Strange Magic

A Short Story in the Descended of Dragons Series World

Jen Crane

Carpe Noctem Publishing LLC

Contents

1. Strange Magic

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“Carbon, oxygen, nitrogen,” my Elements professor, Lynn Goodwin, ticked slim fingers as she over-enunciated each word, “are the primary elements composing the molecules of living things.”

She swept a bony arm over our class dramatically and toward the open window. “The synthesis of these elements brings about the genesis of life.”

She paused, catching each student’s gaze as if she was imparting some great secret. “Most importantly, it drives the evolution of stars.”

Timbra widened her eyes at me in mock astonishment. I shook my head, a gentle warning to quit fooling around. The last thing I needed was to laugh out loud and piss off another professor.

Timbra Redfern and I were suite mates and fairly new friends, but I had known from the moment I met her ours would be a fierce and lasting friendship. It was as if our souls recognized one another and latched on for life.

My new BFF sported a pair of fawn-colored ears that protruded several inches from her fine, honey-colored hair. Her round eyes were framed by long, black lashes that blinked just beyond the excessive side. These physical traits were leftovers from Timbra’s ancestors, a breed of large deer. She was lithe and lovely and kind. She was also quite funny, though so shy only a select few ever saw that side of her.

As a first year student at Thayer’s supernatural grad school, Radix Citadel for Supernatural Learning, I was enrolled in six courses and a lab, a heavy course load. Besides the current class, The Elements, I was enrolled in Intro to Craft & Ritual, Cosmology 101, Finding Your Metamorphosis, Tools of the Trade, History of Herbalism, and Breaking Bad: Psychic Self Defense.

Before coming to Thayer, I’d graduated from a local university with a science degree, so the ‘Elements’ subject matter Professor Goodwin spoke of wasn’t new to me. What was new to me were the magical applications of those elements.

“This carbon-oxygen-nitrogen cycle is critical not only for the formation of most other elements,” Professor Goodwin went on, “but for understanding how stars live, how they decay, and how they fade away.”

The professor’s nose flared with irritation when she caught Timbra and me exchanging looks. I quickly averted my gaze, pressing lips together in feigned innocence. When I turned, it was right into the soulful eyes of Ewan Bristol. It was impossible to meet Ewan’s gaze and look away—for me at least. Once caught in their bottomless snare, I was forced to fight my way to the top or else dwell in their depths as long as he wanted to keep me. The color of fire-roasted chestnuts, Ewan’s eyes were keen, clever, assessing. And sexy as hell.

“What’s so funny?” he whispered, those eyes lighting on my wild, cinnamon-colored hair, my cheeks, my mouth.

“Ah,” I struggled. “Nothing. Well, Timbra. She…oh, never mind.”

Ewan raised his head, catching me in his gaze again. “You have plans tonight?”

I reminded myself to breathe. The electricity, the instant connection between me and Ewan sizzled from the moment I brushed against him in Cosmology class weeks earlier. I had been minimally scandalized by his shameless reaction, and wasn’t at all sure what to think of him. That day in class, Ewan’s mess of dark hair fell lazily around his defined jawline. I stood too close as he shamelessly raked his eyes over my lips, my neck, and the tops of my breasts before finding my gaze. We stood for what seemed an eternity just looking at each other. I couldn’t seem to shake him, and wasn’t sure if I should be turned on or afraid. But when I realized I stood, crowding him at his chair rather than moving on, I gathered as much respectability as I could and took my seat.

“I don’t,” I said hoarsely and cleared my throat. “I don’t have plans.”

“Good.” Ewan’s grin was confident, but not arrogant. “You do now.”

My own face lit and I smiled back at him. “So, what is the plan?”

“Oh, good,” Professor Goodwin chirped. “I’m glad you’ll join us, Miss Stonewall.”

“Wait. What?” I looked from Ewan to Timbra and back again, desperate to know what I’d gotten myself into. Timbra’s mouth broke into a toothy grin before she pressed it to a tight line, working hard to suppress her laughter.

“We’ll meet at the observatory tonight at 9:00,” Professor Goodwin said. “Bring a cup of coffee and a good attitude. It’s going to be a long night.”

Ewan wasn’t laughing. In fact, he looked…well, he looked defeated. But then his mouth pulled to one side and he shook his head. “Professor,” he called, his gaze still set on mine. “I’ll be joining you, too.”

* * *

“I’m sorry,” I said again as Ewan and I left Sabre Hall. “I know a night in the observatory isn’t what you had in mind.”

The towering gray stone structure served many functions: our home away from home, our hangout, and where we met our daily caffeine and alcohol consumption needs. I was shocked to learn the school’s residence halls were co-ed when I first arrived on the Radix campus, or The Root, as my fellow students referred to it. My tour guide had waved away my concerns. “We’re all adults here,” he said. “No one cares what—or who —you do.”

“That’s all right,” Ewan said, pulling me from thoughts. “I was only looking to spend time with you, and there are many ways to accomplish that.”

I flushed, both embarrassed and thrilled at his confession. “You sure you won’t be too tempted to howl at the moon?” I smirked, lest things take too serious a turn.

“I very well might.” Ewan laughed, flashing a gorgeous white smile that he displayed far too infrequently. “It is my nature, after all.” Ewan Bristol was descended of wolves. I had seen his animal form, and it was a sight to behold. His wolf was huge, imposing, powerful. Even his natural form took on some of his lupine tendencies. When he walked, he had a graceful, almost rhythmic gate. Those eyes I couldn’t get enough of were predatory at times, and he had always struck me less as “different” than “more.”

“What do you think Professor Goodwin has lined up for us?” I turned to see Ewan’s face as we climbed the steep hill toward the campus observatory. The cracked mortar of an ancient step gave way and I lost my balance. I gasped, and with lightening-fast reflexes, Ewan clasped my upper arm to steady me.

“Thanks,” I murmured, more embarrassed than anything, and attempted to regain my composure.

“No problem.” Ewan loosened his grip on my arm, but didn’t remove his hand. Instead, he let it slide down my arm and ran his fingers through mine. The move was unexpected, and intimate. My gaze shot to his and his face held only kindness. Though his touch was unexpected, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I didn’t feel the need to remove my hand from his. So I left it.

Ewan lightly squeezed my fingers and picked up the conversation where we left before my little stumble. “My guess is we’re going to study something to do with the stars. It was the bulk of our lesson today, after all.”

I nodded my agreement as Ewan pulled open the heavy door of the stone structure. Entering meant removing my hand from Ewan’s grasp, and I missed the warm, solid contact the instant it was gone. He gave a weak smile as I passed him and entered the narrow stairwell toward the tower. The observatory wasn’t particularly wide, but it was tall—about the size of a small lighthouse. The top of the observatory deck was domed and a rich gold color. It gleamed beautifully in the light of day, a gilded beacon at the tallest point of The Root.

The voices of the other students blended together and bounced around the stairwell as we ascended.

Professor Goodwin’s voice rang out above the others, “The universe is expanding,” she said. “With every minute, every hour, every year, our natural powers are diluting as a result of this expansion. In a thousand years, who knows. Perhaps we’ll possess no magical power at all.”

We emerged from the floor of the observatory deck to join our classmates. Professor Goodwin nodded hello, and pushed her glasses to the top of her head to better inspect a mechanical switch. I smiled at a few classmates I recognized as Ewan and I found a free spot along the wall. With the dome closed, there wasn’t much to see besides a large, rotating telescope in the center of the room. Books and vials and gadgets of all sorts lined the shelves of the rounded walls. Ewan picked up a glass jar labeled “Esquel.” In it was an envelope-sized slice of…something. At first I thought the whiskey-colored flecks within the hard casing was amber, but the fine, crystalline cracks gave it away.

“It’s a meteorite,” I whispered. “Well, a slice of one.”

Ewan’s brows lifted toward his hairline. “Wow. I always thought meteorites were just gray chunks of rock.”

“They’re mostly iron and stone, it’s true. But this one is special. It has olivine crystals running through it.” At Ewan’s blank look I supplied, “Olivine’s a mineral.”

“How can you possibly know that?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Stars, the sky…they’re my thing,” I shrugged.

“Are they now?” Professor Goodwin was closer than I realized, and I jumped when she spoke just a few feet behind me.

“Well….ah…I mean, yeah. I studied them. I love them.”

She smiled kindly. “Me, too. Let’s have a look, shall we?”

She didn’t wait for my answer, but scurried across the room to flip the switch she’d been inspecting earlier. The observatory’s domed ceiling made a deep, deafening creak, and the entire class grimaced in unison.

“Perfectly normal,” Professor Goodwin called out over the noise.

The gold-colored metal didn’t fold or slide. It melted like some sort of space age alloy. I heard the lightest puff of air escape Ewan’s mouth in wonder as we watched the ceiling disappear. The darkness was blinding at first. There was so much to see that nothing was evident right away. But once my eyes adjusted, shimmering white and soft yellow flecks sparkled amid the dark expanse. Everyone else fell away. It felt as if it was just me, alone in the universe. The night was clear, and the glowing band of the Milky Way perfectly visible.

I moved along the wall for a better view across the river, where I knew Vischt was located. The lights illuminating the town’s homes and businesses gave it a soft white halo.

“So beautiful,” Ewan said so low I barely heard him. When I turned to see his face, I found him staring at me. I flushed, unsure what he meant.

“The elements we discussed in class today, those building blocks of all living things that also deal with the evolution of stars—their study is a science. But we’re here tonight for much more. Tonight,” Professor Goodwin dropped her voice theatrically, “tonight we deal in magic.”

Oh, she was good. I looked around the small room to find my classmates waiting with bated breaths for her next words, Ewan included.

“Tonight,” she continued. “We call upon the power of that great celestial body.”

Unease slid down my back and through my veins like a centipede of icy foreboding. While I had known about this new world for several weeks now, a world of mythical creatures and magic, I wasn’t yet comfortable with it. Maybe I never would be.

“Miss Stonewall,” the professor called. “Care to do the honors?”

Either there was some sort of conspiracy against me, the new girl, or I was unnaturally unlucky. I was called on in class with such frequency it was a running joke. Were the instructors at The Root trying to help me? Embarrass me? I didn’t know, but I had come to expect the unwanted attention, and tried my best to be a good sport.

“Happy to,” I said with a pasted-on smile.

The professor cleared a space for me at the northern-most wall of the observatory. “Stand here,” she said, “look toward the heavens, and when you feel you can recall the constellations in your mind, close your eyes.”

I tried to ignore the fact everyone in the room was focused on me, and did as she instructed. I stood, head back and eyes closed for several awful moments.

“Block out everything around you,” she said, almost a whisper. “Forget we’re here. It’s just you among the stars,” she said, almost hypnotically. “Et stellarum Stella.”

I took in a deep breath through my nose, forcing the small noises of the room from my mind. I heard nothing. Thought of nothing but the stars above me. I would swear I could feel the warmth of their burning glow on my upturned face.

“Now, call to them,” Professor Goodwin said. “Seek the luminous presence and invite it in. Reveal your waiting vessel.”

Fear, raw and vicious shot straight through my spine and broke my concentration. I opened my eyes and looked apologetically at Professor Goodwin.

“It’s all right,” she said with a crooked grin. “No one gets it on their first try.”

I nodded and moved to retake my position near Ewan.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she called, her dark eyes shining but serious.

“I…ah…thought you were finished with me.”

She scoffed. “Hardly. Try again.”

And so I did. I tried three more times, but my heart wasn’t in it. I really hoped she would give up and let me go.

On the fourth try, Ewan broke in. “Professor, she’s visibly upset. She can’t do it. Maybe let someone else try?”

Professor Goodwin’s mousy brown hair flew to the side as her head snapped in his direction. She sized him up, her eyes squeezing to a squint as she met his bold gaze. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Perhaps she cannot.”

Humility has never been my strong suit. My temperament has certainly never been described as ‘compliant’ or ‘laid back.’ Quite the opposite, in fact. Like any true redhead, I struggled to keep my temper in check, and my mouth closed. So, when the two of them insinuated I wasn’t able to do the task at hand, my immediate response was to show them just how quickly I could. On some level, I knew Professor Goodwin was using reverse psychology on me, but I couldn’t find the urge to care.

“I can,” I shot back. “I’m just not sure if I want to.”

Ewan’s mouth twisted before opening to argue the point.

“Of course you can, dear,” Professor Goodwin said, her tone indulgent.

I knew she was goading me. I knew it. And yet… “Fine. Watch.”

I closed my eyes, searching for the quiet I’d found before. I blocked out all sound, released every thought besides those of the constellations. I was calm, relaxed, so at peace with the stars. I opened my mind to them, and felt a white hot heat deep in my chest. My chakra. I inhaled and widened my chest, both physically and mentally exposing my chakra. Revealing my waiting vessel. All at once, my chest seized with pain so intense I wheezed, doubling over and falling to my knees. I heard a commotion around me but was too preoccupied with my attempt to breathe to know any details. Dimly, I recognized the clanging crash of metal, the sharp tinkling of breaking glass, and the shallow pants of my own breaths as I tried not to pass out.

“What the hell?” Ewan barked as everyone else began to talk at once. “Are you all right? Stella? Talk to me.”

“Remain calm, everyone. The lights have blown, that’s all. I’ll see if I can find the fuse panel.” I hadn’t yet opened my eyes, but noted Professor Goodwin’s voice fading in and out as she moved around the room.

“I don’t think a fuse panel is going to do much good,” a guy’s voice said from the far side of the room.

“Oh?”

“No. Everything’s dark from here to Vischt.”

My eyes popped open at that remark, and I struggled to stand. Ewan helped me up and we made our way to the railing. From The Root, down to Caliph Square, and all the way across the river to Vischt, all was dark. Eerily so, like a breaker on the whole countryside had been thrown.

The unease I had pushed away earlier returned with a vengeance. Panic rose in my chest, my heart slamming against my ribs. I was still lightheaded, and my ears rang, the noise in my head only frightening me further. Had I done this? Had I released something into Thayer that brought this darkness? I had fooled with a higher power I knew nothing about, and had invited evil to the place I now considered home.

“Oh god. Oh god,” I whispered over and over, wrapping my arms around my middle and rocking forward.

Ewan closed in behind me and wrapped his arms around my body. I closed my eyes to the comforting sensation of being held, to the warmth and support he offered.

“What have I done?” I asked no one in particular, leaning back against Ewan’s wide chest.

“Done? It’s just a blackout, Stella. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Let’s get out of here.”

“A blackout?”

I felt Ewan nod and press his cheek to the top of my head. “They’ll get everything back up and running before too long.”

“You’re all dismissed,” Professor Goodwin called. “See you next week in class.”

I deflated against Ewan, relief flooding my body. “Let’s go,” he said near my ear and squeezed me one last time.

As we neared the stairwell, Professor Goodwin caught my eye and motioned to me. “Miss Stonewall?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stay for a moment, would you?”

I closed my eyes against the dread I felt about whatever it was she wanted to discuss with me. I knew it. I knew it was more than a blackout.

“Go ahead, Ewan. I’ll catch up to you.”

“What? No. I’ll wait here with you.”

I didn’t want him to hear what she had to say, but his steely eyes, the wide spread of his feet said he wasn’t budging. I blew out a hopeless breath and waited for the other students to make their way out. When it was just the three of us, I patted Ewan on the arm and left before he could argue. “Be right back.”

“You wanted to see me?” I asked as I neared my professor.

“Mm,” was all she said as she ran a beady eye up and down my body. “What happened?”

“Happened? What do you mean?” No way was I copping to the blackout. Not without being absolutely certain.

“You channeled a great power back there. I could feel it in my bones. It rattled my teeth. Then everything just stopped. That’s when the power blew. The energy had to go somewhere. So I ask again, what happened?”

I ran my tongue around the inside of my cheek nervously. I didn’t have an answer. I knew nothing of channeling power, of great energies. I sure as hell didn’t plan on admitting to anything that caused that kind of damage.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I really don’t.”

She looked at me again, assessing. Always assessing. Those beady eyes were searching for a glimpse into my soul. I let her see the fear, the uncertainty, the absolute cluelessness I felt inside. She seemed to be satisfied because she stepped away from me and smoothed her dark dress.

“Don’t try anything like this again without my assistance,” she said, her tone solemn.

“No, ma’am.” I scurried away, grabbing Ewan’s hand and leading him down the narrow observatory stairwell.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked once we made it outside the tower.

“I have no idea.” I shook my head. “But I hope I never have to do that again.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. By the look on her face, I doubt she’ll ever ask you to volunteer again.” Ewan laughed low and quiet. “You’re so dangerous.”

I slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “I am not dangerous. You said yourself it was just a blackout.”

“Right,” he said, “it was all just a coincidence.”

He was teasing me, I knew. But he couldn’t have known my suspicions: that I really had done something to disrupt the energy levels over a 10-mile radius. What I’d done or how I’d done it, I had no idea. But it was big. And probably not good.

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Descended of Dragons, Book 1

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I had reason to be wary of Rowan Gresham when I saw him at the coffee shop. Crazy doesn’t always look crazy. Sometimes it looks like the most handsome and refined gentleman ever encountered in one’s short life.

Gresham sat at a corner table for two but the confident set of his shoulders, the rigid turn of his jaw, and the indiscriminate menace in his glare occupied the space of half a dozen. The pendant light above him had blown, providing a concealing shadow, and despite the prime coffee consumption hour the tables around him stood deserted. I wasn’t the only one who picked up on his threatening vibe.

The gray counter near the register betrayed streaks of white from repeated abuse as half conscious and completely-apathetic baristas slid hot beverages across it day after day. I ordered a large latte and added a shot of mocha at the last minute because I sure deserved it after the day I’d had.

The air in the coffee shop was infused with the thick, robust aroma of coffee beans, and I took a fortifying breath. Blind courage was what I needed to face him again. It had gotten me this far. Just a bit further yet to go.

I made my way to the back table and sat across from Gresham, who stood while I approached and sat again once I was seated. This unfamiliar display of chivalry pleased me, but I hastily remembered I hated him and quelled any gushy feelings.

“Thank you for coming, Stella. I had my doubts you would. Do you care for anything besides coffee?”

Rowan Gresham had a slight accent. Not English, exactly. Not French. I couldn’t quite place it, but it seemed to have the influence of a romance language. He rolled the “r” in ‘care.’ Sexy.

No, Stonewall. He’s a weirdo, remember?

His lightweight black sweater probably cost more than my entire ensemble, which that day was nothing to sneeze at. I’d worn my navy sheath dress, the one cut a little too low in the back and a little too high in the hemline. A patterned belt cinched my waist and defined the line of my chest. Casual ballet flats ensured the outfit still said ‘daytime.’

“I almost didn’t.” I forced the words out and raised my chin. “But I couldn’t overcome my curiosity.” Nerves inspired me to swipe an imaginary strand of auburn hair behind my ear. “So? Let’s hear it. What do you know about my father? And just so you know,” I warned, “I asked the woman at the counter to keep an eye on our table, should you get any more ideas about throwing me over your shoulder. And three people know I’m meeting you.” A complete lie. I hadn’t even told my roommate Lizzie the truth about the meeting.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” he stammered uncomfortably. “But you must admit that the first time was to save your life, and the second…well, I did need you to get you into the car quickly.” To his credit, he looked abashed as his gaze shot to the floor and he licked dry lips.

“Well, let’s get right down to it, then, Mr. Gresham.” I sat back in my seat, crossed my arms and gave him my best scowl—eyebrows pulled together in the middle and everything. “What do you want to tell me so desperately that you were willing to kidnap me?”

He gave me a smile that was less like a smile and more like a you-were-cute-for-a-minute-but-now-shut-the-hell-up.

“I have some information I’m afraid is going to give you a bit of a shock. There’s no real way to ease into it. The world…you…things are not what they seem.”

He was silent for a moment and scrunched up his face, turning his head from side to side as if he was trying to work out some great mystery. He hesitated so long I thought he wouldn’t go on. But then he set his square jaw and nodded once.

“Look, I’ll just dive right into it. Stop me if you have questions. There exists a whole other realm in which beings have varying lineages, abilities, knowledge. This world is parallel to the one you know, but it is vastly different. My world knows of yours, of course, but very few people within your world have the slightest idea about mine.”

“Well, sure,” I said and leaned back in my chair to look over my shoulder and see if a) anyone had overheard the whackjob, and b) I could make it to the exit before he grabbed me again.

“You will undoubtedly find this impossible to believe, and for that reason and for the sake of saving valuable time, I’ve brought a substantial token of proof of my world’s existence.”

I was reeling from his sudden louie into Looney Land, but this profession did grab my attention. Visions of tin-foil Fedoras and Hot Pockets bearing the likeness of Baby Jesus filled my mind as I waited for him to produce his ‘proof.’

Idly, I concluded it was surely one of life’s great travesties that such a fine specimen of a man was a raging nut-job.

I looked up to find Gresham glancing nervously around the coffee shop. He put his hands under the table and motioned with his head and eyes that I should look down.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, great. More penis tricks. No freakin’ way.” I shook my head on a smirk. The guy was unbelievable.

His eyes bulged and his jaws clenched in silent disapproval of my resistance. He made a jerky nod toward the floor again.

“Oh, what the hell. Seen one, you’ve seen ’em all.” I leaned over and peeked at what he wanted so badly to show me under the table.

What I saw under that table shelved any further sarcasm because there, plain as the smirk on my face, was the tiniest person I had ever seen. Dressed in a three-piece brown tweed suit, he looked more like an old-world attorney than a mythical creature, though he did have facial hair enough to deserve the gnome moniker. Or was that a gnomiker? The distinguished little man stood with hands on his hips and tapped a foot in impatience. Despite being the size of a large doll, he managed to look down his spectacles at me and raised a furry eyebrow in the universally understood, ‘Well, seen enough?’

I nodded numbly in answer to his silent question. Gresham offered his own nod of thanks to the little man, and then he was gone.

I aimed for cool and collected, but my heart raced madly and my mouth was so dry I couldn’t move my tongue. I reached for my latte, but my hand shook so that I returned it to my lap. I smoothed my dress against my legs in an attempt to rid my hands of their sudden moisture.

No. I did not just see what I thought I saw. Not possible.

“Since you seem to be at a loss for words—a phenomenon I don’t take lightly since in my experience you rarely have little to say—I‘ll proceed.”

I shook my head dumbly—again—so Gresham continued.

“My world is made of beings far different than this one. The major variant between the two is that humans on Earth evolved from primates, while the residents of Thayer evolved from many groups within the animal kingdom. Thayerians trace their ancestry from hoofed animals like deer and horses, from wolves, bears, amphibians, as well as primates.”

My eyes lost focus as I considered his words.

“Are you still with me?”

“Yes,” I croaked. My brain-to-mouth function was firing at a snail’s pace.

“Another marked difference is that Thayer is a far more magical realm. Since it’s much older, and our people have varying lineages and talents, we have developed and learned to control supernatural abilities.”

I didn’t believe what he was saying for one minute. Another world? No. I’d know if something, somewhere else existed. Wouldn’t I? Astrophysicists and astronomers would know if worlds existed parallel to ours. Wouldn't they?

“You expect me to believe all this? That there’s another world out there where people evolved from wolves and birds?”

“I know it will be hard to accept,” he said.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I scoffed. “You’re trying to demolish the foundation of the very existence I’ve stood on my entire life, and you think it’ll be ‘hard to accept’?”

“I’m sorry, Stella. This situation is unusual. I’m doing the best I can. Please try to keep an open mind.”

“Having an open mind would mean trying bok choy or bungee jumping. What you’re asking is outrageous, Mr. Gresham. A parallel world? Come on.”

He didn’t address my protests, but continued, “Ironically, despite having been in existence far longer than this one, ours is a world that exists now as yours once did—an age gone by, a simpler way of life, but with the benefit of modern technology and scientific knowledge. It is a world that I wish yours had turned out to be. But somewhere along the line people of your developed world began seeking fortunes and possessions forgot what the pursuit of happiness is all about.”

I was not offended at Gresham’s negative synopsis of our culture. It was true, after all, especially in first world countries. As I pictured the world he described and imagined simpler times and hairier people, I found that his description of this ‘alternate realm’ sounded dreamy. I mean, I loved an episode of Andy Griffith as much as the next girl. Throw in magic and technology and, well, sold.

Sadly, his description of a variegated utopia made it obvious that poor Mr. Gresham’s elevator did not go all the way to the top floor. Bless his heart, he was an egg roll short of a pu pu platter.

On the other hand I had just seen a real-life gnome. Perhaps I was the one thisclose to converting to Scientology.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s say—hypothetically—your perfect little magic world does exist, and I really did just see with my own eyes a tiny little professor. Why did you hunt me down? Why tell me all this? What does it have to do with me? And what can you tell me about my father?”

“Yes, well…” The sides of Gresham’s mouth pulled back and down to reveal a thin line of his bottom teeth. “This is the difficult part, isn’t it?” He shrugged and let out a long breath. “One of your parents was born in our world. You’re half Thayerian. And despite being only partially so, you already have or will inherit certain….abilities…characteristic of your family’s lineage.”

I sat, mouth agape, for what seemed like an eternity. I ran his last statement over and over in my head, denying its possibility outright. For fun I tried to imagine my mother as an otherworldly being. I mean, she ain’t right, but I would never have considered her ‘alien.’

I wasn’t ready to board Gresham’s locomotive to Locotown and shook my head in an effort to clear it. What he said could not be true. But I had just seen a tiny man. Wearing a suit.

Maybe my suspicions that magic existed were true. Sometimes I daydreamed that if I just thought hard enough; just knew the right things to think or say, I could make something magical happen. Sometimes when I looked at the stars I felt they were looking back—that they were sentient. I was drawn to them like the sailors of old, and felt their pull as sure as gravity’s.

But there was no way people evolved from animals other than apes. Hell, it was a miracle I believed in evolution at all. Since childhood it had been ingrained in me that evolution didn’t exist. That ‘Man has always walked Earth as we do now,’ and ‘God made Adam and Eve in his own likeness’ was drilled into my head from the time I could talk. In high school my science teacher refused to teach us the subject of evolution. I’ll never forget the day he said, “Class, the next chapter is on the theory of evolution. You can read it yourselves but I won’t, as a Christian, teach it.”

You bet I read that chapter. What’s more, I became a science major.

I sat in stunned silence in the coffee shop; this time deep in thought. My erratic breathing had slowed, but my mind continued to race. The idea of Thayer and its people was completely enthralling. I had always been a little odd. I was the girl that drew unicorns on her notebook—the one who looked for rainbows and spun in circles on the playground. Normal girls dream of their wedding day, but not me. I always wondered who I would be, not whose bride. I never really fit in.

Not to mention my overwhelming fascination with the stars and astronomy. Could some alternate universe have been calling to me? I wondered. Was there a whole other half of me that I had yet to discover?

“So, you’re saying my father...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the thought.

“I have done some initial research into your background, Stella. I could find no connection between your mother, Elena, and Thayer. Stands to reason that your heritage is derived from your father, but I could find no record identifying him. I‘d hoped you could help with that information.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem. I never knew my father, and my mother refuses to speak of him.”

The last time I asked about my father was for a genetics assignment in high school biology. Mom completely ignored my questions, ran to her bedroom swiping at her eyes, and stayed there until morning. The woman had always been prone to prayer, but I could hear her crying out for hours. The next morning she made breakfast as if nothing had happened. I let it go.

“Surely she would be more forthcoming if you asked her now,” Gresham said. “You’re twenty-two years old. An adult, though barely.”

I snorted and shot him a ‘barely this’ look. I saw no reason for being condescending about my age again.

“I’ll be twenty-three in August. And I’m telling you, she’s kept this secret my entire life. I don’t think she’ll come around, but I’m willing to try, if for no other reason than to put all this nonsense to rest.”

I looked out the window and noticed that Lizzie had pulled up outside the coffee shop. If I wanted to make my final, I had to hurry. We made plans to meet again that evening. I needed some time to soak all of this new information in. It wasn’t every day a girl learned of an alternate utopia with dwarfs and magic.

It was even more infrequent that she learned she belonged in that world.

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Rare Form (Descended of Dragons, Book 1). You can purchase the complete novel from Amazon by clicking the link below:

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