Chapter Text
Eddie Diaz had spent the last three hours looking for inspiration and had found only pigeons.
This was disappointing because pigeons were not magical in any useful ways. Sure, they were good at delivering messages, and the ones near the academy could talk, but they were dull. Even the talking ones. Especially the talking ones.
Also, one could not submit a pigeon as a senior thesis.
Well, one could. The Academy technically encouraged creativity. However, Professor O'Malley had recently clarified that "making a pigeon nontalking again does not constitute original magical research, Mr. Diaz."
Eddie still thought he’d done a great service to the world, but the professors didn’t agree.
He sighed and continued down the sidewalk.
The city bustled around him. Nonmagical humans hurried between offices and cafés, not paying much attention to the two witches who were trying to fix their broken broom. Humans had become remarkably good at ignoring magic. They were aware that it existed but had accepted that it barely influenced their lives now.
Elves had always had a small population. Compared to the rapidly growing human population, they were now more like a small tribe. They mostly lived in enchanted forests and distant, not easily reached parts of nature anyway. Some of them mingled with humans, but not too many.
Dragons mostly minded their own business. There weren’t many of those left in this realm. They preferred the fairy world now. Apparently, the magic there made them stronger. Some still lived on mountaintops, in deep caves, or in rainforests.
There were trolls, goblins, and even hags. And of course, there was a relatively small population of wizards, who were just humans with magic. But they all had to learn to live with humans and not cause too much trouble because just the sheer number of humans was enough to threaten every magical creature.
Some trouble was inevitable. One could see headlines that read: “Dragon, accused of greed, eats the corrupt mayor.”
“Cave Troll gets on the subway. Breaks three seats.”
“Hag accused of making deals that actually have consequences.”
So, magic had not disappeared from the world. It had merely become background noise.
Eddie adjusted the strap of his satchel and tried not to think about graduation. His final year project loomed over him like an unpaid debt. The Academy expected every graduating wizard to demonstrate some extraordinary talent or innovation.
Some students invented new spells. Some created magical artifacts. One particularly irritating classmate was apparently breeding miniature phoenixes that fit inside teacups. Eddie truly did not understand the use of that spell. But the professors had happily accepted that thesis. Apparently eliciting "aww," "cute," and "oh my god, look at that one" was enough to earn a degree.
Eddie hated that guy because the phoenixes were adorable.
Meanwhile, Eddie had nothing.
He was twenty-five years old, lived in a tower full of students who were one spell away from exploding whatever room they were currently in, and spent most evenings missing his son.
Chris lived with Abuela during the school year. Eddie visited whenever he could, but there was a significant difference between seeing your child often and actually living with him. Every goodbye felt a little like somebody had reached into his chest and stolen something important.
This was probably why he was becoming increasingly desperate. Desperate people made poor decisions. Eddie had already made several.
The nontalking pigeon had been one of them. Eddie did have some good ideas for spells. That was not the issue. The problem was all those spells required rare items and as a senior year student, he didn’t have access to those. They also weren’t supposed to get any outside help.
A siren wailed somewhere ahead. Eddie looked up.
A fire engine turned a corner and pulled up in front of a small suburban house. Thin gray smoke drifted from an upstairs window. A crowd immediately began forming.
Humans truly loved emergencies. Eddie shook his head and wandered closer. After all, magical training encouraged observation.
And because he was nosy.
Firefighters jumped from the truck quickly and rushed to the house. Five minutes later, there didn't seem to be much smoke anymore. One of the firefighters came back out without his helmet on , helping an old woman and telling her about the importance of properly working fire alarms. He seemed genuinely kind and warm.
Eddie stopped breathing. The world seemed to pause for a moment.
The firefighter was tall, broad-shouldered, and golden-haired. Sunlight appeared to gather around him. Suddenly birds sang more loudly. The old woman smiled at the golden-haired firefighter admiringly. A dog came from somewhere and wagged its tail at him. The firefighter grinned at the woman, and half the crowd seemed to brighten.
Eddie narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
There were not many elves left in the cities.
Most preferred ancient forests, hidden enclaves, or diplomatic positions where everybody could admire them from a safe distance.
The thing about elves was that they disrupted reality simply by existing. Humans became distracted around them. Birds sang more enthusiastically. Once, an elf had attended a city council meeting and productivity had dropped by eighty percent for three weeks.
This man had to be an elf. There was simply no other explanation.
Eddie continued watching. The firefighter said something to the woman and jogged back to the house. He emerged a few minutes later carrying a large orange cat.
And the cat looked… furious. Alright, maybe elves were supposed to have a good connection with animals, but everyone knew that cats were unique. They were free spirits.
And sometimes assholes.
Eddie felt his suspicion harden into certainty. No human should be allowed to look that heroic or sweet while holding a visibly furious, extremely chubby cat that was trying to escape.
This presented an opportunity. Elven components were extraordinarily valuable in advanced potion making. The only problem was elves didn’t enjoy being harvested.
The magical community had established very strict regulations after several unfortunate incidents. One was allowed to collect hair, clipped nails, and similar materials only with permission.
One was very definitely not allowed to kidnap an elf.
Eddie knew this. He was not an idiot. So he wasn’t going to kidnap this elven firefighter. He was merely considering a temporary relocation. A short visit to his room.
There was a difference.
Eddie slowly began formulating a plan. Over the next two weeks, he accumulated evidence. Unfortunately, it was the wrong evidence.
He followed the firefighter whenever his schedule allowed, which was not as often as he would have liked. Senior year was demanding. Professors seemed to believe that students had neither hobbies nor the need for sleep. Nevertheless, Eddie managed to observe his subject on several occasions.
His notes rapidly filled an entire notebook.
The first page read: possible elf.
The second page read: almost certainly elf.
The remaining pages consisted primarily of increasingly questionable reasoning.
For example: Observed carrying elderly woman down apartment stairs during evacuation.
Conclusion: Displays characteristic elven compassion.
Beneath that: Observed tripping over garden hose immediately afterward.
Conclusion: Deliberately concealing superior agility.
Beneath that: Tripped a second time over same hose.
Conclusion: He seems to be extremely committed to concealment.
One afternoon Eddie observed the firefighter walking through a park.
Three dogs approached him during his walk at different points. All three abandoned their owners. The firefighter greeted all three with obvious delight. His smile seemed to brighten his surroundings.
Conclusion: Natural affinity with animals. Strong evidence of elven ancestry.
A week later Eddie witnessed the same man accidentally walk into a signpost because he was waving at somebody across the street. The impact produced an audible clang.
The firefighter looked around to see if anybody had seen it. Everyone had.
Conclusion: Still maintaining cover identity.
At this point the evidence was trying to escape, but Eddie refused to let it.
The final confirmation came after a twenty-four-hour shift.
The firefighter, who was called Buck apparently, emerged from the station looking exhausted.
His hair was messy. His t-shirt was wrinkled. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. He was carrying a duffel bag and a bagel. He raised the hand holding the bagel while searching for his keys with the other. A seagull swooped in and stole the bagel.
And Buck, the elf, laughed. Seagulls were the worst of the birds. Even worse than pigeons. Eddie perked up. Maybe his thesis could involve giving seagulls the ability to talk.
He suddenly shivered. There were certain things one did not dare disturb. Certain things magic should not touch. Seagulls were one of them.
He was pretty sure that if he gave seagulls the ability to talk, he would be exiled from the wizarding community.
He had to focus on this elf.
The seagull had taken the bagel, but somehow the firefighter still seemed charming. He even laughed affectionately, looking after the seagull.
That should not have been possible. There was only one explanation.
Elf. Possibly a very powerful elf. Potentially an elf prince.
Eddie's project suddenly seemed achievable. All he needed was a few strands of hair or a clipping from a fingernail.
If he asked the elf directly, there was a real chance that Buck would disappear into another city. He was only going to make sure that he had the chance to ask properly and explain his reason before the elf could disappear.
Buck returned home and Eddie watched from across the street as the man entered a building.
Eddie ignored all the advice his abuela might have given him if she had known the extent of his despair.
Several poor decisions later, he stood in the hallway in front of Buck’s door.
His wand felt unusually heavy. Then he cast the spell.
Magic surged. The world folded.
And suddenly both men vanished.
Buck was in the middle of opening his refrigerator when the kitchen disappeared. One moment he was reaching for orange juice. The next moment he was standing somewhere else entirely.
His first thought was that he had finally become too tired to function and had simply fallen asleep.
His second thought was that he was having hallucinations due to exhaustion. He pinched himself and felt the sting. He was awake then.
He was in a dimly lit room. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling. Floating candles drifted lazily through the air. Strange symbols glowed on the wooden floor around him in a circle.
A tiny dragon slept upside down from a ceiling beam.
"Huh."
Then he noticed the tape over his mouth. His eyes crossed slightly as he attempted to look directly at it. He stared at it for several seconds.
Across the room, a (very pretty) man stood rigidly beside a desk. Their eyes met. Buck looked at him. Then at the tape.
Buck slowly raised a hand. The pretty man watched.
Buck grabbed one corner of the tape and peeled it off.
The guy closed his eyes. Then he slapped a hand over his face.
Finally Buck asked, "...was this supposed to stop me?"
The pretty guy groaned into his hand. “I’ve never kidnapped anyone before, okay?”
Buck remained exactly where he was for several moments. It looked like he was surrounded by magic and was probably in the Wizarding Academy. Despite the fact that he had apparently been kidnapped, he felt a surge of excitement. He’d never been allowed inside. He didn’t know where to look first.
Unfortunately, the wizard himself kept distracting him.
Buck had met attractive people before. Los Angeles practically manufactured them in bulk. He worked with several firefighters who looked like models.
This was different. The man standing across from him looked as though reality had put in an unreasonable amount of effort to sculpt the handsomest man Buck had ever seen.
Dark hair fell across a sharp, serious face with an elegant bone structure. His black robes hung neatly over a black shirt, and Buck had to stop himself from staring at the thick thighs outlined by gray jeans. But it was the guy’s eyes he liked the most. Wide, brown, beautiful eyes.
Buck decided to wait. In his experience, though mostly from movies, people who kidnapped strangers usually had a speech prepared.
Sure enough, the wizard straightened slightly and said:
"I need some of your hair."
Buck considered this. As kidnapping demands went, it was unexpectedly reasonable. Nobody had asked for money. Nobody had demanded state secrets. Nobody had even requested a kidney.
Hair was comparatively manageable.
Still, Buck possessed a healthy sense of self-preservation and an unhealthy amount of curiosity. Before agreeing to surrender any body parts, however minor, he felt entitled to a few answers.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The wizard immediately drew himself up straighter. His expression became solemn.
Buck had the distinct impression that he was witnessing a ritual.
"My name is Edmundo Ramón Diaz, Third Scion of House Diaz, Heir to the Silver Wards of San Gabriel, Keeper of the Western Threshold…"
Edmundo took a deep breath and Buck waited for the rest of the titles, but instead he got, "You can call me Eddie."
Buck didn’t believe him.
"Well, Edmundo Ramón…"
"Just Eddie."
Buck bit down on a smile.
Growing up reading everything he could find on magic, he had developed certain expectations about wizards. Most of them were pompous and dramatic.
Being kidnapped by a wizard named Edmundo Ramón Diaz, Keeper of Stuff, sounded like the beginning of a very serious problem. Being kidnapped by a wizard who insisted on being called just Eddie sounded faintly ridiculous.
Admittedly, the man could still be a bastard.
Buck cleared his throat.
"Well, Eddie, why do you need my hair?"
Eddie shrugged.
"It doesn't need to be hair."
Buck immediately regretted asking.
"It could be fingernails. Those would work too. An ear might be useful. Possibly a finger. Depending on…"
"No," Buck interrupted quickly. "No, hair sounds great. Hair is fantastic. Let's stay with hair."
Eddie looked mildly disappointed.
"But why?" Buck continued.
The wizard stared at him incredulously.
As though Buck had somehow become the unreasonable one. As though Buck was the person who had abducted a complete stranger and begun collecting samples.
"Because you're an elf," Eddie said.
Buck blinked. That was not where he had expected the conversation to go. Though, to be fair, he had no idea what the alternative explanations would be.
"An elf?"
"Yes."
They stared at each other for a very long time. Buck slowly rubbed the back of his neck.
"No, I'm not."
The statement should have settled the matter. After all, Buck felt uniquely qualified to identify his own species.
Instead, Eddie narrowed his eyes. Then he made a vague gesture up and down the length of Buck's body.
"Then how do you explain this?"
Buck looked down at himself. He was wearing boots. Jeans. A very wrinkly t-shirt. None of these things seemed particularly mysterious.
He looked back up.
"This?"
"Yes."
Buck genuinely wanted to help this beautiful, obviously insane wizard. Unfortunately, Buck had no idea what part of himself required explanation.
So he asked.
"What exactly is 'this'?"
Eddie's eyes narrowed even further.
Buck was becoming concerned for the man's vision.
"Your appearance," Eddie said.
The wizard gestured again, as though Buck's entire existence constituted evidence.
"You're seriously going to tell me you're not an elf when you look like this?"
Buck froze. For perhaps the first time since arriving in the tower, genuine surprise overtook confusion.
"Oh."
Heat rushed immediately into his face. He felt giddy because that might have been the best compliment he'd ever received.
"Th-thank you," he managed. "But I'm just human. There are plenty of men who look like me, you know."
Eddie continued studying him. Then he narrowed his eyes even further. Buck was fairly certain Eddie's eyes were closed now.
Finally, after several seconds of intense scrutiny, Eddie said,
"No."
Buck blinked.
"No?"
"No, I haven't seen any."
Buck felt himself blush harder.
Across the room, the tiny dragon lifted its head. It looked from Buck to Eddie, sighed, and immediately tucked its face beneath its wings again.
Eddie continued looking at him as though he was someone fascinating.
Buck, meanwhile, continued standing there trying very hard not to think about the fact that a beautiful wizard had apparently kidnapped him because he was too attractive.
Finally, Eddie nodded once.
"We'll see."
Before he could ask what exactly they would be seeing, Eddie took a step toward him.
Buck instinctively took a step back.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. He looked around, probably for a weapon or something. Buck saw his gaze land on a piece of wood.
Buck hesitated for a brief moment. Then he decided that if he was going to be kidnapped by a wizard, he should at least put in a token effort to resist.
He launched himself forward. Eddie's eyes widened.
Buck snatched the piece of wood from the floor. Then he jumped backward and triumphantly held it aloft.
"Aha!"
Eddie blinked.
Buck pointed the wand dramatically.
"What are you going to do now?"
To Buck's surprise, Eddie grinned. It transformed his entire face.
The serious expression vanished and suddenly he looked younger. Less like a wizard from a centuries-old bloodline and more like a man who would rather make goofy jokes.
His smile also revealed slightly pointed canines. Buck wanted to lick.... He shook his head. Focus, Buck.
"You mean without my stick?" Eddie asked.
Buck looked down.
"Is this not a wand?"
Eddie shrugged.
"No."
Buck stared.
"No?"
"No."
Buck held up the stick.
"So what is it?"
Eddie shrugged again.
"I found it when I was stalking you."
Buck didn’t know which part of that sentence to focus on for a moment. He decided to focus on the possible weapon in his hand.
"You found it?"
"I liked the color."
Buck examined the stick. Honestly, it was a nice stick. But other than that, it looked nondescript.
"Yeah," he admitted. "It's a nice stick," but he was still suspicious.
Then Eddie snapped his fingers. A small book lifted off the table.
"I don't need a wand to do magic, Buck."
Oh, Eddie knew his name. And Buck was just holding a stick. He extended it towards Eddie, feeling embarrassed.
Eddie accepted it. He immediately made a small swirling motion with the stick, which indeed was a wand.
And Buck found himself glittering from head to toe.
He glared.
"Come on."
The betrayal in his voice was entirely justified.
Eddie hummed thoughtfully.
"Trusting and sincere."
Buck narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
"Just like an elf."
Buck groaned. Eddie had already moved away. A minute later, Buck was back to his unsparkly self.
A few moments later, Eddie called from somewhere behind a pile of books. “Um, sorry for that. Just wanted to show off, I guess. I undid the spell, but can you wait? If that’s okay?” Buck realized that he was too curious to just leave.
The wizard was searching through piles of books, drawers, shelves…
Buck watched him move around the room. At some point Eddie absently set his wand on the edge of a nearby table.
Their eyes met briefly.
Eddie looked at the wand.
Then at Buck.
Then went back to searching.
Buck understood the message immediately.
I'm not going to stop you if you want to leave.
Buck watched him for a while longer. Then curiosity won again.
"What kind of potion are you making?"
"Either a protection or healing potion. I don't know."
Buck blinked.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"You kidnapped me for ingredients and you don't know what you're making?"
Eddie glanced over his shoulder.
"I know what I’m making. I just haven’t decided which one I want yet.”
Eddie returned to his search.
After several moments Buck asked,
"What's your favorite spell?"
This made Eddie pause. He actually considered it.
"A restoration charm."
Buck had expected something more dramatic.
Maybe a lightning bolt. Summoning demons. Something wizardly.
"A restoration charm?"
"My son keeps breaking things."
Buck smiled despite himself.
"You have a son?"
Eddie’s entire being softened. He nodded. “Christopher, he’s seven.” Then a picture floated toward Buck, showing the cutest kid he'd ever seen
“Oh, he’s so cute.”
Eddie smiled proudly and for a moment seemed to be lost in thought. Then he resumed rummaging.
Buck shifted where he stood. “So you can do magic without a wand?”
Eddie hummed. “Only small things. But my wand helps me focus my magic. Especially when I’m nervous.”
Buck nodded. He might as well learn more about the guy while waiting. He preferred not to think about the fact that no one was actually forcing him to wait or stay in the room. He was a curious soul. Sue him.
"So why are you so desperate for elf hair?"
Eddie stopped moving again. His shoulders slumped. Then he continued searching, but more slowly now.
"Chris’s mother died when he was very young." He picked up a heavy book and looked under it. "He's living with my grandmother while I finish school."
Buck listened.
"I see him all the time."
Eddie pulled open another drawer.
"But it isn't enough."
His voice softened.
"I miss him every day."
Eddie finally found a pair of scissors. He stood there holding the scissors, staring down at his hands. “I just want to graduate and go back to him. I need this spell.”
Then he started walking toward Buck with scissors in hand. The effect would have been alarming if he weren't simultaneously the saddest person Buck had ever met.
"I need to finish this year," Eddie repeated. "I need a job. I need to go home."
He stopped in front of Buck. The scissors gleamed.
"I need to be able to support him."
Buck looked up at him.
Eddie looked down at the scissors. Then at Buck. Something changed in Eddie's expression. The determination drained away. In its place came exhaustion.
And guilt. A lot of guilt. Eddie stepped backward. His shoulders slumped.
"I can't do it." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I know it's just hair." The words came out rough. "But I shouldn't have done this."
Buck remained silent. Eddie looked absolutely miserable.
"I shouldn't have brought you here." His throat worked. "I'm sorry."
The apology sounded genuine. Painfully genuine.
There were tears in his eyes now. "I'm so sorry. I’d understand if you wanted to report me. We can even go together now if you want."
For a moment Buck couldn’t speak. Then he slowly reached for the scissors and took them from Eddie’s hand.
The wizard did not resist. He looked too surprised to resist.
Buck grabbed a lock of his own hair.
Snip.
Then he held out the strands.
Eddie’s mouth worked but no sound came out. He simply stared at Buck for several seconds. He looked astonished, as if Buck had handed him a dragon egg or a miracle.
Buck wiggled the hair slightly.
"Take it."
Eddie accepted it carefully. His fingers brushed Buck's.
The wizard swallowed. His throat moved once. Then he whispered,
"Thank you."
Buck smiled.
"You really need to work on your people skills."
A faint laugh escaped Eddie. The first genuine laugh Buck had heard from him.
"Probably."
"Definitely."
Eddie looked at Buck again.
Something soft appeared in his expression. He lifted his wand. Magic gathered at the tip.
Buck braced himself. Then Eddie hesitated. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Pleasure to meet you, Buck."
The way he said it made it sound less like a goodbye and more like a beginning.
A heartbeat later, the room vanished.
On the way to his next shift, Buck was still reeling from his experience with the beautiful wizard. He still half believed that he'd hallucinated the whole thing. It wasn't too uncommon to meet a wizard. On the other hand, as far as he knew, being accused of being an elf because one looked too pretty was rare. Buck wished he'd spent a bit more time with Eddie. He hadn't even found out what the deal with the small dragon was.
He parked his car and walked slowly towards the entrance. A pigeon flew towards him. Buck watched as the unusually large bird continued straight in his direction. Watched as the bird landed on the ground in front of him and dropped a small package near his feet.
He slowly leaned down to see what it was when the pigeon croaked, "Buck."
"Aaaaaah!" Buck yelped, stumbling backward, spilling a little bit of coffee on himself. He looked around, as if to make sure he wasn't the only one seeing or hearing this, but there was no one else.
He slowly approached the pigeon again. The bird waited patiently. He grabbed the package and opened it. Inside was a small flower that looked remarkably lively despite being wrapped, a lock of brown hair, and a note.
"Dear Buck,
I wanted to apologize again for kidnapping you and asking for your hair. I felt bad that you had to cut your hair, so I'm sending some of my own. I'm working on the spell and I will let you know of my progress.
I'm also sending a small flower. I found it on the sidewalk after a kid had discarded it. I put a spell on it so that it won't wilt for a long time. Hoping that it will brighten your day.
You can send me a message back with Bart.”
Buck looked at the large pigeon. Bart didn't seem like such a bad name for it. He continued reading the note.
“She insisted she didn't have a name, so I named her Bart after you.”
That made Buck pause. He tried to think of their conversation the other night. He didn't think he mentioned any Bart in his life. Mostly because he didn't have any Bart in his life. He scratched his head, confused about everything.
P.S. (there is extra paper if you want.)
Buck looked, and yes, there was a small piece of paper and even a tiny pen.
He looked at Bart and said "Wait." When Bart answered "Okay," Buck nearly dropped the package and stumbled backward again. Bart didn't react. He'd heard of the rumors that pigeons near the academy had started talking but had never seen one.
He quickly scribbled a note.
"Thank you Eddie. For the flower and the hair.
I hope the spell goes well. Maybe one day I can visit again. I'm curious about that dragon in your room and didn't get a chance to ask about it.
I'll keep the flower in my pocket. I don't know what to do with the hair.
(P.S. what do you mean you named Bart after me?)”
He folded the note and gave it back to Bart, who took it with her beak and flew away. Buck watched it go and then looked at the small white flower in his hand. He couldn't remember the last time someone had given him a gift just because they thought it might make him smile. He didn't think Eddie was implying anything romantic; he seemed too focused on his spells to think of Buck that way, but he still felt some excitement flaring.
He spent a week waiting for more news from Eddie. He kept looking at the sky whenever he was outside. His team had started asking questions but he didn't want to share Eddie with them. Not yet. Eddie was his weirdo for now.
Then two weeks after the first message, Bart appeared in front of the station again. This time, when the bird croaked "Buck" he didn't jump in surprise. He took the small package from her mouth and thanked her. Bart didn't respond.
When he opened the package, the first thing he saw was two glass fireflies. They were delicate, beautiful things. And another note:
“Dear Buck,
Thank you for responding to my message. I’m still working on the spell. Still grateful for your help. I’m sending you two enchanted glass fireflies. If you tap them twice, they will float and flicker. You can put them in a glass jar if you want. There aren’t many fireflies in the city, and you might have missed them from your elven lands.”
Buck sighed and shook his head. Eddie still believed he was an elf. Buck didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on the wizard’s face when the spell didn’t work.
“P.S. I named her Bart because Bart has 4 letters and starts with B, just like Buck.”
Buck snorted. He didn’t know what he’d expected but he should have known he would have gotten a random answer like this.
He quickly wrote a note back:
“Dear Eddie,
Thank you for the gift again. They are beautiful.
And I don’t want you to work on something that won’t work, Eddie. I’m not an elf. Sorry.
P.S. Bart doesn’t seem very talkative, or are all pigeons like this?”
He hesitated.
Then he looked at the paper and said, "Eh, fuck it."
And wrote:
“See you around, hopefully.”
He folded the note and gave it Bart, who flew away immediately.
For three weeks, Eddie believed he had solved all his problems.
The hair sat inside a crystal vial on his desk while he worked. Occasionally he glanced at it and felt a strange warmth in his chest.
This was probably gratitude. It definitely wasn't because the owner of the hair had smiled at him. That would have been ridiculous. Eddie was a serious scholar who had committed one kidnapping.
The project itself was elegant, at least in theory.
The magical world had a growing problem with sick forests. Ancient trees were becoming vulnerable to blights, curses, pollution, and magical parasites. Eddie wanted to create a protection spell capable of protecting trees against pollution before they got too sick.
It was practical and useful. It was the sort of thing House Diaz was known for. Just helping things survive.
Abuela approved immediately.
Eddie had to make this spell right. To make abuela proud. To live with his son. To justify the trust Buck had placed in him. He tried not to think about the messages they exchanged. Otherwise, he would spend all his time daydreaming about a warm smile and blue eyes.
The spell required dozens of ingredients.
Most of them were easily accessible. And, of course, elf hair. The key. The thing that would supposedly connect the spell to the natural world.
Everything fit perfectly. The theory was beautiful.
And it exploded, destroying three weeks of work.
Eddie stared at the smoking remains of his cauldron. He wouldn’t give up. Not yet.
The second attempt failed too.
The third attempt somehow turned a sapling purple.
The fourth caused Eddie to turn purple. He had to hide in his room for a whole day.
The fifth created a tomato capable of expressing disappointment. Eddie destroyed it immediately. He did not need that sort of judgment in his life.
By the sixth attempt he was desperate enough to ask his abuela for help. He wouldn’t be able to use the spell if abuela made it. So he just gave her the hair and his formula. If the spell worked, at least he would know that he was the problem, not the formula. He would still have to find another spell for his thesis, but if the spell worked, he would be helping trees.
Abuela examined the hair.
"You obtained this legally?"
"More or less."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Edmundo."
"It was mostly legal."
"Edmundo."
Eddie sighed.
"I don't want to talk about it."
Abuela sighed too.
The spell failed for her as well. Abuela could probably heal a forest using sheer stubbornness, but the magic refused to work.
For a long moment she studied the vial. Then she handed it back.
"The hair is genuine."
"I know."
"The spell is correct."
"I know."
"The problem is your assumption."
Eddie frowned.
"What assumption?"
Abuela looked at him as though she was trying not to hurt his feelings.
"The assumption that this belongs to an elf."
Eddie bit his lip. Was this the time to accept that a small, rational part of him had already started to believe that Buck wasn’t an elf? Denial was one of his strong suits
He shook his head. He couldn’t deny the facts right in front of him anymore.
Eddie buried his face in his hands.
"Oh no."
The next several days were unpleasant. Partly because his project had failed. Partly because he had kidnapped an innocent man.
Eventually Eddie found himself wandering through the city again. His feet simply seemed to know where they were going. Several times he accidentally ended up near Buck's fire station.
This was clearly a coincidence. A coincidence that occurred six times.
Eddie watched from a distance. He was just observing innocently. He watched him joke with coworkers. Watched him help strangers. Watched him stop to pet every dog that approached him, which was all of them.
One afternoon Eddie found himself sitting atop a tree while Buck's crew responded to an emergency.
Smoke poured from an apartment complex. People crowded the streets. Firefighters rushed inside and came out after a while with people, while the others tried to put the fire down.
Eddie watched with bated breath. Sometimes first responders like firefighters asked for help from wizards, especially in big fires, and a couple stations even had resident wizards now. 118 didn’t seem to. Unfortunately, the population of wizards wasn’t very big. There weren’t enough to assign one to every dangerous job.
There were some working at hospitals, too. Wizards couldn’t heal chronic or terminal illnesses, unfortunately. They couldn’t cure. But they were good at treating and helping bones and wounds heal faster. They usually attended the worst cases, but their presence didn't guarantee survival. Highly traumatic injuries like gunshots or stabbing wounds to the gut were difficult even for wizards.
Eddie was getting ready to go find the captain to offer his services if necessary.
Then somebody screamed. A child appeared at a second-floor window. Firefighters shouted something. There was apparently a problem with the ladder.
The child looked terrified. Eddie grabbed his wand. He could be kicked out of the Academy if the captain of this station complained, but…
Buck ran straight toward the building, reached the wall, and started climbing, using drainpipes, ledges, window frames, and what appeared to be pure determination.
A minute later he reached the child. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Eddie watched the entire thing. And suddenly, a smile spread slowly across his face. The signs had been there all along. The ridiculous confidence. The complete lack of self-preservation because he trusted his abilities. The tendency to charge directly toward danger.
The impossible charisma. The overwhelming physical presence. The fact that normal people kept reacting to him as though he was something extraordinary.
Buck climbed back down with the rescued child in his arms while people cheered.
The afternoon sun gleamed in his hair.
He dropped down from the tree.
Eddie shook his head in amazement.
"He's a dragon."
And for the second time in a month, Eddie became absolutely convinced he had solved the mystery.
The second time Buck felt the magic, his reaction was notably different.
The first time had involved confusion, alarm, and a brief concern that he might be hallucinating.
This time he mostly felt tired.
"Oh, come on."
The kitchen vanished.