Lucky Rabbit

Pandy barely managed to suppress a squeak as the something moved again. Then a different part of the woman’s skirt shifted, indicating that there were at least two somethings under there. Which would be completely normal if the things were human legs, but they most definitely were not.

Lady Mossley shifted, slumping forward so her forehead rested on the table. This placed her in the perfect position to look down on Pandy, which she did. Opening one eye, she then closed it again in what might have been a wink, or might have been a twitch as she entered unconsciousness.

“Just hold still,” Alvena Mossley murmured, sounding almost coherent for the first time since Pandy met her. She shifted very slightly, and her skirt slid up as one bare foot protruded from beneath her skirt. Other than the fact that it was bare, it was a normal foot, pale and fine-boned, which implied the existence of legs after all, but a familiar chill wafted from the gap between skirt and floor. Something small shifted in the darkness, and Pandy squinted, trying to keep her own eyes mostly closed while also seeing into that narrow gap.

Someone grabbed her, hauling her body from beneath the table with hands that were far from gentle. They plopped her down onto some hard surface as a querulous voice said, “Why couldn’t the girl do this?”

Wulfric’s deep voice replied, “I can’t trust her. My own daughter, and she won’t do as she’s told. It’s only too bad your magic doesn’t work on other pheromone wielders.”

“I told you to have at least two children,” the querulous voice said. “Then you’d have a spare.”

Wulfric grunted, turning Pandy so he could unbutton the front of her shirt, spreading the fabric wide. She wanted to yell and clutch the garment closed, but she couldn’t. She was a boy right now, and she was supposed to be unconscious.

There were a few quiet gasps as Thaniel’s scars came into sight, but apparently they weren’t the result of sympathy, as a woman’s excited voice said, “Is that it?”

Someone prodded the pretend-heartstone in the center of Pandy’s breastbone. She would not flinch, and thanks to the fact that she – probably – didn’t need to breathe, she also managed to keep the rest and fall of her chest slow and steady.

“Who knows?” Wulfric asked, sounding more than a little annoyed.

“I will,” a younger, smoother voice responded, and Pandy heard shuffling as whoever was standing around her moved away. Cool, almost cold fingers touched her chest, lightly tracing the ridges of the scar tissue, then pressed firmly against the heartstone.

As far as Pandy knew, when she shifted shapes she became a perfect physical copy of the person whose form she’d taken. That meant skin was skin, hair was hair, and scars were scars. But what was the heartstone made of? It definitely wasn’t the same thing as the actual heartstone, because it didn’t react in any particular way when Augustus touched an essence stone to it. That is, it glowed Dark, but that was all it did. There were no mixed signals like the real Thaniel gave off. It certainly looked and felt like the original, but it was not, in fact, a magical stone that was definitely keeping someone alive, and might also contain a goddess, and-or be the focal point of a god-war.

In that moment, none of that mattered except that whoever was touching it believed that it was what it seemed to be. That, and the fact that Pandy could feel it as if it was part of her body, which it might well be. Thus, she felt it when the finger shifted from cool to cold to absolutely frigid, and the skin turned hard and slick, while something sharp prodded her chest.

Greatly daring – and hoping that everyone was too busy watching the performance to pay any attention to its unwilling subject – Pandy opened her eyes the tiniest sliver, keeping her face relaxed as she peered between her eyelashes. It was difficult to make out details, but she could tell there were at least four people crowded around her.

One was definitely Matilda’s father, who was larger than anyone else in the room, and one was probably the red-haired woman. The third was unfamiliar – a person with the same general physique as Wulfric, but with sloped shoulders and little to no hair. Matilda’s grandfather, perhaps? Somehow, Pandy had gotten the impression he was dead, but this man had a definite resemblance to Wulfric, even through Pandy’s narrow field of view.

The last person was the one who had their finger on Pandy’s chest, and he didn’t look like a human at all. In fact, his face was oddly sharp, not fuzzy and half-concealed by obstructing eyelashes, and it was the face of a monster… or rather, an elemental. The face was dark and expressionless, stretched holes filled with blackness replacing the features. It shifted in a very disturbing way, an eye drifting down through the cheek as the mouth skewed toward the opposite ear.

“This issss a desscccendant of Zheraphooonaaa. Deeeffinitely a Daaark mage,” this person said, the words a combination of the voice she’d just heard and a keening moan. “I sense a powerfuuuulll elemeeeental aaas weeell, but-”

He broke off, and Pandy wasn’t sure how she could tell, given the lack of actual eyeballs, but she thought he looked straight toward her face. It was all she could do not to slam her own eyes all the way closed, but she forced them to remain exactly as they were. It was a good thing Thaniel had such ridiculously thick eyelashes, because otherwise-

“He isss waking,” the face said, the black abyss of its mouth fading to reveal even white teeth and the unprepossessing features of Miller Oakden. The boy was watching Pandy closely, but when she remained still, barely remembering to breathe at all, he finally stepped back, lifting his hand and wiping his fingers with a handkerchief as if he’d just finished eating a particularly sticky jam sandwich.

Wulfric turned to the woman. “You said they’d remain unconscious for at least ten minutes!”

She sneered at him. “I said about ten minutes. He didn’t drink much, and I had to watch the dosage. It wouldn’t do to either overdose the others or fail to knock him out. That’s why I didn’t use the word ‘exactly’.”

Pandy watched, feeling a silent thrill now that it looked like they didn’t plan to gouge the stone from her chest, or even hurt her in any significant way. These weren’t friendly co-conspirators. In fact, it seemed like they didn’t particularly like or trust each other, and that had to be good for her side.

Turning away from the annoyed lady, Wulfric spoke to the older man. “Do it now,” he said, taking a long step away from Pandy’s supine form. Most of the others did the same, though Miller took the longest, his eyes never wavering from Pandy’s face.

The slump-shouldered man stepped closer as everyone else moved away, and he pulled something from his pocket. With great care, he tipped the thing over, allowing a thin stream of very fine powder to fall into his open palm. Faint, glittering particles rose around him, dancing in the clear light of the dining room like dust in a space that was rarely opened. Everyone except Miller took another step backwards, with Wulfric going so far as to turn his head away and cover his mouth and nose with a handkerchief.

Leaning forward, the old man blew the dust directly into Pandy’s face. She remained still, feeling it settle in and around her nose. She continued to move her chest up and down as if she was breathing, but didn’t actually take in any air, and so, hopefully, no dust. The man frowned, leaning even closer, like he was trying to peer up Pandy’s nose.

“What’s wrong?” Wulfric demanded. “Give the commands.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, boy,” the old man snapped, sounding exactly like a parent whose child had just overstepped. If this wasn’t Wulfric’s father, Pandy would… Well, she already might have to eat one hat, so this time she kept it easy. If this wasn’t Wulfric’s father, Pandy would have a nice cupcake, or at least some form of cakey reward for her hard – and somewhat frightening – work tonight. She was planning to do that anyway, and that way Geraldine would only be down one hat. Maybe. Probably.

Shaking his head, the maybe-dad snapped his fingers sharply in Pandy’s face. Was she supposed to react? Was this like one of those hypnotism tricks? Was she supposed to start speaking in Latin or barking like a dog?

“Three nights from tonight, at two in the morning precisely, you will write a note explaining that you’re going home. Leave the note in your room, then leave Falconet through the front door, alone and without mentioning your plans to anyone else. Take a single change of clothes and any money you have. Go down the drive to the gate, where someone will meet you. Go with them.”

The old man repeated these words three times, exactly the same each time. After each repetition, he blew another puff of powder into Pandy’s face. She continued moving her chest without actually breathing, but the dust had to be getting thick on her face by now. Surely he could tell she wasn’t sucking it in like she was supposed to?

After the third iteration and a final dusting, the man stepped back, nonchalantly clapping his hands together so the last few motes of dust rose into the air around him. Wulfric and the woman practically jumped back, the woman clamping her trailing sleeve over her face, while Wulfric shouted, “What are you doing?”

With a twisted smile, the older man said, “You could do with a little more obedience, pup. Don’t forget who brought you to these great heights.” He swept his hand around, indicating the ostentatious dining room and its finely-clad occupants. Pandy couldn’t see well enough to tell who all was upright, and who was collapsed in their seats, just as Matilda and Lady Mossley had been, but there were definitely others who were awake and watching.

Pandy could almost hear Wulfric’s teeth grinding before he said, “Thank you, then. Let’s finish this before they all begin to wake.” He began to do up Pandy’s shirt, for which she actually felt a tiny shred of gratitude.

With a snort of derision, the bent old man raised what looked like a straw to his mouth. Drawing in a breath, he blew through it very gently, turning as he did so, so that the powder flowing from the straw settled on everyone. Those people who were still awake had handkerchiefs or other items covering their noses and mouths, but Pandy could still hear their choked breathing as they struggled not to take deep breaths.

Raising his voice, the pheromone mage said, “When you wake, you will forget that you were ever asleep. You had the most wonderful evening of your life, and you think very fondly of your host. You look forward to coming back when he invites you again.”

Now Pandy really did feel like she was in one of those hypnosis podcasts, where the host convinced someone to stop smoking or overeating or act like an elephant trapped in a room with a bee. But people began shifting in their chairs, and one of the watchers still standing waved their hand, causing a breeze to swirl through the room, tweaking hair and clothes and gathering up all of the remaining powder.

Wulfric picked Pandy up and returned her to her seat as other people moved around the room, adjusting the sleepers. Chairs were set to rights, Matilda and Lamonia were returned to their places, and someone quickly wiped the raspberry sorbet from the face of the boy further down the table. Servants flowed in, clearing away the melted treat and the ‘poisoned’ drinks before replacing them with fresh. In less than two minutes, the room looked undisturbed, and Wulfric himself settled into his chair, laughing loudly.

The sound seemed to startle those who had been knocked out, and almost as one, they sat up sharply, looking around with groggy expressions. Some had spoons in their hands, and these people shakily dug into their sorbet, as a few of the people at the adults’ table joined in Wulfric’s laughter, speaking as easily as if their conversations had never been interrupted. Pandy followed suit, blinking open her eyes and taking the tiniest possible bite of sorbet. She didn’t trust anything in this house any longer.

Beside Pandy, Lady Mossley sat up abruptly. The only sign that she might actually have been awake the whole time was the low, gasping breath she took, as though she’d been holding her breath for a while. She pushed her glass against her plate as she did so, the resultant clink covering her intake of air.

On Lady Mossley’s other side, Matilda blinked and sat up, looking noticeably more confused than those around her. Staring at the others at the table, all of whom were in various stages of awareness, though no one acknowledged that fact, she opened her mouth, at which point her mother slid a spoonful of sorbet into it.

“There you are, my darling, isn’t that delicious? I helped pick the raspberries myself, and they made lovely hats.” Lady Mossley waggled her fingers at her daughter, though what the gesture had to do with hats, Pandy didn’t know. Without allowing Matilda to get a word in edgewise, Lady Alvena Mossley continued with a story of the time she and her best friend Grace attempted to chase down an Air elemental that had stolen their clothes while they were skinny-dipping in a lake.