knows how it works. I mean, one Changer can teach another how to use a token to communicate with their animal spirits, and how to shift. But we Changers might have just as many questions as you Typs do when it comes to the specifics.”
“Let’s start with the basics, then. Where does your human body go when you…?” He made a vague gesture, his hands fluttering off into the air.
Ellery shrugged. “That’s one of the great mysteries. Roanhorse certainly had his opinions on the subject. He taught me that different worlds touch—that the world we see right now, the one we live in day-to-day, is like a room in an Anglo-style house. There are other rooms beyond its walls, and our world—our room—shares walls with the worlds beside it. He told me that when I shift, it’s like stepping through a door into an adjoining room, and bringing my animal through the door at the same time, to take my place in this world.
“Roanhorse told me, ‘That’s why we’re called traders; because we trade places with our animal spirits.’ We go to where the dead animals now live, and they come to this world, where they used to exist. We just… swap places for a while. That’s the best way I know how to explain it.”
Hosteen said nothing. He rubbed his chin with one finger, his eyes distant and thoughtful as he processed what Ellery had said.
After a moment, she added, “I don’t know how accurate Roanhorse’s theory is. I’ve heard other explanations from other Changers, and they make just as much sense as anything else. I only know that when I work with my animal spirits, I’m focused on what they’re seeing and feeling, what they’re sensing in this world. I have no real awareness of wherever I am when we trade.”
Hosteen’s eyes came back into focus. He watched Ellery in silence, and his shoulders and chest seemed tense. Ellery could tell that such frank discussion of magic made him anxious, but to his credit, he remained open-minded, listening attentively, just as he had promised.
At length, Hosteen said, “I suppose that does explain why your clothes—and other things, like your phone, your knife—vanish along with your body when you shift.”
“Right,” Ellery said. “‘Shapeshifter’ isn’t really an accurate term—not for us, anyway, the traders. Weres might be a different story; werewolves and were-bears and were-bunnies might actually transform their physical shape, for all I know. You’d have to ask a were about that. But traders don’t change. If Roanhorse was right, then we simply step through the doors between worlds.”
Hosteen shook his head slowly. “Fascinating. Is the ability genetic, then? Inherited?”
“No one has ever been able to find a clear example of inherited magical abilities, but some families do seem to have an affinity for magic, with more Paras than average. My sister and I might be an example of that affinity. But Taylor and I weren’t aware of any other Paras in our extended family. Who can say where the ability comes from? As far as anyone can tell, it’s a roll of the dice.”
Again Ellery fidgeted with her bracelet. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, uncertain what else she ought to say—if anything. Maybe she had told this Typical man far too much already.
Hosteen was quick to pick up on her discomfiture. “Is there more you want to say?”
Damn it . Ellery was never very good at hiding her thoughts. I really need to work on that .
“Up until recently—very recently,” she said, “we all took it for granted that Paras stuck to their own thing.”
Hosteen’s brow furrowed in a deep frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… Changers can’t use spells the way Casters can. Casters don’t have the natural enchantments that fae and vampires have. Chanters can’t shape-shift, or trade places with animal spirits. That’s what I mean.”
Hosteen seemed to sense that a disturbing revelation was coming. He leaned back in his chair and said
“Let’s start with the basics, then. Where does your human body go when you…?” He made a vague gesture, his hands fluttering off into the air.
Ellery shrugged. “That’s one of the great mysteries. Roanhorse certainly had his opinions on the subject. He taught me that different worlds touch—that the world we see right now, the one we live in day-to-day, is like a room in an Anglo-style house. There are other rooms beyond its walls, and our world—our room—shares walls with the worlds beside it. He told me that when I shift, it’s like stepping through a door into an adjoining room, and bringing my animal through the door at the same time, to take my place in this world.
“Roanhorse told me, ‘That’s why we’re called traders; because we trade places with our animal spirits.’ We go to where the dead animals now live, and they come to this world, where they used to exist. We just… swap places for a while. That’s the best way I know how to explain it.”
Hosteen said nothing. He rubbed his chin with one finger, his eyes distant and thoughtful as he processed what Ellery had said.
After a moment, she added, “I don’t know how accurate Roanhorse’s theory is. I’ve heard other explanations from other Changers, and they make just as much sense as anything else. I only know that when I work with my animal spirits, I’m focused on what they’re seeing and feeling, what they’re sensing in this world. I have no real awareness of wherever I am when we trade.”
Hosteen’s eyes came back into focus. He watched Ellery in silence, and his shoulders and chest seemed tense. Ellery could tell that such frank discussion of magic made him anxious, but to his credit, he remained open-minded, listening attentively, just as he had promised.
At length, Hosteen said, “I suppose that does explain why your clothes—and other things, like your phone, your knife—vanish along with your body when you shift.”
“Right,” Ellery said. “‘Shapeshifter’ isn’t really an accurate term—not for us, anyway, the traders. Weres might be a different story; werewolves and were-bears and were-bunnies might actually transform their physical shape, for all I know. You’d have to ask a were about that. But traders don’t change. If Roanhorse was right, then we simply step through the doors between worlds.”
Hosteen shook his head slowly. “Fascinating. Is the ability genetic, then? Inherited?”
“No one has ever been able to find a clear example of inherited magical abilities, but some families do seem to have an affinity for magic, with more Paras than average. My sister and I might be an example of that affinity. But Taylor and I weren’t aware of any other Paras in our extended family. Who can say where the ability comes from? As far as anyone can tell, it’s a roll of the dice.”
Again Ellery fidgeted with her bracelet. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, uncertain what else she ought to say—if anything. Maybe she had told this Typical man far too much already.
Hosteen was quick to pick up on her discomfiture. “Is there more you want to say?”
Damn it . Ellery was never very good at hiding her thoughts. I really need to work on that .
“Up until recently—very recently,” she said, “we all took it for granted that Paras stuck to their own thing.”
Hosteen’s brow furrowed in a deep frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… Changers can’t use spells the way Casters can. Casters don’t have the natural enchantments that fae and vampires have. Chanters can’t shape-shift, or trade places with animal spirits. That’s what I mean.”
Hosteen seemed to sense that a disturbing revelation was coming. He leaned back in his chair and said
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