All the Stars and Teeth(38)
Ferrick frowns deeply as he tilts his head back against the leather. But he doesn’t argue. He looks like he just wants to take a nap that’s long enough to sleep off his ale.
“It sounds like you’re all in for quite the adventure.” Shanty’s eyes slit like a cat who’s spotted its prey. “But first, let me tend to those faces of yours. We’ll have to get you past those guards if you’re to get back to your ship.”
She closes the space between us and my skin buzzes with the thrum of unfamiliar magic as she brushes a soft thumb over my cheeks and brows, turning my face every which way to scrutinize me. She does the same with Ferrick, whose neck retracts so far that he’s formed two chins, both of them equally appalled.
“My face,” he says between grimaces, “is mine.”
“Yes, love, and it will still be yours.” Her fingertips are hot against my skin. “The enchantment I can offer is only temporary, but it will give you plenty of time to get back to that ship of yours.”
The most I’ve ever experienced Ikae’s magic was when Yuriel made my fingernails different colors when we were children, and I’ve no memory of how long that lasted. Curiosity warms my nervous stomach.
“Does it hurt?”
Shanty’s quick to shake her head. “It’s only a glamour. You won’t feel a thing.”
“Then do whatever you need to.”
Ferrick grumbles as though I’ve cursed us to some miserable fate, but he’ll get over it.
When she presses her fingers against my temples this time, it’s like my skin is melting. I gasp, flinching away on instinct, but Shanty’s grip is tight and expectant.
The enchantment doesn’t hurt, necessarily. It’s a strange, foreign feeling. Alarming at first, like my skin’s the wax of a burning candle. But then, as I accept the changes happening, the warmth spreads pleasantly throughout my body. It’s like I’m being pampered.
One of the barracudas must sense my curiosity, for she brings me an ornate hand mirror. I try not to wonder how often they must do this for them to have one lying around, and hold it up. I watch with awe as my dark brown curls lighten into a soft shade of lavender and shrink, shorter and shorter, until my hair stops above my ears. Worry catches in my throat, and I reach to touch my hair in a panic, expecting it to be gone. And yet my fingers brush through my curls as they always do.
“Like I said,” Shanty says, amusement in her words, “it’s only a glamour. Try not to touch your hair; to everyone else, it will look as though you’re stroking the air.”
Shanty’s fingers roam my jaw next. I draw a sharp breath as she widens the structure and sharpens the bones. She spends several minutes altering the color of my eyes, and then thickens my brows into two perfect powder-pink arches. I have to resist scratching at the stubble that glamours my cheeks, trying to remind myself that my skin will still be smooth to the touch.
“Wear a coat to cover yourself,” she says simply, waving to my chest. “No one should recognize you like this.”
I barely manage a nod, unable to pull my hands away from my cheeks. “I’d no idea enchantment magic could do this.”
Shanty’s lips stretch into a smug grin as she moves on to Ferrick, cropping his red waves and strengthening his jaw. “Most people can only do parlor tricks; simple things like changing hair or eye color, or altering the fabric of their clothing. I’m one of the few full face-shifters.” She enlarges Ferrick’s eyes and softens them into a pastel blue to match his new hair. “But I’m training to be a full body-shifter. When I’m trying to play the part of someone else, I can’t tell you how many times these have gotten in the way of a disguise.” She motions to her own chest and drags her hand over her thick waist and down the generous curve of her hips for emphasis. “But yes, enchantment magic can do more than most people give it credit for, or that most take the time to uncover. All barracudas have found ways to expand the use of our allegedly frivolous magic, but few deal with faces.”
Though it should reassure me that Shanty’s one of the few who can perform this magic, my eyes wander, counting the women in the lounge. There are at least twenty barracudas, all with strangely unique enchantment magic.
“I can’t make any two people look perfectly identical,” Shanty murmurs, as if sensing my unease. “And I can’t alter height or size like Liam can, nor can I replicate someone else’s facial features perfectly. It’s more about working with the features someone already has, and adjusting them. Like a temporary game of dress-up. Enchantment magic is no different from any other—everyone uses it a little differently, and is more comfortable using it in certain ways.”
Shanty beams as she pulls away from Ferrick with dramatic flair, proudly showing off her work. He looks different enough not to be recognizable at first glance, but when I’m up close, squinting at the perpetual worry in his eyes and the thin bridge of his nose, he’s still very much himself.
Shanty’s magic is not a miracle by any means, but if I look as altered as Ferrick, we’re different enough to get away with this.
“What in the gods’ names have you done to my face?” He gasps as he touches it, pastel-blue brows furrowing. “I’ll never be able to trust another face for as long as I live.”
Even drunk, he’s right; if face-shifters exist, then who might I have passed in my life, thinking they were someone different than they were? Even if Shanty is one of the few, the existence of this magic is far from reassuring.