“The last documented beastspeaker lived in the late eighteenth century in India. It has been theorized that there are still beastspeakers that go undocumented today, and that they may be much more prevalent among the native American and African tribes, and in areas of the world where human contact is less pervasive. It has also been theorized that culture more hostile to witchcraft likely decimated the population of beastspeakers over the centuries.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

As the long hours of daylight rolled into evening, the light outside the broad windows of the MASO faded slowly into a gray sunset. Once again, the clouds threatened snow. So did the news.

Silver ran a hand across her sweat-slicked forehead, wiping her hair away from her face. Their meeting with the director had been brief. Unsurprisingly, he paid little attention to her. There were no questions asked about what Bek had told her, or what she might not understand. He simply looked at Dr. Smarthawk, who Bek had somehow known to bring along to the meeting, and informed the three of them that Silver would now be working in the lab in the evenings.

Both she and the doctor were happy enough with that decision, at least as far as Silver could tell. He had given her a tour of the lab facilities, which were impressive, finishing at a glass wall twice her height that looked out over a cylindrical room spanning at least two floors. Peering upward, she could see the sky through the ceiling. The floor was an opalescent white that reflected the light in a rainbow of pinks, blues, greens, and yellows. The eggs were at the center of it.

Although she had not yet begun her tasks, Silver had been introduced to them then. Over the course of her four-hour shift, she was to turn the eggs once every hour. There were bins of dirty equipment to be cleaned, and an autoclave with a set of faded instructions and a few lines written in with blue ink. It would run overnight. Other than that, she was told, she would be given a set of miscellaneous tasks, from vacuuming to distributing pipette boxes. The doctor seemed to think it was amusing when she asked why they did not use magic for most of those tasks.

Since everyone seemed to have better things to do than escort her around, she was given a break for a nap. Silver took the time to head down to the library once more, and for the first time, went online to look up Kerie and Skye. They were online. She did not tell them where she was, exactly, or why, but she teared up over half of what they said, barely avoided bawling despite the looks she got from other library-goers, and alternately nearly died laughing at some of the memes they sent her. Both invited her to live with them, whether their parents knew it or not. Both expressed anger and concern that she had not contacted them sooner. She was reminded, forcibly, that she had not lost everything. Good friends were a thing she had never been more thankful for, even if they were miles and miles away.

But somehow, she felt lonelier after talking to them than she had before. Everything around her had changed, and as a result, she could sometimes almost forget the agony that kept her up at night. Kerie and Skye were a glimpse of her old life, and it brought everything to the surface.

Again.

And Ryan had not canceled her training that morning. Instead, he had moved it and determined to try something new. That something new proved to be boiling water with her magic. Three hours later, Silver had not managed to boil the shallow bowl of water he had given her. The temperature did not change by even one degree over the course of their class. That boded ill for her abilities, as far as Silver was concerned. But she had no complaints about the change in their routine. There was a large part of her that wanted to prove she could do what Ryan seemed to expect - she could use magic. She had done it once, and in short, uncontrollable bursts thereafter. She had only to figure out how to do it again, and with more control. It did not matter what sort of training he had to put her through for that to happen; she would do it gladly.

Per Ryan’s suggestion, she ditched the elevator for the stairs, and was halfway to her room when Bek stopped her in the hall.

“Two things,” he stated, apparently not noticing that she was literally dripping sweat on the pristine MASO carpets, “One, I was asked to teach you a bit about the mythical beasts by Dr. Smarthawk. Two, Cynthia had some suggestions for your magic training even though she won’t be available for a few more days. We can discuss it over dinner.” He gestured her back towards the elevator, and glanced in her direction when Silver did not move.

“After I shower?” She half-questioned. He shook his head slightly, and she felt a rush of warm air that left her abruptly dry. Not clean, by a longshot – the feeling of dried sweat on her skin was tacky and disgusting – but at least dry.

“Still don’t have this one down…well, what Cynthia has to say might help. Now can we go?” he asked.

Silver raised an eyebrow at his tone, but followed after him when her stomach rumbled consent.

“So,” Silver said amicably as they selected their dishes, “What was that advice?”

“What do you think about right now when you’re trying to complete the exercises Ryan gives you?” Bek asked lightly, selecting a grilled chicken salad that Ryan would have approved of. Silver followed suit, eyeing the dry white meat dubiously.

“I’m focusing on doing what he asks.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Silver eyed Bek as he continued. “Think about it. Every time you’ve used magic so far, you haven’t been focusing on the magic. I told you before, it’s like breathing. If you think too hard about it, you forget how it works. Cynthia suggested Ryan have you meditate tomorrow instead of focusing on using your magic.”

“What did she suggest I meditate on?” Silver asked, setting her food at one of the smaller tables. Bek joined her. The cafeteria was nearly empty past eight.

“Well, if you actually meditate, nothing. But in your case, I think picking something that will evoke a strong emotion is best. Magic feeds on emotions, Silver.”

“Well, what did you think about when you were first learning to use magic? How did you control it without focusing on it?”

This question, she immediately realized, was the wrong one. For a second, a shadow passed across Bek’s expression, but it was brief. He met her gaze to say, “Ryan will tell you to think of something that makes you incredibly happy. Then he’ll ask you to think of yourself like the face of a lake, smooth, calm. When you are calm, he’ll ask you to reach for your power…for most people who struggle like you, that eventually works. It’s like taking a walk inside yourself and finding your magic there, a gentler acquaintance than what we’ve been aiming for so far. There’s no good way to explain it other than that. If you can’t instinctively use your power, you have to teach yourself the path to finding it.”

“But you disagree with Ryan.”

Bek made a strange face, half contradiction and half something else she could not place.

“No. I don’t. Technically, it’s a more advanced technique, something you would try when refining your control rather than trying to discover your power for the first time. That doesn’t mean it won’t be successful for you. But it has its risks.”

“And those are?”

“Hard to say,” Bek admitted unhappily, “but I would still try it if I were you. It seems like you’ve been really putting your all into the physical side of Ryan’s training, and this is your next step if you want to be able to use your magic. Really, it’s the only path you have open to you at this point.”

“Well, I could just not learn to use magic,” Silver pointed out. Bek looked at her like she had gone insane.

“You were the one who told me you were worried that people could just walk around lighting things on fire with their minds. Guess what Silver – you can do that. Do you really think that’s something you can just ignore? You think it won’t hurt someone at some point if you don’t learn how to control it?”

Silver blinked at him, surprised. He was right, of course. After eighteen years of never even knowing magic existed, it was hard for her to believe she would suddenly be a danger to anyone, but that did not change what she could do. When she had believed without a doubt that she would be able to control her power, it had never occurred to her to be afraid. She could feel Bek watching her as her expressions changed, and busied herself with her food. He seemed to get the point. Something thumped heavily on the table, and she glanced up at it.

A book.

Not just any book, but the leather-bound, latched volume he had retrieved from the library the same evening he showed her the Book of Lineage. Given a second opportunity to appraise the book, she realized it had to be old - patches of the book’s wooden frame showed through deep scratches in the hide, and peeked through the corners where the hide had frayed thin. When her eyes darted questioningly to the spine, she glimpsed a telltale line of small, dark letters, nearly the same color as the hide. As Silver continued to stare, the letters seemed to become slowly more and more distinct, until she could have read them if they had been written in a language she understood.

“Can you see it?” he asked.

“The letters?”

Bek nodded slowly, as if he had been trying to confirm something. Wordlessly, he flipped open the book and ran his finger down a page in the front. She let her eyes wander away from the words, which she still could not understand, and focused on the paper instead – somehow it looked new. Brand new. And it was illuminated with a crimson dragon, wings extended across the page to brush the tip of its coiled tail. It was rendered in such exquisite detail that she imagined its scales would be slick and warm to the touch. Fire curled from its gaping jaws with the illusion of movement so that it looked real – real enough to burn, real enough to leap off the page at any moment. She could feel the heat of it against her skin even from across the table.

“You were curious about the mythical beasts,” Bek said, flipping away from what she decided must be a table of contents. Silver felt her eyes widen slightly as he pointed at a new page, and a new illumination of a bronze dragon – this time, it was a massive beast that took up the entire embellished frame of one page. The beast’s sinewy body was curled so that all four of its legs were splayed wide to grasp at the invisible earth beneath its bird-like paws. Two wings spread regally from its back, the membranes thin enough that she imagined she could see the veins running through them, the talons sharp enough that she thought if she reached out and touched them, they might draw blood.

Then the dragon turned sharply to look at her, tail curling as it let loose a thick spurt of flame. She gasped, pulling back abruptly, and Bek chuckled.

“I forget you haven’t seen any spelled books yet.”

It was obvious to them both that he was lying about having forgotten, but she ignored him because the bronze dragon had been replaced by a blue one that was subtly different in many ways. Seconds ticked past. A creature hardly larger than a lizard was staring at her from the page now. It vanished as she watched, and a dragon that looked like it was made of stone appeared, red eyes gleaming from the junction of its hooked jaws. She continued to stare, afraid that the parade of dragons would cease if she blinked, afraid that the next one would not stare at her the way the previous one had…

As if it were alive.

Bek turned the page. So many words. He stared at them for a long moment, apparently translating the strange text, since he occasionally called out some detail here or there.

“This section is about dragons. All kinds of dragons, as you might have guessed from the pictures.”

Silver nodded appreciatively.

“In general, the mythical beasts are creatures you would never know you met. Some are schemers. They learn to speak with humans, they travel into our cities, wander our streets, get rid of the people who learn what they really are. Others prefer to keep to themselves. There are places where no human has ever stepped foot, and there, the mythical beasts are king. We may rule over our cities, and we may believe that we have the world firmly in our grasp, but if you’ve ever really looked…” he trailed off, seeming lost in thought as he stared at the open page before him. “Centuries ago, humans knew which of the mythical beasts to hunt and which to fear. And of course, there were supposedly ghosts, demons, spirits…at that time, the dragons were considered the kings of beast-kind. But let’s look at some of the creatures you might find nearby nowadays.”

He laughed more openly at her next look.

“Yes, they don’t just live thousands of miles away from us in the most remote reaches of the world. Like these,” he stopped at a page with lizard-like creatures that he claimed were the size of small dogs. They danced beneath his fingers, wrestling over what looked like a chunk of bone.

“Kendrakes,” Bek said. “Not too bad if you catch them alone. Territorial though. Most of their magic is used for perception. They can sense someone crossing into their territory from a mile away. Or tree wolves,” he said, flipping to another page. The beast he showed her looked much more like a mountain lion than a wolf, with ears like a rabbit and fur the color of lavender. “They live in the trees, as the name implies. Overall, a peaceful species. They ignore us if we ignore them.”

“What’s their magic?”

“Mostly illusions. Some say they have power over the trees themselves as well.”

“Can I try?” she asked, reaching for the book. He moved his hand away, letting her flip the pages until she stopped at one painted with a flock of sandy, blue-bellied birds. “What are these?”

“Sand hoppers,” he said, “I’ve seen these. You want to avoid them, at all costs. They’re like the piranhas of the sky. Pick the flesh from your bones in seconds.”

“What’s their magic, though?”

“You want them to have magic, too?” he asked incredulously, “I just told you they eat people.” She frowned at him. “They’re song is a powerful sedative. Like sirens.”

“Sirens are real?” Silver asked, staring at him in horror.

“Of course they are, or were. Mostly extinct now.”

“Glad I asked. How about this one,” she flipped to a page with a creature that looked suspiciously like a newt. Bek rotated the book a bit to stare for a minute at the title.

“Interesting name here. This is a joint-eater, Alp-luachra. Nasty little creatures, they’re pretty much parasitic. One of the only beasts I know of that can live in the human stomach.”

“Okay, maybe that’s enough mythical beasts,” Silver observed, though she flicked a few more pages aside. She stopped halfway to flipping again. She knew this creature. It was little more than a shadow on the page, a black splotch of spilt ink with crimson eyes and a smoky haze that trailed behind it. Bek must have seen it at the same time she did, since he placed his hand on the book and tried to pull it away.

“Maybe that’s enough, Silver.”

“No. Wait,” she held onto the heavy frame of the book, eyes drinking in the moving image, “what is it? Tell me.” Time and again, it changed, the smoke undulating, billowing, transforming the creature from one form to another. Crimson eyes, a sleek, ebony mass of a body, curving black talons and a sweeping tail…dark spines like the jagged teeth of a worn saw…the image seemed to spread within her mind. Black on black, smoke or oil or simply shadow, she did not know what darkness had obscured the true shape of the beast – but she did know that she had seen it moving, writhing and serpentine, a ghostly haze that had marched through her life and left it in ruins.

Her eyes raked the unintelligible words on the page, leaping from one to another, until suddenly she realized that she understood.

Zaranal Sorea.

Shadow.

A beast neither living nor dead. A demon that could possess the corpses of the dead, and instilled a baseless terror in anyone who witnessed it.

“They’re called Zara, Silver,” Bek said, finally tugging the book from her fingers when she proved too shocked by her ability to comprehend what she had read to hold on to it. “Demons that are not born, but created. Magic does both great and terrible things, and the Zara are beasts whose very souls have been eaten away by the magic of this world. Some say they rise even after death…ghosts that wander endlessly. Some people believe there were a lot of them, once upon a time, but no more.” That drew her eyes to him, but he pretended not to notice. He had tipped the book away to flip to a page near the end. “Like I said, they are like ghosts, but worse. Evil spirits. Demons. Killing one is nearly impossible. They’re simply too strong.”

“But it isn’t impossible.”

Bek fixed her with a hard stare. “With magic, nothing is impossible, but that doesn’t bring you back to life when you fail. Last one,” he turned the book towards her, and Silver stared without really seeing at a picture of something that looked like a bat, but larger by far. It had leathery wings stretched wide to the white paper, and two clawed thumbs that gave them the appearance of great, webbed hands. Its globular eyes followed her when she leaned back with a sigh.

“Wings of the Night, or simply nightwings. It says here that in 1524, Herndite and Firhelder, two notable MASO ecologists of the era, reported the presence of several different clans that sometimes bickered over territory or prey. Other than that, they are considered peaceful. The International Directory of Beasts originally listed three known species based on geographic locality, but that number has been expanded to four since colonies in Denmark and the northern Netherlands were verified in 1557. Nightwings from the east are darker in color than those from the west, which are often a dusty brown. Nightwings from the north have a generally white coat, while those from the south are primarily found in variations of gray and silver.”

“So? Do we have giant bats here?” Silver asked.

“In fact, we do,” Bek observed coolly, “the western colony roosts in the Cascades and in parts of the Rockies. But you heard what I said about Denmark and the Netherlands? Recently, a distinctly different population of nightwings has been sighted here – they don’t mingle well with our native population because they are pure white. Suddenly, it’s like we have polar bears mixed in with a bunch of grizzlies. On top of that, the tree kendrakes,” he flicked back to the earlier page to refresh her memory, “usually avoid people at all costs. Fourteen hikers have sighted them in the past month, one after they broke into a bear trap at a remote campsite, and he uploaded photos. Hushing the internet uproar took days.”

“I don’t think anyone would’ve believed they were real, anyway,” Silver interjected.

“Maybe so,” Bek seemed unconvinced. “But this past six months, the MASO has been looking into strange activity among all of the mythical beasts, searching for some explanation…something like the presence of the Zara…the shadow beast you saw.”

Silver narrowed her eyes at him, since there was nothing for her to say in response. Bek closed the book, setting it between them.

“I showed you this because Lijen asked me to, but also because I have a question for you, Silver. I have your statement from the night of the fire.” It must have shown in her expression how little she wanted to think about that night, because he sighed and looked away from her. “Do you remember everything you said?”

“It was a blur,” Silver admitted truthfully, “I don’t remember much.”

“You said the fire started when a demon appeared outside the window.” Silver said nothing. She simply stared at him. Anger, or the loss she had felt when she spoke to Kerie and Skye earlier in the day, she would have understood, but in that moment, she felt neither. Just tired. Too weary to do more than wait for him to say more. “The windows melted, and it entered the house, passing you by. But it never saw you?”

“It saw me,” Silver disagreed, “before the fire. Why didn’t it kill me first? I don’t know. Maybe it knew I had magic.”

“You would have been no match for a Zara. If your demon was one of them, it would have known that.” Silver let her head drop to one side for a moment as she realized what she had not said to anyone that night.

“Before the fire, there was frost. On the glass of the window, the ice formed a symbol. It was the one from the window at the library. Even though it was just for a second, I recognized it.”

“The library…” Bek repeated, the light of recognition appearing in his expression. To her surprise, he moved the book and tipped the edge of his water glass over, spilling liquid across the table. After a second, however, she realized what he was doing. The water drew together rapidly, forming precisely the symbol she had seen that night. That memory, most likely, would never leave her as long as she lived. “This?”

“That,” Silver agreed.

“That makes no sense.”

“Thanks. I agree.” At least he did not ask her if she was sure. Mysteriously, the water leapt back into his glass, but Bek seemed not to notice. He had leaned away from her again, deep in thought. “What does it mean?” she asked.

Bek’s expression gave nothing of his thoughts away when he said, “I don’t know. I don’t…but after,” he tapped a finger on the table, “after you said there was a wolf. You thought a wolf dragged you away from the fire.”

“Like I said, it was a blur. I was probably delusional by that point,” Silver noted. Clearly, Bek was unconvinced.

“You remember it clearly, don’t you?”

“I will never be able to forget,” she stated. Silver felt the truth of her words deep in her soul. How could it hurt so much? And yet she sat there and stared at him as if it did not, wondering what more she should say. A creeping dread was growing in her now.

Magic was terrifying. Wolves and demons and a vast, unknown world full of equally threatening things. There was a part of her that never wanted to step foot outside the MASO again. A part of her that wanted somewhere safe to hide, and knew there was nowhere left. It was strange, she felt, that the helplessness, the loss, made her want to threaten the very forces that worked against her, just as she had with the Zara.

Overhead, the lights flickered. Bek stared at them idly before saying, “This is the last time we’ll talk about it.” Again, Silver had no response, even when he stood up and stared down at her for a moment before stacking her dishes with his and taking them away. When he returned, it was only to pick up his book, but he did hesitate. She never looked at him. Just felt his eyes on the top of her head.

Then he left.