I squinted. Was I seeing shit? Or was there really a ghostly pale figure sitting on the ground in front of a small, narrow glass house?
Sure enough. The figure and building were real and definitely not figments of my imagination.
"Is that Mistral?" I mumbled to myself.
The figure was so pale it almost glowed in the dark. It had to be a spirit because what kind of freak human lived at the very top of a mountain in a glass house?
I flew down towards him, tense with anticipation. This was good. If Mistral was here, then Ihadn'tlied to Quinn and that was a massive weight off my shoulders.
When I got closer to the figure, the air grew colder. A chill prickled my feathers. I didn't know much about spirits, but I guessed that was normal. Weren't they supernatural entities or whatever?
A lone dead spruce tree stood near the glass house. I perched on the branch closest to the figure and got a better look at him. Long black hair sprawled onto the ground around him, turning almost transparent near the tips, and a pair of black horns jutted out from his head. He didn't have any wings. Nothing about screamedair spirit.
The figure slowly raised his face to me and smiled. His face was almost as pale as the moon. "Hello, little finch."
A chill ran down my spine. Okay, didn't like that.
I grunted. "Are you Mistral, the air spirit?"
The figure laughed sharply. "Oh, no. But it's amusing that you think so. My name is Animus."
"Are you a spirit, too?" I asked.
"I am. Thank you for noticing."
I didn't bother asking what he was the spirit of, since I didn't give a shit. I was only here to find one spirit and it wasn't Animus.
"Do you know where Mistral is? I'm looking for him," I said.
Animus examined his black claws. They were creepy coming out of human-shaped hands. "He's inside his house. But good luck getting him to come out. He's holed himself up in there, I'm afraid. He's never been the bravest of spirits."
"You know each other?"
Animus shot me another eerie smile. "It's a long story. But yes."
I didn't give a shit about this guy or his story, but something told me not to get on his bad side so I kept my retort to myself.
"I need to talk to Mistral," I said. "It's important."
Animus stretched out languidly, like a cat. "Is that so? What could be so important that you need to speak with him in the middle of the night?"
"It's not for me. It's for my friend."
Animus ran a clawed hand through his long hair. "And why are you here seeking Mistral instead of your friend?"
I didn't care if Animus was a spirit. I was getting sick of him and his questions.
"Look, with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you," I said as calmly as possible. "Our business is with Mistral."
Animus's face twisted into a sneer. He stood up and glared at me. He was a lot taller than I thought. I wasn't short in human form, but he would've towered over me. I was suddenly glad I perched high up on a branch.
"Is that right?" Animus asked, the airy playfulness gone from his voice. It was cold and hard now. "You keep sayingour,yet I don't see this friend of yours around. Sent you on a wild goose chase, have they?"
I bristled with irritation. "No. I'm doing this as a favor. It's important to him."
Animus suddenly relaxed. "This friend of yours. Is he more than a friend? Be honest with me."
First of all, why did he care?
