Page 45 of Casting Butterflies

Hunh. My first attempt hadn’t worked. You’ve seen my passport. All is good. Move on to the next cabin.

“Madame, vous devez me montrer votre passeport.”

I only understood the last word. Passport, which was when I suddenly realized something. Magic didn’t translate. My commands in English weren’t being understood by the French man.

Oh shit.

I might have panicked, only a deep accented voice said something I didn’t understand, which had the ticket collector turning and then murmuring, “Merci, Monsieur.”

Who was he thanking?

My jaw dropped when the ticket collector moved down the hall and I saw, “Misha!”

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I couldn’t believe my eyes. There stood my platinum-haired elf, looking none the worse for wear, and after blurting his name, I added, “Did you break out of jail?”

His lips curved. “Nothing so exciting. I got released with a warning to leave the country.”

“That’s it?”

“The large donation to the precinct probably helped.”

I shook my head. “Glad you escaped the clink. How did you find me?”

“Have you forgotten? The pernicae isn’t the only one who can track Anivivi’s location.”

“Speaking of the giant monster bird, I fought it.” I might have puffed out my chest a bit in pride.

His brow arched. “I’m impressed. How did you defeat it?”

“Not so much defeat as diverted. I turned it into a ginormous butterfly and convinced it to hunt down its creator instead of harassing me.”

Misha stared at me, and I couldn’t read his flat expression, but Cedric could.

“Crazy as it sounds, she’s telling the truth. Minus the fact she first turned it into a terrifying teddy bear with giant teeth and claws.”

“That would have been a sight to see,” Misha snorted.

“More like terrifying.” Then I added more shyly than usual for me, “I’m glad you found me.”

“And I’m pleased to see you continuing on our journey. I half expected you to turn around and return home.”

“I thought about it, but Cedric talked me into continuing onwards and helped fund this berth. Although I might not have kept it for long if you hadn’t come to my rescue with that ticket collector. I tried to convince him he didn’t need to see my passport, but I don’t think he understood English.”

My statement brought a frown to Misha’s face. “You tampered with his mind?”

“More like tried to make him believe he’d seen my passport and all was good.”

Judging by Misha’s expression, he didn’t approve.

“I take it your people don’t do that.”

“No. free will is sacrosanct.”

“Unless it’s mine, and then you seem to think it’s fine to tell me what to do,” I retorted, a little miffed by his attitude.

He opened his mouth as if to speak and shut it. “I guess that does seem a tad hypocritical. However, there is a difference. I’ve been very upfront about my intentions. Pushing thoughts on to others doesn’t give them a choice.”