Page 71 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

I’ve never been so scared in my entire life, Alex admitted.

“But we’ve got you,” Rory told them firmly. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Do you want to see me change?”

Alex nodded. Yes, please.

So Rory let go of Alex completely, stepped back, and smiled at both Alex and Max, standing there watching him. Then he turned into Red. (Up until Max, his cardinal hadn’t had a name. Or it had had the same name that Rory-the-human had. But he wasn’t ever going to be anything but Red now.)

As Rory had promised Alex, there was no pain, just that moment where it felt like he was shrinking and being compressed, where everything was burning hot—but for Rory, that was a comfort—and then he was a bird again. A brief disorientation as he got used to the placement of his eyes, to having wings instead of arms, and then it was all good.

He fluttered off the ground and up to perch on Max’s shoulder for a moment and rub against his neck, because he couldn’t help himself. That felt like his perch now. Max gently stroked him.

Then Rory flew up to Alex and settled on the top of their head, looking down at a bear who was trying to peer up at him. Rory hopped around a few times, making Alex laugh. Rory took flight again, winging around the room, then settling on the floor, and an instant later, he’d stretched into his human body again.

“See?” Rory said, grinning. “Just like that. Kept my clothes, and no bones cracking and reforming. I don’t sprout feathers one by one or anything like that. Magic guides us between our forms. It’s as simple—and complicated—as that.”

But what if I don’t know how to do that?

Alex wasn’t panicking yet, but a certain amount of worry was in their voice.

“It helps to think like a human and stay calm, at least to start,” Rory told them, making sure to keep his own voice steady and reassuring, “which is why we’ve been having this conversation. It takes energy to shift. Most of it’s magical, but you’ll be tired, too, especially as you’re getting used to shifting. You’re also going to be hungry once you change back, and you’re not going to be able to change again for a bit.”

Totally fine with that! Alex declared resolutely.

Rory could just imagine.

“You need to focus on being human,” Rory told them. “And despite what this moment has probably made you think, shifting between forms is always a deliberate act. It might be a split-second decision, and it can be done on instinct in some ways, like if you’re trying to help someone, say. But this isn’t a Hulk situation. You don’t shift just because you’re angry.”

Thank god, Alex breathed.

Nodding sympathetically, Rory explained, “As much as it seems like it’s totally wild for this to happen during puberty, it actually isn’t adding more hormones to the mix. You feeling happy or sad or angry or whatever at the drop of a hat doesn’t mean you’ll be yo-yoing in and out of bear form. Now, it can mean that a young shifter makes a foolish choice and decides to shift because they’re angry, but that’s a different discussion.”

Can I never turn into a bear again? Alex asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t recommend making any decisions about how you feel about this right after this first transformation. Give it a chance to settle in. Don’t depend on anything that you read in books or saw in movies. If you have a question about shifting, ask us, and if we don’t know, we’ll find someone who does.”

“One hundred percent,” Max confirmed. “I’m not an expert on shifters by any means, but I know a lot of witches, and there are plenty who are close to shifters or have one as a familiar.” Max coughed when Rory shot him a look. “Which is totally not something we need to get into right now.”

A familiar? Alex asked, sounding confused. Like a witch and a black cat?

“We’ll get into shifters and familiars later, I promise,” Rory said. It was an important topic, but one thing at a time. “Max is right. We know plenty of people, and we can definitely get help if we need it. I’m not an expert on four-legged shifters, for example, but I’ve seen a lot over the years.”

Aren’t you, like, thirty? Then Alex hastened to add, I mean, no shade on your lived experience!

Rory managed not to laugh. “Shifters don’t age the same way humans do. Our aging slows down, usually starting in our late twenties. We’ll get into that, too. There’s a lot, as you can probably tell, and this would have gone a lot more smoothly, obviously, if you’d known about it. When you grow up in a shifter household, even though you don’t shift through your childhood, your family would typically prepare you as if you were going to become a shifter.”

Does that always happen? Alex wanted to know.

Rory tilted his head back and forth. “A shifter mating with a shifter will result in a shifter 99.9% of the time. With witches, the percentage isn’t quite so high, but it’s true probably 97 to 98% of the time that they’ll have a witch. Occasionally, they’ll have a human instead. I don’t think there’s ever been a witch born of two shifters or a shifter born of two witches.”

Max shook his head. “No, never that I’m aware of.” He rolled his eyes. “There have in fact been a few infamous cases of adultery being demonstrated in spectacular ways—but always very belatedly, since, as we’ve just seen demonstrated, the magic only emerges late in puberty.”

Humans were so weird. Or maybe Rory just didn’t understand why people made such a big deal about parentage because he’d never had parents.

Rory continued, “When a shifter or witch mate with one another, it almost always results in either a witch or a shifter.”

Max said, “I’ve read of the occasional case where fraternal twins have been one shifter and one witch, but it’s rare. But one person isn’t both.”

Rory smiled. “Exactly. If a shifter or a witch mates with a human, the percentage drops dramatically. They’ll have either a shifter or witch like their magical parent or a human. I’m not sure of the exact percentage.”