Page 100 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Rory nodded immediately, promptly abandoning the image of the two of them cozy together. “Oh, yes, you should definitely try that!”

If they could reassure and include Tom, Rory would feel much better.

Max pulled out his phone and shot off what looked like several texts—right, because Tom had taken himself out of the group chat, so Max would have to send the message twice.

“I let everyone know that you’re back in human form, and I’m proposing taking a look on Friday before D&D. Hopefully everyone will agree to come.”

“Are you upset with David?” Rory asked carefully.

Max shrugged. “I mean, am I totally delighted? Not really. But I believe him when he says he’s not investigating me anymore, and I think he genuinely likes the group. Besides, if he hadn’t been setting me up for investigation, I probably wouldn’t have a D&D group or know any of them, which would be a shame. It’s also sort of nice to know that it’s actually safe to talk amongst the group. I deal with a lot of witches who want spells, but not a lot of friends, you know?”

Rory nodded, because he’d seen that in Max’s life, though he and Alex and the others always seemed to be trying to change that.

Max continued. “And while I guess there are some actions that are completely unforgivable, I think there are many that can be forgiven with time and perspective. He hid something from us, sure. It feels a lot like a betrayal. But he was actually doing his job, and if I had been a corrupt Spellreader, I’d want me to be stopped.” He frowned. “Or, you know, not if it was me, because then I probably wouldn’t want to be stopped. But if there were another corrupt Spellreader out there, I’d want them to be stopped. And it turns out that with the exception of Tom, we were all hiding things from one another—with our own very good reasons, as far as we were each concerned.”

Rory sighed. “Tom’s still pretty upset, huh?”

Max blew out a breath, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. All of us have some sort of connection to the magical world, even if it’s tangential. Although none of us knew about the other—with the exception of Stella and Sam—I assume it feels to Tom like we were all collectively hiding something from him, like he was the odd man out. That’s not a nice feeling.”

Shaking his head, Rory agreed, “No, it isn’t a nice feeling.”

And just like that, they were back at what they’d started talking about.

Max was eyeing him speculatively. “You must have got that a lot as a mythical shifter.”

Chapter Nineteen

Max

Max had… mostly come to the conclusion that Rory was a phoenix. He’d regrown to look very much like Max had imagined a phoenix would look. He’d burst into flames and been reborn from his own ashes, which was pretty definitive.

But there was still part of him that hadn’t been fully ready to believe until he’d heard it from Rory’s mouth directly, until he’d seen the big, beautiful red and gold bird turn back into the man he… well. That was part of the whole issue, wasn’t it?

Rory’s lips tipped up. “Being a mythical shifter is the only experience I’ve ever known. And I’ve compared notes with other mythical shifters over the, uh, years, but we each have plenty of differences in addition to some commonalities.”

Max thought about what Rory wasn’t saying. “You’ve almost never put anything into a number of years. When you said you’d been a bird for ten years—”

“—less than ten years,” Rory corrected. “Almost definitely.”

Max rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Less than ten years, then. I assumed that was a chunk of your life. I know shifters often look younger than they are, but I’ve spent this whole time assuming you can’t be older than, I don’t know, fifty or maybe sixty, if you were aging extremely well as a shifter. You look younger than me. But you’re a lot older than that, aren’t you?”

Rory peeked at him through his tawny lashes, and Max couldn’t quite decide if he knew the effect that had on Max. He raised an eyebrow.

Rory confessed, “I’m kind of a lot old. Like, we weren’t here when dinosaurs roamed the earth or anything like that, but…” He hesitated for a moment and then blurted out, “We like to say centuries, but, uh, millennia is probably more accurate.”

Max stared at him, and then his mouth moved without conscious thought on his part. “That’s one hell of an age gap.”

Rory let out a surprised-sounding laugh, grinning at him. “Yeah, I guess it is. Most of the mythical shifters sleep sometimes. A hibernation-like sleep. For years or decades. Maybe longer.”

“But not you?”

Rory shook his head, then amended, “Well, not exactly. As a mythical shifter, we don’t die. We don’t age, we don’t get sick, and as far as I know, no one has succeeded in killing us. That’s why we’re still here after so much time. I’m sort of the exception to the rule. Unlike the others, I die—and then I’m reborn. I think sometimes I don’t get reborn right away, or maybe the time until I mature is longer. I’m not sure if that’s because I need a rest or it’s not safe or what.” He offered a tentative smile. “But this time, I knew I was safe right away because you were there.”

There was a lump in Max’s throat. “You die to protect people.”

Rory nodded. “Yes. Unlike regular shifters, mythical shifters have a gift, a magical ability in addition to their ability to shift. Mine is a certain knowledge and influence over life and death.”

“Holy shit,” Max said blankly.