Page 102 of Magical Midlife Conclave

On the third day of the conclave, I faced the Ivy House woods with lead in my gut. Gargoyles and anyone in my team that could fly hovered overhead to watch. Austin, Kingsley, Aljoe, Aurora, and Drex all stood near me in shifter form, my allotted shifter guardian crew, handpicked by the Elder. She didn’t say why. They’d shadow me and act as refs, like in a normal challenge.

Everyone but Austin was wary about that—they didn’t want to mess with that Elder—but they’d all agreed without hesitation.

Other shifters, most from last night, some I didn’t even know, had taken off into the woods as spectators. They hoped to catch the action from a safe distance.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I muttered.

“Nonsense.” Patty patted my arm on one side and Aunt Florence did the same on the other.

“I’m dangerous,” I told them.

“She’s dangerous,” Patty insisted. “She might be more dangerous, even. But it’s okay, dear. She said she wouldn’t kill you. I think we can believe her.”

“Assuming you can’t die from being drop-kicked, of course.” Aunt Florence patted my arm again. “I don’t think you can. No one died last night, and a great many people went sailing.”

Sailing: when you crossed the line and the basajaunak kicked you over the trees. Unless they were too drunk to properly stand, of course. Then the offender ended up tumbling along the ground and into tree trunks.

A couple people who’d gone sailing had to be retrieved by gargoyles who, by then, weren’t such steady fliers.

Drunken brawls had kicked off last night, with the basajaun brew fueling terrible decisions, and giving the basajaunak the competition they craved. The Elder had won, but Dave’s mom had put in a good effort. The basajaunak agreed that she was slightly off in her technique. Too much brew.

“Why am I doing this?” My whole body shook, adrenaline coursing through me. I worried I’d accidentally kill her, yes, but also that she’d pound me into the ground. I’d stood up to her when it was necessary. Now…it wasn’t necessary. I didn’t have as much courage when the only stakes involved were my getting pulverized.

“We do not know, darling.” Aunt Florence lifted her eyebrows at me. “Seems like a bad idea. But you’re full of bad ideas! What’s one more? And look, we have these very powerful shifters ready to help you if something goes wrong, and we have that fabulously handsome gargoyle in the sky⁠—”

“Tristan reads you so well, Jessie,” Patty cut in. “He’ll swoop down and pluck you out of the air if you go sailing, don’t you worry.”

“Is anyone rooting for me?” I asked lamely.

“Of course we are.” Patty nodded adamantly. “Everyone loves a good underdog story.”

“Underdog, great.” I let go a breath. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Warmth and love radiated from the bonds with Austin, and then aggression and fire. I needed to let my gargoyle out.

Connections lit up in my awareness as an impending battle beat on my nerves. Magic started to pump through me.

“There you go. Good. Yes.” Aunt Florence put up a fist. “That’s it. Get ready. We’re with you.”

I thought about changing into my gargoyle form, but then I couldn’t move as fast on the ground. Flying wouldn’t make sense with all the trees. I’d need to start in my human form until I found her, and then…figure it out.

“This is a very strange challenge,” I murmured, setting out.

The goal was to find her within the wood as she stalked me, thwart her attack, and take her down without killing her. Not killing her was literally part of the challenge. If I failed? Well, she died. She apparently had faith that I wouldn’t fail.

But no matter—if I did fail, she held no ill will, and the basajaunak would not avenge her death even though it was a grave insult to harm an elder.

She was much too nonchalant about the whole thing. It made me uncomfortable.

I needed to go through with this, though. I felt it. This was a test of some kind. It wasn’t about power, and it wasn’t about skill. It wasn’t even about my ability to kill or not kill her. There was something else she was looking for, and if I produced whatever it was within this strange trial, she’d be more than distant kin, brought in by Dave. She would choose me—us—as family. We’d have the approval and blessing of an elder. In their culture, that was a huge deal.

So here I was, agreeing to all her terms. Ivy House was keeping everyone’s whereabouts from me, but the Elder could still feel me through the trees.

“It is starting to worry me that you haven’t figured out how to circumvent that trick of mine,” Ivy House said as I walked toward the wood.

“I’ve been freaking busy,” I groused, ticking off the list. “I don’t have all the right spells, Nessa wants me to learn about ley lines and nexuses and whatever else, Sebastian wants help going through the books in your library⁠—

“Focus on the task at hand,” she cut in, “or you’ll get thwapped by treetops. Getting drop-kicked will be embarrassing.”