Now Keith felt like even without any magic in the air between them, he and Iris understood each other perfectly. When they were in this form, their essences were closer to the surface than usual, and everything seemed—easier. He could read her just fine, no telepathy needed.
He tossed his head, gesturing out towards the rest of the village.
It’s your mystery place. You lead the way.
Iris nodded and set out at a brisk canter. Keith followed her.
He knew he should probably use this as a chance to see some old familiar sights again and take in how Purity had changed in the time he’d been gone, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to the sights. It was too much fun just moving along at her side. Even back when he’d lived here and spent a lot more time in his shift form, it hadn’t felt like this. He didn’t think that the rush he was feeling now was just because it had been such a long time, either. He thought it was her.
He hadn’t had the same kind of companionship back then. And he’d never gone for a run with his team: there weren’t a lot of places in the world where you could show off a magical shift form this freely, and they wouldn’t have a lot of fun if they had to stay invisible the whole time.
Maybe one of them would be up for trying it while they were here. Griffins and dragons didn’t run when they could fly, so Cooper and Iz probably wouldn’t be too interested, but he could see Simon going for it. Were tigers faster than unicorns or vice-versa? This seemed like something they should settle for the honor of their respective species.
Nothing, though, could ever be like running alongside Iris.
They were headed towards the outskirts of town, where the houses thinned out and more and more space was devoted to farmland. There was no one around to see them, and they wound up spurring each other on into a gallop, running full-tilt against the wind, their hooves thundering on the grass.
It was the purest exhilaration Keith had ever known, and it was over all too quickly. As they came up to a slightly abandoned-looking barn, Iris slowed. The enjoyment seemed to bleed right out of her.
What was this place?
Iris didn’t shift back to human until they were almost at the door. Keith had the sneaking suspicion that it was because she didn’t want to figure out how to answer that question. Whatever this barn meant to her, it was apparently easier for her to show it to him than to talk about it.
It was funny, though: back at the cottage, he’d had the impression that she was mostlyexcitedto take him here. Maybe she’d been a little nervous. But he hadn’t felt the kind of dread that was now coming off her in waves.
Keith shifted back.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
He reached for her arm and felt how chilled she was. He bitterly wished he had a jacket that he could throw over her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” Iris said.
“It doesn’t look okay.Youdon’t look okay.”
“It’s just been a while since I’ve been here, that’s all. I probably should have done this a long time ago. Waiting just made it harder.” She touched the tip of her tongue to her lips. “This is going to sound silly, but can I hold your hand?”
He just answered by closing his fingers around hers. She squeezed him like she was trying to make sure that he was solid and real.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
She let go of him only long enough to slide the barn door to the side, and then her hand found his again. She led him inside, into some hot and dusty shadows. The morning sun should have lit things up in here, but Iris closed the door behind them before it got the chance.
“There used to be electricity out here, but I canceled it,” she said. “We should still be able to see, though. Just give it a second. I know I should just leave the door open, but this place is ... private.”
Keith waited for his eyes to adjust to the hazy darkness. In the meantime, his other senses perked up, taking in the silence and the golden, somehow friendly scent of sawdust.
Then he could see.
It was a carpenter’s workshop: table-saw, a peg-board with hammers, one jar of nails and one of pencils, drafting paper, a huge metal tool-kit covered with silvery dust, and a jumble of things like varnish, sandpaper, measuring tape, and a level. There was even a mostly-finished table, abandoned with only three out of four legs embellished with elaborate carvings.
Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t this.
“This is yours?”
“Yeah.” Iris’s voice was hoarse. “I used to make things.”
Even though she sounded choked up, there was still a kind of pride in her voice that hadn’t been there when she’d talked about doing the Council’s filing.
