Mirrors and Mysteries

1. Dex

1

DEX

AGE TWENTY

The best part about being a wolf shifter?

Kicking ass.

So far this year, I’ve battled legions of trolls, a spider queen who spits cocoons of death, and a three-legged elf wizard whose attack spells give you extra limbs (in his defense, he thinks he’s doing you a favor). I should be dead many times over, but we wolf shifters self-heal, fast.

All of which means that although Lady R just zapped me with magical blindness, I’m not too worried. My healing powers have erased spells for ice fevers, vanished fangs, and extra heads. All I need is a quiet spot and Milady’s magic is history.

Question is, where am I?

After my unhappy encounter with Lady R, I returned to the Faerie Realm via a supernatural portal. Normally, magic would transport me straight to my home, Wulfhelm.

This time, I’m not sure where it dropped me off.

Even when I’m human in form—like now—my animal side is always close. Sadly, visual scans aren’t an option right now. Instead, I reach out with my wolf awareness. Leaves rustle in unseen trees. Night insects chirp nearby. A gentle breeze brushes my skin. My heart lightens.

My home, Wulfhelm, could be nearby.

I take a deeper breath. Beyond the scent of pine and moss, there’s the unmistakable stench of rot. Disappointment settles on my shoulders.

Not Wulfhelm.

Still, it’s a deserted forest. That should be enough. Closing my eyes, I pull on the supernatural energy within. An electric zing spirals through my limbs. Healing power charges across my skin. A magical chill penetrates my body.

One minute passes.

Two.

Please, let this work.

Little by little, I reopen my eyes.

Total darkness surrounds me. Still blind. This spell is a tricky one. Closing my eyes once more, I tap into an even deeper level of power. Fresh energy crackles around me. My veins heat. Every inch of my body feels so pumped with magic, it’s as if I might explode. Agony radiates through my nervous system. Firming up my stance, I push past the hurt.

Five minutes pass.

Ten.

I open my eyes again. And the blindness remains. Unfortunately, I now sense the weight of manacles on my wrists and feet—it’s the binding power of Milady’s spell. A weight of worry settles into my bones. Much as I hate to admit it, Lady R wields some mean magic.

Clink, clink…

Metallic jangling echoes around me. The noise is odd and familiar, all at once.

Clink, clink…

I know that sound. Two Refract warriors are on their way.

Wulfhelm’s territory sits beside Refraction, the Prism Master’s land. Unlucky us. The Prism Master’s a sadistic freak who wants more acreage at any cost. Wulfhelm is his prime target. Refract warriors regularly patrol our joint boundary, looking for weaknesses.

Today, they’ll think they’ve found one. Me.

Although I can’t see, I can still picture this scene. The two Refract warriors are slender and pale with high cheekbones and long white hair. They’ll wear thin metal armor without helms. Compared to the elves, I’m muscular and broad-shouldered with rough features. My black hair is tied back with a scrap of leather. I wear human-style jeans and a dark Henley.

The guards move closer. I’m ready for the worst, but I hope for the best. Out of all the Prism Master’s forces, there’s one guard I trust: Captain Zoya. If I’m lucky, she’ll be on this patrol.

“Looketh over there!” calls the first guard. It’s a male voice. Not Zoya.

“An intruder doth enter our midst!” announces the second guard. This one’s a she-elf, but not the captain.

Guess my luck isn’t changing yet. These are typical Refract warriors, which is to say, pompous idiots.

“Who disturbs my fellow guard and I?” asks the male warrior.

I stile the urge to groan. “It’s my fellow guard and me,” I clarify. “Not my fellow guard and I.”

If my correction affects the guards, they don’t show it. “Dost mine eyes regardereth the Wulfhelm Alpha?” asks the female slowly.

I can’t help it. “Regardereth isn’t a word.”

“He’s no Wulfhelm Alpha,” corrects the male guard. “His fellow vermin say he’s their Brutus.”

All magical beings live by a fairy tale life template. As a wolf shifter, I’m fortunate not to be stuck with the Three Little Pigs. Instead, my future follows the story of Brutus and Vita, founders of Britain. According to legend, the pair settled the island as a bastion of safety. For me, that means protecting shifter orphans in Wulfhelm.

“What’s wrong with thy eyes, yon mongrel?” asks the female guard. “Thou hast gray irises.”

There’s the clinking of armor followed by a whoosh. Something’s being thrown at me. Even without eyesight, I know the toss is too wide to make an impact. No need to dodge.

“Perhaps yon dog is blind,” says the male guard. “He didst not twitch when I tossed my stone.”

“Only because thy throw sucketh,” I explain.

The clink of armor grows louder as the pair step closer. “Eureka!” That’s the female guard. “Indeed, I doth detect some blinderyness in yon mongrel’s irises.”

This time, there’s no stifling. I all-out groan. “Blinderyness is not a word.”

“We’re elves,” calls the male guard. “When we say it, it becometh part of the jargon.”

“I think you mean lexicon.” I shake my head. “Look, I was raised by wolves and I know this stuff.”

“Silence!” calls the male guard. When he next speaks, it’s in a tone he believes I cannot hear. “Shall we attacketh him? What dost thou thinketh?”

I raise my hand. “I’d walketh awayeth. Blind or not, I can defend myself quite well.”

“How did he hear you?” whispers the female.

I point to my face. “Wolf shifter.”

“Yon mongrel is bluffing," says the male guard. “He may have cast some listening spell to hear us, but none can’t fight while subject to blinderyness.”

I’m not correcting the blinderyness thing again. “Clearly, you two don’t know wolf shifters,” I state. “Listen to me carefully. If you walk away now, there will be no trouble.”

“Don’t like to fight, eh?” asks the male guard.

“No,” I reply. “I love it too much.”

Another pause follows. Perhaps they will walk away. Then, the male guard pipes up.

“Let’s clean the filth off our lands.”

I crack my neck. “Works for me.”

Leaning back on my heels, I let out a fierce howl. Shifter power awakens inside me. My fingers elongate into claws. Fur covers my skin. Muscles lengthen. My human clothes tear. I become part man and wolf. I’d fully shift, but I’m in no mood to meander through unknown forests while both blind and naked. Becoming a wolf destroys your wardrobe.

Both warriors race toward me. First comes a lighter tread. The female guard. Based on the scent and breeze, I can anticipate the attack vector.

I grab the woman by her waist. Her armor crumples under my grip. I toss the guard over my shoulder; she lands on the ground with a thud.

The male attacks next. A long metallic snick sounds. Uh oh. Someone’s making a bad life choice. In this case, that means this man’s unsheathing a sword.

I sidestep the second guard while swiping my claws across his torso. My talons shred his metal armor like paper. I don’t slice deep enough to cause a mortal wound. Yet.

A fresh round of metal clinking sounds as the two guards rise.

“Consider that a warning,” I state. “I’ll give you both one last chance to leave.”

A long minute passes. The forest falls quiet. Even the insects stop chirping.

“As an added bonus,” I continue, “I won’t even tell my friend, Captain Zoya, how you lost a battle to a blind wolf shifter.”

The pair gasp. As with any time I mention Captain Zoya, all fake accents instantly vanish. “We’ll take you up on that deal, buddy,” says the male guard.

“Thanks, hun,” adds the female.

A fresh chorus of clanking sounds as they run off.

Not for the first time, I wonder how our neighbors would act if they were led by Captain Zoya instead of the Prism Master. After all, she’s Queen of the Prism Elves by blood. The Prism Master got the gig by stockpiling magic mirrors.

Speaking of the Prism Master, I’ve no doubt the two guards will report this mini battle to him. Good. As an ally of Lady R, the Prism Master already knows about my magical blindness. Now, he’ll learn that I can still fight.

After retracting my claws and muzzle, I find I’m back to my original question.

Where am I, anyway?

That little battle made me lose my bearings. Time to check my location. Crouching down, I rest my palm against the chilly ground. A faint pulse of power moves through the soil. Through my darkness, a flicker of green light appears—it’s the first thing I’ve seen in what feels like forever. My soul soars. I’m witnessing the magical fires that lurk under Wulfhelm’s soil. Even Lady R’s spell can’t block them.

Using the fire as my compass, I calculate my exact location. The flames dictate that my home is south from this spot. Rising, I take off toward my home territory. With each step forward, my thoughts whir through my recent adventure with Lady R. I’ve escaped.

But what about my fated mate?

Another image comes into my mind. I picture an elf lady with red hair, intelligent green eyes, and the kind of inner strength my wolf adores.

Grayson.

All wolf shifters have one person who’s perfect for them, whether human or not. Our fated mate. In my fairy tale life template, Grayson is called the Vita to my Brutus. And I’ve found her.

That’s the good news. Yet, there’s a bad part as well.

Lady R lives by the Rapunzel life template. Grayson serves as Milady’s eternal servant, what’s called a tower tithe. With my help, Grayson tried to escape Lady R.

Tried being the key word in that sentence.

Protective energy charges through my nervous system. When I left Lady R’s tower, the blindness spell was changing my vision while clouding my thoughts. I never got a clear read on what happened to my Vita.

Did Grayson finally escape? Is she safe?

These questions rattle through my mind as I continue my march. Hours pass. Residual effects from Lady R’s spell—or perhaps my attempts to heal from it—keep my head hazy.

Finally, I inhale the familiar smell of dried leaves and musk. My pack has been here and recently. Kneeling down, I touch the earth once more. A strong flare of magic heats my palm. Like before, the blaze of green appears in my vision. The tendrils of fire blaze around an invisible hand. Huh. I can see my own silhouette because parts of me block flame. Still, the strength of the fire gives my final location.

I’ve reached the woods just outside Wulfhelm.

In no time, I close in on the city itself. With each step forward, new worries press in around me. Once I enter my home, Thornfield, my pack of underage orphans will seek me out…. And those pups’ll panic to find me both blind and in rags. Not acceptable. There’s nothing I can do about my vision, but my outfit can be fixed.

We shifters always stash extra clothes on our home territory.

After searching around, I find a cache of hidden clothing under a nearby boulder. After changing into battle leathers, I head toward Wulfhelm once more.

Crunch, crunch…

Dead leaves crackle as someone steps nearby. I tilt my head, listening more closely. The tread isn’t anyone from my pack. My pulse speeds.

Another intruder is near.

No question about it. In all likelihood, I’ll need to shift into wolf form and do battle once more.

As I said to the Refract warriors, that works for me.