Page 28 of Horn in My Side

Jasmine’s fingers flew over the keyboard and hit play when she found the right video. She tsk ed as a dark blur flew through the glass. “Too fast for the cameras to capture it.”

“It definitely flew, though.”

“Something with wings, then. A griffin?”

“Didn’t see a tail. Phoenix?”

“They don’t hatch from eggs—they regenerate from ash. Could the carcinos or whatever it is have just flown off? Is it gone from Dewberry Falls? Are we too late?”

“It’s possible. But what do you think?”

She shrugged and leaned against the counter, elbows planting on the top and burying her face in her palms. “I have no idea.”

A gentle, heavy hand landed on her shoulder. “Jasmine, I need to ask you something.”

She lifted her head up. “What is it?”

“What does your instinct tell you?”

“Instinct?”

“Yes.” His lips pressed together, tightening around his tusks. “Do you ever get these feelings or ideas and they turn out to be right?”

“Sometimes, but doesn’t everyone? And I’m not always right.”

He let out a grunt. “How about with the animals here? Do you feel particularly close to them? Like you seem to know what they want or what’s wrong with them.”

“Well, it’s not that hard,” she said. “They want food and a safe place to live. And if they act out of the ordinary, they’re usually sick.” She thought for a moment. “But there was this one time . . .”

“Yes? Go on?”

“We special-ordered this hybrid basilisk, right?” Her fingers clutched at the ends of her braid.

“When she arrived, I just knew something was wrong. She wouldn’t eat or move around her tank.

The supplier said she was fine when he left his farm.

The vet we called in said we probably needed to switch her food.

But I didn’t agree. Like, I could tell she was sick, just from the way she looked at me, as if she were asking for my help. ”

“What did you do?” he asked in a gentle tone.

“I looked back through the delivery company’s records and I hounded them all day until I got a hold of the warehouse in Spokane where the basilisk stayed for one night on the way here. Turns out, they were also holding some weasels in the same warehouse.”

“What?” he said, incredulous. “Weasel odor is deadly to basilisks.”

“I tore them a new one. Thank the Mother Goddess I found out that day and was able to administer the antidote in time.” Thinking about the whole thing infuriated her again. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

Mal’s expression turned serious. “Jasmine, I believe you have an affinity for animals. Not just because you love them, but because you’re in tune with their nature on a metaphysical level. A kind of magical link with them.”

“M-magic?” She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d told her he thought she was a mermaid or a vampire. “That can’t be.”

“I noticed it not only with the egg but other things. Let me show you.” His humungous palm engulfed her hand, the calloused skin rough and warm against hers.

Lifting their entwined hands, he led her away from the counter and toward the oozlum cages, where four of the little feathered creatures flew around backwards in circles around the cage.

Letting go of her hand, Mal placed his palm against the side of the cage.

“See?”

“See what? There’s nothing happening.”

“Exactly. Now.” Circling her wrist, he placed her hand in the same spot. “Look.”

The oozlums slowed, then flittered toward her hand. Their claws clung to the bars, stopping right by her fingers, chirping happily.

“They always do that,” she said.

“Not for me.” He pulled her hand away and replaced it with his, and the creatures went back to their usual flight path. “The other animals act the same way too.”

Jasmine could only stare at his hand, her mind whirling like the oozlum’s reversed flight trajectory.

“Surely you’ve had other experiences in the past?”

“Yes, but I . . . How come I didn’t notice? Do you suppose Vrig could tell?”

“It’s possible. Perhaps he didn’t say anything because he thought you knew.” He scratched a claw on his chin. “But aren’t you human? Do you have someone in your family tree who wielded magic? An ancestor maybe?”

Her lungs squeezed the air from her body.

An ancestor.

“Jasmine? Are you okay? You look pale. Do you want to sit down?”

She lifted her face to meet his gaze. “No.” Her lungs decided to work again as she took in a deep breath. “But I might have an explanation. In my family, we have something we call The Inheritance.”

“Like money or property?”

“No, nothing like that.” She didn’t know quite how to explain it to an outsider, but she had to try.

“The Inheritance isn’t a physical thing.

It’s a gift. See, my grandfather was our town’s medicine man.

An albularyo , as we say. He could heal people by whispering spells and making herbal cures from plants. ”

“He had magic, then?”

“Yes. According to family legend, one of my ancestors, Emilio Gonzalez, received this power from a goddess or spirit. She disguised herself as a poor, sick woman who walked into town one day. No one would help her except Emilio, who took her in, nursed her back to health and gave her food and clothing. After three days, she returned to her true form, and as a reward, gave Emilio the ability to heal sick people and lift curses.”

“So you have these powers now.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“You saw—”

“No, no. I can’t. It’s not possible.” She stopped to catch her breath, as her heart was pounding as if she were running a marathon.

Or running away from her past.

“There was a catch, you see. The Inheritance could only be wielded by one person in the family at one time, passed on from one male heir to another, and chosen before the current holder dies. Naturally, only someone with male children could inherit, or else the magic would be lost forever once the current holder passes. When my grandfather died, my dad’s younger brother inherited it. So, it’s impossible that I have it.”

“But you still have magic in your line? Couldn’t it be possible you have it?”

“No.”

“Even just—”

“Haven’t you been listening?” she said bitterly. “I can never wield that magic; it will never pass through my line. It’s only meant for the male members of my family. My father lost out on The Inheritance because I was unlucky enough to be born a girl.”

And that was it. The secret she kept all these years, carried around with her, forming a looming shadow over her relationship with her father. Jed never said it outright to her face, he would never, of course, but she had overheard that snippet of conversation, and it became clear to her.

It’s not fair. It’s because of Jasmine, isn’t it? The Inheritance should have been passed to me.

“First of all, that’s a bunch of hydra dung. It’s not your fault.” Mal snorted. “Are you sure no female has ever received the magic? Or that it can’t be shared between two people?”

“As far as I know, never.”

“Or the men in your family didn’t want to share it with the female offspring.”

“Whether it’s true or not, the family legend stands. There’s only been one albularyo for every generation and they’ve always been male.”

“Hmm.” Mal’s nose wrinkled.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is it?”

“Orcs have this belief, you see.” He held her gaze, eyes turning luminous purple as he spoke.

“We aren’t traditional magic wielders, but our ancestors held on to what little magic they had and cultivated it, used it, shaped it to meet our needs.

Somehow, this magic wove itself into our DNA , at least that’s what our orc scientists say.

It builds and spreads, multiplies as you use it.

Perhaps the same thing happened with your family, a little bit of magic bleeding into the next generation’s soul each time it passed on, giving all of Emilio’s direct descendants the potential to wield The Inheritance, even the women.

Regardless, you have some magic in you or an affinity for it, finely tuned for all kinds of creatures and powerful enough to draw them in or become immune to them. ”

“Like the cockatrice.”

His lips spread into a smile. “Exactly.”

Jasmine pressed a hand to her chest. “This is . . . a lot to process right now.” But what Mal was saying made sense somehow. Perhaps that’s why she was drawn to the shop, the animals, maybe even to Dewberry Falls.

“Take your time, think about it.”

“Not right now. We have to find the carcinos—or whatever hatched from that egg.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek. “How can I use my m-magic to find it?” She tripped over the word, as it felt strange on her tongue.

“I’m not sure, but maybe you can let your instinct guide you. Every creature inside here has magic and leaves a trace. See if you can connect to that.”

“All right.” She walked out toward the middle of the room, to the broken tank.

Thank goodness the beautiful platform hadn’t been destroyed, though she did notice something at the corner, right where the carved cockatrices were sitting on the vine.

The wood there looked darker, as if it had been burned.

Huh.

She ran her finger over the scorch marks. “Still warm.” Closing her eyes, she focused on the spot.

Suddenly, a gust of wind came from nowhere, loosening strands of her hair from her braid. Something flittered across the darkness behind her lids. Glittery and shiny . . . like gold and diamonds.

Her eyes flew open. “I know where it is.”

Not bothering to wait for him, she marched outside, retracing her steps down Main Street, to the last shop at the end.

“Glitter and Gold Jewelry Emporium?” Mal, who had been trailing behind her the whole time, read out. “You think Clawed or Clawdia came here?” When she sent him a teasing smile, he shrugged. “We have to call it something. So, why here?”