Wyverns and Waffles (Shifters and Sweets #7)
Chapter 1
What a glorious day.
Calvin Strickland took a deep breath of warm early summer air as he hiked along the trail, barely managing to keep himself from sighing in contentment.
It had been so long since he’d managed to get away from his regular life that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to simply lose himself in the lush greenness of nature.
Normally at this time of day he’d be busy running a construction site, yelling out instructions to the men he oversaw or hauling materials from one end of the build to the other.
But he’d finally managed to get some vacation time now that his latest project was complete, and his wyvern had been getting antsy, so he’d headed off to the mountains for a little R&R.
Or R&R&F, he supposed – there was a heavily implied Flying tacked onto the end. The wyvern had made it clear that it expected a wyvern vacation, not just a human vacation.
And so, he found himself here, halfway up a mountain on a brilliant summer’s day. The wyvern had demanded to go somewhere new, so he’d looked around online until he found an area that seemed to have a lot of wilderness and not too many people, and then he’d packed his camping gear and set off.
The wyvern needs enrichment, he thought wryly.
His wyvern huffed in irritation. I am no mere canine, it spat.
No, Calvin countered. Canines know how to follow orders.
The wyvern hissed, before curling up in the corner to sulk, coiling its scaly tail around its body before wrapping itself up in its enormous wings. It would have described the action as ruminating or contemplating, but Calvin knew a sulk when he saw one.
Calvin tried to suppress a smile. The wyvern was an annoyingly imperious beast at the best of times, but, well, it was his annoyingly imperious beast. The two of them managed to get along. More or less. Most of the time.
Coming to what appeared to be a disused track, so overgrown that it was barely discernable, Calvin checked the map on his phone.
The hidden track wasn’t showing up as an option at all, which wasn’t surprising – he probably would’ve walked on past it if his shifter senses hadn’t picked up a slight discrepancy.
He knew he shouldn’t follow it. Hell, the official track that he was already on was technically closed for maintenance at the moment.
But it wasn’t as if he was any old regular hiker – his wyvern’s sense of direction was so uncanny that there was no chance of him getting lost, his shifter reflexes would allow him to dodge any unexpected rockslides, and Calvin would have liked to see the bear that thought it could take him on.
Not that he was planning to be on the ground for long anyway – the whole reason he’d come out here, after all, was to shift and fly.
Why not? he thought, and the wyvern took a few seconds out of its moping schedule to huff its approval. The more remote the path, the less likely they were to be spotted by random passersby.
Pushing the curtain of branches carefully aside, he found himself on an abandoned but still somewhat functional path.
His heartrate increased as he made his way along the steep, narrow trail, tree roots and wayward branches conspiring to trip him and pull at his clothes with every step. It was a challenge, but he enjoyed challenges.
Eventually, after navigating his way through one last tangle of vines, he stepped out of the cool shadows, and into a circle of sun-splashed splendor.
Wow, he thought, unable to take everything in at first glance.
Before him stood an exquisitely lovely glade, in the middle of which was a beautiful babbling spring surrounded by rocks and ferns, the shifting sunlight playing over the water’s surface.
The wyvern approvingly noted that the break in the trees’ canopy would be the perfect place for it to take off from, but Calvin was too busy admiring the scenery to pay much attention.
I can’t believe that this place is just sitting here, apparently untouched. How long has it been since anyone last went down this path?
The clear water of the sunlit spring was calling to him – he couldn’t help but think that it would be great to dip his feet into its crystalline waters after the long, hard climb up here. He was here to get back to nature, after all, and what better way than a little barefoot paddling?
Shucking off his shoes, he dipped his toes into the cool water with a contented sigh –
And promptly leaped back about six feet as a flash momentarily blinded him.
Rubbing at his eyes, his wyvern immediately on edge, Calvin readied himself for danger and wondered what on earth that had just been. He was pretty sure it was more than just a particularly bright shaft of sunlight piercing through the trees.
Wait a minute – whoa!
He resisted the urge to jump back even farther as he saw a woman standing on the other side of the spring – a woman who definitely hadn’t been there only a moment ago, but who was now definitely looking at him with a less-than-friendly expression on her face.
“Who dares violate the sanctity of my waters?!”
Her voice had a weird musical quality to it, even as she was obviously pretty angry about him putting his feet anywhere near what she called her waters.
To be honest, in the moment before his brain could catch up with what was happening – or seemed to be happening – Calvin had to admit, he couldn’t blame her. His feet weren’t exactly fresh after two and a half hours of hiking.
But then his brain did catch up, and the freshness of his feet was suddenly the last thing on his mind.
Because, beyond the average-level weirdness of this woman claiming to own some random water in the woods, there was a whole lot more high-level weirdness going on. Like the fact that she seemed to be silvery, and, well, glowing.
Yeah. That’s weird, all right.
But Calvin had been raised to question everything, even within the context of being a mythical shape-shifting being himself, and it had served him pretty well in life so far.
A healthy dose of skepticism had saved his bacon in a bunch of situations, and he wasn’t about to go making assumptions about things that may or may not be happening after he’d spent hours hiking through the forest. It could be as simple as someone playing an elaborate prank, or perhaps he just hadn’t had enough water to drink and was now dangerously dehydrated.
Calvin was a rational kind of guy who operated within the bounds of the real world, and whackadoos in the woods were a dime a dozen.
If the woman looked like she was glowing, then perhaps it was because it was sunny out today and there was glare coming off the pond.
If she’d seemed to appear out of nowhere, maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her standing behind one of the massive trees of the forest. And if she was calling the pond her waters –
“Look,” Calvin told her, raising his hands. “Sorry – I didn’t realize there was anyone else here, let alone someone who’d already claimed this camping spot. I can move on if I’m bothering you.”
Mainly, he was just relieved the woman had shown herself before he’d shifted. He would have had a much bigger problem on his hands than a territorial camper if she’d seen him in his wyvern form.
The woman simply stared at him – and Calvin did kind of notice her pale silver hair was floating around her head like a halo as she did so – so he was just planning on putting his shoes back on and moving off, vowing to be more careful at the next spot he came to, when she spoke again.
“I can forgive this intrusion,” she said, and once again her voice sounded almost like music dancing on the wind, “if, of course, you have brought me my proper tribute. I haven’t had a tribute in years – you have perhaps returned to bring me one?”
A tribute?
“Uh, sorry,” Calvin replied, unsure what else to say.
Well, this was weird, but as long as he got away quick he didn’t think there’d be trouble. “I don’t have a tribute, but I won’t be disturbing your peace. I’ll be on my way now.”
That should have been the end of it.
But instead…
“No tribute?!”
The woman looked aghast, as if it was unfathomable that someone would even conceive of entering the woods without bringing a tribute for whichever weird woman should happen to pop up.
With what was apparently great magnanimity on her part, she visibly composed herself. “As you have not brought me a tribute, I may consider forgiving you if you solve my riddle.”
Consider… forgiving me?
It was becoming pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to get out of this situation without at least somewhat playing along with this lady’s sense of humor, or whatever was going on here.
A cameraman will probably pop out of the forest at any moment and tell me I’ve been pranked, he thought, suppressing a grimace. Or a kid with a cell phone. They put these joke videos up online now, don’t they?
In that case, he supposed the best he could hope for was not making a complete idiot out of himself.
But… solving a riddle?
Calvin’s heart sank like a stone. He hated riddles.
He was pretty much doomed.
In rich, measured tones, the woman began to recite: “I am mother and father, but never birth or nurse. I have a bark, but no bite. I'm rarely still, but I never wander. What am I?”
Calvin stared at her. “Uh… could you say that one more time?”
The woman looked at him with supreme contempt, speaking slowly, as if to a small child.
“I am mother and father, but never birth or nurse. I have a bark, but no bite. I'm rarely still, but I never wander. What am I?”
“Can I get a hint?” he asked weakly.
Unsurprisingly, this was apparently not the answer she’d been looking for.
The woman drew herself up to her full though still somewhat diminutive height, her eyes flashing like silvery beams – It’s the sunlight, dammit! Calvin insisted to himself – and her voice rocketed up the musical scales as she spoke.