“Good job, Marci,” she muttered, rubbing her aching temples. “Way to show these dragons you’re a contender.”
At this point, the only positive thing she could say for last night was that Amelia’s flame was still safe and sound. Even through the blanket of her hangover, she could feel it flickering in the hearth of her chest. The constant motion didn’t help her nausea, but it was comforting all the same because it meant there was at least one thing that had gone right yesterday. When she tried to pull a little magic out of it for an anti-hangover spell, though, her mental grasp found nothing. The fire was burning merrily, but the magic flowing from it—which should have been enough to fill her internal magic reserves to bursting after eight hours of inactivity—was suspiciously missing, and given how cold and lively the spirit sitting on her back was, Marci had a good idea why.
“Ghost…” she said warningly, rolling over to glare at the transparent cat, who was now sitting on her stomach. “Did you eat Amelia’s magic while I was asleep?”
Not all of it,he said innocently.I didn’t touch the fire itself. Just the power it put out.He licked his chops.It was delicious.
Marci gaped at him. “Seriously?!”
What?The cat turned up his transparent nose.I was hungry. The magic here is too thin to support me, and it’s not like you were using it.
“That doesn’t mean you can just eat it without telling me like a…acatstealing food off the counter!” Marci cried. “We’re supposed to be a balanced pair, remember?” And now that she was paying attention, she could already feel their equilibrium going out of whack. Ghost had been dim and sleepy yesterday, but now he was fully awake and glowing with power. Given how thin the ambient magic was here, he must have been gorging off Amelia’s fire all night to get that charged up. There didn’t seem to be any permanent damage—Amelia’s actual fire felt okay so far as Marci could tell—and Ghost did look much better, but even so, this wasnota behavior she wanted to encourage.
“Do not do this again,” she said sternly, sitting up. “Amelia gave me her fire for safekeeping, not for you to snack on. If you need power, tell me and I’ll happily get it for you, but you arenotto eat magic behind my back again.”
I don’t see why you’re so upset. I was hungry and there was extra magic. It’s not like you were feeding me.He lashed his tail angrily.You were too busy with dragons.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Marci said, and given the delicate balance of power between them, it was one she was very serious about. She trusted Ghost to a point, but she’d also seen what happened when he got the upper hand. That was not a fight she wanted to have again, but while she was not about to budge on this, she also couldn’t deny that her spirit had a point.
“I’m sorry I got drunk and left you hungry,” she said, reaching out to pet his freezing fur. “That was wrong of me, and I won’t do it again. But this is serious, Ghost. I meant what I said about being your partner and supporting you, but that goes both ways. If this is going to work, you have to trust me, too, which means no sneaking magic behind my back. If you need more power, just tell me. I’ll take care of you, I swear it, but don’t do this again, okay?”
The spirit flattened his ears. For a long moment, Marci didn’t think he was going to answer at all, and then she felt him sigh in her mind.Agreed,he said at last, looking at her with his glowing eyes.I am placing a great deal of trust in you, Marci Novalli. More than our bond requires.Don’t make me regret it.
“Right back at’cha,” she said with a grin. “Who’s letting who live in her body again?”
That was your idea,the spirit said, flicking his ears as he turned toward the doorway.Someone’s coming.
“Is it Julius?” she said hopefully.
No,Ghost said, his furry brows furrowed in a look that would have been confusion on a human.It’s a bird.
That should have made no sense, but one thing Marci did remember about yesterday was the giant bird she’d seen watching her from the bar after Amelia had picked them up. Sure enough, when she stood up to see what Ghost was talking about, an enormous, black bird was waiting for her in the tiny hall, twisting its head back and forth to look at her with each of its beady eyes as its beak opened in delight.
“Foooooound you.”
The words came out in a hoarse croak, and Marci began to sweat. A giant bird was one thing. Since the return of magic sixty years ago, mutations of common animals into magical varieties were everywhere, not just in the DFZ. But a gianttalkingbird? That was another matter altogether.
Spirit,Ghost agreed, his ears going flat against his head as he jumped up onto her shoulder.Be cautious.
He didn’t have to warn her twice. Marci had already sent what magic she had down to her bracelets. Since Ghost had eaten everything already, it wasn’t much, but it was still enough to make the slightly warped plastic loops glow menacingly as she raised her arm and pointed it like a gun at the spirit in the doorway. “Who are you?”
“Who amI?” the bird squawked, clearly offended as it hopped through the door to perch on the low trunk-turned-coffee-table in front of her. “That’s a silly question to ask a spirit.” It spread its wings. “Can’t you guess?”
Marci bit her lip. Not including Ghost, who, as a Mortal Spirit, seemed to do his own thing, spirits were usually physically representative of their domain. Since she was dealing with a giant bird, it was clearly an animal spirit of some sort. A big one, too, given its obvious intelligence. Unfortunately, not being a shaman and thus never formally studying spirits, Marci couldn’t tell much more than that. She wasn’t even sure if the giant bird was a crow, a raven, or some other variety of big black bird, and she didn’t want to offend the spirit by guessing wrong. She was going to have to picksomething, though, so in the end, Marci just went with what felt most impressive to her.
“Raven?”
The bird hunched its wings sulkily. “Lucky guess.”
“I’m a Thaumaturge, not an ornithologist,” she said defensively. “And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you work for Algonquin?”
The raven began to squawk in a way that sounded very much like laughter. “I should hope not! What kind of spy comes in and introduces himself to the enemy? Algonquin’s got some real idiots in her fan club, but no one’sthatdumb.”
“Well, if you’re not here to spy for Algonquin, whatareyou doing here?” Marci asked, lowering her admittedly useless bracelets.
“What do you think?” Raven asked. “I’mRaven. Haven’t you heard the stories?”
Marci was about to shake her head when she suddenly remembered a high school reading assignment on Native American myths. She wasn’t sure if it was right, but at this point, a little flattery couldn’t hurt.
