Becoming Magical [2]

C H A P T E R - 1

"I still can't believe we're tracking Bigfoot," Sophie whispered as she stared at the giant footprint in the muddy soil. Each massive toe was as wide as her arm, and the print formed a deep, mucky puddle.

Dex laughed, flashing two perfect dimples as he stood on his tiptoes to examine a scuff in the bark of a nearby tree. "Do humans really think there's a giant hairy ape-man running around trying to eat them?"

Sophie turned away, pulling her blond hair around her face to hide her flushing cheeks. "Pretty crazy, right?"

Almost a year had passed since she'd found out she was an elf and moved to the Lost Cities, but she still slipped sometimes and sounded like a human. She knew sasquatch were really just tall green shaggy creatures with beady eyes and beaklike noses—she'd even worked with them in the pastures at Havenfield, the enormous estate and animal preserve she now called home. But a lifetime of human teaching was difficult to forget. Especially with a photographic memory.

Thunder cracked overhead and Sophie jumped.

"I don't like this place," Dex mumbled, his periwinkle eyes scanning the tree line as he moved closer to Sophie. The damp, heavy air made his light blue tunic stick to his skinny arms, and his gray pants were caked with mud. "Let's find this thing and get out of here."

Sophie agreed. The murky forest was so dense and wild. It felt like a place time had forgotten.

The thick ferns in front of them rustled and a brawny gray arm grabbed Sophie from behind. Her feet dangled above the ground, and she got a face full of musky goblin sweat as her bare-chested bodyguard shoved Dex behind him, drew his curved sword from the scabbard at his side, and pointed it at the tall blond elf in a dark green tunic who stumbled out of the wall of leaves.

"Easy there, Sandor," Grady said, backing away from the glinting point of the black blade. "It's just me."

"Sorry." Sandor's high-pitched voice always reminded Sophie of a chipmunk. He dipped a slight bow as he lowered his weapon. "I didn't recognize your scent."

"That's probably because I just spent twenty minutes crawling around a sasquatch den." Grady sniffed his sleeve and coughed. "Whew—Edaline is not going to be happy with me when I get home."

Dex laughed, but Sophie was too busy trying to wriggle free from Sandor's viselike hold.

"You can put me down now!" As soon as her feet touched the ground she huffed away, glaring at Sandor and struggling to remove the giant wedgie he'd given her. "Any sign of the sasquatch?"

"The den's been empty for a while. And I'm guessing you guys haven't had much luck picking up the trail?"

Dex pointed to the scratch he'd been examining in the bark. "Looks like it climbed this tree and traveled in the branches from here on out. No way to tell which way it went."

Sandor sniffed the air with his wide, flat nose. "I should take Miss Foster home. She's been in the open for far too long."

"I'm fine! We're in the middle of a forest and no one besides the Council knows we're here. You didn't even have to come."

"I go where you go," Sandor said firmly, sheathing his sword and running his hands down the pockets lining his black military-style pants to check his other weapons. "I take my charge very seriously."

"Obviously," Sophie grumbled. She knew Sandor was only trying to protect her, but she hated having him around. He was a seven-foot-tall constant reminder that the kidnappers she, Meredith and Dex had narrowly escaped were still out there somewhere, waiting for the right time to make their next move. . . .