Foxheart by Claire Legrand Page B

gold and feathery? Long and sleek?” He paused, glanced sidelong at Quicksilver. “Maybe with white feathers in my tail?”
    At his words, Quicksilver imagined such a bird. She imagined Fox’s lanky dog body transforming into a smaller, feathered creature, soaring through the rafters overhead. . . .
    â€œWhat in the name of the stars?” Sly Boots sat up, fully awake.
    Quicksilver blinked. A bizarre creature half hopped, half flew across the dining room tables—gold feathered and gold furred. It had a wing on one side, and two pawed legs on the other. When it opened its mouth, its tiny beak was crammed full of canine fangs. It tried to fly and crashed into the breakfasting family’s plate of hot rolls.
    A hand grabbed Quicksilver’s shoulder.
    â€œThink of Fox,” Anastazia instructed. “Think of him as you know him—a dog, and a dog alone.”
    An image of Fox flashed into Quicksilver’s flustered mind. Something tugged on her heart, yanking her toward Fox, and she gasped. She needed to be near him, more than she had ever needed anything in her life. She ran to him, her pack swinging from her shoulders. With a flash of golden light, the bird-dog thing clambering across the tables became fully a dog, and slid right into the feet of the witch with the green bird on his shoulder.
    Fox raised his head, woozy, and barked. Quicksilver fell to her knees beside him and scooped him into her arms.
    Sly Boots hurried over. “Are you all right? What happened?”
    Quicksilver did not know how to answer him. She felt as if she had stepped into an outlandish dream. All she knew was that she had needed to be near Fox, and now she was, and whatever had happened didn’t matter much in the face of that. She buried her face between his ears and was relieved to discover that he still smelled of dog.
    â€œOur apologies,” Anastazia muttered to the witch with the green bird, not quite looking at him. “She just got her monster. A bit rough around the edges.”
    The witch man grimaced, avoiding Anastazia’s gaze just as determinedly as she was avoiding his. “Not to worry. First few days are always tricky.” Then he turned away, the air around him vibrating with animosity.
    The witch’s monster, in a soft thrum of emerald light, circled around Fox’s head, squawking angrily, before popping back to the witch’s shoulder with a second puff of light.
    â€œDo it again, do it again!” shrieked the two children a few tables over.
    â€œSo sorry to burst into your morning like this,” Anastazia called to the entire establishment.
    The woman in the purple braids grinned. “I’ve seen much worse. Why, this one time, this witch from Belrike came in with her son, and—”
    â€œWhat a wonderful story,” said Anastazia, ushering Quicksilver and Sly Boots out of the inn and onto the street. Fox hopped along beside them, shaking out his paws. Quicksilver slammed her eyes shut as they stepped outside, but dared to open them again after a couple of moments, and found that the brightness of this long-ago world was no longer painful.
    â€œOf all the careless, reckless things to do,” Anastazia spat. “What were you thinking?”
    Quicksilver frowned. “What do you mean, what was I thinking? Fox was the one who—”
    â€œFox can’t do anything on his own. Without you directing him, he’s simply raw magic. Shapeless and stupid.”
    â€œExcuse me,” Fox interrupted, coughing out a tiny yellow feather, “but I am certainly not —”
    â€œStupid, yes. You looked ridiculous, flapping about like some newborn half-thing.”
    â€œBut Fox was the one who started talking about being a bird,” Quicksilver cried. “He told me to imagine it, and I did, and then I don’t know what happened, but all I did was think, I promise!”
    â€œ All you did?” Sighing, Anastazia looked