Magic Claims by Ilona Andrews

“It’s a poor workman who blames his tools, Father.”

He waved his hand at me dismissively. “An animal lacks the awareness necessary to comprehend the passage of time, but a human doesn’t. Ten millennia is a great deal of time. In fact, before I had gone into my sleep, our greatest scholars begged me to reconsider. They were afraid that when I woke, the world would be so different, it would drive me mad.”

I flipped through the book. Smilodon. Keelan’s shapeshifter had looked like mine. If I was right, and we had fought were-Smilodons, his head would explode. I turned the pages. Mastodon. Nope, don’t want to fight that. Giant beaver. That might explain the weird animals Isaac saw in the swamp. North American camel. Wow, bigger than the modern version.

I turned the page and stopped.

A massive lion looked back at me, its fur splattered with ghostly stripes. Huge paws, powerful frame, nearly eight hundred pounds. The African lion positioned next to it for scale looked like a skinny adolescent in comparison. Panthera atrox. North American lion.

Nobody knew for sure how shapeshifting had started, but the legend said that ages ago, far back in prehistory, when fierce predators ruled the planet, humans worshipped them as gods. Eventually they made a bargain, giving up a little of their humanity for the gifts of their animal deities. They then passed that gift onto others, diluting and weakening it in the process.

The descendants of those original Lyc-V carriers, those whose ancestors had made the bargain, were called the Firsts. They were exceedingly rare, and their power and control were off the scale. Other shapeshifters sensed them somehow and gathered around them, viewing them as natural leaders. Curran was a First and a Panthera atrox. And so was our son.

Conlan was looking at me, his eyes opened wide, trying to see if I understood what that image of the lion meant to him. I did. This was how he and Curran came to be. This was why they were different.

“I’m so proud of you,” I told him. “You did very well.”

Conlan grinned.

Roland’s expression turned grave. “If he’s correct, you are fighting something from our pre-history. I have no frame of reference. No one does. The magic you and I wield has been tamed and refined. It is a force that we have harnessed and bent to our will. What your opponent has is something completely different. It is wild and unchanged. It’s chaos.”

I looked into his eyes and saw genuine concern. To him, magic was a force defined by laws and rules. It was something he studied and used as a tool. It behaved in predicable ways that he fundamentally understood. He never liked witch magic or shapeshifter magic because it tapped into that primordial unpredictability that he sought to define and limit. It defied him, and so he rejected it.

This was infinitely more unpredictable than witch magic. This was wild magic, a raw power with unknown limits. It disturbed my father to his core. It disturbed me, too.

“Can you walk away from this?” he asked.

“No. I gave them my word. Curran gave them his word.”

He covered his face with his hands. “Of course you did. The two of you blundered into this with no idea of what you were facing.”

Conlan hopped in place like an excited kitten.

“Mom! Can I come?” His eyes were like two headlights coming at you on a dark road.

My father took his hands from his face and stared at his grandson.

“No, you may not! Have you heard nothing I have said?”

Conlan looked at me, his face desperate. “Ice Age animals!”

Power swirled around my father.

“I FORBID IT.”

The palace shook from the impact.

To me, this was ancient history coming to life after lying dormant for eons and killing people. To Curran and Conlan, it was much more. My father was right about one thing: every one of us had roots.

“DAUGHTER! DO YOU NOT CARE FOR YOUR CHILD?”

The full power of his magic reverberated through me. Ouch.

“It’s the origin of his bloodline.”

“I AM THE ORIGIN OF HIS BLOODLINE!”

The palace trembled again.

“One of the origins. He isn’t a clone of you, Father. He is a prince of Shinar, but he is also a First, and his animal counterpart hasn’t walked the planet for over ten thousand years. This may be his only chance to experience the world as it had been.”

Roland glared at me.

Nobody knew what we would find in the forest. Whatever it was could vanish once we took down the power ruling over it. Conlan would likely never again see it in his lifetime. Ice Age mammals didn’t exactly pop out of nowhere every day like daisies.

Penderton was dangerous. But I had made up my mind. Conlan was a child, but he was a child of two trained killers. He would be fine.

“You may come.”

Conlan grinned ear to ear and vanished.

My father’s face was terrible.

A mountain rose in the distance, split in half with a thunderous crack, and spewed molten lava. Roland strode to the rail and gazed at it. I came to stand next to him. We watched the eruption for a while, with a stream of glowing lava flowing to the sea and very considerately avoiding the gardens. Minutes ticked by.

The eruption seemed to ebb.

“Feel better?” I asked carefully.

“Not appreciably, no. This is a terrible idea. You are putting the boy in real danger. You and that savage you call your spouse blundered into something you cannot comprehend and now you will allow my grandson to join you on this idiotic quest. Can you at least understand that?”