Sigils and spells, p.41
Sigils & Spells, page 41
“Wait, I’m confused. Why would an enslavement have me just randomly turning into a horse? Why aren’t I stuck in Fairy land?”
Ruby thought for a moment. “You said in the dream you didn’t finish the apple right? You just gave it back?”
I nodded.
“Maybe doing that led to you getting only part of the enchantment. Like maybe the enslavement keeps trying to do its thing, but because you didn’t eat the entire apple it only had a partial effect, leaving you free from Elfhame, but still affected by the magic that would have turned you into a horse permanently.”
I made a face. “Man, I am glad that I don’t like apples.”
She snorted and kept reading.
“Ok but why are my clothes still on? The last two times I was naked, and if I’m changing into a horse how are my clothes still there? Minho said he woke up naked.”
“I mean an enchantment is different from lycanthropy. Hmm, it’s hard to explain. While you are still the body of the horse, you aren’t exactly turning into the horse. The transformation comes from a place of magic, not physical. Lycanthropy is more like a disease. It’s a physical change from the inside out. Enchantments, especially shifting ones, are like, from the outside in. so you’ll still have your clothes on if you had them on when you changed because you're essentially replaced with a horse, rather than becoming a horse.”
“That makes perfect sense, but also somehow no sense.”
“It’s magic, Julian.” Ruby looked down at the book. “Welcome to nothing making sense ever again. Ok, here.”
She paused to read, and a moment later said, “The only ways to escape enslavements is by dying or being set free. Partial enslavements: an enslavement that is incomplete, leaving the victim with affects akin to shifting enchantments. When used in Elfhame causes permanent desire/need to return. Examples of those suffering from partial enslavements have gone crazy when unable or unwilling to return to Elfhame. The shift becomes controllable, as long as the victim does not lose sanity due to distance from Elfhame. The effects are permanent unless freed by the caster, or the victim dies. See Shifting Enchantments or Transmogrification for more information.”
“Well, that was a lot of words,” I managed. “Translation?”
“Well, you have options.” Ruby closed the book with a thwump. “You can stay this way and learn to control the shift, which will slowly drive you crazy unless you go to Elfhame. Or we find the caster and ask them to undo it.”
“Neither of those sound very good.”
Ruby pursed her lips. “Well, the castor is either Titania or Maeve. If it’s Titania you might have a chance of her letting you go. She’s supposed to be kind natured as Fae go, but unpredictable. If it’s Maeve you’re screwed. She’s the worst. She’d never let you go without some kind of deal.”
“Couldn’t I just learn how to control the shift and just pop into Elfhame sometimes?”
“Maybe?” Ruby rubbed her forehead with the spine of the old book. “But Elfhame is unpredictable too. Everything about fairies is weird and confusing. If you tried to treat Elfhame as a getaway destination it might not let you in. Or maybe the moment you set foot in Elfhame, the caster would snatch you. There are so many weird rules and quirks that come with fairies, it’s really frustrating. Fairies are less likely to kill you than demons, but at least demons kill you and then go home. Fairies will enslave you and fuck with your family for generations.”
“There are demons too!”
She shushed me and continued. “Fairies like being tricky and manipulative and confusing. They thrive off of it. They can’t lie, but they can do everything else. They’re obsessed with games and gambling, and there are a lot of stories of that being their downfall. Where was I going with this?”
“My current options.”
“Right.” Ruby looked back at the book in her hands. “Yes, I can try to help you learn how to control the shift, and help you figure out how to get to Elfhame often enough to keep you sane. But that would be forever. You’d never be free of Elfhame or the Shift. You’d be a shifter for the rest of your life. Or we could try to find the caster and find a way to get you free from it, which of course comes with its own challenges. Maeve or Titania? Would a gift to trade be enough or would we have to trick them? Are we smart enough to outsmart a Fae Noble or the Fairy Queen? I don’t know.”
I looked down at my hands. Risk going crazy, or risk being a horse slave forever. Again, neither sounded like a very good deal. But now that I was part of this world, did I really want to leave it? I wouldn’t have to leave it. I just want to stop ending up naked in random places.
“Ok.” I took a breath. “I think I want to try to undo it.”
Ruby looked at me for a long moment before nodding sharply and standing. First she stirred Minho, who still snored on the couch, even after all the chaos of a few minutes before.
“Wha-what’s going on?” he mumbled bleary eyed.
“Julian is a horse. It was a fairy enchantment. I’m sure he can catch you up later. We’re going to Elfhame.”
“What?” Minho looked from where I sat on the floor to his girlfriend who was bustling around the room, piling up books and vials onto an empty desk that I wasn’t certain had been there before.
“Sunday, preferably early in the morning, we’re going to Elfhame, we’re going to try and bargain/trick the Fae who enslaved Julian.”
Minho groaned. “Not Sunday. That’s—”
“The new moon. I know,” Ruby made a quick detour to kiss him on the cheek before grabbing something that rested on the windowsill over his shoulder and hurrying back to the table. “I’m sorry, baby, but it’s the best time to get in and out of Elfhame. It’s when Fae are at their weakest.”
“Everything is at their weakest.” Minho grumbled.
“What’s wrong with the new moon?” I asked, feeling like Minho wasn’t taking my horse revelation with a lot of surprise.
“As a werewolf it’s the worst time.” My roommate pouted. “I’m super strong near the full moon, but once the new moon comes, I feel like total shit. My whole body hurts. I’m tired.”
“So, like being on your period?” I raised my eyebrows.
Minho said “No” at the same moment that Ruby said, “Yes.”
I snorted. “I see.”
“Anyway,” Ruby drew the attention back to her. “We can’t do anything until the new moon. So, Julian, you have to be careful. You’ll probably be more likely to have control once you’re in horse form now that we did that reveal spell, but you might not be able to control the shift itself, so, avoid sleeping naked, or anything startling. New shifters struggle with emotional shifting. And you don’t want to end up waking up naked in weird places if it keeps happening. Lay low. Rest. I’ll have all the information you need on Sunday. Leave it to me.”
“You’re doing a lot for me.” I said uncertainly. “Are you sure you’re okay with doing all this? I appreciate it, but it sounds like a lot of work.”
Ruby waved me off, but her usually gentle looking face split into a grin, “I’ve always wanted an excuse to go to Elfhame.”
SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY
I took a few days off of work, claiming a stomach virus, and stayed locked up in the apartment for the next two days. It had been Thursday morning when Ruby came up with our plan. Minho and I slept straight through the rest of Thursday until Friday morning, where we spent the days doing nothing but reading the long, explicative texts Ruby sent Minho about Elfhame rules. The number one rule was DON’T EAT ANYTHING, emphasized with an excessive number of exclamation points. Don’t thank any fairies, they would take it as an offer of servitude. Don’t believe anything they say at face value. There were others, but those felt the most notable.
We planned on staying in until Saturday. Saturday night I had my date with Pickle Girl, and Minho was going to do his first Bronc ride. Cowboy that he was, Minho had been doing bull rides for a few months, but Saturday was the first night Blaze had given him a Bronc ride. We’d go together and then I’d meet Alice once I helped get his horse. The Bronc riders are always surprised with a new one, and Blaze had told me I could pick one to mess with Minho.
Everything else in the world may have changed, but Saturday at Rodeo Blaze was exactly how it always was. The night smelled like fresh cut grass, sunscreen and cheap beer. Every rodeo smelled like this. It was the smell of summer. Middle aged men in ten-gallon cowboy hats, kids with corn dogs, on rodeo bunnies with cropped jean shorts milled about the parking lot between the rodeo and the bar. Minho was antsy as he parked in an employee spot in the back of the bar, clenching and unclenching the steering wheel.
“Maybe we should go.” He said.
“What? Minho, no, you’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”
“I know, but all the sound and people, we don’t want you to have another incident.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not letting you use me as an excuse. This is your dream, Cowboy. Let’s get you living it.”
Minho rubbed the scruff on his chin and nodded as if stealing himself before clambering out of the car, his staple white Cowboy hat sitting in his locks like it had grown there.
“You go find Blaze and I’ll have your horse ready.”
Blaze’s head stable-hand had let me help him behind the scenes before, but even so I was still a little terrified of the horses. I found him by the stables, but he was busy, and told me to just go ahead and pick one out, and some men would come take the horse from me to Minho. that was it would still be my choice, but I’d be able to meet up with Pickle Girl for our date.
I picked a horse I’d never seen before with a sandy coat and black mane. the horse huffed at me. I gave him a “sup” nod. The horse didn’t respond.
I stood by the stable door. and crossed my arms over my chest. I was nervous. not for Minho, I knew he’d do amazing, but for my date. Which was silly. We were about to go to the deadly fairyland, and this girl had literally seen me at my lowest and asked me out. I shouldn't have been nervous. I was a ladies man. I went on dates, why was this one so different?
I was lost in thought, and when the door at the end of the stables slammed open and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Or... literally jumped out of my skin.
Everything was wrong. One instant I was standing, waiting for the stable-hand, the next I was too tall, I could see too much, and my limbs felt stronger. I stumbled, and made a sound that would have been a gasp if I’d still had my human lips.
Instead, I neighed. God dammit! I was a horse. Shit, shit, shit. I couldn’t be a horse now, I had things to do. I tried to turn back into a person, not that I knew how to do that. This was my first time really knowing what was happening Damn it! So, instead. I tried to feel it. I closed my eyes and felt my bones, my flank, my tail that swished and whipped almost out of my control.
I whipped around, slamming my back end into a post and letting out a deafening whiny that should have been “God damn it.”
The younger stable-hand that had burst through the door blinked at me. “woah, boy, what are you doing out?”
He put up a hand like he thought that would ward me off and grabbed his phone from his back pocket, never taking his eyes off me. I stopped moving, breathing hard through my huge nostrils. I could feel my tail and my ears twitching.
Turn back into a person! Turn back into a person. Now…. and…. Now!
It didn’t matter how many times I thought “now” I still remained a horse.
“Hey, Dary, one of the horses is out without any tack. I need you to get down here.”
I heard a garbled voice on the other end say something. The stable-hand looked around. “No, I don't see him. He must have just let this guy out and left. Jackass.”
My first thought was, oh no, now they think I’m rude.
I remembered tack from Minho using horse lingo. It meant like bridles and halters and saddles–the stuff that made a horse rideable.
Oh my god. Of course they thought I was a rodeo horse. What else would they think? Only a few seconds passed before the other stable-hand appeared by the first man’s side.
He whistled. “I don’t recognize him. That’s a big ass horse. Must be new.”
“Blaze mentioned he was thinking about getting some new broncos. Someone must have been getting him for the next show.”
“Alright. Help me saddle him up and we can get him ready to go.”
I took a step back, snorting again. I didn’t want to be in a bronc ride, especially not as the horse. I wanted to watch Minho do his first bronc ride. I didn’t want to be his first bronc ride.
“Easy, boy,” the first man said in a gentle voice.
My instinct to jerk away, sent me rearing into the air, another distressed snort escaping my lips. My hooves went down hard, and I saw the man skitter away from me. I was huge. I’d forgotten. Huge and dangerous. I took a deep breath to try and calm my heart that galloped wildly in my chest. I didn’t want to hurt either man.
“That Song kid’s the one that’s gonna ride this beast?” The first man said, stepping up on one of my sides, patting my neck comfortingly. I stood as still as I could, nostrils flaring. “Not jealous.”
“What’s his name?” the second man asked, pulling the gear off the wall.
“I don’t know.” He patted me again. “If he’s new maybe Blaze’ll let us name ‘im.”
I have a name, I thought grumpily. I don’t want a horse name. I can’t be a rodeo horse. I’m not trained for this. I didn’t graduate from horse school, I just got here.
They threw names back and forth as they saddled me, securing a thick braided rope that wrapped around my girth and back. Names like Stormfall, Thunderhoof, and Lighting. Which told me two things. For one, I was probably a gray horse if they were so hooked on storm imagery, and two, these stable-hands had read too much Warrior Cats as kids.
“He’s being awful calm.” The second man frowned as he pulled gently on my bridle once they finished. I followed as slowly as I could, barely moving my muscles. “Is he going to be enough of a bucker for this?”
“Must be.”
Don’t kill them, don’t kill them, don’t kill them. I had too much body. There was so much more of me than I was used to.
I huffed and stopped walking. What if I accidentally killed Minho? If he was going to ride me, I didn’t want to be responsible. Hmmm… and then, even if I didn’t kill him, once I turned back into a person I’d have to acknowledge that he… had…. ridden me. Oh, God, I was going to have to say those words out loud and neither of us would ever live it down. Oh god.
I pulled back on the bridle a little, but a solid yank from the man forced me to follow. I followed him down the narrow hallway, towards the bucking shoots. We were under the stands. dust rattled down around us as the hundreds of feet stomped and voices cheered for whatever show was on now.
I was the next show, and I realized that I was afraid. I didn’t know if it was really me, or the horse-ness of me, but fear jolted through me as I pictured those bucking chute.
I couldn’t help it. I yanked on the bridle again, every instinct in my body telling me to get away. I whinnied and stomped at the ground, but the stable-hand was undeterred. This must be what all the horses did, and so nothing new to him.
He stopped after a few feet and turned to me. “Calm down, there, Boy, you ain’t gonna get hurt. You’re perfectly safe.”
My human brain knew he was right. They took good care of the horses and the horses and riders had to go through training to keep both parties safe. But my horse brain slammed against the walls of my skull, terrified.
The rodeo announcer’s voice blasted through the stereo overhead and I could hear him even over the crowd and through the garble and static of speakers that were turned up too loud. He was introducing the next show. Introducing Minho.
“Ladies and Gentleman!” He began, his voice a familiar boom. “What a show that was! Give a round of applause to Derek as he makes his way round back for a drink. You’ve earned it, Derek!”
The announcer paused to let the crowd cheer before continuing. “Now! Let's get ready for our next man out! I'm talking about our very own local, a new-comer and budding crowd favorite, Mmmminho Song!!!”
The crowd roared, and suddenly there were more hands on me, on my reins turning me and urging me into the bucking chute. It was designed to be so small I could barely move. It was like a wooden gated box, enclosing me on all sides. Men’s hands grabbed me from the platform above forcing me to be still.
A Bronc ride is a rodeo event where a rider tries to stay mounted on a bucking horse for 8 seconds. The rider uses his legs, spurs, and body positioning to stay balanced on the horse, while also gripping the rope tightly with one hand and waving his free hand in the air for balance, normally holding a cowboy hat for the sake of drama. Only 8 seconds, but the horses bucked hard. I’d watched plenty of shows, and the men always looked like they should come out the other side of it with scrambled eggs instead of brains.
But I knew as soon as they closed that gate that I wasn’t going to be able to go easy on Minho. Every fiber of my being wanted out. I yanked and jerked, but the hands and the chute kept me still. My nostrils flared.
Suddenly, I felt a solid weight on my back, and a familiar voice said something I didn't quite understand to one of the men. Minho. Minho was on my back
I felt Minho grip the thick braided rope that is wrapped around my girth, I felt him readjust, keeping both feet above my shoulders. He'd have to stay like that until my feet hit the ground after the first buck. One hand was going to keep him on my back until he could get his legs around me, and then he just had to not fall off.
“Alright! Looks like our rider’s ‘bout ready, Folks!” The announcer bellowed. “Let him head you!”
