“We convinced her to move to plastic and silicone containers in the 90’s,” Glenda whispers conspiratorially. “You wouldn’t have believed the mess when she used glass.”
I nod. Apparently some things remain the same no matter what community you are in. Glass still shatters, cats still enjoy knocking shit over. It’s comforting.
Fortuna leaps to the next bookcase and does the same thing until there is a small pile of bottles and capsules on the floor at our feet. She jumps down gracefully and lands next to Glenda. The black cat takes a moment to rub against Glenda’s shins before stalking off to the big wide counter.
“Here, grab a couple of these, will you?” Glenda is scooping up the bottles and hurrying after Fortuna. I grab the rest of them, trying not to gag when I pick up a bottle labeled, “Pickled Bat Guano.”
Ew. I am not drinking or consuming anything with bat shit in it. That would be...batshit crazy.
Glenda lines up all the bottles on the counter, facing the labels towards Fortuna who stalks back and forth in front of them, motioning occasionally with her paw for Glenda to remove an ingredient or two. My finger still hurts and I have no idea what we are doing, so I let my mind wander.
The smell of sulfur and smoke brings my attention back, and I am horrified to see that Fortuna appears to be on fire and her eyes are no longer purple but a brilliant red, almost the color of molten lava. Smoke is literally coming out of her ears.
I don’t know what to do. From Glenda’s unconcerned look, this is normal for her, but I have never seen a cat set itself on fire and turn into a ... demon? I don’t know what Fortuna is, but it’s clear that she’s not a normal cat.
The flames change color, cycling through the spectrum, and when they turn a deep blue, Fortuna nods at Glenda who starts dumping the ingredients into a small pile on the counter next to the flames. When all the ingredients are assembled, Fortuna simply bats her fire-wreathed paw through it and the whole thing explodes in a series of mini fireworks. It’s the freakiest and most mesmerizing thing I have ever seen. I still have no idea why we’re doing it, but I could probably watch it happen for hours.
Glenda and Fortuna seem very excited by the results and curiosity makes me lean closer to get a look. Sitting in the aftermath of the HellKitty Lava-Based Science Experiment is an intricate gold ring. It is woven with five distinct lines, all tied into an infinity knot with an oak leaf in the center.
“You are abundantly blessed, child,” Glenda breathes, studying the ring and then looking back at me. Fortuna, having divested herself of her flames mews in agreement. Gently, she pushes the ring towards me and looks up expectantly.
I don’t know what to do. Glenda nods encouragingly and I pick the ring up with tentative fingers. It radiates warmth and happiness. I suddenly understand why powerful rings are so enthralling. I never want to let go of this one.
“Slide it on, Ronnie. It is your birthright to wear it,” Glenda whispers, hovering over me with an excited expression.
I pause. Birthright? I’m from Fresno. My parents are incredibly normal. My childhood was magic ring and flaming-feline free.
“Is it going to change me or hurt me in any way?” I ask, suddenly conscious of any magical jewelry given my current situation.
A poof of black smoke erupts out of Fortuna, coating us all in a light film. When the dust settles, a very small, very ancient looking woman is sitting cross-legged on the counter. She is wrapped in a bright purple cloak and her nails are sharpened like talons. This must be Fortuna.
Glenda kneels and presses her forehead to the counter in deference and I awkwardly manage a head bob curtsy thing. I have seen several people shift now and it never gets any less weird or any easier to watch.
“This Gift,” Fortuna-The-Person begins, her voice raspy and thin, “Is a Gift Freely Given from the Summer Court. They wish to honor your status as Chosen by Fate and your connection to Faery. They bid you accept it in good tidings with no conditions attached.”
I stare at her blankly, and for so long that she pokes me with her claw hand.
The small stab of her nail snaps me out of my trance and I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m sorry. Did you say Faery? As in Fae? Summer Court/Winter Court, Seelie/Unseelie, all that? I’m connected to that?” I ask her incredulously, eyeballing the ring in my palm with new apprehension and admiration.
“Everything I’ve ever read says you should never, ever accept gifts from the Fae because then you owe them favors,” I start, stopping immediately at the thunderous look on Fortuna’s face.
“Did I stutter? Do you not understand me?” Fortuna roars, her eyes glowing red again.
Glenda puts her hand on me again and we both take a step back. “Ronnie dear, Fortuna is a Portal Oracle. She communicates through planes and brings messages back. She would not give you a Gift that would harm you or have conditions or loopholes. She read you. Somewhere in your ancestry is a connection to the Summer Court. It’s why you are able to be chosen by Fate for the Matestone, and by the Queen of the Fae to wear her
