High school was hard enough for Lesley Robinson, and that was before she sprouted wings, a tail, and devil horns. She and her witch mother are forced to flee to Misty Hollow, a hidden haven for mythical creatures. As the only half-demon at her new school, Lesley struggles to fit in. Desperate to restore her humanity, she canât help but be tempted when Asmodeus, chief prince of the demons, gives her a magic necklace with the power to turn her human again. But thereâs a catchâit wonât work without the right spell, and he wonât teach Lesley the spell unless she sells him her soul.
High school was hard enough for Lesley Robinson, and that was before she sprouted wings, a tail, and devil horns. She and her witch mother are forced to flee to Misty Hollow, a hidden haven for mythical creatures. As the only half-demon at her new school, Lesley struggles to fit in. Desperate to restore her humanity, she canât help but be tempted when Asmodeus, chief prince of the demons, gives her a magic necklace with the power to turn her human again. But thereâs a catchâit wonât work without the right spell, and he wonât teach Lesley the spell unless she sells him her soul.
This is going to sound crazy, but Iâm only half human.
Shocking, right? It was for me when I first found out. Before that horrible night, I was just an average high school girl. My biggest worries were the kind most teenagers have, like surviving the first week of sophomore year or making new friends.
I stood by my locker, glancing down the hall toward a trio of girls. How was it that no matter what outfits they threw together, they always looked cool? I frowned down at my own clothing. Pink tee shirtâa little faded and definitely nothing fancy. Jeans with holes in the knees, not by choiceâall my jeans were like that. The start of a new school year was a good enough reason to make some new friends. But seeing how much better those girls were dressed, I wasnât so sure. Still, I put on a friendly smile and approached.
âHey,â I said. âI heard you guys were going to the movies tonight. Mind if I come too?â
Their conversation stopped as the three girls turned to me. I tried not to flinch as they scrutinized my thrift store outfit.
Finally, their leader spoke. âSorry, Lesley. Weâve already reserved our seats. It would be kind of a hassle to squeeze you in last minute. You know how it is.â
My smile faded. âOh. Maybe some other time, then.â I turned and trudged away.
Behind me, one of the other girls snickered. âMaybe if her deadbeat dad was still around, poor Lesley could afford some real clothes.â
I meandered through the crowd of students, back to where my friend Phyllis was waiting. Her forehead was dotted with acne despite the pimple cream she used, and her hair seemed even more frizzy than usual.
âRejected?â she asked.
âRejected,â I muttered.
Phyllis tilted her head. âI still donât get why you suddenly want to be friends with them. Youâve got, like, nothing in common.â
I sighed. âIâm sick of being just some loser. Maybe that would change if I were friends with someone cool.â
She offered a smile. âAt least you have another loser for company.â
âYou say that like itâs a good thing.â
Phyllis gasped, pretending to be offended, before we both burst into laughter. âI know what will cheer you up. We should stop at Mrs. McKeeâs after school. Sheâll probably have cookies.â
âHmm, I donât know. My mom doesnât want me visiting her anymore.â But the draw of Mrs. McKeeâs fresh-baked cookies was hard to resist.
***
The bell rang, and students poured out through the schoolâs front entrance. Side by side, Phyllis and I strode along the sidewalk through the neighborhood.
Phyllis sighed. âI canât believe we had to do an algebra quiz today. Itâs still just the first week of school!â
âRight?â I said. âIâm having a quiz in history class tomorrow, andââ I stopped and pointed along the sidewalk. âIs that Mrs. McKeeâs pet ferret?â
A small furry head was peeking around the corner of a house. When he saw me, the white-furred animal came running and huddled against my shins. âAw, did you get lost?â I scooped him up in my arms. âI guess weâre going to Mrs. McKeeâs house after all.â
We headed down the street, and Phyllis knocked on the door of a small cottage. A wrinkled face peered out at us. âPhyllis, Lesley, hello,â Mrs. McKee said. âOh, you found Snowball! Thank goodness. Come in, please, come in.â
Doilies and knick-knacks decorated the living room, and the wonderful smell of cookies baking wafted in from the kitchen. I set Snowball down, and the ferret ran to Mrs. McKee, pawing at her knees. âThere you are, you little rascal,â the white-haired woman said. âI wondered where youâd gotten to.â She winked at him.
I scrunched my brow. Something about the way Mrs. McKee had winked gave me the strangest ideaâthat sheâd actually sent Snowball out on purpose. I shook my head, dismissing the silly notion.
Snowball relaxed, stretching himself out on the floor. Mrs. McKee turned to us. âI was hoping you two would come by today. You especially, Lesley.â She headed into the kitchen.
I followed. âWhy me especially?â I asked.
She pulled a tray of cookies from the oven and set them on the counter. âBecause,â she said, âI sense a great change is upon you.â
Typical Mrs. McKee. She was a bit eccentric and claimed to be a witch. Phyllis and I usually went along with it, letting her read our palms or cast sheepâs teeth like dice to tell our fortunes. âOh, uh, thatâs cool,â I said politely.
âArenât you curious to know more about this change?â the old woman asked.
Not really, I thought. âUm, sure.â
She beckoned me to take a seat at the kitchen table and spread a deck of cards in front of me. They werenât playing cards but tarot cards, each illustrated with a different scene. The imagery was straight out of fairy tales, depicting knights and kings, swords and chalices, dragons and monsters. Mrs. McKee sat across from me and gathered the cards into a neat stack. âThese cards can reveal truths about you and perhaps tell us about this coming change.â She looked me in the eye. âDo you want to know your truth, Lesley?â
I hadnât noticed him climb up, but Snowball was perched on the womanâs shoulder. The ferret watched me with a look just as intense as Mrs. McKeeâs. A weird chill crept through me. âMy truth? Uh, yeah, I guess.â
She drew a card from the top of the deck and laid it in front of me. Mrs. McKee grinned as she looked at the card. âHa! I thought so. Your mother is a witch like me. Thatâs why she didnât want you coming hereâbecause she doesnât want you to find out.â She winked. âBut you didnât hear it from me.â
My mom wasnât a witchâat least, I didnât think she was. Of course, I wouldnât know if she secretly did witchy things like reading palms or consulting tarot cards, but I was pretty sure she didnât. I was too weirded out to say anything, though, so just I watched as Mrs. McKee drew another card and laid it next to the first.
âAh, yes,â she said, nodding gravely. âYour mother is about to return to Misty Hollow, and you will go with her. Perhaps this is the change I sense.â
My jaw dropped. âMisty Hollow! How do you know about that?â
She laughed. âBelieve me now, do you? And you thought I was just some batty old woman.â
Slowly, I shook my head. âI-I must have mentioned my momâs stories to you before. Thatâs how you know about Misty Hollow.â
âRationalize it however you like, dearie. But sooner or later youâll have to accept that the world is different from what you thought.â Mrs. McKee paused. âOh, and when you leave, could you not mention any of this to Phyllis? I cast a spell on her to keep our conversation private, and Iâd like it to stay that way.â
Glancing around, I realized Phyllis wasnât in the kitchen with me. âWhat? Whereâs Phyllis?â
âSheâs perfectly comfortable, I assure you. Eating a few cookies, Iâd bet. Now, where were we?â Mrs. McKee drew a third card.
She paused, her eyes widening as she peered at the last tarot card. Snowball squeaked and scurried away. âWhat is this?â Mrs. McKee murmured. âLesley, you used to have nightmares about demons?â
I almost fell out of my chair. âNo⌠thereâs no way you could know about my nightmares. Iâve never told anyone except my mother.â
âAs I said, the cards reveal truths. But why is the deck showing me that youââ She looked at me. âOh, of course. Now it all makes sense. Thatâs why your father is never around.â Mrs. McKee narrowed her eyes. âLesley, I must ask you to leave.â
âWhat? I donât understandââ
She pointed a bony finger at the door. âLeave, now!â
I scrambled from my seat and, before I knew it, was through the living room and out the front door. I nearly knocked Phyllis over. âOh, thank god, there you are!â
She turned to me. âLesley? Is something wrong?â
âWhat do you mean âis something wrong?â In the kitchen, Mrs. McKee saidââ
âWhat are you talking about? We were with Mrs. McKee in her living room, eating cookies the whole time.â
* * *
I felt awkward trying to convince Phyllis that something strange had happened at Mrs. McKeeâs house, so I gave up. And I never got a chance to take that history test because the very next day, I came down with a terrible fever.
My room was dark except for the sunset glow seeping through the window blinds. My bedsheets lay rumpled around me, and sweat beaded on my forehead. A knock sounded on the door.
âLesley?â my mother called.
âMmfâŚâ I groaned.
My mom came in, carrying a steaming mug. Rugby, a black-and-white border collie, trotted in after her. The dog hopped onto the bed, licking my face sympathetically. I reached up to scratch between his ears.
My mother held out the mug. âI brought you some more tea, sweetie.â
I wrinkled my nose. Sheâd been giving me tea all dayâshe claimed it was some kind of herbal remedy. No amount of arguing had convinced her to give me real medicine. With a sigh, I propped myself up and took the mug in my hands. The hint of honey and cinnamon did nothing to hide the bitterness of whatever else sheâd put in the concoction. Holding my nose, I drank it.
I set the mug aside. âMom, canât you just take me to the doctor?â
For a long moment, she was silent. âIâm sure youâll feel better by tomorrow,â my mother said. âHow is that rash on your back doing?â
I rolled over, allowing my mom to pull aside the straps of my tank top. âIt still itches, and I think itâs spreading.â
âOh, it doesnât look so bad.â The hesitation in her voice told me she was lying.
âAre you sure itâs not getting worse?â I rolled back over and reached up to scratch an itch on my forehead. âMom, seriously, why donât we just go to the doctorââ
She caught my wrist, pulling my hand away from my brow. For an instant, fear flashed in her eyes.
My mother let go of my wrist. âYouâre right, Lesley. If youâre not feeling better by tomorrow, Iâll take you to the doctor.â She took the empty mug and headed to the door. Rugby followed at her side, whimpering up at her. âGoodnight, sweetie,â my mom said, closing the door behind her.
I lay back down but didnât close my eyes. I couldnât stop thinking about the frightened look that had crossed my motherâs face.
* * *
That night, I dreamed of demons. It was the same nightmare as from when I was littleâthe nightmare Iâd never told anyone about except my mom. In the dream, demons surrounded me. Their hair was oily and matted, their skin red and slick with slime. Horns jutted from their brows, and their eyes burned with fire. The demons jeered and cackled as they grasped me with cold, clammy hands, their claws pricking my skin. I struggled against them, crying and screaming for my mother, but the demons wouldnât let go.
I gasped, opening my eyes. âJust a dream,â I told myself. âIt was just a dream.â Iâd thrown off my bedsheets, and my pajamas were soaked with sweat. My forehead itched like crazy, and the rash on my back felt like it was on fire. I sat up, reaching around to rub my back, and shuddered. The skin between my shoulders was covered in blisters. I pulled my hand away, hoping the warm, sticky feeling on my fingertips was just sweat and not blood. With my other hand, I reached up to scratch my itching forehead.
I felt something there and screamed. I leaped out of bed, dashing down the hall to the bathroom. I flicked on the light and screamed again when I saw my face in the mirrorâsaw the blood trickling from my blistered brow, saw what was emerging.
âIâm still dreaming,â I told myself. âI have to still be dreaming!â
But it didnât feel like a dream this time.
My mom burst into the room. âLesley?â Her eyes went wide. âNo!â
The burning across my back turned to sharp, stabbing pain. I peered over my shoulder into the mirror. Between my tank top straps, the blisters on my back were bulging. A jab of pain sent me to my knees. âMom, it hurts! It hurts!â
My mother dashed back into the hall and returned carrying a pouch. She set the bag down on the counter and dug through it. âItâll be okay, sweetie,â she said. But her voice was shaking.
Inside the pouch was a collection of mismatched jars, bottles, and vials filled with powders and liquids. My mom filled a brass bowl with water and sprinkled in the contents of one vial, then another. I hugged myself, holding in another scream as pain clawed at my back. âMom, what are you doing?â
âIâll explain later.â She reached into the pouch and took out a polished wooden rodâwhat looked for all the world like a magic wand. She recited something as she waved the wand over the bowl, and I jumped as the water started boiling. Wisps of steam rose, filling my nostrils with a soothing smell. âBreathe it in,â my mother said. âIt will numb the pain.â
I gasped in the strange vapors, and the pain across my back subsided. I looked in the mirror again. âNo, this has to be a dream.â I pinched myself on the arm. âWake up!â
My mom took my hands in hers, tears glistening in her eyes. âYouâre not dreaming, sweetie.â
I hissed as pain jabbed at my back. âMom, please! Whatâs going on?â
âDo you remember the stories I told you when you were younger, about Misty Hollow?â
I blinked. âBut those were just fairy tales.â
She shook her head. âNo, Lesley. They were true. The fae are real, and⌠and Lesley, you areâŚâ She bit her lip. âI should have prepared you more for this. But I thought I could prevent the transformation. I thought youâd never have to know.â
âMom, please! Whatâs happening to me?â
She hesitated. âLesley, your father, he⌠he was a demon.â
My eyes widened, and I stumbled back as the pain returned. I screamed in horror at my reflection in the mirror as something sprouted through my blistered skin, reaching out from between my shoulder blades.
Life for Lesley, the daughter of a single parent isn't easy. She's never included with the cool kids because she wears hand-me-downs, and apart from her only friend, Phyliss, is lonely. And life only gets more difficult after she sprouts wings, horns and a tail with a wicked point at the end. Her mother uproots their life, and takes them to the Fae haven of Misty Hollow, where she finds out she's a Cambion, the daughter of an incubus demon and a witch; and apparently, something so rare, that she's feared and hated in equal measure for simply existing. When she enrols in the high school there, she soon discovers that the Fae are a mixture of different races who still subscribe to old prejudices of 'Light Fae' and 'Dark Fae'; with the latter being mistrusted and maligned. With a small group of new friends (all of whom are of the 'Dark' variety), she has to learn how to navigate the new, fairy tale world she's found herself in - along with how to accept herself for who she really is.
Only Half Human pulls you into the world of Misty Hollow, and builds up the lore of the magical world using many details from folk tales from around the globe. Wright has clearly done a lot of research into European Mythology, especially with Lesley's Cambion origins, where the first description of one came from William of Auvergne, describing them as 'hideous children born of incubus and succubus demons' (slightly paraphrased). He has taken great lengths to ensure that his lore rings true, with his accurate descriptions of magical rules. That he not only concentrated on the 'classical' European creatures of myth, but included magical beings Asian and African traditions was refreshing. It made for a colourful, bright and interesting cast of characters.
Lesley's character arc was insightful; showing how vulnerable she felt not only when she developed her wings, but when she presented as human was a nice touch. It revealed her desperation to be 'normal', to be 'liked' - even when she asked the popular kids in her human school if she could join them at the movies. She was somewhat ungrateful for her friend, until she lost her after her transformation. This theme continues in the novel, with Lesley seeming to not realise how important her friends are; how much they care - until it's almost too late. She can be frustrating to the reader, as she desperately seeks a way to learn how to hide her demonic features. Her journey of self discovery makes her redeemable; as she understands that who she is is the best she can be. She's neither human nor demon, she's somewhere in between.
S. A