We had all sat around the kitchen island for an hour trying to warm up and decompress over a cup of tea, but it hadn’t been nearly enough for me. Energy continued to thrum through my veins as it always did in the aftermath of using my fire power. Maybe my “tank” needed to refill in the same way Sinda’s did after lending someone a healing hand. I didn’t use that ability often enough to know.
“You got one job done,” Bixby pointed out, after a pause. “Think about your relative, the great-great Cora Brighton. The gift she passed down through generations finally surfaced in you. How would she feel about your forgetting about… What’s her name again? The busy border collie?”
“Skye. And I haven’t forgotten but figured she could wait another day.”
He rolled over and stared at me, eyes gleaming in the weird glow of the lava lamp. “Do you have any idea how long a day feels to someone in her position? Caught powerless between life and death? Swinging from hope to utter desolation? It’s not unlike Liberty in the grips of the wasting spell.”
I knew Liberty’s desolation well. It was with me still, because she passed it along during our energy exchange. Sitting up, I braced the dog with one hand. “But how do I know if it’s Skye’s time? Normally I get a clue. Actually, it feels more like a cue. Something that screams ‘now.’”
“Maybe you don’t need the cue and the commotion anymore. Your powers are growing by the day. I can feel it even if you can’t. Perhaps you could just, you know, call her.”
I took a deep breath, trying to take mental inventory. When I arrived home, I may have been in denial about my abilities, but I knew what they were. In this whirlwind few months so much had changed, including acquiring some skills from Liberty. I had never wanted to know myself and now that I wanted to—or at least needed to—I was at a loss as to where to begin.
“Bixby, I’m not myself anymore.” My voice sounded young, maybe closer to the age when Mom lulled me with fake lava. “I only feel like me at Whimsy.”
“There’s been a lot of change, no doubt about it, and it all started when you walked into that store down south and met the canine love of your life. Isn’t that what you called me earlier?”
I laughed. “Not out loud, that’s for sure.”
“Which is wise, if you still hope to land Big Red. He needs to know he stands a chance against a dog like me.”
“It’s possible to love lots of people and even more animals.”
“Animals? I thought dogs were the extent of it. I hope you’re not arranging to import livestock to this plane of existence.” He stood and turned sideways for inspection. “How do you think your canine soulmate would fare against hooves?”
“I was thinking more about cats. After what Minerva said, I wondered if my ancestor leaned toward the felines.”
“Probably. More typical of her era, I expect. Some of the familiars I see now defy reason. Birds, rodents, ferrets…” He shuddered. “You people have lost all sense of tradition.”
“Modern magicals. That’s what the mayor called us. I suppose broader social change influences us, as well. There is acceptance of so much that couldn’t have been possible in my ancestor’s time.” I tried to imagine what Cora looked like. “I want to know more about her. To understand myself.”
“That’s part of the modern condition, too. Navel-gazing. In my opinion, you learn about who you are not by introspecting but by doing.” He tapped my arm with a paw. “Doing. As in moving. Completing a task that will no doubt light up a dark corner of your twisty mind.”
“Twisty? It’s not twisty at all.”
“You hide things from me. Ergo, twisty.”
“A lady needs a little privacy, that’s all.”
His tap got more insistent. “I’ll turn my back while you get dressed. No sacrifice, as I have no interest at all in that view. Red can have it.”
The comment slowed me down. How would I ever get closer to Drew with a pedigreed dachshund in the room? “How do magicals with a familiar ever… you know, cut loose?”
“If the happy day arrives where you and Red wish to reproduce—and I don’t recommend a commitment, given the Brighton track record—I shall happily draw the mental curtain and adjourn to another room with more sensible people.”
“Okay. I’m going to hold you to that.”
“It’s a small concession to get you moving. Now, get up.”
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I said, “Fine. Let’s try it. But I don’t have a good feeling about it. I really don’t.”
“Well, if you go in with that attitude, you’re bound to fail, aren’t you?”
“You’re incorrigible. Relentless.” I found pants and a sweater, and pulled on the coat I’d dumped on the floor earlier. “I don’t know why I listen to you.”
He chuckled. “Someone’s really not a middle-of-the-night person, is she? Me, I don’t need much sleep. Eternal rest does that to you. Now, I want to grab every second by the throat and shake it.”
“You’ll shake it in a coat, my friend.” He fought me but I persisted. “Let’s hope this visit is less strenuous, Bixby. I feel depleted by our earlier adventure. In the magical sense.”
“Completely normal. Give it time.”
“You said we don’t have time.”
“I said time feels endless to a dog in Skye’s condition. I’m not entirely without empathy, Miss Brighton. I just don’t squander it like some do.”
Picking him up, I crept out of the bedroom and into the hall. The house was huge, but like any old house, it creaked and groaned. Even without its resident ghost.
Bixby sniffed and then listened with his inner knowing. “They’re sound asleep,” he said, switching to our inside line. “Even Liberty, back at her house. Nursed her wounded pride for a while first, no doubt.”
“Yeah, I feel bad for her. And guilty about misjudging her. At first, I thought she was there to dismantle the sentry’s security. I think she tried in the past.”
“Liberty’s changed, and I don’t say that lightly, because most people never do. It’s probably a combination of suffering alone for so long and then getting a big dose of good magic.” We crept downstairs, where he continued aloud. “Plus she has a bigger reason to live now.”
I slipped out the front door and the frosty wind smacked me hard. It felt good. Bracing. “You mean Harold? I’m sure she never expected to get him back.”
“There’s no greater gift than a devoted dog, and as much as I detest Hairball, he is that. But you’re missing something obvious. As usual.”
Once we were inside the car, I set Mr. Bixby on the passenger seat. “Enlighten me.”
