“Metha is really Trihalo and Trihalo is really Metha? Which one has the magic?” Dru asked.
“This one,” Boris and Cat pointed in unison at the scratched and bleeding twin in their midst: Trihalo, known up until recently as Metha.
The air shimmered around each of the twins as the magic dissipated, returning them to their real states.
The werecat leapt onto the true Trihalo’s shoulder. The jewels began to pulse from their spot in the werecat’s belt pouch.
Seraphina scowled to see them allied. “Do you think that your power is greater than mine when you are as one?”
“That’s right, sister,” the werecat growled.
“Thanks for the jewels,” Trihalo said. “It was really convenient for you to put them out like Ruffles and onion dip.
“Though I prefer Meow Mix,” the werecat said.
“Only for irony, though,” Trihalo replied, and they both snickered.
Dru and Boris groaned.
Elietan poured another mug of mead. “My money was on the Green-haired half Pixie this whole time.”
“If you could let us out, Seraphina,” Boris said, “You’d have my eternal gratitude.
Seraphina grinned. “Does that include a favor?”
“Five,” Boris said suggestively.
“Well then.” The sorceress waved her hands. Boris headed out.
Ba-rrrring. Gon-gggg. His head hit the enclosure and he fell back.
The invisible enclosure was still there. “Cripes!” The sorceress tried again. Still it was there.
“Sorry,” Prince Samuel said, knocking the invisible barrier with the hilt of his sword. “I’ve captured you all in here as court entertainment. When I was hitting this before, I was just finishing the spell. Now you’re trapped. It’s like TV, watching you guys, though way more confusing. But that’s okay.
“Whaaa?” Dru said.
“Hell with that,” the werecat said. “We have jewels and magic!”
“Errr.” The prince scratched his head. “The enclosure should hold. I think. It’s totally impenetrable.”
“How will we breathe?” Dru asked.
“There’s an air hole that’s ten yards above your head,” the prince said.
“Too bad we don’t have jewels and magic to let us turn into a flock of seagulls and fly out the hole at the top,” Trihalo said. “Oh, wait, we do!!”
“But …” the prince bit his lip.
“I’ve always dreamed of being a seagull,” Trihalo said.
“I’m more the hawk type,” the werecat said.
“Can I be a crow?” Boris asked.
“Wait, I’m a pterodactyl!” Metha said.
“Crap, I want to be a pterodactyl, too!” the werecat said.
As it turned out, all assembled had, at some point, wished to be pterodactyls. They decided to use the magic and jewels to become a badass flock of pterodactyls. “We are totally going to go wilding,” Elietan said, screeching and flapping his arms in anticipation of being a prehistoric bird.
Prince Samuel frowned. “I’ve always wanted to be a pterodactyl, too!” He folded his arms. “I used to have them in my dinosaur set. Can I be one, too?”
The group laughed at the prince. “Too damn bad!” shouted the werecat. “Mess with the cat, you get the pterodactyl claw.”
“We are going to have some major fun now!” Boris yelled.
The prince sat on a stump, forlorn. He cut a lonely figure, there in the darkness outside the place.
Suddenly, the clouds above began to roil, and lightning flashed, and a chariot descended bearing a bearded angry Zeus. He pointed a finger at the werecat, still on Trihalo’s shoulder. “You will let the prince be a pterodactyl as well. It is decided.” The clouds opened back up and the chariot went away.
Seraphina narrowed her eyes at the prince.
“Whatever,” the werecat said. And with that, they all began to transform into fierce dinobirds, and thus began the age of saw and stone.