it. Then I warily look around, hoping none of them actually heard that. The last thing I need is to get brained by something as I trudge down the stairs in search of a familiar like a good little Osteomancer is supposed to do.
I rub at my eyes with my palms and groan pitifully. I’m seriously going to suck at this so bad. Maybe the bones chose me purely for amusement. Maybe the ones who have gone before me were in need of a little pick-me-up, and it’s all about to happen at my expense.
A moth dive-bombs me, and I swat at it and squeal, ducking and tripping down the last couple of steps. Bastard bugs. Oh god, please don’t let my familiar be a moth—or worse, a ferret. I have a hard enough time finding decent guys without a pet that smells like piss following me around all the time.
“No goldfish!” I shout out like I’m beating my ancestors to the potential comedic punch.
A man gives a scared yelp, which makes me scream because I didn’t see him rounding the corner. I watch as the shrimp scampi I was looking forward to goes flying out of the bag clutched in the startled delivery driver’s hand. Its trajectory arcs up for a moment before it plummets to the ground, breaking open to spill its delicious contents all over the sidewalk. A piece of shrimp lands on the toe of my boot, and I look down and stare at the mess while the delivery guy groans and starts to rant at me.
I sigh, open my food delivery app, and tip him twenty bucks before walking away without a word. Yep, that about sums up my life. Now off to find a familiar that I hope like hell isn’t a shrimp or any other kind of crustacean.
“Where are you?” Tad asks me, judgment oozing from his tone as he answers my call.
“Where do you think I am? I’m at a shelter, working on step number two. The problem is that I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do after I find it,” I confess to my cousin as I walk slowly down the line of plexiglass-enclosed cages that are filled with various cats.
“Where’s your guide book?”
“At home. Can you please just get yours and tell me what the hell I’m supposed to be doing?” I plead, hoping my desperation will motivate him to be fast about it.
“Why is it at home?” Tad asks instead as I give an orange tabby that’s giving me the stink eye a wide berth.
“Well, after being magically tazed when I sealed the bones to me, I was kinda in a hurry and forgot it. Can you please just remind me what it says about familiars?” I beg, and I can practically feel the head shake Tad is doing on the other end of the line.
The distinct sound of him clomping up the stairs to his room has me releasing a relieved exhale. I knew I would be bad at this, but my level of suckage is surprising even me. I need to up my ginkgo biloba because I’m struggling to recall any of the things that have been hammered into me since practically birth. I forgot that I even owned a book that details what to do if this ever happens, that’s how bad I am at this.
I wait patiently as I hear Tad rustling around on the other end of the phone, and lean in closer to an adorable calico kitten that’s lapping up water from a stainless steel bowl. I smile and swallow down the awww that I’m just about to voice when the kitten looks up at me and immediately arcs its back and hisses. Every hair on the kitten fluffs out to stand on end, like each individual follicle is offended by my presence, and I quickly back away from the angry little fur ball.
Sheesh.
“Okay, I’m paraphrasing here,” Tad starts. “But it pretty much just says that you need one, it can be any living thing, and you’ll get all tingly when you find a good fit for you,” Tad tells me, and I can hear the flipping of pages as he scans his guide book for any more useful information. “Yep, that’s it aside from the incantation to bind a familiar.”
Words and their cadence pop into my mind unbidden, and I immediately recognize the very incantation he just mentioned. Weird. Maybe my brain is just rusty and not useless like I thought.