Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Winter
Iwoke to the sound of intense debate.
"—absolutely certain it's authentic?" Fenric's voice, precise and skeptical.
"As certain as I can be without more extensive testing," Dr. Thornwick's excited reply. "The parchment composition matches the era, and the energy signature is consistent with prophetic artifacts from the Alexandrian collection."
I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I got out of bed to see what the fuss was. Fenric, Dr. Thornwick, and Zane were gathered around my kitchen counter, examining what looked like an ancient scroll fragment.
"Morning, Shortstack," Zane noticed me first. "Sleep well?"
"Like someone who got chased by cultists and had their brain almost explode yesterday," my voice croaked as I ran a hand through my tangled hair. "What's going on?"
Dr. Thornwick bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. "A breakthrough! The scroll fragment that appeared during your evaluation, we've decoded a portion of it!"
I shuffled over, pulling my blanket I'd dragged with me tighter around my shoulders. "And?"
"Coordinates," Fenric's tablet was open to a map. "And a reference to something called the 'Feather of Eternal Discord.'"
"The whaty what now?" I blinked.
"The Feather of Eternal Discord," Dr. Thornwick's eyes gleamed with excitement. "A legendary artifact mentioned in several ancient texts, believed to be a source of primordial chaos magic."
"Sounds dramatic," I yawned. "Let me guess, I have to find it?"
"Precisely!" Dr. Thornwick clapped his tiny hands. "According to our analysis, this is the first of several trials you must complete to fulfill the prophecy."
"And where exactly is this feather?" I was already dreading the answer.
Fenric consulted his tablet. "The coordinates point to a location approximately thirty miles north of the city."
"What's there?" I poured myself coffee from the pot Zane had made and it was fresh.
Oh sweet heaven.
"Sunset Meadows," Zane answered with a barely suppressed smirk.
"Sunset Meadows?" The name sounded pleasant enough. That couldn't be too bad.
Right?
"It's a retirement community," Dr. Thornwick took a sip of his coffee, but I wasn't sure the overly excitable gnome should have anything that could make him even more insane. "For elderly magical beings."
I nearly choked on my coffee. "A what? You're telling me this powerful, mystical feather of whatever is in a magical nursing home?"
"Retirement community," Fenric corrected, his nose looked like it was in the air. "And yes, that appears to be the case."
I stared at them, waiting for the punchline. When none came, I burst out laughing. "You've got to be kidding me. My first big prophetic trial is at a retirement home? What am I supposed to do, play bingo for the fate of the universe?"
"The prophecy trial is quite specific," Fenric frowned at my levity. "The Feather of Eternal Discord must be retrieved by the Chalice-Bearer, that's you by the way, as the first step toward fulfilling your destiny."
Did Fenric just give me snark? Mr.Stickuphisass?
"This is ridiculous," I set my mug down with a thud, some of the precious liquid spilling. "What's next? The Slipper of Cosmic Balance at a magical daycare center?"
Dr. Thornwick adjusted his enormous glasses. "Actually, the text mentions a 'Crystal of Harmonic Resonance' as the second trial, but we haven't decoded its location yet."
I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "Of course it does."
"We should leave immediately," Fenric was already typing on his tablet. "I've assembled a detailed itinerary for the excursion, including optimal traffic routes."
"Hold up," Zane interrupted. "We can't just waltz into Sunset Meadows. They have strict visitor protocols."
"You've been there before?" I looked at the ex-demon bounty hunter in surprise.
Zane nodded. "I teach a senior yoga class there once a month. Trust me, those old-timers are powerful and particular about who enters their domain."
"So what do we do?" I picked up my coffee again and took a sip.
"We blend in," Zane grinned, a mischievous glint in his mismatched eyes. "I'll make a call."
Three hours later, I found myself walking through the immaculately landscaped grounds of Sunset Meadows Magical Retirement Community, trying not to gawk at my surroundings.
The place was beautiful with sprawling gardens filled with flowers that changed colors as you passed, fountains where the water flowed upward instead of down, and elegant buildings that seemed larger on the inside than physically possible. But what caught my attention were the residents.
An elderly centaur trotted slowly along a path, his white beard reaching almost to his hooves.
A group of witches, their faces lined with wrinkles and their eyes bright with ancient power, played what looked like magical chess with pieces that argued about their moves.
In a gazebo, a wizened old man with blue skin and gills was teaching what appeared to be water magic to a cluster of attentive goldfish.
Woah. This place was old people on crack.
"Remember," Fenric murmured beside me, dressed in a tweed jacket with elbow patches that made him look like a stuffy professor, "we're here to conduct a cultural enrichment program for the residents. That's our cover."
"Yeah, I got the memo," I wanted to flip him off but I didn't. The Bureau had hastily assembled disguises for all of us. I was wearing a "Magical Wellness Specialist" badge that kept changing its font every few minutes.
"Alright, team," Zane gathered us near a rose garden. He looked absurdly comfortable (and to be honest, adorable) in a bright orange visor and a polo shirt with the Sunset Meadows logo. "According to my contact, the Feather of Eternal Discord belongs to a resident named Wadsworth."
"Wadsworth?" Milo repeated, adjusting the fake mustache that was part of his "activities coordinator" disguise. "What kind of being is he?"
"A goose," Zane replied with a straight face.
I blinked. "I'm sorry, did you say a goose?"
Did he just say goose?!
"Not just any goose," Zane lowered his voice. "Wadsworth is a primordial chaos entity who's taken the form of a goose for the last few centuries. He's ancient, powerful, and by all accounts, an absolute jerk."
"Great," I sighed and rubbed my temples. "So we're here to steal a feather from an immortal chaos god who happens to be a cranky goose?"
"We're not stealing it," Fenric looked horrified at the suggestion. "That would violate at least seventeen Bureau regulations. We're going to respectfully request it."
Oh. That would be so easy.
"And if he says no?" Rook looked supremely uncomfortable in his "maintenance staff" uniform, complete with a name tag that read "Bob."
"Then we go to Plan B," Zane shrugged.
"Which is?" I could feel my right eye twitching.
"No idea," he grinned. "But we'll figure it out when we get there."
"Excuse me," a quavering voice interrupted our huddle. We turned to find an elderly woman with silver hair and pointed ears regarding us with suspicion. "Are you the new activities people? You're standing on my prize-winning enchanted roses."
Fenric immediately stepped off the flowerbed, apologizing profusely. The roses hissed at him.
"Yes, ma'am," Zane smoothly took over. "I'm Zane, the yoga instructor. You might remember me from last month's 'Downward Facing Dragon' class?"
The woman's face lit up. "Oh, Zane! Of course, I remember you, dear. My hip hasn't felt this good in centuries." She eyed the rest of us. "And these are your colleagues?"
"Cultural enrichment specialists," Zane patted my arm. "We're here for the special program today."
"Wonderful!" The woman clapped her hands. "It gets so dull around here sometimes. The same faces for decades, you know how it is."
"Actually," I seized the opportunity, "we were hoping to meet all the residents. Including, um, Wadsworth? I've heard so much about him."
The woman's smile faltered. "Wadsworth? Why would you want to meet that nasty old shit?"
"Research purposes," Fenric interjected stiffly. "We're conducting a study on longevity in magical beings."
"Well, good luck with that," she sniffed. "He lives by the north pond. Hardly anyone visits him, for good reason. Last week he turned Mortimer's walker into a swarm of butterflies, and poor Mortimer fell right into the koi pond."
"Thank you for the information," I smiled warmly. "We'll be careful."
As the woman hobbled away, I turned to the others. "North pond it is."
"Wait," Milo looked excited. "Did you notice the graveyard we passed on the way in? It's massive! Some of those graves are centuries old! Do you think if someone passed away while we're here, I could…"
"No," Fenric cut him off. "Absolutely not. Bureau regulation 876-B clearly prohibits unauthorized necromancy on Bureau missions."
"I wasn't going to do anything weird," Milo protested. "Just maybe make a new friend?" He looked like someone had smacked his puppy, or rather, skeleton?
"Focus, people," Zane tapped his wrist. "We need to split up to avoid suspicion. Rook, you're on perimeter watch. Fenric, go set up that boring lecture you planned as our cover. Milo, distract the staff. Winter and I will find Wadsworth."
Everyone nodded and dispersed to their assigned tasks. I fell into step beside Zane as we headed toward the north side of the property.
"So," I glanced at him sideways, "you really teach yoga here?"
"Every third Thursday," he confirmed. "The pay is terrible, but the stories are worth it. Last month, a 300-year-old warlock levitated during savasana and couldn't get back down. We had to use a butterfly net."
I laughed despite myself. "I'm trying to picture you being patient with a bunch of elderly magical beings."
"They're surprisingly great students," he shrugged. "When you've lived for centuries, you develop pretty good body awareness."