Author’s Note: “The Enigma Person” the novel before this, is still in progress but on hiatus as my collaborator is far away without internet access for a few weeks. Without writing I go mad, though, so I’ve started this and will leave it temporarily when EP is up and running again.

To most people, driving a car through Guam while leading thousands of brown tree snakes down the highway would occur only in a hallucination. The additional detail of a twenty-one year old driver sharing the car with a 7-foot boa constrictor would clinch it.

Opal looked a little like a hallucination herself: stringy black hair that hung around her face, a gangly figure, and skin that seemed to always be flaking off. She only ironed her church clothes. On weekdays such as this she favored sweat pants, a green or gray t-shirt, and a thin layer of grease and dirt.

“Making the world a better place, huh, Connie?” Opal murmured, scratching the boa. “There’s the collection point.”

She drove towards the docks, where dozens of tables, scores of crates, and hundreds of volunteers waited for her. When she parked, she beckoned to Connie, who wrapped herself around Opal’s waist and shoulders. As she strode from the car, the tree snakes slithered up the tables and into the crates, which the humans packed as soon as they were full.

A government dignitary, middle-aged and portly, approached Opal. “The people of Guam would like to thank you for ridding us of this invasive species. The government has decided you are entitled to some compensation.”

Opal shrugged. “It was fun. And it’s my birthday present to my sister.”

He smiled. “Give your sister our good wishes. In any case, you must have living expenses…”

He handed her a check, but looked confused when Opal not only read it, but inspected it from different angles and held it up to the light. “Just making sure nobody’s trying to exploit me,” she explained. “This is too much money. Write another one that gives me twenty percent, and donate the rest to environmental protection in your country.”

“Certainly –“

Opal shook her head. “You’re lying. You want to take that money for yourself as soon as I’m gone.”

“What?” His face reddened. “Your accusation is totally unjustified.”

“Don’t give me that. I’m a Jangoral. I know these things. You are going to give this money to environmental protection. I am going to keep track of where the money goes. If it gets lost along the way in graft of any sort, you will be finding coral snakes in your bathtub for the rest of your life.” Opal extended a hand. “Shake on it?”

The man joined the ranks of the many people whom Opal had reduced to jelly. He stared at the hand, which was scaly and dry, like a human version of snake skin. This made him hesitate.

Opal glowered. “You think I’m disgusting or something?”

“No! No! Not at all!” He shook hands, affecting a very fake smile. “The snakes will be shipped to their native countries, though we may have to cull some.”

“That’s acceptable. But they must be well treated.”

“They will be well treated.”

“I would know if they weren’t.”

Opal, could you stop giving people the third degree already? Her sister’s telepathic voice always felt soft and fluffy.

Opal’s thoughts shot back like a striking cobra. Amaranth, he was going to do bad things with the money.

Well, you don’t need to alienate everyone on the face of the planet. Thank you for the birthday present, though.

You’re welcome. No more alien snakes eating the defenseless birds you love so much.

Amaranth Jangoral broke contact and began to prepare for the day. She liked bright, warm colors. Today she wore a dress of amber and cerulean, plaiting her hair in a French braid and tying it with Confidence ribbons she made herself. Everyone in the family had their specialties, and after the birds, Amaranth’s was emotion handicrafts. She could infuse the things she sewed, crocheted, or knitted with a certain feeling, and whoever wore those articles would have those emotions.

Having applied makeup, she checked her iPhone – a battered old thing, obsolete two years ago – to see if Luther had sent her any more messages. Yes, he had, a brief note: Running out of your emotion shawls. Do you think you could make any more and mail them to me? They’re Yarns’ most popular item, even more than all the books.

Amaranth smiled and sent a kissing emoticon, and the words, Got three more for you, darling. I’ll FedEx them.

Funny that her father was a magical entrepreneur, and so was her fiancé, though all the magic in his place came from her. The store was just across from Dad’s pet shop, too. Just three more months and she would have shares in both.

She stepped out of the five-star hotel bedroom, catching a glimpse of her sleek brown hair, large doe-like eyes, and delicate poise on her way out. Bellboys gave her deep wais, the palm-press and bow of greeting and respect, and security held back Thai paparazzi. She smiled for the photos, and then opened a window, blowing a whistle.

A peregrine falcon dove in and onto her shoulder in a cloud of brown-and-cream wings. Amaranth rewarded Vivian with some beef jerky as people oohed and ahhed. Vivian rode with her as she swept into a van just outside the lobby. With passable English, the driver asked if she could do an autograph for his daughter, who idolized her.

“Dai, kha,” (polite can do) she said in one of her few Thai phrases.

He chuckled. “Your Thai very good!”

He doesn’t know that I’m the one feeding you the translations. I find that amusing.

Hi, Mom. Thanks for staying awake to help me out.

If Amaranth associated with birds and Opal with reptiles – she could control lizards and turtles as well – their mother, Taylor, would be a rabbit. Not a fluffy bunny, but the noble lapines of Watership Down, a survivor with ingenuity and courage.

Lacking Jangoral blood, however, she had no power over any animals. Instead, she was psychic in ways the girls and their father could never achieve. She alone could go into nuclear family member’s minds whether given permission or not, even to the extent of possessing them, and into other people’s minds at all. Also, and more importantly at this point, she spoke Thai.

Amaranth reached the building where she – or her mother in her skin – was about to give a fundraising speech for protection of Thai wildlife, particularly birds, and most especially hornbills. She moved her mind aside and let Taylor take the driver’s seat.

There were maybe two thousand people in the audience, with banners in Thai and pictures of birds. Amaranth was doing this with the Pilai Poonswad Memorial Foundation, which worked to continue the efforts of a great parisitologist who fought for the hornbills.

Instead of going on two-year proselytizing missions, as was usual in the Jangorals’ faith, Opal and Amaranth decided to do a humanitarian and environmental protection tour. They had used their powers to fight straightforward evil before, but they realized that involved using the animals for their own purposes instead of helping the animals. Besides, the world already had plenty of police to deal with crime, and supervillains are much rarer than comic books would have you believe.

Amaranth reflected on this while Taylor gave the speech, since Amaranth had no idea what her mother was saying and she didn’t have time to ask. The crowd loved it, though. At the end, Taylor moved to backseat again and Amaranth controlled the birds that had just been released from cages in a dazzling show of color and song.

I think I’ll go to bed, dear.

All right, Mom. Thanks. Got any premonitions of danger?

I keep seeing your father unconscious, but he has the flu, so it’s not altogether unexpected.

Is it BIRD flu?

A mental laugh met this. Well, Opal did catch that skin disease from the snakes. But I think it’s just the run-of-the-mill flu. He refuses to leave the store and sleeps in the back room. I will have to leave him to his own devices tonight because I’m having a girls’ night out with Joy and Dianne.

He’ll be fine. Amaranth headed off to a charity luncheon, with more people asking for autographs and photos. If anyone tries to rob the store, they’ll have all the pets attacking them at once. Is the Dust Bunny being good?

That’s the best gift anyone ever gave me, Ranthy. Have you got a patent for it yet?

Yes. When I get home I’m going to try and make more.

Goodnight.

After the luncheon, Amaranth went walking in Bangkok’s pet market and promptly confiscated the birds on charges of animal cruelty, setting them all free from their cramped, blisteringly hot cages. The other animals she turned over to local animal-protection agencies, which came when she called the special hotline they had for her. As the world’s only CITES law enforcer/ orthinologist / superhero, she was allowed to do such things.

She walked alone, leaving the driver with the van and calling him on her iPhone whenever and wherever she needed him, with Vivian acting as bodyguard. She had a lot of fans, but where there are fans, there are stalkers. Most males got off her case when she told them about her fiancé and showed them his picture.

She said “males”, and not “men”, because not all of them were human. Since the Fantasy Coup when she and Opal were children, magical sentient beings, or Magics, were willing to show themselves. Usually this was a good thing.

“Amaranth! I love you!” a bright pink male with tusks shouted, flinging himself at her. He had feathery wings stretching from his arms to his sides, like the gliding skin of flying squirrels, so he could fling himself fairly far.

Amaranth tilted her head in his direction, and Vivian charged him, scratching at his face with her sharp talons. He swiftly glided away, screaming.

Realizing a few dozen people were recording this on phones, Amaranth sighed and called Vivian back. She extracted a wipe from her purse and cleaned the blood off Vivian’s feet before allowing her to sit on her shoulder again. “It’s not often you see a garuda, is it?” she remarked to no one in particular. Before the Fantasy Coup, everyone thought garudas where just a Southeast Asian myth. Now everyone knew they had been wearing heavy makeup and keeping their wings folded to pass as human. Undoubtedly some still did.

Random strangers insisted on buying Amaranth dinner, and her inborn Jangoral-sense told her who was friend and who was foe. A nice young businesswoman named ChookChik ended up treating her to a full Thai meal, asking only that Amaranth come meet her little sister the next day. The sister possessed t-shirts, games, and dolls all based on Amaranth (proceeds all going to charity) and wanted to be just like Amaranth when she grew up.

“Does anyone want to be just like Opal when she grows up?” Amaranth asked ChookChik.

ChookChik giggled. “Would you want to be her?”

“She is a bit off-putting, but she’s a good person.”

“She is a little scary to people, I believe.”

I heard that, came Opal’s thoughts.

Amaranth sighed and slumped on the table. ChookChik asked what was wrong. “A long day,” Amaranth replied. She sent Vivian off to relieve herself in a wastebasket, as she knew Vivian needed it. Do you want me to lie to you and sugarcoat your public image, Opalescent?

You could stop agreeing with people about it. Do you know how hard I try?

Amaranth chewed on some papaya salad. I’m sure if they knew you were autistic they might temper their criticism –

NO! They think I’m enough of a freak already. It didn’t bother me when I was a kid, ‘cause I had you and Mom and Dad and the other families where everyone was a freak. And these days, you’re super-uber-celebrity, and everyone wants your phone number and tells me out sweet and pretty you are. When you vomit – if you ever vomit – I bet it’s smooth and purple with little silver sparkles.

Gagging on her food, Amaranth thought back, I’m trying to eat here! And sustain a normal, adult conversation, which for all your brilliance you often cannot muster.

Then a third thought pattern broke in, one filled with rage and pain, flailing about. Images of masked men with hi-tech weaponry, and a hypodermic needle, accompanied the scream. AHHHHHHHHHHELPTHEPETSTHEPETS

Huh? thought Opal.

Huh? thought Amaranth.

Opal continued, That sounded like Dad.

Who could hurt Dad? He’s like the most powerful Magics on the planet.

“Excuse me a moment. I need to use the restroom,” Amaranth told ChookChik, giving her a wai. She silently called Vivian back. She needed security. After washing her face, she told Opal, We’re more powerful together. Let’s try to contact Dad simultaneously.

Okay.

All was silent.

Let’s try Mom, they thought as one.

Mom broke in first. She must have been sobbing. Girls, girls…

Did something happen to Dad? thought Amaranth.

I just made it to the store. The pets are all dead. They’ve been gassed.

Opal gave a mental gasp of anguish. Even James, John, and Jasper? Those were her favorite corn snakes and milk snakes.

All of them.

Amaranth slowly thought, speaking it aloud as well, What about Dad?

Oh, Heavenly Father, Derrick is gone. Where in the world is Derrick Jangoral?