by Elle Adams
“Ha.” I smiled, unable to help myself. Never mind Nathan—it was refreshing to have a friend to hang out with.
Even if the werewolves did start up another rendition of some horrible ballad. We took that as our cue to leave.
13
I woke up bright and early on my first weekend in Fairy Falls, with Roald the cat licking my ear. I didn’t even scream this time, instead reaching to pet him. “You and I are going to have to talk about personal space at some point, Mister.”
The cat rubbed against my head, making my hair turn static. I yawned and sat up, dislodging him as carefully as I could manage, and looked out at the bright gardens. My first order of business for today ought to be to finally connect my phone to the paranormal network. Hopefully I’d be able to call and check on my foster parents. Not to mention my friends. For all I knew, my phone was blowing up with messages while my signal remained absent. If Rebecca wanted a babysitter this weekend, she was out of luck. The only reason I hadn’t gone broke in my weeks of unemployment was due to her paying me double to watch her adventurous three-year-old and cantankerous one-year-old. I was even less good with children than I was with animals, but I’d been desperate.
Life had changed so much in a week. It bothered me a little how quickly I’d adapted, but I’d had to. Besides, home had always been a temporary state for me, not permanent. Maybe it came from not knowing who I really was.
I found Alissa in the kitchen. “Any plans today?” she asked.
I stuck some bread in the toaster. “Grocery shopping. Laundry. Don’t they have spells for that?”
“They do,” she said. “But Madame Grey doesn’t like to encourage laziness.”
“I call it practicality,” I said. “I don’t even have my bank card or phone properly set up.”
She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Right—I can help you do that first. I forgot you have to sign up in person. I got signed up at birth like everyone else.”
“Story of my life,” I said. “I always thought there was a handbook of life skills I missed out on somewhere.”
She laughed. “You’ll learn in time. As for shopping, you know you can order a delivery, right?”
“I didn’t know you used delivery companies here.” I should know better by now. This was the twenty-first century, magical or not.
“We’ve lived alongside normals for long enough to mimic their ideas,” she said.
“Occasionally we have good ones.”
After breakfast, we walked to the town centre, where Alissa led me to the bank and helped me fill out their forms. Magic sped up the process, and within minutes I had my bank account all set up. Then we stopped at the phone shop and connected my mobile to the paranormal network on a plan which would allow me to call and message people outside of the town.
“So,” Alissa said, “now the boring part is out of the way, do you want to go and buy some serious mud-proof shoes in case of any more mishaps?”
“Maybe I’d be better off getting a levitating suit of armour covered in bubble wrap.”
She laughed. “Hey—levitation. I have an idea.”
She all but pulled me into a shoe shop. I’d always hated shoe shopping, but magical shoes ranged from waterproof mermaid-tails to ones which changed your appearance. Alissa pointed eagerly at a display of new releases.
“Seven Millimetre Boots?” I said dubiously.
“Seven League Boots got outlawed because people kept ending up lost at sea,” she explained, kicking off her own shoe. She pulled the boot on and took a deliberate step forwards. The boot zipped forwards… well, seven millimetres.
“Isn’t that just… one step?” I said dubiously.
“In any direction.” She stepped up, leaving the ground. “See?”
I had to admit that was kind of cool.
“Seven each way.” She stepped up, walking in a zigzag pattern on the air. “You can keep going. It’s more stable than a flying carpet or broomstick, or even a plain old levitation spell.”
“I’ve never seen a flying carpet or broomstick.”
“That’d be because they only fly on clear days. Health and safety nightmare otherwise.”
“Like skydiving.”
“You’ve done that?”
I took the boot she offered me. “No way, but I’d trust a professional with a parachute more than I trust my ability to control a stick of wood a mile up in the air. I think I’ll take the boots instead.” I slipped my foot into it, and to my surprise, it fit. Either the two of us were the exact same shoe size or the shoes magically resized themselves. Now that would make shopping less tedious.
“It’s lucky you’re too old for the witch academy,” she said. “But they make the parents sign a hundred forms before sending them out to fly.”
“Hogwarts didn’t seem to do health and safety warnings,” I observed, slipping my other foot into the second boot. “How can you live here and not have read Harry Potter?”
She shrugged. “Why read fantasy when you live it?”
“That’s not all it is.” I smiled. “I’ll convince you. Watch and see.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to win that argument. Anyway, try the boots.”
I did. My feet zipped upwards, then again. Whoa. I took another few steps, then abruptly pitched forwards in the air, flipping upside-down.
Alissa burst out laughing. “Okay, I see your point about the broomsticks.”
“Glad you find my misfortune amusing.” I attempted to step upright and somehow ended up standing at a horizontal angle. “Told you I have a hard enough time keeping upright with two feet on the ground.”
“Are you going to buy those?” asked the sales assistant, a young witch with purple streaks in her black hair.
“Assuming I can get them off,” I said. I took another step, and another, until I was the right away up again.
“We’re almost out of the black ones,” said the sales assistant. “Last order went out weeks ago. They’re custom designed.”
Hang on a moment. I looked down at my boot-clad feet. I’d seen someone else wearing an identical black pair recently. Apparently Wilfred Bloom shopped here. Since it was the only shoe shop, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised, but he hadn’t levitated into the office. Probably for the best.
“Yes,” said Alissa. “She is going to buy them.”
“I shouldn’t.”
The assistant pointed her wand at the boots in my hands and they jumped back into the shoebox. As she carried them to the desk, I whispered to Alissa, “I can’t keep owing people. I’m still not certain I’ll be keeping my job.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you’ve had a trying week, but you won’t get fired. Everyone likes you.”
“One of my co-workers hates me and the other might be permanently stuck as a werewolf because I couldn’t keep my nose out of an investigation that wasn’t mine to begin with.” And that wasn’t even getting into the fact that I wasn’t a witch. Veronica had been more or less shut in her office for the last two days when she wasn’t driving us to finish our client lists in record time.
“Ah,” she said. “I wouldn’t worry. The few naysayers would change their minds pretty quickly if they found out you have a better way of getting the answers than Steve does.”
“Doesn’t the police have lie detectors?”
“There are potions, but they couldn’t even narrow down the suspect list. You did that.”
“Save the praise for when I actually figure out who did it,” I said, blushing to the tips of my ears. “Also, I think he’ll probably hate me more if I steal his glory. Anyway, you win. I’m getting the magical boots. I might have to give them another trial run before I try to fly over the lake.”
“The lake,” she said. “We can go and see that next. The falls, too.”
Once the boots were wrapped up, we left the shop and continued down the cobbled street.
“If you meant it about the bubble wrap, I know a place,” said Alissa.
> “What, there’s magical bubble wrap?” I asked.
“It re-inflates and repairs itself up to ten times.”
I gave her a disbelieving look. “You’re joking.”
She smiled at my expression. “If I’d known you liked it so much, I’d have got you some.”
I adjusted the bags I carried and continued to walk. “Who doesn’t like bubble wrap? Especially the magical variety?”
“I know what to get you for your birthday, then.”
My birthday wasn’t until June. I hoped I’d get to stay here that long.
She led me to a stationary shop, which was packed with all manner of peculiarities ranging from pens with ink that changed colours to pencils jinxed to only write swear words.
“Oh. I’m in heaven,” I announced, spotting a temptingly squishy stack of bubble wrap. The biggest packs would be enough to cover our entire flat.
“Told you,” said Alissa.
“I can make it last a year.” I pulled it off the shelf. “But I’m only getting the small one. And now I really need to stop spending my wages on junk.”
“The boots might save your life someday,” she said wisely. “All right—let’s go and see the Fairy Falls and the lake.”
She was in such a good mood, it was impossible not to pick up on her infectious energy, despite the muddy path leading to the lake.
“You’d think someone could magic away the mud,” I said, grabbing her arm for the third time to keep from slipping over.
“It’s great fertiliser. But those boots should help. Might stop you falling over in front Nathan, too.”
I staggered upright. “Fainting and falling aren’t the same thing.”
“He’s going to think you’re weak at the knees for him.”
“Pfft. I’d be weirded out if a guy kept falling on his face in front of me. And what if he guesses that it’s because I haven’t told him what I really am?” Would he mind? Considering how the werewolves had reacted last night, it was plain he didn’t get along with all the paranormals as well as Alissa had seemed to think.
“It’s no big deal. There was a mix-up. It happens.”
“Really?” I gave her a look. “And I suppose fairies who don’t know what they are wander in here every day?”
“Maybe they do,” she said. “Just not here.”
“So inspiring.”
“Hey, it’s what makes you unique.”
“Usually that’s not a good thing.” I trod carefully along the muddy path. “Sometimes it’s nice to know where you fit.”
“Don’t you think you fit here? In spite of everything?”
“You know… I do. But I think I’m going to have to change into those boots as soon as I find somewhere dry to sit down.”
I shoved the investigation firmly out of mind as we reached the lake. The water was pollution-free, and such a deep shade of blue that it looked like something out of the tropics. The surface was so clear up close that I could see every strand of the faintly glowing weeds, and faces hidden amongst the golden-tinted plants.
“Water imps. They bite.”
I withdrew my hand quickly from where I’d caressed the cool water. “It’s stunning.”
“Isn’t it?” She looked out across the lake’s rippling surface. “There are boat races in summer,” she said. “At the academy of magic. And they host various water sports.”
“What are those?” I pointed to a group of human-shaped creatures with blue skin and seaweed-like hair. “Mermaids?”
“Nereids. Water fairies. They keep to themselves.”
Fairy. Would they recognise me as one of them? They seemed more interested in frolicking and chasing their own tails, and I wasn’t about to dive into the imp-infested water to join them.
“There are merpeople in there, too,” she added, pointing to a group of fish-tailed human-like creatures swimming with some witches in the shallows. “They wouldn’t come ashore if they didn’t like socialising with humans so much.”
A group of broomsticks whirled overhead, and I stared up at them. “Isn’t it a bit too cloudy for flying?”
“Not for them. They’re the High Fliers Society. They’re open for membership,” she added.
“Yeah, no,” I said, as the brooms flipped and glided through the air in motions that made me feel airsick even on the ground. “I don’t mind flying, but that looks uncomfortable at best. Have you ever tried?”
“I used to be in the society, actually.” She grinned a little. “Quit after a bad accident. Now I see enough of their injuries in the hospital to be put off ever joining them again.”
“Makes sense.” I watched the wheeling broomsticks, trying to imagine myself up there. As though wings might be there behind my shoulder blades. “Whereabouts are the falls?”
“This way.” She beckoned me down a path alongside the lake. I kept one eye on the merpeople and the other on the sky, with the result that Alissa had to save me from falling into the water a few times. Eventually, we reached the foot of the rocky path leading to the falls.
The waterfalls were even more impressive close up. Curtains of water cascaded down, throwing showers of glittering foam onto the bank.
I walked right up to the endlessly flowing water. “It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it? They say it’s made of fairy dust.”
“In a literal sense?” I stepped as close as I could to the edge without slipping over into the water, reaching a hand out.
“I honestly have no idea.”
Fairy dust.
I put my hand under the falls. Deliciously cool water, tinged with glitter, made my palm shimmer, but my hand looked the same as before when I pulled it out. Part of me wanted to dive in, but seeing those faces and hands in the water… maybe not. It was difficult to tell how deep the water was, but I’d never liked swimming much.
Glitter danced off the water, stirring a memory. When I’d escaped the collapsing mudslide, I was certain I’d seen an odd shimmer in the corners of my eyes. Had my fairy magic saved me?
We walked back to the town eventually. The sunset over the water was stunning, and I could hardly bear to drag my eyes away from the golden-tinted lake.
“Is the bookshop still open?” I asked Alissa. “I wanted to get a copy of that fairy book.”
“We can detour that way,” she said. “Oh hey—it’s your friend.”
Nathan walked towards us, his hands in his pockets. Even in casual wear, he had the manner of a man on a mission. I gave myself a mental shake for dwelling a little too long on the curl of dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Hey, Blair,” he said. “Did you come to check out the falls?”
“Yeah, we’re on our way back. It’s so beautiful out here.”
Alissa gave me a not-so-subtle nudge with her elbow. His gaze dropped to the carrier bags in my hands. “Bubble wrap?”
So much for keeping my dignity this time. Then again, anyone who didn’t enable my bubble wrap obsession wasn’t worth bothering with. “Yep. Don’t judge me.”
“I have a sister who loves that stuff.”
Sister? It was the first time he’d mentioned family. Why couldn’t he be the one I was interrogating? I guess you couldn’t have it all.
“What’re you here for?” I asked.
“I’m here to keep an eye on the High Fliers,” he said. “Just in case any of them fall into the lake and start a fight with the nereids.”
“Is that likely?” I asked.
“Yes, unfortunately,” said Alissa. “Luckily I’m not working tonight.”
“See you around, Blair,” he added. Alissa nudged me again. I pretended not to notice until he was out of sight.
“Is he ever not on duty?” I said to her.
“Sure, when he’s taking you for dates in coffee shops.”
“Oi. Enough match-making. I told you I’m not ready for a relationship, here or otherwise. I need to get a handle on life, first.”
“You have more of a handle on it than
they do.” She pointed to the sky, where the broomstick-riding witches and wizards appeared to have created a pile-up in mid-air.
“Oops,” I said. “Can’t they use a spell on the broomsticks to stop people falling off them?”
“Technically, but it’s not fool-proof, and the High Fliers insist it’d ruin the fun. Anyway, stop diverting. You like him. Didn’t fall over this time, either.”
“No, but I didn’t fall the first time. I was sitting on the floor of my own free will.” She had a point. I was soaking wet from the falls, but no mud or floors were involved this time. An improvement.
As we reached the bookshop, a pitiful meowing noise came from the doorstep. I glanced down and spotted a black cat with a white paw. One of its eyes was grey, the other was a startling blue. “The bookshop’s cat?”
“No idea. Looks like it’s closed, though—we can come back tomorrow. I think that cat wants to come with us.”
Sure enough, the cat got to its feet and padded after us.
“You already have a cat,” I pointed out.
“Maybe he’s your familiar.”
“I’m not supposed to have a familiar,” I said. “I’m not a witch.”
“Miaow.” The cat was right behind me.
“Seriously,” I said. “I’m not in a position to adopt anything.”
The cat kept following. I’d never even kept a plant alive, let alone an animal. But he looked so bedraggled. Maybe there was an animal shelter or somewhere to take him to.
“See?” she said. “He likes you.”
“He thinks I have food. I can’t keep a pet.”
“Says who? We’re allowed all the animals we want. The landlord doesn’t care as long as they don’t mess up the garden.”
“I’m not good with animals. When I was at school, I was entrusted with looking after the class’s pet snails.”
“Pet snails?” She wrinkled her nose.
“There was no budget for a hamster. Anyway, the snails escaped and were never seen again.” I’d spent hours running around in the rain looking for substitutes. The teacher never noticed, luckily, so I got away with that one.
“Cats are intelligent and well-behaved.”