I stared down at the desk, my eyes slowly moving across my notepad. None of my notes felt like they mattered anymore. Lucas and Aurora had just been talking to me. I had been face-to-face with both of them at once. Did that mean they were not actually gone? How was that even possible? The only thing I knew for sure was that doing it had cost me a ton of energy, but it had been worth it.
To check my reserves, I went through the motions of creating an ice sword but stopped before completing the spell. The well of writhing force inside me felt much weaker than I expected; it was even more diminished than it had been after my brief encounter with the shades yesterday. I could tell that my energy was returning, but it was doing so at a glacial rate. A quick perusal of Aurora's memories informed me that my arcane reserves would refill significantly faster while sleeping. Well, that would explain why Chris had immediately passed out after exhausting his magic. It also made me worry about what would happen to me if I pushed myself too hard. While the spell that had summoned vestiges of my past was active, a strange sensation of heat had nearly overwhelmed me. Chris had mentioned experiencing something similar during his cast. Maybe that was just what expending arcane energy felt like?
Aurora's memories were thankfully still accessible to me, despite everything. Whatever I had spoken with earlier had been quite adept at churning that pile of experiences into something meaningful. For me that kind of thing took a serious mental investment. Could that have been what the spell was doing? Had I used magic to speed up my brain somehow? It was definitely worth looking into, but first I needed to make sure the rest of my mind was intact. I curiously poked at Lucas's memories and plucked out a somewhat recent one from earlier in the year when Sarah had dragged Chris, Dan and me all to the movie theater to watch the newest installment in a horror film series, probably Screech Two, or maybe Three. I do not remember it being anything to write home about, but it had still been fun to watch with my friends and make fun of it afterward.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Even after whatever I had done, it was all there. Part of me had worried that awakening Aurora and Lucas would seal their memories from me. And I could still remember the last eight days of my life. Upon review, those eight days stood out extremely clearly as something distinct from both Lucas's past and Aurora's past. That meant I was still me. My heart rate finally started to slow as I felt a profound sense of peace settle over me. Laura, this version of me, would endure. But I still had work to do. Now, what had Aurora said those monsters were called again?
Skin Stitchers.
Immediately, I pushed into Aurora's vaults looking for information. Since I knew what I was looking for, the search felt much easier and I stumbled upon a vague memory of someone or something describing how to destroy these things. Fire was effective and their joints were weak, but otherwise their bodies had thick carapaces. Dan's magical weapons and my blades of ice would be best targeted at these gaps in their natural armor. The memory shifted to a later point in time and became much more vivid. I could see Aurora assisting one of her bonded by blasting a shower of sharpened ice in a wide arc of frosty death at a group of human sized sipders.
"She fought these before." I whispered.
Could I use that same technique as well? Unfortunately, I had no idea where to even start on casting such a spell. Trialing new spells while I was already drained from fooling around with magic seemed like a terrible idea. At least this entire absurd experience would make a great logbook entry. When I finished updating my notes, I pakced up my stuff and put my library books onto a cart that a college employee was using to refill the stacks.
Before leaving, I aimlessly wandered the aisles for a few minutes, but my meandering was interrupted when a section labeled LGBTQ+ caught my attention. The shelves were all sorted by author's name and many had colorful spines. I scanned the titles and picked out one that seemed relevant to me: She's Not There: A Life in Two Genders by Jennifer Boylan.
Sitting back down at a reading desk, I rapidly read through part one, which was a series of vignettes. Early on, I discovered that transgender people referred to the process of switching their social presentation as transitioning. This seemed like a rather important term for me to know considering I had just done that myself a week ago. I hoped this memoir would help me fill in some more of these knowledge gaps. It was strange to me that the author kept using transgender like it was a verb instead of an adjective, but I figured it was just a strange, stylistic editing choice. Perhaps there were a few other terms that the work also used incorrectly. I resolved to ask Elizabeth to look over my primitive trans lexicon after I finished it.
The first story detailed the author accidentally reuniting with someone who failed to recognize her several years after her transition. It was a novel and amusing concept to me considering the entire school was used to my new presentation and name by now. Margaret said the rumor mill had gotten most of the other students up to date on my new situation, for better or worse. The strange sexual encounters the author described in another vignette were rather unpleasant and off-putting to me, but I pressed onward, compelled to continue by the well-written prose.
The second to last vignette in part one mentioned a medication: estrogen. That must have been part of the conventional body transformation method Elizabeth had mentioned. Except she had talked about least two or three different kinds of pills, and this story only mentioned one. I shook my head in confusion. I had already completed my metamorphosis, so I did not technically need the specifics, but what if another trans person asked me to walk them through it? Of course I could always just refer them to a doctor instead. Considering the matter mostly resolved I read on.
Jennifer had been born in the late fifties and after skipping about a hundred pages deeper into the book I learned that she had transitioned much later in life than me. Part three opened with a photograph of two college faculty identification cards, one depicting the author at the start of her transition and the other two years later. The difference was profound, almost magical. If Elizabeth had not already personally demonstrated the efficacy of mundane medical transition, I would have been certain that the author had been transformed the same way I had.
This section also contained Jennifer's announcement letter to her workplace that she was transitioning and that she had been doing so for some time. In it she explained that she was not joking, that changing her body in this manner was supported by doctors as well as the latest medical guidance, and that she wanted everyone to understand the importance of her decision. Her letter specifically mentioned 'a regimen of estrogen and anti-androgen therapy that had rendered her appearance and body more feminine' during her sabbatical. She also recommended True Selves by Chloe Rounsley and Mildred Brown to any of her co-workers who wanted to learn more. I carefully recorded that title on a fresh notebook page.
I read on until I reached an extended email exchange between the author and one of her close friends who was having a small breakdown over her changes. He felt like he had lost a male friend that he was comfortable around and gained a female one that he had never asked for. His final email was absolutely infuriating, even if he had clearly not meant it to be. In it he waxed poetic about how her actions seemed to be poorly written and out of character compared to a fictional person he had spun up in his own mind. It seemed like he was implying that Jennifer should have outwardly shown that she was more miserable or told him that she wanted a change much earlier, before taking any steps closer to her true self.
I nearly threw the book across the room.
The only thing that stopped me was my reluctance to damage library property. How dare he? Why did she have to tell everyone about her deepest needs the moment she realized that she had them? That sounded insane to me. She would have met with the same reception I had on Monday, but worse. At least on Monday I was presenting as a woman while looking like a woman thanks to my magical transformation. It had taken Jennifer two years to transition and a third year for surgeries, but for me the whole process had been neatly wrapped up in a single afternoon. As I sat there slowly ruminating over what I had read so far and reviewing my experiences during the last few days, I suddenly understood just how lucky I was.
Part of me felt I could never tell Elizabeth about any of this, but an urge to come clean to her also tore at my soul. My internal conflict filled my brain with static. It hurt in such a strange, new way.
After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, I flipped through the remainder of the memoir and saw that Jennifer's formerly insensitive friend was also the author of the afterword. They must have made up. Resolving to read through the entire thing properly, I checked it out at the front desk. Now I had finished everything that I set out to accomplish at the library. I had answers about the silk eggs we found in the clearing by Thread Creek, some information about trans people, and a larger understanding of what transitioning conventionally was like. After making sure I was not forgetting anything, I began the bike ride home.
-*-
As soon as I rolled by bike into the garage, I knew the house was empty. I did not fancy another evening alone with my thoughts, so I surveilled my options. It was still an hour or two before I normally ate dinner, so I decided my top priority would be studying for the looming history test next week. Chris's house was sort of a central location for the four of us which worked out well for our meetups. It also had the best television and seating, which we often used extensively after we got bored of studying. I headed over to the kitchen phone, quickly dialed Chris's number, and waited for him to pick up. After two short rings Chris answered.
"Eggplant residence."
"Hi Chris, are you up for another marathon-length history study session today?" I said cheerfully.
"Sure! Should I call the others?"
"Nah, I will take care of it myself. Going to ride over as soon as I call Sarah."
"See you soon, then. Bye."
"Goodbye," I said before tapping my finger on the switch hook to hang up the call. As the dial tone began, I punched in Sarah's number. She picked up after five long rings.
"Hello?"
"Sarah, I am planning to hit the books with Chris today at his place. I have still got a lot of history left to cover. Want to join us?"
"Sure, I'd be glad to."
"I was going to head over now. See you there soon?"
"Yeah, I'll be right over after I finish laundry. Shouldn't be long. Is Dan invited?"
"Why bother? He clearly wants nothing to do with me. Especially after he stopped showing up at lunch."
"Laura, look. I know Dan's an asshole and I'm sorry for the way he's been treating you, but he is still our friend. We should at least give him a chance to change his mind."
"Well, fine. Invite him if you must, but you will be the one explaining what happened to the doctors if I have to freeze his mouth shut. Or worse. I am heading out now. Bye."
"Lau—" Sarah's voice buzzed from the receiver as I gently set it down. She knew I did not want to talk to Dan. And he undoubtedly felt the same way about me. I had no idea why she was even bothering to push us back together.
I threw my backpack onto my shoulders, left a note for my dad on the fridge, and swung a leg over my bike's saddle.
-*-
About half an hour later, I pulled into Chris's driveway and flipped down my kickstand on the pad in front of his Volvo. The door to the two-car garage where I usually stashed my bike was closed so I pressed the doorbell and waited for Chris to let me in. After a few minutes I was still waiting, so I turned towards the living room window. Despite the bright afternoon sunlight, I spotted dim colors flashin through the curtain. I let out the breath that I had been unconsciously holding. Chris must be watching TV with the volume turned up. I rang the doorbell a few more times in quick succession to try and make myself heard over his show. Evidently it was still not loud enough, because he still had not come to the door when I heard the familiar noises of Sarah approaching quickly on her bike.
"Hey, Sarah," I called out to her with a wave.
She cruised right up the driveway, turned onto the small path leading to the front door, stopped just a few feet away, and said, "Dan's coming too, just so you know."
"Oh, cool. You must have found out about the hole in my heart that can only be filled by a handsome football player who hates my guts," I mumbled sarcastically before turning back to the door. "Chris is not answering, but I know he is here." I motioned to his car which was still on the driveway.
"You rang the doorbell, right?" Sarah asked.
"Yup. A half-dozen times at least."
"I guess we just have to wait then. He might be in the bathroom," Sarah said with a shrug.
I was not looking forward to Dan showing up. I took out my frustration on the doorbell and pushed the button so hard that my fingertip stung.
"Did you call ahead?" Sarah said with a smirk.
"Yeah, we worked things out before I called you," I said as I glanced again at the drawn curtains in the living room.
I was starting to get worried. I tried the doorbell a few more times.
"He said he was looking forward to another study session," Sarah said. A pause. "Dan, I mean. He said the invitation reminded him of how things used to be."
Backing away from the door, I sat down on the edge of the porch, looked down the road where Dan would be approaching from, and said, "Sarah, I do not think Dan's idea of how things used to be will ever happen again."
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked as she sat down next to me.
"I am not the same person anymore and Dan knows it."
"Laura, that's not true. Change is normal."
"How much change?" I said, curling in on myself and holding my face in my hands.
"None of us are exactly the same as we were in middle school. We're all changing slowly, day by day. Your transformation just tossed you a couple years ahead of the curve," Sarah said and placed a hand gently on my back.
"I found a book at the library. A trans woman's memoir, published recently," I mumbled, resisting the urge to shy away from Sarah's touch. "She wrote that she knew she was a girl at three years old. Lucas had no such revelation. Hell, as far as I can tell, Lucas was never trans at all. He hated this body, Sarah. He hated it enough that he ripped himself in half trying to fix it. And now here I am, some kind of patchwork consciousness named Laura; here to take his place forever." The tears were flowing freely now. "I stole his life."
"Laura, I know you've been through a lot. And I literally cannot imagine what any of that has been like," she took a deep breath and squeezed my shoulder. "But you need to listen to me. You're still the same person. It's been over a week. You're still you. I can tell. You're still the person who chose to stand and fight monsters to protect your friends. You still want our group to stick together and support each other. Your first thought when you found a magic spell book was to share it with the rest of us. And you still love your dad; I can tell by how much you light up when you talk about him. There are some differences, sure. You clearly know how to handle yourself in a fight way better than before and can use magic so easily now. But that makes sense, you basically got years of experience jammed into your head overnight. That doesn't matter. You're still my friend."
I leaned into Sarah's shoulder and let myself cry. I did not hold back.
I have no idea how long it took me to calm down, but eventually I found myself dry eyed and able to take shuddering breaths without sniffling.
"Laura, just so you know, Dan's gonna be here soon. I just spotted him at the end of the street," Sarah said quietly.
"Thanks for the warning," I muttered, wiping my face on my sleeve. I stood up uneasily and hit the doorbell again. After a beat I turned to Sarah and said, "How long has it been?"
"A few minutes at least, he should have answered by now," Sarah was starting to look nervous and her eyes bounced between Chris's living room window and his front door.
"Hey Sarah. And uh... hey Laura," Dan said as he propped his bike up next to mine.
"Before you ask, I have already hit the bell. I have hit it many times; Chris is not answering," I said as evenly as I could.
"How long have you been here?" Dan asked.
"Laura got here first, but I've been here at least five or six minutes," Sarah said.
Dan gave me a careful look, and then frowned before saying, "I know where the Eggplants keep an extra key." He began walking towards the garage, paused, and continued, "Shit, I have a bad feeling about this. Chromos, wake up." For a moment he shivered with disgust before turning back to us. "Sarah, wake Corona, and Laura, get ready. Also, try to be as quiet as you can."
I reflexively pulled on my magic as I had earlier that day. My levels were still pretty low, but they would have to be enough. I definitely would not be sleeping to fill it back up anytime soon. Then another thought occurred to me. "Dan, I have probably pressed that doorbell at least a hundred times since I got here. If there is something in there waiting for us, it already knows we are coming."
Dan stopped walking and waited for me to approach and said quietly, "Are you okay? Can you fight? You look like you've been crying."
"Yes. It will not be a problem. Why do you care? Do you think I should be crying more?" I nearly spat.
"Laura, stop. I'm serious right now. This isn't about us. We need to help Chris," Dan growled.
"Of course we do. And I am ready," I said, holding back as much venom as I could.
He squinted, looked closely at my face, and then backed away. "Okay," he said.
Dan quickly led us down the path alongside the garage to the back of the house. He paused at each window and carefully peered in, but most of the curtains or blinds were drawn. As we entered the backyard, Dan crouched, picked up a rock with a very peculiar shape, and retrieved a key from its bottom. I let Sarah go ahead of me as I peeked into one of the back windows. The room was dark. If any interior lights were on other than the living room television they were not visible from here. Otherwise, everything appeared normal.
Dan approached the back door, inserted the key, but it refused to turn. As he leaned on the door to get more leverage, it suddenly swung open. Dan stumbled and barely stifled a shout, then he partially closed the door and stuck his head through. When he turned back to us I could immediately tell that he had grown even more worried. After one more glance down the hall, he entered the house, waving for the rest of us to follow. As I approached, I was assailed by a strong copper scent. The smell did not have a clear source but it grew stronger when I stood in the middle of the doorway, if you could even call it that anymore. The door no longer sat squarely in its frame and there was a large crack in it near the handle. The jamb and strike plate had both been separated from the wall and were only supported by a fragment of wood that was precariously dangling from a nail. The deadbolt had snapped off. Distantly, I could hear an advertisement planning on the television in the living room.
I pulled on the arcane energies within me even tighter, nearly enough to form an ice blade, but not quite. A small amount of effort would push it over the brink as soon as I needed it. I carefully crept down the hall after Dan and Sarah; they both had guardian spirits, so it made the most sense for them to go first. I checked each doorway that we passed on our way to the living room. With growing dread, I noticed a few scuff marks at hip level on one of the walls that could have been made by a shoe. As Dan rounded the corner into the living room I could feel the tension of sudden arcane energy snap as he summoned his sword. Immediately, I let my own spell complete, and my fist grasped my blade's frozen hilt. I took the turn as widely as I could to give Dan and Sarah some space, and as I did, my eyes darted around the room.
A piece of cardboard with an unfamiliar pattern drawn on it sat on the center table and the large wooden compass that Chris had filched lay atop it. The couch opposite the television had been knocked onto its back and its cushions were strewn across the room. A box of candles and matches were on the floor near the table, but both were still wrapped in plastic, unopened. Otherwise, the room looked completely normal and undisturbed. Dan reached down, picked up the remote, and muted the television.
"Those things, the shades or whatever unholy creature left all that silk, could still be here," Dan said quietly.
"How do you know—" Sarah began.
"What else could it be? Super-powered burglars? Why would they leave the brand-new HDTV behind?" Dan cut her off. "Let's check the rest of the house. Don't touch anything."
The three of us carefully combed through each room and hallway. Nothing else seemed out of place or even disturbed other than the living room and the back door. When Dan was finally satisfied, we returned outside and searched the backyard.
"Whatever happened, they must have moved fast," Dan said as he let his weapon dissipate.
"Should we go back to the river? That must be where they took him. It's not like we've seen shades anywhere else around town," Sarah said.
"Would it help if we called the police?" I said uneasily. Part of me screamed that involving the conventional authorities in this would only slow us down. Aurora's years of dealing with supernatural threats told me we had to go track down the one lead we had and not waste any time. And yet, if we just left the house now and someone saw us, then we would be the prime suspects.
"Such interlopers will be of no use to us. It should not even be a thing we discuss," Corona said bitterly.
"I agree. If we retrieve your friend from these fiends, then there will be no need to involve others," Chromos growled.
"Sarah, Dan, I need to hear it from you, not your guardians," I said as I stabbed my ice blade into the grass near the path to the back door. A small circle of grass around the blade instantly froze, but I was long past caring about the well-being of a few plants at this point.
"I vote that we take Chris's Volvo to the river, where we saw all those shades, and start our search there. That's where that army of shades was; whoever's responsible for all this is probably based somewhere near there," Dan said looking in the direction of the river.
"This also means they know where we live and aren't afraid to attack us in our homes. We need to take care of this immediately," Sarah said.
I looked back and forth between the two of them. They were dead set on this path.
After my initial hesitation waned, it was clear to me that this was the only way forward. We were Chris's best chance.
"Okay. I am in," I said with as much confidence as I could muster.
Dan quickly darted back into the house and emerged a few moments later holding up a car key.
"We're good to go," he said with a look of determination.
The three of us hid our bikes along the side of the house, then piled into the Volvo. Dan took the driver's seat, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and carefully steered us into the street.
"Last chance to back out," he said evenly.
Sarah and I were silent.
Dan pressed the accelerator and the car lurched forward.