“You aren’t a monster, trust me. I’ve seen worse things than you.”
“Whatever you used to be, I doubt you looked anything like me,” Nate grunted. With a wide sweep of his arm, he gestured to himself. “I’m hideous.”
“No, you aren’t. Have you noticed that your skin takes on the same hues of whatever tree you are standing in front of? Did you know that you can meld into a tree—become part of it—if you wanted to? And Woodsburls are super strong,” she rattled off information while giving him an encouraging smile. “You’re like the Superman of the forest, Nate.”
Nate grunted and shook his head, obviously not believing her.
“Woodsburl magic is genetic,” she said, thinking aloud. “You just woke up one morning like this?”
He nodded, before grumbling, “I’m adopted, so the genetic thing doesn’t matter. The morning I turned eighteen, I woke up like this. That was two weeks ago.”
“Well then. Whenever we get out of this cave and the storm stops, I’m going to teach you everything I know about magic,” Ronnie promised. “And then, I’ll introduce you to some other Woodsburls that I know. I’m sure they’ll help you. No one should ever have to learn about their magic the way you did. I would have been scared to death if I had woken up that way. I’m sorry it happened to you.”
Nate was shuffling uneasily beside her. He glanced at his barricade at the door, as if looking for branches he could rearrange in order to get away from this uncomfortable conversation.
“I’m going to lie down and try to sleep,” Ronnie said, curling up as close as she dared to the fire. Within seconds, exhaustion took over and she drifted off.
Nate moved closer to her, and she felt him brush a stray strand of hair off her cheek. “Sleep sweet,” he grunted.
That’s funny, she thought groggily. John used to say that.
SHE DREAMT OF John. The dream was so real that she woke up and saw him lying there beside her in the cave, asleep, his face inches from hers.
“Soon, I’ll be with you again,” she whispered, her promise as she reached out and held his hand. His fingers laced with hers and he squeezed them, as if this strange dream had bridged the chasm between them. “I love you,” she heard him whisper.
Wishing what she heard had been real, Ronnie closed her eyes and let the sleep come again. Tomorrow, she promised herself. When we get home, everything will change. John will be mine again.
THE SNOW SPARKLED in the morning sun as if the ground was encrusted with shimmering diamonds.
“It looks enchanted, doesn’t it?” Ronnie smiled as they left the cave.
Nate grunted. Ever since they had woken up, he hadn’t said a word, just gone to the opening of the cave and set to pulling the tree limbs away.
He must not be a morning person, she thought, deciding to ignore him as he stomped around her and shoved a fallen tree limb out of the way, breaking the silence of the forest around them.
“All right, well, I guess we’d best be on our way,” she said, following behind the Woodsburl who seemed to be trying to stomp holes in the ground.
Why on earth is he so angry? This definitely went beyond not doing mornings well. Something wasn’t sitting well with him. She watched as one large hand went up and scrubbed his head—a familiar gesture Ronnie had seen thousands of times on someone else. A memory zipped through her mind, replaying. Another hand—a human hand—that ran through short, blond spikes any time he was frustrated, scrubbing at the top of his head as if he was trying to wipe away the source of his agitation.
That one gesture made everything click into place. The Woodsburl in front of her and her boyfriend were one and the same. Nate was John.
It all made sense and Ronnie found herself nearly giddy with happiness. John had just turned eighteen—two weeks earlier—and that was when he had started acting strangely. He had been adopted as a baby, which would account for his not knowing about magic…and his younger brother had a habit of calling him Nate. All of the pieces of the puzzle had fallen together.
Ronnie stopped walking and stared after him, wondering why it had taken until now to figure it out. Even the set of his shoulders and even the way he walked reminded her of John. Because he is John.
Realizing that she was no longer following him, Nate stopped, and turned to look back at her. “What’s wrong? I thought you were ready to go.”
“I am,” she said, hurrying to catch back up to him. She managed to look at his eyes before he turned away. The same deep, brown eyes that she had fallen in love with were there, and they washed away any lingering bit of doubt. It wasn’t because of my magic, it was because of his. That’s why he broke up with me.
Ronnie stayed quiet for the first half hour, trying to figure out what to do. She couldn’t exactly march up to him and say that she knew who he was—not when he had been carefully hiding it from her all night.
He had stopped as they passed under a giant maple and was putting his hand against the trunk, watching as the gray-green of his skin turned dark, mimicking the exact hues of the tree.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” she said, watching as some of the anger left his eyes to be replaced with wonder. “Out of all the magical creatures, the Woodsburls are the most in-tuned with the forest because they can literally be part of it.”
As they kept walking, Ronnie pointed out other bits of information and showed him a few other things along the way—including a glimpse of a Sasquatch, who was quick to move away from them.
“So what kind of creature is a Chickcharney?” Nate asked.
“A creature who can turn into a giant owl,” she said with a frown.
“I’ll bet you were beautiful,” he said softly. “I’m sorry you gave your magic away.”
So am I, Ronnie agreed silently. If only I had known…
The forest had thinned out as they walked and now the familiar peaks of rooftops came into view. They were almost back.
Nate stopped just before reaching her backyard, and turned to her.
“Ronnie, there is something you need to know,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “I should have told you before now, but I was afraid of what you would think of me. But after what you have given up for me, you deserve to know what I am.” The air shifted, and the scaly creature who had been Nate melted away, leaving a worried-looking John in his place. He stared at the ground, as if he was afraid to look at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should have told you before you gave your magic away.”
Ronnie had no words, so she did the one thing that she could. She ran to him and jumped into his arms, then smothered his face with kisses.
“I should have told you after I found you in the forest the first time,” she heard him say.
“That was you?”
“Yeah, you landed on me,” he managed a wry laugh. “It’s not every day that you try to figure out how to meld into a tree and your girlfriend falls out of the sky and whacks her head into you.”
“So does this mean you are officially un-breaking up with me?” Ronnie asked hopefully. “After all, you have saved me twice. You must care about me a little.”
“I care about you more than just a little. The worst thing I ever did was break up with you,” John said, tracing the line of her cheek with his finger. “And I’d save you a thousand times more, if you’d let me, in order to make up for it.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her lips, then whispered. “I love you, Ronnie. Always and forever.”
Chapter 6
RONNIE WANTED HER magic back. She and John had spent the better part of the week following their return in the forest. He, learning about who he was, and she, missing who she had been. And while John was steadily becoming more accustomed to having magic, Ronnie’s need to soar in the night sky was becoming unbearable. She’d been lucky insofar that she hadn’t seen her dad for more than a space of a few minutes since they’d been back due to the back to back shifts at work. It wouldn’t be long before he noticed something was differe
nt.
Ronnie chewed on her lip as she looked at the heavily draped window. She had gotten to the point of avoiding any windows when dusk fell. Any sight of the sky when the sun went down, made it harder to deal with the fact that her magic was gone. The wind beckoned to her, the dark sky pulled at her…
It had gotten so bad that she was ready to go back to the Bog Elf and beg—whatever the cost or the consequences.
“Maybe it just takes a while to get used to it being gone,” John said, when she told him about her idea of going to beg to have her magic returned. “I think you need to wait before you go. Give it some time. Then, if you still want to go, I’ll go with you.”
“Okay,” she had agreed. She would wait as long as she could, but something would have to happen soon, or she would go nuts.
She knew that she had one other option, though it was more of a requirement. She needed to tell her dad what had happened. Once he got over being angry with her, he would know what to do. At the least, he would have sound advice for her.
“Why are all the drapes pulled down?” he asked when he came home that evening. “You look like you are hiding in here.”
That’s one way of putting it, Ronnie decided. She took a deep breath and told him about her trip into the forest to find the Bog Elf, of the knife that had cut away her magic—and the reason she was sitting in a dark, closed living room—hiding.
Her dad’s fluffy, white eyebrows had been the first things to respond. They rose above his glasses like two angry caterpillars. “Did you say he cut your feathers?”
“Yes.” Ronnie waited for the onslaught of fury.
A few seconds passed by, then he walked to the window and pulled the drapes to one side, letting the moonlight cast into the dark room. Ronnie stiffened, fighting the urge to go open the window and let the night air in.
“The night sky still charms you,” her father said, frowning, as if he were still trying to make sense of what she had done. “No one can take away the magic from a Chickcharney unless they kill it.”
“You mean my magic is still here?” Ronnie asked, her mouth dropping open.
“Yes. This Bog Elf you spoke of may have taken your feathers, but he didn’t take your magic—at least not permanently.” A hard, reprimanding look came over his face. “I cannot believe you tried to give your magic away for a boy. The next time you do such a terrible thing, Veronica, there will be consequences. You were lucky this time. The next time, you will be grounded until you begin college—and I am not joking.”
“Yes, sir,” Ronnie said meekly.
“I would say you learned your lesson for now. There is no worse feeling than avoiding who you truly are.” Her dad opened the window and a brisk breeze entered the room. Ronnie immediately felt the brush of magic beneath her flesh, the push of feathers beneath her skin. “Besides, a breath of fresh air always puts things into perspective. You need to fly. At the very least, it will remind you of what you could have lost.”
THE WIND CAUGHT beneath Ronnie’s wings as she stood on the balcony. Her feathers hadn’t grown completely back, but there was enough there that she knew she would rise easily into the sky. As a sudden gust surged against her, she turned loose of the railing, letting it carry her up. She caught sight of a group of shadows, running in the forest and recognized one familiar shape in the midst of the others.
John was with a group of other guys, whom she knew were Woodsburls, learning more about who he was—from those who could teach him the most.
As she flew over them, John turned and caught sight of her, a huge smile stretching across his face. His whoop of excitement bounced in the air around her and he jumped up and down in the forest below her.
I’ve granted my own wish, she realized as John’s excitement filled her with happiness. I wished for the same amount of magic that John had and I had it all along. I truly am charmed.
EFFLEHURT HOBBLED AROUND the table, happily snatching up the last feathers that had escaped him. He sat back down and picked up a needle, carefully adding the remainder of them to the long line he had sewn together.
A grand book they will make, he thought happily, as he spread the long string of feathers out on his work table. Never in all of his long years had he had the fortune of coming across a Chickcharney, willing to part with their magic. Not many believed in the owl’s ability to grant good fortune—but he did. Being alive for as long as he had, had given him the ability to believe in things that most took for granted.
Like that silly girl. He could tell the instant she arrived that she hadn’t truly believed she held the power to curse him. Her love for some boy had been stronger than the belief in herself. But Efflehurt had believed.
Easily he could have taken her life, which he knew to be the only true way to end her magic, as she had wanted him to do. But had he done that, her beautiful feathers would have been useless to him—as ordinary as a barn owl’s. That would have robbed him of the joy of creating a new book—one that held the power to grant wishes. As a creature with his own dark magic, he tended to create books that would give him an advantage over others, but this book would be an exception of sorts. If he managed to craft it correctly, and spell it in a manner that wouldn’t counter the magic in the feathers, he would have a splendid book, indeed. One, that he hoped, would grant his one wish.
His wish to never be found by Wynter again.
Even if he was successful, he knew his book wouldn’t protect him forever. As the feathers had been cut, they would lose magic over time. This was one thing of which Efflehurt was certain. Time always had a way of correcting things that should not be—of taking back things that didn’t belong.
Still, with luck, his wish to remain elusive would be granted for a time. As long as the girl lived, her magic would live on.
He smiled, deciding to give his first wish to the one who had bestowed her feathers to him. “May ye have a long and happy life,” he said. Then, feeling sentimental, Efflehurt decided to give her another of his wishes. “And may it be with the one ye love.”
Chapter 1
Wolves don’t typically fear the unknown. They respect it, but they don’t fear it—especially those that are trapped inside of a human most of the time. Still, as I stepped out the back door of the house and sat down on the steps, I knew something was definitely not right. My heart was trying to beat itself out of my chest. The sensation was new. Being U-la-gu of my people, leader of the Keepers, typically gives me nerves of steel where most things are concerned.
The feeling had started a few hours earlier. It began as a sort of nagging feeling—as if I’d forgotten to do something. But being as this was a Friday evening, there was only one thing planned and it was the same thing that happened every Friday evening—a basketball game with the other five Keepers. Nothing else was ever scheduled for Fridays because when you get a group of guys together for a game of ball and all of you have wolf counterparts, the game lasts for hours and hours, sometimes well into the night. We were fierce competitors when it came down to it. After all, when you had the ability to change into a wolf any time you wished, there were certain advantages—like shifting into a wolf to jump and catch the ball just as it was getting ready to fall into the net, or dodging around one another, shifting back to human to pass the ball.
Rarely did anyone ever actually score a point, though we did manage to bust a ton of balls. Rubber just didn’t stand much of a chance against fangs.
So here I sat, waiting for the rest of my pack to arrive, with a feeling so unsettling that all I wanted to do was shift into my wolf and run into the forest as fast as my four legs would carry me. That wouldn’t be a good idea, though. At least not right now. If the guys suspected something was wrong, they’d follow. That’s the great thing about the pack. We stick together. Always. Normally, I’d want them by my side, but today, whatever it was that was causing my unease was pulling me into the forest—and I wanted to be alone.
I sighed, curled my arms around my knees and waited. It
didn’t take long before my best friend popped around the corner, a new basketball in his hands. “Hey, Adam. Look what came in today. Guaranteed the toughest ball out there or your money back. I saved the receipt in case they lied to me.” Erik grinned.
“Yeah, fang marks might void the warranty.” Ed appeared next. He rolled his eyes, tying his hair back from his angular face. The most serious, Eats Dirt Young Eagle was the brains of our group. He also tended to be the most cynical. “There hasn’t been a ball yet we haven’t managed to destroy beyond recognition. I doubt your receipt does you any good, Erik.”
I felt the weird feeling ease up as I listened to my friends joke and the last two boys showed up. The cousins, Michael and Tommy, were nearly identical to anyone who didn’t know them. Everything about them matched, even the dimples in their cheeks.
“Sorry we’re late. Tommy got stuck in the library,” Michael announced, more than ready to lay the blame on his cousin.
“I couldn’t help it. I had a book to return or else it was going to be late. Mrs. Graham is not someone I want to tick off. That woman can be pure evil when she wants to be. It shouldn’t have taken so long, but she was busy asking me questions, wanting to know if anyone had moved into the old Harmon place.” Tommy shrugged, and then frowned. “As if I’d know. It’s not like I haven’t got better things to do than sit at the edge of the forest and watch for new neighbors. Anyway, since it’s my fault we’re late, I’ll referee first.”
Someone always had to sit out when we played. The odd number of five had its disadvantages, basketball being one of them. But it wasn’t all bad since whoever was stuck on the sidelines normally had the interesting and entertaining chore of calling out fouls wherever he could find them.
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