Page 96 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Rory trilled his agreement. He liked being with Max, so of course everything was alright.

Since Rory couldn’t serve the normal people, Max had to do it himself until Alex showed up after school.

“How’s Rory?” was the first thing Alex asked when they arrived.

Max showed them the makeshift sling. Alex eyed him. “Is he bigger already?”

Rory chirped happily in agreement, and Max smiled as he said, “Yes, he’s getting bigger. Apparently, he’ll keep growing until he’s full-grown as a bird, and then he’ll be able to turn human again. Or at least, that’s what I think will happen based on my asking questions or making comments and Rory chirping.”

Alex smirked as Rory made more happy noises.

“Okay, then,” Alex said. “I’ll take over up here. You get into the back.”

Looking relieved, Max went. Rory tried to rub against him in comfort, but he wasn’t sure how well it was working given that he was in a sling across Max’s torso. Only then Max’s big hand reached out and gently patted him.

“It’s fine,” he told Rory. “I might not like the customers much, but I do understand I need to deal with them sometimes. And it’s not your fault you can’t help right now. This definitely requires the ability to speak English.”

Rory wished more people could understand every being around them, but that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

“I can work now,” Max soothed, one of his fingers slipping between the folds of the sling to stroke along Rory’s back. He made a hum of satisfaction. “You’re very soft like this.”

Rory twisted so he could peck at Max’s finger.

Max laughed. “Mostly soft. You’re mostly soft like this.”

He spent several more minutes petting Rory, then declared it was time to get to work. Rory happily curled up in the sling, tucked up against Max’s warm chest.

The next week passed rapidly. Max and Alex had made up a story about Rory being called away urgently for an emergency. They’d left it as vague as they could, but given the number of people that asked after him, they’d had to say something. Rory was touched by how many people expressed concern, although it was clear that Max could do without all the nosiness.

Every day, Rory continued to grow. He lost his downy feathers, and his full plumage grew in, all reds and golds and oranges. He started to fly again, which startled Max. Unfortunately, Rory soon grew too big to perch on Max’s shoulder, at least when anyone could see. In his natural form, he was almost the length of Max’s forearm, and while Max could still hide him with magic, it didn’t work as well, because Max behaved too much like he had an increasingly large bird perched on him.

Rory had never tried taking on another bird form until after he’d regrown from his rebirth, and he didn’t want to risk it now in case it caused problems.

Once Rory confirmed with several shakes of his bird head that neither his phone nor his keys were going to reappear when Rory-the-human did, Max got them both new phones. He used a clever spell to recreate a key based on a lock.

He pulled that one out of his safe and explained that while it could be used benignly for moments like this, there were a lot of hands it couldn’t be trusted in.

Oh, yes, Rory hadn’t thought of that.

“A Spellsmith should have designed it better,” Max grumbled. “It should have been a lock owned by the caster of the spell, or tied in to intent. There are lots of ways it could have been made safer, if only someone had given a little care.” He eyed the spell dubiously. “Unless it was created for a thief, of course.” He shrugged. “Whatever the case, I’m keeping it out of the way.”

That made a lot of sense.

They didn’t have a D&D game on Friday, Max claiming that no one wanted to do it without Rory. Max had explained to Rory what had happened while he was being reborn, how they’d all outed themselves in one way or another—except for Tom, who was the lone completely normal person who hadn’t expected any of this. Apart from poor Tom, Rory had apparently been in good company with folks who weren’t being entirely forthright about themselves.

Should Rory have realized that David was a witch and that Stella and Edward had magical ancestry? Rory knew that magical traces could be hidden—it was how he could appear as a simple bird and not a shifter if he wanted—but he hadn’t thought about it as it could apply to others.

He still liked all of his D&D friends, and he hoped that they would still like him after this.

On Saturday, Alex showed him a drawing they’d made. In it, a red, gold, and orange-colored bird was surrounded by flames. They hadn’t got the adult shape quite right, but they’d done a very good job based on what they could see. Underneath it, Alex had written “Phoenix?”

Rory still wasn’t really supposed to tell anyone but his mate, but he’d obviously failed epically on that already. He was probably supposed to flee and leave them to doubt all their memories—he’d done that before—but he already knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Instead, Rory flew onto Alex’s shoulder, trilled at them, and rubbed briefly against their cheek.

“Alright,” Alex whispered. They lowered their voice even further. “And it’s not normal, right? Instead of just something everyone forgot to tell me?”

Rory reached out and used his wing to cover the words at the bottom of the drawing.