How to Find a Were (Hermia)

[Josiah Gray]

The last of the great ice blocks levitated slowly down onto the ground in front of the town. The shape of an angry hell hound was just visible within each one, suspended in what had been water just a moment before their unexpected frosting.

"Are they really dead?" one member of the small crowd thought to speak up at last, hopeful and excited. "You really got them?"

The young mage, feeling the more conspicuous for the - albeit necessary - display of magic in front of them. Having all eyes on him was never something he was used to. The look of mixed fear, nervousness, and startled wonder on their faces of how their now helpless and captive persecutors were kept wasn't helping either. Being terrorized by a group of fire-breathing hounds will do that to a group of farmers.

So he tried looking at the ground, or the ice cubes, instead.

"I'm, I'm fairly certain," he set out to say, looking more intently at the bodies.

"Fairly certain?" someone else asked, questioning and rattled. "What do you mean, fairly certain?"

He gulped once, glancing at the questioner and then looking away.

"W-well, with demons -" he started slowly, to try and explain the intricacies of varying demonic life processes, only to be interrupted by the crowd.

"Are they going to wake up? Can they get out? They can't get out can they?"

Pressure rose, quite rapidly, inside the target of the crowd. It swelled up from his chest, and set his skin on fire - itching, burning, fire that slowed responses and garbled his tongue, even as they peppered him with further questions. His eyes focused more on the set of runes previously engraved into the ice blocks, and the magical purpose given to them already.

The spectral dragon roared.

The mage flinched beneath him.

Loud and evocative of lion regality, the dragon roared and got everyone's attention from where he sat perched like a gargoyle atop the last block. Conversations and questions were squashed in an instant.

"Dead or alive doesn't matter," he voiced loudly, firmly, taking command of the entire audience with a voice that seemed better reserved for giving threats. "They're stuck."

He slammed a draconic paw down on the ice block to make the point.

"The runes on the side, will keep them frozen," he enunciated each phrase with a slight beat between. "They are not getting out."

"They're … they're demonic, so…" Josiah tried to add in, now that the crowd wasn't so restless. "So I figured … you can sell them."

"Sell them?" a person chimed in, only to step back upon the dragon's latest glare-growl combo.

[Hermia]

"Yes, sell them. I'd buy them... 'scuse me. 'Scuse me. 'Scuse me..."

A flash of yellow hair shifted at the back of the miniature crowd, invoking exclamations and murmurs as the girl in her tattered brown smock began shoving her way to the front of the crowd without an ounce of ladylike grace or childish timidity. She finally arrived, her mud-streaked face bearing a rosy tint from the exertion, and put herself between the mage and the crowd.

"I'd buy them," she said again. "Hellhounds. Fur, teeth, eyes, horns, insides - a scrap of these could fetch anyone a small fortune on the black market, and even better for you, these aren't as spoiled as they usually come." She stepped around the ice blocks as she spoke, studying the script carved into them with the hawkish intent of a teacher before an essay.

She lifted a fist, knuckles out, and rapped it against the ice. Tilted an ear closer, repeated the process for another side. "Did you do these?" Half the question was out before she had fully turned to face the mage. "They're decent. Not my preferred language of spells, but they'll hold nicely -"

"Who're you?"

"Don't interrupt," the girl snapped, looking less and less like a peasant girl with each moment that passed. She turned to address the heckler, and the severe expression froze and died away as she noticed the number of hands that now gripped their pitchforks and shovels with the definite intent of using them. "It's... not polite..."

Hermia gulped.

For what little additional security it brought, she took a step closer to the mage. "Pardon me. Finite Obtentus."

A sharp intake of breath rose from the gathered assembly as colors cascaded off the girl like water. Dirty straw-blonde hair gave way to smooth black, interrupted twice by a pair of furry pointed ears where humans didn't grow ears. The sack-like dress melted with the rest of the magical glamor, revealing the leggings of her tunic - clothing that did nothing to conceal the three light brown tails that grew out from her lower back.

"I'm the mage from Camford," she announced to the stunned silence.

A number of hands relaxed their grip on their makeshift weapons. A few others tightened.

Hermia took another step closer to the other mage. "The mage from Camford," she repeated in a louder volume. "The one you sent a request for? To deal with your demon problem?" She rapped her knuckles against the nearest pane of ice for emphasis. "That one?"

One brave soul piped up at last. "You're late."

As a number of other voices rose in a chorus of agreement, Hermia tried her best not to think about how a nice rain of toads might improve the overall ambiance of the village. She turned her head to indicate the human mage. "He's early."

[Josiah Gray]

The dragon lazed atop the ice block, growling every so often as he let the crowd and the fox get into their own little debate. It was no ectoplasmic hide off his ghostly back if the focus of an almost-mob's attitude was focused more on someone else than on Josiah. For his part, the young mage himself seemed only a little less stressed, even as his eyes watched the tennis game replies between crowd and fox figure, radiating magic like a light from a lightbulb.

"I'm the mage from Camford," she announced to the stunned silence.

The crowd shifted in their place.

The fox fey took another step closer, and Josiah inhaled - an intake of breath that somehow sounded even louder to himself than it should have been. Camford was a big place - a school for mages, relatively nearby, though not one he'd seen in person.

'The' mage implied something specific, though not a specific that he knew anything about. He doubted it was a title.

"The mage from Camford," she repeated louder, as if that would suddenly cause some kind of recognition with them by adding a few decibles. "The one you sent a request for? To deal with your demon problem? That one?"

Silent understanding came to the forefront, but any comment he might have made stayed just that: silent.

"You're late," someone else ventured, and stirred the crowd with comments of the same. Annoyance bubbled beneath the fey's surface, and he took another deep breath - dragon and mage alike wary of a conflict brewing beneath her surface, like fire simmering beneath a layer of ice.

She turned her head to face him, and the ice felt like it was on his neck instead. "He's early."

That he had backed up against the block, hands in front of him, may have had something to do with that. Guardian instinct kicked in and the dragon rumbled, leaning down over the edge of the ice, over Josiah's shoulder, to intercede draconic features with human.

"We arrived when we arrived," he said firmly, flatly, and with an edge of overbearance that bordered on dominance and protectiveness. "They needed help, so we helped them. Arguing over who's early and who's late is stupid. The threat's been dealt with. The people are safe."

Then, louder and directed to the crowd, the spectral dragon roared out, "Sell the hounds. Use the money to repair the damages, buy guards, get satellite tv - whatever. Our involvement ends here. If anyone sees the saber-were, you know how to contact us."

[Hermia]

The translucent being atop the ice blocks, apparently the spokesman of the two, growled in objection and leaned down to bring himself closer to the human. "We arrived when we arrived..."

Well, you can't say fairer than that, then. Hermia put her irritation aside to examine the two figures: protecting spirit and halfway-to-panicking human. Nothing wrong with being early; I'll just have to remember to be earlier...

Regardless of the little bruises the duo had dealt to her ego by beating her to the prize, there clearly wouldn't be anything to gain from making enemies out of them. They'd gotten here first. They'd frozen an entire pack of hellhounds solid - a dozen minor demons, trapped forever in mint condition with hardly a scratch on the two of them. Even she didn't think she could have achieved that clean a victory.

Skill like that I could stand to learn from -

The dragon spirit was wrapping up his speech already. "Sell the hounds. Use the money to repair the damages, buy guards, get satellite TV - whatever. Our involvement ends here. If anyone sees the saber-were, you know how to contact us."

At least there was still something she could do.

"I'd like to buy the hounds," she said again. "All of them."

The farmers shifted, looking less uneasy than before. Disjointed whispers began to rise again. Among the jumble of words and voices, she caught the words "black market" and "sell them ourselves".

"And I'll take care of the repairs." That stopped them short. "All of them. Much faster than you could on your own."

Some of those at the forefront were starting to look more interested. "I'll take the hounds as payment. And I'll ward your farms against crow attacks. And, I'll be gone long before the team from the Ministry of Wildlife arrives to confiscate the hounds for their own research, without a single penny in return for all your trouble."

The farmers were beginning to look very interested.

"Um..." Hermia glanced from the frozen hellhounds to the nearby town, then to the distant figures of the two departing mages. "What kind of repairs are we talking about, exactly?"

* * *

Straw crunched against scrub, a light patter travelling over the ground in the rhythm of running feet. The simulacrum of the fox-faerie, a straw doll given life and color and shape by three hairs, a drop of blood, a breath of air, and a spoken word, ran headlong across the open field, easily crossing the space that kept its flesh-and-blood counterpart from her query.

The likeness of Hermia stopped several feet behind the human and dragon, shedding a few stalks of dried chaff as it skidded. "Excuse me again," she called out to the two. "I... sorry. This isn't really me, but I'm rather busy at the moment. You're looking for someone, aren't you? I think I might be able to help, once I've finished the repairs. D'you mind waiting somewhere nearby? Back inside town would be best. You look the capable type, but I'd rather not chance a meeting in the wilds after dark. If you're interested, I'll be at the local inn this evening. I hope."

The figure looked upward at something it couldn't see, and blanched. "They're hounds," it muttered, exasperated. "Hounds don't go up on rooftops - it isn't natural - I don't - they..." It looked back at the human mage, its expression slightly darker. "Caledonians," it hissed. "Bloody cutthroat pirates, every last one of them - this may take until nightfall, so maybe rent a room for yourselves, if you're staying - oh, Mab freeze this miserable little money-grubbing - I'm coming already!" The final exclamation was shouted at an invisible someone, somewhere to its left.

The straw likeness turned back to the pair. "Sorry. Can't talk now. Local inn, tonight. Don't ever do business with Caledonians. They'll eat your house, sell your brother, marry your chickens..."

The figure dissipated into its component elements, its task completed. Stalks of dry grass scattered and fell in a gentle wind, still carrying faint whispers of condemnation against the country and all it stood for.

[Josiah Gray]

Something magic their way came, a moving point that rapidly approached them from the direction of the town behind.

Fox fey? Josiah asked of his counterpart telepathically.

The dragon, transparent, turned around to observe the approaching figure that read as magical energies from top to bottom.

Fox fey, he returned, sounding more annoyed than the cautious voice of Josiah.

As it came closer, the protective spirit bared itself to the world again, just to make a point. Both turned around to greet what Josiah new outright was not the real "her."

"Excuse me again," she called out, as if politely requesting a repeat audience. "I... sorry. This isn't really me, but I'm rather busy at the moment."

"I noticed," Josiah said before the dragon could catch him. The spirit gave him a split second glare to remind him, You're not supposed to give out your abilities.

"You're looking for someone, aren't you?" she continued to ask as if she didn't notice.

Dragon and mage exchanged another glance - one tentatively hopeful, one fully skeptical.

"We are…" Josiah said, hedging a bet that the dragon wouldn't take offense with that too.

"I think I might be able to help, once I've finished the repairs. D'you mind waiting somewhere nearby? Back inside town would be best. You look the capable type, but I'd rather not chance a meeting in the wilds after dark. If you're interested, I'll be at the local inn this evening. I hope."

The pair ignored the simulacrum for a moment, exchanging words within themselves.

I don't trust Fox fey. They're tricksters, the dragon growled telepathically, which made the noise somehow feel like it was all around the mage instead of inside.

You shouldn't stereotype... It's not like we have a lot of other leads, Jo replied quietly, reasoning. None of our contacts have chimed in yet, so … If it's a trick -

She runs off with all our belongings and leaves you naked in the middle of town?

The mage tried not to blush in horrifying potential embarrassment.

Okay, so we've officially identified the worst case scenario.

Wouldn't the worst case scenario be, I don't know, you dying?

You have got to get your priorities straight.

"I'm coming already!" The final exclamation broke their conversation, and all the dirty minds looked left.

"Sorry. Can't talk now," she said fast.

No wonder…

Josiah bopped the dragon on the nose with a telekinetic newspaper.

"I gathered," he returned.

"Local inn, tonight," she set up the meeting. "Don't ever do business with Caledonians. They'll eat your house, sell your brother, marry your chickens..."

Marry your chickens? That must have been some org -

The metaphorical newspaper struck again.

And then the bit of walking magic dissipated, and there was just the spectral dragon and the awkward mage.

May as well… they thought in unison.

…..


The inn was an enjoyable enough place - even more so because the threat of the hounds had been dealt with, and they'd gotten more than their money's worth out of a deal-bound fey. A handful had taken to playing instruments to add to the celebration, lighting the place up with a lively tune. Three or four pairs had taken to the floor, and claimed it for dancing.

When the people weren't two steps away from (unintentionally?) forming a mob, they seemed a rather cheerful sort. Presumably, all the alcohol on their lips helped with that, too. Josiah, having never had the taste for it himself, denied the offer of a drink or two on the house. A root beer, however, was happily accepted.

From where he was, trying to inconspicuously sit in the corner, waiting for the fey … he realized he'd forgotten how close farming communities were. There was something about fighting the wild and working with the land that brought people together, even if their individual homes were miles away. If they hadn't been fire blasting hell dogs, the people most likely would have been able to deal with the problem on their own.

Perched atop the inn's roof, the dragon waited, transparently watching the night scene play out around the small town.

How long are we supposed to wait? the spirit complained to his counterpart.

I don't know, Josiah returned. She said tonight. She's probably still fixing, doing something for them…

[Hermia]

She hit her boots with the strongest cleaning charm she could snarl under her breath, and still felt like she'd walked through a swamp. An evil swamp. From hell. She took a few more steps, studied the path behind her for soiled footprints, found none, and grated out another cleaning spell.

Dung. So much dung. Dung everywhere.

She was going to have so much fun dissecting those miserable creatures before she popped their entrails into the cauldron.

I hate hellhounds.

Not all the villagers seemed to have gotten the memo that she wasn't one of the evil faeries. Hermia ducked a flung apple and itched to bring her wand out and turn that whole lot of jeering children into a herd of swine.

I hate Caledonians.

She didn't manage to quite dodge the next one. It bounced off the thick blue tail sticking out of her haversack, which gave a sharp twitch. Its owner gave a sleepy growl and began to stir.

And church steeples, and farms, and goblins, and crows, and people. And Caledonians. Especially Caledonians. Penny-pinching Caledonians and their horrid weather and their monsters and their haggis.

She stepped out of the cold evening and into blazing, bustling merriment. It reeked of farmers.

Hermia blasted the nonexistent stains off her clothing a few more times as she stepped deeper in, scanning the room as she did. Not the mage, not the mage, still not the mage - there, in the corner. The dragon-spirit wasn't around. Probably invisible, or off haunting somewhere else.

"Terribly sorry." She slid into the unoccupied seat at the end of the table opposite from the human, shrugged the satchel strap off one shoulder, and carefully lowered it to the ground to keep from disturbing its occupants. The reptilian tail twitched again and a clawed hind foot slid out. The satchel continued moving as the one living passenger started scrabbling for freedom.

She gave it a sharp prod. "Stay."

The hind foot and tail went limp, still sticking out of the bag.

"Now, I believe..." a hand went to her left pocket to retrieve her wand. "Just... don't mind me..."

She aimed the wand at the floor by her foot. "Serpensortia." Black smoke poured from the tip, gathered on the ground and coalesced into the form of a small snake.

"Personal business," she explained, before pointing the wand again. "Few more moments. Serpensortia. Serpensortia. Serpensortia..."

Six pairs of glittering black eyes focused on her. She brandished her wand over the whole group and spoke again. "Offuscare."

Color and shape melted away, until all that remained of the conjured snakes was a collection of faint, blurred outlines. She pictured the group of apple-wasting junior miscreants in her mind as she gave them a final instruction. "Seek. Bite them."

Scales rustled over the ground as her invisible troops moved out to war.

Hermia looked back up at the mage. "Grass snakes. Non-poisonous. Incapable of inflicting any harm other than terror and mild foot injury. Good alternative for when you shouldn't turn people into livestock. A few egos need damaging. Nothing to do with you. Now, I believe you need help finding someone?"

[Josiah Gray]

The fox fey was a whirlwind of motion and emotion, bubbling and sliding against so many other things. "Something" in her bag told him that she was walking for two.

"Terribly sorry," she slid into a seat across from him. The bag with something alive was set down, then took a prod to stop from wanting out.

"No worries," Josiah said, deflecting the issue. The wait hadn't been intolerable by any means. After all, the people had been … 'colorful.' "They left me alone. And that's good," he amended his own statement, just to be sure the right message had been declared.

"Now, I believe..." she started reaching for something. In the back of his mind, he felt the dragon bristle.

"Just… don't mind me..."

Lord minded. He chose to be patient, and observed the fey acting out her magic. He saw as much as felt the magic, the way she put it together and the intent guiding smoke into shape, into a semblance of life, albeit temporary.

"Personal business," she answered curious eyes, before going back to it. "Few more moments. Serpensortia. Serpensortia. Serpensortia..."

Six pairs of glittering black eyes focused on her. She brandished her wand over the whole group and spoke again. "Offuscare."

His brows furrowed as she worked another spell, and started to infer the possible intent.

"If you don't mind my asking, you're doing this because…"

He felt the negativity and resentment behind her simple commands of "Seek. Bite them."

"Grass snakes. Non-poisonous," she explained, even if she completely failed to assuage his worries. "Incapable of inflicting any harm other than terror and mild foot injury. Good alternative for when you shouldn't turn people into livestock. A few egos need damaging. Nothing to do with you. Now, I believe you need help finding someone?"

He tried to mask shocked concern. It might have still shown on his features, but he at least tried.

"Uh. Yeahhh," he said simply. "I … I'm looking for someone, yeah…"

Lord?

He felt the spectral dragon bristle on the edge of his consciousness.

Hmph. I'll deal with them.

The touch slowly became more distant, as he felt the dragon move and away on a search and destroy mission of his own, with six points of moving magic as his target. He would have compared it to a video game - killing rats in the first level - if only ghost dragons played video games.

Hint: they don't.

"A were," Josiah clarified after another second. "I'm looking for a were."

[Hermia]

"Hmm." Hermia frowned, considering. "You're looking for a were. That's not the best place to start. I presume you'll give me more information than that to go on?"

She brought her hand to the tabletop, palm upturned. "Accio." There was a tiny spark, and a pewter mug exploded out of nothing to land in her hand. The wand came out again, this time pointed into the mug. "Transfero..."

She met the human's eyes as a thin stream of steaming, fragrant liquid began to pour into the mug. "A name, for instance. Preferably the one they're most comfortable with. Who they introduce themself as. Their age. Their magical abilities, what species of animal they are when they get angry. Or something off their body. Hair, nail clippings, blood, finite."

The last word was directed at the mug, and caused the stream of liquid to come to an abrupt end.

"Anything and everything about them, really," she explained. "Or as much as you're comfortable with telling me, to help focus the tracking spell."

She lifted the mug to her lips and took a long draught of its contents. "Oh, here - " she set it down and lifted her wand again. "It's patchouli and nettle tea. Works wonders for sharpening memory." The wand hovered over the rim of the man's own empty glass. "Have some?"

[Josiah Gray]

The human mage watched her continued use of magicry with more interest, and less concern. 

"Uh... I've never had it," Josiah said at last, looking from the newly filled mug to her wand. A skeptical (read: distrusting) dragon would have told him to say no. A skeptical dragon would also have told him to avoid taking candy from strangers - which is a bad comparison, really.

The dragon would be right about one of those, but there didn't seem to be any deception or malicious intent behind her offering. 

With a gulp, Josiah added, "Couldn't hurt to try it, I guess..."

"And ... yeah. Of course. I was going to tell you more, if you could help," Josiah said with just a bit more confidence. 

"I have ... some skill, with clairvoyance," he ventured to say. "I've tried tracking him, but ... I ... I think he's blocking me on purpose."

He felt like there should be a ticking clock - one of those grandfather ones that made the seconds seem even longer then they were for some reason. The partying farmers felt like such an inappropriate backdrop for all this. Once more his features betrayed the awkwardness of his emotions, eyebrows slightly crunching in. 

In the back of his mind, he felt the dragon start munching on stealthy snake skirmishers. 

"He's my brother: Elijah Gray."

The name felt odd on his tongue, like a foreign word, a lost language. That made it all the worse to hear with his ears. 

"He has brown hair, and tan skin... generally hairy... He's muscular, but not ... not like bodybuilders who take steroids. He works out a lot. Or worked out a lot. I don't know what he's doing now. He's not like me. He's a saber-tooth, when he transforms. He's my age: 21. We're ... we're twins, really," he said with more sadness then there should have been. 

"But we don't look it. I don't have any hair or anything from him, but ... There's me?" he ventured like a question. "We have the same DNA, officially..."

[Hermia]

The wand was obligingly tilted, the incantation spoken to divert more tea from the flask in her bag to the other mage's glass. Hermia kept her ears on the human's words, giving the occasional murmur of acknowledgment; once she had both hands free, another spell summoned notepad and pencil to them, and she began to write.

"Elijah Grey," she repeated, ears twitching at the tone of voice that carried them. Were-sabertooth. Knowledge of anti-scrying spells. Estranged? Twins. Was silently pencilled in below.

"I don't have any hair or anything from him, but... there's me?"

"There's you," Hermia agreed, squeezing Identical into the space just above Twins.

"We have the same DNA, officially..."

"Almost." The fox-faerie turned to glance at the door. Beyond-human senses scanned the air, and detected nothing beyond the usual bustle of village life. Not a single terrified scream. "Identical twins aren't a complete genetic match, but you're similar enough that it shouldn't be a problem. Until we run into his own magic, anyway..."

Still no screams. Maybe the snakes had taken a wrong turn? Startled a horse and gotten trampled? Been run over by a carriage?

Miserable place, this town was.

"So what magic does he use?" Her attention returned to pencil and paper. "When did you last see him? How good was he when it came to magic? Did he have any magical artefacts that he wouldn't want to part with?"

"And," she flipped to a new page. "I'm probably not the first person to have joined the search for your brother. Have you involved other mages? Local authorities? Have you issued a bounty? People like bounties."

[Josiah Gray]

The mage opened a mental pad of paper as he was suddenly bombarded with a flurry of questions, struggling to catch them all. Sipping a tea that was supposed to increase memory seemed like a good idea. 

"So what magic does he use? When did you last see him? How good was he when it came to magic? Did he have any magical artifacts that he wouldn't want to part with?"

"And, I'm probably not the first person to have joined the search for your brother. Have you involved other mages? Local authorities? Have you issued a bounty? People like bounties."

"Uhhh..." his eyes shifted upper left as he tried to run down each one in order. 

"He's telekinetic, uses enchanted items ... He was tier 2, last I saw him, so ... Probably still is ... He had swords? I don't know about artifacts beyond that, so ... That probably won't help ..."

"We ... He left," an interrupting breath felt painful in his chest, "A few months ago. In the night."

Memory alone dug into the back of his throat and made it harder to swallow. The liveliness of the room seemed to get more distant, as the world tunnel-visioned in on the fey, and more frequently, a space just to off to either side of her. He shifted the glass side to side, angling it just a little bit, contents shifting according to gravity. 

"I've been asking people to keep a look out for me, all over... some mages ... My teacher thinks we need space apart, so ... The Dragon Knights aren't being so helpful on that front ... No bounties though. I didn't ... I don't think that's a good idea, since... well, being a were. Some people might get the wrong idea..."

[Hermia]

"He's telekinetic, uses enchanted items..."

"Hmm..."

"He was tier two, last I saw him, so ... Probably still is..."

"So he shouldn't be too successful against a third-tier who knows what she's doing," Hermia noted.

"He had swords? I don't know about artifacts beyond that, so ... That probably won't help ..."

"It does," she said, adding magical swords to the list.

"I've been asking people to keep a look out for me, all over... some mages... My teacher thinks we need space apart, so... The Dragon Knights aren't being so helpful on that front..."

The fox wrinkled her nose. "So much for helping people," she muttered.

"No bounties," she concluded. "You could specify that you need him alive and well... though he wouldn't appreciate being brought to you in a net... never mind..."

Her eyes went all the way up to the top of the list, then began making their way down again at a much slower pace. Slitted pupils grew wide and round, blackness spreading to blot out the yellow of her irises as she took in the knowledge and let it percolate through.

"A were, at tier two..." Which could mean one of two things. "Was he bitten?"

".... Y-yess..."

She cast a surreptitious glance at the human's expression through the reflection in her tea.

"And he didn't take it well." And you didn't.

"... He did ... at least, I think he did ... at first..."

"...until he left?"

"He... had a few issues."

"Issues..." She forced herself not to look up, or even glance at the man's reflection. Humans could get awfully touchy about being seen in a vulnerable moment. "The usual... were-related issues?"

"Yeah. The usual."

"I... see." The wand went back to the man's glass. "Transfero..." Steaming tea filled the empty space, almost to the brim.

"We'll come back to him later." She waited a few more seconds before looking up at him, pupils thin and vertical in golden irises once more. "For now... you're quite a resourceful mage, you know." She flipped the notepad to a new page and readied her pen. "One pack of hellhounds, neatly killed and preserved... mind telling me more about what you can do?"

[Josiah Gray]

"We'll come back to him later," she said at long last, and for some reason, he felt relief. A weight putting pressure on his nerves let up slowly. 

"Oh," he said softly, brows slightly furrowed as if he has expected her to say something else. "Alright..."

"For now," she started, "You're quite a resourceful mage, you know."

A small shiver passed down his spine, from the back of his neck to somewhere at his lower back. His pupils dilated, widening at the lids too as he was caught off guard. 

"I am?" he swallowed the question, head cocking off to one side as he felt his cheeks getting warm. "I don't - I mean, I ... What makes you think that?"

"One pack of hellhounds, neatly killed and preserved..." she led his thoughts to her conclusion. 

He thought back to the cave, and the way they'd had to draw them into that one part of the cavern, beneath the underground reservoir. Preparation can go a long way in any encounter, and scouting the environment beforehand with clairvoyance had seen him well prepared. 

"Mind telling me more about what you can do?"

A dragon grumbled with just a slight hint of anger at the back of his mind, now undistracted by sorcelled stealth snakes. Lord had returned to his roost atop the inn, and thus returned his attention back to where it was most meant to be: Josiah. Psychic connection relayed his feelings on the matter well enough. 

If spectral dragons could have twitching veins, Josiah presumed there would be one on the dragon's forehead. 

If she hurts you -

It's for Elijah, Josiah cut him off at the pass. I ... I know. But it's for Elijah. If she can help ....

The dragon huffed, even as he lazily munched another magic snake between his teeth. 

We'll see, he said at long last. 

"Sorry," Josiah said as he seemed to shake out of a daydream. "The dragon ... the spirit - he minds. He ... he doesn't like me sharing things."

His left hand idly wrapped around the amethyst amulet that hung around his neck, the thumb stroking over the back of it slowly in a nervous habit. 

"He's ... paranoid like that," Josiah tried to explain.

There was that vein twitch again. 

"Guardian spirit. It's ... kind of always on for him."

The dragon huffed as Josiah took another drink.

It's called being vigilant. You aren't, so I am.

Josiah acknowledged, but didn't respond to that.

"I guess you could say ... I'm ... I'm versatile," he tried to explain, thinking more on how to phrase what he could do without going too far into the specifics. The longer he went on, the more his gaze slipped off to the right side, feeling more insecure the more he opened up.  "I'm a mind mage, mostly... I'm a ... a pretty good psychic ... Already saw my runes... Think you said those were 'decent'."

There was that tingle at the back of his neck again, too. He rubbed at it with his left hand, then took another drink of the beverage she provided to him. 

"I've also got ... well, I'm ... handy, with the elements. The classic four, and others ... Wood included. I can grow my own food, when I'm hungry..."

[Hermia]

There was a long and significant pause.

"Sorry," the human said at last. "The dragon... the spirit - he minds. He... he doesn't like me sharing things." One hand moved, retreating to find safety in the touch of a silver amulet set with a blue jewel. "He's... paranoid like that."

The next pause was momentary, but also significant. Put together with the previous silence and the man's shift of expression, it looked like a conversation that she couldn't hear.

"Guardian spirit. It's... kind of always on for him."

She dutifully added a blank line, for his name, with guardian spirit in dragon amulet (?) and telepathic link(?) below.

The internal debate seemed to go on a few seconds longer, before he spoke again.

"I guess you could say... I'm... I'm versatile." His gaze started to slip away from Hermia's eyes and away to the side. The fox turned to follow it, diverting her own gaze from the other mage. Maybe that would make him a little less nervous.

"I'm a mind mage, mostly... I'm a... a pretty good psychic... already saw my runes... think you said those were 'decent'."

"I did," Hermia nodded. Psychic. Written runes. Script looks Kusanagian. "Because they were."

"I've also got... well, I'm... handy, with the elements." Hermia bent lower over her notes as she filled in the next detail so he wouldn't see the way her eyes lit up for a moment. "The classic four, and others... wood included. I can grow my own food, when I'm hungry..."

"Or you could grow bait and trap your own dinner, if you were in the mood for variety," she suggested. "It takes quite a capable mage to exterminate a pack of hellhounds without a scratch. I don't think I could have done it myself," she half-muttered in a more rueful tone.

"For them to come out of a successful extermination without a scratch either - that's something in a class all by itself. I'll be able to put my research a few months ahead of schedule. Thanks to you. I've met my fair share of mages, in and out of Camford, and I'd easily rank you among the best."

She watched him turn pink for a few seconds. That snippy professor had been wrong after all. She clearly had the whole "diplomacy" thing in the bag.

"To get to the point," she said, "I think I can help you. I should help you - I've already bought the hellhounds off the farmers," she grimaced at the memory, "but they're not much more than a middle-man with exorbitant prices. I suspect they've hardly paid you anything. So I'll help you find your brother - but I think you could help me too."

She turned to the door again. No hisses. No slithering noises of scales over grass and stone pavement. No blood-curdling shrieks of little children getting what they deserved. She gave the snakes up as a lost cause and returned to face the human. "I'm a good mage in my own right," she began, "but there are a number of things I simply can't get done on my own. I need someone like you."

Trouble's tail twitched and bumped into her leg. Her brief glance down at her backpack brought to mind the reason she'd come back to Greenwich and its terrible weather when Fleur had been so much more pleasant at this time of the year.

She leaned a few inches closer. "I know some humans get worked up over this, but it's important. I thought you might be a virgin. Are you a virgin?"

[Josiah Gray]

Ohhh dear the dragon grumbled, rolling his eyes to himself and switching which arm he was resting his head on.

Josiah went directly to scarlet. He did not pass red, he did not get makeup, spaghetti sauce, or markers. He went directly to scarlet, even as the room temperature shot up fifteen degrees. He coughed on something. He wasn't sure on what, but he was less concerned with that than with metaphorically grabbing the magical thermostat, and twisting the knob down several degrees until he was comfortable.

You're going to need help again… the dragon said. Josiah expected the words "Aren't you?" to follow and make it a question. That didn't happen.

"A, uh, v-virgin?" the mage whispered the word back even as his cheeks burned in the lowering temperature bubble around him. "I - I, uh, I don't - I mean, that's not really - I haven't really - Why would I -"

A spectral figure slid through the wall into the seat between it and Josiah, a dragon coming to his mage's rescue. More humanoid, and much less large, his sudden appearance in the corner went unnoticed by the rest of the tavern. As translucent as himself, simple white garments put on a small sense of modesty.

Without wasting a beat, the dragon thumbed a claw in Josiah's direction, "He's a virgin," then pointed one more menacingly at the woman, "And you're Fey, fox fey, Tier 3 but probably not that old, a proficient spoken mage, implied to have knowledge of written spells, and from your interest in hell hounds, likely a material mage as well. You're analytical but lack social skills with human crowds, but let's face it, who can reason well with crowds. You hate Caledonia, as most non-Caledonians do, but sound like you attended Camford for some time, so you most likely came here from Arcadia at some point in your life, potentially with the creature in your bag, so now that we've established we both know a lot about the other, you can stop buttering him up and get to the real question: how does being a virgin help you, and please don't say unicorns."

Josiah died a little bit behind his hands.

[Hermia]

"A, uh, v-virgin?" He turned very red. "I - I, uh, I don't - I mean, that's not really - I haven't really - Why would I -"

"Yes. A virgin." Hermia diplomatically leaned back out of the stuttering man's personal space and took a diplomatic sip of her tea. "You don't strike me as the type who's -"

The dragon spirit made his appearance in style, ghosting through the wall to join them at the table. Hermia jerked back with an alarmed shriek and choked on her tea.

"He's a virgin."

"Nobody - asked - you," she spluttered. The dragon ignored her completely and plowed on with the mercy and tact of a very large train.

"And you're Fey, fox fey, Tier Three but probably not that old, a proficient spoken mage, implied to have knowledge of written spells, and from your interest in hell hounds, likely a material mage as well. You're analytical but lack social skills with human crowds, but let's face it, who can reason well with crowds. You hate Caledonia, as most non-Caledonians do, but sound like you attended Camford for some time, so you most likely came here from Arcadia at some point in your life, potentially with the creature in your bag, so now that we've established we both know a lot about the other, you can stop buttering him up and get to the real question: how does being a virgin help you, and please don't say unicorns."

"I..." Hermia's face began turning red as well. "You... nobody asked you - you - "

The fox chased her voice around in a few more circles, finally cornering and pouncing on her grasp of intelligible speech after a brief but violent mental struggle. "Well - it does!"

She realized she was gripping her wand very tightly. Taking a deep, calming breath, she carefully set it down on the table, facing away from both dragon spirit and human, and thought nice calming thoughts about not turning intangible entities into solid compost.

"You need to find your brother." I will not hex that dragon spirit. I will not hex that dragon spirit. I will not hex that dragon spirit. "He's blocking tracing spells. He's still likely to be at tier two, but if he's focused on blocking you, and every mage the two of you might have ever met - if he's bloody-minded enough, which most weres tend to be - he's likely to succeed. And even then, that's assuming he's still inside your range. You have virtually an entire planet to search, to find someone who's actively avoiding you. That's where I can help."

"Accio." Another white spark brought a white candle to her hand. She set it down within reach of the other two, allowing them to study the rings of faintly glowing runes and the metallic red filament that waited to be set alight. "The quickest way to travel is by candlelight."

"Babylon Candles," she said. "I made these under conditions that bring my magical strength closer to a fourth-tier mage. Monarch butterfly scales for distance. Dragonfly wings for speed. Runes for swift travel. Normally, you'd know exactly where you were going - think of a place, everything you can about it, light the candle -" she set her mug down and turned the candle to point directly at it, "- and it'll send you along a straight line in a non-corporeal form until you get there. Places don't usually move around. If they're protected by a general anti-scrying ward, one weaker than tier four, or at least not specifically designed to block one of these, my magic should be able to take you through it."

"People are another story. They're never in the last place you left them. Tell it to look for a living, breathing, moving person - " She held the candle again, spun it, and let it whirl around until it came to an eventual stop, pointing at no one in particular. "And this happens. You might get lucky. The candle might be able to launch you halfway across the world before fizzling out and landing you on solid ground. A master mage would have a way around that little issue, but unfortunately I'm quite far from being one. The best I can do is give you several candles, so you can teleport back out if you find yourself in a pinch. And, of course, make sure you do get lucky."

"Hence, unicorns." She briefly considered summoning her field notes to let them have a look, but something in the dragon spirit's eyes advised her against it. "Their body parts are associated with spells for healing, breaking curses, binding the restless dead - all sorts of altruistic, people-helping things. And good fortune. Unicorn horn powder turns up in potions that can rewrite probability for the better. Of course, I'm not about to suggest we go slaughter a herd of unicorns - that's what taking their horns does to them, after all - which is why we need to go for their tail hairs instead."

"I know where to find a herd of unicorns," she explained. "They're not very willing to part with their tail hairs - no one else would be, if you tried plucking hair out of their heads, but they border on unreasonable. I can cloak myself well enough to avoid their notice at first, but that's only long enough to get a few strands before they chase me up a tree and I have to leave in a hurry. And that's where you come in."

"You'll distract them for just twenty minutes, I'll pluck the tail hairs, we divide what I collected, and you'll get the luck boost you need to make the most of a jaunt to somewhere unknown. You're a good person, you see. At least, you're too nervous to be someone with a bad heart. Unicorns like humans with good hearts. They also like virgins. The spiritual purity attracts them, or so I'm told. However it happens, they become docile. Quieter. Calmer. In short, less likely to stampede and trample me flat."

[Josiah Gray]

Babylon Candles, the dragon repeated, following along with her business proposal.

A fast-travel spell … capable of locating a person, not a place, Josiah noted, raising his gaze up slightly even while keeping half his face still covered by his hands.

A rare option.

A combined desire-reading, long-distance sensory enchantment mixed with incorporeality and rapid flight - an extremely complicated and almost as unreliable an option because of that complexity, the young mage pointed out the major flaw in the system. He breathed deep as he let the details rack up, his hands falling down to the table in front of him before noting that, It certainly says something of her abilities, that she can make something like that to begin with.

The dragon mentally grunted back at him, but the fey had already shown herself to be the intelligent sort. She had a plan even for that...

"20 minutes, to get the hairs you need," the dragon repeated, still brokering the deal for a human who had managed to get at least half of his composure back. Now his pale skin only looked like a heated flush, instead of the absolute red this discussion had led to.

"That's a long time," the guardian noted first, his concern as ever for his human counterpart, "A long time, to be surrounded by a herd of magical thousand pound beasts with horns designed for gouging fleshy things to death."

The human lost a little bit more of the emotion-betraying color in his features.

Thanks for that.

Anytime.

The human coughed into his elbow, clearing his throat of what little remained of his pride to speak on the matter that concerned him more than his personal safety.

"Twenty," he coughed again, "Minutes means a lot of hairs. A lot of hairs means a lot of luck … so … so I … uh …"

How to say this politely...

The dragon's eyes narrowed in on the person beside him, and guessed at his purpose without needing to ask.

"What are you going to do, with all the rest of those hairs," the dragon finished for him. The human gulped, and the pair shared silent glances with each other.

The meaning was inferred, but Josiah said it to his other half anyway.

Thanks…

The dragon snorted it off.

"That'd be a lot of magical luck for one person to have," the dragon clarified, nodding off to the side and shrugging like he hadn't just questioned her (good? bad?) intentions.

[Hermia]

"First things first," Hermia looked from dragon to human and back. "You won't be in danger. Unicorns don't approach virgins with good hearts at gouging speed. The closest they'll get to you is a fast trot... and then, well... this is the tricky part..."

Maybe she shouldn't have brought it up at all. It was too early to gauge good-hearted, but the human certainly was very nervous.

She let out a slow, calculating breath, and decided to be blunt. "And then they hem you in. Like... not like that crowd of farmers earlier. Definitely not. They just... crowd around, trying to nudge you. Think of... a crowd of extremely polite, well-mannered people from the upper rungs of society, all trying to shake your hand. Because you're a virgin, and they like that."

"Male virgins attract most of the male unicorns, and a few females," she continued. A glance at both other faces at the table told her that wasn't the right thing to say, for some reason she couldn't guess at. So she went on faster. "But if you feel uncomfortable with the way they're all trying to touch you at once, just say no."

She faced the dragon, literally and metaphorically, and tried to think happy thoughts about how awful she'd taste in steak sauce. And for that matter, how incredibly stringy all fox-faeries tended to be, no matter how thoroughly char-broiled. "You're - his guardian spirit. You'll be like his... the word's "chaperone", I think. If he's too nervous to say no, you'll have to say no for him. Loudly. As long as you don't attack them first, they won't hit back either. They won't be as stringent with their usual policy of chasing outsiders away. Because." She fiddled with a strand of her hair. "He's a virgin. They want to be on their best behavior."

"Once that's all over, we'll share what I collected. Harvesting all those tail hairs - that's the real hazardous job. I might get my jaw broken if they kick me. So we'll share them equally - I keep half of what I collected, and you get the other half. Then you could... sell them, I guess. You'll fetch a nice fortune for them. Or have a potion maker or wand crafter or seamstress make them into something useful."

[Josiah Gray]

"First things first," Hermia looked from dragon to human and back. "You won't be in danger. Unicorns don't approach virgins with good hearts at gouging speed. The closest they'll get to you is a fast trot…"

That doesn't sound so bad…

"And then, well... this is the tricky part..."

Spoke too soon? the dragon sounded far too pleased to say.

Stop that, the human mage whined.

"And then they hem you in."

The young man's face panned to ghost-sighting levels.

"Like… not like that crowd of farmers earlier. Definitely not. They just... crowd around, trying to nudge you."

That still didn't help.

"Think of... a crowd of extremely polite, well-mannered people from the upper rungs of society, all trying to shake your hand. Because you're a virgin, and they like that. Male virgins attract most of the male unicorns, and a few females, but if you feel uncomfortable with the way they're all trying to touch you at once, just say no."

He could have sworn he heard his brother snickering, wherever he was - or maybe that was the dragon.

"You're - his guardian spirit. You'll be like his... the word's "chaperone", I think. If he's too nervous to say no, you'll have to say no for him. Loudly. As long as you don't attack them first, they won't hit back either. They won't be as stringent with their usual policy of chasing outsiders away. Because. He's a virgin. They want to be on their best behavior."

"Once that's all over, we'll share what I collected. Harvesting all those tail hairs - that's the real hazardous job. I might get my jaw broken if they kick me. So we'll share them equally - I keep half of what I collected, and you get the other half. Then you could... sell them, I guess. You'll fetch a nice fortune for them. Or have a potion maker or wand crafter or seamstress make them into something useful."

"Alright. Little danger for him," the spokesman started out, acknowledging the facts on both their parts for the mage so very red and quietly trying to pretend they weren't really talking about unicorns or virginity or anything o this nature. "Still, while you talk an awful lot, that hasn't answered our question."

"What do you plan to do, with all the hairs you get?" the dragon repeated, suspicious eyes narrowing as he leaned in his head for a moment. "A small fortune, potions, wands - what's your purpose here?"

"It's - it's not l-like we don't trust you," Josiah cut in softly to defuse what he feared could be a quickly mounting hostility. The dragon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, predatory and piercing and telling him to be quiet - the adults were talking.

"No," the dragon agreed in a leading manner. "It's just that I don't trust you."

Josiah hid his face in his hands again and wished the world would go away.

Lord turned to the mage, inquiring aloud for both to hear, "What's that saying? 'Once enchanted, twice Fey shy'?"

You made that up.

Doesn't mean it's not a real saying.

[Hermia]

"Well," Hermia bristled, "It's perfectly reasonable that nobody trusts a complete stranger who wants to help these days. There's no such thing as a free lunch. I've demonstrated as much, but you ought to know a little more about -" the remainder of the guardian spirit's words finished processing in her mind. "Oh." She leaned back, avoiding his gaze. "Of course. You've... got plenty of reason to be both suspicious and short-tempered about it..."

Her eyes rested on the human mage, whose hands were no doubt hiding a crimson blush. "What'd the last one do, lure you out into a crowded public square and frisk you naked?" She harrumphed. "Not my place to ask. Never mind. My... condolences..." A stray thought leapt into her mind, the only halfway-related compliment her compromised faculties could sputter out, and she grabbed at it without a closer look, hoping for any way at all to ease the tension.

"For what it's worth, you'd probably look alright naked anyway moving on let's just forget I said that." She shrank away from the bloody, murderous intent shining in the dragon's eyes.

"What were we - what am I doing with the hairs, you said?" Between the glaring dragon and the blushing human who still wouldn't look at her, she decided the human was safer to look at. "Well... admittedly, I hadn't really thought about that."

"I've never even had that potential amount in my possession before." Honesty. They wanted honesty. "I'm a Material mage. I'll think of something for them. I could use them to stabilize experiments with other reagents - I've got plenty of hellhound parts to handle, as it happens. Or weave them into a runed medallion for protection from spirits, or brew luck tonics, or make healing wands."

"The possibilities are limitless." She picked up her mug, swirled the last of its contents and drank them down. "I don't know what I'll do with them yet, but I'll think of something. Something completely benign," she hastened to add. "Most, if not all dark forces don't use unicorn tail hairs for currency if there wasn't bloodshed involved."

[Josiah Gray]

Josiah's face never really had much color to it. His skin was pale at best, and outright white at its worse, which of course meant it showed discoloration rather easily - even a simple scratch could leave a pronounced pinkish line on his skin. The guardian spirit had been around him long enough to see a number of colors on his face …

But he had never seen the kind of crimson shade on his face when the fey talked about … nakedness.

Josiah?, the dragon knocked on the metaphorical door between their minds, with no answer from the practically motionless young man.

Earth to Josiah. This is your dragon speaking. … Hello?

Can't think, the curt reply came back eventually.

What?

Can't think. Brain. Compute. Not. It. ... Ack.

The dragon mentally checked his vitals.

He was blinking. That was a good sign at least. Looping one arm around the mage's shoulders, the draconic guardian spirit became the primary listening party at that point.

"Benign. Benevolent," he stated factually. "That isn't so bad."

Healing gloves, his counterpart cut in unexpectedly, gulping when the dragon turned to note him. Healing gloves. I've been meaning to make some. That's, um, the hairs would help.

The spirit grunted once to say that he understood.

"Most, if not all light forces don't send invisible snakes after little kids," the spirit said offhandedly. "But I think we can let that pass this time, seeing as you were … sort of provoked. Regardless, this still stands to be a mutually beneficial venture. You get the hairs, I protect him, he stands around and looks pretty."

Josiah's head summarily knocked itself against the table twice.