Robin Owens - Enchanted Ever After

“Yes. And I’m scrambling to get the bones of the game done. At least the Fire Realm is shaping up.” Her spine stiffened as resolve banished uncertainty in her heart. “If we’re careful, we can...” She couldn’t promise even herself that Kiri might not die.

“Minimize the risk,” Aric said.

Jenni sighed, snuggled against her love. They’d survived troubles and struggles, too.

“I think mass and magic are linked,” Aric said. “The humans who died trying to transform might only have had enough magic to become a small air or fire elemental, but they had human mass and...”

“Couldn’t make the change.” Jenni scrubbed at the tears on her face, breathed through her clogged throat. No, she wouldn’t be forgetting the sight of the dying soon.

Again Aric circled her with his arm, and they rocked a little side by side, until she realized tension ran through him and became suspicious of his silence. “What’s up?”

Aric turned and looked down at her, clearing his throat. “It occurred to someone—”

“Who?”

“Amber Davail, who brought the idea to me and I spoke to the King of Air about the matter—”

“What matter and why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted the king’s input first and I am trying to tell you now. So listen.” She heard his large breath. “Have you considered that now some humans have spontaneously transformed into Lightfolk when the royals did rituals, that some near-Dark ones might also transform?”

“What! No, I hadn’t thought of that.” Jenni gasped.

“Not at all good,” Aric said. “We believe evil humans might also become magical abominations—more than human criminals.”

Jenni swallowed, twice. Looked around for a bottle of water. Hartha appeared and gave her a cup of hot and soothing tea, vanished again, obviously not wanting any part of the discussion.

After letting the horrible notion circle through her brain for a bit, Jenni said, “But the humans becoming Lightfolk have a poor survival rate. We can only hope that spontaneous Dark transformations have the same.” She nibbled her lip. “Most Dark ones are affected by their evil and, uh, twisted physically.”

Aric’s brows rose as he followed her reasoning. “Then human evil might also twist and be noticeable. Abominations and monsters in truth,” Aric said. “I’ll add that to my report to the royals.”

Jenni noticed the trickle of the fountain in the corner of the sunroom. It wasn’t very loud because the more she leaned on her magic and her natural fire nature, the less she liked water. Slowly, she said, “I think Lathyr will work well with me and my new game project.”

“The sniffer?” Aric bumped her shoulder, teasing.

“Sniffer?”

“That’s what the Water King calls him. For Lathyr’s ability to sniff out potential Lightfolk. The scholars believe that when we got that extra magic, some Lightfolk who are mixed elements also received a boost in their magic or an extra talent. Lathyr has a touch of elven blood.”

As did her Aric, and Jenni herself.

She hesitated, doubts still creeping.

“You were right to call him to scan Mystic Circle,” Aric said.

“Yes. I had a strong feeling about Kiri.”

“Did anyone else have the potential?”

“Dan. He might be able to transform.”

“Dan, but not Frank?” Aric matched her gaze.

“Dan is fully human, Frank has a touch of air in his ancestry. I’d rather just stick to fully human right now. We don’t know how other innate magics might react.”

“So we won’t be recruiting Dan or telling either of them about the project.”

“No. They’re a couple and good together.”

Aric’s smile was slow. “As we are.”

“Yes. Lathyr is handsome in a mer way, but not nearly as attractive as you. I don’t care for pale blue and shimmery skin. Though the ears are cute.” With a low chuckle she rose, sliding her hand to grasp his. “Let’s go upstairs and have a private party.”

“Sounds great.” He paused. “How’s the game making going?”

“Despite my whining yesterday, I’ve got a handle on it. I’ve decided not to make it too real. We’ll have control.”

Another grunt from Aric. “Good. Now let’s concentrate on us.”

“One last thing,” Jenni purred.

“Yes?”

“What else have the royals decided about that you aren’t telling me?”

He swept her up into his arms. “They’re involved in another scheme.”

“More important to them than me and my game, and even the Meld of tech and magic.” Jenni nodded. “Thought so. What?”

“Establishing a permanent gate to another dimension.”

Jenni gasped again, and her husband, her lover, showed his true talent in taking her mouth with his and making all thought drain away.

* * *

Lathyr slipped into the muddy lake, changing his form to full mer with genuine relief. Traveling through trees with Aric had dried Lathyr’s skin even more. Now his legs melded together into fintail, his skin scaled and his bilungs pumped as they converted from air-out-of-water atmosphere to air-in-water, and his sex was tidily tucked away and protected. He sighed out greatly relieved bubbles as water caressed him. Cracks in his scales, even a few scrapes, stung, adding a whiff of blood to the lake. Fish would come and investigate, as would his host, a very grumpy naiader—minor water Lightfolk. And there he was.

You are back, the naiader sent mentally and with emotional vibrations that moved through the water. His accent was terrible, as if he’d always lived on this continent, never been oceangoing at all. Lathyr hid his pity, though the man had not hidden his disappointment at Lathyr’s return to the lake.

Indeed, Lathyr said, swirling a little curtsy, inclining and twisting his torso, slipping his fintail to the side. And I have requested another domicile. He’d politely asked Aric to forward the suggestion that Lathyr be close at hand to Kiri during her testing, and Aric had agreed to pass the notion on.

The naiader’s heavy nostril frills showed in pride. Mine is the greatest lake in this city.

I hope to stay in the house that the Eight royals keep at Mystic Circle.

On land! In human form!

That is correct.

Shuddering from scalp to finpoint, the naiader backswam a yard or two. Lathyr had gotten the idea that his host had not transformed into his human shape for a long time, and this seemed to confirm it.

A sizzle zapped through the lake—great and powerful magic. The Water King, Marin Greendepths, had arrived, a large and heavily muscled merman.

Well, sniffer, I heard you don’t like the ambience of this lake. He spoke telepathically and with mer signing in the brown murk, then spurted air and laughter. Lathyr held himself courteously stiff, tips of his tail fins digging into the mud to anchor him. He didn’t know why the mer king was in the middle of a continent, or whether other royals were at Eight Corp headquarters in downtown Denver, and didn’t ask. The Water King had a sense of humor bordering on cruel.

Lathyr moved his head so hair would cover his face, helping mask his expression. The king’s long green-blond hair streamed behind him. He had enough magic to be arrogant with it.

I thought to make a change, my lord, Lathyr said, keeping his head lower than the king’s. Due to his elven blood, Lathyr was taller than most mer and only an inch shorter than his king and had to keep track of his posture at all times.

This is a hole, the king said. Humans destroyed it as they do most things, he sneered, lips curling.

Yes, my lord.

Scratching his hard-scale chest, the king said, Landlocked. Dreadful. He pushed power out in a huge underwater wave.

Lathyr swallowed a nasty air bubble with water that seized in his bilungs. He kept the pain from showing, the effort to process the air.