Chương 18: Practical Magic Solutions

For some reason, we had to wait for a while once we arrived. Still, that gave me time to look around. The stone circle was bigger than it looked from outside. Ancient granite monoliths formed a perfect ring around a flat clearing. It sort of reminded me of Stonehenge. The whole thing was lit by torches. The air hummed with so much mana I could practically chew it. Really? No magic lighting. I had to admit that I was disappointed. Still, it's practical so I have to respect that.

Representatives from several supernatural groups sat on carved stone benches arranged in a smaller circle. Noticing there were no seat cushions, I tried not to frown. I probably didn't need to bother since I doubted any of them would be able to read an expression on a raccoon's face. Kathy and Alder were seated next to each other. A woman with bark-textured skin sat next to a small pale guy who flinched every time the torchlight hit him directly.

Two absolutely gorgeous women with pointed ears whispered to each other in a language that sounded like wind chimes. Pierre set me down and stared. Damn, you're giving men a bad name. Are you a hound dog of a fricking werewolf? As for Shelly, she looked ready to claw out his eyes. I repressed a sigh, not wanting anyone to know that I was jealous because she was being jealous of someone else. Luckily, Tala hopped from Shelly's shoulder to perch next to me, distracting me somewhat.

Her mental voice carried nervous energy. Lots of old power here, kit. Try not to piss anyone off. I didn't even bother responding. Why do people always remind me not to cause problems? I wondered. Do I look like a troublemaker? Instead of saying something snarky, I looked around at the assembled supernatural beings. Most were staring at me with expressions ranging from curiosity to skepticism.

"So, this is cozy," I said. My voice carried farther than expected in the circle. Kathy cleared her throat.

"Welcome, everyone, to the first full gathering in many years. We're here because the mana tide has created new opportunities and new challenges for all our communities." No one said anything. Just silence. She waited a beat, then continued.

"We thought it would be beneficial to share information and discuss potential... collaborations." More silence. I looked around at the assembled faces. Everyone was sitting there like they were in church and afraid to sneeze.

"Anyone want to, you know, actually talk?" I asked. One of the gorgeous fae women shot me a look.

"The young one speaks out of turn."

"The young one is older than he looks," I said.

"And getting impatient with the whole 'sitting in awkward silence' thing." Tala's mental voice carried amusement. There's my kit. Stir the pot. Alder leaned forward.

"Perhaps we could start with current challenges each community is facing." More silence. Oh, my, God. Really? No wonder nothing ever gets done, I thought.

"Seriously?" I said.

"You're all sitting here with problems that have been eating at you for decades, and nobody wants to speak up?" The pale guy shifted uncomfortably.

"It's not... traditional to air grievances so openly."

"Traditional isn't working," I said.

"When's the last time you all got together to actually solve anything?"

"Forty-three years ago," the bark-skinned woman said quietly.

"And how'd that work out?" I asked. Kathy stared at me like she was recalculating something. Shelly had a small smile playing on her lips. Other than that, silence. Damn, am I dealing with sullen teenagers? Where was this silence when I was married? I wondered.

"Right." I stood up on my cushion.

"Okay, I'll go first. I'm Abe. I used to be human. I died and got reincarnated as a raccoon, and apparently inherited some cosmic trickster powers I don't fully understand. My problems include, figuring out how to use a can opener with paws, avoiding being eaten by whatever's been stalking me, and now apparently running supernatural community therapy sessions." A few people actually cracked smiles.

"Anyone else want to share?" I asked.

"Or are we going to sit here all night having a staring contest?" One of the fae women straightened.

"Very well. I am Lyralei of the Summer Court. Our... challenge is demographic sustainability."

"Come again?" I blurted out while my thoughts were, Damn, a political science major huh? Speaking in big, impressive words to say as little as possible. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"We haven't been able to reproduce in decades," she said, color rising in her perfect cheeks.

"The mana levels were too low to sustain pregnancies. Now that the tide has risen..."

"You want to make babies," I said.

"What's the problem?" The other fae woman, this one with silver hair, spoke up.

"We require... genetic diversity. Traditional partnerships within our kind have become... limited."

"You need fresh DNA," I said. They looked scandalized.

"We require unions with mortals. But revealing ourselves to humans for such purposes is... complicated." I blinked.

"Have you tried artificial insemination?" The silence that followed was deafening.

"Excuse me?" Lyralei said.

"Artificial insemination. Medical procedure. Humans do it all the time. You get genetic material from donors. Medical professionals handle the process. No awkward conversations about your pointy ears required." The two fae women stared at me like I'd just suggested they rob a bank.

"You're talking about... medical intervention?" Silver-hair asked.

"Yeah. Doctors, clinics, the whole thing. Completely normal for humans. Anonymous donors, medical supervision, way less messy than trying to seduce random guys at bars." Lyralei's mouth fell open.

"That's... that's brilliant."

"It's practical," I said.

"Why didn't anyone suggest this before?"

"We were... contemplating more traditional methods," she admitted.

"Right. Because magic has been working so well for you." Wow, I thought, talk about one-track minds. The pale guy leaned forward.

"You speak of using human systems for supernatural problems." Apparently, he was hoping I could solve his problem too but wasn't willing to outright ask.

"You got a better idea?" I asked.

"What's your problem?"

"I am Thomm of the Moon-Eyed People," a vertically challenged man with a big beard and blue eyes said.

"We face... integration challenges. Human development has forced us deeper underground. Our traditional work is disappearing. Our young wish to surface, but we have no legal standing in your world." I was about to answer when Tala sent me a mental reminder, Don't you dare call them dwarves. They HATE that, she told me. Also, don't call them 'Little People' either. Good to know, I thought before saying, "Legal standing? You mean like, civil rights?"

"We... exist in the margins. We have no documentation, no recognition, no protections." I started grinning.

"Have you heard of the Americans with Disabilities Act?"

"No." I resisted the impulse to roll my eyes. Instead, I said, "Oh, buddy, do I have good news for you." I hopped down from my cushion and started pacing.

"But let me break this down for you properly, because there's a whole process here." Thomm was leaning forward now, actually interested.

"First, establish yourselves as a peaceful religious minority. Think isolated Amish or off-grid Appalachian communities."

"Like a cult?" Pierre interrupted.

"Like conservative Mennonites or Orthodox Jews, or even Neo-Luddites," I corrected, trying to ignore him, especially since I was speaking to Thomm.

"Isolated community, home births, oral traditions…"

"And this would be... believable?" Thomm asked. I tried not to let myself get annoyed and instead told myself that Thomm was just eager to solve his problem and was not trying to interrupt.

"Yes," I reassured him.

"You don't engage with formal documentation due to spiritual beliefs. More common than you'd think in rural areas."

"Should we call ourselves the Moon-Eyed People or something else?" Thomm asked.

"Go with something not associated with your real past. Give yourselves a name, such as 'The Pale Folk of the Inner Light' or ' Order of the Sacred Raccoon,' something that sounds appropriately mystical but not crazy. Then you start building documentation." Thomm nodded, considering my words. Then he murmured "Order of the Sacred Raccoon... I like it." That gave me a moment of pause and wonder if maybe my sarcastic response was about to get me into trouble, but then the bark-skinned woman asked a question.

"What kind of documentation?" I turned to her, my mind already on the new topic.

"Affidavits from your elders stating when and where kids were born, lineage details, any handmade records you've got. Carved birth records, woven tapestries, whatever looks old and ceremonial. Humans eat that stuff up." I paused for a moment here. Why did I say 'humans' instead of 'people?' I wondered. Was I already thinking of myself as something else? Not human anymore? Ignoring the question, I continued, "Next, you file for delayed birth registration.

Most states allow this if you were born at home under nonstandard circumstances. You present your affidavits, physical evidence, and maybe get help from a social worker who specializes in undocumented populations."

"And the disability aspect?" Thomm asked.

"That's where it gets beautiful," I said, grinning.

"Your light sensitivity, albino features, underground-adapted physiology, all of that qualifies for ADA protections. You're not asking for pity, you're securing rights your kids deserve." I started ticking off benefits on my claws.

"School enrollment with tinted lighting and quiet rooms. Government service protections against discrimination. Modified ID requirements, they can't force you to do standard photography if your eyes can't handle the flash."

"This could actually work," Thomm breathed.

"Oh, it gets better. Once you have delayed birth certificates and guardian affidavits, you can apply for Social Security numbers. Emphasize religious and medical exemptions where needed. If they question you, just say you're from a protected faith-based enclave recently opening to the wider world. Let them assume it's some Ozark commune. Humans love filling in gaps with mystery." Thomm's eyes were wide.

"And this is... legal?"

"Completely. Hell, you could probably get grants for job training programs. The government throws money at integration initiatives. Until then, you can work night shifts at Wal-Mart." Pierre was grinning. I wasn't sure which part he was enjoying the most, but I wasn't about to argue as long as he was happy. However, I was starting to worry. I'd somehow solved a few problems, but I was fairly certain I'd soon be facing problems I had no clue what to do about. It felt like I was just waiting for a shoe to drop.

Things were going too smoothly. I wasn't used to it at all. What worried me was the fact that Alder and a few others looked like they were just waiting their turn to ask me to solve all of their problems. Before I could worry too much, Alder cleared his throat.

"Abe," he said carefully.

"The Moonbound have a problem you might be able to help us with." Oh no, I thought. Here it comes.