Page 236 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Are you kidding me? Shapeshifting?I didn’t like the sound of that right then. From his furrowing brow, I could tell Pete didn’t either. Because what the hell was I about to become? And how would I turn back?
A ruckus of strain arose from the hosts. When Pete groaned with them, his hands strangling mine, I whimpered, “What’s the matter?”
“She’s given both her blessings at once.”
Why?I wanted to whine.Does shewantme to pass out?
“I’m trying to slow them, Shorty.” Pete stiffened again. “I just don’t know if I’ll slow them enough.”
I squeezed his hands. “I’ll be okay,” I probably lied. “Just do what you can.”
Don’t you dare hurt him!I wanted to squawk. At the Morrigan.He’s been through e—
In the next instant, Iwassquawking. Literally. At a much closer distance to the sand. And—
Ooh, is that a bug? That’ll make a nice snack. Come here, you little shit!I’m hungry!
Oh, no! Oh, myfreakingGoddess! Do I have feathers? And abeak? What thefuuuuuck?
I had a conniption then. Fluttering like thefreakingchickenI now was.
“Anchors away, Pete!” Myrrdin chortled. Many of the conduits chortled with him. Including Pete. Whose huge-ass hands reached to catch me. Just then, I didn’t care to be anywhere near his huge-ass hands.
What ensued was a very unfunny (in my opinion) game of Pete and chicken. During this game, I was also resorbing the Morrigan’s secondary gift. Because of that, Pete finally caught me. Croodled against his chest, I thrashed for freedom. His voice was a soothing rumble as he petted my feathery head with one of those huge-ass hands.Bah!
“Easy, now. No, no, Shorty.No! Leave off the henpecking—I like it less than your harping. Just breathe deeply as I’ve taught you, control the magic. Aye, there now. Come back to yourself, girl.”
My, I do like it when he calls me girl.
And just like that, I settled back into Pete’s consciousness, where I met him as a pre-teen boy on a woodsy excursion with a large, bearded man and a younger boy of Pete’s own mien and make. All three held long rifles as they crouched behind a thatch of blooming mountain laurel. The man, sweating through his leather waistcoat and continental hat, spoke in a soft voice that sounded just like Pete’s did now. He advised Pete on how to best shoot the buck grazing in the distance. But Pete didn’t wait for the man to finish. He squinted one molasses eye, aimed, and pulled the trigger. His musket ball struck the buck right in the shoulder.
Though he gawped at first, the bearded man eventually broke out in a bout of silent, belly-shaking joy and mussed Pete’s hair. “Well, I’ll be dratted,” he brogued, squeezing Pete’s shoulder. “That’s my lad.”
By the end of that memory, I was my old Danann self again, standing to my normal height—my cheek pressed to Pete’s bare chest. Our eyes met with the mutual recognition of how close he held me. I felt his even pulse in the roughened hand cupping my jaw.
We broke apart. Though, not abruptly. Reluctantly.
At last, Pete sighed. “Blast it, Shorty, please don’t do that again.”
I would’ve laughed if I weren’t so shaken. Could I quit my summoning in the middle of it? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask.
Thankfully, Morrigan had finished with me, and she strutted back to Danu’s side, smug as a cat in stroking her crow.
I whined when the redhead approached, literal flames lapping at her luminous skin. I knew exactly what giftshe’dbestow on me.
“Fret not, my daughter.” She smiled. “I’ll start with my meeker gift before I broach the fire.”
I slumped, relieved. “Thankyou.”
The circle of hosts had another chuckle. As did the redhead.
“Here, Shorty.” Pete tugged my hand, drawing me to join him on my knees in the sand. He was right, of course. We needed to return to communing because another hollowing was already under way. And this time, it came with the bonus of nausea. My gorge rose not long after my forehead touched Pete’s. I gulped back several mouthfuls of welling spit. “Just breathe.” His voice was a sip of ginger ale. It helped, but only mildly. “Remember, you’re so near the end.”
He was right—I could do this. If I could survive mutating into a chicken, I could do anything.
The redhead’s meeker blessing was the ability to protect those nearby from physical harm, the Allies’ Aegeus. In resorbing this, a golden, transparent net whirled around Pete several times before leaping back into my unwitting hands.
I expected my queasiness to abate then. Instead, it got worse. My third hollowing was still ongoing even after the redhead’s secondary blessing. So, how much freaking fire was biding within me? And how long would it take for her to purge it? Because I was two more gags away from tossing my biscuits, and one regurgitation away from passing the hell out.
