The Strangers of Precedent

“I do like the Christmas colored bats,” Syren said, lifting a garland of the things, “But you don’t seem to be doing this for fun.”

Bobbi had all her attention on this project. Now on winter break, she’d made the whole house smell of ginger and cinnamon until Mortimer banned her from the kitchen, personally convinced Singe to help her get a giant tree, and now set herself the task of decorating it.

“I don’t do boredom well,” Bobbi admitted, “Christmas is a good way to go all out.”

She’d said that about Halloween, too.

Syren side-stepped away. She didn’t want to be dragged into the next Holiday project. She was grateful for the knock on the door.

“That’s probably Drake,” Bobbi said, pointing out how dark it was outside.

A glance through the window showed the figure was too dark to be Drake. He moved to the window, making eye-contact with Syren and waving.

“Solomon!”

She pulled her brother inside the house, checking for luggage before closing the door.

“Don’t tell me you only came here with the clothes on your back.”

“I won’t,” Solomon answered. “Who is this?” he asked Bobbi.

“I’m Bobbi, hi.”

Solomon took her offered hand and kissed it.

“Europe must have gotten to you,” Syren joked.

“Maybe. Maybe I just got caught up in the beauty.”

Was that flirting?

“Yeah,” Bobbi said, oblivious, “It was hard to get the right tree, but Singe and I managed it. Most of the decorations are handmade. I can’t make popcorn until Mortimer lets me back in the kitchen, but it’ll be on there.”

“All month,” Syren mouthed from behind Bobbi.

“Maybe you should do this professionally.” Solomon leaned onto the back of the couch.

Syren braced for Bobbi to be compelled by Solomon’s voice. As an Imperator Siren, any commands or things too similar from his voice compelled people to obey. Bobbi didn’t reply at all, just focused on her work.

“Don’t worry,” Syren said, “He didn’t mean it.”

“Of course not. I’m going to be a librarian, then I can decorate a much larger space.”

Why wasn’t she compelled? “Maybe” didn’t usually work to counter Solomon’s commands, but he didn’t look confused about it. He must have gotten more control over his abilities. Whatever, It wasn’t Syren’s job to out him in front of Bobbi.

Another knock on the door. Syren opened it to Drake.

“Sorry I’m late. Apparently there’s a small amount of snow, so everyone native to the state has—” Drake’s jaw dropped as he spotted Solomon, who waved at him. Drake shut his mouth once he caught Bobbi staring.

“I take it you two know each other,” she said.

“You could say that,” Drake answered.

“You could,” Solomon added. “I haven’t seen you since…”

“Since you left me—us—for Europe and traveling in general. How was your trip by the way? Why are you here?”

“That’s a few questions.”

“That’s more than you asked me when I first arrived,” Bobbi said.

“I definitely asked you more than two questions,” Drake countered.

“Don’t be so sure.”

“I just got here,” Solomon admitted, “And just met Bobbi over here. Did you know she made most of the decorations on this tree?”

“Yes, I helped actually. So did Singe. You should let him know your here.”

“Is he in town?”

“Yeah, for the next few years maybe. Implied he’s on some sort of walkabout, except he’s staying in one place. I’m going to go get him because it’s been even longer since you two have seen each other. Bye.”

Drake rushed back out the door.

“He doesn’t seem happy to see me,” Solomon observed.

“Go figure,” Syren said.

“He was supposed to take me to get more supplies,” Bobbi said.

“It’s probably for the best.” Syren gestured around the house littered with Bobbi’s efforts.

“I can take you,” Solomon offered, “Make a new friend maybe.”

Bobbi almost took his offered hand then pulled away.

“How are you with Vampires?”

“I’d say I’m on good terms with most I’ve met.”

Syren snorted.

“What?”

“Good terms.”

She made a suggestive face. She knew exactly what his history with Drake was.

“This isn’t a Drake situation,” Bobbi explained, “These are like Vampires that maybe want to kill me.”

“I don’t think they’ll attack you with me around.”

“They’re resistant to psychic abilities, doofus,” Syren said, “You know this. It’s why you befriended Drake in the first place.”

Solomon pulled a vial of a red something from inside his shirt.

“This will ward them away. They hate the smell of it.”

“Where did you get it?” the girls both asked.

“Am I allowed no mystery?” he asked back as he returned the vial to his shirt.

“No!”

He smiled, focusing his gaze on Bobbi.

“Where could I have gotten something like that in the first place?”

“I can think of a few sources,” Syren answered.

“Good point. Do I get to escort you now?” he offered the hand to Bobbi again.

“Fine, but only because I’m running out of glue.”

“You coming, sis?”

Syren flinched. Since when did Solomon call her “sis”? She cocked her head as she stared at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go on without me.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He offered his arm to Bobbi, and she jumped over the couch to take it and head out the door.

Whoever Bobbi was with was not Syren’s brother, but he certainly wasn’t a Vampire.

After waiting a few minutes, Syren ran to the campus, where Thoth would be alone in the library. He would know what to do with an impostor.

“Did we just see Solomon with Bobbi?” Singe asked, interrupting Syren’s sprint.

“Not Solomon,” Syren said, “Someone pretending to be him.”

“What?” Singe asked.

“How do you know that?” Drake asked, moving beside him from behind.

“He called me sis.”

They seemed less than convinced.

“You are his sister,” Singe said.

“He’s always called me Sy, since forever. Even in his letters.” she presented the documents.

“He sent you letters?” Drake asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t dump him.”

Drake looked wounded. Singe stared at him. Syren remembered how secret the relationship between Drake and Solomon was.

“Using the wrong nickname after some amount of time away is hardly damning evidence,” Drake finally said.

“He also seems off in general. He didn’t answer any of our questions really. He seemed to be flirting with Bobbi.”

“What!”

A few other people on the street stared at Drake’s outburst.

“Unless we know Solomon is definitely uninterested in women,” Singe said, “That doesn’t mean anything except that he thought she was cute.”

“He’s interested in both,” Drake said, “Same as me.”

“So that’s another moot point.”

“It’s worth checking!” Syren took her letters back. “I’m going to tell Thoth. If you guys want to join them, Bobbi said something about glue.”

She aggressively moved past them. They followed her.

“Maybe you’re just annoyed because your brother’s giving a stranger attention instead of you,” Singe proposed.

“Or that your friend is giving your brother attention instead of you,” Drake added.

“Are you going to keep telling me I’m delusional, or are you going to do something useful?” she asked, “If I turn out to be right, you’re going to feel so stupid.”

She felt less followed after a minute, and checked behind her. They were walking over to the store where Bobbi and Not-Solomon seemed to be talking. It didn’t matter.

She marched the rest of the way to Thoth in the library. It was empty, so Thoth was reading a book, not paying attention to her.

He startled as she slammed the letters on the table.

“Someone’s pretending to be my brother! I think.”

Thoth readjusted his glasses and placed his copy of Faustus on the desk.

“What makes you so sure?”

“He called me sis instead of Sy, which he always calls me, even in the letters.”

Thoth took the letters, skimming through them.

“I assume it wasn’t just the name.”

“He seemed off to me.”

“What kind of off?” Thoth asked.

“Like flirting with Bobbi, which apparently he’s interested in both men and women, which I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know he was family,” Thoth muttered.

“What family?”

“None relevant to our impostor. Other than flirtation and names gone wrong, what did he do?”

“I’m not sure he ever actually answered any question.”

Thoth’s eyes widened. He got up from the desk and pulled Syren out of the library, closing it behind them.

“What is it?”

“Bobbi, and anyone else with your impostor, could be in very real danger.”

“So you believe me?”

“Of course I—you have good instincts.” he took a moment to distance his expression, “Besides, you’re a changeling, who better to catch an impostor.”

Syren pulled her hand away, but continued to follow Thoth.

“The problem is,” he continued, “Anyone who believes he’s Solomon will treat him like he is Solomon, and he was better liked than I am.”

“Of course. He’s Solomon.”

“You on the other hand, are well-beloved by all. You will have to undermine his credibility. Ask questions, prove his falsehood. He can’t dodge them forever.”

“So I just badger him into leaving?” Syren asked.

“To some extent. I’ll have to talk to someone better equipped to handle this.”

“Who?”

“It’s best if I keep you in the dark.” his eyes moved at a rapid pace, clearly not paying attention beyond his own thoughts, “This impostor is dangerous. Do not tell him anything about yourself if you can help it, especially not your name.”

“Why not my name?”

“Do you trust me, Syren?” Thoth stopped and held her arms.

“I barely know you,” she pulled back, “You’ve been stuck in that library my whole life.”

“Good answer, but trust me when I tell you the less this thing knows you know, the safer you are. I will tell you everything once it’s apparent you’re in worse danger while ignorant.”

“Why don’t I get to choose?”

“Because you are still a child.”

“I’m 18 in like two months.”

“I understand,” he shook his head, “Actually in all honesty it’s been a long time since I was on your end of things—but almost everyone who gets entangled in these affairs immediately wishes they were older when they found out.”

“But I already know about it.”

“Please. Find your friends. Keep them safe. Be yourself.”

Thoth abandoned her.

“Why is it necessary to be myself?”

He was too far away to answer.

Syren opened the door of her home, since the others weren’t in the store she’d seen earlier.

The scene looked normal. Everyone was sitting around on the floor. Bobbi had clearly explained the procedure for whatever it was they were doing, and they seemed to be laughing.

“Syren, great!” Bobbi waved her in, “Mortimer finally let me make popcorn. We’re making the garlands now. It’s great!”

She produced a needle and thread from the middle and handed them over as Syren sat down.

“You know how to sew, right? I assumed as much with all the stuff you wear, but maybe you don’t sew it yourself.”

“I know some sewing,” Syren replied, already mad at herself for revealing information in front of Not-Solomon. Thoth didn’t mean sewing capability when he said that, did he?

“Great. Thread the needle, poke it through the popcorn. It’s great, and oh so fun.”

“Can you say great approximately twelve more times?” Singe asked, “I just want to make sure you get it out of your system.”

“I’m on winter break. I’m not an English major during winter break.”

Everyone laughed at that.

“So Syren, where did you go?” Not-Solomon asked, “You weren’t here when we got back.”

“I went out,” she answered.

“Where is out?” Not-Solomon asked.

“Do I have to explain how prepositions work to you?” Syren asked.

“Bobbi can’t,” Singe said.

“That’s right! Winter break: zero brain, just making shit.”

“Am I not allowed to ask where you went now?” Not-Solomon asked.

“No, you’re not allowed.”

“Now who’s avoiding questions?” Drake asked.

“Oh yeah, I heard you think I’m an impostor, apparently.”

Syren knew she looked surprised, and maybe afraid. Not-Solomon seemed to be smirking.

“Which one of you is a snitch?” she asked, staring meaningfully at Drake.

“I told him,” Singe confessed, “He said you were acting weird, and I mentioned you said the same thing about him. I guess your time apart really messed up the sibling dynamic.”

“Best part of being an only child!” Bobbi held her hand out for Singe to high-five. Apparently Syren had missed out on a bonding session.

“Maybe we should go and talk it out,” Not-Solomon proposed, “Leave these guys to popcorn and sort out what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want to miss out on time with my friends,” Syren said, “You can leave though.”

“Go and sort it out,” Drake ordered, “The rest of us shouldn’t have to suffer from your differences.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi said, “You’re family or whatever.”

Syren wasn’t getting out of this. Once they figured out Not-Solomon was an impostor, she was going to make them apologize for this.

“Fine. Let’s go to where we usually hang out.”

“You don’t need to be mysterious with us,” Drake said, “You can just say family library.” he winked.

True, Syren and Solomon spent a lot of time in the library, but their usual spot was the upstairs lounge where there was a video game console and so many better things.

Not-Solomon led her to the library, gliding his hand across the spines of the books. He grabbed one of their dad’s volumes.

“These are just public for anyone to see, aren’t they?”

“Unity in knowledge,” Syren quoted the family motto.

“Right,” his cadence changed. Before he’d at least spoken the same way, but now this was a completely different person.

Syren tried to back away, but he grabbed her arm. She felt something sharp poking into her skin, and blood surrounded his nails. She tried to scream but she couldn’t use her mouth at all.

What was happening?

“I’m making sure you understand, little Changeling. You’re very clever, but a little too trusting.”

He was right. She made the choice to go alone with him instead of telling people she didn’t feel safe.

Not-Solomon pulled her closer.

“Your problem was telling people. If you had just kept quiet, I would have left you and your friends in peace, but you just had to tell everyone. A little hypocritical considering your confused friend doesn’t know you’re from a race of falsehood.”

Changelings were shapeshifters, but they weren’t harming people with that.

“We’ve met very different Changelings, child. Though I suppose really you’ve met none. Why don’t I show you what they’re all like?”

Show Yourself, something in Syren’s ordered told her, in a language she knew in her bones but had never heard before.

She felt her body turning to black ichor, falling off of her like slime. She tried to grab it, now out of Not-Solomon’s grasp, but it was soaking into the floor. She coughed, hurling out some white substance of a similar consistency to the rest of her body.

She needed to go back. She wasn’t old enough to change forms like this. She concentrated on her family, on her father who she’d imprinted on as a baby. She focused on the face she saw in the mirror, and she felt the parts of herself return to her.

She rolled over on the floor, staring at the ceiling as she panted.

“Impressive for someone who hasn’t hit puberty.” Not-Solomon kicked her. “Do you understand why you aren’t going to get in my way?”

Syren shook her head defiantly. He kicked her harder.

“Because if you try that again, I’ll addle your mind of the memories of your family and of yourself, and you will soak into the ground never to be seen again, are we clear?”

“What are you?” Syren asked.

“I don’t answer questions, remember?”

He left the library. She heard him say something about how tired Syren was and that she would probably head to bed.

He wasn’t wrong about how tired she was. She was tempted to go to sleep right now, but she couldn’t just leave her friends to him.

She heard Singe talk about not being nocturnal then the sound of the door closing. That was at least one less person to worry about.

Drake and Bobbi continued talking with Not-Solomon, who sounded like Solomon again. Syren still couldn’t get up.

Why did he let her know she was right? If he had been quiet, she would have just been confused and found out after getting a letter from Solomon that didn’t mention visiting at all.

Thoth.

That got her up. If Not-Solomon could read her mind like he implied, he knew she told someone who believed her, someone trustworthy.

She moved, slowly but picking up speed, toward the nearest phone and called Thoth’s home. Luckily he picked up.

“Yes, Ms. Eves.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Because everyone else is too afraid to call me at this hour, and rightfully so.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“Yes?” Thoth’s tone was concerned.

“He’s onto us. I think he can read minds. He turned me to jelly or something.”

“What?”

“It was weird. What do we do?”

“Iacta ālea est,” Thoth said, Syren recognized it as Latin, but not much else.

“What does that mean?” She asked.

“It means you need to know something about this impostor. Recall our friend Ms. Carson.”

“You don’t mean—”

“Yes, I do mean,” Thoth said, “This impostor and our dear Ms. Carson are the same species.”

“But Sarah can’t shapeshift.”

“Races are not monoliths, no matter how they seem on the surface. This situation will be handled, Syren. Don’t worry. Now go to bed. It’s late.”

“But he’s up with Bobbi and Drake.”

“Mr. Drake is resistant to psychic abilities, while Ms. Fayner is under his protection. They should be fine. Worry about yourself.”

It didn’t sound like Not-Solomon was taking over their minds, but if he was the same as Sarah…

No, she had to trust Thoth.

“Fine.”

Syren woke up feeling something soaked into her sheets. When she turned to look, she saw they were stained with black.

“This is very bad,” she repeated over and over again, dragging her hands over the stains.

They did slowly disappear, returning to her body. She couldn’t sleep on a surface like this again. The floor was hardwood too, which meant she’d probably damage it.

Once she felt put together, she headed downstairs, searching for Mortimer.

“What are you up to, octopus?” her father asked.

She knew if Not-Solomon was still here, he’d already have her parents around his finger. She couldn’t accuse their returned son of being an impostor like that.

She still knew honesty was the smartest way to go.

“I think part of me soaked into the bed.”

“We all do that from time to time. You don’t have to use such distancing language.”

“No.” she shook her head, “Something black.”

A look of scared recognition overtook her father, which he quickly tried to cover up with a smile.

“We’re a black family Syren, you can check the family records.”

She just stared at him.

Samson Eves was a kind man, with small crow’s feet around his eyes and ever fidgeting hands. He was the one Syren imprinted on, and she was named after his sister. Like every Eves, he was a knowledge keeper, tracking his life over the years in notes and volumes, and those volumes held a lot of knowledge about how Changelings aged.

“I thought this wouldn’t happen until you were twenty.”

“You don’t know that’s what’s happening,” Syren silently begged him to just know what happened last night, but she didn’t have the power to tell him.

“Why else would you start reverting like this?”

Because of some ancient passphrase inserted into her mind forced her to turn into a gelatinous creature over two years ahead of schedule.

“You’ll be staying in the house for the next year,” he said in a businesslike tone.

“What!?”

“Or however long it takes for you to learn the discipline of keeping one form at a time. We can’t risk someone seeing you.”

“It’s Precedent! They’ve seen weirder—half the residents are weirder.”

“What’s happening?” Not-Solomon asked. Syren flinched.

“Your sister’s hitting puberty early.”

“Is she now?” he looked her up and down, focusing on her chest.

“Changeling puberty. Her appearance of human post-pubescence is just that, an appearance. I’ll call Thoth, we had a plan for when this happened, and we’ll need to rush it.”

Syren was left alone with her not-brother. She wished she was smaller from the expression on his face.

“You’ll recover in about a week,” he said, “Until then, the next one could be permanent.”

Syren was once again unable to speak.

“Thoth insisted that you meet with him,” Samson said, “I think he wants to give you one last day on the outside before we lock you up.”

Syren grimaced at her father’s jovial tone.

“Is he going to be here soon?”

“In a few minutes, take a seat.”

She wanted to get the hell away from Not-Solomon

“I wanted to ask Mortimer for plastic bed covers.”

“Go right ahead.”

Mortimer wasn’t difficult to locate, Syren kept them company after explaining what she wanted. They promised to have it ready by tonight. She didn’t leave her spot on the kitchen counter after that until Thoth knocked on the door. She even ate her breakfast over there, trying to avoid incurring Not-Solomon’s wrath.

Not-Solomon had already answered, and Thoth was just as polite as ever.

“Ah, Syren. Are you ready for your lesson with our dear Ms. Charmer?”

Not-Solomon’s eyes widened.

“Charmer?” Syren asked.

“Slip of the tongue. I meant Ms. Carson. You asked for tips on rose gardening apparently.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” her tone was less than convincing, “Why isn’t Sarah here?”

“Her shift ended and she wanted to go home to change. We’ll meet her half-way.”

“Okay…”

Thoth didn’t explain a thing on their way to Sarah’s cabin, no matter what Syren asked him. He’d respond with chess moves every time, involving either a queen, a pawn, or a bishop. She had no idea what the secret code was, but it was hinting at something. Syren wondered if she was the pawn in this scenario.

“Are you planning to sacrifice me?”

“I’m too fond of both you and your parents to even consider the thought.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think of everything,” Syren explained, “Even what you don’t want to think about. It’s why you’re in charge.”

Thoth didn’t respond to anything after that. Syren felt a strange sense of pride.

Eventually they entered the forest way to Sarah’s cabin.

“This feels like more than halfway.”

Thoth didn’t respond, just moved forward.

Syren heard something behind them.

“Just keep moving forward, Ms. Eves. Ms. Carson will join us soon enough.”

They were nearing the range of booby traps Sarah kept as a perimeter for intruders. Thoth probably knew where the traps were, but what if he didn’t?

Syren lurched, the ancient words flooding her mind again.

Show Yourself.

“No!”

She reverted much faster, melting into the forest floor in moments. She couldn’t stop it. Who even was she? She was just a pile of ichor feeding the plants.

Syren, someone called.

That was right. That was her.

Syren had an arm, enough to pull her away from the collapsing form. She used that leverage to turn herself towards Not-Solomon as she continued to pull herself out.

“Hello, Shifter.” Sarah Carson said. Absent were her long skirt and thick sweater. Now she wore what looked like a layer of black fabric accented in dark blue. She held what looked like two daggers.

“I’m surprised you knew how to help the Changeling, little Charmer,” a woman’s voice said from Solomon’s mouth. Then the form changed without movement, and there was a blond woman, taller than Sarah, with horns adding extra height. On her arm, a piece of bone jutted out like a scimitar.

“Syren,” Sarah—Charmer—said, “You’re about to learn an important lesson about dealing with my kind.”

Shifter charged with her weapon. Charmer caught it with her dagger and pushed it against one of the surrounding trees. Then placed the dagger through Shifter’s palm and the bone growth into the tree. Shifter howled in pain.

“Ewww!” Syren shook out her returned hands.

The lesson, Charmer yelled in her mind, Is that you find me to deal with them.

She stabbed Shifter’s other hand into the other side of the tree.

“And now you tell us what we want to know.”

Charmer walked away, pulling Syren closer to Shifter.

“What a treat for your guardian to know you’re alive and well,” Shifter said.

“Shifter,” Charmer replied, “The only reason I haven’t hurt you further is because I found you tolerable in that land of suffering. Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

Shifter adjusted, but obliged.

“Why did you imitate my brother?” Syren asked.

“Because he wasn’t around, and he has the trust of the prince of the Dragon Court.”

“This was about Drake.”

What were Sarah’s kind doing involved with vampire courts?

“We do favors for our allies.”

“How did the Court of the Dragon end up involved with the Demon Elite?” Sarah asked.

“That is not my business. I was merely asked to ascertain why he stayed, and now I have the answer.”

“What’s the answer?” Thoth asked.

“He’s infatuated with a pretty student, why else would he stay?”

“Drake has a crush on Bobbi?”

Syren was absolutely confronting him about that later.

“I have answered a question from each of you,” Shifter said, “If you want more, you’ll have to bargain.” she pointedly looked at Sarah.

There was clearly a silent conversation going between the two.

“Fine,” Sarah said, hands in the air, “Three more answers for being set free.”

Bone grew out of both demons’ right knuckles, jutting out like spurs. Sarah removed the daggers, pushing them up her right sleeve.

“What will happen once you tell your leader Charmer is here?” Thoth asked.

“I do not know. The subject hasn’t come up in over a century. I suspect Ripper will have a score to settle.”

“Who—” Sarah covered Syren’s mouth.

“I will answer that later.”

“Always were a clever one,” Shifter said.

“What is the Court of the Dragon planning with regards to Drake?” Syren asked. She got an approving nod from the adults.

“He is their prince. They want him returned. Apparently there is no suitable alternative.”

“Are the Demons the only party allied with The Court?” Sarah asked.

“No.”

With the final answer, Shifter turned away, but turned back.

“One more thing, what you really want to know, young Charmer. The Slayer is alive, and he is after you.”

Sarah took a step back, but nodded.

Shifter left them.

“What happens now?” Syren asked.

“Now we explain what happened to everyone else,” Thoth answered.

“They’re about to feel so stupid.”

The Monster lay in the alleyway, trying to sleep. He ignored the gentlemen complaining to the ladies of the night about the presence of a bum in the alleyway.

“That’s just Frank,” the women would say, “He doesn’t care.”

The men always did. True to description, The Monster didn’t care.

“And stay away!” a woman yelled in French as she threw three men out the side door. The monster bothered to stare at the woman speaking in his native tongue.

She was not small, with broad shoulders and deep red hair like none the Monster had ever seen.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked as he stared. She sounded just like…

“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry.”

The woman came to his side, lifting him with surprising ease.

“You may call me that if you wish. Let’s get you into something warm.”