A sudden flood of pink and blue sparkles coalesced around Cara, which Maggie had never seen before; every shifter she had ever met flowed smoothly from one shape to another with no fanfare. The sparkles faded away to reveal ...
Charlie let out a delighted shriek.
Cara was a unicorn, approximately pony-sized, with a delicate frame, a white coat, and a pink and blue mane.
She shifted back again a moment later, although Charlie was still in raptures.
“I didn’t know there are unicorn shifters. Oh my gosh. That’s amazing. How do you take your hair color with you? Dad! I want to try dyeing myself as a goat and see if the color comes back with me!”
“It’s my natural hair color,” Cara half-whispered. “It’s always been that way.”
“Are there more unicorns? Are they all different colors? Can I meet some more?”
Sam put a firm arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Charlie, don’t badger her. Why don’t we all go back down to the fire? Actually, I have an idea.” He glanced at the small pileof pilfered food. “Cara, in the morning our friends will be out looking for us, and we’re going back to the lodge. Let’s eat the rest of this stuff tonight, and tomorrow you can come back with us to the hotel and have a hot meal. Something you don’t have to steal.”
Seeing Cara hesitate, Maggie added, “Unless you’re on the run from the law or something?”
Cara shook her head slowly. “I just can’t afford it.”
“We’ll take care of that. I’d consider it a perfectly fair trade for sharing your food, and your Christmas Eve.”
After a long silence, Cara gave a little nod.
Maggie picked up the fruit basket, and Charlie grabbed the snack box. Her necklace was tucked safely inside her sweater, but when she moved, Maggie could see the gleam of the chain against her neck. It was oddly not tempting to her magpie, as if it had finally begun to learn that some things were Not For Stealing.
She doubted if it would ever cease to a problem entirely, but it was turning into a manageable problem. She had shifted to fly in the storm, after all. She hadn’t lost her head, or lost control of her magpie. She had been completely in charge the entire time.
Whether or not Hester would let her back in the lodge, she had no idea. But she found that she cared much less than she would have expected.Shefelt right about her decision. She had done what was right, and she would take whatever fallout came from it.
SAM
Christmas Eve dinnerwas surprisingly pleasant. The only food in the emergency kit was some vaguely cardboard-flavored ration bars, so a picnic of fruit and packaged chips and chocolate-covered nuts, spread out in front of the fireplace, was more than welcome.
Cara brought down her sleeping bag, along with a couple of sheets that she had found in one of the rooms being used as drop cloths. They were paint-splattered but otherwise reasonably clean.
It made a relatively comfortable nest in front of the fire. Charlie snuggled down against Sam, but when Maggie cautiously found a place on his other side, he put his arm around her, and Charlie made no objections. Maggie’s hair spilled across his shoulder, smelling wonderful.
In spite of being stranded in a storm, now that he was warm and mostly dry again, Sam felt much better. The only thing this evening needed was popcorn and maybe a few pieces of furniture.
The lights flickered a few times, so when they finally went out for good, it was less surprising than it otherwise would havebeen. The gas-powered fireplace remained on, filling the room with a flickering, bluish light, and the corners with shadows.
“Okay, this is kind of creepy now,” Charlie murmured, snuggling closer to her dad.
Wind continued to shake the house. Maggie asked quietly, “Do you think the power being out will affect the heat?”
“It probably depends on what the furnace runs on, and whether there’s some kind of backup for its electrical components,” Sam said. “Obviously the gas is still on. I don’t think we’ll be too uncomfortable by morning, and we do have outdoor gear and the ability to shift, just in case.”
“This is the weirdest Christmas Eve ever,” Charlie said. “I feel like we should tell ghost stories.”
Sam laughed. “Let’s do that. Except it has to have a holiday story element.”
“Oh, not fair! I don’t know any holiday ghost stories.”
“Don’t you? Isn’t that what the Scrooge story is?”
“That doesn’t count and you know it.”
“I’ll go first,” Maggie suggested, sounding as if she had surprised herself by offering. “Have you ever heard of the Yule Cat?”
