly changed the topic. "So what are you when you don't pretend to be a teacher?"
"Don't laugh," he warned her, before half-whispering, "A meteorologist."
She snorted. "You're joking, right?"
"I told you not to laugh," he complained, but there was a trace of humour in his voice. He got that reaction a lot. But his affinity with the weather had made his career choice an easy one. He had always liked being out and about, learning about weather phenomenon and exploring other countries in the process. Last year, he'd been on a research trip to the Arctic. That's where he learned that he was different from other humans, not just because of his magic. He didn't have any problem with staying in such a cold place. In fact, he felt better there than he ever had in the temperate climates he'd grown up in. He spent as much time as possible outside the research station, much to the worry of his supervisor. Walking through snow made him feel more alive than ever before. It was heartbreaking when he had to leave and return to the UK. Everything felt too warm here, despite other people complaining about the cold.
This winter, he was going to return to the Arctic. Doing these jobs for his grandfather would ensure that he could afford it. And he'd met her in the process. He really shouldn't complain.
"Is it much further?" he asked, trying to stop her laughing. Come on, him being a meteorologist wasn't that strange. Her walking around with only half a tail was much more unusual. But he was wise enough not to say that. Her teeth had looked incredibly dangerous. Being bitten by a beithir was not on his agenda.
"Just around the corner."
He followed the scaled girl to the end of the corridor where she turned sharp left. There were five doors and she chose the second. He'd never have found this place. What luck it had been to run into her.
She went into the room first, switching on the lights. Magical ones, of course, there was no electricity in this old part of the building.
He sighed as he took in the chaos in front of him. It looked like someone had discarded all of his artefacts and magical equipment and thrown it carelessly into this room. There were hundreds of boxes of all sizes, some of them open and spilling their contents, some locked with heavy chains. The shelves lining the walls were not much tidier; in fact, Izban doubted that even the owner of this room would ever find anything important in here.
This was like finding a needle in a haystack. Except that a haystack was a lot safer than a room full of magical items that might fight back.
"Are you sure the ruby is in here?" he asked his guide, resigned to spending several days in there, combing through all the boxes.
"Of course. Can't you smell it?"
He frowned at her. "Smell it? Since when do gemstones smell?"
She chuckled. "Not the ruby, silly. The incubus."
"How do you know what an incubus scent is like? Have you met many of them?"
She seemed far too innocent for that. She may even still be a virgin, growing up in a place so far away from any decent civilisation. Poor girl, she was not going to be prepared for the real world when she left Ben Vair.
"Of course. My godfather is one."
"Your..." he spluttered. "And you're okay with that?"
She laughed lightly. "Don't be so prejudiced. They are people like you and me, and most can control their urges. Or live them out in a way that doesn't hurt anybody."
"But... I'm not sure I'd want an incubus around my children."
She laughed again. "Wait until you meet him. Then you might think differently."
What did she mean by that? What were the chances of him meeting her godfather? She was just helping him find that ruby, right? And then expected him to leave and never meet again?
Or was she looking for more?
She moved around the room, sniffing the air while carefully stepping over boxes. "It's not far, I've smelled it before.”
"Do I even want to know?" he asked, grimacing slightly. Incubi were an interesting species for him to wrap his head around. He'd only ever heard tales of what they could achieve, but even they terrified him. The loss of control, and the influence they could have...just no.
"They go for a lot of money, and Uncle Morris was a little short, so he made one."
"Morris?" That wasn't a name he'd imagine an incubus having.
"Yes, Uncle Morris. He met my Dad when they competed against each other in some sort of supernatural Olympics for teenagers."
"What a mouthful," Izban muttered.
"Quite. Now shhh please while I try and find the ruby."
He watched as she sniffed the air, her stub of a tail waggling slightly as she did. She was probably trying to use it for balance as a reflex. The image tugged on something inside him. She couldn't be comfortable tail-less. It was likely what losing a hand or foot would feel like to him.
"How often do they take your tail?" he asked despite himself, drawing a dirty look from the beithir.
She chose to ignore him and wandered further into the cluttered room, heading towards a large standing cupboard with a large amount of surety.
Cocking her head to the side, she twisted the handle and threw the doors open, revealing shelves laden with glittering jewels of all colours, shapes and sizes.
It was a pirates dream. Shame he wasn't one.
"They keep these beneath a scho
ol?"
"Where else would they keep them? No one really knows they're here." She searched through the cupboard, picking up the odd gem and examining it, before replacing it with a dissatisfied sigh.
"You do."
"Because I can smell them," she pointed out, this time choosing a small oval stone and lifting it to her nose.
"And the others can't?"
"Likely not. A beithir's sense of smell is one of the best in the world. Plus, they'd have to know what they were smelling, and as far as I know, there's no incubi or succubi here to recognise it."
"I'm sure someone else probably could." Other people knew how the demon spawned races smelled, surely?
"Maybe, but they'd still need to be down here in the first place, and I certainly haven't seen any crowds."
"Well no..." he trailed off, already hating how wrong she was proving him. She was certainly a bright woman. As well as powerful, a deadly combination if ever he knew one.
And that was before anyone got to the poisonous teeth. They'd make all the difference in a fight.
"There you go then, perfect place to hide priceless artefacts." She replaced the small red stone, and picked up a bigger one, set into a gold chain with filigree edges. He wrinkled his nose at the garishness of the setting.
"Is that it?"
She nodded. "Yes, definitely it."
"Does it have to come set like that?"
A chuckle ending in a slight hiss drew his attention to her face. She was smiling, clearly at ease with him now. "Of course not, it's the ruby you want, not the necklace, but do you really have time to pry it out and make it different?" He shook his head. "Thought not."
"Thank you, Amber," he said, pocketing the stone, his hand brushing over his grandfather's list.
"You're welcome. It's not like it was doing anything sat in a cupboard down here. What do you need it for anyway?"
"I wish I knew," he replied. He sighed, pushing his hand over his face and messing up his hair. It was a good thing he wasn't overly conscious of his appearance, unless he counted wanting blue hair and a multitude of piercings, otherwise the gesture would have been far more frustrating.
"You've broken into a school and pretended to be a teacher for something you don't even know why you want?" Her voice lifted at the end, conveying her confusion. He couldn't blame her, he'd been confused ever since his grandfather had first given him the list.
"It's important."
"I'd hope so. I wouldn't like to think what the Headmistress would do to you if she found out. She likes to spit fire on a good day."
"That wouldn't be a problem," he responded, thinking of his own powers. Fire was unlikely to hurt him. And even if it did, he knew enough healing spells to be alright.
"If you say so, still wouldn't risk it for something I'm clueless about."
"I have a list," he admitted, annoyed with himself for caving to her so easily. But her curiosity was contagious, and he found himself wondering about the list for what was probably the first time. He should have asked his grandfather about it. That was his right as heir. And yet, he'd just been a good grandchild and done what he was told. Like he always had. And probably always would. Tradition went a long way for mages.
He studied Amber from the corner of his eye. She didn't look quite as young and innocent in this light as she had during their lesson on storms. Here, she looked like the dangerous creature she was. Maybe it was just because he'd seen her in her animal form. But he doubted it.
"Why were you down here?" he finally thought to ask.
"Regrowing my tail." She shrugged and closed the doors of the cupboard. She sauntered away from him, heading back towards the door they'd entered, so he had no chance to follow.
"That works?" He was surprised. Surely it wasn't as straightforward as that.
"No. I forgo sleep, and come hang out in the creepiest part of the school, just for fun," she snapped. "Sorry, I'm just grumpy. It's not exactly fun losing a tail." Her tone was softer, and her apology seemed genuine.
"No, I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me." She nodded, not arguing back, and while he hated that, he knew she was in the right. "Is this really the creepiest part of the school?" He was proud of himself for deflecting with a change of subject, but regretted it when a slightly wicked smile crossed her lips.
"Probably not, no."
"What is?" he asked eagerly.
"Want me to show you?" she teased.
"Yes."
"Then follow this way.”
Chapter 5
"You know this building wasn't always used as a school?" she asked as they walked deeper into the catacombs. She'd explored them when she first came to the college. She may have used regrowing her tail as an excuse to justify her exploration to Izban, but in truth she was simply curious. Living in a place that she hadn't completely searched for anything interesting was no fun. So she'd spent dozens of nights walking through the endless tunnels beneath the school, enjoying the atmosphere of mystery and the forbidden. Strangely enough, there were few warded doors; the teachers probably thought that nobody would be interested in wandering so far into the maze of corridors. Luckily, Amber had an excellent sense of direction and only got lost a few times. And while her magic wasn't strong at all, she was able to summon a light bright enough to find her way. That wasn't to say that she hadn't occasionally stumbled on the uneven floor. Once she even broke through a decayed wooden trapdoor into a hidden chamber beneath. And that was exactly where she was leading Izban now.
"What was it before?" he asked as he followed her closely behind. She could almost feel his breath on her neck.
"It was used by the Shifter Government at some point, but before that, it was a prison. Do you believe in ghosts?"
He chuckled. "Not really, although some of your teachers might pass as one."
"Then let me change your mind."
They'd reached a small door, not much wider than Amber. It was going to be a slight squeeze for Izban. She still didn't know why anyone would build such a tiny door. It didn't make sense - but then, not a lot in this place made sense.
"Try not to offend her," she whispered and opened the door, revealing a dusty chamber that was likely host to a few hundred spiders. In the middle of the room was a large square hole in the floor; the place where the trapdoor had been before Amber had broken it.
"Bea? Are you there? I brought a visitor!" she called, peering down into the darkness beneath them. She'd only been in there once before and wasn't planning on repeating that experience. Bea didn't like people seeing her down there either. She preferred to come upstairs to welcome her one and only visitor - Amber.
Izban shrieked as Bea shimmered into being and Amber had a hard time stifling her snicker. He was pretending to be so strong and brave, but confront him with the ghost of a 17th century woman and he freaked out.
"What is she?" he shouted and the woman tsked.
"Don't you know it's impolite not to address the ghost in question?" Bea asked, adjusting her bonnet. She was in her fifties, an old age back in the times she lived in.
"S...Sorry," Izban stammered. "What are you?"
Bea chuckled and turned to Amber, who was watching the exchange with a wide smile on her lips. "Is he always this slow?"
"I wouldn't know, I only met him today."
"Well, he doesn't seem very bright. You may want to think about it before you start a relationship with him. I know how overwhelming young love can be."
Amber blushed and turned to hide her reddening cheeks. "You're daft, Bea. Now tell him what he wants to know."
The old ghost tsked again, then sat down in the air, crossing her legs until it looked like she was meditating.
"I'm dead, dear boy, and I've been a ghost for about three hundred years now. They let me starve in here, thinking I was a witch. Well, I wasn't, but my cellmate was. With her last breath, she wished that I would live - and she got her wish, even though it was not as she intended." She paused, seemingly lost in thought, unti
l her eyes cleared and she began to stare at Izban.
"Is blue hair the fashion nowadays? I don't get out much, I don't like leaving my body behind."
Izban looked like he was tempted to look down into the chamber beyond the trapdoor, but Amber shook her head. The skeletons in there were not a pretty sight, nibbled on by generations of rats.
"I like it," he said defensively and the old woman chuckled.
"Oh, me too. I would get my hair dyed, if I could, but alas, it's destined to stay white, just like the rest of me. But Amber, darling, you've not come down here in a while. Tell me the latest gossip, will you, dear?"
"There's not much to tell you, Bea," she said, studying her clawed fingertips intensely.
"Really? Then how come you're stood here in your scales and not one of those gods awful baggy shirts you normally do?"
Amber shuffled from side to side, not sure what about this was making her so uncomfortable. It wasn't like Izban hadn't seen her in her normal clothes, it was what she wore to school every day. But something about it being brought up made her feel odd.
"I do that for my tail," she pointed out.
"Which you seem to have lost again." Bea didn't seem particularly concerned by that, nor surprised in the slightly.
Amber hissed.
"Don't hiss at me, young lady, it's not my fault you haven't given them a little nip and taught them not to mess with you," Bea scolded.
"You know I can't do that," she protested.
"Why not?" Both women's heads turned to the side in shock. Amber had almost forgotten Izban was in the room with them, and Bea seemed to have done the same.
"It could kill them," Amber admitted softly. "I may not want them ripping off my tail, but I also don't want them dead. It's terribly bad luck."
Izban chuckled softly.
"Ripping off your tail would be their bad luck if you bit them."
Bea's tinkling laugh filled the room. "I change my mind. Keep this one, Amber."
"He's not mine to keep," she muttered, her cheek flushing as she spoke. It wasn't even appropriate for Bea to suggest that. Not when he was her teacher. Except...no, he wasn't her teacher, he'd just been pretending. That opened a whole new level of complications.
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