by G. Bailey
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “But I’m not going to change my mind.”
“If you say so,” Samantha says. “In that case, we’ll say goodbye now.” She motions to Josie, who nods to me before turning and heading in the direction of the door. “Be seeing you,” Samantha says, and follows her.
I’m left to watch them go, feeling more alone than I ever have before.
It takes me a long time to go back to sleep. After setting an alarm on my phone, and noticing that the battery is getting low--I’ll have to find a place to charge it before too long, I spend a long time back on the sheet of cardboard, staring at the ceiling. For a while I’m afraid to go to sleep, wondering if the thugs from earlier are going to return--this time with friends--but after more than an hour I let myself relax a little. If they were really going to come back, they probably would have done so already. Most likely they don’t want to take the risk, and I don’t blame them. I’m not under any illusions that these powers--whatever they are--aren’t dangerous.
The longer I lie there, trying to find sleep, the more I start to have second thoughts. Was I too hasty to send the women away? It was obvious they wanted to help me, and as shocking as this all is, wouldn’t it be better to have someone in my corner, someone who understands what’s happening to me? What if I transform again and hurt myself… or someone else? Then there’s what they said about humans coming after me if that happens. With no family to speak of, it would be easy enough for them to make me disappear, to whisk me off to some black site where I’ll never be heard from again, all in the name of keeping the human world safe from shifters.
I can feel a fresh wave of anxiety bubbling up inside me, and if it weren’t for the fact that I’m physically exhausted, I probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Eventually, though, I drift off, uncomfortable as I am on the hard concrete floor, and when I do, I dream.
I’m in a police interrogation room. The detective has his hands on the desk, his eyes furious as he stares down at me. I don’t feel quite right, and there’s a creeping, haunting sensation that I’ve done something terrible. “Why did you do it?” he asks me, slamming his hand down on the desk. “Why? People are dead because of you, Millie. Innocent people. All because you were too selfish to think of anyone but yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” I begin, desperate to explain myself, even though I don’t even know what I did to end up here. “I didn’t mean to. You have to believe me.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t mean to,” the detective says, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you did it. You thought you could mess around with things you can’t control and look at what’s happened. You’re a murderer.”
“A murderer?” My eyes widen. “No, that’s not true. There has to be some mistake.” I lift my hand to try to placate him, and that’s when I notice two things.
The first is that my hand doesn’t look human. It’s red and scaly, with razor sharp claws where the nails should be.
The second is that it’s covered in blood.
I sit bolt upright on the cardboard, gasping for breath. There’s sweat staining my clothes, and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I look around as I try to collect myself after the nightmare and notice that light is streaming in through the window. I’m still in the warehouse, it’s morning, and the storm from last night finally seems to have let up.
There’s a lump in my throat, and I’m filled with the sense of guilt, terror, and unease that always comes after a bad dream like that. Relax, I tell myself. It was just a dream, probably because you were still thinking about all this shifter stuff. You’re fine. You didn’t hurt anybody.
No, the other part of my mind argues, but you could. You know that, don’t you?
“Damn it,” I mutter, raking a hand through my dirty hair. I can already feel the stubborn resistance I had to the women from the academy melting away, the dream having planted a paralyzing seed of fear and anxiety in my chest. Who am I kidding, anyway? It’s not like I have any other options. Even if the dream doesn’t end up coming true, even if these abilities don’t cause a disaster, I’m still alone, jobless, and friendless. How long will I last on the streets, anyway? Maybe before I turned into some kind of supernatural being, I could have made it work. It would have been hard, sure, and I might not have been cut out for it, but I could have at least given it a shot. But things are different now, and there’s no denying that. The scope of my world has been changed, whether I like it or not.
I let out a long sigh, feeling the resignation wash over me.
I don’t have a choice--I never had a choice.
Stretching, I grab my phone to check the time, and my eyes widen. It’s a quarter to nine. If I’m not at the dock in fifteen minutes, Samantha and Josie will be gone forever.
Chapter 6
The fact that I’m not at all familiar with this part of town isn’t doing me favors, and by the time I’ve scrambled to my feet, gathered up my stuff, and bolted out of the warehouse and back into the bright sunshine, I’m almost positive I’m not going to make it. Frantic, I pull out my phone, feeling half-insane as I bring up the maps app. If I miss this chance, I’m screwed, and it’s rapidly going up on nine.
Yeah, I think dryly, and whose fault is that, exactly? Okay, fine. Mine. Point taken. But can you blame me?
I’m in luck; the marina Samantha mentioned is close--less than ten minutes away, if I run. Not wasting another minute, I jog down the street. The passersby are still giving me dirty looks, but for some reason--whether it’s the fact that I’m in such a hurry or the fact that I now know I have the ability to breathe fire--they don’t scare me as much as they did last night. All I care about at this point is heading those two witches off before they take away my only chance to make sense of this new situation.
Rounding onto a busier street, I pick up my pace, nearly crashing into a couple that’s walking in my direction. I call an apology over my shoulder as I go, feeling the necklace that Mollie gave me digging into my heel against the sole of my boot. There’s no time to adjust it; I bolt forward, passing confused-looking pedestrians as I make a beeline for the docks. Soon I can see the outline of the pier in the distance, dark against the sun that’s glistening off the water. And there… yes, I can see them. Two, by now familiar, female figures. It’s a minute to nine; all I can do is pray that they’ll see me coming and wait.
I sprint the rest of the way to the pier, kicking myself all the while for telling them to go away. As I get closer, I see that their backs are to me, and they’re facing out towards the waves, shielding their eyes from the glaring sun with their hands. “Hey!” I yell as soon as I’m in shouting distance. They don’t seem to hear me, and I can see Samantha extending her hands, as if she were praying… or casting a spell. Her skin has gone red again. “Hey!” I shout again, tearing across the wooden planks as I reach the end of the dock.
Finally, I seem to have gotten their attention. Josie is the first one to turn to look at me, raising her eyebrows slightly when she sees me jogging towards her. She nudges Samantha on the arm who then lowers her hands and turns in my direction. I think I see the hint of a half-smile on her face when she realizes I’ve changed my mind, and I’m willing to let her have the satisfaction, considering how narrowly I almost missed them. “I’m sorry,” I say, breathless as I slow to a walk and close the distance between us. “I’m sorry. I almost didn’t make it.”
Samantha quirks an eyebrow at me. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“If you think I’m saying I’ve had a change of heart and want to come with you after all, then yes,” I reply without missing a beat. My face feels a little flushed, both from the exercise and from the embarrassment.
Samantha’s smile grows. “I’m glad to hear it. I had a feeling you might end up coming here after all.” She holds her hand out to me, and I can see the honesty in her eyes. Not hesitating this time, I reach out and take it, giving it a short, firm shake. “You made the right choice, Millie. Seri
ously.”
I nod, still breathing hard, and the sense of relief that washes over me is enough to make me agree with her. “Well,” I say, trailing behind them as they return to the end of the pier, “what happens now? Horse-drawn carriage? Flying carpet?”
Josie chuckles. “Don’t you think that would be a little cliche?” She turns to Samantha, who nods and extends her arms again. I watch as her skin turns red, the color rippling up her arms to her elbows, her palms beginning to glow with an eerie light in a matching shade of crimson. I glance behind us. If someone happened to pass by, they would be in for one hell of a sight. But there’s nothing to worry about; the marina is deserted, and even on the farther docks there’s hardly a soul to be seen.
Overhead, a seagull shrieks down at us. For a moment, there’s just the silence of the pier, the lapping of the waves, and my own heart beating in my ears. Then I notice a tingling sensation in my body. It starts in my fingers and then begins to vibrate upwards, growing stronger each time. Seconds later, my eyes widen as I stare down at my body. If I hadn’t seen everything I’ve seen in the past day, I would think I was hallucinating. I can see through my legs. Underneath my feet, which have gone translucent, I can make out the shape of the boards we’re standing on.
I snap my head back up, panicking a little, and grab Josie by the arm. “It’s okay,” she says, nodding down at her own legs. They’re turning see-through as well, as are Samantha’s. “Just relax. It will be over in a minute.”
Fighting my instinctive reaction to freak out, knowing already that at this point I’m better off just sitting back and enjoying the ride, I drop my shoulders and let the sensation wash over me. Soon, the planks under my feet are changing color, going from brown to vibrant green, and I can see the shapes of grass blades becoming clear. It’s like a Polaroid photograph that’s slowly developing in front of my eyes, except instead of the changes happening on a piece of celluloid, they’re happening to the ground beneath me. The next thing I know, the cool breeze off the ocean is dying down, the sky turning overcast, the sounds of the waves fading into the background.
I look around again, and my breath catches in my throat.
We’re no longer at the Marina. In fact, it’s becoming increasingly clear to me that we’re no longer in the city, period. We now stand on top of a sloping hill, with green fields stretching out as far as the eye can see. In the distance is a forest, following more rolling hills onto the horizon. It’s nowhere I can recognize, and for all I know, we could be miles away from where we just were. In fact…
“Where are we?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“A few minutes off campus,” Josie replies. She points behind me, and I follow her motion, eyebrows raising as I take in what’s on my other side. The hill continues downward, lush green grass carpeting the ground, and at the bottom is an enormous, old building. It reminds me a little of an old-fashioned boarding school, like something out of a movie, supported by tall marble pillars, with balconies on every story and ivy creeping up the outer wall. In front of it is a paved road that wraps around in a loop before snaking away towards the forest in the background.
“Is that…?” I ask, not able to pull my gaze away. Samantha nods.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help but suck in a breath. This can’t be real, can it? None of this is possible. Again I wonder if I’m dreaming, and again I have to remind myself that I’m not. “Where are we?” I ask, my voice sounding soft and far away. “How did we get here?”
“A teleportation spell,” Samantha replies. “It’s a taxing form of magic, especially when we’re going this far, but it’s more efficient than other human forms of transportation. Sometimes I forget what it’s like to experience it for the first time.” She puts her hands on her hips, and I can now see that she looks a little drained. “We’re on an island,” she continues. “Not far from Scotland, actually. It’s not huge, but it’s all property of the academy.”
“Now you see why coming with us was so important,” Josie adds. “This is a place away from prying eyes, where you can train in peace and safety.” She turns to Samantha, raising an eyebrow. “Although I don’t see why you couldn’t have just brought us to the front door, while you were at it.”
Samantha shoots her a look. “You try jumping three people this far. I’m beat. Besides…” She nods to me, smirking a little. “I always like to see the looks on their faces when they see it from up here.”
I clear my throat, unable to disagree with her. I feel like I’ve stepped out of the real world and into the pages of one of my fantasy books. “So what now?” I ask. “Do I have to sign up for classes? Where am I going to live?”
“All in due time,” Samantha says, holding up a hand. “We’ll start by taking you to the registrar’s office, and from there we can figure out what classes you’ll need to take first.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, “that reminds me. You said that there are - what, five different types of shifters?” Josie nods, and I continue. “But you never told me which kind I am.” I see something cross her face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to identify it. Now that the danger is over for the time being, I can’t help but feel a little curious which type of shifter I am. That’s a weird thing to think about, I think.
“I mean,” I continue, “I turned red like you guys, but I also had claws, and fur, and scales, and fangs…” I shake my head, thinking back to my monstrous appearance when I looked at my reflection earlier. “So what am I?”
Josie clears her throat. “Why don’t we start walking, and we’ll tell you what we know on the way? Would that be all right?”
I nod, and the three of us begin to make our way down the slope and towards the front of the building.
“The truth is,” she says, not looking at me as we pick our way over the grassy ground, “we’re not sure what kind of shifter you are.”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Your magic signature was unlike anything we’ve ever seen before,” Samantha chimes in. “At first, we weren’t even sure if we had detected a shifter. I was wondering if my charm was faulty and needed to be replaced.” She turns to look at me. “So far, you’ve described characteristics of several types of shifters. The fur is typical of wolf shifters, but the claws and scales sound like a siren--or maybe a dragon.”
“I did breathe fire earlier,” I admit. “When those guys attacked me.” Samantha raises her eyebrows but doesn’t reply, looking thoughtful.
“And then there are the fangs, which makes me think vampire,” Josie says, “but you said your skin turned red, like ours.”
“So you’re saying I’m… what, just a mish-mash of all these different kinds?” I ask. “How is that even possible?”
“It’s not,” replies Samantha. “At least, not as far as I’m aware. That’s why we need to talk to somebody else and get more information. Someone who knows more about these things might be able to get to the bottom of it.”
“I guess I have two reasons to thank you guys for bringing me here, then,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry I was so rude to you earlier. I was just scared, I think.”
“That’s normal,” Josie replies. “What matters is that you’re here now, and you’re safe. Now your training can start.” We stop where the circular drive passes in front of the building. The giant front doors stare me down, and I’m struck by the sense that after I walk through them, my life as I knew it, as much of a life as I had, anyway, will be over. Josie smiles at me as if she can read my thoughts - and for all I know, she can.
“Millie Brix,” says Samantha, starting toward the doors, “welcome to Shifter Academy.”
Chapter 7
The women push the doors open and we find ourselves in a large entrance hall. The ceiling seems almost impossibly high, with marble floors underfoot and an enormous staircase in the back leading to the upper levels. Hallways and classrooms stretch in every direction, and as tranquil as it looked from the o
utside, inside, the school is bustling with life. Students and teachers mill about, some looking like they’re on their way to classes and some looking like they’ve just gotten finished. They jostle each other as they move through the entrance hall, passing papers back and forth and moving in gossiping clumps.
The students all wear pristine white uniforms--skirts or leggings for the girls and slacks for the guys. I suppose if this is some kind of ancient magical school; it makes sense that there’s a dress code. The thing that startles me, though, is how normal they all seem: no claws or fangs to speak of, just a plethora of normal skin tones, with no scales, fur, or magical powers to be seen. If I didn’t know better, I might mistake this for just another European boarding school.
“Cat got your tongue, Millie?” Josie asks, a gleam in her eye as they lead me across the foyer. We turn a corner into a hallway full of old-fashioned classrooms and offices, the kind you would find in a 1900s boarding school. Part of me wonders how the hell I’ll ever find my way around this place.
“The students,” I reply quietly. “They all seem so…”
“Human?” offers Samantha. “Don’t be fooled. They’re all shifters, like you.”
“Like me?” I ask.
“I see where you’re going with this,” Samantha replies. “The answer is no; none of them have shown characteristics of more than one clan… until now.”
“I see,” I say, heart sinking a little. “But why haven’t any of them… you know, transformed?”
“Excellent question,” replies Samantha. “Transforming is strictly forbidden outside of class, at least until you’ve shown to be competent at controlling your powers. Of course, many students break the rules and do it anyway, but if you want to stay on the good side of the faculty here, you won’t test your luck.”