Page 48 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
Bristol spotted Mae making her way down the center of the bridge like she owned it, but as Street Mother, Mae seemed to think she owned the whole city. Maybe she did. Bristol remembered passing over this bridge on her first day in Elphame—how the sights had fascinated and overwhelmed her. The grand towers, homes, and gardens teetering on top of one another, jammed together like a jeweled puzzle, and the many filigreed balconies filled with all manner of fae, sipping their precious drinks and observing the chaotic crowds below.
Now she was one of those fae, watching from above, sipping her own mysterious smoky drink, mostly unafraid of Mae now. Across the bridge from them on a lower balcony, a brightly dressed faun plucked out a tune on a fiddle, the notes bouncing in the air in time with the bustle below. She looked over at Rose, whose cheeks were practically glowing.
“Is this what it’s like being a hawk?” Bristol asked. “Taking everything in at once?”
“Yes,” Rose answered dreamily, “but even better, because you’re soaring far above it all, completely weightless and apart. It’s hard to describe how heady it is.”
“How old were you the first time you shifted?” Julia asked.
“Only four. It was an accident. My parents panicked because they couldn’t get me to change back. We were in a small flat in Hampstead at the time, and I darted through the rooms, batting into walls and furniture—but they didn’t dare open a door. They finally found a sorcerer in the city who guided me back to human form.”
“That’s so young!” Julia said. “I didn’t even know I could shift until I was thirty, and didn’t master it until I was forty. How about you, Hollis? When was your first time?”
Hollis shrugged sheepishly. “A year ago?”
There was a burst of surprised reactions.
“I mean, I knew I could before that. I had partially turned for years, a furry ear here, a long tail there. Whiskers. But I was terrified to fully change, afraid I’d never be able to change back.” She explained that her mother passed when she was in college, and she only knew a handful of fae in Seattle, none of them shape-shifters, so she had no one to ask for guidance. “There was a little fae bookstore in town—just a back room, really—so I read everything I could about shifting, and finally took a chance in the safe confines of my apartment. It was exhilarating. But I never did it in public until I came here.”
“Really? I never would have guessed!” Sashka said. “You do it so gracefully. Those cute little turns and hops.”
“What does it feel like to be something else?” Avery asked. “Do you still feel like yourself?” The questions made Bristol’s heart race, but when Hollis began answering, she found herself leaning in, not wanting to miss a word.
“No,” Hollis answered. “You don’t feel like yourself at all. First of all, every part of you moves so differently. Every muscle. Every twitch. Even your tongue feels odd inside your mouth. And your senses are different too. I can’t see as well, but my whiskers tell me everywhere I need to turn. And scent! Gods! I can tell exactly how many minutes a loaf of bread has been out of the oven, and how far away a ripe strawberry is. But I can smell the bad things too, like danger and fear, and sometimes, I think, death that hasn’t even arrived yet. It’s a cold, dank smell.”
“But do you think the same?” Bristol asked. “Do you rememberwhoyou are?”
“Yes, mostly, but you don’t want to. You want to fully sink into who and what you are, to feel the fur on your belly, and the tap of your tiny claws on the earth. The feel of your tail sliding behind you, adding a strange balance you’ve never felt before. When you change, something calls to you to forget your other self, and only live in the moment of who you are in that place and time. At least, that’s how it is for me.”
Julia nodded. “It’s seductive, the incredible power you feel, the new instincts that overtake you. Once, when we were visiting the Kalahari, I changed for two full months and nearly forgot who I used to be. My aunt had to coax me back.”
“Yes,” Rose agreed. “The power and freedom enchant you, but probably no less than returning to human form enchants you again. I guess balance is the key, like playing a piece on the piano, performing the melody with one hand and the accompaniment with the other. You need both hands.”
“Beautifully expressed, Rose,” Julia said.
“Yes, beautiful,” Hollis agreed.
But Bristol’s mind was dwelling on other words, Jasmine’s words:profound changes. There was nothing beautiful in the way she said them. Instead, her words were thick with warning.
The server arrived with a final platter, filled with the prettiest chocolate meringue rose cookies dusted with shimmering sugar flakes. Hollis groaned, holding her stomach, but the cookie roses were too enticing, and they all took one.
“I’m never going to be able to eat dinner tonight,” Avery complained, licking sugar from her fingers.
Sashka moaned. “I forgot about dinner with the ingrate. And we can’t be late, or he might go into another meltdown.”
“Yes, the sooner we get it over with, the better,” Julia said.
“I’m kind of looking forward to watching him grovel,” Hollis mused. “This could be fun.”
Avery scoffed. “It’s only an apology.Sorry. One word. That won’t take much groveling.”
“Unless we drag it out,” Rose replied, her eyes full of mischief.
Julia laughed, and put her hand to her ear, pretending she was talking to Cael. “What’s that, Your Majesty? I can’t hear you. Say it again? A little louder! Preferably on your knees.”
Sashka clapped her hands. “I am so doing that.”
Bristol was actually looking forward to the apology too. Maybe this time Cael would have more finesse than with his last botched attempt, when he accused her of casting a spell on Tyghan, but she thought about what he said too:Fear and anger have ruled my small world for months now. Maybe she shouldn’t judge him based on his first day of freedom.
