By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(25)

“Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“You know what? Screw you, Twig!” He sprang up and stomped off. I rose to go after him. Whirling, he ran back and shoved me. I didn’t budge, but he flew backwards from the impact and hit the ground. Hard.

I offered him my hand, but he slapped it away. Pushing to his feet, he brushed himself off, glaring at me the whole time. My dragon rumbled in my chest. I wanted to comfort the poor guy. Which was a little weird and even more uncomfortable. I didn’t exactly grow up in an environment where soft emotions were entertained. Show weakness to a clan member and next thing you know, you’re on that night’s menu.

But Quinn wasn’t a dragon. Did that mean he’d want me to comfort him? I searched for something that would make him feel better. I settled for, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Why should you care?” His voice was just a smidge short of screaming, spittle flying from his lips. “You got an indentured servant out of the deal. It must be so great for you.”

Evidently, I said the wrong thing. What did dragons—or fairies for that matter—know about human emotions? But I did know a thing or two about being unfairly accused.

“I didn’t ask for you, if you’ll recall. Brandsome offered you up. In fact, he manipulated me into it.” I crossed my arms over my chest, smoke swirling from my nose. Then it hit me. “Wait, I assumed you were indentured because . . . well, I don’t know why actually.”

Okay, so I kind of assumed he was a thief or messed with the wrong magical creature. He sure put off enough attitude for it.

Good thing he couldn’t cast spells or I’d be a pile of ash in the grass. Quinn’s fists clenched and unclenched in a rhythmic motion.

“Training to be a wizard is expensive. Befsarry Academy of Magic paid for my room, board, materials. Everything I needed. All expenses paid because as you said, there hasn’t been a wizard in a thousand years. But when it turned out I wasn’t a wizard after all, all those expenses became due effective immediately. My family didn’t have the coin, and honestly, even if they did, they wouldn’t have paid it. My failure mortified them.”

“So the school sold you into servitude to recoup the gold,” I said.

He nodded tersely.

Wow.

“To Brandsome?”

Another nod.

“Three years ago, right?”

“I was twenty-one, the age of majority for witches and wizards.”

“But how did they not know before? I mean, you were identified, right? So you must have magic potential.”

Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “All humans have magic potential, Twig—”

“No, they don’t. That’s why there’s only been witches for the last thousand years.” I’d learned that from one of the tutors my father insisted on hiring when I’d first arrived in the Elder.

Quinn sighed. “You’re half right. Humans aren’t like fairies and other magical creatures. We don’t have access to our magic from day one. We can’t even harness it until we’ve hit the age of majority and bonded with a familiar. But we all do have at least a little magic—even males. When they evaluated me, I tested with a high probability of magic. It’s not an exact skill though. It’s an educated guess.”

“So, you’re saying they guessed wrong?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“But you’ve been training since you were a kid. How could they not know?”

“Because we practice the steps needed to do the spells, but until we bond with our familiar we can’t actually do the spells.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Almost as much as my life.”

“I-I really am sorry.”

Quinn shrugged.

“I can’t shift,” I blurted out.

“What?” He narrowed his eyes. “But I saw your claws.”

Why had I said that? I scrubbed a hand over my face.

“I can’t fully shift. It’s the reason I was expelled from my clan. You aren’t the only one whose family didn’t want them anymore. And you saw my wings. I can’t fly, I can’t shift. So I know what it feels like to be a failure. Too big for a fairy, too puny for a dragon. That’s my dragon name by the way. Twig the Puny. Great name, huh?” Shut up, shut up, shut up an inner voice shouted, but I ignored it. Obviously. “Twig the Puny Starfig.”

Quinn just stared before he burst into laughter. He laughed until he bent in half and could barely draw breath. I flinched. This was why I never shared my story. This exact reaction.

“I-I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” Another round of laughter ensued.

“Could have fooled me,” I muttered.

“Aren’t we a pair?” he gasped between chortles. “A half-dragon-half-fairy who can’t shift or fly, and a wizard who’s really no wizard at all.”

I approached and patted him on the back. Poor guy was losing it. I waited for him to wind down.

Quinn wiped at his eyes, hiccupped loudly.

“Guess I needed that.” He leaned into me, his hand resting on my chest. “Thank you.”

“For what?” My heart thumped against my ribcage. Our eyes locked and I reined in the urge to taste his mouth.