A hidden human, a magical locket, and a choice between two worlds

So much has happened, and I’m not sure where to start. I desperately want to tell you everything about the last several months, but it’s too much for one missive, and my bandwidth is restricted, even here at the University, where I have a protected connection. If I can only tell you about one thing, it has to be the locket. It changed everything.

I was gathering my toiletries to get ready for bed when I noticed a little box on my desk. I share a dorm room with Brandon at the University at Seahaven, but he was out doing some field research for Phoebe, the lead researcher at the Shifter Academy. The box was perched on top of a folded letter wrapped in plain brown paper with a silver bow. I extracted the letter and opened it, testing the weight of the little box in my hand.

Dearest Jay,

This gift will help you on your way. It won’t speak to me, but I suspect it will like you just fine. Powerful magic items like this tend to be very forward. Once you attune to it, you will no longer need disguises or charms. But be careful; items like this are hungry. Don’t lose yourself in the possibilities.

Your friend,

Phoebe

When we arrived from Denhaven, Phoebe had gifted me a shifter lanyard, marking me as a gifted student instead of a rogue human. The University at Seahaven has the world’s largest and most distinguished Shifter Academy; animals in people form are part of the curriculum. More than intrigued by this new parcel, I tore open the package.

Inside the unassuming little box was the most beautiful locket I’d ever seen. I couldn’t drag my eyes away; it consumed my entire field of vision. Carved and inlaid with the figure of a cat wearing a tiny version of the same locket, it glowed with its own internal light and whispered for me to examine it more closely. I don’t remember plucking it from the box, only its warmth in my palm. It vibrated against my skin, and I shivered. I wanted it closer to me and instinctively held it to my chest. Looking at the words I’ve written, it sounds unbelievable now, but the locket wanted me to wear it, begging me to make it mine. And so, I put it on.

What happened next is beyond my ability to describe. My body began to change, angles shifting and pulling in on themselves. Panic burned in my throat, doused by the most disorienting wave of nausea I’ve ever experienced. The floor rushed up to meet me, and I don’t even remember hitting it. That’s when things got really out of hand. I turned to push myself off the floor, but my hands weren’t mine. They were short and covered in fur. Unable to process what I was seeing, I crawled to the bathroom mirror, dragged myself upright, and stopped cold.

A black cat peered back at me—a cat with my eyes. The furred face mimicked my state of shock. The locket no longer had a cat carved on it but a tiny, inlaid human wearing an even smaller locket. This was real magic.

A knock at the door jarred my already frayed nerves, and I nearly tripped over my own paws (paws!), scrambling to answer. I was so out of sorts that it didn’t even occur to me not to. After some scrabbling with the knob, I finally pulled the door open to find Phoebe standing outside holding an overstuffed folder. Her often-disheveled white fur fell in swaths around her face, framing her academic glasses and wolfish snout. Flannels and jeans had replaced her normal suit during the academic break, but I’d never seen her without her lab jacket, and tonight was no exception. Her initial shock at my appearance dissolved into a grin.

“I thought it would like you,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “How do you feel?”

She crouched down and looked me over, adjusting her glasses and squinting at the locket around my neck.

“I feel strange,” I said, somewhat surprised that my voice sounded the same. “Smaller?”

Phoebe laughed, pulling herself into a cross-legged position on the rug. “It worked just like I thought it would.” She leaned forward and tapped the locket, sending a sudden stab of rage through my brain.

“Don’t touch it,” I growled, the hackles down my back rising and poofing out my tail behind me.

“Interesting.” She flipped open the folder she was holding and made a few quick notes on the top page. “Can you change back?”

That was something I hadn’t had time to consider yet. “I don’t know.” I looked down at the locket. “What do I do?”

“Try opening the locket from the other side,” she said. “It’s supposed to open both ways —one side for your human form, the other for your cat form.”

I looked at my paws, flicking my claws out and wondering how to open a locket with cat digits. It turns out I didn’t need to. As soon as I started to wedge a claw into the other side of the clasp, it opened on its own. I was more prepared for the change this time, but it still left me gasping on my knees, my nose touching the long, cool hardwood planks.

“Good,” Phoebe stood, brushing off her lab coat. “Well done.”

I groaned in response, and she chuckled.

“You’ll get used to it,” she said, pulling a thick stack of papers from her folder. “I have something else for you too.”

I pulled myself to my feet, woozy from the sudden form shift, and resisted the urge to flick open the locket again. I was starting to understand what it meant for a magic item to be hungry. When I glanced up, Phoebe was studying me, her brow furrowed.

“You know what?” She tucked the papers back into her folder and snapped it shut. “This can wait. It’s New Year’s Eve. I think it’s time for you to meet the Shifter’s Club. You’ve been cooped up by yourself for too long.”

I must have made a face because she giggled and took my arm. “You’ll like them,” she said, smiling. “And they’ll be obsessed with you.”

My brain started broadcasting static on all channels. When was the last time I’d met a group of unknowns? Whatever I had that passed for social skills were surely creaky and covered in cobwebs, not that I was ever very socially adept.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” I licked my lips and tried to smile. “I mean, what if I freak them out?”

“Oh, you’ll freak them out, all right, but not the way you think.” She led me out the door and around the corner.

I followed her down a winding hallway, wishing myself back into my little room under the eaves with each step. This was going to be a disaster; I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.

“It’s okay to be nervous”—Phoebe smiled over her shoulder— “nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I’m not,” I sputtered. “I mean, I’m fine. Just tired, is all.”

She smiled and led me up another flight of stairs.

“Many students go home over break, so it’s a small group right now.”

We swung left down a long hallway lined with tall portraits. The eyes of the animals in the pictures seemed to follow me as we passed.

Imposter, they hissed from their carved wooden frames.

My heart doubled its pace, cold sweat prickling my upper lip. Phoebe had stopped, her hand on the knob of a door at the end of the hall.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I squeaked, scrambling to catch up and glancing back the way we came. “I’m not sure I’m feeling great…”

She smiled and opened the door.

It was a cozy space stuffed full of couches, chairs, and bookcases. A coffee maker burbled from the corner, and the smell of stale popcorn wafted out the door. Every inch of this room screamed clubhouse, including the two animals staring at me from the overstuffed sofa.

“Small group today.” Phoebe strolled over to the conglomeration of couches. “Just you two left for the break?”

“Melvin’s around here somewhere.” A young fawn flung a very human-looking arm over the back of the couch and squinted at Phoebe. “But Melvin’s too good for us.”

“That sounds about right.” Phoebe laughed and gestured for me to join her, but my feet were rooted to the doorjamb. “I have a visitor to introduce you to.” She extended an arm toward me. “This is Jay from the People Lands. Jay, this is—”

“I’m Dawn.” The young fawn was hanging half over the back of the couch now, studying me with her wide brown eyes.

She was mostly human from the waist up, her spotted sides sliding into rear haunches that, despite her upright posture, were clearly the hock and hoof of a deer. Her fuzzy antlers seemed to grow as I looked at her. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“Holy crow! You must be a full-on shifter, what with the way you look.” She leaned forward, and her right antler sprouted a new fork.

“Jay is helping me with my research.” Phoebe smiled and gestured again for me to come sit. “I thought some friends might make the loneliness of a new place a little easier.”

“For sure,” Dawn said, scrambling over the back of the couch and hooking her arm through mine. “How did you get your fingers so perfect?” She grabbed my hand and spread my fingers over hers. She was wearing long fingerless gloves with leather straps. “I’ve been working on mine forever and still have to wear these stupid gloves.” She wiggled her fingers. The tips looked okay but got strange toward the base, too long and shapeless, like hotdogs.

“I wouldn’t have noticed—”

“That’s super nice of you, isn’t it, Rylee?” She nodded to a raccoon perched on a bench next to the couch. Rylee hadn’t said anything yet, but her smile lit up the room. She was more humanoid than Dawn; for all practical purposes, her body shape was that of a young lady —at least it would have been if you overlooked the full pelt of raccoon fur, complete with a bushy striped tail. Dawn tugged me to the sofa and grinned.

“Rylee isn’t dealing with hands yet; she’s just getting started, right, Ry?”

Rylee nodded and smiled, clasping her furry fingers together in her lap.

“I can already tell we’re going to be friends. No worries about that.” Dawn nodded and made a shooing gesture to Phoebe. “And Ry’s a treat, too, so we’ll all three work on our shifting together. What’s your base shape?” She whipped around and looked at me. “A bird?”

“A bird?” Her words flew through the air so fast my brain couldn’t keep up.

“Sure, I thought just because of your name, you know?”

“My name?”

“No shifting for now,” Phoebe looked at me with a creased brow. “We’ve been running tests all day, and Jay is tired.”

I was grateful for her intervention. What could I teach these two about shifting anyway? I didn’t even know how I did it.

“Fine,” Dawn said, squeezing my arm and smiling at Phoebe. “No shifting.”

She winked at me, and a bubble of warmth grew in my chest.

“For now.” Dawn climbed over the back of the couch and herded Phoebe to the door. “Don’t worry,” she said as she shoved her through, “we’ll be on our best behavior.”

Phoebe turned and gave Dawn a warning look. “You better be,” she said, glancing at me.

I tried to smile at her, but Dawn just nodded and shut the door.

There was a moment of silence, and the three of us just looked at each other: Dawn with her back pressed to the door, Rylee perched on the edge of the bench, and me sunk into the overstuffed sofa. I could see my social anxiety spin out in front of me like a shroud between us. Then we all broke out laughing, my heart settled, and the fog cleared as if our cackles had shaken my anxiety loose and cast it away.

We spent all evening together, the three of us talking about our lives. Well, Dawn talked about her life, anyway. But I was happy to listen. Rylee was more reserved, but next to Dawn, anyone would seem like an introvert. I was yawning by the time the big clock in the tower struck eleven.

“No time for that,” Dawn said, springing up from the sofa and looking at her watch. “It’s almost midnight. Let’s go to the beach and watch the fireworks!” She glanced sideways at Rylee and crooked a mischievous smile. “Not strictly out of bounds, you know.”

I didn’t know but found myself nodding anyway. Rylee clapped her hands and slid down from the bench, her large striped tail following her. Why not go to the beach? I was more incognito than ever with the locket, and some fresh air might clear my head. I must have agreed because we were squeezing through a passageway headed to the surface before I knew it.

“Beach will be crowded, so we better go in animal form,” Dawn said from ahead, talking to everyone and no one as her human features pulled back into the shape of a deer. “We’ll stay on the cliffs. Better view anyway.”

I convinced them I needed to duck into the bathroom before we left campus and slipped into a stall on the second floor. Pulse pounding in my ears, I slid a fingernail into the side of the locket, silently hoping it would work for me a second time. It sprung open as if waiting impatiently to shift me back to cat form. I braced myself, but the change was much smoother this time, less nausea and vertigo. I licked one paw and ran it over my face, a low purr rumbling from deep in my throat. Satisfied that everything was in order, I padded back into the hallway. Dawn squealed, and Rylee clapped, making me blush under my fur.

“I never would have guessed cat—” Dawn pranced in a circle around me— “but totally makes sense, doesn’t it, Ry?”

Rylee nodded and smiled as I worked to reconnect my brain to my tongue.

At the end of the passage, a door stood sentinel, warnings plastered across it. Dawn peered down the hall and waved Rylee to the access panel. Rylee was now in full raccoon shape, but her big brown eyes had stayed the same, warm and welcoming. After a minute of typing codes, the portal slid open, revealing thick foliage on the other side. A thin path meandered away through the heavy greenery, and they bound through. Rylee looked over her shoulder and gestured for me to follow. I stepped through the door, pausing to relish the cool breeze that ruffled the fur all over my body. It was pleasant in a way that’s hard to describe.

“Come on,” Dawn called, trotting ahead. “Fireworks are just starting!”

We emerged from the foliage onto a rim of cliffs overlooking a beach town. Mingled sounds of conversation floated up from groups of people gathered on the beach. That’s when it struck me. There were people below us. Actual people. Tears burned the corners of my eyes, and I had to swallow a lump of nostalgia or risk choking on it. I glanced back at my new friends and then at the little figures celebrating under the stars. It was then that it occurred to me that I could go back. Nothing was stopping me from taking the winding path down to the beach and joining my fellow humans to ring in the new year.

“Do you miss them?”

I jumped, and a fizz sizzled down my spine, poofing my tail out behind me. Rylee had slipped beside me, her furry paw resting on the rock next to mine. The first burst of fireworks lit up the night sky, illuminating the white heart of fur around her dark raccoon mask. The beach was full of tiny people celebrating together and making distant, awestruck sounds as the fireworks exploded above us. The smell of their beach fires and the sounds of their merriment wafted up the cliffs toward us.

“I don’t know what you mean.” My pulse spiked, and I forced myself to breathe. Rylee couldn’t possibly know I was human. I must have misheard her.

“I thought you lived in the People Lands. You’re such an accomplished shifter.” Rylee hugged her tail and peered at me. “Don’t you miss it?”

My heart stopped trying to escape my chest. Phoebe had told them I came from the People Lands. She was just interested. And why wouldn’t she be? Every shifter’s goal is to be assigned to the People Lands someday. I opened my mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say. Did I miss home? There were things I missed, sure. But sitting on this cliff overlooking the groups of people below, I couldn’t think of what, specifically, those things were.

“What are we talking about?” Dawn interrupted, squeezing herself onto the overhang and smiling. Her antlers were fully grown now, their majestic tines spread like great hands holding up the star-speckled sky. “View’s pretty good from up here, yeah?”

I smiled and nodded but couldn’t pull my thoughts away from Rylee’s question. This might be my best chance to go back to the human world. I hadn’t considered it before because it hadn’t seemed like a real option. But now…

“Fantastic,” Dawn said, her hooves clattering on the rocky outcropping as the last fireworks faded into a low haze over the water. “People really know how to blow things up.” She laughed and ambled back to the path, ducking into the undergrowth.

“I’m glad you came with us,” Rylee said, smiling at me as she got to her feet. “It’s nice to be with friends.”

She squeezed my paw briefly, then followed Dawn back up the path. The beach was starting to empty, people heading arm-in-arm back to wherever they had come from, and something inside of me shifted. I’d sought out the animal underground for a reason. It might have gotten a little muddled in the struggle to survive once I got here, but that didn’t make it any less important. The magic is dying, even if the people can’t put a name to it most of the time. I came here to find out why and if I can, to help save it.

I took one last look at the people on the beach, nodded, and turned to follow my new friends.

-JPS

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