Magic to the Bone (5 page)

I definitely wanted something like that. Or… I laughed.

I could be a dragon-cat. Wolves, tigers… I loved those creatures. But with scales. I tried to imagine the look on Alek’s face if
I turned into a winged, scaly tiger in front of him. Longing twisted in my heart. I missed his face, the scruff of his beard, the winter sky reflected in his pale eyes. He’d never see my dragon self.

Except he kind of had. I remembered what he said after I’d stopped the bomb and saved the alphas. He’d seen a dragon in that fire. We hadn’t talked about it after, about what kind of dragon it had
been or what it had looked like. Did his perception matter? I wasn’t sure. It probably didn’t. Ash would likely tell me that Alek had seen what his brain could interpret, just as I had in the poison-vision.

My dragon body would be mine. Mine to decide. So why not a scaled, winged cat thing? I loved big cats; I loved purple and silver; I loved flying. Retractable claws seemed useful. I didn’t
need to gesture or anything to cast spells so paws wouldn’t be an issue, and I would totally make sure I could breathe fire or something. That was important.

Not a tiger. Tigers were overdone. Also not exactly American. I wanted a dragon form that was part of me, part of where I was born, who I was. Lynx, maybe? But with a long tail. A tail seemed useful.

I realized that I could pretty much
have just visualized Wolf, put a more catlike head on her, and stuck wings on, and been at nearly the place I was already. Maybe my subconscious was telling me something. Except definitely more scales. Definitely black, silver, and purple.

I was up most of the night visualizing my dragon self, putting details into the image in my mind. I hoped I hadn’t complicated it so much that I’d end up looking
like a Dr. Seuss character instead of a badass.

Ash brought me bread slathered in honey and a cup of tea. We watched the sun rise together in silence.

“Ready?” he asked finally.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck this up and look crazy,” I admitted.

Ash laughed and stood up. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing abs that rivaled Alek’s. That fact that he was my father made it super awkward.

“You think I
visualized this human body exactly? I didn’t care about muscles or even symmetry or being attractive to the humans. You build the picture as the base, your magic will take care of the rest. That’s why it is best to keep things simple. Let the power flow. Let the pattern fit where it wants to go.”

“Got it,” I said. “You can put your shirt back on.”

He did, hiding a smile as he looked down at
the buttons.

“Take the image of what you want. Fix it in your mind until there is nothing else, until it feels as real as the grass under your feet, as the air coming in and going out of your lungs. Then let the magic flow and don’t fight it.”

Sounded simple enough. Which scared me. Simple and magic meant disaster sometimes, in my experience.

I walked some distance away from Ash and closed
my eyes. I pushed away everything, every worry, every aching muscle. In my head I pictured my lynx dragon. Head like a cat’s, but with scales. Ears tufted with soft black fur. Whiskers, because they seemed useful. Big black wings with deep purple scales, and a long, scaly tail that ended in its own tuft of fur. A compact, strong body with purple-and-silver-tipped scales shimmering along its length.
Perfect scales, armor against anything that might try to hurt me. I built my dragon to be fast, strong, and to keep me safe.

Air in, air out. Just me and the dragon. I pulled on my magic, letting it spill through me unchecked. I was caught up in the onslaught, filled until I felt I would burst. I waited to burst, to transform, but the magic swelled and then ebbed.

Nothing. I opened my eyes and
turned to look back at Ash. I had failed.

Except my gaze met a scaled back and a large pair of folded black wings. And Ash seemed much smaller than he had before. I twisted fully around and reared back, looking down at myself. Paws! Retractable claws and purple paws. I unfurled my wings with barely a thought and beat them. Magic swelled through me again and I soared into the air. I didn’t need
the wings to fly, but after a couple of scary dives, I found a way to use them to help stabilize and change direction with greater agility. My tail helped with that also, just like I’d envisioned. I turned huge circles above Ash, my keen eyes making out his shit-eating grin as he watched me soar and spin.

I raised my head to the heavens and opened my jaw, roaring purple flames out into the sky.
Screw that weak human body, I thought. I wanted to stay this way and never turn back. Nothing could touch me, not up here, not with my armor. I would be safe forever.

Safe, but alone.

Reality reasserted itself and pulled me back toward the field and Ash. I couldn’t soar forever. Not if I wanted to save my friends. I saw my choices laid out before me like the Pattern that Ash spoke of. I could
stay in the Veil, stay a dragon-cat, be safe from the Samirs of the world.

Or I could go back to the imperfect Jade, the me I was born with instead of the me I’d chosen.

I dropped heavily to the ground and let instinct put me back into my body. Tears stung my eyes as I became human again. It was hard to let go, but I had shit to do and an evil ex to kill. I couldn’t fight him as a dragon, so
I had to resume my training as a human.

Some things are simple after all.

“I thought I’d have to go up and drag you back down in a few days,” Ash said. “You could spend more time in your other form if you want.” He was still half smiling, but his eyes looked sad.

“I can’t,” I said. “It’s glorious, but I can’t fight Samir like that. Besides, pretty sure that form would suck at videogames,” I
added, trying to smile.

“True,” Ash said. “You chose a beautiful dragon-cat thing, though. It’s very you. I’m so proud.” He reached out like he was going to ruffle my hair and I stepped out of range.

“Ack, no. Don’t get all weepy parental on me now. We gotta get back to you trying to kill me the way Samir will.”

“As you wish,” Ash said.

I followed him back to the cabin, wondering if the prison
he’d been in had
The Princess Bride
on Netflix, too.

Days and nights blended into each other. Ash made exploding stones explode at me. He even made a rope that cut. On one of his shopping trips he brought back a duffel bag full of guns. I resisted asking where those had
come from. Probably safer not to know.

He shot at me. He attacked me with magic. He turned invisible and made me practice sensing spells and my otherworldly awareness techniques, or whatever the hell I was supposed to be developing. He drilled me in the use of the magic dagger, as well, which was kind of awesome. The Alpha and Omega would turn into a sword at my command, light and responsive
in my hand. We never fought directly with it, though. Too much risk, since it was supposed to be able to kill anything.

Not a sorcerer, however. Ash was fairly sure of that. “I’d have a hell of a time regenerating from whatever it did, I imagine,” he said when I asked. “It would most likely destroy everything but my heart’s essence.”

“So if I stab Samir with it, I’ll still have to eat his heart?”
I looked at the dagger resting in its sheath. I had to admit that as much as I wanted to kill him deader than dead, I wasn’t looking forward to giving his memories a permanent home in my brain. At least now that I was whole, I didn’t have ghosts like mind-Tess lurking anymore. I didn’t even want to think about what a horror show it would be to have Samir living on as a strong presence in my
thoughts. Ick.

I trained. I slept. I ate. I fought. Sometimes, just for a little while, I turned into my dragon-cat form and flew, letting it all fall away for a precious, stolen moment.

“It’s time,” I said one night. I had been putting off saying so, but I could tell that Ash knew. I’d never be totally prepared. “I have to get back to my friends. Time is passing. Even days could be the difference
between them surviving or not.”

“Sit down, Jade,” Ash said. He motioned to the rug in front of the fire.

His tone was deadly serious, and it scared me enough that I sat without making any smart-ass comment about not being a dog. He sat as well, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees. His mostly unlined face looked harsher, older somehow.

“There’s one final thing I have to explain
to you,” he said, meeting my gaze with troubled eyes.

“You are freaking me out,” I said. “Just say it.” My stomach churned like it was full of acid and bees.

“You cannot, under any circumstances, kill Samir.”

“The fuck you say?” I fisted my hands on my knees and glared at Ash. “I’m killing him. What the fuck has all this been for if not that?”

“You must defeat him, I agree. But you cannot
swallow his heart. Destroy him with the Alpha and Omega, trap his heart in a container—anything but eat it.” Ash leaned forward, emphasizing his words with a curt gesture.

“Why?” I asked. Killing Samir was the entire focus of my existence at the moment. This made zero sense.

“Two thousand years ago, a Seal cracked, leaking magic back into the world in greater and greater quantity. I believe
that crack was caused by Samir. His pattern is tied to the Seal. If he is destroyed, it could break the Seal, which could be enough to nullify the Oath entirely. Magic would overflow the world, the time of humans would be over, and the gods and demons and all the creatures of magic could return.”

That sounded pretty bad, sure. Yet… there was a lot of uncertainty in what Ash was saying, despite
his deadly serious tone.

“You are saying ‘could’ a lot,” I pointed out. “So you aren’t sure?”

Ash took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I am not sure. I am sure enough, however, that I will not let you go without your promise, Jade. Destroy him, but do not kill him.”

“What, you want some magical oath from me?” I got to my feet and paced away from him. I wanted to punch something. Samir
had to die. I didn’t want to end the world, though. It seemed too stupid and yet so fucking fitting of the RNG of my life that something I wanted would have consequences like this. Never lucky.

“No,” Ash said. “Your word will suffice.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. I folded my arms across my chest and shook my head as he started to speak again. “That’s the best you are going to get.”

Ash stared
up into my face and nodded slowly. “Don’t think too long,” he said.

I knew what he’d seen in my expression. I trusted him. I trusted the vision I’d seen on my hunt for my magic. I knew all too well the long-reaching and terrible consequences of fucking with super-powerful magic. I’d made the mistake once, though for a damn good cause. If a magic apocalypse could be avoided, I would do what I
must.

I walked out into the night and drew a deep breath of fresh air. I would leave in the morning, though it was probably silly to delay. I wanted one more night to marshal my thoughts and get ready to return to the real world.

Not killing Samir? Would destruction of his corporeal form and keeping his heart locked up in a box like the one he’d made for Clyde, his apprentice, to stuff me into
be enough?

Not for Harper. I could hear her angry words in my memory, her white-hot determination on getting revenge for Max. And I almost felt relief along with the pang of deep loss. She was dead, and I’d never forgive myself for leaving her behind like that.

But if she were alive, she’d never forgive me if I didn’t kill Samir.

“Sorry, furball,” I whispered into the darkness. “I hope you
will understand, if you are watching from some afterlife. I’m so sorry.” I scrubbed the tears from my cheeks and went back inside to make my father a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.

Harper crouched under the dubious cover of a stunted fir tree and watched the muddy, frozen dirt road that led away from Samir’s base of operations. She’d argued for a position closer
to the house, but with Junebug’s return, she’d lost that position to the far stealthier owl. Watch their movements, wait for an opportunity to perhaps sneak in. That was the brilliant plan—or really, compromise—they’d arrived at.