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Tammy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me I’ve got wings.”
“No.” Allison chuckled. “You seem more mature. Confident even.”
“Mature, yes. Confident, not so much. That’s why I asked for your help.”
The jogging had turned into a sort of fast walk. Maple was impatient, but recognized she was dealing with two humans with neither wings nor an unlimited capacity to run. Granted, had Tammy come alone, she could have turned into the jaguar and outpaced even the flying Queen Maple. Hmm. Maybe if they needed to make up some time, Tammy could try shifting into a horse and give Allison a ride.
For now, as she jog-walked, Tammy raked both hands up through her hair. “Here’s the scoop. I spent ten years living with faeries, learning how to use this magic, and learning about dark faeries. All for this very reason.”
“Crap… are you serious?” Allison gawked. “I mean about the ten-year part.”
“Yeah, more faerie time weirdness.”
“You don’t look any older. Just... more mature.”
Tammy smirked. “It’s complicated. Short version: she turned me into a little kid again.”
“Okay, that’s super weird.”
“Right?” Tammy gawked at Allison. “I have two different childhoods in my head now and they both feel real.”
“Because they were!” yelled Maple ahead of them. “Stop confusing yourself, child.”
Allison nearly tripped. “Wait. I just understood that.”
“An easy enough spell,” said Maple, calling back. “You can understand it, not speak it. Now hurry!”
A moment later, Allison said, “Crazy to think you had untapped magic. How’d we not notice that before?”
“Elizabeth’s influence. You know what it did to Mom and her magic... or lack thereof.” Tammy casually gestured to one side, summoning a six-foot-high thorny tentacle as thick around as a telephone pole, which promptly clobbered an empty patch of ground nearby before shrinking away. “See? Oh, I can do this, too.” She stopped walking, crouched and grabbed at the ground. Where nothing existed, a peach-like fruit swelled up on a single viny strand. She plucked it, stood, and held it out to Allison. “Been eating these things for years.”
Allison burst out laughing.
“What?” Tammy furrowed her brows. “It’s a giant peach.”
“I know. It’s just…” Allison took the fruit. “I’m laughing because the goth girl has grown into a faerie princess.”
Tammy rolled her eyes. “In a way, yes. But this is serious magic. Like old druids stuff. It can get dark and scary if I have to.”
“So… Tim Burton faeries?” Allison snickered.
“I guess.” Tammy shrugged. “You know I only did the goth thing because I looked the part naturally. Everyone at school assumed I was doing it on purpose, so I dunno… I just ran with it. My mother was a vampire, so it kinda fit.”
Allison nodded. “Okay, so… what are we expecting?”
“The dark faeries have Annie. They’re doing this nasty ritual trying to turn her into one of them.” Tammy explained all she knew of the situation that would—without intervention—invariably lead to a faerie-pocalypse, with Annie either being killed or ceasing to exist as Annie.
“That sounds bad.” Allison whistled.
Maple pivoted to glide backward. “Yes. Being apocalypsed is bad. What they are doing to Annie is worse.”
Allison made a face like she questioned how the complete annihilation of an entire civilization could be consideredlessbad than whatever happened to one human child. Before she could ask, Tammy rested a hand on her arm and shook her head. Faerie logic defied human minds in most cases. Here, it made sense in a way. Maple had strong protective feelings for Annie. Mom would surely think it worse if someone killed Tammy or Anthony than if a thousand total strangers got killed.
Losing one person you love is a tragedy. Ten thousand deaths are a statistic. Or something like that.
Huh. Guess humans don’t make sense on a logical level either.
“I suspect this ritual isn’t too pleasant for Annie, either.” Allison frowned.
