The griffin danced freely through the night. She rose then dove, battling through the pain of her wing, and the anger gnawing inside. The wind washed her like a river, stripping away the nausea of imprisonment, the guilt of mistakes, the fury of betrayal. All of that was left behind as she spiralled above the lake, strong and free of the long bitter car journey.

No doubt Pa would lecture her not to stay out too late after all that had happened. But he could track her easily enough with whatever device OAR used, so who cared? Karen banked in a wide arc, stretching her muscles to their fullest as she turned away from town. Only scattered lights from homes and lodges in the mountains occupied the other side. And a flaming comet that shot up towards her, screeching eagerly.

“Flamewing!” Karen matched the ecstatic tone, bursting into quick flaps to meet the phoenix.

“Stormwing!” Diana warbled, her crest shining bright and golden in her own radiance, her long tail feathers shining and clean, “Good greetings!”

“Past bad! Fly good!” Her Avian language felt rusty, but Karen was fairly certain she chirped the right combinations as they spiralled. “Race! Cloud-break, Water-touch!”

The resplendent phoenix witch chimed with amusement, and she imagined the image of golden hands curling as if made of flame. Then came a burst of heat and she rocketed upwards, weaving her own magical thermal in a blatant display of unsportsmanlike behaviour. Karen powered after her, air sacs working like a bellows as the atmosphere chilled and thinned, and clouds drew near. The foggy atmosphere made her talons itch, half-wishing the Siren would offer a target to maim, but her desire to outshine Diana was keener still. The clouds slowed the fire-witch and her djinni spirit, they disliked water, but Karen simply let the rain roll off her coat, drifting east to west, searching for a thermal to ease her work. Not likely, but not impossible, she found one too late as she breached the heavens, and drank in the star strung beauty above it all.

“Flamewing one!” Diana crowed triumphantly, a dozen metres above. Her golden eyes glittered with amusement before the elegant bird dove down past like a falling star. The griffin mimicked her, twisting over backwards to roll and tumble back through the clouds. Down, down, down, the moisture was blinding to all save gravity, yet that was all she needed.

Below them, she had a scarce few seconds to tense her tail, straighten her back, and align herself. The scattered criss-cross lights of Ranelk and RASA hemmed the edges of her vision, while the great black of the lake filled the centre. How far off was she? Opening her wings too late would be death. Too soon, would be defeat. Yet the line dividing them was glorious life.

She watched Diana streak ahead, and opened her wings in sync with the smaller avian mystic. A scream tore from her throat, excitement blending into pain as her wing’s wound flared with agony, and set her off kilter. Karen flapped, twitched her trail, tried to balance and throw her momentum to the horizontal. Icy water splashed against her paws and furthest feathers, and she forced through, onwards and up into an extraneous loop, before staggering onto the beach with a frustrated growl.

“Bravo!” A brisk british voice, that of the Djinni Sera, echoed from somewhere, “But the victor is…” A brilliant explosion came as the phoenix landed, blinding flames twisting into a beaming feminine shape, that filled out with bones, flesh and clothes, “Flamewing Diana!”

“She did a very impressive try though,” Diana half-defended her, but couldn’t hide the cheer on her lips, “We’re going to need to practise if you keep improving, Karen.”

“Good fly,” The griffin stumbled and butted her head against Diana.

“Hehehe, awww, we missed you too.” The witch- or her spirit- giggled, and warm hands scritched her neck, “Damn bipeds, messing with you, terrified of your majesty- are you bleeding? Where from? Show me.”

There was no hiding it, so Karen lifted her right wing, fanning it with a tired growl. “Biped weapon.”

“They stabbed her? No? Shot?” Diana snarled, hands burning hot.

“Yes. Lion. Mystic.”

“Shot again!?” It felt good to hear the sheer rage in her mentor’s voice, “Those toad-brained troglodytes! A lion mystic- fanged, horned, Noah? Tch, damn coward! All his bravado and pride, and he’s using firearms? Gutless, treacherous scaredy cat!”

Karen added a few avian curses and curled close, hugging wings tight around the stellar heat of her mentors.

“Hey, careful- don’t want to burn you. They didn’t steal your amulet? No. Good.” Diana sat, running fingers gently through dark feathers. “Need to talk? I could grab spare clothes- or let my friend in?”

Her fingers danced across her own amulet, the ruby holding Sera’s essence, and Karen eyed it hungrily. The djinni was fun, understanding, and warded off the winter chill like nothing else. But there was plenty she couldn’t share- what about Ollie? Would the witch keep his slaughter a secret?

“No. Tired.”

“I see, no wonder. Well, hold still. I don’t do this often, but you are our favourite apprentice, so let’s make sure you don’t bleed out, hmm?” Diana ran both hands along her wing, one on either side, until she cupped the bloody bulletwound between them. Then came a flash of heat, pain, and change. “There- I’ve… cauterised it, but no diving for a few days, alright? Hey, hey, off you trot, Stormwing, I’m not spending the whole night petting you!”

She made it difficult for her source of heat to escape, then yawned and turned her gaze home. The familiar comfort of her nest had been sorely missed, so Karen flew back with long leisurely motions, until she circled lazily above home. Then it was a simple matter to glide down and land in the backyard with only a few gruesome gouges through the lawn- but what was grass for?

Besides, it had been a basically soundless landing, and she padded to the door only to bristle at the clamour of raised voices.

“...she said it was an accident!” her sire sounded strained, tired, exhausted.

“Yes- she said!” Her mother’s tone was sharp and brittle as glass, “Ernest, be reasonable- you know she’s been lying to us. You said she wasn’t even honest in court. What does that mean? What if she loses again- or what if she didn’t lose control at all?!”

“Sylvia, darlin’, you’re bein’ paranoid.”

“Am I? She butchered a horse and… and they don’t even know what she did to Mother. No injures but… what magic does she know? Curses? That necklace?” Mom’s voice wavered, “I thought she wanted magic to… fix herself, to go back to normal… not… this.”

“It’s tough. From what the Tohaken’s said, she’s way ahead of where they’d expect. But… not controlled. Her pal, Logan, thinks Karen’s a jinx or some such. Doesn’t mean she means any harm.”

“She doesn't need to be malicious to be dangerous, we should’ve seen that sooner. Come on, it’s just a lock Ernest. She’ll be asleep, we can all sleep safe, and Ollie needs to-”

Her growl gave her away. Karen cursed her temper as the conversation vanished like rats under light, then blundered in the front door. She spied her parents in the lounge, her sire’s toolbox close at hand, but there was no lock on her den. Not yet at least, he had some faith in her. But not enough to tell her about the tracker, despite all her bitter questioning for the drive home.

The griffin swiped a couple of claw marks on the log in her long garage room, then circled on the nest. She relished this place- the familiar scent, the comfortable textures, the wider space, the warm temperature. She was home. Wasn’t that enough?

* * * * *

Dimness. Sound at the door.

Karen roused quickly, lashing her tail, wings flexing tentatively so as to not bang against the walls of her cell. They half unfurled with ease, as her mind blearily stumbled towards a conclusion. She was home, she was safe, and the sound was sobbing. The griffin slunk to the door, its handle marred by scratches, and added another one. It wasn’t locked, but swung quietly to reveal her brother and mother huddled on the stairs.

“Shush, shush, you’re okay, you don’t need to disturb her…” Mom murmured, hugging him tight. Then her eyes caught the dark leonine shape, backlit by orange streetlights, and she flinched, scrabbling back. Ollie slipped free, recoiling at the sudden motion, before blinking at her.

“Don’t do that.” Mom hissed, “Giving me a heart att- urgh… go to bed. Everyone.”

Karen stared indignantly. The woman hadn’t even welcomed her home. Why listen to her? Ollie stumbled downstairs to slump against her feathered shoulders, wiping away tears soundlessly.

“No- Oliver, give her space, she’s… she’s still getting used to being home. Leave her be. Ollie.” Mom urged, then sharpened her voice as if with a whetstone, “Oliver, back upstairs now.”

He straightened her feathers, then quietly paced up to his room. The woman fled her presence in short order, breathing quick and cheeks wet with tears. Karen watched them as quietly as she could, thoughts whirling. Then she curled back up in her nest to sleep.

* * * *

Morning brought little to relieve the new tension. She got the day off, in the hopes it would calm her down, and Karen was in no mood to argue about that. There were more important things to handle.

Shape-changing was a natural first step, although one she was slightly out of practice with. Karen meditated on her most human aspects, forged the simulacrum in her mind, called the magic through her, channelled the mass away, maintained her consistency, endured the agony, and failed. Then she tried again, and failed again.

It was past noon when she emerged from the shower, Veiled and tense, drying off the short hair with a scowl. Pa had left much of a fry up, and she took the last plate upstairs to find him working on the bedroom doors, hands covered in sawdust.

“Going to lock me out?”

“You heard.” He grumbled, turning a screwdriver. “Your mother’s spooked, kiddo. Don’t be harsh on ‘er, she loves Gramma. And you do too.”

Karen snorted, tearing a sausage apart, “What if I have a nightmare and need to come see you in the night though?”

“Then you knock.” Pa gave a level look, “No luck shapechangin’?”

“No- it’s almost like I don’t fully know what’s inside my body. Like.. there might be some nanobots or… microchips sewn inside me.” She rubbed the scars of her shoulder, “Where’s my report, Pa?”

“In your file, with your passport and birth certificate. You can read it, I’ve censored that part.”

“Paaa!” Karen hopped past, rooting in his filing drawer to extract the wad of papers, the details of her tracker firmly inked out. “Asshole- why can’t you tell me!?”

“Because you’re actin’ like a kid who’ll injure herself bloody tryin’ to rip it out!” He bellowed, and she winced. “Let’s calm down. Buggin’ me isn’t goin’ to get you anythin’ besides a tired old Pa. Play it patient, make me believe you won’t be reckless, and I’ll tell you. I promise.”

She dropped the folder and slipped past, kneeling down to hug him, head bumping off his. “Okay, sorry. I won’t hurt myself removing it.”

“Your actin’ needs work.” He returned the embrace and stole a rasher of bacon from her plate. “Go crash, enjoy the day. You’ll have plenty of work comin’ up.”

“Traitor.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

* * * * *

The lake was calm, reflecting the white crowns of the mountains high above, and blue frigid sky higher still. Barely a breeze blew, and yet their tree creaked with a quiet rhythm as Ollie kicked his legs. Karen perched a little lower, some eight feet above the stony beach that held their bags, and eyed the thinner branches enviously. Her true form might have a chance at scaling the slender branches to surpass him, but not this veiled one.

“You can talk, squirt.” She grumbled, “I’m not going through with this if you play silent the whole time.”

“About what?” He sounded hoarse, didn’t look away from the stick he was fidgeting with, “You promised to help. Then vanished.”

“Yeah, to get information!”

“You hurt Gramma.”

“I did not- that was… accidental. And she scratched me!” Karen shot back, “Don’t get on my ass about this or I’m chucking you in, pest.”

“You’d fall too.” He inched cautiously along the high branch, leaves gently falling to the water below.

“I can swim.” She breathed and leaned back, taking in the scene. It was a quiet stretch of shore, a familiar one not far from town where Pa had thrown them in the summer. An easy place to rendezvous with Ollie once she was ready, though eye contact would have been preferable. “Look, I… know it went badly, but I went cos I figured some major stuff out. Big secrets. You understand? No snitching.”

“Yeah. Big secret. Big surprise.”

Why were teenagers such pains? Karen inhaled and took a final wary glance before speaking quietly.

“Basically, Gramma Veena was a griffin. We’re… I guess, quarter griffin, or an eighth?”

“Eighth?”

“Well she’s kinda half human. She was born a pure griffin, lived taking Veil or… flying around indian jungles or whatever. Didn’t get much detail. Then she got turned human, permanently. Which is seriously hard- none of the mages I know can do that. She mentioned some names, but the gist was that… changing species is so intense that she lost all her griffin memories and got locked in human shape, with amnesia. Then… the spell got passed down, maybe warped, until it started to come undone.”

Ollie listened with wide eyes, a frown cracking his stoicism, “Her stroke- is she turning back? How old do griffins live?!”

“Don’t think so? I don’t know, I’ll ask Alastair,” Karen mused, “But, right now, the spell’s totally undone in me. Griffin form. But you’re not that far along… for now. Sooner or later, you might get enough magic to change permanently, and then people will put two and two together- young griffin, found on Halloween near… They nearly sent me to a mystic prison for headbutting a cop, Ollie, I don’t want you locked away.”

“No- it was an accident.” He whispered, “Can you stop it?”

“Maybe.” She winced, then slipped down, landing on the stony shore, “Look… how’ve you been feeling?”

“Fine.” Ollie looked away.

“Bad. Empty? Hollow? Scared?”

“Fine.”

“Bro.” Karen sighed, “You’ve got the instincts. I can see it. Trying to get high, going after my nest, the crowds, the pride. But… a lot of shapechanging is about identity. If you focus on being human, on… I dunno, woodcarving, your dumb pals, and stupid chess, then that’s all away from the griffin side of you.”

“That’s it?” The young boy looked down at her, “Act normal? Like.. like nothing happened?”

“It’s one.” She hesitated. “The other’s… worse. And better. But it’s a big secret, understand?”

“Secrets on secrets.”

“Don’t sass me, I’m telling you. There’s a mage who can seal memories. If… if we seal your memories of halloween, then you’d forget what you did, the whole griffin experience, it’d all be… locked away. No more blood, no more nightmares.”

“So I’d forget you were my sister?”

“What? No. Ollie, we live together, what’d that accomplish?”

“Aaaw.” He sighed, then ducked a stick she threw, “Hey!”

“Don’t sass, I’m being a great big sister.” Karen shot, “Think it through. And come down, I’ve got to… check something.”

He slipped down as she opened her bag, and extracted a small ventilated box, the weight unsteady in her grasp. Karen licked her lips nervously, then gave him a quick smile, “Just, do whatever, okay?”

“Right?” Ollie knelt down, hands half guarding his face. Then the box flicked open, and two small white mice scampered free across the stones. The boy watched them with a frown, the tiny vermin twitching, twisting, then darting feverishly for the cover of the trees. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. How’d you feel?”

“You lost brain cells in prison?”

“I wasn’t in prison- I was in jail, there’s a difference.” Karen scoffed, “So- what, no urge to hunt them? No hunger?”

“No?” Ollie blinked, then grimaced, face twisting with shaking breath, “Ew, it’d be… bloody. Why bring two?”

“One for each of us.”

He stood with a handful of stones, “You didn’t pounce?”

“No. I thought maybe I’d feel like killing it. But it’s barely a bite, too easy, that’s cub prey.” Karen closed her bag, and plucked up a couple of pebbles herself. “Now… I dunno.”

Ollie threw a stone, too quick, sending it piercing into the water.

“I enjoyed killing the horse.” She admitted, bracing her legs as she chose her stone. “It felt right. Like nailing a whole routine, or winning a game, you know?”

“You’re not a mouse.”

“Yeah.” She whirled around, sending her stone skimming to bounce once, twice, three times across the lake. “Ha! Yes. Think I’d like to hunt. Find and choose my prey. Bring it down. Enjoy the fresh hea-”

“Shush.” Ollie blanched, suddenly tense.

“Sorry.” Karen pulled him into a hug, slightly surprised. Was it stranger that he didn’t enjoy the thought of blood and gore? Or stranger that she did?

* * * * *

“Coffee or hot chocolate, Miss Thomson? I’m afraid I can’t spare enough blood for your appetite.” Mattchitehew Tohaken gave a thin smile as he waved steam aside.

Karen clenched her jaw, feeling the weight of her amulet on her ankle, “None. Disagrees with me now.”

“Even coffee? Hm, probably for the best, you’re quite energetic enough.” Matt shrugged, “Water it is.”

“You don’t need to give me a drink. I’m here to talk.” She swallowed, “For… a favour.”

“It’s a matter of hospitality.” He explained, poking in and out of the lodge’s kitchen. It looked like a bombsite, almost imperceptibly different from the mage’s laboratory he and Logan kept, but with colourful cereals and an abundance of jerky. “A symbol. Of there being guest and host in this situation. Civility. Not enmity, not predator and prey. But two sapient mortals talking together- see, coming straight from the kettle, no veil, no tricks.”

She watched him pour, took a glass, then gingerly perched on one battered couch. Matt conjured something dark and bitter smelling, limped into the large timber lounge and slumped his sparse frame in the other, before raising an eyebrow. “So. What’re you after this time?”

It hurt to ask. She started. Stopped. Sipped. Swallowed. Simmered. Spoke. “You… can seal memories right?”

“That’s correct. An illegal magic. I’ve been condemned to limit my activities to merely crafting Veil.” His lips twisted, more from irritation than from the drink. “As you know full well. Don’t beat around the bush, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Thought we were being civil.” Karen scoffed. “Fine. Is it safe to talk or are you bugged as well as tracked?”

“Rather safe. The kids are off scaring anything that hopes to hibernate.”

“Alright. Could you erase- urgh, seal- an evening for me?”

“Hmm, our trip down to Grandma went that poorly, hmm?” Matt smirked, “I’d hate to act contrary to your beliefs, however. Out of respect, I don’t think I should even have this conversation, since you hold so tightly against mental magics.”

“Wha- that was different, Logan didn’t get a choice- and I basically saved your life!”

“Endangering someone then backing out, does not constitute gratitude.” He lectured, “An apology is due. Then we can talk.”

She closed her eyes. What was at stake? Ollie in the Dungeon. Her brother’s humanity stripped away. Condemned as a murderer, a monster. That ought to be an easy calculation, and yet it still twisted her tongue to mutter, “Fine. Apologies for assaulting you. Mr Tohaken.”

“That’s quite alright. Now, I am aware of what I seal, so… what has you so anxious as to realise my wisdom? From what I heard, you had some incident with your grandmother, a horse and a policeman?”

“It’s… urgh, it’s not for me. It’s my brother. Oliver.” Karen turned, drawing the curtains only to note irritably that they were quite singed and burnt in one corner. Stupid dragons. “He… on halloween… he… he turned into a griffin too. Beside… right next to the boy. Caleb. He panicked… and… and…”

“Ah.” Matt’s shoulders slumped, and he gave a small nod. “Breathe. Take your time.”

“I-I don’t know how long he’s got. Before someone puts it together- or before he changes, like I did. They’ll lock him away. In the Dungeon- Hugh told me about it.” She choked back tears, unwilling to face him, “But if he forgets- if he doesn’t know. Then there’s no evidence. He won’t change. He won’t confess. He’ll be safe.”

“A solid deduction.” The mage stood, glancing over at a half torn elk head. “I can’t disagree with it. You’re growing up, Miss Thomson. More than my nephew.”

“This doesn’t mean I think you’re less of a monster. Don’t act like you’re cool! We’re not friends.”

“Time wounds all heels.” He sighed. “Very well. I can do this- does Oliver know, or…”

“He knows. I can bring him.” She swallowed, “Sometime Logan’s not here.”

“I see, he’d disagree. It’d be our little secret. But magic isn’t cheap, Miss Thomson,” Matt took a long draught, “I’ll need a certain something in return, as payment.”

“My amulet?”

He coughed as if choking, and thumped a fist to his narrow chest, before spluttering into a nervous laugh. “Karen! No- no, you need that- and I have three dragons! That’s like offering to sell a dairy farmer some milk.”

“Diana said it was real valuable.”

“It is. Treasure it. But knowledge is more valuable still. So that’s my price. Your knowledge of Diana’s magic, her source, what she’s taught you. It’s a good deal.”

“It’s betraying her!” She snarled. Of course. Of course he’d demand his rival’s secrets. The inevitability of the request made it no less shocking, like falling through ice to discover the water was indeed cold. Of course he’d ask her to betray her mentor- he’d sold his clients down the river to OAR.

“That secret then.” Matt nodded, “You’ve thought of one already- your brother’s worth that, surely?”

“What I’ve thought of, is how untrustworthy and gutless you are!” Karen glowered at him, wishing looks could kill. “What happened to mages keeping trust? I’m meant to just ditch that?”

“Oh, you can walk away. You proposed this,” said Matt as he straightened the taxidermy’s antlers, “But you came to me, and not Diana. You told me of this killing, and not her.”

“You’re the mind mage.”

“True- but you didn’t consult your mistress.” He turned, “As for trust, you know I could take that knowledge if I was so inclined. I’m asking for a fair trade. So, decide, yes or no, and move on.”

Karen flinched, “Now!?”

“Yes, before Logan comes home from school.”

“That’s not fair,” She winced, hands tracing through her short hair. She couldn’t just betray Sera. Break the word and promise she’d made to become their apprentice. Could she? Could she leave the djinni at risk of greedy mages and worse, to be used as a glorified battery? But, then, Matt had the dragons, so surely he’d not need that.

What if he told others? She paced. He was a private individual. He wouldn’t just do that, would he? What if he was bribed, the information had a cost? No, he was serving a sentence, money wasn’t the biggest factor. As far as homes went, he seemed to be doing as well as one could with that many kids in the house. What would he want? Power? Fame? Freedom?

Her eyes traced the small disturbance at his ankle, the lock tethered there. If he could use the knowledge to slip free, wouldn’t he?

“Why’d you take the kids in?” Karen murmured, “Why not… just pass them off to someone else?”

“An evil heart is still a heart.” Matt chuckled, “They’re what my brother left behind. So… I have to try.”

She shook her head, paced to the door and paused on the threshold. Her word to Diana and Sera was worth it, wasn’t it? What was the alternate plan? He’d just have to learn to live with it. Scared of blood. Quiet. Living a mask, a lie, like Maddie had to.

“Diana’s a phoenix.” She began, heart sinking. “So she’s got some innate magic- like if the dragons learned magecraft, I guess. And then her… partner, is a Djinni. A fire spirit, not a literal wish granting disney thing. Her name’s Sera, she’s a mystic, not a tool. She’s real cocky. She can draw power from fire- brags that she stopped the blaze on Halloween from killing anyone.”

“They’ve both taught me a bit of sorcery- Sera showed me more… tangible examples, guided me through it all, though I’ve not… caught up yet. Diana handles the more theoretical stuff. Circean Resonance, Ptolemic… stuff, and the… Utgard Law stuff. The mass thing.” She turned uncertainly, fists clenched.

“The imaginary space of the soul, yes. I’m familiar.” Matt said absently, his eyes at the ceiling, at the broken chandelier there. “A phoenix and a djinni… hmm, that answers a lot.”

“It’s how she can just… explode and be fully clothed.” Karen added enviously, “She says I’m way off learning it.”

“Probably correctly. All things considered, I’m rather glad I didn’t end up with you as an apprentice, five children is too many. It’s only fair to share you out.” He smirked. “Do you know if she deals with any other spirits?”

“No. What other spirits even are there besides the Ba- the Siren?”

“That was my suspicion. I’m glad to hear that she’s keeping her source under wraps. One last question- is this Sera happy?”

“Kinda. She’s trapped in a rock, she’s about as happy as someone can be with that situation. But her and Diana are… really really good friends.” She undersold.

“Makes sense. The situation of a phoenix and djinni coming together in the modern area are… likely tragic. And certainly not a combination I wish to provoke, you can be assured of that.” Matt nodded, “Very well. Thankyou, I shall see to it that your brother forgets his trauma.”

“You’d better- and don’t tell anyone.” Karen growled, “Or else.”

“Of course. So much for civility.” He stood, and opened the door, “Be careful out there.”