On the mental plane Nikos felt a query from Joey, and thought back, Come.
Out loud, he said, “We can stay here, or go back to Mikhail’s, where there’s more room. You can practice getting used to this form before we shift again, which I expect will happen when the sun comes up.”
Jen looked around the room distrustfully, then down at the mess.
“Shall I pick that up?’ Nikos asked.
Please stay with me, was her immediate response. Everything is a little too weird right now.
“Sure,” he said. “That’s to be expected. Take it as slow as you need. If it helps, let your phoenix free when you try to move. She’s very new, but animals’ instincts bring them up to speed much faster than we humans. I’m sure you’ve seen how quickly foals go from birth to running about. Your phoenix’s instincts will help you both integrate, even though you’re forced into an arbitrary shift for now, same as I.”
The sound of a car in the driveway brought Nikos to his feet. “Joey’s here. I’ll have him pull up to the kitchen door, shall I? I don’t think you’re ready to try going invisible.”
Jen’s trembling increased as she thought, I can go invisible? How?
“It will come.” Nikos went through to the kitchen door, and beckoned Joey—who was driving Doris’s sensible car, not his tiny sports model—up against the house. Then three car doors opened, and Joey plus the girls exited. They followed Nikos inside.
When the girls saw Jen, their obvious delight eased the last of Jen’s panic. She was no longer shivering. Cleo cooed over how gorgeous Jen was—a real phoenix! And together they coaxed Jen down from the table. She hopped awkwardly past the couch to the kitchen, her tail feathers dragging. She headed for the kitchen door at the side of the house, as behind them, Nikos quickly straightened up as best he could.
With an air of Spy vs. Spy, Petra peered ahead to make certain there were no neighbors out and about on the quiet little street, as Cleo led Jen to the open car door. She hopped inside the back seat, the girls settling either side of her, careful of Jen’s long tail feathers.
Nikos locked the kitchen door before pulling it shut, then climbed into the car for the short drive to Mikhail and Bird’s.
When they reached the house, they discovered that someone had hung lanterns all over the terrace, casting a cheery golden glow. Nikos watched anxiously as Jen’s head turned in quick, tiny jerks, taking it all in. He rested a hand gently on her back, between her wings. All right?
Getting there, she responded bravely. He could feel her fear and disorientation fading. I’m going to try moving around.
He backed away to give her space.
Jen hopped up onto a low table, walking stiffly back and forth as she looked down at her eagle’s claws. The girls crowded protectively around her, as the adults stayed back.
Cleo looked puzzled, but Petra seemed to intuit the problem. Nikos waited while Petra said softly to Jen, “Don’t try to tell your body what to do the way a human would. We all had to learn to let our animal walk the way they do. And nobody flies right away. But your wings are grown up. I think you will learn fast.”
Cleo said, “That’s right! You just need plenty of space. I had to learn by going from rooftop to rooftop. Oh, the vases and clothes lines I knocked over, before I figured things out!”
At that, Jen stretched out her wings experimentally.
Doris exclaimed, “Wow, Jen. If you’re going to turn into a creature, you’ve picked one of the cooler ones.”
Jen’s head cocked, one eye then the other turning toward her. She opened her beak and let out a shrill fall of notes like silver tapping on crystal. She was laughing.
Bird clasped her hands. “What do phoenixes eat? Is she hungry?”
Jen turned her head toward Nikos, who came to her, then reported her thought, “She says she’s still full from that great lunch. And thanks.” He didn’t mention the thought that she hadn’t been able to suppress, that she didn’t want to find herself going after bugs and slugs.
He sent the comforting reminder that at dawn she could tuck into a good, human breakfast. She gave another crystalline laugh and lifted her wings, and he stepped back again.
Her wings tried an experimental flap.
She lifted into the air. Her sapphire eyes widened with momentary panic, and she dropped down abruptly, wings splayed out. But immediately she lifted them again, and this time Nikos felt her consciously letting her phoenix ascend. Her splendid wings beat the air and she rose upward, flapping frantically as she headed out into the grassy space of the garden, away from the house and the terrace furniture.
And then—he felt it viscerally, an uplift in body and spirit—she figured out how to glide.
She soared over the treetops, widespread wings graceful and easy. One dropped and she banked, circling slowly around. She sailed in toward the terrace . . .
Aaaaand then she discovered what all winged shifters had to: that human furniture was not optimal for shaky landings. She landed, wings flapping—which kept her velocity—as bamboo chairs and small tables went tumbling and rolling. She let out a squawk, then came to rest. The crystal notes trilled. She was laughing again.
The gi