Paying the Piper

Nineteen: Shapeshifter's Cloak +1

Quentin's eyes were watering from the smoke, and his nose was beginning to simultaneously be both clogged and runny. He wasn't sure why that was even possible, but his nose convinced him it was, and would be for the foreseeable future. If not for Rhia and Faye and their needing to talk, he wouldn't have even come to the bonfire tonight.

"She was just here," Rhia was saying. "Maybe she went back to be with Hannah. Hannah headed home to grab her phone."

Rhia and Hannah were such stark opposites it was hard to believe they were sisters sometimes. But then, he figured people thought the same of him and Ryland, even though they had the same father.

Speaking of fathers...

"Did I tell you how weird Henry is being? Acting all interested in our lives suddenly. AND he doesn't seem to have any plans to leave again any time soon."

Rhia shot him a sympathetic look. "That really is not like him. Maybe he has a new girlfriend in town?"

Quentin rubbed under his eyes, which were—just great—beginning to itch from the smoke now too. "I don't think so. He's not made it seem like it, anyway." He made a face. "Just my luck, he's decided to start exhibiting some fatherly tendencies at the most inconvenient time."

"Maybe," Rhia began cautiously, and he already knew where she was going. She was always trying to be optimistic about his dad, that maybe Quentin ought to give him a chance and so forth. 

"It's for the best?" he finished with her. He shook his head, pushing his glasses up. "Can we just agree to disagree about that?"

"If you want." 

He hated the disappointment in her voice, but he was also irritated that she continue to bring up this line of thought despite his adamant remarks against it. His father had had enough chances all his life to act like a father. Quentin wasn't going to waste anymore of his own life providing more chances.

Someone cranked up the music playing on the Bluetooth speaker, and it was impossible to speak at a normal volume anymore. Now, along with his runny nose and eyes, he was going to be dealing with a headache. He shouted to Rhia that he was going to grab a drink, and he drifted away without knowing if she had truly heard him.

Once he had snagged a Pepsi, he rubbed the cold can against his head a moment before opening it. Then, after a glance back at Rhia, where Hannah had joined her (but no Faye), Quentin weaved among bodies to reach the edge of the crowd. He kept moving until he was in the cool darkness, the music a tolerable throb instead of agony.

As he stared at the sea of teenagers, he felt the ache in his legs from being on them so long. So many healthy bodies before him, unaware of their blessings. And he had reason to feel blessed as well—he knew that. His case of cerebral palsy was the best the doctors around here had ever seen. He didn't need a wheelchair, he could eat without a feeding tube, his cognitive skills were on par with kids his age, he didn't have seizures. Really, he had so many reasons to feel fortunate.

But at moments like this, watching his peers goof off and socialize and generally not have to deal with any potential health defects, well, it made him itch to use his Shapeshifter's Cloak +1 (as he coined it).

He had found it back when he was just a child. Skirting the edges of the local playground, he had stumbled upon a pile of strange garments. They were furry and red. When he held one up, it looked like an animal had shed its skin, just taking it off and walking away from it, which would make sense if it were a snake skin, but these were clearly mammalian.

So Quentin had flung one over his shoulders, drawing the muzzle and eye holes over his own face. He didn't immediately realize what was happening until the feeling of strength and energy overtook him. Then he glanced at his body, and realized he was peering down at a fox. And the fox was him.

Exhilarated by the power and health of the new skin, Quentin dashed away on all fours. He felt a freedom he had never experienced before, and it was addicting. 

He had meant to return the skin to where he had found it. But as he traversed the forest on paths he had never taken and couldn't have taken without the fox pelt, he knew he could never give it up.

This garment, which was wholly otherworldly—and he understood that, even at age six—made him feel normal in a way he had never felt before.

But he also knew it would have to be his own secret. No one else could know, not even Rhia when they became friends. Not even Ryland, when he joined the family, fresh from Korea. Not even Marietta or the other nannies. This piece of perfection was his and his alone.

Maybe if he had shared it with the others, they would better understand his willingness to accept the uncanny. Perhaps they'd scoff less at some of his observations or remarks. For Quentin had already experienced a bit of the supernatural and had no problem accepting that even greater unknowns were out there he had not uncovered yet.

The bonfire crowd was full of teens paying him no mind. He could pull out his second skin, slip it on, and spend a bit of time in the bliss of being physically whole. He had brought it. He made sure to always bring it places.

But regretfully, Quentin admitted to himself that he was supposed to be finding Faye so that they could finally discuss her curse at length.

He was wandering back towards Rhia and Hannah when a junior girl pushed past him. She didn't seem to see where she was going, but whereas her ricocheting off him did little to disrupt her own footing, he struggled to keep his balance.

"Ellie, wait!" another girl called after her. "Come back!"

Ellie had disappeared into the night, and her friend didn't chase after her. He heard her mutter, "I can't believe Ryland."

That made him suddenly intrigued. He began scanning the crowd for his brother, but he couldn't see Ryland's face in the sea of shadowed teenagers. He did spot Jason, one of Ryland's best friends, however. He tapped Jason on the shoulder and asked him if he had seen Ryland. It took three tried before Jason heard him over the music.

"Ryland's probably making out with his dance date." Jason snickered. "Plenty of shadows to choose from."

Quentin refrained from commenting, vaguely surprised that Ryland had said yes. Rhia had filled him in on Hannah's plan to ask Ryland to the dance. Both of them suspected it would not end well for her.

But hey, maybe there was a bit of helpful magic at the bonfires tonight besides his shapeshifter's cloak +1. 

Stranger things had happened.

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Author's note: Sorry that Quentin has been so quiet. He's been refusing to cooperate with me.

Image credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/fire-bonfire-gathering-people-939052/