Her reflection’s bright eyes twinkled under dark messy bangs, her lips twisting into a light grin.
In the darkness before dawn, Karen stared blearily at the mirror, trying to put a finger on what was wrong. Her den was perfectly comfortable, no longer sweltering. She felt well rested, and looked healthy enough. Her familiar features with a sharp nose, almond eyes, and long dark hair were just as remembered, with the addition of scars across her shoulder and clavicle. True, the coloration looked odd, but that was simply the ultraviolet colours.
No, she looked perfectly normal, with the minor exception that she outweighed her reflection by a couple hundred pounds of wings, fur and feathers.
The revelation whipped the griffin into motion. She lunged upright off her nest, talons scraping the stone floor, and flared her wings across the entire room, loosing a deep menacing rumble.
“SOUTH!” Karen screeched, whirling around, pouncing restlessly. She knew telepathy when she felt it, and the only thing that had ever slipped into her mind so easily was the worst being in the world. “South Wing Spirit! Hunt! KILL! Kill!”
The spectre in the image tumbled over, a playful grin on her stolen face, a hand raised.
There was nothing behind the mirror, no trace of any intruder, foul or fowl. The griffin circled back, dragging her talons along her scratching post threateningly to mask her confusion. There was no mist, no pigeons, what was the nightmare spirit up to? How did you kill a reflection?
“QUERY?”
“Karen?” The deep dulcet tones of her sire announced the door’s opening. Orange light framed his solid silhouette as he blearily peered in. “What’s all the ruckus, kiddo? Bad dream?”
“South. Wing. Spirit.” She growled and chirped in Avian, stamping her talons as she looked back to glower at the mirror.
“Dreamt of the ghost thing, eh?” Pa tramped down, laying a reassuring hand at the crook of her shoulders as he looked at the mirror. “Well, try an’ rest, alright? It’s a school day.”
She glanced between him and the mirror, then circled round and butted him forwards- how blind was he!? It was so obvious.
“Query?” She chirped at the same time as her thoughts went,
“Yeah- hey now, I’m gettin’ back to bed, I’m workin’ too. Unless somethin’s up? You got a fever?”
Seraphina begged. Karen slowed- she’d forgotten she was wearing the witches pendant. It wasn’t burning hot or sweltering anymore. If anything, it felt pleasant. Perfect.
Suspicion whirled in her stomach. Spirits were bad. This reeked of lies and secrets. But if it was dangerous, did she want her sire in the room? She butted and scooted him him out, then flicked the door shut with her tail, predatory eyes locked on the reflection.
Caleb swam through her thoughts. Clawed and slashed. Weak. She shoved the image away.
Karen dragged her talons along the log by her nest, adding new deep gouges to the scratching post.
A new temptation fluttered within as Karen eyed her.
It wasn’t her. Not really. The more awake she grew, the more she recognized colouration. Seraphina’s pigments weren’t those you’d see in tawny skin- they were of flames and smoke, of fire itself. This was a spirit, a secret, something dangerous in ways she didn’t understand.
But how could she resist a genie’s offer?
What felt like a warm hand pushed against her throat, emanating from the ruby there. She saw Seraphina’s lips move, heard her voice, but it wasn’t truly words. Instead, the djinni broadcast what she was doing. De-stabilizing the physical form was a crucial first step in shapechanging, as was pushing the laws of mass aside when the change in size would be so significant. Images flickered, examples- pulling the lowest piece from a jenga tower, sweeping dust under a rug, folding napkin, cutting grass.
It was as if she was burning alive, with a slideshow capturing the process in excruciating detail.
She was being cut down to only two hundred and six bones. Her flesh was crisping, bubbling, shrinking and contracting. Her limbs were being aligned to minimise the changes needed- head to head, spine to spine, foreleg to hand, hindleg to foot. Her stomachs contents were being shunted somewhere. Her tail and wings were scorched away. Her scars and wounds resonated. And somewhere, something resonated, like a hundred hands trying to grip a mote of dust.
Karen lay, gasping and shuddering, on the garage floor. Something had stopped flowing. Something more vital, more fundamental than blood or air or electricity through the nerves. No, the heat of fire still warmed her and pulsed within the ruby at her neck, but it was more distant now, held back, being drawn back.
Five digits brushed the fiery gem, felt her skin and the rough edges of scars.
Karen gasped, sat up, and met the tawny brown skin and familiar features she’d known for so long, and bright white star-like eyes.
“Oh, yes- no freckles,” She sighed, bringing her hands up to sweep back, “And actual hair! Yes… wait… was that you, or me?”
“You actually did it.” Her hands stretched back, and Seraphina politely turned around, but no tail or feathers remained- she was purely human. “Are my eyes… really like that?”
She was perfect.
She still needed to groom though, so she stealthily nipped upstairs, and was in the shower before seven o’clock. Seraphina was silent, but some instinct drove her to turn the temperature up to the maximum, to near scalding temperatures. Yet she didn’t burn. She couldn’t burn while Seraphina’s gem was on her, that was a simple truth, and instead the heat felt blissful. Even just washing her hair fully after so long was a simple delight she’d missed.
Afterwards, she made it back downstairs to dry in privacy, with the djinni only speaking up once she was almost done.
“Lemme guess- blood?”
“What? It’s november, it’s freezing, and… I’m not into close-fit stuff, like leggings.” She admitted quietly.
“Which is?” She pulled older clothes from her shelves, smaller nostalgic items.
The question silenced her. What was the most human outfit? Did she even know what normal was? Logan had said her mind was a griffin through and through. What did Maddie wear? No, she favoured skirts for naga reasons. Emily? She rummaged through, debating clothes as Seraphina quietly demonstrated different combinations with a theatrical flair.
Eventually she opted for comfort. A tanktop, jersey baggy khaki jeans and her hair in its proper ponytail. The ruby she hid on her arm as she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and marched through to the kitchen.
It was a missed opportunity that she didn’t have a camera ready for her parents' reactions. Mom squealed, stamped her feet and kissed her forehead. Pa stood so quickly he spilled cereal everywhere, eyes wide, then faked a cough, and scooped her into an embrace, tears escaping. Ollie stared silently for a long moment, then wrestled his way into the hug, giggling as he felt the scars still lingering on her shoulder.
“Alright, that was… a more immediate result, than expected. Diana’s tutelage?” Pa wondered eventually, his big callused hand around her slender digits.
“Is it stable? Do you feel fine? Any vision issues?” Mom fussed, hand to her cheek.
“It’s not permanent. And it’s Diana’s work- not mine. Her example.” Karen said carefully, unable to meet their eyes but looking out the window. “One day I’ll manage this by myself. But it’s… complicated.”
Seraphina smiled at her from the window, eyes blazing especially bright.
“Karen. Communication. ‘Member, kiddo?” Pa stepped in the way firmly.
“Yeah, yeah- look there’s like six steps and I only kinda understand one or two of them, okay? And part of it is eating human food again. I’m serious, I’ve got a human stomach, I’m not eating only bacon, and Ollie’s got pancakes!” She argued, with Seraphina’s encouragement, and eventually won three pancakes with nutella for herself. Her appetite seemed unchanged, she still ate as much as Mom and Ollie combined, but the sweet chocolate was worth it after weeks without any.
* * * * * *
“Guess who?”
The gorgon glanced down at her, Olive’s perfect eyebrows peeking above her glasses. “Uh. Karen, right?”
“Wha- how’d you know?” She huffed, matching pace in the busy school corridors. The day hadn’t even started yet, but already she felt like whispers were following her every move- or maybe they were still on her scratching Grant yesterday.
“Uh, cos it’s you, meathead?” Olive shrugged, “Same scars, and you’ve been whining about short hair since I met you. Weeks at least.”
Karen turned up her nose, “Diana helped me out.”
“Sweet. Suits you, by the way, you look good.” She smirked as they entered the almost empty classroom. “Enjoy the attention. You had any thoughts about our enemy? Or Hana?”
“Uh, not really- might be able to use this? Or spike something with spare veil.” Karen considered, “No- Hana wasn’t in yesterday.”
“Yesterday? Try all last week. Haven’t seen her since Halloween. Is she okay?”
“How should I know?”
Olive shrugged, “You’re friends, right? Both Class C?”
“Not… not really,” She paused, “I don’t even know what she is. We didn’t talk about it- don’t look at me like that, it was nice not to talk about magic with someone. Olive, come on, she lives in RASA like you- don’t you know what’s up with her?”
“Do you know all the mystics in town? She’s super sneaky. That’s why I hoped she could help,” The gorgon girl’s serpentine hair writhed, before she swept it back. “Whatever. Sure, go for it, if you got an idea.”
Karen nodded, mind idly wondering where the other mystic girl had gotten to. Had she been injured on Halloween like Ollie? Or had something worse happened? But she’d only ever heard of a single death from the incident.
The arrival of other classmates soon drove such worries away, and she relished the differing reactions. There was no point in subtlety- she was in her seat, she was blatantly different again to some, familiar to others. Emily whooped and nearly tackled her, Mark, Anna and Owen seemed baffled, Maddie was giddy, Grant simply stared at her, and Logan….
Logan looked like she’d punched him in the gut. His eyes round, his jaw agape, his spidery fingers pushing hair back in consternation. Maybe it was because he was so knowledgeable, but Karen enjoyed his bewilderment the most- as did Seraphina, judging by the giddy cackle in her head.
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“How?”
She stood, letting her smile gleam, “Uh, like I said yesterday, Diana. She’s helped me out, gonna even teach me to do it myself.”
“You’re learning magic.” He repeated, slumping to sit on the desk, “You?”
“Oooooh, congrats, Karen!” Maddie hugged her, quick and close, “Really missed the hair, huh?”
“So much.” She squeezed her back, dark hair mingling with platinum blonde, then shifted to fix Logan with a grin, “Besides- I was already doing magic- my eyes, remember? That’s technically magic.”
“Technically.” Logan groaned.
“So what’s the issue with me doing magic?”
“This. You’re going to be insufferable. Or explode. Maybe both.” He stood with a gangly shrug. “Sorry. I’m… glad you made progress. Really. It’s just… I’ve always tried to help you.”
“I know- but you can’t teach me, you big beanpole, you’re younger than me. And I’m not learning from Matt, no way.” Karen grimaced, and offered him a fist, “Still friends?”
“Sure. Shrimp.” He wearily knocked his knuckles off hers, then turned to sit as she spied a blonde bob at the doorway. Irene’s arm was still in a sling, her ears studded with wide hoop earrings that could easily be yanked in a fight, and her nails impractically long. No, Karen swallowed her aggression, trying to focus- this was more like an ambush. A ploy.
“Shush,” Karen hissed, blinking as she met Irene’s pale eyes and watched them widen with shock. Perfect. But, no, she had to look weak. Had to seem scared. How did bipeds do that?
“Irene,” She breathed quietly, darting over to intercept the girl. Irene was tall and slender, she positively towered over this form, and Karen blinked as she whispered, “Look- pretend you still hate me- or whatever you were like with her, okay?”
“What?” The teen sneered, disgust warring with interest.
“I don’t know- there was someone else here. Something else. Pretending to be me.” She lied, “I didn’t expect… I only managed to get home yesterday, I think it’s been spooked off, but it’ll still be around.”
Irene narrowed her eyes, flicking from familiar tawny face, to petite frame, to the wrong shoulder. “That beast wasn’t you- how do I know you’re the real Karen? Why’re you telling me?”
“Because you’re the smartest in our class. And I know you’re human.” Her stomach roiled with the lie. She was in easy range, in a hunt that was all that was needed. But this wasn’t a hunt for blood, this was like… herding. Tricking the false witch into doing something stupid.
A smug, self satisfied smirk slipped naturally over Irene’s face. “Well, you’re absolutely correct. The real you, right? Excellent, I offered that horror my help, and she spat it in my face but I’ve just got one quick question.”
“I’m not sure we can talk properly here- I think that kid’s a mystic, he might be listening,” She nodded to Logan, who was muttering something to Maddie, the pair sitting very close. Behind them, Olive looked positively uninterested, but she thought she spied a glance beneath the dark glasses.
“It’s a quickie, I swear,” Irene whispered, bending close, “See, I’m real curious, what’s that aura on your arm?”
Karen froze. Irene wasn’t magic. She couldn’t just guess based on bogus aura nonsense, could she? No, that was ridiculous, she was as much of a witch as Karen was. Which, admittedly, included hosting a spirit, while Irene had stupidly been convinced the Bad Egg was her familiar.
“Probably all these scars,” She shrugged her left shoulder out of the jersey, bundling the material around the ruby on her right arm. “That’s like a… trauma, aura thing, right?”
“You really think humans are idiots, don’t you?” Irene scoffed, straightening to her full height, one taloned finger wiping her eye, “Your scars match, your aura matches, and for the second day in a row you’re throwing around a different stench of magic here. Hmm? That’s right, we know you’re planning something, we’re not gonna let you hurt anyone else here.”
She glowered up at her. This was stupid. This had been stupid. Don’t show weakness, it was always a mistake. But Grant was across the room, out of reach, he wouldn’t be able to react before she pounced.
“You’re so wrapped up in delusions, it’s not even funny.” Karen stepped back, “It’s just sad.”
Olive slumped her face into her hands and Grant watched seriously, before cutting over to whisper with Irene, the pair glancing over repeatedly. The tension lingered even as Mrs Conelly took the register and started chatting, Karen’s mind was ablaze.
“Some. Idiots. Maybe three or four.” The faces of Sebastian, Jamie, and Grant swam through her mind.
Karen rolled her eyes. That was embarrassing, but probably not inaccurate, she was practically perfect. Even so, she tried to ignore the musings on romance and parties, and hoped the djinni would eventually get bored.
* * * * *
“I don’t know. It’s school. Gotta be here.” Karen muttered, glancing from notebook to board wearily.
“My parents would kill me.” She whispered. If they found out at least. But she couldn’t truly argue with the djinni- she was technically her magic teacher after all. And it was a glorious clear day, a waste to be sitting inside, full of energy and warmth, “Just let me… what would I even…”
“Miss Thomson!” Mr Thorne snapped sternly, “Something to say?”
“I… uh… I think I need to go, sir.” She stood, pushing herself to exude confidence. She grabbed her book and bag, and strode to the door.
“Go? Where do you think you’re going?”
“Sir. Last couple times I managed to get my old face back it lasted maybe half an hour. Today it’s been four hours. Which is great, but nobody wants this spell to break at school.” She snapped back at him, hushed and urgent.
“Ah.” Mr Thorne read the words as she intended, “So, you’re not fixed?”
Karen felt her fists tighten with sudden rage. What needed fixed? She wasn’t broken, she was perfect, any blind moron ought to be able to see that. Suddenly she longed for her claws, her eyes, her wings, but they didn’t come. And she oughtn’t be wasting time on him.
“No, can’t last the day.” The words escaped her throat dripping with tension, and she stormed past him without care, “Bye!”
Mr Thorne was part way through some instruction to get home safely when she slammed the door and rushed down the corridor, fury fuelling her speed until she hit the stairs.
“Asshole.” She muttered, dropping her voice to avoid echoes, “Sera. Give me my eyes…. I need to sell it to get out.”
Her fist slammed on the bannister, “Come on!”
Within her fist, abruptly, were two feathers of a familiar deep grey, each longer than a quill. “Did… am I going to miss these?!”
It was hard to argue with that, so she focussed on repeating the performance for Mrs Matherson at the office. They took it downright tragically, and one squealed when she “found” a feather in her sleeve, as if her transformation was imminent. That was all it took, and within a couple minutes she was outside, without even a phonecall. So much the better, she wasn’t sure if she could lie to her parents- though technically, there was a real risk that Seraphina might just turn her into a griffin out of boredom, so it was barely even a lie.
“Mostly, yeah.”
“Well, PE for starters, they let you do gymnastics and shit.”
Karen didn’t respond. She just pitched her leg, dropped her bag, raised her arms, and careened forwards. Her fingers took the weight, momentum pushing her on, upright and into a second cartwheel just for good measure.
Infernal applause echoed in her mind.
“Jumpo- you mean a trampoline? Yeah, it’s easy. You’ve not seen anything yet.” She smirked, “I can do double flips, easy. Though, I can do them airborne too, so…”
“Home’s locked up- Mom and Pa are at work, Ollie’s with one of the neighbours. So, gotta be elsewhere till like… four, or I’m grounded.” She considered, “So jumpoline later. And maybe not too close around town, or they might spot me.”
“Seriously Sera? You’ve met them. Or Diana has.” Karen snorted, “Mom’s at the library, Pa drives around, does joinery work. So he could kinda be anywhere. But for now, lunch.”
A couple sausage rolls was enough fuel for this body, but she grabbed a brownie at Sera’s insistence and ambled down to the lakeshore. It was a grey bleak day, overcast under the clouds, and probably chilly. But with the ruby at her shoulder, it felt balmy enough to shrug off her jersey, tie it round the waist and watch the clouds. With almost no wind, the lake was a vast mirror, broken only by some distant islands, and a couple boats moored at the dock, normally reserved for the summertime.
Karen hopped down from the embankment there onto the stony beach, brushing crumbs off her hands as the pebbles clacked beneath her shoes. Here and there, she spied more distinct stones, and plucked them up, savouring the weight in her hand. Then, she raised a foot and planted it heavily, twisted her hips and whipped her arm forwards. The stone lashed out like a meteor, and plopped into the water unceremoniously.
“Cos I’m right handed,” Karen stuck her tongue out, then repeated the process with a second stone, lashing her right arm forwards to see the stone bounce once, then twice, before sinking. “HA! See!”
“Oh, like how we drive on the right side of the road?”
“So you are british?” Karen frowned, weighing her third stone before resuming the walk, eyes keen for other promising pebbles. “I thought genies were like… arabian?”
“Not really,” She kept walking with a curious glance, “Wouldn’t that be bad for you?”
“Not as good as a mermaid- but that wouldn’t count.”
“Aren’t you a fire spirit?” Karen snorted, chucking a handful of poor stones out.
“Not here. I… know a place I’d dip my feet in.” Karen considered, turning over one final stone in her grasp. “But I’ve got questions.”
She stumbled halfway through her throw. “What? Like… blow up? Like Logan said?”
Karen set her feet, drew her arm back, spine twisting and adjusting for balance. Then span, a rapid twist that transferred all momentum into the stone, setting it bouncing again, and again and again and again in a glorious path across the lake, like a comet through the cloudy sky.
Once she was done celebrating, she left the shoreline and hiked up along a familiar trail, into the woods. It was truly quiet out, her senses idly listened to the chirps of birds oblivious to the apex predator present, though the sound of cooing did make her flinch once. Even stranger, there were no reflections, no visible echo of her appearance- just the sense of her own body, hair brushing her shoulders, jeans tracking around her legs.
“Alright,” She muttered eventually once the silence lost its appeal, “Do you know much about other spirits?”
Karen digested this, hurdling over a fallen tree, “You met any near town?”
Seraphina sighed, heat flaring in her head near hot enough to give a migraine.
“That’s what I want to know about- it’s this gross winged thing, the Bad Egg- uh, or the Siren? Or X-19? Look, this,” Karen scrunched up her face as she focussed on the telepathy, not in words this time, but a picture. The rancid swarms of pigeons, the cloying cold fog, the crooning voice and baleful orange eye, the skeletal frame of rotten flesh and five ragged wings.
“It’s just meat.” She sniffed, “Do you don’t know anything?”
Karen kicked some fallen leaves on the trail, “Come on. Sera. You know I don’t know what those are.”
“Not out here- you want me to google greek spirit’s names?”
“I dunno, Dr Morris called it that- and Irene.” She grimaced, “Urgh, she’s got to know something. Any advice on killing spirits? Or are you going to tell me to leave that to the professionals?”
“Reckon the pigeons are it’s binding? I’ve killed dozens of them.” She considered, ears perking up at the sounding of flowing water. “Yeah you can. Bloodloss.” Karen battered a couple of branches aside, and stepped past. “I’ve got a good memory of swimming here. Can’t beat it,” Maybe it was because it had been sealed for so long that the memory was so clear. She could almost see her younger self in the water, wide eyed as Maddie dove in in all her mermaid glory. So keen and trusting, just giggling with her best friend as all the pieces clicked together, and the secret didn’t mean paranoia, lies or betrayal, but just a stronger bond. If that wasn’t human, what was? Seraphina blinked, her white eyes fluttering in the distorting water, and gave a soft smile. Then she bounced up, grinning wildly, hair loose, “Nah, this is enough,” Karen shook her head, gathered her legs, and leapt forwards. Her hands grabbed the hanging rope easily, and legs curled close as she swung clear across the stream, then leaned back, savouring the momentum. For a moment, everything felt perfect. Then the branch above snapped, and she abruptly dropped into the pool with a scream, followed by gnarled rope and the splash of the broken branch.