Page 7 of Hybrid Heroics

“You can’t get any secrets by magically picking the locks. That only lets the wild animals out.” I scoffed, taunting him as he walked forward, rolling his sleeves up. “I know where you’re going. You won’t get anywhere.”

With each step he took, the tent grew farther away, until it looked like miles were between us.

“I need those secrets,” Alric roared, charging toward me.

“I’m sure you do,” I acknowledged, nodding as I sidestepped him like the raging bull he was.

So he needed something from me. That was nothing new.

And he clearly had issues with things he couldn’t control. Which made me wonder if that was a familial trait or something all powerful beings possessed.

Something else I had just noticed was how my skin was glowing. When I pissed him off, I would dim, like someone turned the brightness down. It wasn’t normal while I was here. This was something Alric was doing, but I didn’t know what it meant.

I knew I didn’t like it, though.

“Maybe if you told me what you were looking for…” I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders. “The only thing you care about is power. You look like you’ve got more than you know what to do with already. It’s warring inside you, waiting to implode, because you don’t know how to control it properly.”

“I have perfect control,” he spat.

I held my hands up as I walked away from him. “Fine. Okay. Do it yourself, then.”

It was only now setting in that Alric saw me as a child he could manipulate into giving what he wanted. By human standards, I was an adult. But when you lived for hundreds or thousands of years, time had a way of warping your perspective.

He was simply making assumptions based on how he thought I would act. The secrets tent was a prime example.

I wasn’t eight. I didn’t write this is a diary across the front of a notebook that I intended to pour my heart out to. He would find no socks label on my sock drawer…

So why the fuck would he think the secrets tent held secrets?

It didn’t really matter.

The secrets he was looking for were in the bellies of the beasts, in the boots left to rot in the shadows of the side attractions, in the discarded popcorn boxes. Places he would never think to look.

There was only one more thing I wanted to do while I had him here.

And that was what we were doing.

I headed to my core. To the funhouse full of mirror mazes and dead ends.

I would consider leaving him trapped there if that stupid prophecy wasn’t so important to everyone. But I didn’t trust him unattended in my circus, either.

My funhouse was a creepy, jet-black Victorian home on the outside. Neon signs shone in the windows, calling attendees of all ages to step up and see their true self.

Once inside, the maze was never-ending. It went on for miles, losing its guests as they ran from their faults.

I knew my short-comings, my failures, my flaws.

I was betting Alric didn’t know all of his. He would have some he refused to acknowledge, too.

The door opened for us of its own accord, slamming closed before he was completely inside. An assault of reflections met us, dozens of grinning Sloanes and scowling Alrics.

“They told me you were insane,” he muttered. “I thought they were exaggerating.”

“Hearsay. I think I’m totally normal.” I tilted my head to the left as I pursed my lips. “These mirrors show the things you don’t want to admit. If there’s something you can hurt me with… It’ll be in one of these.”

He raised a brow at me.

“Maybe,” I amended. “You know what they say about insanity.”