Page 46 of Wooing the Wiccan
“See Anice over there? She’s a cat—a felid shifter. You’ll usually be able to tell someone’s a shifter by the way they move. Our joints are more fluid than other species, and we have great balance. Felids are generally smaller than hellhounds, so if you see someone you think is a shifter, you can make a guess at which kind based on their size.”
“Got it.” None of that seems at all scientific or concrete, so I think I’ll just stick to politely asking if I really feel like I need to know.
“Al, Caolan was looking for you,” another big guy says as we pass more desks. Hellhound? There are no horns. “He said the glitterball tournament is back on.”
Alistair stops dead. “Really? He made the spell work?” He yanks his cell from his pocket.
“Apparently the king helped him with the spell,” the guy continues. “That man is so amazing. What other species leader would help with this even though he doesn’t approve of glitterball, just because he knows we all really want to play?”
I try to ignore the pang in my chest. That does sound like something Raðulfr would do—like the time he helped me research how to look after kiwi plants, even though he dislikes the fruit and thinks me trying to grow one is a waste of time and space, especially in our climate. He even went so far as finding a reputable grower who’d be willing to part with some seedlings for me.
Alistair finishes his conversation and moves us along. “What’s glitterball?” I ask, even though what I really want to ask is for everything he knows about Raðulfr.
“It’s like paintball, but with glitter instead of paint,” he explains. “The problem we were having was that the glitter wasn’t giving enough pizzazz. We could get a glittery paintsplatter effect, which is boring, or we could get loose glitter, but it just kind of dropped wherever when the pellet broke.”
“Okay…” This is something I hope none of my students ever learn about. As a kindergarten teacher, I respect the joy glitter brings to young lives, and I even encourage its use. But I also loathe it with the fire of a thousand suns. That shit isimpossibleto get rid of. If you use glitter once, you will forevermore be finding random pieces of it in the weirdest possible places.
“What we really wanted was for the glitter to explode from the pellet and coat the person it hit. Like the effect you get from a glitter cannon, but targeted.”
Oh sweet goddess, no.
“Caolan was sure he could do it with the right spell, but it seemed like he was never going to perfect it. We were really discouraged.”
“But now you don’t need to be,” I manage. Raðulfr is a saint if he actually helped them do this—either that, or he’s not anything like the man I thought I knew.
Which brings me back to the dilemma I’ve been avoiding since he left my house last night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jared
I leavemy meeting with Xiao Wei at the Community Integration Agency feeling a lot more in control. She’s given me a ton of literature to read, answered questions I didn’t know I had, and pointed me in the direction of the community web, where I’ll be able to find even more information. She also set another appointment for us in a month and gave me a signup to an online forum for humans and others who are just learning about the community of species. Apparently it’s not uncommon for members of other species to grow up not knowing they’re not human, only to learn the hard way when their true nature asserts itself.
At least I don’t have to worry about that.
One thing that completely floored me was when she explained that eventually I’d be able to slow down my own ageing and decide how long I want to live. That led to the revelation that the other species are all naturally longer-lived, and when I just stared at her in shock, she calmly advised me that she was nearly four hundred and fifty. She looks my age. That’s something I’m going to need time to get my head around.
Alistair is waiting for me in the hallway, bouncing on his toes like he’s at the starting line of a race. “There you are! Come on, let’s go before Noah gets grumpy about waiting.”
I fall into step beside him and wonder if our temporary bro-hood allows me to ask personal questions. Screw it. “How old are you?”
He gives me a sideways look. “Xiao Wei told you about our lifespans, huh? I’m one hundred and eighty… something.” He frowns. “Eight, I think. I’m pretty sure. It might be nine. But I’m not a hundred and ninety yet, I know that.”
“Oh.” I would have guessed he was in his late twenties or early thirties.
He pats me on the shoulder as we approach the elevator. “Don’t worry so much about the numbers. Enjoy every minute of your life, and don’t be afraid to change things up. You said you teach kindergarten, right?”
That was something he and the others he introduced me to asked about earlier. “Yes.”
“Great! So keep doing that for as long as it brings you joy, and then you can find a new career if you want to. Retirement age isn’t going to come for a long time, so you can afford to spend time on things that aren’t going to provide for the future.” He jabs at the elevator call button. “You have the added benefit that you get to pick what your retirement age will be—Xiao Wei told you that, right? That magic-user humans can control their lifespans like elves and dragons?”
“She told me. I’d still have to learn how, and I don’t think my magic use is that advanced yet. Plus, I need to get my head around it. It’s not something I ever expected.”
The elevator doors open, and we wait for the people inside to get off before stepping in. Alistair presses the button for the ground-floor lobby, and as the doors close, he says, “I bet youcan say that about nearly everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours.”
A laugh escapes me, and I’m pleased by how genuine it is. I’m leaving shock behind and starting to feel more like myself. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“I heard you went to the hockey game last night. The Warhammers are pretty awesome, aren’t they?” He changes the subject, and it’s nice to talk about something mundane, even if the hockey players in question aren’t human.
