Chapter Three: Four-Year-Old Flyer
Lance wasn't happy when Uncle swung him up as they entered a big, bright, loud building with lots and lots of people, but he kept that to himself. At the brisk pace Uncle, baby sister, and Wordy set, Lance understood. He couldn't move as fast as the grown-ups and baby sister, so he had to be carried, not that this discovery made him any happier. The little boy looked around at the lights, giggling at all the things he could see: people laughing with each other, other kids his age going in and out of stores with their mommies and daddies, the bright, colorful displays on the walls; it was all new and busy and neat and he wriggled, just a bit, his eyes wide at everything he could see. His magic murmured that he'd been here before, but he didn't remember it, so he kept looking all around, delighting in each new thing and wishing he could look closer at the pretty things in the windows they went by.
When they finally slowed and entered a store, Lance pouted to see that the store was full of clothes…clothes were boring. When the adults reached a section with small clothing, he was let down. "Okay, mio nipote," Uncle remarked, "Let's find a few outfits for you."
Lance looked up at all the bright, colorful shirts, almost all of them with pictures on them, and instantly gravitated to one with a blue train; the train was bright blue and smiling down at him. The little boy had the sense that the train was little, like him, but could do big things. "This one?" he asked.
"How many are we getting, Sarge?" Wordy inquired as he picked out one of the blue train shirts and compared it to Lance. The four-year-old wandered off to look at the other shirts, trailed by his sister.
"I'm thinking three, Wordy," Uncle replied as Lance found another shirt, this one with white doggies that had black spots all over them. There were two big doggies and five puppies playing in front of the big doggies. "Three shirts, three pants, plus a pack of socks and junior briefs."
"Nothing expensive," Wordy remarked.
Lance twisted around in time to see Uncle shake his head. "Just enough to get us through the next few days, Wordy."
The little boy tugged the doggie shirt and asked, "This one?"
"That looks like a good choice," Wordy mused, pulling a doggie shirt off to add to the train shirt. "How 'bout one more, kiddo?"
"I'll get the pants," baby sister offered.
"Copy that," Uncle agreed. "I'll get the socks and junior briefs and Wordy, you stay with Lance."
"Not a problem, Sarge," Wordy said, casting a wide grin at Uncle.
Lance wondered, briefly, why Wordy was calling Uncle 'Sarge', but then his attention was caught by another shirt. The shirt was red, his favorite color, and had a metal lion on it. The lion's eyes glowed yellow and it was mostly red, with silver legs, a white muzzle, and a gray tail. "This one?" he pleaded, tugging on the shirt and wishing he could wear it now.
"Lemme take a look, sport," Wordy chided; Lance let go and backed off at once. Wordy picked up the first shirt and measured it against the two in his hands. "Looks good," was the pronouncement. "Let's take your new shirts up front, okay? Then we can find someplace to eat."
Lance nodded as fast as he could. That was a very good idea; he was hungry.
Wordy let him walk on his own as they went back through the store and found Uncle and baby sister waiting for them. Once Wordy set the shirts down on the table right in front of a lady, he swung Lance up off the ground, so the little boy could see better. Lance immediately waved to the lady behind the table, smiling widely.
The lady smiled right back as she took a card from Uncle and swiped it through a rectangle thing between her and Uncle. "Shopping for the little one?" she asked Uncle.
"Yes," Uncle replied, his eyes crinkling in the way Lance had figured out meant Uncle was pleased, even though he didn't smile.
The lady gave Uncle his card back and put Lance's new shirts in a plastic bag, handing the bag to baby sister. "Thank you," Lance chirped. Mommy and Daddy always said to be polite to shopkeeps.
"You're quite welcome," the lady said, her dark brown eyes twinkling at him.
Baby sister suggested going to the magic side to eat, nervously adding that Lance might accidently let his magic loose at some point. Lance was indignant; he knew how to keep his magic secret! After all, Daddy had trusted him to not show Uncle his magic when they'd first met him, but baby sister's magic had been locked up because she'd been too little to hide her magic.
So it was a pouting four-year-old who was carried through the barrier to the magical side of the mall; Lance was determined to show baby sister that he could keep his magic a secret, no matter where he was, but Uncle and Wordy hadn't given him the chance.
"We should probably head home after this," Wordy remarked over Lance's head. "I think someone's getting tired."
Lance ignored that, too. He was just fine and he wanted to explore. When they reached a small shop that sold food, Lance perked up again at the menu he was given. He couldn't read yet, but that didn't matter, because all he had to do was touch a line and the menu read it to him. Uncle and Wordy jumped the first time the menu talked, but baby sister wasn't surprised.
She just smiled at the grown-ups and said, "Magic, remember? Most kids menus will talk, so the kids can order even if they can't read."
"What about paper menus to draw on?" Wordy asked, his eyes curious.
Baby sister shook her head as Lance looked up, confused. There was nothing here to draw on…at least he didn't think there was. "Magical world still has parchment, Uncle Wordy," baby sister explained, "And quills are too fragile to be used like crayons or even colored pencils. Chalk that up to another thing the magical world is behind on."
Lance returned his attention to the menu, tapping down the list and considering what he wanted. When the server arrived, he waited until Uncle, Wordy, and baby sister ordered, then chirped, "Chicken, please."
The waiter chuckled as he wrote Lance's order down. "We can do that, young sir." He glanced at Uncle. "Anything I should add to that?"
"Carrots," baby sister said at once. "He likes those."
As the waiter left, Uncle hiked a brow. "If your brother likes carrots, why didn't he order them, 'Lanna?"
Baby sister rolled her eyes. "Because," she started, with a upward lilt in her voice, "He's a gryphon Animagus."
Wordy whistled as Uncle's eyes went wide. "Meat eater," Uncle realized. "But you both eat balanced meals…" He trailed off, giving baby sister an expectant look.
With a blush, something Lance watched avidly, baby sister explained, "Right now, Lance is working more on instinct, just like any other little kid does. And, um, even though we were born with Animagus forms, Dad probably locked them down, so they didn't really…um, affect us until they got unlocked two years ago. Phoenixes like to eat fruit – berries are the favorite – so, yeah, I tend to go a bit more for fruit than I used to."
"And gryphons?" Wordy asked, an interested expression on his face.
"Both lions and eagles are meat eaters," Uncle pointed out.
Baby sister nodded agreement. "Yeah, that's right. I don't know if you noticed, but Lance likes his steak rare, has ever since our forms were unlocked, and sometimes I do have to nag him about eating fruits and vegetables, but we're both old enough that, Animagus forms or not, we know we have to eat healthy. A four-year-old, not so much."
"Something else to keep an eye on, then," Uncle decided. "I'm glad you thought of it, mia nipote."
Baby sister winked, but when the food arrived and the grown-ups made Lance eat his carrots, Lance did not agree.
After lunch, Uncle and Wordy suggested heading home, but baby sister shook her head at once. "Alanna," Uncle began patiently, "Your brother is probably getting tired."
Baby sister arched a brow. "Ever seen a bored cat?" she inquired rather pointedly. "It's not pretty, let me tell you that much."
"Does this have something to do with why you borrowed the family computer last night?" Wordy questioned after trading startled looks with Uncle.
"Yeah," baby sister admitted. "Can't exactly look up gryphons, but I did look up cats and usually, when a cat rips up the furniture, it's bored. Add bored part-cat to bored four-year-old and…?"
Lance pouted; he'd been bored lots of times before and he'd never ripped up any furniture! "I'm not bad," he protested.
Baby sister moved so they were eye-to-eye. "I know you're not bad, big brother mine," she replied, "But the last time you were four, Dad had your Animagus form locked down. If you transform, you might do stuff without even thinking about it."
The little boy pouted harder, his magic tingling. Without warning, baby sister tugged him out of Uncle's grip, just as his magic surged, a surprised yelp became a startled chu-rep! as baby sister held him carefully, his wings free and his paws tucked close to her chest. His feathered tail curled up, the tail feathers spreading as he squeaked at her.
"Like that," baby sister remarked, her voice rather dry.
Squ-ah! Illishar protested, adding a little hiss to voice his displeasure.
"He lost control," Wordy realized, eyes wide. "But why?"
Baby sister looked up, her own eyes sad. " 'Cause he's really sixteen," she said simply. "The De-Aging Potion can't make his magic regress, just his body and his memories, so we basically have a four-year-old with a sixteen-year-old's magic. I looked that up last night, too; that Healer should have warned you, but I don't think she believed Auror Onasi when he told her that you guys hadn't done this to Lance." She shifted the gryphlet, freeing his talons so he wouldn't accidently tear her clothing or her hands. "The Suppression Potions are why he didn't transform before Roy and Giles found him, but if that witch had gotten him on the plane, he might have shifted while it was flying."
Rawrrrrrl Illishar growled, his wings flaring wide in displeasure and his talons raking the air; furry ears laid back, flat against his skull in an unmistakable sign of anger.
"Easy, big brother," baby sister soothed, running a gentle hand down his back. "We're going to get through this, all right?" He gave her a chirrup in reply.
"Okay," Wordy mused aloud, "We have a gryphon cub whose going to get bored before too long and I'm guessing he's not going to shift back for a while, so we'll have to sneak him through the mall to my car."
"I have an idea, but I don't think Illishar is going to like it," baby sister replied. She looked around, then moved to a nearby bench, letting the gryphon hatchling in her arms down. "Don't run off, Illishar," she ordered.
Illishar hissed, mantling his wings before stalking away to the other side of the bench in offended dignity. On the opposite side, he sat down and began to preen, though one sapphire eye stayed on the three humans and both furred ears flicked up to listen.
Alanna rolled her eyes and dug through the small backpack she used in lieu of a purse. After a minute of looking, she pulled out a length of leather with odd indentations across the whole piece. "Here we go," she announced, holding the leather up. "It's the prototype for my Ancient Runes project this semester; it allows a wizard to anchor a spell – any long-term spell – on the leather, then you use it like a bracelet. The prototype can only hold spells for a few hours, but it should work long enough for us to get out of here."
"You're going to put a glamour on your brother?" Greg asked the girl, one brow going up.
"Yep," Alanna confirmed. "His Animagus form will look like a cat instead of a gryphon." She looked from the leather to her uncle. "Um, if we go by a pet store, we should probably see if we can get a cat tree or something. That way, Illishar has something to play on and he'll get into less mischief."
"What if he flies in the pet store?" Wordy questioned, watching the gryphlet with a concerned look on his face.
"He won't," Alanna said firmly, her eyes steady on her brother.
Squarrrrr Illishar grumbled, his tail lashing as he looked up from his preening.
The cat glamour hid the wings, the talons, the eagle head, and the tail feathers, but the 'cat' looked remarkably similar to the gryphlet in most other aspects; he was shades of brown and tan, had bright sapphire eyes, and his tail started turning black about two thirds of the way down, going pitch black right at the tip. His muzzle and ears were a very pale tan, close to white, and he had very short whiskers, to disguise the fact that the 'whiskers' were just an illusion.
Wordy led the way into the pet store, trying to keep from getting too tense; if the glamour fell, they'd all be in big trouble, but Alanna didn't look very concerned. Illishar, in his sister's grasp, was unhappy and not afraid to show it: he did not like the 'collar'; he was too small for the leather rune bracelet, so they'd been forced to make it a collar instead. The 'cat' was hissing and twisting and doing his very best to get free from the collar, but, fortunately, wasn't getting anywhere with his efforts. Greg looked more amused than concerned; his faith in his niece meant he wasn't worried about the glamour failing at an inopportune time.
In the interests of getting the shopping done, Wordy made a beeline for the cat section and the cat trees on display. A perky shop clerk spied the three potential customers and descended, beaming at them and the 'cat' in Alanna's arms. "Can I help you?" he asked eagerly, his eyes mostly on Alanna and her 'cat'.
Alanna smiled back politely, letting Illishar down. "We're just looking at the cat trees," she explained, gesturing at Illishar, who'd abandoned his efforts to squirm out of his collar and was sniffing curiously at the cat trees, ears pricked. "I think we'll be okay, thanks."
"Well, I have a few cats myself," the clerk confided. "And they just love the cat trees we have here. Let me show you…" He shifted to reach for Illishar and Alanna casually moved to block him.
"Illishar doesn't like to be picked up by strangers," she informed the clerk in her best 'my cat is my baby and you aren't going to touch him' voice. Looking down at Illishar, she added, "Go ahead, Illishar, find one you like."
A cat-bird grumble drifted up as Illishar went back to sniffing at the cat trees, before picking a tan and navy blue tree to scramble up; he reached the top in seconds and crouched, the fur on his back fluffing in a way that Wordy suspected meant Illishar had his wings spread. When he jumped, Alanna caught him and drew him in, scolding, "Illishar, don't jump off the top; you might get hurt!" Glancing back, Alanna gave Wordy and Sarge a grimace that meant they'd best wrap this trip up as quickly as they could.
"He liked that one, you think?" Wordy questioned.
Alanna nodded, her grip on Illishar tight to keep him from trying to fly again.
"Okay," Sarge told the clerk, "We'll take the navy blue with the three levels and a platform."
The clerk's expression was puzzled, but when Sarge gave him a 'hurry up' look, he nodded and hurried away to get their purchase.
Illishar grumbled from his sister's arms and Alanna gave him a Look. "Don't give me that, Illishar," she scolded. "You're the one who jumped off the cat tower, right in front of that clerk. If you wanted a different cat tree, you should've behaved."
The unhappy gryphon hatchling just hissed again, returning his attention to squirming out of his collar.
"And leave that alone," Alanna added sternly. "It's the only way you can be in here right now."
Judging by the immediate yowl, Illishar was not impressed.