“And shall remain so, Gastelairephon,” I said meaningfully, with a sniff, “‘cause I ain’t talkin’.”
Gasep laughed. “As my father named me,” he said with a nod, “but Gasep rolls off the tongue much easier, does it not? You may have your secrets then, Lady Vel.” There was an easygoingness to the Pegosian I appreciated now more than ever. The male crapped rainbows. “Broz, I believe,” he added, his tone going grave, though his face gave away a hint of mirth, “will not be so easily satisfied.”
Grimacing, making my way over to one of the rickety looking chairs lining Leste’s tables, I pulled it out and began swiping the dust off of it. Plopping down into it, I sighed. Wiggling in my arms, Cap squirmed his way towards my face and began to doggy kiss the crap out of my chin. His tail began to wag as I protested, turning my head this way and that to avoid him. Smiling, I laughed softly. Scratching those half folded, adorable ears, I stared down at my doggo with nothing short of adoration. This mutt was my fur kid. If I was to be stuck in some crazy place such as this, at least I had him by my side.
“The creature offers you comfort. He is your companion, emotionally,” Peggy-poo murmured, studying us.
“Yeah.” I smiled down at Cap, who’d settled the crazy licking once I’d started to pet him properly. “He’s my little buddy, through thick and thin.”
“That you do not eat,” he added, like he deserved brownie points for pointing out the fact.
“That nobody eats,” I corrected warily, shifting my dog along with my body so we were slightly facing away from the oversized man-pony.
Leste chose that moment to come barreling in, breathless, panting. Slamming the door shut behind him and locking it, he brushed a hand through his long hair, the braid that had been trailing down his back now more akin to a rat’s nest. “Savages!” he huffed out, shaking his head and striding farther into the room. “The lot of them. Spiny tailed, roaring menaces with the horns and the wings, flapping around breathing fire all wild and woolly. Trying to send the lot of us straight to the poorhouse! A hundred saphs for that lot. Hah! He was lucky I offered him fifteen emers... greedy... worthless... hissing... yank his fur, see how he likes it...”
His steps clipped out loudly as he strode past me. Stopping to turn and head back my way, he came to a stop right before me. Hands on his hips, he simply stared down at me. My hand never let up petting Cap. It was the only thing keeping me sane.
“I’d like to go home now,” I pleaded softly, “please.”
Sighing heavily, his hand went to his forehead and he rubbed the spot between his eyes as if he had a headache coming on. “That’s just the problem. That mirror is not magical in any way, never has been. It’s an ugly piece from my father’s estate. It’s lined with fredenum, rendering it incapable of breaching. You, my dear, I’m afraid, defied all odds when you came crashing through that piece, stumbling into my protected quarters, I might add.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” I cried out, swallowing past the lump forming in my throat. “Earth English, please!”
“After your outburst in the courtyard, I’m beginning to gather that,” he muttered, grimacing as he glanced down at me, my dog, then at the mirror.
“Leste...” Swallowing hard, I reached for the hand still hugging his hip, clutching his fingers tight. “I just want to go home. I just...”
“There is a chance that is exactly what the mirror allowed, offering you entry back into your own world. Your true world.” The mage gave a short shrug.
“Bull! My folks are from Jersey!” I blurted, to Gasep and Leste’s utter confusion.
“How else would you care to explain your sudden and untimely appearance?” Leste countered. “Beings don’t just pop out of unenchanted mirrors protected from such things, into spelled living quarters, quarters of a very prestigious mage, no less.” Leste grabbed the front of his robes and gave them a sharp tug, sending them too far forward. Puffing out his chest, a tiny harrumph of a huff left him.
Someone thought mighty highly of themselves. I didn’t care. He could think what he liked all he liked, I just wanted the heck outta here. “Is there no way to get me back to my own world?”
“If that even is really your world,” Leste mused thoughtfully. He was really warming up to the idea. His eyebrows slowly rose as he tapped a long, tapered finger along his chin. Like hell did I belong to this circus.
Gasep looked to Leste, who glanced his way briefly, and the pair shared a look. I hated that crap, the secret looks that could pass for entire conversations, strange as that sounded. There was a wealth of meaning in that short but telling exchange.
“Malour was a rather secretive one...” Leste’s lips pursed in a weird moue.
Gasep cocked his head. “Deneck’s sudden disappearance was never explained.”
Now they were both eyeing me.
Leste’s gaze paused on my hair and eyes. “She does rather have the look of them, if watered down a bit.” Nodding, he waved a hand at Gasep. “Bad breeding. Not direct kin, I’d say. Probably mixed with whatever this Earth had to offer, until the magic became recessive.”
“Skipped a generation or two.” Gasep’s face lit with understanding, like they had it all figured out by now.
“What? My grandparents, ancestors, great whatevers, weren’t magic people. They- We- It’s not true!” I practically howled. The walls started to shake suddenly with my outburst. Squeaking in shock, I clapped a hand over my mouth. My eyes bugged, bulging, gaze darting about the room. Jumping from my arms, Cap leapt to the floor, scrambling around, barking at the magicks sparking off the walls.
Gasep pointed a thick finger at my pup. “I thought he was meant to offer comfort.” Wincing as Cap yapped on, weaving between the Unipeg’s legs and mine in a doggy zoomies frenzy, he shook his head as if to clear the sound from his taxed ears. “That,” he rumbled emphatically, “is not of any comfort.”
“Cap, quit,” I said quietly, then, louder when he wouldn’t stop, “Cap, enough.”
“He is a rather pitiful thing,” Leste murmured, frowning as he eyed my dog with an inscrutable look. “Is that all the beast does? Offer comfort and bark?” The mage grimaced as he said this, as if he found the idea not only ridiculous but slightly repugnant.
“No,” I grunted out, chasing after my little turd of a dog in the small space as he barked his ever loving head off at the unshaking walls. “He offers friendship,” I added lamely, winded, “comfort,” now I was just repeating myself, “protection-”
“From what?” Gasep asked suddenly. “He’s smaller than a tebbimenk.”
“What the hell’s a tebbimenk?” I’d like to know. Scooping up Cap, I glanced around, wondering if that meant mutant magical rat.
“A gryphon would snatch him up for supper, to be sure. A hawk, even,” Leste added thoughtfully. “Does he protect you from yourself?” the wizard asked with an amused look as I brushed my hair out of my face. His lips twitched as mine pursed. My eyes narrowed, my jaw clamping shut, face ticking in answer. His lips kicked up a bit at the corners, just enough to count as a smirk. Jerk.