This story by Jaye Michael is incomplete and likely to remain that way since Jaye's health problems prevent her from further work on it. If someone here at BigCloset wishes to finish it, write with Jaye's blessing but please be kind to Jaye's vision of the story as Jaye is being kind to us.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishment, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. The Lanyon Chronicles Copyright © 2000, 2001, 2002, 2011 by Jeffrey M. Mahr. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced In any form without permission.

A serialized version of portions of this novel were first published in TSAT: Transformation Stories, Art and Talk. A web-based electronic magazine at: http://www.cyberium.net/ezine

DEDICATION:

To my family.

They put up with my writing and still love me.

Who could ask for more?

BOOK ONE:

THAUMATURJEKYLL

Chapter One:

Let’s Make Believe

Alas! Too evident, my discoveries were incomplete. Enough, then, that I not only recognized my natural body for the mere aura and effulgence of certain of the powers that made up my spirit, but managed to compound a drug by which these powers should be dethroned from their supremacy, and a second form and countenance substituted, none the less natural to me because they were the expression, and bore the stamp, of lower elements in my soul.

| Robert Louis Stevenson

“Hey Dad. Can I borrow the lab?”

“What was that, son?” Dr. Herbert Lanyon the Third took a moment to glance up from his research journal to see his son, Herbert Lanyon the Fourth, or “Hastie” as his friends called him. He was not surprised to find Jack Utterson standing beside his son. The boys had been inseparable since birth, even being born minutes apart.

“I asked if I could borrow the lab.”

“What for?”

“Nothin’ special.” Hastie spoke with a light, unconcerned tone, but his eyes never made it to his father’s and his foot kept scuffing at a spot on the plush carpet that only he seemed able to see.

“You know the lab’s not a game room son. Just remember our agreement. You have to replace whatever you blow up.”

“Of course,” Hastie grumped while Jack turned away and laughed into the back of his hand, but Hastie made sure the rest of his words were mumbled quietly enough that only Jack overheard. “Pop, you’re such a stick in the mud.”

“Very well then, son, but I need it again later this evening so remember to clean up after yourself. Oh, and don’t touch the TSP device.” Dr. Lanyon’s attention returned to his journal as the two teens left, jostling each other good-naturedly.

Hastie was always disappointed that the lab was not in the corner of some dark, dank, dungeon with crumbling, moss covered stone walls and assorted parts of strange devices. In actuality, it was the spare bedroom of the Lanyon’s suburban home and, while there was a table in the center of the room with a Bunsen burner, some chemical compounds and some flasks of different sizes, the walls were mostly bookcases and assorted family memorabilia covering the last century or so. It was the closet that held most of the lab equipment when not in use and it was a big closet, stocked to the brim with enough gadgets and doodads to make your average mad scientist at least as happy and content as a large injection of an antipsychotic medication.

“So what do you want to do?” Jack asked as he dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs by the far corner of the room and let his feet dangle over the armrest while Hastie prowled about the room, poking through the books.

“I want a really great costume for the Halloween dance. That’s what I want.”

“So why aren’t we at the mall or something?” Jack was confused. “I don’t see anything like a costume out here. Have you looked in the closet?”

“What I’m lookin’ for isn’t in the closet.” He kept browsing. “How about some help. Move that chair over here so I can check the top shelves.”

Jack sighed and started to unwind from his comfortable position when Hastie impatiently climbed onto the table and stood up. A moment later he was shouting.

“There! There is it.” Hastie shouted as he pointed to the other corner of the room. “Push the table over there.”

“I’m not moving you while you’re on the table, you dope. You’ll kill yourself. Get down and I’ll move it.”

“Alright already,” Hastie complained as he got down. “Sheesh. You’re so darn cautious. I don’t think you’ve ever taken a real risk, have you?”

“Sure I take risks,” Jack laughed as he moved the table. “I take risks every day. After all, I have you for a friend and that’s risk enough. Now when are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”

“All in good time, Igor,” Hastie responded with an abominable accent. “All in good time.”

Hastie yanked on a large old leather bound book until it finally came loose from its place on the top shelf. Only Jack’s hand on his back prevented a fall.

Ignoring his friend’s sarcastic, “You’re welcome,” Hastie jumped down, placed the book on the lab table and flipped through the last few pages until he found what he was looking for.

“This is what I was lookin’ for.” He danced jubilantly about the room grabbing his friend and leading him in an impromptu waltz.

“’This’ is what?” Jacked pushed away and straightened his clothes as he muttered to himself, then demanded again more loudly, “What is it already?”

“It’s my great grandfather’s formula...well, actually it’s the formula my great grandfather got from his best friend. I forget the guy’s name, but it’s at the beginnin’ of the journal, and anyway that’s not what’s important now.”

“So what is?” Jack tried peering over his friend’s shoulder but was having trouble making words of the cramped handwriting in the journal.

“This is the formula, modified by my great grandfather, for changin’ people into someone else. As I remember the story, the first formula didn’t work, but great grandpa fixed it. We’ve had this sitting here for ages because no one in the family wanted to try it out.” Hastie finaly paused for a breath.

“So this...this formula has never been tested?” Jack was incredulous. “I’m outta here. Are you going to join me at the mall, or what?”

“Relax,” Hastie smirked. “Don’t be such a ‘worry wart.’ I’m not gonna make you take any risks. You can watch me...and after it works for me, you can try it, if you’re not too chicken, that is.”

“I’m not a chicken, darn you. I’ve got more tackles than anyone in the league. If it weren’t for me, think how many times you would have been chopped meat, Mr. All-State Quarterback. I just don’t think this stuff will work and we still need costumes. There’s only two days left before the dance.”

“Tell you what. You hit the mall. See what you can find in the way of decent costumes. I’ll pull this together. Pop usually has enough ingredients in stock here for just about anythin’. Let’s meet back here tomorrow after practice, okay?” As usual, he didn’t wait for an answer, but began reading and muttering as he tried to decipher the handwriting. Jack watched him for a moment, then just shook his head and left. Sometimes he wondered why they stayed friends.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Man! I hate wind sprints.” The two friends were still breathing hard as they walked to Hastie’s car after practice.

“Yeah. That was one hellacious practice.” Jack agreed as he slumped into the passenger seat of Hastie’s hand-me-down Mom-mobile. “I’m beat.”

Hastie just groaned his agreement as he started the car and headed for home. Neither boy had the energy to reach out and turn on the radio and the silence quickly became uncomfortable.

“So what did you find at the mall?”

“Not a lot.” Jack gently rubbed at a newly earned bruise on his upper thigh. “The department stores only had kid stuff left. The novelty stores had stuff for adults, but who wants to be Richard Nixon or a wolfman.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being a wolfman, but we did agree to get something different|and something we could both do together. Besides, who every heard of a blonde wolf?” Hastie asked as he rubbed his friend’s military cut hair. He always wore it so short, it looked like peach fuzz.

“There was this one store...”

“Yeah? Give.”

“It was kind of strange|called ‘The Witch’s Familiar.’”

“So? What did they have?”

“Well, they had a lot of junky looking stuff. At first, I thought it was another variety store, like ‘Spooner Gifts.’ They had a couple of racks of costumes, but I never really got to see them.”

“Huh? You couldn’t walk to whatever corner of the store they were in?”

“No, wise one. This weird old guy with a scraggily white beard and a ratty robe covered with even weirder designs came out of the back room before I was more than a few feet into the store and stopped me.”

“A big strong guy like you was stopped by an old guy in a bathrobe?” Hastie smirked. “Extra! Extra! Read all about it. Big, hulkin’ center stopped in his tracks by an old fossil.”

“Cut it out,” Jack snarled in annoyance. “I stopped because I didn’t want to be arrested for murder. That guy was so frail looking I was afraid I’d kill him if I touched him. You know, Hastie, sometimes you can be a real pain.”

“Sorry, guy. It just struck me as funny.” He stretched forward and turned on the radio and they rode in strained silence until arriving at Hastie’s house where they automatically sprawled out in comfortable positions in the den. Hastie grabbed the remote and started surfing channels on the television.

“So what did you come up with?”

“Huh?” Hastie stopped changing channels. It was one of those Schwarzenkattzen flicks.

“I said, what did you come up with?”

“I think it’s ‘Revenge of Selene.’ You know, the sword and sorcery flick with that blonde actress who married that other guy, Stallion or something.”

“I meant for costumes,” Jack didn’t quite snarl, but he made it clear he still wasn’t happy with Hastie’s comments on the way home about his unmacho behavior at that weird store. For once, Hastie, intellectual genius but emotional ignoramus that he was, caught on and did his best to give a simple, straightforward, no nonsense answer.

“Oh. Yeah, I made up a bunch of doses of the formula. It’s up in the lab. Come on.” He jumped from his chair and jogged up to the lab leaving Jack to decide whether to let Arnie entertain a soon to be empty room.

Jack sighed and turned off the television, but not before one last wistful glance at the buxom barbarian babe. He then ran and caught up to Hastie at the door to the lab.

“Whoa up, ‘Boy Blunder.’ You want to fill me in a bit about this formula before we use it?”

“Still don’t trust me, huh? Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck,” Hastie teased as he made flapping movements with his arms.

“Excuse me? Last year? The moon rocket? I remember being hard-of-hearing for a week after it exploded instead of taking off.”

Hastie started to indignantly correct his memory impaired friend’s misunderstanding of the situation, but Jack waved him off and continued in a louder voice so that Hastie’s words were lost in his friend’s tirade.

“Then there was two years ago when you were going to transmute lead into gold based on an old family recipe. I almost lost two fingers when that exploded and splashed acid all over.” He rubbed the still visible scars on his left hand.

“But...”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m on a roll. Every ‘experiment’ you’ve cooked up has resulted in something going wrong, all the way back to when we were seven years old and you made gunpowder but didn’t have any charcoal so you made some charcoal from wood chips and dumped it into the mortar|before the embers had cooled. Once again, ‘BOOM!’

“‘BOOM!’ is the outcome of just about every project we’ve done together, so yeah, I want to preserve my hide and get a bit more information about this formula before using it.” Jack finally wound down and dropped back into the stuffed chair.

Hastie stood, hands on hips, scowling, waiting to see if Jack was really done before responding. “So why are you still here if you feel that way?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Jack spoke with as much sincerity as he’d spoken with anger before, but then his face shown with a gleeful gleam as he continued. “And besides, who else would stick around to save you when things go wrong?”

“Well, nothin’ is going to go wrong this time, damn it. It’s not even my formula.”

“Sure,” Jack sat back down, but he certainly did not sound convinced.

Hastie kept speaking as he jumped back up onto the chair and grabbed a bunch of test tubes from the same high shelf that the book with the formula had been found originally and stuffing as many as he could in various pockets, so he didn’t hear Jack mutter about the formula for gunpowder not being his originally either.

“I did some research.” His pockets were full, but there were still a couple of test tubes in his hand. “The original formula was developed by a physician by the name of Jekyll. He was best friends with my great grandfather, Herbert Lanyon the First, and gramps got the book from Jekyll’s estate.”

“Let’s save the family history. Our families have been close for so long, I probably know it almost as well as you.

“Sorry.” Hastie dropped down into the other stuffed chair. “I gotta tell a bit more, so please bear with me.

“Hastie Lanyon the First, was a doctor also. It bugged him that his very good friend had died so suddenly. He knew it was somehow related to the formula in Jekyll’s journal so he started studying it, looking for a way to make it work. It became an obsession for him, especially alone in his big empty house after his wife died. His children had long since grown up and left for lives of their own and that was an age when servants did NOT spend more time than they had to with their betters.

“Anyway, Hastie the First eventually found out what was wrong with the formula and fixed it. This is the modified formula he created, exactly as he described it. No modifications. No substitutions. None.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, I guess. What does it do?” It was clear from Jack’s tone of voice that he was still leery.

“Damn! Still don’t trust me huh?” Hastie’s confidence had returned as he spoke of things he understood. “Let’s see, how to describe it. Okay, let’s try this. Remember that Chalker book, the one about the truck driver who turned into a barbarian and fought evil in another dimension?” Jack nodded pensively. They both loved Chalker’s books.

“In one of the later books in the series, the barbarian is bitten by a small dog that’s actually a ‘were.’”

“A what?”

“A ‘were.’”

“Where what”?

“Werewolf.”

“I don’t know. I don’t see any wolf.” Jack made exaggerated searching movements as he laughed.

“Right, and who’s on first?”

“Second base.” Now they were both laughing.

“Anyway,” Hastie tried to control his laughter enough to continue. “You darn well know it’s ‘were,’ as in werewolf|like Lon Chaney.”

“Of course. That’s where I heard the name.”

“On a movie marquee?”

“No. The name ‘Jekyll.’ It’s from that book by Robert Lewis Stevenson. That explains why I never heard any discussion of this in our joint family histories. What kind of fantasies have you been spinning for me here?”

“No fantasy.” Hastie glared down at his seated friend. “I told you I needed to give you some history. Let me finish the story already.”

Jack nodded and waited, albeit not that patiently if the rapidly twitching foot was any indication.

“My great grandfather wrote that book under a|whaddya call it|pseudonym. I have copies of the original galley proofs here somewhere if you don’t believe me. Anyway, I told you that he had gotten obsessed. With no family around he also became somethin’ of a recluse. Didn’t go anywhere. Didn’t see anyone. If you remember from your family’s history, our two families almost split about then.”

Jack nodded his reluctant agreement.

“He did try his modified formula once|and then died.”

“Oh great, so now it’s poison you’re selling here?” but Jack was smiling as he spoke.

“No. He had time to report that it worked and how it worked before he was run over by a hansom cab at seventy-six years of age.”

“Okay, so how does it work?”

“For that we go back to that Chalker story we were talkin’ about earlier. The barbarian became a ‘were,’ but not like Lon Chaney.”

“Yeah, I remember. He didn’t become a werewolf, he became a were-anything, what ever he was closest to when he changed.”

“Exactly, and that’s almost how this formula works.”

“Oh oh. Here we go again. What exactly do you mean by ‘almost?’”

“Relax Jack. Your feathers are showing again. The difference is that it’s not what you’re closest to, but what you are thinking of when the change occurs.”

“Side effects? Do I turn purple? Does my nose fall off? Do I have an irresistible urge to walk in front of a hansom cab?”

“Nope. No side effects.”

“Okay, what aren’t you telling me. There’s got to be something. Give.”

“Nothin’ damn it. It changes you into whatever the heck you think of after takin’ the formula. It’s based on Jekyll’s formula, which changed the emotions and then let the emotions, or spirit as Jekyll called it, change the body. Great grandfather reversed it so that the form changed and then the emotions, or spirit, changed to reflect the form.”

“I knew there was a catch,” Jack snapped his fingers. “So if I think of becoming a horse, I become a horse. Then I become convinced that I am a horse. Then I don’t know to change back to me?”

“Wrong. You become a horse and you get the reflexes and instincts of a horse, but keep your intelligence. In effect you become like Mr. Ed.”

“A talking horse?”

“No, but a very smart horse. You might be able to speak a bit, but I’d tend to bet that the vocal cords of a horse would make speech very difficult if not impossible.”

“But how do you know that I would know I could change back or, for that matter, that I would want to change back? Horses aren’t known for wanting to become humans as far as I know.”

“Because that’s what great grandfather turned himself into, a horse. The family had a hell of a time, removing the scuff marks from his hooves the wood flooring so they could sell the estate and move to America. They couldn’t figure out what great grandpa had been doing with a horse inside the house.”

“Okay. Another question. How do you turn back?”

“You take the formula and think about being yourself.”

“How did old Hastie the First find a way to drink the formula if he was a horse?”

“He knocked the bottle with the formula in it off the table and onto the floor. Then he lapped up what spilled and turned back.”

“That means we need to have an easy way to change back. How many bottles of that stuff did you make?”

“Dozens. More than enough for any eventuality. Does that mean that you believe me?”

“No, it means that I’m reserving judgment, although I’m still leaning towards the idea that this is a really elaborate practical joke.”

“When it’s not April Fools Day? Come on Jack, we have a tradition to uphold,” Hastie responded indignantly.

“Fine. It’s not a joke. It works, and we’re going to try it out tonight, two days before the party.”

“You still don’t believe me.”

“Nope. I already told you that. Just assume I do and humor me. What is this going to turn us into for the party? Ideas?”

“Well. I was thinking about something mythical. A satyr or a centaur.”

“Nope.”

“Why not? We both like centaurs.”

“Sure, but they’ll never let us in. Remember your great grandfather’s floors?”

“The precious gym floor or a fantastic costume.” Hastie lifted one hand and then the other as if weighing his options.

“Gym floor wins, huh?” he answered ruefully. “Okay, how about Batman and Robin?”

“Nope. Too common. Care to guess how many cartoon super heroes will be there?”

“Good point. How about rock stars. Old one’s that have been around so that everyone knows them, but as themselves when they were young?”

“Sure. I’ll be George Michaels and you can be Boy George.”

“I was thinking of something just a bit more contemporary.”

“Okay, how about you be Whitney Houston and I’ll be Shania Twain.”

“You’re not takin’ this very seriously.”

“Of course I’m not. Why would I?”

“Because it works, darn it. Try it. Or are you chicken?”

“Don’t call me chicken.” Jack was out of his chair and trying to loom menacingly over his slightly taller friend. “Give it to me.”

“So you’re going to try it out? Are you sure you’re not afraid?”

“Sure I’m sure,” he growled as he grabbed two containers from his friend’s hands.

“What are you going to become?”

“Not a clue. I know. I’ll become...I’ll become...a barbarian, like from that movie you were watching.

“I wasn’t watching it, I was channel surfing and stopped there when you started talking to me again.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Before he found another reason not to, Jack uncorked the small test tube and swallowed the amber fluid inside. “Ugh. It tastes like scotch.”

“Shut up and think barbarian. You want to screw this up?”

“I’m thinking. I’m thinking.” He looked down at his body. Why aren’t I changing?”

“It takes a few moments. Give it a chance.”

“Right. Absolutely.” But Jack still squeezed his eyes closed tight and concentrated as hard as he could.

“Hey! I feel a tingling. It must be working.” Jack’s eyes opened wide with shock, and then he collapsed to the floor groaning and writhing.

“Oh, god. It’s not supposed to hurt.” Hastie dropped to the ground beside his friend, trying to cradle Jack’s head in his lap as his face became pale with fear.

Jack suddenly became very still, hardly breathing. Before Hastie could start CPR one eye opened and Jack laughed. “Gotcha. This is one practical joke that’s going to be on you.”

“You bastard. You had me scared to death.” Hastie pushed Jack’s head off his lap and stood up. Still laughing, Jack pushed himself back so that he could lean against a stuffed chair.

“I told you this was a crock. Now what’s the real plan for the Halloween party? Does it have something to do with the TSP device your father mentioned yesterday?”

“Sorry Jack. That was the real thing, and I suggest you keep thinking about big bad burly barbarians|unless you want to be that centaur, or maybe you want to be the barbarian babe?”

“Now that was one good looking babe. Did you know her bio says Selene’s exactly as tall as me. She’s a red head in that movie but she’s usually sporting blonde hair. I wonder if she’s a natural blonde? I’ll bet she is.”

“Jack. Don’t do this. You really need to think of...”

Before Hastie could finish Jack groaned and slid over onto his side, hands clutched tightly to his chest. As Hastie watched, his best friend’s twitching body slowly seemed to turn to Jello and flow into a new and different shape. Hair flowed out of his head, reddish blonde hair that kept coming until it reached below the shoulders. His arms thinned and the skin lightened a bit. His upper torso didn’t get smaller, but it did change shape with the shoulders and waist becoming thinner. His shoes didn’t fall off, but they seemed to wiggle about more as he continued to twitch.

Suddenly Jack stopped twitching and lay still. His eyes shot open as he sucked in a prodigious quantity of the room’s air and screamed.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Two:

A Night At Wolf Trap

By trying we can easily endure adversity.

Another man’s, I mean.

| Mark Twain

“What was that? Did I hear someone scream?” Dr. Lanyon came running into the lab with a worried expression.

“Damn. I knew we needed better sound proofing,” Hastie muttered to himself as his father’s eyes locked onto Jack, unsteadily getting to his feet.

“Is everything all right Miss?” the older man smiled. Turning to Hastie his smile turned to a frown. “I thought we agreed that you would tell your parents when you have a friend visiting?”

“Right, Pop. I’m sorry. I guess I forgot.” Gesturing to Jack, he continued. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Selene. Selene, this is my Dad.”

Selene seemed more preoccupied with herself and failed to acknowledge the introduction. Before his father’s sensibilities could be aroused and Selene was asked to leave, Hastie rushed to continue an introduction.

“She’s new to our school and asked for some help with chemistry. I hope you don’t mind, but we were about to use the blackboard here in the lab for a study aid.”

“Oh. Okay, son, but next time we, your mother and I, want to know when you have friends over, and I want to know before you use the lab. I’m running the start up routine for the TSP right now and I would really prefer that no one use the lab right now.” Mrs. Lanyon appeared behind her husband just as he was finishing his instructions. She nodded in agreement and waited to be introduced.

“Hi, Mom. This is Selene. Selene, this is my Mom.” Selene nodded distractedly until Hastie kicked her to get her to focus on what was going on around her and not get them both into hot water. He was also worried that she might do something stupid like trying to check out her new anatomy in public.

“Selene, you have lovely hair, is strawberry blonde the natural color?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your hair, is that the natural color? It’s quite becoming, like Hastie’s friend Jack’s hair. I’ve always thought he should let his hair grow a bit, at least more than the crew cut he usually wears.” Mrs. Lanyon stepped around her husband to approach Selene and fluff out the younger woman’s hair so it spread appealingly about her shoulders.

Hastie almost turned green with his mother’s reference to Jack, certain that in his obviously bewildered state his friend would give everything away.

“Oh, uh, yes.”

“Yes, what dear?”

“Yes, I’m a natural blonde. I’m going to have to make an appointment to have it cut as soon as I can. It’s too long now.” She glared at Hastie as he smirked and fought to stifle a snicker.

“Ah, folks. Can we continue this discussion in the living room?” Dr. Lanyon moved protectively next to the closet door and tried to usher everyone out of the room. “I have an experiment under way and it would be safer if everyone moved this discussion to another room, like the living room.”

As if to emphasize the good doctor’s words, there was a rumbling from the closet. Everyone turned towards the door as the rumbling became louder.

“I think we should all leave now.” Dr. Lanyon suggested with more urgency.

The rumbling became a deep moan as it continued to grow in volume. Now, it was so loud that everyone covered their ears as Dr. Lanyon grabbed Selene in one hand and his wife with his other and started dragging them towards the exit.

As suddenly as it started, the noise stopped and everyone turned back to the closet door. There was a small red glow coming from the keyhole. The glow became brighter and before anyone could move the entire door was missing, replaced by a red swirling vortex. Incidental to the door’s disappearance, a whistling sound began that rapidly grew louder and louder until it was a roar. Papers, then small pieces of lab equipment, then books, furniture and people began flying into the vortex. Several minutes later there was a faint click and the vortex snapped off, leaving a completely empty room.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Waves of heat shimmered over a reddish sandy plain surrounded by layered cliffs, rounded and formed into strange multicolored rainbow shapes from ages of blowing wind. A single tree struggled to grow from a rocky ledge providing a limited amount of shade for the four bodies beneath it. It was not until the twin suns settled behind the cliff for the night, that they slowly began to stir and rise.

“Ow! I hurt.”

Assorted moans echoed the sentiment.

“Me too. What happened?” Selene asked as she angrily tugged her hair away from her face.

“I don’t know.” Hastie replied as he struggled to a sitting position. “I guess Pop’s experiment had a bug or two in it.”

“Is that true dear?” Mrs. Lanyon groaned and asked her husband. Seeing Selene struggling with his hair she reached over to help. “Why don’t we put your hair in a ponytail dear?”

“I’m afraid so, Emily dearest.” Dr. Lanyon interjected before Selene could snarl back the frustrated answer Hastie was expecting. Instead, Selene wisely bit her tongue and held back the retort about “like father, like son,” instead saying, “Because despite what I look like, I’m Jack and I haven’t the faintest idea how to do a ponytail or anything else with my hair.”

“Excuse me? I thought Hastie said your name was Selene.”

“He lied. I’m Jack. Jack Utterson. This body,” he gestured, “is another one of Hastie’s botched experiments.”

“Is that true, young man?” Mrs. Lanyon angrily turned to confront her son.

“No, Mom. Not really.” A loud snort of disgust came from Jack’s direction. “I followed the instructions exactly. It was great grandfather’s formula.”

Mrs. Lanyon’s hand went to her mouth while Dr. Lanyon groaned, this time in disappointment.

“But Pop, you told me great grandpa had perfected it.”

“Yes Hastie, he did develop a more benign version of Dr. Jekyll’s formula, but I also told you that the family has decided we would never use it. It was too dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Dangerous how? I knew you were holding out something from me, Hastie.” Jack was angry again; this time the anger was tinged with worry.

“It’s not dangerous, Jack. It worked, didn’t it?” Hastie responded quickly before turning back to his father. “Besides, I don’t see how it could be any more dangerous that your TSP.”

“That will be enough out of you, young man,” Dr. Lanyon glared at his son.

“I’m afraid he might be right, dear. Have you looked around?” Everyone looked beyond the piles of furniture, equipment and books that surrounded them.

“Oh.”

Jack muttered, “It looks like we’re not in Kansas any more, Toto.”

His attempt at humor fell on deaf ears. There was no doubt that they were not in Oklahoma any more. In fact, it was debatable whether they were even on the planet Earth.

“Uh, Pop. Something more than “Oh” seems called for here.”

“Never mind, where we are. Give me one of those test tubes so I can get back to being me again,” Jack demanded as she started crawling toward Hastie with a clear intent to do whatever was necessary to get what she wanted.

“Hastie, didn’t you tell Jack?”

“Not again. What else didn’t he tell me?” The slow crawl stopped. He had made it as far as Mrs. Lanyon who gently put a comforting arm around the pretty blonde beside her.

“Hastie,” Dr. Lanyon “tsked.” “You know what we’ve told you about telling the truth, the whole truth.”

“Yes, father. Jack, you can’t turn back for a fortnight.”

“What? What the he...I mean heck, is a fortnight? Why can’t I change?”

“A fortnight is fourteen days, two weeks.”

“Thank you Dr. Lanyon. Now why do I have to wait so long? And for that matter,” Jack asked Hastie, “How the heck were we going to go back to school after Halloween?”

“I...uh, I...forgot about that part.”

“You forgot? Isn’t it written in that stupid book you got the formula from?”

“No. Jack,” Dr. Lanyon explained, much to the relief of Hastie. “It was so noted in grandfather’s will, along with the warning that to try earlier would lock in the current form|if it didn’t kill you first.”

“Great. Just great.” Jack put her hands to her face and slumped to the ground while Mrs. Lanyon gently held her and rocked with her until a strange howling sound in the distance captured everyone’s attention.

“Dear, I think we should think about what we need to do to make ourselves safe here, where ever here is.”

“Very true. Let’s see what we have here that we can use to help us. Everyone take a corner and start sorting. Whatever is broken, toss away from the tree. Whatever seems intact, place beside the tree. Then, we can make an inventory of what we have and see what we can use to get back home.”

“Okay, Pop, but going home may be a bit difficult.”

“Why’s that?”

Hastie merely pointed upward. There in the sky was the bright full moon helping them see. Beside it was a much smaller, reddish colored moon.

“Oh.”

They all silently began sorting through the piles of scattered items about them.

~~~ oOo ~~~

The larger and brighter of the two moons had set by the time the sorting was completed. Four very tired people sat dejectedly about a small fire made of the combustible trash. The rest of the huge pile of junk had been tossed in a rough circle around them and the pitifully small pile of useful items had been stacked next to the fire. The junk had provided a more than sufficient supply of flammable material for a fire. The refrigerator had been emptied to provide a small meal of candy bars and warm soda.

“Let’s review,” sometimes Dr. Lanyon could not help being pedantic. “The good news is that we are alive and that we have a nearly full box of wooden matches and an assortment of camping and survival supplies, including backpacks to carry it all. The bad news is that we have no food, no water, only the clothes on our backs, and our weapons consist of one laser pointer, two decorative sabers which none of us know how to use effectively, several small surgical knives, and enough chemicals to make a couple of pounds of nitrocellulose if we had some ice.

“Have I missed anything? Oh yes, we don’t know where we are or how to get home.”

Everyone glumly agreed with his assessment.

“This sure ain’t Kansas Toto,” Hastie muttered again, this time it was a recognition of the gloom that had settled over the entire group.

“Don’t say ‘ain’t’ dear,” his mother corrected him as usual, but this time it lacked her usual fervor.

“Let’s get some sleep folks. We should probably take turns keeping watch, although I have no idea what we need to watch for. How about two-hour shifts? Who wants first shift?”

“I will. I’m not tired.” Jack picked up one of the sabers and idly examined it. Something about it seemed to fascinate him although he had no idea what. While the others lay down on the sandy ground and tried to get comfortable, Jack began to slice the air with the blade.

Hastie was not sleepy either. As the only action around was Jack playing with the big knife, he watched his friend. With a twinge of guilt he realized that in her current form, she was very pleasing to look at.

“Hey, Selene. When did you get so good with a blade?”

“I don’t know. It just feels right. And don’t call me Selene.”

Hastie watched as Jack continued practicing his swordplay, moving faster and faster, making more and more difficult moves. She was good, very good. Better than she had any right to be, and there was something else, something different about her. Hastie concentrated, trying to figure out what had changed.

Her hair? Was her hair a darker red than he remembered? Maybe, but that wasn’t what was gnawing at the edges of his awareness. It had to be something else.

Her acceptance of the name Selene? Hastie had been teasing, but Jack usually became irate when teased. Maybe, but he did not think that was it either.

His clothes? Jack had been wearing a skin-tight reddish brown leather camisole when they’d come back from practice, hadn’t he?

“Uh, Mom, Pop, Jack. I think we have another problem.”

“What?”

“What’s that, dear?”

“Something’s happening to Sel...Jack. Her...his clothes are changing.”

“Nonsense, Hastie,” his mother chided him. “I remember complimenting her on her choice of leather when we met.”

“Mom, first off, that’s Jack, not a ‘her,’ and one problem is sh...he’s not even correcting us. The second problem is, like I said before, her clothes are changing. We were both wearing sweats with the school logo on them like mine when we left practice this afternoon.”

“Are you sure, dear? I recall complimenting her when we met.”

“I’m sure, Mom. I’m sure. Look. Now there’s a scabbard too.”

“Oh my, I don’t remember that being there before.”

“Neither do I,” Dad chimed in.

“I don’t get it. What’s happening?”

Dr. Lanyon cleared his throat and everyone turned towards him. “I think I can explain, at least part of it.

“When she took the Jekyll formula her body changed. Now her mind is changing to match her body. That’s why she’s adjusting to the use of the name Selene. Watch.” He turned to address Jack.

“Jack, would you please tell us your name.”

“Sure.” Her face showed the strain as she concentrated on what should have been a simple request. “It’s Son.... It’s J...Jel...Selene. That’s it, Selene. My name is Selene.” Jack beamed at the others as he repeated the name over and over.

“Thank you, Selene,” Dad smiled politely at her. “You can stop now.”

“I can’t explain why her clothes are changing, but I think I can explain what’s responsible for the changes.” He stopped and peered carefully at each of the others. “I’m pretty sure it’s only happening to her, so I think it’s a safe working hypothesis to assume that it’s somehow related to her ingestion of the Jekyll formula.”

“I don’t understand, Herbert. How could a formula, even one that somehow changes a person’s genetic makeup, change non-living matter?”

“I don’t know Emily. Only with time and careful observation do we have a chance of determining that.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Dad?”

“Yes, Hastie? Please keep your voice down. You’re mother is sleeping.”

“I haven’t figured out exactly how yet either, but the changes may help us.”

“How’s that, son?”

“The formula can change us into forms that are better suited to surviving here.”

“That’s true, son, but I don’t remember any reference to changes in non-living matter. That’s something new and, I must admit, worrisome to me.

“Gentlemen.”

“Yes Selene, I mean Jack?”

“I think you should be aware that we are not alone|and don’t call me Jack.”

The two men quickly scanned the darkness but saw nothing. “What’s up?”

“There are several large four legged creatures circling our campsite, I think six. Look away from the fire until you eyes adjust and you will be able to catch glimpses of the red glow of the fire in their eyes.”

It took two tense minutes for their eyes to adjust and even then it took luck to catch the occasional momentary glint of red from the fire reflected in the eyes of the creatures in the darkness.

“Should we wake Mom?”

“No, son, let her sleep. Your mother is many things, but not a fighter.”

The night was shattered by an unholy wail, like the one they had heard earlier, but much closer. “What was that?” Mrs. Lanyon was wide-awake, eyes wide with fright as she jerked to an upright position.

“So much for not waking your mother,” Dr. Lanyon muttered, before responding in a louder voice to his wife. “It’s nothing, dear. We have some animals nearby, but the fire is keeping them at bay.”

“Oh dear. Do we have enough wood to make it through the night?”

“More than enough dear,” he answered aloud before muttering to himself, “I hope.” There was no assurance that this world rotated on a twenty-four hour schedule.

“They’re getting closer.” Selene had taken a wide-footed fighting stance a she concentrated on the things in the dark.

“Dear. Stay by the fire and make sure it keeps burning as bright as it is now, but don’t make it any bigger. We don’t know how long the nights are here.”

Dr. Lanyon gestured to Hastie to move to another quadrant and find a weapon. As one, they ran to the lab table and yanked on its two remaining legs until they broke off in their hands. A club was better than bare hands and neither felt comfortable with the lone saber left.

Club in hand, each moved to a position at the barrier, about a third of the circumference of the circle of junk away from Selene. From the noises behind them, Mrs. Lanyon was digging through the piles of useful material, but neither of the men was willing to look back towards the fire where she was for fear of losing what little night vision they had.

There was another undulating wail and everyone but Selene jerked a bit. This one seemed louder and closer still. As the horrid caterwaul faded into the night, Selene spoke quietly but decisively. “They come.”

Seconds ticked by with only the crackling of the fire to confirm the passage of time. The tension was unbearable and Hastie glanced at the tense and unmoving figure of Selene, to his right. “Where the hell are they?”

Quickly turning back he found a huge slathering mouth full of teeth snarling at him from the top of a pile of junk just inches away from his face. Before he could scream in fear and shock it was on him, knocking him backwards to the sand within the circle and jumping onto his chest, knocking even more air from his lungs. Everything began to move in slow motion.

Gasping for breath he held the club in both hands as he tried to push the teeth, surrounded by ratty brownish fur, from his neck. As the jaws snapped at him he could hear sounds of battle around him, but couldn’t concentrate as he felt the thing’s neck sliding back off the club. The next time those jaws closed it would surely be around his neck.

Suddenly, the thing on his chest spasmed, giving him a chance to drop the club and grab at it’s neck on both sides, just behind the teeth. As he scrabbled for a grip his hand brushed against something stiff and hard and it spasmed again before snapping at his neck again.

Hastie knew that his grip was slipping. Desperately grasping for a safer grip, he again brushed that stiff object and again the creature jerked as if in tremendous pain. Grasping at whatever it was, he absently noted that it was slick with some fluid, but that was secondary to his need to jab at the toothy monstrosity on top of him with the stick or whatever it was. He pushed it in firmly and twisted.

The creature howled and squirmed, clawing his chest painfully. He pushed harder as the creature made yet another lunge at his neck. The teeth were close enough that they had moved out of sight below his chin when the creature became rigid and...and stopped moving.

Hastie kept pushing and twisting the stick, or whatever it was for more than a minute, until he realized it was no longer moving. As he tiredly pushed it off, he realized that it had horrible breath, like swap gas and that there was some type of fluid on his chest. A tired hand brushed absently at the sticky liquid and held it up for his inspection. It was red. It was blood. His last thought before passing out was to wonder if it was his.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Three:

Time For A Change Of Scenery

I say violence is necessary.

It’s as American as cherry pie.

| H. Rap Brown

“He’s coming around, everybody. He’s coming around.”

Hastie wondered what his mother was doing in his bedroom so early in the morning. But wait a minute; the light through his closed eyes was too bright. It couldn’t be morning, maybe it was time to get up. Then he noticed the lump under his left shoulder.

Shifting position to get more comfortable, he wondered why he couldn’t hear the alarm clock, or had he forgotten to turn if on last night. He also wondered why the bed seemed so hard. Finally, Hastie had to wake up and opened his eyes to see his parents and a vision of loveliness looking down on him as he tried to sit up. The pain stopped him.

“Don’t try to move, Hastie dear. The bunny rat sliced up your chest with its claws before you killed it.”

“Bunny rat?” Memories flooded to the fore. He remembered the formula, the problem with his father’s TSP device, the double moons, and...the bunny rats. “Oh.” It was more a groan than an acknowledgment, but the others smiled supportively.

“Is everyone else okay?”

“Yes dear. Your father has a bad scratch on his arm, but Selene and I are fine.”

“What happened to the...uh, ‘bunny rats,’ and why call them that?” He tried to get up again and winced with the pain, but made it to a sitting position.

“Lie still, son, and we’ll explain.” Dr. Lanyon pushed an orange and violet colored object shaped like a small squash into his hand. “Drink! It tastes something like cherry cola, but not as sweet. It’s from the tree. I suspect the bunny rats were trying to get to them and we were in the way.

“Anyway, to answer your questions in reverse order, we’re calling them bunny rats because they have characteristics of both. There’s the long ears and fur like a rabbit and the tail and teeth of a rat. Of course, they are quite a bit bigger than either rats or rabbits.”

“About 60 pounds bigger,” Selene interjected. Dr. Lanyon glared as he would have at any of his students who were rash enough to interrupt one of his lectures, but when she just smiled and stood her ground, he shrugged and continued.

“As to what happened, we killed them. Selene got two, I got one, you got one and your mother got one.”

“One and a half,” Selene interrupted again. “The knife you used to kill yours was the one your mother threw. Plus one got away.”

“We are not sure of that young lady.” Selene just smiled knowingly at her friend’s father.

“Leave the girl alone, Herbert. She’s right.”

“What? Yes dear, I mean, how do you know that?”

“I saw it, dear. It was right behind the one you killed. I threw a knife at that one too, but missed. Selene tossed a rock at it and scared it away.”

“So one of those monsters is still out there?” Hastie’s eyes darted everywhere at once as he tried to make sure there were no bunny rats nearby. His awareness of his need for self-preservation had been dramatically heightened by the fight he had been in.

“Relax, son. We’ll take turns standing guard, but I doubt it will come back. They seem to be pack animals and it has no pack to rely on any more.” Selene nodded her agreement and somehow that small gesture was more comforting to Hastie than his father’s assurances, but not enough that he was ready to take a chance on sleeping ever again.

“No way am I going to sleep. One of those monsters is still out there and I am not going to give it another chance at me.” Hastie tried to use the back of the tree to help him slide upward into a standing position, but immediately groaned in pain and slid back down.

“Herbert Lanyon the Fourth! I will not allow you to foolishly injure yourself because you do not trust your own father and mother. You will lie down and close your eyes this instant.” Mrs. Lanyon was like a force of nature when she was angry. Long experience had taught both Hastie and his father never to argue at such times.

“Yes, mother.” Hastie bristled as he noticed Selene snicker, but slowly slid down into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds.

~~~ oOo ~~~

There must have been an earthquake. The whole world was shaking|and it hurt. Someone was calling him from a distance, “Hastie! Wake up dear. Please wake up.”

“Wha?”

“Wake up, dear. Please wake up. Please.”

“Wazza matta?” The earthquake stopped and Hastie closed his eyes again, ready to go back to sleep.

“Herbert Lanyon, don’t you dare go back to sleep.”

“Yes, mother.” His eyes were wide open again.

“Listen carefully, Hastie. We have a problem. The lacerations you got from that bunny rat have become infected. Both you and your father have become very ill. We’ve been discussing what to do and we’ve only come up with one answer. You|actually you and your father|must both take the Jekyll formula and change shape. Do you hear me? You’ve got to swallow the formula and then concentrate. Can you do that dear?

“Sure Mom. Right after I take a little nap....”

“Don’t you dare go to sleep!”

“Just a nap, Mom. Not long. Just a few more minutes and I’ll get up for school.”

“He’s not paying attention. What are we going to do?

“I’ll wake him up.” Selene gently pushed Mrs. Lanyon out of the way.

“Wake up, Hastie. Wake up, Hastie. Wake up, Hastie.” Each prompt was punctuated by a slap, each harder than the one before. On the fifth slap Hastie roused enough to slap away the hand and on the sixth he caught it just before it struck.

“Why are you hitting me? Would you like me to hit you like that?”

“It’s okay, dear,” Mrs. Landon quickly intervened. “You were sick and we couldn’t wake you up. We had to wake you up. We need you to do something. Can you hear me, dear?”

A nod.

“You’re very sick, dear. You could die. You must take some of the formula and transform. It’s your only hope. Do you understand?”

Another nod, but Hastie’s eyes were beginning to close again.

“Herbert Lanyon the Fourth! Don’t you dare go to sleep? Do you hear me?”

“Yesss Mmmm,” he slurred. “Wonegoda sleep.”

“You must take the formula and you must transform, Hastie. You must become a centaur. Do you hear me Hastie, a centaur?”

Selene placed a test tube to the injured boy’s lips and tilted it up. When the liquid touched his lips he swallowed reflexively and then choked, nearly spitting it back out. “No, Hastie. Swallow. You must swallow, dear.”

“Don’t worry about him swallowing. Now we need to keep him awake and focused long enough to start transforming.”

“That’s true, Selene. You keep him focused and I’ll take care of Dr. Lanyon.”

The two women separated and Selene turned back to Hastie. “Listen up, Hastie. I want you to think about centaurs. Do you hear me? Centaurs.”

“I hear you,” Hastie slurred. “Centaurs.” He further emphasized his understanding by nodded his agreement, but concurrently his eyes were glazing over.

“Hastie. HASTIE!” Another slap.

“What? Whaddya want?”

“I want you to think of centaurs.

“Centaurs. Right.” His eyes unglazed for a moment and he looked up at Selene. “Say, did anyone ever tell you you’re pretty?” With that he passed out. Even two hard slaps couldn’t rouse him.

“Mrs. Lanyon. We’ve got a problem here. Hastie’s unconscious and I can’t wake him.”

“Oh dear. Herbert, you’d better hold up on taking the formula. We may need all of your medical expertise with Hastie.” They all crowded about the injured boy.

“Do you think it will work Herbert? Do you think the formula took?”

“I don’t know dear. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Look!” Selene pointed. “He’s changing. Maybe he’ll be okay.”

“I just hope we were correct in our assumption that changing would heal his wounds.”

“I’m hopeful,” Selene responded. “When I changed a rather painful injury I had received at football practice earlier that day disappeared. It should work for him also.”

“We’ll see. We’ll see.”

“Oh shoot.” Selene was watching the transformation.

“Don’t say that word Selene dear. It’s not ladylike.” Then Mrs. Lanyon glanced back down at her son. “Oh shoot.”

The shape that was forming from what had been Hastie Lanyon did not seem to be developing hind legs.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“I don’t like being a centaur. It feels strange.” Emily Lanyon fought to suppress a grin at how whiny her husband’s voice sounded.

“Well, the breasts are a bit much dear. Do you really think I should look like that?”

“Of course not, Emily. I guess my depth perception isn’t as good as I thought.” His words did not stop him from blushing.

“It’s alright, dear,” Mrs. Lanyon laughed. “I’m actually quite flattered, but we had better get something around those things before you hurt yourself.” Fighting back a giggle, she continued, “I can’t wait to see you cantering.” With that Mrs. Lanyon began rummaging through the junk pile. Finding the flowered peach curtains that had been hanging in the lab she doubled them up and began wrapping them around Dr. Lanyon’s new breasts. Crossing them in the back, she brought them over his shoulders and then tied them between the cups.

“This seems awfully tight, dear.”

“I made it tight purposely. If those things are bouncing uncomfortably now when you’re just standing here talking to me, image what it’s going to be like when you’re galloping.”

Dr. Lanyon’s face turned bright red and he staggered a bit which only served to prove his wife’s point. If he could have figured out how to sit, he would have done so gladly.

“Hastie’s coming around.”

The two centaurs turned to see Selene pointing to a double of herself; except the one on the ground had blonde hair. The double was lying on her back, groaning and rubbing hair from her face.

“Hastie dear, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, Mom. I’ll get up for school in a few moments.” The blonde rolled over.

“No, Hastie. It’s time to wake up right now.” Mrs. Lanyon was quite insistent and Hastie rolled back onto his back and looked up at his mother. Behind her and to the left was Selene|and on her right side was his mother again, but this time she had the lower extremities of a horse.

“Wha?” He was abruptly fully awake and sitting up, staring at the centaur.

“Don’t talk, Hastie,” his mother prompted. “Your father will explain.”

Hastie just stared from Selene, to his mother, to his mother the centaur, and back in total confusion. He was even more confused when the centaur began speaking.

“You and I were sick and probably dying from the infections we got when the bunny rats scratched us with their claws...and yes, I am your father as well as a centaur that looks like your mother. Just like you, I took the formula and changed. We needed a form of transportation and we needed to be able to communicate. Being a centaur seemed the simplest solution. Unfortunately, when the change started I was wondering what your mother would look like as a centaur. Thus...” he gestured to display his body.

“I think it’s flattering, what your father has done,” Mrs. Lanyon cooed. “Don’t you? He’s taken my body as his template and made some minor modifications to idealize it.” Mrs. Lanyon referred to the slightly larger breasts and the more youthful, thinner and more glamorous face.

“Umm.”

“It’s okay, son. I’m still getting used to it too.” Dr. Lanyon carefully pranced back and forth to demonstrate how facile he had become in his new chestnut mare’s body. “You need to do the same.”

Hastie once again gazed back up at his parents in confusion, unsure what his father meant. Then he remembered that he had taken the formula too and quickly examined his body with growing shock and alarm.

“That’s right, sis, Selene chuckled. “Welcome to the buxom barbarian babes fan club.” As Hastie tentatively poked at the offending lumps on his chest, Selene gently slapped his hand away and continued. “You’ve got to get your mind out of the gutter, sis.”

“So, to summarize,” Dr. Lanyon pontificated in hopes of bringing the conversation back to something more useful to their situation, “Jack has become a red haired woman who is calling herself Selene, I’ve become a centaur with an upper body that’s a duplicate of your mother’s, and you’ve become a blonde version of the same woman as Jack.”

“We’ve always been close friends, Hastie.” The young Lanyon wasn’t sure if he was more disconcerted by the sinister belly laugh that emanated from the redhead standing before him or her next words. “Now we can even share clothesboyfriends too.”

Hastie was at a loss for words although he opened and then immediately closed his mouth several times as he tried to get some sounds besides a gurgle to pass his lips.

“Relax, Hastie, I was joking.”

“That’s quite enough, Selene,” Mrs. Lanyon interrupted. “Hastie is still adjusting to this and I suspect it’s a bit of a shock. Now if you ladies will excuse me,” she turned her back just in time to avoid having any of the others see her snicker, “I’m going to go off and become a centaur also, so we can travel more easily.”

With that Emily Lanyon headed off to the other side of the tree with a reminder for the others to be quiet and not disturb her so she could concentrate on doing a proper transformation. Selene took the time to check for potential hostiles and then helped Hastie up. Flipping the sword into the air, she deftly caught it by the hilt, flipped it again so that the handle faced Hastie and handed it to her. The blonde woman took it without thinking and began practicing some routines. Shortly, Selene joined her and they began sparring|only to find that they were quite good and surprisingly evenly matched. No one noticed that Hastie’s jeans and tee shirt had become a black version of Selene’s skimpy leathers.

“About a half an hour later Mrs. Lanyon returned, or at least everyone assumed the centaur that came from around the tree was Mrs. Lanyon. The problem was that while the lower portion looked like a chestnut stallion that could have been from the same dam and sire as Dr. Lanyon the centaur, the upper portion was an idealized version of Dr. Lanyon the man.

“I’m sorry dear,” she apologized to her husband. “I just don’t understand. I’m quite sure I was thinking of becoming a centaur mare just like you.”

“That’s all right, dear. I was actually wondering about the gender changes myself. I similarly had thought I had been very careful to visualize myself as a male centaur, but when I came out as a mare I assumed I had slipped at some crucial point and thought of you. With you telling me the same thing, and considering the gender changes the boys went through, I am beginning to postulate that there may be more to the formula than great grandfather knew | or admitted.

“As I think of it, I don’t remember grandfather, usually fastidious about details, being very specific about his time as a horse. I think everyone in the family assumed that he felt awkward talking about his thoughts and feelings as an equine, or had difficulty describing emotions and thought so foreign to his, but maybe his uncharacteristic reticent was because there was a gender change. That would have been a tremendous shock to his Victorian sensibilities, probably even more than becoming an animal.”

“That would be nice, dear. I hope your theory is confirmed. I would really prefer to think I am capable of holding one thought for a reasonable period of time.”

“Ahem,” the two barbarian women spoke in near unison. “If you two are done, we think we should point out that there is a cloud of dust approaching and that probably means company.”

“Oh great!” Dr. Lanyon was less than happy about this intrusion into his introspection regarding the situation. “Now what do we do?”

“I recommend we grab our backpacks, gather a bunch of these fruits and ‘high tail it for the other end of the canyon, partner.’” If the previous instance of speaking in unison was strange, this, with the phony western drawl, was downright eerie.

“Girls, don’t do that. It’s spooky; almost like you’re actually one person in two bodies.” Mrs. Lanyon grabbed the other curtain and piled a dozen of the melon-like fruits into it. Tying it into a bundle and knotting it, she threw it over her shoulder and yelled for the girls to jump on. Two flying leaps and they were racing off towards the far wall of the canyon using the backpacks as reigns.

Selene grabbed a brief glance backward. “They didn’t stop at the tree.” The others just grunted and the two centaurs broke into a full gallop.

“Try to the left,” Hastie shouted. “I think I see a small arroyo. Hopefully, it’s a way out. If not, it’s a place we might be able to defend if we have to make a stand.”

The cloud of smoke was growing closer. Neither Dr. Lanyon nor his wife were fully acclimated to their new bodies and had to concentrate for fear of stumbling. The extra weight of the two barbarian women was also disconcerting as they bounced about on the backs of the elder Lanyons as they galloped.

“I see about a dozen riders,” Selene called out. “They’re all armed with swords.”

“There’s the arroyo,” Hastie pointed. “Only about two hundred yards; I think we can make it.”

The two centaurs were breathing hard as Hastie shouted a plan of war above the rapid hoof beats. “Once we clear those rocks, Selene and I will drop off and prepare an ambush. You two gallop ahead a bit so the dust cloud continues into the pass and then circle back. Grab some rocks. You can throw them from a distance.”

“Get ready. We’ll drop the bags when we jump off.

“Now.” The two women jumped and scrambled behind several large boulders on each side of the small rock cut. The centaurs galloped on and they waited, but instead of continuing to close, the riders stopped just beyond arrow range.

They milled about until one rode forward a couple of yards. “Give up. No where to go have you.”

“We have food and water,” Selene called back. “We are waiting for others.” Selene ignored the confused look Hastie gave her. “They will arrive shortly.”

“Then they too our captives will become.”

“They are more than your rabble. They will take you captive, if they do not slay you out of hand.”

“Before any additional threats you make,” the pack leader called back, “look behind you.”

“Look to you’re own rear,” Selene called back, brushing off Hastie’s frantic tugs at her arm. “Our friends will be here shortly.”

The tugging became even more insistent and Selene hissed at Hastie to stop.

“Shut up and look behind us,” Hastie hissed back. Cautiously Selene glanced behind and then sighed as she lowered her sword and let it slide to the ground. Several paces behind the two women the narrow entrance widened rapidly. In the opening were the centaurs. Riders were mounted on their backs holding sharp looking swords pointed at their necks. About a dozen additional horsemen surrounded the centaurs and stood, swords drawn, watching the two barbarian women intently.

As the swords fell and their hands rose into the air, one of the riders called to the others and they rode up to join the group by the rocks, surrounding them with several dozen riders, all with weapons drawn and huge smiles on their scarred faces.

The fallen swords quickly disappeared and thin strips of leather bound Selene’s and Hastie’s hands behind their backs. Additional strips of leather, tied in a noose, were draped around their necks with the other ends attached to saddle horns. Two horsemen examined the centaurs and babbled excitedly when they could not find reins. Leather was quickly placed around their necks too.

Without a word to the prisoners they started off, only to stop to stare at the bright light and tornado of noise surrounding the now distant tree. Five minutes later, the noise and light disappeared as quickly as it had begun, but the tree was missing. The entire group began the trek down the now wide canyon with a distinctly more somber mien.

Selene and Hastie had to trot to keep up with the horde. Given the number of rocks and boulders strewn about the floor of the canyon their eyes were, of necessity, forced down to avoid tripping. Thus, they nearly bumped into the rears of the horses of their captors when they stopped short after rounding a corner.

Brushing hair from their faces with their still joined hands, the two women peered around the horses to see, carved into the side of the canyon, a huge set of doors. The doors were surrounded by a pair of engravings of centaurs, one male and one female. Light reflecting off the brightly burnished bronze covering their eyes, teeth and fingernails; beamed down on the crowd below them.

Even the horses seemed ill at ease and several had to be reigned in while their riders murmured anxiously, but the only clear word was “Zambulus.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Four:

Into The Darkness

Do not rush headlong into the darkness for fear of the light.

| Jeffrey M. Mahr

The horde milled about in front of the temple. There was a clear undercurrent of fear as their captors examined the enormous structure carved out of the rock wall. Selene and Hastie seemed undisturbed, but even Dr. and Mrs. Lanyon shivered with some unspecified, but still palpable feeling of ill ease.

The temple itself had huge doors, easily three times as tall and twice as wide as the newly created centaurs. Fanning out on either side of the doors were six huge fluted columns, half again taller than the doors, and above the entrance was a capstone even taller than the doors below. The capstone stretched from one end of the row of columns to the other and was covered with hieroglyphics creating a single row of dancing giants across it.

Further examination was interrupted as the leader shouted, “Forward!”

Still gawking, the girls were yanked forward by the straps around their necks. They coughed and gasped for air while their captors laughed, but their expressions made it clear that it was much better for their captors that they could not speak.

As the group approached, the doors opened for them although there was no visible source that moved them. The leader, a strange looking man with bright white hair and a matching goatee easily a foot long, strode confidently up to the doors and made several gestures before turning back to the others.

“Set the wards have been. The torches light. To the stable the horses go, inside and to the left. To me in the throne room bring the prisoners.”

When no one moved he snapped, “Now!” before stalking off into the temple.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“I don’t get it. Do you think they’re xenophobic?” Herbert Lanyon shrugged her shoulders and frowned as she poked at the dust covered, rotting, hay-strewn, stall. The stall was only a small portion of the room, which was also being used as a storage depot. An oil lamp flickered at the far end of the room where a number of jugs were carefully stacked. From the scents permeating the room, some were oil, some were wine and some were other things, unidentifiable and strange, slithering about at the tips of consciousness. There were also a number of burlaps bags, some filled with various foodstuffs and others left strewn about after having been emptied.

The light barely made it to the side of the room where their makeshift stall had been set up. Dr. Lanyon could barely see her wife in the guttering light although she could smell him and feel the heat radiating from his body.

“They’re treated us like common horses,” Emily whispered as she pointed in the direction of the now sleeping stable hands. “Not a word to us. It was as if we didn’t exist.”

“Yes, dear, and they’re still doing it.”

“I mean, what is the world coming to when adult males don’t even look at naked breasts?” Herbert looked down and blushed as she realized what she had just said. “Uhh, what was that you said, dear?”

“I said they’re still treating us like horses.” Mrs. Lanyon pointed to the stall they were in. “No guards, no gate, just a rope from our neck to a tie ring in an open room, not even a real stall. We can walk away from here any time we want.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get the kids and get out of here. I think that flash of light and earthquake was the TSP. If it is, I know how to get us home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mrs. Lanyon reached up and began working on the knotted leather tied to his neck. As she worked on the knot, she pondered aloud, “I wonder why?”

“Why what?” Dr. Lanyon was working with equal vigor on his knot.

“I wonder why they act like we we’re horses. Do you think that’s what they think we are?”

“Humm. You know, I’ll bet they do. They must know about centaurs given the huge base reliefs by the entrance. With that much effort put into the artwork I would suspect centaurs are either quite rare and valuable, in which case they would be taking better care of us, or common, in which case they would know to speak to us.”

“But they ignored us. Even when we spoke to them they ignored us.”

“Exactly, Emily. We can hear each other speaking and the girls can hear us speaking, yet it seems they can’t...or won’t.”

“So which is it, ‘can’t’ or ‘won’t,’ Herbert? It makes a difference for how we should proceed.”

“There’s not enough information to determine that for sure yet, but I’m guessing ‘can’t.’ It’s like ‘Ghost,’ the children’s game where everyone pretends someone is not there even though he or she is actually present. Someone usually makes a mistake, talking to the ghost, walking around him or her, responding to something the ghost has said or done, even if it’s just a flush of embarrassment or a raised eyebrow. In effect someone blinks.”

Mrs. Lanyon waited impatiently for his husband to finish, but she seemed to have forgotten what she was saying as she concentrated on her knot. “What about ‘Ghost,’ dear?”

“Oh, sorry. No one blinked. Nothing. Our captors said and did absolutely nothing to give me the slightest hint that they thought we were anything more than horses. For whatever reason, I think we appear to be horses rather than centaurs to everyone but Selene and her sister.”

“You mean our son, Hastie, don’t you, Herbert?”

“Yes, of course. For some reason I couldn’t remember his name. I think that’s a clue too, but I’m not sure of what.”

Herbert Lanyon gave a final yank and removed the knot around her neck. Looking up she saw that her wife had already removed his and was using strips of the leather to tie burlap bags around each foot. He had already donned the backpack full of useful tidbits they’d gathered back at the tree.

“Good idea, dear. It should muffle the sounds of our hooves nicely.” She quickly copied him, both with respect to the burlap and the backpack, and they headed off in search of the youngsters.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

The chamber might have been opulent at one time, but it had been abandoned long enough that it had been necessary to actually shovel the dust into corners and there was still a strong smell of decay despite the aromas emanating from the food laden table in the center of the room. Hastie and Selene almost drooled as they examined the treasure of precious metals and jewels carelessly tossed into the corner along with the dust. There were only two people in the room, but neither one looked like your average next door neighbor. Both had scars of some sort and both wore swords, knives and a smattering of other weapons that she could see.

Several tapestries had also once adored the throne room’s walls, but they too were rotted and one disintegrated in a puff of cloying dust as Selene brushed against it. The two men turned as the mushroom cloud of dust appeared and saw the girls. The big one had a sword in his hand although neither girl had seen him remove it from his scabbard. The smaller of the two, the leader, merely smiled and beckoned them into the room.

“To my table I welcome you, strangers. Akcuanrut am I and this be the Lost Temple of Zampulus. Please....” he made a broad wave towards the table piled high with an assortment of fruits surrounding two large braised haunches. Selene was fairly certain they were the carcasses of the bunny rats killed back by the tree.

Selene concluded that if it had not happened yet, they probably were not going to be killed. That meant their captors had something worse in mind for them. Thus, she felt confident that there was little to lose by entering the room the rest of the way since their presence had already been announced by the crumbling tapestry. Similarly, given their less than powerful position, sans weapons, there was also nothing to lose by being honest. Besides, she had no desire to be anyone’s food tester.

“You first,” she said as she stepped toward the center of the room. It came out gruffly, but Selene didn’t care.

The white haired man just laughed and waved nonchalantly to his companion, a huge man with muscles on his muscles. Selene found herself staring, first at his biceps, then his chest and below, as he strode confidently to the table and grabbed an entire haunch with the ease of a scholar lifting a sheet of paper. Taking a prodigious bite he smiled with grease dripping from his mouth, and without bothering to wipe, tossed a portion of the haunch to Akcuanrut.

With a similar smile, Akcuanrut ignored the two women as he began munching himself. Eventually, Hastie tentatively approached the table and tried a fruit. Selene sighed, and joined her, taking out her dagger and carving off a large section of the remaining haunch. For a while, the only sounds were those of ripping, chewing and swallowing, interspersed by the occasional belch.

Finally, Akcuanrut threw down his bone, gave vent to a huge belch, leaned back on the stone throne upon which he had been sitting and turned to the women. “As earlier I said, Akcuanrut am I. Beside me, this hulking barbarian be D’lon-ra, my second in command. Help us to recover the Heart of Virtue he will.”

“The what?” Selene asked.

“You said ‘us’,” Hastie interjected. “Do you mean Selene and my family?”

“Aye, Milady.”

“What makes you think we will work for you?” Selene asked.

“My, pretties. Whoa,” he laughed with a jiggling stomach. “At a time one only. Your fellow travelers, first maybe, would like to join us?” Every one turned to the entryway he gestured towards as Emily and Herbert sheepishly stepped around the corner of the wall from which they had been eavesdropping.

“To the food, help yourselves,” the silver haired man called out. “Hungry, you must be.” He waited patiently as they paced up to the table and picked up a fruit each.

“Come, come. Hungrier than that you must be. A long way traveled have you. Hungry centaurs must you be.” With that he turned back to the others.

“But you can see us as centaurs. How is that?” Dr. Lanyon was confused.

“Eat. Relax. Explain I will, but other questions I have first to answer.” He turned to Selene.

“First your question was I believe. ‘Unique’ be the Heart of Virtue. Not totally of this world be it. By the Dark Gods created it was. To aid them in their eternal war against ‘The Light’ was it made. Much about it we know not, but to suck the virtue from those about it its prime function be, thus additional slaves of Darkness creating.

“Why should you aid us, the second question was.” He paused in thought for long enough for the others to wonder if he was going to respond at all, but then continued. “To explain, a bit of the history of this world, I must tell. Not from it you are, after all.”

Mrs. Lanyon gasped while father’s and son’s eyes grew wide. Selene’s grave expression became even more severe, but Akcuanrut just smiled and nodded. “I know. Question number four, but out of order answer it I will.

“Not from this world you are because routinely slaughtered for their magical properties centaurs on this world are, so fear and avoid humans they do. From this world no centaur would permit itself to be captured as you have for fear of mutilation and death.

“Not from this world you are because were you, recognize D’lon-ra as Emperor’s Champion and I as Dean of the Emperor’s College of Wizards you would.” He ticked off another finger.

“Not from this world you are because, like ours, your auras are not.” Seeing his guest’s confusion he added, “But discuss that later we shall or to the rest of your questions we will never get.

“Finally, not from this world you are because, unlike all others, speak with an accent you do.” He smiled at the mixed emotions flashed across his guests as they debated which of his claims to accept and which not to reject.

“‘Why should you aid us I believe next was?’ Not being of this world, the answer may not have as much meaning to the four of you as it does to us,” he made a broad gesture including D’lon-ra, “but, as simply as possible to put things, if we cannot get the Heart of Virtue back to the College within the next fortnight cease to exist this world shall. On the neighboring dimensions the impact of the destruction of an entire world I would not care to imagine.”

Dr. Lanyon gasped this time and then whispered to her wife. “Remember that glow and earthquake as we were running from this horde? I think it means that the gate home is still open. If this world really is destroyed, the energy blast into our world through that gate could destroy our world also.”

“Sorry to hear that I am. A wizard I told you I was.” He smiled as he spoke, but it was quickly replaced by a frown of concern. “A portal I feared that was, but had not the luxury of time to examine it. Justified your concerns are. Access to enough destructive energy from this world a portal would provide. Damage your world or even destroy it the energy could. To aid us this provides another reason, I fear.”

Walking to the buffet, Akcuanrut retrieved a flagon of ale. Returning to his seat on the aging throne, he drank deeply. “Ahhh. Dry the mouth, talking can.”

“So,” Dr. Lanyon spoke around the orange and red speckled fruit in her mouth, “assuming we believe you and agree to assist you, how would we capture and transport this ‘Heart of Virtue’ if being near it turns you evil?”

“Medallions I will provide you with which will dampen its power but protect you completely it will not should you touch the Heart. The souls of heroes and the skills of thieves you will need else you succumb despite my protective devices.”

Hastie turned to Selene. She was tempted to whisper, but after her father’s failed attempt, decided not to bother and spoke aloud. “This guy can’t be serious, but I’d consider helping just for a piece of the reward if this stuff’s any indication.”

A slight smile passed Selene’s lips in response, but she quickly stifled it and shushed Hastie just like in class, worried that there might be something important they would miss.

“Where is this Heart,” Selene asked, “assuming we agree to retrieve it for you?”

“Ahhh. Tell you that it is but a pleasant stroll from here I would love to do, but I cannot.” Another swig, this time with a slight tremble to the hand, caused some beer to spill onto wizard’s flowing beard. A wave of the hand and it was dry again and Akcuanrut made little of it, but Selene thought she saw fear in his eyes. “More difficult than retrieving it, getting to the Heart may be.”

“We can’t touch it or even be near it without turning into some kind of evil creatures,” Hastie sneered. “What can be worse?”

“Na-Noc.” D’lon-ra interrupted. “The previous Emperor’s Champion and the best warrior ever to live. He and his men never returned from the previous attempt to recover the Heart.”

“So the Heart killed them?” Mrs. Lanyon was not happy with the way this conversation was going.

“No Mrs. Lanyon, he’s probably waiting for us, and as an agent of evil his touch would be the same as if you had touched the Heart.”

“Let me get this straight,” Hastie was clearly incredulous. “We can’t touch the Heart, whatever it is. We can’t be near it. We have to fight the best warrior this world has ever produced and we can’t let him touch us either. Is there any more good news?”

“You must traverse the Caves of Despair to reach the Heart.”

“I was joking. I was joking. Let’s get out of here. These guys are insane.” Hastie turned to leave, but Selene grabbed her arm. Hastie tried to shrug her twin’s hand off, but it didn’t budge. An instant later a dagger was moving with tremendous speed towards Selene’s neck.

“Girls, please.” It was Dr. Lanyon, hands to his mouth in shock, who spoke while his wife charged towards the two youngsters.

Selene saw the dagger approach and stepped back, releasing Hastie’s arm and at the same time drawing her dagger. “Is it playtime, sister?” she sneered evilly as both moved into identical fighting crouches.

“Oh dear. Not acceptable, this is.” The wizard’s hands flew out and every one froze. A second wave and D’Lon-ra unfroze. “Reposition the centaur so that it does not run into anyone or anything.” With that he strolled over to the fighters and gently plucked the knives from their motionless hands and returned to his seat on the stone throne.

Another wave of the hand and there was a flurry of movement. Selene and Hatie blinked and suddenly turned to face the wizard gently tapping one dagger against the other, all thought of their duel forgotten in the face of their new enemy. Mrs. Lanyon screeched to a stop, marking the stone with her slipping hooves as she realized the room had moved somehow.

“Tsk. Tsk. How will you ever defeat the Heart of Virtue if you are unable to control your own evil?”

“Who says we’re going?” Hastie snarled. “I don’t like suicide missions.”

“It is my hope that you go, because it is the only reasonable and prudent course for you, for this world and for your world.” The voice seemed suddenly tired and worn, as if exhaustion had set in and his huge warrior companion quickly moved solicitously at his side and helped him rise. “D’lon-ra and I will let you discuss your decision until sunrise tomorrow. Then we must go|with or without you.”

Without another word the wizard, aided by the warrior, slowly and with dignity, left the room as the quartet watched in silence. When the door slammed everyone began to speak at once, but stopped as Selene raised her hand for silence. Several seconds passed as she listened intently before drawing a deep breath and sighing as she slowly sank to the floor and seated herself tailor fashion. “I was afraid they would try to block the doors and lock us in,” she explained.

“So what are we going to do?” Dr. Lanyon asked. He paced nervously; hooves echoing as each step struck the stone floor. “We’re not fighters. We’re a scientist, a housewife, and two high school football players. How could we pull off the theft of the century?”

“Let’s blow this joint,” Hastie chimed in. “This isn’t our fight. We need to get home and get our original bodies back|don’t we?” He was shocked into silence when no one, not even Dr. Lanyon, agreed.

“We have no choice. Evil is evil. It must be stopped wherever it is found. If it is not defeated here, it will follow us to our own world. We cannot permit that.”

“Yes Selene, I agree,” replied Dr. Lanyon, “but as I pointed out earlier, we are not equipped for the task at hand.”

“I will fight,” Selene crossed her arms and spoke definitively. “Regardless of what the rest of you choose, I will stay and fight.”

“You’re crazy,” Hastie stormed off to the table and angrily munched on something that looked like a pear, but tasted like a cross between a cherry and an apple. She was careful to keep herself facing away from the others.

“We must help, but we can’t,” Dr. Lanyon’s voice cracked with emotion as she struggled with her competing emotions. “We’re just not properly trained and equipped for it.”

“I’m not so sure about that Herbert.” Mrs. Lanyon had been thinking furiously while the others spoke.

“What are you talking about dear? How can we possibly consider doing something like this?”

“Herbert Lanyon the Third, his wife Emily the grade school teacher, their son and his friend who play football in high school and ogle the girls, can’t.”

“That’s what I said Emily.” Dr. Lanyon was thoroughly confused.

“Herbert,” the male centaur smiled down on his now smaller husband as he continued. “Look around you. Look carefully. What do you see? I’m not a grade school teacher and your homemaking wife, I’m a rather large an muscular centaur. You my dear husband are slightly smaller than me, but still a rather imposing figure of a centaur; and that wizard said centaurs have magic. We know we can cloud humans’ minds so they think we’re just horses. We haven’t figured it out yet, but I’ll bet that we can do a lot more.

“Hastie and Selene|I mean Jack|aren’t high school students out wandering the mall. They’re now barbarian women. Have you watched them sparing, or listened to them plan strategy? They’re naturals. In a contest between D’lon-ra and either one of them, I’d be hard pressed to guess who would win. Together, D’Lon-ra’s sure to loose.

“You said we had to help. I say we are able to help. Although our original selves might not have been up to the challenge, the way we are now, we must be able to do something.

“Besides, I couldn’t imagine living with myself knowing that I might have been able to save a world|a whole world|and did nothing.”

The others just stared, unsure what to make of the sermon that had just come from the rugged centaur. The silence grew. Hastie coughed delicately. Dr. Lanyon shuffled her hooves nervously. Finally, Selene began to slowly and rhythmically clap, soon to be joined by Dr. Lanyon and finally even Hastie.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Five:

Initiation Sequence

We must travel in the direction of our fears.

| John Berryman

“What’s the drill?”

It had been touch and go for most of the night, but now that the blonde barbarian woman finally agreed to join the quest, she was impatient to get started and stood fidgeting with her sword hilt as they stood about in the throne room. She wasn’t alone as no one seemed to be eating the expansive breakfast that had been set out.

“Understand I do not, young lady. A marching contest this is not.” Akcuanrut was confused.

“She means tell us what we need to do and what kind of problems can we expect along the way.” Over the course of the night Emily had emerged as the group’s spokescreature. It was a measure of the changes that had been occurring in their minds as well as their bodies that bubbly Emily, the mother, had become serious, task oriented Emily, the centaur stallion.

The others had changed too. Dr. Lanyon had changed from stuffy, pedantic scientist to nurturing centaur mare. Jack and Hastie had changed from fun loving high school jocks to fiery tempered barbarian warrior women. Hastie was now even insisting that she be called Rhea.

The changes were not lost on Akcuanrut, but he did not offer his observations aloud.

“Oh. Well. Ah. As earlier I said, recover the Heart of Virtue we must. Discover the location of the Portal of Death, we must do and without dying figure out how to pass through it.

“Then through the Caves of Despair we must pass. No idea what horrors await us there I have. Done that and returned one ever has.

“Finally, fight the Guardian of the Heart we must, probably Na-Noc; mentioned him before I did, the Ex-Emperor’s Champion.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rhea interrupted. “Go on. What else. I want to get this over with.”

“All there is that is, except that back to the College of Wizards we must then get the Heart. Use all their available resources to stop us during the trip back it is reasonable to assume the Dark Gods will.”

“Whoa up there,” Rhea interrupted, tapping her foot in exasperation. “We agreed to help get the darned thing. Surely once you have it you can get it back to the College, can’t you?”

The wizard’s response was so quiet that it was almost missed by the others. “We must.”

“Yeah, right. So where’s the portal?”

“Take care, woman. D’lon-ra placed a hand on Rhea’s shoulder but she brushed it off. “Your haste may be your undoing.”

“Hey. Funny,” Selene smirked as she changed to an atrocious French accent. Rhea’s haste eez likely to be her undoing,” she paraphrased huge man beside her, smiling even more. “I like that.”

“Shut up you dumb broad.”

“Who’s a dumb broad you...”

“CHILDREN!” Emily Lanyon’s bellow shook dust from the stone ceiling. All eyes turned to the stallion, who looked as shocked as the rest. In a normal speaking volume she continued, “I think we need to focus on the problem at hand. Rhea actually asked an excellent question.”

Rhea stuck her tongue out at Selene, but did little else for fear of another deafening bellow.

“How do we locate the Portal?”

“Know I do not.” Now the faces turned to the wizard who actually squirmed a bit under their scrutiny.

“You don’t know?” Emily spoke over Rhea’s incredulous laughter.

“Rhea, you stop that this instant,” Dr. Lanyon chimed in.

“Ulp!” Rhea quickly stifled her laughter.

“The Portal of Death is said to be here in the Lost Temple of Zampulus, but its exact location is unknown and unable to magically detect it I have been. Strange this is as I normally could. Currently in use it is not and like that is the magic of the Dark Gods, undetectable when not in use.”

Herbert and Emily both glared at the two women in a preemptive attempt to avoid another snide comment. “So how do we find it?” Herbert asked for everyone.

“Know I do not, Dr. Lanyon. Checking every room I have my apprentices doing. Amazingly devious is evil. Anywhere it could be.”

“Just how big is this place?” Mrs. Lanyon had a thoughtful look on his face.

“Know I do not. Infinite it is said to be, but of course possible that is not. Without finding the portal so far, we have checked over a hundred rooms.”

“That’s the third time you’ve called this place the Lost Temple of Whozits. Why do you keep callin’ it ‘lost’ when you obviously knew where it was to find it?” Selene’s question brought another smile to Rhea’s face, but she did not make the snide retort everyone expected. Herbert Lanyon, however, made shushing gestures anyway, pointing to her wife who was obviously deep in thought.

Emily noticed them all staring at him and holding their breath. “Don’t mind me folks. I’m just trying to figure something out.” With that he wandered off toward a corner of the throne room muttering incomprehensibly. The others watched for a moment before the urgency of their situation brought them back to the task at hand.

“Ignore him. He’s concentrating on a problem. An atomic bomb could explode without him noticing,” Dr. Lanyon sighed at her wife’s poor timing.

“So why is it called the Lost Temple?” Rhea wasn’t giving up on her question.

“Oh, very well. Nothing can we do until the Portal we find.” Akcuanrut settled himself more comfortably on the throne. “Until about a month before this expedition, the Temple of Zampulus was nothing more than a legend, but even as a legend is has always been called ‘lost.’ Constructed before recorded history and abandoned millennia a ago, it is the opinion of our historians at the College that the term referred to the fact that this was such a place of intense evil that all who entered lost their souls.

“That’s it,” Emily Lanyon shouted with gleeful enthusiasm.

“What’s ‘it’ dear?”

“’It’ is the Portal. I know where the Portal has to be.”

“Well, tell us, man. Tell us.” D’lon-ra, who had been silent the whole time, was suddenly before Emily, nearly jumping up and down in excitement. Rhea absently noted that the Champion was nearly as tall as the male centaur, but took the precaution of surreptitiously drawing her dagger and hiding it in her palm just in case as she saw her father charging protectively between the two.

“Friends, please. Speak let him,” Akcuanrut beseeched the group as he rose and made an arcane gesture. Suddenly, D’lon-ra uttered a surprised yelp as his feet left the ground and he floated gently to the side of the throne where Akcuanrut stood.

“Be at ease D’lon-ra. Speak Let him.”

“The answer,” Mrs. Lanyon could not resist pontificating, “was simple once deductive reasoning was applied.” He paused and beamed down at his waiting students.

“So what’s the answer already, Mom?”

With an annoyed glance at Rhea, he continued. “What is evil? It is the absence of all things good, like love, respect, trust...” Another pause.

“Enough with the classroom lecture. A little help here please, Dad. How about making Mom give the short answer for once.”

“Rhea, be polite to your fa...mo…be polite,” Herbert Lanyon snorted.

With a hurt look at Rhea, and a thank you glance at her husband, Emily Lanyon continued. “But that was the key. Trust; evil cannot trust. It must directly control all events because it cannot trust others to love, respect, or fear it enough to do its bidding. In effect, good is unity while evil is solidarity.”

“Some of us are still in high school,” Rhea snorted in annoyance. “Will you please tell us in simple terms what the heck you’re talking about.”

“But I just did. Because evil cannot trust, it must place those things of value to it where it can be certain of its safety. The Portal must be here, in this room, in Evil’s throne room.”

“But examined first this room was,” Akcuanrut objected. “Here it cannot be.”

“Why?” Dr. Lanyon challenged. “Why can it not be in this room? How do you know what you’re even looking for if you’ve never seen it?”

“A wizard am I,” Akcuanrut spoke with all the hauteur of someone long used to being deferred to, “and a thing of magic the Portal of Death be, of the Dark Gods a creation true, but magic none the less. To be aware I could not possibly fail to be were it here.”

“Just because the ‘Dark Gods,’ as you call them, have the ability to perform magic does not mean that they have to use magic. The best way for a magical being to do the unexpected would be to use other than magic.”

Akcuanrut’s mouth opened several times before any words came out and then he did a jig as he proclaimed, “Non-magical! Of course, other than magic a magical being using. Brilliant that be,” he effused. “But in this room it would be where?”

“That I don’t know,” Emily responded as the level of excitement in the room plummeted, “but I’ll bet Jack does.”

“Jack?” Akcuanrut and D’lon-ra spoke in unison. When no one answered, D’lon-ra tried again. “What’s a Jack?”

Emily merely gazed calmly at Selene, joined by Dr. Lanyon and Rhea. The other two followed their gaze to Selene.

“I thought her name was Selene?” D’lon-ra missed the wizard’s question as he examined the barbarian woman carefully trying to discover what a ‘jack’ was.

“It is now. It was Jack when she was a male on our world.” Selene crossed her arms and glared at Mrs. Lanyon in a snit as she noticed D’lon-ra staring at her confusedly.

“She was an amateur magician on our world where magic doesn’t really exist. That means she knows all sorts of illusions; tricks for making things seem magical when they really aren’t. I’ll bet she can find a hidden mechanism of some sort.”

Selene used her most exaggerated strut as she walked to the throne. Passing Mrs. Lanyon, she hissed, “I’ll get you for that.”

She muttered aloud as she roughly pulled Akcuanrut from the throne and examined it; feeling each crevice.

“Close to evil. Probably the throne. Somewhere it can be reached easily yet it’s got to be unobtrusive so that others won’t find it. Hiding it in plain sight or misdirection seem the most likely options.”

Her hands moved lightly but slowly along one armrest and then the other, feeling for lumps, bumps and anything moveable. At the gnarled hand rest on the left side of the elaborate seat her frown of concentration turned to a smile.

“I think I’ve found it.”

“Devious, dear,” Dr. Lanyon worriedly called out to her wife. “You said they were devious. It might be a...”

“There,” Selene cried out in triumph and stood back waiting. Suddenly there was a wooshing sound. Rhea was instantly crouched back to back with D’lon-ra, shield held above her, sword out and presented. D’lon-ra had fluidly matched her actions. At the same time Dr. Lanyon screamed and cowered behind her wife who put her arms protectively about her as hundreds of small darts whistled from holes in the ceiling down on the troupe covering every inch of the large room except a small area immediately around the throne.

Inches from Emily’s head they suddenly stopped, suspended in mid air close enough to see a strangely colored stain on the otherwise shiny tip of each. As they watched in awe, the hovering darts slowly began to float in mass towards the corner farthest from everyone, bunching into a tight clump like a swirling swarm of bees. When they were no longer likely to strike anyone they fell with multiple pings to the floor.

Selene was the first to recover. “Sorry.”

“Next time, give a little more warning,” Akcuanrut fumed, slowly lowering his hands and then slumping to the floor by the throne. “It’s not easy to control so many objects.”

“Sorry,” she again called over her shoulder as she returned to examining the throne. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Several more minutes passed as Selene carefully examined the throne and its pedestal. Fingers gently caressed the hard stone surfaces as the others watched warily. Finally, she stood and turned to the group. “I found two loose segments that might be switches. One is by the right armrest by this fluted hand rest,” she pointed, “and the other is on the left inside leg. If you folks are ready, I’ll try the one on the armrest.”

The barbarian woman waited as each of the others assumed a defensive or protective position like before. Mrs. Lanyon surveyed the others and then nodded. They all held their breaths and waited for they knew not what as Selene pushed the button.

And pushed it again.

And pushed it yet a third time.

“So push it already,” Rhea grumped. “I’m getting tired of standing here, hunched over, waitin’ for the sky to fall.

“I did, Rhea. Three times now.”

“So what happened? Did we die and I missed it, or what?”

“Mind your tongue, Rhea,” Dr. Lanyon quickly interjected before turning back to Selene. “You’re the expert here dear. What does it mean?”

“I think it means that this was just a loose setting and not a hidden switch. If everyone’s ready, I’ll try the other one.”

Once again everyone braced themselves. Akcuanrut grumbled, “Do it already.”

Selene pushed the button. Then she pushed it again, but nothing happened.

“Damn it, work!”

She kicked the throne and heard a faint click. Kicking it again, she was rewarded with a deep scraping sound as the throne and its pedestal began creeping backward, revealing a gaping, stygian pit.

“Yes!” Selene did a brief victory dance and Rhea joined in as Akcuanrut and D’lon-ra watched in confusion.

“Is it the Portal of Death?” asked the ever practical Emily.

“From the waves of evil magic emanating from you pit, I suspect so,” was Akcuanrut’s response. “Well then, let’s go. I’ll lead. Just collect my apprentices let me.”

“Wrong.”

Rhea’s and Selene’s response was in unison again, but then Rhea elaborated. “D’lon-ra and I will lead as there may be non-magical traps and ambushes. The centaurs will flank you wizard, and Selene will cover out backs.

“There’s no time for apprentices. We need to travel light and fast to surprise whatever might be waiting for us in there.”

“But .. but...” Akcuanrut sputtered until D’lon-ra intervened.

“She’s right. Their blundering about would be the death of us all; besides, time is precious. The only change I recommend is Selene at point with me and Rhea as rear guard. Selene has proven her ability to identify and deal with me-can-i-cal,” he spoke each syllable separately, as if the word was unfamiliar to him, “traps.”

“Oh, very well,” Akcuanrut grudgingly conceded. “Time is of the essence.”

“Fine,” Rhea interrupted. “Now that that’s resolved, shall we go?” She and Selene moved to the food table and stuffed several fruits into their backpacks.

“A question, before we depart,” Emily interjected. “How do Herbert and I get down there?”

“Why float, of course,” Akcuanrut was surprised by the question. “With the magic of centaurs are you not familiar?”

“We’ve only been centaurs a couple of days. Until then we weren’t even aware that centaurs really existed. We have no idea what centaurs can do.”

“Oh my, remedy that immediately we must. You can...”

D’lon-ra interrupted. “Save that for the trip, Master. We need to get moving now.”

“You have a hunch?” D’lon-ra nodded.

“Very well. Nearly as good as a seeming D’lon-ra’s hunches are. On the way speak we will.” With that he also took several fruits and headed for the entrance to the pit.

“Uh-hum.”

“Yes?” the wizard asked as he turned back to the centaurs.

“How do we float?”

“Oh, of course. All volitional centaur magic is. Happen, it will, if you want it to.”

When both centaurs looked at him in confusion, he elaborated. “Try it here. Jump and will yourself to float.”

“Okay.” However, it was clear they were not convinced. Still, they tried. Herbert and Emily separated a few feet as they moved to one side of the huge room. Turning Emily jumped first|and found himself with his arms outstretched protecting his head from the ceiling, easily 30 feet in the air.

Landing as lightly as a feather at the other side of the room, she called enthusiastically back to Herbert, “Herbert! You must try this! It feels fantastic.”

Before Herbert could leap, he was in the air again, landing lightly beside his husband and slapping her on the rump. The centaur mare gave a surprised leap and then realized that she too could float.

Landing, she quickly turned and jumped again, only to be met in mid-air by her wife who “high fived” her as he passed her. As each landed they turned and prepared to jump again, smiling like school children at play. Selene let them jump once more before interrupting them. “Enough fun. Lets go folks.”

One more leap and they were at the pit and ready to leap in. Only Akcuanrut’s stiff warning prevented it.

“Wait. No magical traps I need to be sure there are.”

He stood concentrating for several seconds and then made an abrupt up and down gesture.

“Free of magical traps it is, at least for the first hundred feet or so. Selene, for mechanical traps would you please make a similar check?”

Without a word, Selene knelt beside the entry and examined the edges. As if anticipating her thoughts, Rhea brought over a wall torch and dropped it into the pit.

They all watched the torch as it dropped, and dropped, and eventually disappeared without landing.

“I think we’ve got a problem,” was Rhea’s understated comment.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Six:

Spelunking For Spooks

He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision,

-- he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath --

“The horror! The horror!”

| Teodor Josef Konrad Korzeniowski (Joseph Conrad)

“Wrong now, what is it?” Akcuanrut asked in irritation. Now that he’d agreed to move quickly, he was anxious to get moving.

“No bottom,” Selene cursed. “The darned pit’s effectively got no bottom.

“Fly us all to the ground, I can.”

“I think not,” Dr. Lanyon rejoined the conversation. “Can you fly us and also respond to any magical threats?”

“But try, I can.”

“You don’t sound very certain, and that’s all right as I don’t think you need to do both.”

“Huh?” Rhea’s ears perked up. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean your mother and I can float us to a soft landing.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Selene stood and brushed off her hands. “I can’t find any more traps so let’s go.”

With a sly smile at Rhea, Selene jumped on Mrs. Lanyon’s back and called out, “I call dibs on riding with D’lon-ra.”

“What? No way.”

“Hey you got to cuddle with the big guy when the darts were falling. It’s my turn.”

“Children. Stop,” Mrs. Lanyon gently pushed between the two before swords were drawn and spoke with his “it’s final and that’s it” voice. “D’lono-ra and Selene will ride on my back while Akcuanrut and Rhea will ride on Herbert’s back. I’m bigger at the moment and so I should be able to carry the weight more easily than Herbert.”

Grumbling, and with only one snort of laughter by Rhea about the weight comment, the girls took their places. All four humans carried a torch in one hand and a weapon in the other. Even Akcuanrut carried a short sword.

Mrs. Lanyon crossed his fingers. Dr. Lanyon silently mouthed, “I love you.” Taking each other’s hands they walked to the edge and leaped.

~~~ oOo ~~~

As soon as everyone realized they were still alive and floating everyone exhaled in unison. Slowly, like a glider, they circled each other as they fell lower and lower down the dank stone well. They fell hundreds of feet. The bottom was still lost in darkness and the opening beneath the throne through which they had jumped was a pinpoint above them.

D’lon-ra was fist to spy the tunnel, a roughly circular section of greater darkness. As Akcuanrut frantically braced himself to react instantaneously to any magical attack, Selene squinted intently as she examined the fast approaching entrance for any mechanical traps. One last circle and they were in and skidding to a stop as everyone cheered.

“The tunnel ahead is quite straight,” D’lon-ra observed. “It too seems to go on forever.”

“The Caves of Despair, they are,” Akcuanrut intoned solemnly. “The waves of pain and helplessness, can you feel them not?” The others paused to examine their surroundings and themselves and slowly, unwillingly nodded in agreement.

“No stinkin’ feeling is gonna get to me.” Rhea declared and with that, she turned and began to walk down the tunnel.

“Wait a minute, moron,” Selene shouted as she bolted after her and grabbed her twin by the shoulder. “There are too many risks for you to be wondering off by yourself.”

“Like you’re gonna stop me?” Rhea sneered. Her dagger appeared in her hand.

“Rhea! Think! We’ve got to work together.” Selene pleaded, but that didn’t stop a dagger from appearing in her hand too.

They danced about as each made exploratory feints, not realizing that the others had caught up to them until they suddenly found that they could not move. Akcuanrut had frozen them with his magic, again. Both struggled helplessly until their faces were bright red. Tears began to trickle from Rhea’s eyes.

“Agitated depression,” Dr. Lanyon spoke with clinical detachment. “Sometimes when people are depressed, they fight against it producing what appears to be a state of agitation, usually including aggression. Hold them while I look for something in my backpack.”

D’lon-ra moved behind Rhea while Emily Lanyon moved behind Selene. Each took a firm grip on the barbarian woman before him and held tight as Akcuanrut released his hold on them.

Suddenly able to move, each gave a tremendous shriek and began struggling as if possessed, but their captors merely waited stoically until they were spent. By that time, Dr. Lanyon had finished digging in his backpack and was holding a whispered conversation with Akcuanrut. The wizard muttered something, waved a finger at something in the doctor’s hand and then they both turned back to the still struggling girls.

“Akcuanrut has enhanced the effect of this St. John’s Wart. It should be more than strong enough to counteract any of the depressive effects of this benighted place.” The girls had stopped struggling as Dr. Lanyon spoke, although they continued to glare maliciously at each other.

“I want each of you, in fact every one of us, to take one,” Hatie’s father offered small pieces of dried, whitish root to each girl. “You two first. If we release you will you take it?”

It took a few moments, but eventually each agreed, and when released took the proffered root, swallowed quickly, and gagged at its bitter taste.

“Yuck. That stuff tastes terrible.”

“True,” Dr. Lanyon agreed grimacing as she swallowed a piece herself, “but it will help us. Now, do you still feel angry?”

Rhea and Selene examined themselves. “No,” they spoke in unison again. “No. We feel fine.”

“Then,” the good doctor used her best imitation of John Wayne, which was just as bad as the girl’s attempts and said, “let’s roll them wagons, Pilgrims.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

“How long have we been marching?” Mrs. Lanyon grumped. “My hooves are getting sore.”

“It does seem like a long time,” Dr. Lanyon agreed. “Maybe we should take a break.” The chorus of cheers made it clear everyone was in agreement.

“How long does this thing go on for?”

“Good question, Selene,” Rhea seconded her.

“Know, I do not,” Akcuanrut replied as he slid to the ground and groaned, “but much longer, we cannot go on.”

“So what do we do?” the ever practical Mrs. Lanyon asked.

“Try something, we do. Thought of it earlier, I should have.” Akcuanrut asked D’lon-ra for an arrow from his quiver. Next he took a small ball of twine from his own backpack and tied it to the back of the arrow, just in front of the feathers. Balancing the arrow chest high on one finger he muttered and the arrow began to vibrate. Akcuanrut dropped his finger and the arrow remained floating in the air. One last word and it shot forward to the limits of the attached line and then hung there like a dog straining at the end of its leash.

“Follow this, we do.” With more groans, everyone stood and slogged off behind the overeager arrow.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Break time.” Rhea didn’t wait for anyone to disagree as she slid to the ground.

“Who wants the last of the water?” Selene shook the water skin and everyone listened as it barely made any sound.

“We can’t go on like this,” Emily Lanyon observed tiredly.

“Still ahead the arrow points.”

“True, but why does it wobble every hundred feet or so?” Dr. Lanyon wondered aloud as she watched it wobble again.

“No idea do I have. Currents of magic there may be.”

“Maybe...maybe...may...mo....” Dr. Lanyon began digging frantically through her backpack. Shortly she had the laser pointer in her hand and assumed her lecturer’s stance.

“Aw geez, Dad,” Rhea groaned. “Can’t ya just tell us? I’m too tired for a lecture.”

“Hush, Rhea. Listen to your father,” Mrs. Lanyon’s deep voice boomed.

“Thank you, dear,” Dr. Lanyon smiled appreciatively at her wife. “I am unsure of the accuracy of my speculations so I would prefer to explain my thoughts on the chance that even if I am incorrect, they will jog someone else so that the correct solution presents itself.

“Does everyone know what a Mobius strip is? Anyone? Anyone?”

Emily Lanyon cleared his voice to remind his husband to keep to the point.

“Ah, yes. Never mind. Well, a Mobius strip is basically a one sided shape. You can make a representation of one by taking a strip of paper and making it into a loop. If you trace it there are two sides, a top and a bottom, but if you take one edge and twist it once, it only has one side.”

“Dear. You’re lecturing.”

“Sorry,” the smaller centaur cleared her throat. “If my premise is correct, this laser pointer should help prove it.” With that she turned it on and aimed it at the wall. Slowly she moved the bright red dot further and further along the wall until it was just a pinpoint in the distance, and then it was gone.

“Look.”

D’lon-ra pointed excitedly behind the group at a red dot that had appeared. Dr. Lanyon carefully, holding it very still, turned the pointer off and the dot disappeared. She turned it back on and the dot reappeared.

“I was afraid of that. We’ve been walking in circles.”

“Come on, Dad. We’ve been walking in a straight line. We never turned once.”

“That’s true, Rhea, but think of the Mobius strip. You can walk in a straight line forever.” The laser pointer was replaced by the piece of paper and her finger traced its way around the strip several times without stopping.

“But how does this explain the wobble, dear?”

“I think the wobble is where we loop back. Before the wobble the arrow correctly points forward and after the wobble it also correctly points forward, but just at the wobble, where we loop back to the beginning again, the arrow is confused. It doesn’t know where to point so it wobbles.”

“So it wobbles, Dad. So what?”

“Rhea. Think carefully. It’s the weak point. It’s where we get out.”

“How?”

“That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet.”

“Great, Dad. Build us up and drop us flat, why don’tcha?”

“Herbert Lanyon the Fourth, you apologize immediately,” Mrs. Lanyon roared.

“But,” then Rhea looked at the angry expression on her mother’s face. “I’m sorry, Dad, but how do we get out?”

“The answer to that, I may have,” Akcuanrut chimed in. “Observe.”

“Great.” Rhea poked Selene in the ribs and muttered. “Now you’ve done it. Just what we need, another lecture.”

However, instead of a lecture, Akcuanrut merely tugged gently at the arrow, pulling it back toward the group until it began to wobble again. Ever so slowly he continued to reel it in. The wobble grew more pronounced and suddenly the arrow veered off to the left flying rapidly towards the wall|and through it.

“Akcuanrut, you’ve done it,” Dr. Lanyon cheered.

“Sinister. The way of evil, of course,” but the wizard smiled as he spoke.

“But there’s no door there, just more wall. Where did the arrow go?” Mrs. Lanyon was confused.

“No dear, it just looks like a wall. Think of it as an optical illusion.”

“Okay folks, rest period is over. Let’s go kick some evil butt.” Rhea’s groan belied the enthusiasm in her voice as she slowly rose.

It was a matter of moments for Selene to check for traps and when she looked back, Akcuanrut nodded to indicate that he too had finished his examination of the unseen door.

One by one the group stepped through the wall and into a cavernous room. Every inch of the room’s circular wall was covered with images of depravity, each worse than the one before. The center of the room was a sandpit about thirty feet wide and beyond that was a huge throne composed entirely of human bones. Sitting on the throne, and by no means dwarfed by it, was a leathery-winged, muscle-bound humanoid with ruddy skin and horns. Fangs grew from its lower jaw and the eyes shone with a yellow glow that seemed to pierce the soul.

The creature’s voice was incongruously deep yet melodious. Somehow it also had a gravelly undertone that reached to the very marrow and made the bones shiver. “Greetings, D’lono-ra. It’s been a long time, old friend.”

“Na-Noc?”

“How wonderful. You remember your old teacher,” the creature rumbled.

Rhea nudged Selene. “Teacher?”

Selene just shrugged in return.

“You, vile thing, are not my friend and honored teacher,” D’lon-ra spat.

“True,” the creature’s smile showed more teeth than should ever be seen. “I was your sad, tired old friend, resting on my laurels and the table scraps of an uncaring liege, but I’m feeling much better now.”

“Na-Noc was none of those things and you defile his memory, creature of evil.”

“Oh D’lon-ra, D’lon-ra old friend. You are so, so wrong, but worry not; soon you will join with me and understand.”

“Come to me, spawn of evil,” sword drawn, the huge hero moved warily out into the center of the sandy circle. “Allow me to end your torture. Allow me to kill the evil in you so that you may die honorably and be remembered for your good deeds and glorious accomplishments.”

“Jeez,” Rhea whispered to Selene, “he’s wordy all of a sudden.”

“Yeah,” Selene agreed, but she was staring intently at the tableau before them. “Something’s wrong.”

Both women nodded imperceptibly to each, silently drew their swords and began circling in opposite directions around the edge of sand pit as No-Nac flowed to his feet and languidly ambled out onto the sand.

The huge creature stopped about ten feet from D’lon-ra. The Emperor’s Champion was huge, but the creature dwarfed him, easily twice as large with muscles on its muscles.

“Come to me little boy,” No-Nac beckoned, his grin showing yet more teeth. “Come to me if you dare.”

“D’LON-RA! NO!” Akcuanrut screamed. “IT’S A TRAP.”

“Of course it’s a trap incompetent one,” No-Nac laughed. With that he lunged with superhuman speed, not at D’lon-ra, but over his head in a flip using his wings to end up facing the hero’s back. One quick slice and D’lon-ra’s leathers were lying on the sand.

With a roar of anger D’lon-ra spun to face the creature. A short sword appeared in his left hand and sliced a wide swath at stomach height while his long sword swung out in a higher arc toward the demon’s neck.

No-Nac stood immobile as the gleaming blades approached and made contact with solid thwacking sounds, imbedding themselves a good half a foot in the creature’s body exactly where D’lon-ra and aimed. Yet rather than crumble to the ground, No-Nac stood laughing. Then his flesh closed around the blades and began flowing rapidly toward the hilt.

Before a surprised D’lon-ra could react the fast flowing flesh reached his hand and he froze. Within seconds the red flesh hand encompassed the smaller man and then the two masses combined, leaving an even larger No-Nac shaking the walls with his peals of hideous laughter.

“It’s not there little ones.”

Selene had reached the throne and was examining it, looking for the Heart of Virtue while Rhea stood by as lookout. In the meantime, Akcuanrut had been gesturing and muttering frantically. Suddenly he refocused on the events about him and stared in disbelief at No-Nac. “Of course!” he shouted to the others. “Nowhere else could it be. Within him, the Heart must be. Within him is the Heart of Virtue.”

“Oh great,” Rhea groaned. “Not only do we need to beat ‘Big Red,’ we’ve got to get that damned Heart from inside his Jell-o mold body.”

“You take the right side and I’ll take the left.” Selene cut off Rhea’s complaints and matched her words with actions. Still not sure how to help, but worried about the girls, Dr. and Mrs. Lanyon also stepped onto the sand and uncertainly moved toward the great beast.

They were graceful yet blindingly fast as they parried and sliced in perfect unison like two sides of a mirror. No-Nac was hard pressed but managing to hold his own; the fact that his injuries healed over within seconds helping greatly. It was clear to everyone there that the current stalemate would slowly turn to his favor as the girls were beginning to tire; yet No-Nac seemed indefatigable.

Off on the sidelines, Akcuanrut was still chanting and gesturing frantically but to no avail. No spell he could throw seemed to affect the great red creature.

Meanwhile, Dr. Lanyon had been watching the struggle with that detached look on her face that she always used when concentrating on a problem. As her husband yelped in fear at a narrow escape for Rhea, he withdrew from his reverie and trotted off towards Akcuanrut to whisper for a moment.

When the wizard nodded she quickly trotted around the circle to her wife and whispered to him. He too nodded and Dr. Lanyon resumed her original position opposite her wife. Both centaurs unstrung the thick ropes hanging from their saddlebags and held large loops as if preparing to jump rope.

As No-Nac extended himself on both sides to thrust at the swordswomen, Dr. Lanyon shouted, “Now!”

On cue, Akcuanrut threw a spell to freeze the air around No-Nac to create a foot thick slab of ice around his extended form. At the same time, the two centaurs flipped their ropes over its extended arms, twisted them like garrottes around each arm, and reared back to pull them tight. Seeing their opening, Selene and Rhea immediately began hacking away at his huge limbs, even as the ice began to melt away as if dropped into a blast furnace.

The advantage was theirs however. On the third roundhouse chop the arms separated causing the centaurs to stumble as they struggled to regain their balance.

As the last of the ice began to melt, the barbarian women attacked No-Nac’s legs and by the time a smaller set of replacement arms had formed, the legs too were gone. The centaurs quickly tossed their ropes around the falling legs and dragged them to yet another corner of the sand pit, far enough from the arms, that had become rippling puddles of red, that they could not easily or quickly reunite.

As a much smaller No-Nac reformed, Rhea and Selene started hacking away at the arms again. Now that a system had been developed, things moved quickly and shortly the once huge beast was little more than a quivering red blob about one foot in diameter.

Akcuanrut’s magic was much easier to focus on the smaller blob and he carefully levitated the quivering mass while Dr. Lanyon pulled a plastic tablecloth from one of his wife’s backpacks.

The two girls kept hacking away until they could see a small lump of something shiny beneath the viscous red goo. At that point Dr. Lanyon tossed the plastic over the lump, gathered the ends together and tied a bulky knot to seal whatever it was inside.

The group cautiously moved off the sand, carefully avoiding all the clumps of red. At the edge of the sand pit the humans all collapsed to the ground. All five gave a heartfelt sigh of relief.

“Is it finally over?” Emily Lanyon asked Akcuanrut.

“Over at last, it is. The journey back, all that remains is. After this, easy it should be.”

“So we can go home now?”

“Of course, you may return home,” a voice boomed deafeningly, coming from everywhere and nowhere. The others jerked in surprise as Akcuanrut struggled back to his feet and resumed a defensive posture.

“Your presence here has served as an amusing diversion, but all diversions must eventually come to an end. You may even take the Heart of Virtue with you.”

There was a tremendous rushing sound like the wind as a train rushes down a tunnel towards you. When the group thought it couldn’t get any louder there was a gigantic flash and …

~~~ oOo ~~~

BOOK TWO:

HOMOLOGOUSITY

Chapter Seven:

Home for the Hellish Days

What we call the beginning is often the end

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from.

| C. S. Eliot

“We’re home,” Mrs. Lanyon beamed as the five found themselves back in the family living room. “But how? Who was that?”

“A Dark God, that was.” Akcuanrut answered as he settled himself in to Dr. Lanyon’s favorite lounge chair with a tired groan. “Very strong magic, the Dark Gods have.”

“I wonder why he returned us here,” Dr. Lanyon mused.

“Who cares. We’re home again and I’m sure ready to get my old body back. Which backpack was it in?” Rhea’s eyes danced from centaur to centaur as she waited for one of them to tell her where the Jekyll formula was.

“What happened to the saddlebags?” Selene asked. They were missing.

“Never mind,” Rhea responded cheerfully, “we’ve got more of the formula upstairs. I know I left some in|the lab. Oh heck, THE LAB!” he screamed and ran upstairs.

“Turn off the TSP device while you’re up there Rhea. It’s the yellow switch...” Dr. Lanyon trailed off as he realized the girl was already out of sight, and probably also out of hearing range. “I’ll ask him when he comes down,” the centaur muttered to herself.

“Hmmm, it’s nice to be home, isn’t it dear,” Mrs. Lanyon sighed as he tiredly shifted hooves. “I can’t wait to get into a warm bath and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Me too,” Selene chimed in, dropping into a sprawl on the couch. “I wonder what I’m going to tell my parents when I get home.”

“Why the truth, dear. What else?” Mrs. Lanyon responded. “But please sit like a proper lady, Selene dear.”

“But I’m not a lady, or at least I won’t be when Rhea gets back here in a few moments.”

“True, but for now, please humor me, dear. It’s unseemly for a young lady to sit with her legs akimbo like that.”

Selene sighed and changed position after a wistful glance up the stairs. Where was Rhea already, she wondered.

Dr. Lanyon had other priorities. “I’m going to turn on the television set. I wonder how long we’ve been gone and what we’ve missed?”

Dr. Lanyon carefully maneuvered around the coffee table to reach it. Turning it on, he flipped to the cable news channel. Seconds later all conversation except the muted sounds of the television stopped as Rhea dejectedly dragged herself back into the living room.

“The lab|everything in it that wasn’t bolted down, great-grandfather’s journal, all my vials of the formula|gone. It’s like a tornado hit up there|a TSP tornado. It’s just an empty room.

Even the TSP device is gone.”

Mrs. Lanyon hissed in shock while Dr. Lanyon slid her hand into her wife’s but said nothing. It was unclear who was most comforted by the action.

Rhea slumped to the couch and Selene glided to her side and put an arm over her shoulder to comfort her. “It’s not that bad, Rhea.”

“Whaddya mean ‘not that bad’?”

“We’re all alive.” Suddenly Selene’s eyes budged as she realized what she had said. “All of us but D’lon-ra that is.”

“D’lon-ra,” Rhea whispered. “What a horrible way to die.”

“For a noble cause, his death was,” Akcuanrut offered. “The survival of a world, maybe many worlds. Remembered he will be, when I get back.”

“But we’re stuck like this,” Rhea wailed although it wasn’t clear whether the emotional display was for her body or the lost hero.

“Change you back, maybe I can,” Akcuanrut opined.

Rhea glared up at the wizard. “You could have changed us back at any time and you didn’t? Why the heck not?”

“Herbert Lanyon the Fourth, you know I will not accept such language in my home.”

“Sorry, Mom, but why did he leave us like this if he could have changed us back?”

“For your safety,” Dr. Lanyon interrupted before Akcuanrut could respond.

“Huh?”

“For your safety, Rhea. You were a fit and healthy young man, but how much did you know about swordplay?”

“Come on Pop. You know my sport is football.”

“That’s exactly correct, Rhea. You are|er, were|a quarterback. What skills would you have brought to the quest we just completed as a football player?”

“I...Ah...Oh, heck,” Rhea glanced over to his mother for support, but she seemed to be assiduously watching the television. “That’s not the point. We shouldda been given a choice.”

“Rhea, Rhea, Rhea,” Dr. Lanyon tsked. “What choices? We barely survived. Look how often the skills Selene and you brought to our group made the difference between life and death.”

Rhea puffed up a bit as she listened to her father. “Yeah, I guess so. But where did we get those skills anyway?”

“Answer that I can,” Akcuanrut chimed in. “Rules of magic there are and the Law of Similarity is one.”

“What the he...heck is he talking about?”

“Oh, Rhea,” Dr. Lanyon heaved a huge sigh. “Sometimes I lament for your education. May I?” The female centaur deferred to the wizard who gestured his permission.

“Can you state the Laws of Thermodynamics, Rhea?”

“Of course. The First Law is...”

“That’s all right, Rhea. You don’t have to recite them, merely recognize that they exist.”

“Why?” Rhea pouted prettily. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well, science has rules. The Laws of Thermodynamics are just one example. Magic has rules too.” Dr. Lanyon glanced at the wizard for confirmation and Akcuanrut smiled back in agreement.

“But the rules of magic are different from the rules of science. I think one of the rules of magic is that function follows form.”

“Correct, centaur,” the wizard nodded.

Selene scratched her head, “Isn’t that backwards? I thought it was form follows function.”

“Normally it would be,” Dr. Lanyon paused. “No, I misspoke. Here, on this world, where science rules, the hypothesis would be ‘form follows function.’ Thus, a pair of scissors would be shaped with a sharp edge in order to be able to cut paper.

“On Akcuanrut’s world, where magic rules, it is the opposite and function follows form.”

“Fine, but if the lecture’s over, Dad, I still don’t understand.”

Dr. Lanyon threw her hands up and her wife stepped between the two before his husband began to lecture again. “Let me try, dear.”

Without waiting for a response, Emily began. “It’s like right and left, yin and yang...”

“Yeah, I get it, Mom. They’re opposites.”

“Right, dear, but magic and science are true opposites.”

“So what’s with the function follows form?”

“They mean you got the shape of a barbarian woman so you start to think and act like a barbarian woman, Dumbo,” Selene scowled and sprawled on the couch taking Mrs. Lanyon’s place watching the television.

Rhea scowled back at Selene, and considered the beautiful intricacies of shape and form inherent in the image of her dagger sticking out of Selene’s back. Then, Rhea complimented herself on herself control as she grudgingly decided not to put action to her thoughts.

“What are we going to do with the Heart of Virtue?” Dr. Lanyon asked, trying to change the subject before there was actual bloodshed.

“A good question, that is.” Akcuanrut tapped his chin in thought. “This dimension I know not, but someplace safe we need until sure you are all right I am. Then take it with me I will.”

“That’s it, dear,” Mrs. Lanyon spoke up. “The safe in the lab.”

“Of course. That’s perfect...but how are we going to get it there?” Dr. Lanyon made a broad sweeping movement to display her equine half.

“Whoa up a moment,” Rhea smiled at the dour looks on her parents’ faces. “He’s a wizard. He said he could change us back. Let him change us back and then he can take the Heart whereever he wants.”

All eyes were on Akcuanrut. “Do that I cannot.”

“Why not? You are a wizard, aren’t you?”

“A wizard I am, but here a poor one. Little magic in this world there is.”

“Of course. The magic. That’s why I felt wrong.” Mrs. Lanyon’s expression made it clear he agreed with his husband. “In the other world I felt a constant flow of energy that I could tap, but here it’s barely a trickle.”

“So we’re stuck?” Rhea’s hands went to her mouth in shock. “What are we going to do? What will Selene tell her parents?” She stopped a minute. Something was wrong, something she’d said. “And why are we still calling her Selene?”

“Slow down Rhea,” his parents laughed. “We are what we are. Centaur or human, scientist or wizard, it doesn’t matter. We are alive and a family and we will survive no matter what form we happen to have.”

“Great, I’m a babe. You’re both half horse. That’s it?”

“Does it matter that you are female instead of male? I would think your father and I would have much more reason than you to be upset, we changed sex and we changed species | to one that doesn’t even exist on this world. In this world we are as unique as the Heart of Virtue. Think what others would do were they to discover our existence.”

“Well spoken, Emily. And as to Selene’s parents, we should probably call them over and explain to them personally. Our families have been close for so long, I’m sure they will understand and help.”

While the Lanyon’s were talking, Akcuanrut dragged the plastic wrapped Heart of Virtue over to his seat and opened it. One glance inside and he quickly interrupted the others.

“Gone, it is.”

“Huh? What’s gone? Don’t you dare tell us the Dark Gods have the Heart of Virtue after all this.”

“No. Safe is the Heart. Missing is No-Nac, or what was left of him.”

“So the Dark Gods probably kept him back in the other world, right?”

“Keep him they could not. Too close to the Heart he was.”

“What’s that mean?” Rhea asked.

“Very strong magic the Heart is, even stronger than a Dark God, which is why need it we do. By the physical actions of others it can be moved, but no effect on it magic may have. When let us keep it he said, bluffing was the Dark God. To make it was not a choice he had, unless fight us for it he wished to do.”

“You mean No-Nac fell out and is now a slimy puddle on the rug somewhere?” Akcuanrut didn’t answer, but it was clear that he doubted the truth of Rhea’s assessment of No-Nac’s absence.

“So, what you’re telling us is, we’ve got a missing blob of evil creeping around somewhere?”

The wizard nodded.

“Okay folks. I think it’s officially time for a brief psychotic break. Who’s first?”

“Rhea dear, let’s try keeping focused on helpful thoughts,” Mrs. Lanyon chided his son. “I would think our first considerations would be to get the Heart of Virtue to a safe place and then figure out how we’re going to survive until we can return to our original forms.”

“I thought we agreed on locking the Heart in our safe?”

“Yes dear, but you and I are not designed to go up or down stairs right now. Rhea will have to do it.”

“Sure. Okay. Give it to me.” In an instant she was gone. Moments later, she returned to find everyone laughing.

“What’s so funny? A gal could get paranoid here.”

Taking several gulps of air, Selene regained enough control to explain. “We were worried about being able to move about in this world, but that won’t be a problem, at least tonight.”

Selene pointed to the television set. The noon news was on, showing the date and a group of costumed kids. It took a few moments to sink in, but the date was October 31 --Halloween.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Eight:

Tricks And Treats

If you can remain calm and collected amid all this confusion, you don’t understand the problem.

| Unknown

Vfrgoysl peeked out into the great opening. It was dark, but he could see clearly. Nothing moved. With an inaudible sigh, he scurried forward keeping to edge of the wall as he scanned the vast expanse before him seeking food. Hunger drove him. It always drove him, and it was not just his own hunger but the hunger of the many mouths of his children and his children’s children.

There! Food! A large blob of something pulsating slightly, but otherwise unmoving. It was enough to feed his entire family for several days. Vfrgoysl salivated in anticipation, but it was in the open. He would have to move away from the safety of the wall. He would have to move into the open where the giants lived, where blindingly bright light could appear without warning and where huge objects could drop down on you from nowhere to crush you.

There really was no choice and Vfrgoysl knew it. The hunger would consume him otherwise. His family would die; the thousands of them. Another quick scurry brought him to within mandible-reach of the blob.

From this close, it was clearly pulsating and Vfrgoysl twitched his antennas as he tried to sense whether it was truly edible. The faint cloying odor was all he needed to convince himself. He stretched a mandible to taste of the delicacy before him and found himself stuck. His mandible seemed to be rapidly sinking in, deeper and deeper. He jerked once, trying to back away from this new threat, but could not free himself.

Within seconds the blob had engulfed Vfrgoysl and less than a minute later he had been completely absorbed. Vfrgoysl was no more, but a small portion of him, his knowledge and his emotions, lived on. Non-Nac grumbled at how slowly he was regaining his original mass. At this rate, one cockroach at a time, it would take forever.

Using the information he had obtained from Vfrgoysl he reformed himself into a gigantic version of the cockroach and scurried off toward his nest. There were a couple thousand morsels of food waiting for No-Nac and the sooner he could regain his original size and reclaim the Heart of Virtue, the sooner he could petition the Dark Gods to return him to his homeland.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Emily?” Herbert Lanyon whined as she plucked at her bra straps, irritated by their foreign feel and not any more comfortable with the smooth silky feeling of her blouse.

“Yes, dear?” Emily Lanyon asked as he stopped and looked up from the hay he was spreading about with his hooves in the makeshift stall they had created on one side of the family’s attached garage.

“Stop kicking the hay around and listen to me please. I’m worried about how the Uttersons will handle this.”

“Some privacy, would you two like?” Akcuanrut glanced over from the workbench, clearly entranced by the various power tools and hoping he would be able to continue his examination.

“No, perhaps you can help,” Emily waved him over. With a last wistful glance towards the workbench, he joined the two centaurs.

“We’ve done what we can. The kids will get another copy of the Jekyll formula from our safe deposit box on Monday. Selene even found an all night feed and grain store that delivered feed and that hay you were just kicking about. Darn, I feel like I just did a commercial for the Yellow Pages.”

Emily smiled politely at his husband’s attempt at humor, but Akcuanrut stopped sneaking glances to the workbench long enough to give the female centaur a quizzical look.

“Sorry,” she blushed and explained about indexed business listings. Before she could return to the original topic of discussion, the doorbell rang.

“Oh dear, I guess we’ll have to wing it.”

“Don’t worry, Herbert,” Emily assured her as he reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind his husband’s ear. “The Uttersons are our friends. They’ll understand.”

With that they all moved to a position behind the four foot high barrier that had been constructed earlier. The barrier was designed to block the centaur’s lower body from view until their new forms could be presented in a manner designed to avoid shocking their friends.

They could hear questioning voices approaching. “Is my tie straight?”

Herbert glanced critically at her wife and nodded, reaching out to grasp his hand and squeeze it nervously.

“Emily? Herbert? Are you really out there? Is this another one of your Halloween pranks? And where did you get these two darling girls to pretend to be barbarian swordswomen?...” the cultured “Vassar-trained voice” trailed off as Mrs. Lucille Utterson preceded her husband George into the garage. She stopped short when she saw Herbert Lanyon, his wife Emily, and a stranger with flowing white hair standing uncomfortably behind a plywood counter.

George had been paying too much attention to the two barbarian women to notice his wife had stopped and bumped into her. “Sorry, dear. Must have tripped,” he smiled endearingly at her scowl.

“My Gawd, Emily, you’ve turned the garage into a stable,” Lucille clapped her hands in excitement as she turned back to the centaurs. “I can’t wait to see what’s next.”

As they had previously agreed, Dr. Lanyon responded as if she were her wife, or at least tried to, but Lucille had already turned to Akcuanrut. "And who might you be, sir? As you're here I'm sure you must be a good friend of the Lanyon's, but in that marvelous costume, I don't recognize you."

"Lucille!"

"Yes, Emily?" Lucille turned back to Dr. Lanyon with a perplexed look.

"Please sit down," Dr. Lanyon gestured to the chairs that had been positioned just inside the garage, facing the barrier the Lanyons were standing behind. "We absolutely MUST talk."

"Why of course, Emily," she sounded hurt. "Why didn't you say so? Come, dear," Lucille gestured to her husband to follow, then marched haughtily to a chair and waited for her husband to seat her. Making a production of smoothing out her skirt, Lucille finally looked inquisitively up at the two centaurs standing behind the barricade. "What would you like to say, dear?"

Hiding her face behind her hand as she pretended to clear her throat, Dr. Lanyon muttered just loud enough for her wife to hear. "Sometimes I don't know how you've put up with her all these years, Emily.

"We," she continued aloud facing the others, "Dr. Lanyon and I, need to tell you a story. On first blush, it will seem a rather outlandish tale, so I must ask you both to bear with us until the end.”

"Why Emily, this sounds positively conspiratorial," Lucille beamed, "like in college when we|George, stop poking me."

"Lucille!"

"Yes, Emily? Oh, of course. Your story."

With the skill of a career academician, Herbert Lanyon III, MD, Ph.D., female centaur, described the events of the preceding few days in excruciating detail, successfully transforming the family's incredible adventure into a report suitable for the driest technical journal. Mr. Utterson sat listening intently while his wife allowed the tale to progress to its eventual conclusion, albeit not without some foot-tapping and a stifled yawn or two.

At the conclusion, Mr. Utterson peered at one Lanyon and then the other before speaking. "That was a fascinating story, Emily, although presented in a manner more like what I would expect from your husband," he nodded cheerily at the male centaur he assumed to be Herbert Lanyon. "Definitely not up to your usual standards of entertainment. But certainly you are not purporting to claim it as whole cloth, are you?"

"Of course it's true, dear," Lucille interrupted as she gave a broad wink at the person she thought was Emily. "After all, you know sorority sisters never lie to one another."

"Rhea. Selene. Would you take your positions please?" At Emily's deep voice boomed out, the twins quickly moved to stand at ease behind the Utterson's chairs.

"Thank you. Now Akcuanrut, would you please remove the barrier?" The wizard grumbled at being asked to perform manual labor, but rolled the barrier away to reveal the Lanyons in their full glory.

"Well really! Emily Lanyon, I'm shocked. Cover yourself up this instant." Sandra quickly scanned the garage seeking something to throw over her old friend, apparently standing naked from the waist down before her|and, more importantly, her husband.

Spying an old blanket in a corner, covering the gas barbeque grill for the winter, she stood to rush over and grab it|or at least tried to stand|but two strong hands snaked out from behind her and held her immobile in her chair.

"I say, what's the meaning of this?" George began to rise and also found himself held firmly in his seat as the woman behind him said, "Sorry, Dad," and confused him even more. Then, everyone tried to speak at once. Finally, a plaster cracking bellow from Emily Lanyon silenced the others and in the silence, Herbert called to Akcuanrut, "Why do they see us as humans? What's wrong|er, or should I say right?"

"Magic it is, your centaur magic. In a land of humans safest to be perceived as human it is, so as human you are perceived."

"So how do we let them see us as we are?"

"Wish it so, you must. Your magic it is and to you it answers."

The two centaurs glanced at each other. Emily shrugged his shoulders and they both closed their eyes and concentrated. The Uttersons' gasps told them it had worked.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Selene was sprawled lazily on the living room couch watching the twenty-four hour news channel.

"Jeez. You'd think you'd never seen a TV before." Rhea playfully ruffled Selene’s reddish blond hair as she ambled past on the way to the lounge chair. On the news was a story about the theft of several lab rats being used to test a potential cancer cure. A spokesman for the laboratory was noting that the loss of the animals would delay testing for at least a year.

"Who the hell would want to steal a couple of white rats?" Rhea wondered aloud.

"Got me," Selene picked at a piece of loose fabric. "Maybe we should investigate, Frank."

"Right Joe," Rhea snorted. "But your reference is messed up. The Hardy Boys were|well, boys|or haven't you looked in a mirror lately?"

"True. Maybe Nancy Drew would be better|or how about the Bobbsey Twins?"

"Wasn't one of them a boy? I vaguely recall my mother once lecturin’ me on them when I was a kid and didn't want to learn to read."

"Probably," Selene turned off the television and rolled onto her stomach to face Rhea. "But who really cares? Are you as bored as I am?"

"Yup, and unless you feel like some sword practice we're probably gonna to stay bored. You know how damned long it takes our parents to develop a plan of action once they start talking. We could be old and gray before they decide anything."

"So let's go out and do something|something other than sword practice," Selene sat up, getting excited by her idea. "We could visit the arcade at the mall, or check out how the team is doing without us. We could even go to the dance like we were planning before this all started."

"Now wait just one minute Selene|and you are Selene now, not Jack. Do you want people to see you like you are now?"

"What's wrong with what I look like?" Selene stood and posed seductively. "I think I look pretty darned good. Besides, who's going to recognize us? We'll just be two people in the crowd."

"Right," Rhea laughed. Standing, she gently took Selene by the hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom. "I've gotta get you to a mirror."

~~~ oOo ~~~

"This is crazy, this is crazy, this is..."

"Oh shut up already, Rhea. It’s panic like that|panic unbecoming an ex-first string quarterback, I might add|that's the reason why I'm driving, even if it is your car."

"But the football game? No one will know us and they’ll try to..."

"Exactly, Rhea. No one will recognize you. That's why we agreed that we would call you Nancy, although I still think Hattie would have been easier for you to remember|who would have known you had a thing for Nancy Drew? So what's the problem?"

"What's the problem? Darn it, Selene, we are headin’ towards a high school football game. Teenaged boys; hormone factories, and they'll be even more difficult to deal with once they get their adrenalin flowin’ from the game. You must remember what that's like, Jack," she intentionally used his birth name, "you used to be one."

"So? I'm not looking for sex, Nancy," Selene used the nom de plume Rhea had selected for effect, "just a good time. Teenage girls have been dealing with teenage boys for ages. How many girls did you rape after each game you played?"

"None, but..."

"But what? We're going to watch our team play. If you still feel uncomfortable, we can leave right after the game ends. Nobody's going to hit on you. Besides, if someone did, you could kill them at least seventeen different ways|but please don’t. I would suggest just using some of the same techniques your girlfriend Connie has been using to keep you both virgins. It would be hard to explain away the blood."

"Connie never looked like we do. I mean she was pretty|real pretty|but look at us. I mean, we're out and out gorgeous. Worse than that, look what we're wearin’. We're gonna freeze our behinds off wearing little more than leather bikinis like this."

"No problemo, buddy mine. The bikinis are fine|they're just a Halloween costume like almost everyone else at the game will be wearing. As for being cold, look on the back seat." With that, Selene pulled into the high school parking lot. "Come on," she called out as she grabbed her old letter jacket, slammed her door and strutted proudly towards the gate.

Rhea sat watching as Selene strode through the gate and disappeared into the crowd. She could hear the cheers from the crowd and shivered, now that the car heater was off. With a deep sigh, she reached back and grabbed her letter jacket. Throwing it over her shoulders and holding it closed in front of herself, Rhea slowly left the car and trudged towards the gate|and who knew what else.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Akcuanrut was bored. He had quickly realized that he did not have enough knowledge of this world to be of any help, especially as the direction of the discussions were leaning towards how to cope until the changes could be reversed rather than how to get Akcuanrut back to his world. With the TSP device gone, it had not taken long to come to the conclusion that he would have to arrange for his own return. The others did not even notice when he excused himself and left the garage.

Wandering through the kitchen was fun for a while, the gas stove was amazing and he played with it for several minutes before moving on to the refrigerator. He played with the refrigerator door, watching the light go on and off, then with the in-the-door ice maker until there was a small pile of cubes and crushed ice on the floor. The sink was most fascinating of all to Akcuanrut, with its hot and cold water and the drain to take it all away.

He was tempted to use a bit of his magical reserve to determine how they worked, but grudgingly decided against it. He did not have enough magic to return as it was and this world did not have much to spare. Instead, he decided to see if he could find and gather what he would need. Not one to delay once he had finally made a decision, Akcuanrut stalked out to the garage. The door was still open to air it out after one of the centaurs had relived himself or herself. The debate still raged and no one even noticed as he grabbed the blanket off the grill and stalked purposefully off into the dusk.

~~~ oOo ~~~

No-Nac was hungry again|and weak. He had no idea where he was, but assumed it was some hell the Dark Gods had sent him to for failing to protect the Heart of Virtue. It took so long to surround and absorb his food in this place were magic was so scant. He had to find a wizard, or at least a powerful source of magic, if he was ever to escape this prison. It was faint, but he could sense a wizard nearby. Food was closer|and he was so hungry...so hungry.

~~~ oOo ~~~

The crowd roared. It was first and ten on the thirty-yard line and the Orbs had the ball. Selene was yelling and cheering them on with the rest, but Rhea was a bit more critical as he analyzed his replacement’s moves. Phil Whiteside was doing remarkably well as a second string quarterback coming out from behind Rhea’s shadow, but he seemed to be afraid to go with a pass play.

“Selene. Selene!” Rhea shouted and tugged at her leathers to get the cheering girl’s attention as Selene had discarded her jacket within moments of finding a seat. “We’ve gotta get Phil to pass the ball. No one’s coverin’ any of the receivers. They’re wide open and he’s almost outta time.”

“What?” Selene shouted over the crowd. “I can’t hear you.”

“I said, he needs to pass the ball. He’s only called one pass play the entire game and if he doesn’t start soon, he’ll be massacred. We don’t have enough ground plays to keep their defense off guard,”

“So tell him.”

“No way. I’m stayin’ low key. Besides, the way I look, why would he believe I have the slightest idea how to play a man’s game like football?”

“So you’d let our team and our school down?”

“No. That’s why I told you. You don’t seem to mind paradin’ around for everyone to see. You go tell him.”

“No. It’s your suggestion. You go,” Selene smiled archly.

“I can’t. I just can’t.” Rhea was near tears in her frustration. “Come on. It’s your team too.”

“Well, all right. You’re right there. I don’t want them to lose either.” Selene hesitated for a moment, as if in thought, and then gave a big grin. “But you’re going to owe me|big time. Right, ‘Nancy’?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll owe you. I’ll owe you. Anythin’. Now get down there and convince him to do a pass play. It’s already second down.”

Smiling back at Rhea, Selene gave a flip of her hair and flounced off to the bench where the coach was giving the team a last minute pep talk. Smiling, she wondered if it was the usual one involving calling the players ladies and threatening to enroll them in the cheerleading squad if they didn’t win.

The time out was ending as Selene made it to the bench and called Tim aside. The whistle blew and they were still talking. Rhea couldn’t tell what Selene said, but Phil shook his head and started to head back out onto the field. Selene stopped him and pointed in Rhea’s direction just as the coach got to them and started yelling. Suddenly the coach was on the ground holding his arm and Phil’s eyes were bugging out. Ignoring the quarterback’s shocked expression; Selene said something again and pointed towards Rhea again.

Before she had finished her instructions to Phil, a whistle blew and everyone groaned as the refs moved the ball back ten yards for delay of game. Rhea fought the urge to scream in frustration. Phil shook his head and jogged out onto the field, but kept sneaking glances back at Selene, who was helping the coach slowly to his feet.

The huddle broke and both teams lined up with the Orbs needing twenty-seven yards with just seventeen seconds to the end of the game. A running play would use up most, if not all, of the clock and the Orbs would end up losing nineteen to fourteen.

Phil knew that the barbarian babe was right, but he was worried. He hadn’t connected on a single pass in the last practice and the one pass he had thrown this game had resulted in an interception and the touchdown that currently put the Wolverines in the lead.

The coach had called for a lateral to Tim Walsh the halfback, and when the ball was hiked Phil quickly tossed the ball, only to see Tim buried in red Wolverine uniforms after gaining only two yards.

Now the pressure was really on. Another quick huddle, then the ball snapped for the last down of the game|and he dropped it. Cursing, he lunged for the bouncing ball, scooped it up and began running towards the bleachers only to see a wall of red charging towards him. Doubling back, a silver Orbs uniform streaked past him and a Wolverine went down. Three more were still closing on him.

Desperate, seeing Tim Walsh standing alone in the end zone, hands in the air waving frantically, he chucked the ball in a wobbly arc just as a wall of red crashed down on him.

When Phil awoke, he found himself lying on a cot at the sidelines with Selene, the coach, and the team’s trainer staring down at him. In the background he could hear cheering, but couldn’t tell which team the cheers were for.

“Uh,” he lifted his head, or rather tried to, until everything started spinning. Setting it gently back on the pillow and holding it he mumbled, “Who won?”

“We did, Phil,” the coach beamed down at him. “Tim caught your pass in the end zone. No one was even near enough to touch him.” The others nodded, also smiling.

Cautiously, Phil turned to Selene. “And it’s a date?”

Selene smiled and nodded. Then the cot lifted and they followed him out to the ambulance.

~~~ oOo ~~~

The crowd of food had drawn No-Nac like a magnet and he huddled beneath a wood and metal structure trying to decide which morsel to consume first when he recognized a magic source with the taste of his original world. How could that be, he wondered and stretched an eye up on a pseudopod. Wiggling between the wooden slats he saw one of the barbarian women and quickly withdrew. If one was there the other was probably nearby. He worriedly searched for another magical signature, fearful that the other one could be sneaking up on him.

With a sign of relief, No-Nac finally located the other one near the open field that people had been running about on. Hunger was now secondary to survival in No-Nac’s mind and he slunk off looking for easier prey.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Nine:

Good Times at Orbit High

Gather my children and you shall hear,

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.

| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Looking like a demented child’s image of a half-pint werewolf, No-Nac trotted down the wide paths of his personal hell. The creatures here were different than the humans he was used to seeing, or even the Dark Gods and their minions. In fact they were even different from each other, with few looking even vaguely similar. As dusk approached, even more creatures could be seen, each more fearsome and demonic than the next.

Hunger was again No-Nac’s primary concern, but the battle with Ackuanrut, D’lon-ra and their minions had taken so much out of him. He was, even now, still smaller than a bunny rat cub and no match for these hell creatures. This was especially true as they all seemed to be traveling in groups|another sign of the fearsome nature of this place when even the demons needed to travel in packs.

There were smaller creatures about, but No-Nac needed mass and he needed it fast if he was going to be able to survive here. Additionally, if he absorbed some of the intelligence and knowledge of these demons he might learn how to survive in this world.

Hugging the sides of the castles where there was more shrubbery to hid him, No-Nac searched for his next meal. It was just past dusk when he finally found a target, a small orange furred demon about his size. Absorbing it would almost double his mass and the next creature he ate could be large enough to bring him back to his original size at last.

It ambled down the street, apparently unaware of NoÄNac’s presence, stopping to receive tribute at castle after castle. Each stop brought it closer to No-Nac and he licked his chops and salivated in anticipation. A half dozen castles away, three castles away, two castles away.

No-Nac adjusted his crouch infinitesimally in order to be better able to lunge out from behind his shrub, grab the small creature and carry it back to his hiding place to be absorbed at his leisure. That’s when the benighted fur ball glanced at something on its wrist and trotted off to the corner instead of down the path to No-Nac’s waiting pseudoclaws.

With a cry of anguish he considered charging out into the open to grab the creature. That was, until he recognized the white haired man the boy had approached, Ackuanrut.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“You did WHAT?!” The volume of Rhea’s voice was sufficient to rattle the car windows.

“Well, you said you’d do anything to make sure our team won.

“But...but...but....” Rhea was in shock at what Selene had done to her. Finally, she took a ragged gulp of air and screeched, “But a date? You know how I feel about bein’ seen in this body. I’ll be a laughingstock. You’ll be a laughingstock. We’ll never...”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ve been through this so many times I can’t count. You made a promise, and I expect you to keep it. If you make me, I’ll tell everyone you broke your word.”

“So, no one knows who I am. We’ll get the Jekyll formula on Monday and I’ll be me again instead of|this,” she gestured to her body’s new curves.

“But I’ll know. I’ll know you wouldn’t keep your promise.”

“So?”

“So, I’ll tell everyone.”

“And get yourself locked up in the nearest funny farm?”

“And provide proof.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’ve already appealed to your sense of adventure, to see what it’s like on a date from the girl’s point of view|but you must have lost that back on that other world. I’ve appealed to your sense of honor, hoping you would keep your word once you made the promise|but you’re telling me you have no problems reneging on your word. I’ve pleaded with you, as my best friend, to come and back me up|but our friendship doesn’t seem to mean much right now, despite all those years I went along with all those hare-brained invention schemes of yours|at great personal risk I might remind you. Remember, I’ll be there too and while I really do want to do this, I really don’t want to do it alone|so sure, sure I’d tell everyone and sure I’d provide proof.” Selene folded her arms and glared back at Rhea.

Incongruously, Rhea’s first reaction was amazement that Selene had actually managed to present that soliloquy in one breath, especially since this was, by far, the most she’d said since the transformation. Unfortunately, the meaning of Selene’s words then sunk in and Rhea uncomfortably realized that Selene was right. She had promised, albeit foolishly and without a full understanding of the implications of her promise. Even worse, Rhea realized that her best friend had every reason to expect Rhea to join her. They had been friends all their lives and Selene had always been there for Rhea. Despite her angry words, Rhea still doubted that Selene would actually follow through on her threat to tell the world about the Jekyll formula. She was living proof of the pandemonium it could cause, a teenage boy who was genetically a female barbarian princess with near superhuman strength and warfare skills. However, it did make Rhea realize that Selene really did want to do this dating thing and that regardless of Rhea’s opinion on the matter, Rhea owed her.

Slowly, Rhea deflated back into the car seat, tears streaming down her eyes. “Okay. I’ll go,” she whispered.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Akcuanrut was amazed. The castles were so plentiful; there was no place for the serfs to till the soil. The roads were made of some hard substance and they used lights without flame.

The people seemed familiar, although most were smaller than the people of his land. At least they had arms and legs with few exceptions. Also, eyes and ears were the norm. Clothing was another thing though. The colors, the designs; it was like a rainbow of different outfits, again with few duplications.

Akcuanrut had followed the other beings of the area, walking along the white strip beside the road until he reached a corner. He was standing there trying to decide which way to go when he felt a gentle tugging at his robe.

Looking down, he saw one of the small creatures looking up at him. The creature was wearing a white robe similar to his, but had furry hands and a short, squat, furry head with big, pointed ears and a furrowed brow. The color of its fur was a bright orange with faint traces of gray white, as if it were quite old. The overall impression was of an aged, but extremely knowledgeable creature.

“’Cuse me Mister,” the little creature said, it’s voice childlike, but with a strange hollow echo. “Would you help me cross the street?”

“What wish you, strange being?”

“I wanna cross the street,” it pointed to the black surface that the “cars” preferred. “I can do it myself, but Mommy said I hadda get help.”

“Certainly, small being,” Akcuanrut responded with more assurance than he felt. “Go which way do you wish?”

“That way,” it pointed. “I’m goin’ home now.” It sounded so happy to be going home, Akcuanrut felt a momentary twinge of jealousy, wishing that he too could return home.

The small being took his hand and tugged him towards the street. Akcuanrut followed, a bit uncertain of what to do about the “cars,” but there was nothing to worry about. They stayed between some white lines painted on the “street” and the only “car” that approached, slowed and stopped as it came near them.

“Thanks, Mister,” the small being spoke again as they stepped onto the curb again. “I’m Yoda. Who are you?”

“Akcuanrut am I, Dean of the College of Wizards and Advisor to King Elvi of Myriad.”

“Oh wow. That sounds cool, but I don’t know him. What movie is he from?”

“Movie? Like on the TV?” Akcuanrut had learned a bit from listening to the twins. “None. From another dimension am I.”

“Oh.” Yoda sounded disappointed and didn’t speak for a while, just holding Akcuanrut’s hand and walking along.

They crossed two more streets like that before coming to one that was much larger. Akcuanrut confidently stepped out onto the blacktop despite the many cars rushing by when Yoda tugged his arm.

“The light. It’s gotta turn green.”

“Huh?” Akcuanrut searched about looking for something that would turn green before he realized Yoda was pointing at a box hanging above the middle of the street with three globes. Facing them only the red one was lit, but there were two others of indeterminate color and on the side facing the moving cars the bottom light was lit, and it was green.

“But green it is,” Akcuanrut pointed.

“That’s for the cars. The red one is for us,’ the small being stood patiently.

As Akcuanrut watched, the green light facing the cars went out and the light above, a yellow one, went on. Akcuanrut watched in amazement as the cars began to slow and stop. Moments later, the yellow light had gone off and a red light went on. At the same time, the red light facing them went off and the green light below it went on. Akcuanrut stood, fascinated by the changes and trying to figure out what had happened to stop the cars when he realized that Yoda was tugging at his sleeve again.

“Let’s go before it changes again.” With that the small furry creature led Ackuanrut across the street while the cars waited patiently for them to complete their crossing.

Four castles down from the light Yoda suddenly let go of Ackuanrut’s hand and bolted towards the front portico. At the castle entrance, Yoda turned and waved, “Bye Ack...bye Acky.” Then he was gone.

Ackuanrut stood wondering what to do next. Doing a search for magic sources, he found one|and it was close, very close. Smiling at his good luck, the wizard headed down the white way toward the building with the large steeple on top.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“So we’re settled?” The others nodded and Herbert Lanyon smiled prettily. “Then to summarize, George will prepare a power of attorney for Herbert or I to sign, have it notarized at his office and then go to the bank for the backup copy of the formula. That will be much easier than having either of us go. Akcuanrut is worried that he may have great difficulty being able to find sufficient magical energies on this world to return the Heart of Virtue to his world so, as a matter of courtesy, Emily and I have agreed not to use even that small amount needed to appear human. With the formula, we can return to our original shapes and then I can get to work on the TSP device so Ackuanrut can get home|even if he can’t find enough magic to do it on his own.”

“Come to think of it,” George asked, “where is Ack...what did you say his name was? I’d like to talk to him about wherever he came from.”

“I think I saw him heading towards the kitchen an hour or so ago,” Emily answered. “Rather than have one of us wreck the new tile floor with our hooves, would you please ask him to come out here George?” With a nod, George sauntered off.

“I have a more basic question, dearest,” Lucille spoke up. “What is the TSP thingee you’ve been talking about?”

“You weren’t listening, were you, Lucille?” Herbert was a bit hurt that her wife’s best friend had not paid better attention to her narrative, although as she thought about it, she realized she should have been used to it by now. With a tired shake of her head, she explained again.

“The TSP ‘thingee’ is a Trans-Spacial Portal. To use layman’s terms it was supposed to be like the transporters in StarTrek, a way to move objects from one place to another by dismantling their individual atoms and then recreating them in another...”

“Dear?”

“Yes, Emily?” Herbert turned towards her wife. “I was just trying to explain the TSP to Lucille.”

“And I’m listening quite intently Herb|I mean Emily.”

“No you’re not, Lucille,” Emily laughed. “I’ve known you much too long for you to fool me. I can see that slightly glazed look and you’re playing with that one curl of your hair again. What were you really doing, planning tomorrow’s wardrobe?”

“No!” Lucille was indignant, “of course not. I was...I was...” and then she started laughing. “My Gawd. It really is you in that body, isn’t it, Emily. I didn’t really believe it until just now.”

“I apologize, Herbert,” she turned to the female centaur. “Emily is correct. I really was not paying full attention to your explanation, but the transporter explanation was sufficient for my needs.”

Turning back to the male centaur, she good-naturedly slapped his arm. “But you, Emily. How could you give away our feminine secrets like that?”

Emily gave a deep gravelly chuckle. “Have you noticed that I seem to have a rather unique perspective on that at the moment, Lucille?”

“I can’t find him?” George came barreling back into the garage.

“What’s that, George?”

“I can’t find Ackuanrut.”

“Did you check upstairs?”

“I checked every room, including the bathrooms and the closets. I also checked the basement and I even checked the backyard. I’m afraid he’s gone.”

“Oh my,” Emily gasped, holding his hands to his mouth. “He’s not familiar with this world. I hope he’ll be all right.”

“We’d better find him. Emily and I will check the neighborhood on foot. George, you and Lucille take your car. Everyone take their cell phones and call if you spot him.”

“Right. Come on, Lucille. You drive while I check to see if he’s been picked up by the police.”

“What about the girls?” Emily asked. “What about Rhea and Selene|I mean Hastie and Jack?”

“I’ll call them right after checking with the police,” George called back from the car as it pulled out of the driveway.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Tim and Phil will meet us at the entrance to the school in a few minutes. Are you ready, ‘Nancy’?”

“Well, let’s see, Selene. Are my pants clean? Oh, sorry. I’m not wearin’ any damned pants. Is my skirt too long? Humm. No skirt either. Well, is my leather bikini coverin’ everything it needs to cover? Just barely. No prob, Selene. Ready as can be.”

“Lighten up, ‘Nancy’,” Selene laughed. “We’re here for the Halloween dance. Let’s have fun and win the award for best costume like we’ve been planning all week.”

“Uhhummm.”

“Yes, ‘Nancy’?”

“Wouldn’t it help to have a damned costume in the first place? We look like refugees from an X-rated movie. There’s no way they’re gonna let us into the dance dressed like this. I wouldn’t be surprised if they call the cops and have us arrested for tryin’ to corrupt the morals of minors.”

“Oh come on. You know, deep down, you’re dying to go to this dance. Like I said, calm down. The guys will be here any minute.”

The cell phone in the leather shoulder pack Selene carried started chiming.

“Saved by the bell,” Rhea cheered before smiling beatifically upward and clasping his hands together in prayer. “Thank you, lord. Thank you.”

“Relax, Saint Joan. It’s probably a wrong number,” but Selene took the sack off her shoulder and rummaged through it for the cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi, Dad. What’s up?”

“He is?” Selene asked worriedly.

“You did?”

“We’ve got Rhea’s car and we’ll start looking for him immediately.” Selene silently replaced the phone in the pack and shouldered it before turning back to Rhea.

“Are you enjoying keepin’ me in suspense? Give already,” Rhea demanded.

“It’s Ackuanrut.”

“Yeah?” Rhea gestured for Selene to elaborate.

“He’s missing.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

The rubbish-filled alley was deserted except for the two teens cursing as they attacked a metal door with a crowbar. No-Nac stood at the alley’s entrance and checked for other ways out, but there were none. If he could get to at least one of them before they broke through that door, he could be near full mass; two and he’d be complete again.

It always seemed to take so much longer to absorb the minds of his victims and the voices of the incompletely absorbed warred in No-Nac’s head. He had never tried to absorb this many diverse creatures in such as short time. The mind most harmonious to his current need won and he assumed the shape of Vfrgoysl.

“Hey, Blackie.”

“Shut up an’ push, dumbass.”

“Blackie,” the voice was more urgent.

“What the hell’s the matter with you, Ralph?”

“I heard something.”

“It’s probably just your mother with a John.”

“Screw you, Blackie. I told you never to talk about my mother that way. Anyway, I heard something. Really I did.”

“Aw right. Let’s check it out. Whaddja hear?” The door was forgotten as they stared at each other.

“Idonknow. Like a|something strange. From back by da street,” Ralph pointed.

“So, like I said. Check it out.”

“I ain’t gonna check nothin’ out. You check it out.”

“Oh shit,” Blackie spat. “You are one freaking chicken. Ya know dat, don’t ya? Come on.” With that Blackie grabbed Ralph’s jacket collar and dragged him along towards the alley entrance. They got four steps before Ralph screamed and pulled away.

Looking up, Blackie screamed too.

The three foot tall cockroach chittered happily from the side wall of the building to their left, about six feet over their heads and lunged.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Hey! Where are you ladies going? I thought we had a date.”

The shout was from Phil Whiteside, dressed as a Scottish highlander, who had just finished parking his car. Tim Walsh exited the passenger side door a moment later, smoothing out his colonial gentleman’s outfit.

Selene and Rhea stopped trotting through the school parking lot towards their car to wait for the two football players to catch up to them.

“We do|I mean we did,” Selene stumbled over her reply.

“Well, unless I’m mistaken, the dance is the other way.” Tim pointed back at the school and smiled disarmingly. “And why did ‘we do’ change to ‘we did’?”

“Yeah! We had a date,” Phil chimed in. “Just like a girl to back out at the last moment.”

“We’re sorry, but we’ve got an emergency. Ack…” Rhea covertly elbowed Selene in the ribs. “Ah...a friend of ours is missing and we’ve got to help find him.” Rhea added her agreement, looking more disappointed than she felt.

“Tim?” he turned to Phil Whiteside questioningly.

“I’m in, Phil. No way I’m missing out on a date with a great looking chick just because of some female emergency,” was the immediate response and Phil cringed.

“Do you know what they’re talking about, Rhea...I mean Nancy?”

“Not a clue, Selene.”

Selene turned back to the two boys. “What are you guys talking about?”

“You’re our dates. We don’t care whether it’s at the dance or somewhere else, but we aren’t just dropping you because you have a problem.”

“Exactly, babes,” Tim chimed in. “So who do we need to find?”

“Give us a minute, guys.” Rhea pulled Selene a dozen or so feet away the boys and whispered. “We’ve got a problem here. How do we tell them we’re searching for a white-haired wizard from another dimension?”

“We don’t.”

“So you’ll politely tell them ‘thanks but no thanks’?” Rhea looked relieved.

“Nope. I’ll tell them he’s an eccentric and slightly slow uncle who doesn’t know the area and could get into trouble if we don’t find him.”

“Oh, shit. And I suppose you want to split up too so we can cover more area?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Selene responded cattily, “but it’s an excellent idea. Do you want Tim or Phil?”

Without waiting for a response from the sputtering girl, Selene strode purposefully back to the guys as Rhea muttered about her enjoying this too much.

“’Girl talk’ over?” Tim’s wink, designed to show that this was meant to be humorous, turned into an “oof” and he found himself on the ground looking up at an angry Selene.

“That was just to save time and make sure you believe the message. Don’t even think of trying any macho bull. Now, if you’re still interested in helping, we’d appreciate the help.” Selene waited for the hesitant responses.

“Great. I’ll go with you, Phil. You can drive. Nancy will go with Tim|who’s going to be a perfect gentleman,” she glared briefly at Tim, who was still getting back up and brushing himself off. “We’ll tell you what’s happening on the way.”

On the way to the cars Phil smugly poked Tim in the ribs and stage whispered just loud enough that the two girls heard too, “I told you that macho bull wouldn’t work with these girls.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

Finally feeling sated from his double meal, No-Nac moved on to his second objective, to find sufficient magic to help him overcome that benighted Ackuanrut and regain the Heart of Virtue. The magic nearby was strong|he could feel it, the strongest he’d felt since being dumped in this hell hole planet|and close, very close. Assuming the shape of one of the creatures that had caught his interest and been caught by his appetite|a human with stooped shoulders, wavy black hair, bushy eyebrows, receding forehead, pointed nose and protruding chin that kept saying “I am not a crook”| he hurried towards his goal.

Rounding the corner he could see it, a huge building, bigger than any of the castles about it. This one even looked a bit like a castle, made of stone, with a tower, crenels and clerestory windows. Power rolled out from it in waves, crashing against No-Nac and making him feel giddy. This was enough power to defeat Ackuanrut and still have enough left over to return home without the aid of the Dark Gods.

Still No-Nac held back. Something was wrong. It was too easy. With the patience of a skilled predator, he examined the situation, patiently waiting to discover where the trap was; the trap that had to be there.

That was it! The creatures of this world walked past it, but did not enter. He would have to wait until someone dared enter so he could learn from them how to survive the ordeal. Modifying his shape to that of a bench beside the white path, No-Nac prepared to wait patiently for what he needed|and maybe snag another snack or two as he did.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Ten:

A-Gley Again

A serious house on serious earth it is,

In whose blent air all our compulsions meet,

Are recognized, and robed as destinies.

| Philip Larkin

“Nice costume, lady.”

The shout came from a passing car and this time, Herbert simply ignored it as she and her wife Emily trotted up one block and down and other searching for the missing wizard. She had been routinely ignoring the date requests, but for the previous baker’s dozen of critiques of her costume, her breasts, and her face, she had been vacillating. Initially, she had responded with “Thank you,” but the most insistent suitors had been the ones she had been polite to initially.

Then, she had tried to brush them off with an immediate “Don’t bother. I’m not interested.” Unfortunately, there seemed to be some folks who took her attempts to brush them off as a personal challenge, showing remarkable persistence until finally convinced she meant it.

Next, she’d tried getting ugly and rude. This helped a bit as most potential suitors backed off, but not without at least a couple of snarled insults, which were doing little to salve her fraying temper.

On several occasions, Emily tried to offer suggestions, but Herbert would listen intently as usual, then insist that there was little he expected from this world, but that politeness was one of them. Once, Emily even found it necessary to step between his husband and the rudest and most persistent suitor. In the end they just cantered away and left the angry young man cursing from the stoop of his brownstone while his friends ribbed him unmercifully for his lack of prowess with the opposite sex.

“I’m getting a bit tired, dear. Let’s find a quiet place to rest.”

“Good idea Emily. This pavement is killing my hooves,” Dr. Lanyon sighed as they slowed to a walk and stopped on the grass in a park across from a church.

“Ah, much better,” Emily rumbled contentedly. “Cool, soft, comfortable grass. Almost makes you want to nibble a bit and see what it tastes like.”

“Emily! You’re not going feral on me, are you?”

“Of course not, dear.” He bent at the waist to pluck a long flat blade with his fingers and hold it up to the glow of the streetlight. “But it does look so green, so moist, so...”

“Emily!” Herbert was shocked.

“Oh relax, Herbert, I’m joking.”

With that, Emily placed the flat of the blade between his thumbs, pushed his thumbs against his lips and played “Yankee Doodle” on his homegrown kazoo. Herbert shook her head, sighed and pulled out her cell phone to check on how the others were doing.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“So, Nancy, tell me about this uncle of yours.” Tim was trying to be a gentleman and make small talk.

“Not much to tell,” Rhea squirmed uncomfortably, unsure what she could safely say. “He’s got flowing white hair, a white beard and he’s only been with us for a day.”

“So? What is he, some kind a foreigner or something?”

“You could say that.”

Tim’s arm had moved onto the car’s bench seat behind Rhea, not touching her, but getting closer. Ignoring the arm, Rhea touched Tim gently on the thigh, letting her hand linger there for a moment, like his girlfriend Connie would do to him.

“Turn here and we can check out Broadhurst|and use two hands on the wheel so you don’t kill us both.” Rhea smiled to herself as the encroaching hand disappeared. She was getting better at this “girl thing.” Connie, had been a better teacher than she had thought.

“Yes ma’am,” Tim laughed and made the turn. After the turn, his arm returned to the back of the bench seat and Rhea sighed to herself ruefully, recognizing that she would have done the same thing with Connie.

“So, tell me about yourself. You obviously know the town. Why haven’t I seen a beautiful, babe, I mean girl, like you in our school before?”

“I’ve been around,” Rhea didn’t want to tell him that until a couple of days ago Tim had been catching footballs thrown by her. “It’s probably just the costume that caught your eye. Let’s loop up to Hechlinger next.”

“Whoa up there, girl! You don’t really expect me to believe that I would have missed a beautiful babe like you at our school, do you?”

“Well,” Rhea frantically searched for a prevarication that would allow her to answer without actually lying. For some reason, despite her insistence to Selene that she wanted nothing to do with boys or dating, she felt it important to be truthful to Tim. Deciding, not too confidently, that it was just his normal desire to be honest, Rhea continued.

“I’ve been at Orbit High for the last four years. I guess you could say I had a growth spurt recently.”

“That’s one ‘humongous’ growth spurt, Nancy,” he took his eyes off the road yet again to ogle her breasts appreciatively. “I can tell you from first-hand experience that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m a twin, remember?” That should be safer, get him talking about Selene instead of me, Rhea thought.

“True. But you’ve got blonde hair and Selene is a redhead.”

“So the only reason you want to be with me is my hair color? Or is it because I’m a twin, or because I have an uncle|with white hair?” Rhea wasn’t sure, but for some reason, it annoyed her that his reason for liking her was as inconsequential as her hair color.

“What can I say? I’m a blonde man, and yours is my favorite shade of blonde.”

“I sure hope you’ve got a better reason than that for liking me, mister,” Rhea growled as her left hand moved to the dagger in her waist belt and began slowly sliding it in and out of the hilt.

“No, babe. Stop being such a feminist. It’s you. I think you’re beautiful. I want to know everything I can about you. I want to hold you....”

The dagger against his Adam’s Apple felt sharper than Tim cared to admit as he slowly moved the hand that he had been edging around Rhea back onto the steering wheel.

“I suggest that you slowly pull to the side of the road and park,” Rhea growled through gritted teeth. The dagger remained at Tim’s neck as he complied.

“Now, I’ve known you for almost four years and I’ve always thought you were a bit slow, but trainable, so I’m going to give you one last chance. You will do all of the following to the letter, or you will step out of the car and this ‘date’ is over.

“First, you will speak to me, my face rather than my chest. She waited for his almost imperceptible nod. As a reward she moved the dagger a fraction of an inch away from his throat.

“Second, you will not even think of making another pass.”

Another nod.

“Third, you will not call me ‘babe’ or any other name but Rhea.”

Rhea wondered why Tim’s eyes grew wide, but he nodded yet again and so Rhea shrugged and continued.

“Fourth, and finally, you will act as if I’m a friend rather than as if I was some broad to be bedded. Is that clear?”

Tim remained unmoving, staring straight ahead, but said nothing.

“I said, ‘Is that clear?’”

Slowly, very slowly, Tim lifted his left hand off the steering wheel and pointed to the knife near his throat. “Oh.” The knife was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“Yes, Rhea.”

“Wha?...Why did you call me Rhea?”

“Th...that’s what you asked me to call you.”

“Oh shit.” Rhea dropped her head to her hands and began to cry. Afraid to touch her, Tim squirmed uncomfortably as he waited for her to take the handkerchief he offered.

~~~ oOo ~~~

In the other car, Phil and Selene had a much friendlier, but equally bizarre, conversation. “So you’re trying to tell me that you’re Jack Utterson? That you played football on the same team as me for the last four years, as center to Rhea Lanyon’s quarterback, who is apparently now your blonde twin? That your parents are now centaurs and the guy we’re looking for is really a wizard from another dimension?” Skepticism dripped from Phil’s voice.

“Right,” the red-headed barbarian woman responded as she turned towards her passenger.

“Why don’t you let me out here, please?” Phil shook his head in disbelief. “I think I’ll walk home.”

“If that’s what you really want.”

Selene pulled the car to the side of the street and turned off the engine. No words were spoken, but sad eyes bore deeper and deeper into Phil’s soul. He stared defensively at the floor mat, but refusing to look back into her eyes did nothing to relieve the growing tension.

“Damn it, Selene, how the hell do you expect me to believe that line of bull?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you tell me that obviously ridiculous tale?”

“First, because it’s true. Second, because you asked.”

Phil gaped, open mouthed, at the beautiful redheaded woman sitting beside him, unsure what to do. True, there was something about her, an air of familiarity that made him feel like he’d known her for years. Then there was that tone of absolute certainty in her voice, not like other people he’d met who seemed to try too hard when they were lying. Besides, she was the foxiest chick he’d ever met, and if she was mad, it was a beautiful madness. Taking his hand off the car door, Phil turned and forced himself to look into her eyes, stopping briefly to examine her glorious breasts on the way up.

“Explain please. How can an obviously impossible tale be true?”

“I should make you use Aristotlian logic, like Mr. Brekinridge did in tenth grade math.” She smiled as his brow furrowed, no doubt trying to guess how she could possibly had known about that, especially since he had been the butt of Brekinridge’s “guidance” enough times to have reconsidered his plans for a technical career until Jack had convinced him to go with his dreams by helping him through the final exam with a grade in the low nineties. “But I won’t. The answer is obvious. I’m telling the truth, regardless of how bizarre it sounds.”

“But....”

“Stop talking,” Selene gently touched her finger to his lips. “I only told you because you asked. I don’t care if you believe me or not. In fact, it might be easier if you didn’t.” Selene stopped and thought for a moment. Her eyes gazed unseeing into the distance and her words seem disconnected, as if she were quietly debating with herself rather than answering Phil.

“No, that’s not true. I hadn’t realized it until just now, but I guess I wanted to be honest on the off chance that there could be something more than just raw sex between us. I was looking for a|a relationship,” she stumbled over the words. A moment later she shook herself and turned back to Phil.

“Wow. That was strange. I was planning a family there for a moment.” She smiled as Phil squirmed at her words. “Relax bud. Self-examination can be fascinating, but not necessarily the whole story. While those thoughts were there in the back of my mind, I guarantee you that they’re well in the background. I am much more interested in finding Akcuanrut followed by some joint, mutually consenting, sexual experimentation sans commitments. So how about a quick kiss and we get on with our search?”

The kiss took much longer than either of them expected.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“George?”

“Yes dear?” he interrupted his driving and scanning for the old wizard long enough to glance over at his wife. She was chewing absently on a fingernail and George silently groaned to himself. It was time for another “deep discussion.”

“Do you really believe the story Emily and Herbert just told us?”

“Yes, dear.”

“You don’t think it’s another of their elaborate Halloween pranks? Remember last year when they built a UFO in the backyard?”

“I remember.” He turned down Oxford Drive and slowed so they could examine a crowd gathered around “Werther’s Olde Fashioned Soda Shoppe.”

“Why don’t you think it’s a joke, George?”

“Mostly an analysis of the musculature of their hind legs, Lucille.”

“Now George,” Lucille wagged a finger at him, “don’t you go giving me some boring scientific explanation.”

“Of course not, dear. What I saw were a real horse’s hind quarter. Too thin at the hoof for a human leg to fit and each joint moved independently. Also, you could see the ripple of muscles on their backs. Then, there was the way each had information that only the other should have had....”

“Enough, dear. I get the idea. So are we really going to help them go back to that other dimension?”

“I’m afraid we don’t really have any choice. I don’t think our world is ready for a pair of living, breathing, talking centaurs. Worse, there’s the magic,” George scowled for a moment as they drove past a couple of teenage trick-or-treaters throwing toilet paper over a tree on someone’s front lawn.

“What do you mean? The magic is in that other dimension, assuming it exists. How can that affect us, George?”

“It’s like Pandora’s box, my dear. Once people on this world know it’s there, they won’t forget. It will niggle at them until they find out how to use it here. Look at Nobel and nitroglycerine. He was so appalled by what he’d invented, he tried to take back the knowledge. After realizing he couldn’t uninvent it, he created a trust to honor those who worked towards peace and creation instead of the war and destruction created by his invention. It was the closest he could come to putting the genie back into the bottle, but as you know from history, his ‘noble’ effort, no pun intended, has done little to prevent wholesale death and destruction.”

“I guess so dear, but when you put it that way, it sounds so hopeless. Isn’t there something we can do?”

“I don’t think so, Lucille. Although I suppose a couple of well placed prayers wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re scaring me, George. Please stop.”

“Yes, dear,” George sighed and changed the subject. “Why don’t you call Herbert and Emily and see how they’re doing?”

~~~ oOo ~~~

“Yeah!” Selene slapped the dashboard in joy. “They found him. They found him.”

“Who? Who found him? Where is he?”

“Rhea’s parents, the centaurs, they found Akcuanrut,” Selene lunged across the seat before Phil could even flinch and gave him a huge hug and kiss. “They were by that old gothic church on Winthrup Avenue, across from the park. He just walked up to them. Would you believe the old coot had gone trick or treating?”

“Great, Selene,” Phil’s enthusiasm was much more reserved than hers as he sat unmoving, waiting for Selene to untangle herself from him. Hopeful that this might mean they could continue their date, but afraid to push the issue as Tim had, Phil asked, “What now?”

“Oh...” Selene realized Phil’s meaning and sobered up. “Oh.” They were silent; each thinking furiously about what should be next. Finally, Selene broke the silence asking coyly, “What would you like to do, Phil?”

“Now you’re going to dump the decision on me?” Phil grumped and was silent again. He had tried to make it sound like he was teasing her, but he wasn’t certain he’d pulled it off.

Selene nodded timidly and held her breath as she waited, hoping he’d give her the answer she wanted. Her hands went behind her back, she crossed her fingers and her lips moved almost imperceptibly as she silently mouthed “Please, please, please, please.”

“How about we finish helping get your ‘uncle’ safe and then finish this date?”

Like a shot, Selene was back on the other side of the car, sitting on his lap, hugging and kissing Phil again. They almost decided that the car seat was the perfect place to finish their date when the cell phone rang again.

“Murfph.” Selene groaned in annoyance, but her face never left his face and her lips never left his lips.

Phil actually pulled away just enough to ask, “Maybe we should answer it?”

Despite his suggestion, Phil sighed in disappointment when Selene slowly slid off his lap. “Drat. I was hoping you’d ignore me.”

“I almost did. Being responsible can be a real pain sometimes,” Selene whined as she answered the phone and listened with growing intensity.

Turning off the cell phone, a somber Selene turned to her date. “I’d better drop you off. Would you like me to leave you at the dance or at home,” she asked wistfully. “Where would you prefer?”

“Wha? What happened to our date this time? A guy could get a complex here.”

“Something’s come up. I need to get to that church as quickly as I can. There’s going to be trouble.”

“So? Why do you keep thinking I’m only here to get into your pants? I’m going with you.”

“Are you sure, Phil? You don’t know what you’re walking into. I’m talking dangerous with a capital ‘D’ and it rhymes with ‘T’ and that spells ‘trouble’.”

“So?”

“Phil. Please think carefully here. We’re up against an enemy here that almost beat us last time and apparently can come back from the dead.”

“More of that magic you were talking about?”

Selene just nodded.

“And you think that’s going to keep me away?”

“Phil. I like you very much. I don’t want to be the cause of your death.”

“I’m here now with a beautiful girl, who’s either crazy as a loon and dangerous to boot, or who may be the first-string quarterback for my football team and a visitor from another world where there’s magic. Either way, I think I’m in love with you and I’m not leaving you if I can help it. You could probably stop me if you tried, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m going.” He crossed his arms and sat staring straight ahead, daring her to kick him out of the car.

~~~ oOo ~~~

No-Nac was getting hungry again. Many people had passed and a few had even sat on nearby benches, but none had approached him. Worse yet, no one had attempted to enter the castle yet. He was considering changing his position to get closer to the hard white path, when a lone adult in a black costume and a small white collar approached.

“I see our neighborhood hooligans have been out rearranging the lawn furniture again,” the man muttered, but with a smile on his face. Reaching No-Nac, he grasped the ersatz bench and began to lift it, completing his turn back to the street before realizing that some sort of soft gooey material had flowed over his hands.

Befuddled, the man watched as whatever it was flowed rapidly up his arms, reaching the elbow before he could react sufficiently to attempt to drop the bench. Unfortunately, by then it was far too late. The ooze continued to flow over him, making its way to his shoulders and the pain began. He managed the beginnings of a loud scream before it was aborted as his mouth was covered.

Standing beside a row of tall hedges in the park across from the church, Herbert glanced up in time to see No-Nac tilt a pair of legs into the air and use gravity to finish his feast. Without taking her eyes off the blob, rapidly reforming into a bench again, she tapped Emily on his rump and pointed. Emily glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the ooze reform into a nondescript park bench.

“Wha?...” Emily’s voice was a low whisper, despite being more than fifty yards away from the creature.

“I guess we know what happened to No-Nac now.” Herbert’s voice too was hushed. “Better tell the others.”

Emily nodded without taking his eyes off the bench and Herbert reached into her purse for the cell phone as they quickly cantered to a more protected location from which to observe the creature.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“So what’s the story?” Selene asked as she dropped to the grass next to the others. She and Phil were the last to arrive. As they approached the others, Phil lagged behind. Instead of dropping to the ground beside Selene, or even standing beside her, he slowly spiraled closer and closer to the two centaurs with his eyes bugging out more and more the closer he came. He was just about to reach out a hand and touch Dr. Lanyon’s hind quarter when Selene interrupted him and he jerked his hand back to his side.

“What’s the problem, Phil? Grab a seat,” Selene called over to him. “Where’s Tim?”

“He’s at the dance,” was Rhea’s emotionless response. Selene couldn’t decide whether the response was happy or sad, but was immediately concerned for her new twin sister|especially since the date had been her idea, albeit the only non-violent way she’d thought of at the time to get the coach and players to listen to Rhea’s advice about how to win the game.

“Oh, too bad. Are you all right?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Rhea turned away and flinched when Selene placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

With a whispered, “We need to talk later,” Selene forced herself to smile and return her attention to the rest of the group.

“Phil’s decided to help us,” Selene beamed as she explained to the others why he was here before she could be asked.

“Ouch.” Herbert flicked her tail at the offending spot on her rump and turned to see what had bit her, only to discover that Phil had pinched her.

“Oh my god.” Phil staggered back. Tripping in his hurry, he fell into a nearby hedge and slid down onto his backside still staring at the two centaurs.

“What’s the problem, Phil? I know you’ve seen Rhea’s parents before.”

“They...they’re centaurs,” he pointed.

“Yeah, so? I told you they were, didn’t I?”

“Just a moment, Selene,” Herbert interrupted. “There seems to be a problem here. “You did just pinch me on my rump, didn’t you, young man?”

“Uh, yes ma’am.”

“On my horse’s rump?”

“Yes ma’am.” Phil’s voice still quavered and he made a loud gulping sound as he swallowed hard, but he seemed a bit more certain of himself as he glanced sheepishly at Selene.

“I guess I can rule out crazy for the moment,” he smiled, but then suddenly looked worried again, “unless it’s me in the booby hatch dreaming this whole thing up.”

“Akcuanrut?” Herbert kept his eyes on the young man still sitting on the grass. “Isn’t our magic working? I know we agreed to use it to seem human again and less inconspicuous once you confirmed that there was enough power to do so and still meet your needs.”

A quick gesture and a squint of the left eye and Akcuanrut answered. “Yes. Working it be. The strongest I’ve seen it since we arrived on this world, it be.”

“Then why can he see us as centaurs?” Herbert asked as she folded her arms under her breasts and stared suspiciously at Phil. She took care to move her rump away from him in order to avoid the chance of another pinch.

Another gesture, another squint and Akcuanrut responded again. “Because a first-rate wizard’s apprentice this young man has the makings of.” The others turned in mass to stare at Phil, almost missing Akcuanrut’s next words. “Dreaming you are not, young man. To develop your skills, too bad you’ll never have the opportunity on this world.”

“Folks?” Herbert Lanyon raised her hand. “Maybe we should figure out what we’re going to do about No-Nac?”

“Whatever do you mean, Emily?” Mrs. Utterson asked the female centaur.

“Emily is over there Lucille.” Herbert pointed to the male centaur beside her. “I’m Herbert, remember? And what I mean is, about a hundred yards away, with only this line of shrubs between it and us, we have a known agent of the Dark Gods pretending to be a park bench; a shape changing creature that eats human beings and just ate some clergyman. We tried to kill the blasted thing once and failed. He, or rather it, will not rest until it has recovered the Heart of Virtue and destroyed the people who took it from him|us.”

“An excellent recap, dear,” Emily patted his husband’s rump supportively. “Any ideas?”

The silence was deafening. Finally, Akcuanrut spoke. “His reason for being here, explain I think I can. The power, here it must be. To use it, hope to do, he must.”

“I think we better come up with a plan of action here,” Herbert suggested.

“I don’t think there’s much choice,” George Utterson observed. “That ‘thing,’ cannot be permitted to remain in this world.” He then reiterated his discussions with Lucille regarding the impact of the discovery that there was real magic in the world and concluded with, “...so while no one could put strife, famine, hatred, etc. back into Pandora’s box, we have to at least try.”

The others agreed and Herbert again repeated her recommendation for the development of a plan when Phil interrupted.

“Uh, folks?”

“You have an idea?”

“No, I need to point out a problem.” Phil pointed towards the hedge and everyone turned. No-Nac was changing again. As they watched, the bench morphed into a gelatinous blob. The blob quivered and began to assume a vaguely human form, but with the head of a cockroach. It quivered again, and the insect head disappeared, only to be replaced by the head of D’lon-ra, the Emperor’s Champion who had fought and died in the battle to recover the Heart of Virtue. D’lon-ra’s head was quickly replaced by several others, before the head, and then the entire body settled into the form of the clergyman No-Nac had recently consumed. As the group watched, the minister brushed himself off and walked into church.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Eleven:

Endings and Beginnings

Now this is not the end.

It is not even the beginning of the end.

But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.

| Sir Winston Churchill

While the others were still clearly uncomfortable with the plan the group had quickly cobbled together, Rhea could see that Selene was at peace with herself. Surprising herself, Rhea realized that she was too. It was not that she was looking forward to the upcoming battle; Rhea knew she wasn’t. Nor was it a death wish, either because she was stuck in her current gender or because Tim had dumped her. The rules might be different for males and females, but there were still rules and Rhea knew she was a quick study. Similarly, Tim’s actions were of surprisingly little import, as every glance at her gorgeous, redheaded twin only reinforced her opinion that he was a fool, and she had not made it to starting quarterback by letting other people rattle her. It was...acceptance. Rhea had finally admitted to herself that she was comfortable with who she now was; Rhea Lanyon, best friend to Selene Utterson, child of Herbert and Emily Lanyon, competent and capable young adult. Tearing herself away from her mullings, she quickly grasped the essentials of the plan that was unfolding.

It was a simple plan. Emily, Herbert and Akcuanrut slowly walked through the huge carved oak doors of the main entrance and down the center aisle, but not before everyone else had spread out and surreptitiously positioned themselves by the other entrances. Phil crawled down the left aisle while George, silently berating himself for not being in better shape, crawled down the right aisle while trying not to let his ragged breathing become loud enough to echo in the otherwise empty chapel. Selene and Rhea were wraiths, sneaking in the side fire exits and hovering at either edge of the pulpit, hidden by the richly brocaded curtains that framed it. Only Lucille was not present. She had another task to complete.

No-Nac was a glowing, pulsating blob partially hidden behind the alter. The sing-song sound of chanting drifted out to the main area of the chapel. He didn’t respond as Akcuanrut and the two centaurs noisily strode down the aisle, the sound of echoing hooves hopefully masking any sounds the others might make.

“No-Nac,” Akcuanrut called out as the trio stopped by the first row of seats.

A second mouth, or more accurately a caricature of a mouth, formed while the first continued to chant. “Ah, Akcuanrut|and I see you’ve brought the others|how convenient. Will you approach so that I may consume you or my I again look forward to the sport of battle?” A serpentine tongue slithered from the depths of its mouth to lick the misshapen the lips in anticipation. A chitinous arm formed briefly, only to be sucked back in and replaced by a tail reminiscent of a huge rat’s, before it too was sucked back into the blob.

Akcuanrut had been shocked by the raw power within the building. From outside he had recognized the building as a site of magical power from the emanations seeping out, but some quirk of the structure’s design had retained the vast majority of its power within its walls. Squaring his shoulders he stopped several feet from the pulpit. “Control problems, you seem to be having, No-Nac. Let me help you, why don’t you?”

“I think not little man. Soon I will have all the power I need. I will consume you all and recover the Heart. Then, I will return home in triumph.”

“And to what, to the fighting pit where the Gods imprisoned you, return? A friend once you were. No chance of rekindling that friendship, there is?”

“FOOL! Do you think I would permit that? With this power, I can be safe from their manipulations and yours old man. Now approach and be eaten.”

“I think not, ‘gelatin-for-brains’.” Selene stepped out from behind the drapery that had hidden her. Sword drawn, Rhea also stepped into view.

“I wondered how long you two would cower in the shadows. Why don’t the other two of you show yourselves and we can end this game?” Phil and George hesitantly rose from behind the pews that had hidden them. Each held a dagger, albeit inexpertly, borrowed from one of the barbarian women.

Ackuanrut began to chant. At the first words, a ripple passed over No-Nac, as if he were chilled, but the only clear response was the formation of a third mouth that began chanting a counterpoint to the wizard’s words, somehow different enough to negate the affects of Ackuanrut’s words. From each side, the barbarian women stalked toward No-Nac, swords at the ready and grim smiles on their faces.

“Yes. Come to me, my pretty ones. Let us finish this at last,” the tongue from the first mouth seemed to be making an obscene gesture as the lips curled into an ugly sneer.

“Mouthy little blob, isn’t he Selene?” Rhea laughed.

“All talk and no action, I’ll bet,” Selene quipped back.

With a roar, pseudopods shot out directly towards the two swordswomen, each with a sharply pointed barbed tip. Phil gasped at the incredible speed of the projectiles while George wailed out “No!” in fear for his ex-son’s life. Yet, with equal speed swords flashed and a truncated piece of No-Nac dropped to the floor.

Before they could slither back to the main body, twin swords skewered them and flung them into the corner near Phil. As soon as they touched each other, they combined into a single blob and again began slithering towards No-Nac.

Phil cleared his throat and hesitantly began the chant Akcuanrut had taught him. Even seeing two centaurs and the weird talking blob on the pulpit had not fully convinced Phil of the existence of real magic. Yet, at the first words of the chant, the small blob shuddered and stopped its movement toward No-Nac. It was as if there was an invisible wall that it could not pass beyond. Over. Under. Around. The small blob tried them all|and failed. Instead of rejoining with No-Nac, it slowly retreated as the unseen wall pushed it back towards the corner of the church by Phil and lay there quivering.

Surprised, Phil stopped, only to see the blob rapidly scurry back towards No-Nac again. Fearful that it would return to the main body, Phil quickly began chanting again; this time louder than before. It was as if the blob had hit a brick wall again. With more confidence now, Phil began to chant even louder and watched the blob slowly move back until it was pressed against the wall near him.

Howling in rage, No-Nac threw out more chitinous pseudopods, this time at Akcuanrut and the two centaurs. Emily screamed in fear and Herbert screamed in rage. They both grabbed hands and reared up on their hind legs as instructed by Akcaunrut, lashing out furiously with their forelegs. Akcuanrut merely chanted louder, apparently unconcerned, but both centaurs were sure they were about to be absorbed.

Hooves struck chitin and there was a blinding flash of light. Two more lumps of No-Nac went flying into the other corner of the church by George. As with the first segments, they merged on landing.

“Way to go, Mom. Do it again, Dad.” Rhea glanced away from his furious sword work just long enough to insure that they were safe and to praise his parents.

“Good work, Emily, Herbert,” George Utterson called out from the other side of chapel. “It looks like centaur hooves really are almost as powerful magically as unicorn horns.” Turning back to the blob in the corner, he looked at his dagger and wondered how he could possibly keep the lump before him from scurrying back to No-Nac. Seeking frantically for something better to use, he grabbed a hymnal and threw it at the small blob|and was surprised when it shied away from it.

Throwing another hymnal, the blob shied away again. George thought he heard a faint scream of fear. Quickly, George ran down the aisle, grabbing as many hymnals as he could from the racks on the backs of the pews and threw them at the blob. Each time, it backed away and sought another route back to No-Nac, one that avoided touching the book or even the space above it.

One book struck it and there was a puff of smoke and a loud hiss, followed by a high-pitched screech of pain from both the surrounded blob and from No-Nac. Where the hymnal had struck it was a burn mark, and the blob seemed smaller, as if the book had burned some of it away. George yelled out his discovery to the others and began tossing more books, this time directly at the blob he was guarding.

From this point on things settled into a pattern. Rhea and Selene sparred with No-Nac. Every now and then they managed to chop off pieces of blob and toss them into the corners where Phil and George used the hymnals to contain them and burn a good portion away. Akcuanrut chanted away, beads of sweat forming from his efforts, while Herbert and Emily protected him with flashing hooves. With sufficient time, they would win, but time was against them. Everyone could feel the concentration of magical power as a palpable and growing weight in the air. No-Nac had to be nearing the conclusion of the incantation he was chanting.

“Yoo-hoo! Hello everyone. I found it. I’ve brought the stone.” Lucille Utterson blew into the church with the same fanfare and panache that she used when entering her Garden Club. “Emily? When’s the last time you cleaned that closet dear. I had to wade through....”

Before she was half way down the center aisle to hand the stone to Emily, a long thin pseudopod shot up towards the ceiling. It passed over the heads and reaches of the two barbarian women. Still on the rise, it passed over the heads of the centaurs even as they reared up to protect Akcuanrut. After it cleared the centaurs, it dived down, directly at Lucille where it plucked the Heart of Virtue from a shocked, and for once speechless, Lucille. Maintaining the high arc over everyone’s heads it quickly pulled back into the main blob and disappeared into the center of the writhing mass.

Even before the stone reached the pulpit, and without missing a beat in its chant, No-Nac began to gloat. “I told you I was invincible. I told you that you could not defeat me. Drop your weapons and bow before me now and I may let you live to serve me, else die like the fleas you are.”

“Big talk, blob boy,” Selene spit out and batted a chitinous pseudopod far enough aside to lop it off with her next stroke. No-Nac bellowed in pain, and angrily concentrated two pseudopods on Selene, to the exception of the others.

Free of the blob’s attention for a moment, Rhea charged onto the pulpit and overturned the lectern onto No-Nac. There was a tremendous cloud of smoke and a hiss that almost drowned out the sound of No-Nac bellowing from all three mouths.

No-Nac’s chant had finally been interrupted, but before anyone could cheer, the chanting began again. A gentle breeze started and quickly grew in strength. Within seconds it was gusting about, blowing the hymnals into the air|and still gaining strength.

“Oh hell,” Rhea got out before the roar of the wind drowned out all conversation. “I have a bad feeling about this.” She grabbed for a pew and hoped everyone else had done the same, but the flying debris was so thick he couldn’t see anyone else.

A thin tinkling sound could be heard momentarily above the wind as the stained glass clerestory windows imploded inward. A second later Rhea had a dozen small scratches over her body.

Something large and vaguely humanoid flew by her head and without thinking she released one hand from its death grip on the now rocking and shuddering pew. Her free hand lunged out to grab the shape|a shape that looked very much like Lucille Utterson|and just missed. The shape flew past, leaving nothing but a small piece of fabric in Rhea’s hand. Then something very large crashed into Rhea’s head and everything went black.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“She’s coming around.” A warm body lunged on top of her and before Rhea could reach for her dagger|the dagger she had foolishly given to Phil|the shape began hugging and kissing her.

“Ouch. Stop that. My head hurts, my body hurts. Heck, even my lips hurt. What the heck happened?” she asked as she struggled to push the still slightly blurred shape of her redheaded twin away and sit up.

“Rhea, you watch your language, young man|er, young woman.” It was a deep voice from behind her and turning she realized it was her mother standing there with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Next to him was Rhea’s father pacing nervously back and forth. Beside him was Akcuanrut, muttering and making strange gestures by a nearby tree and Phil, shifting nervously from foot to foot beside the wizard.

“Sorry, Mom; still learning this girl stuff. I seems that old habits die hard. What happened?”

“No-Nac created a portal.”

“No-Nac. Where the he|where is he? And when did he learn to do magic?”

“Gone dear, at least most of him. And he has the Heart of Virtue. As to his mastery of magic, Akcuanrut believes he must have learned some from the Dark Gods, but been prevented from using it by them until he got to our world and out from under their control.”

Rhea nodded in understanding, then groaned and held her head to reduce the pain. “Are we?...”

“Yes Rhea,” a female voice intruded. “We’re back on Akcuanrut’s world. Maybe I’d better recap a bit.” Herbert Lanyon took Rhea’s next groan as assent.

“No-Nac managed to create a portal back to his world. He went through it along with Selene, Phil, Akcuanrut, you mother and me.”

“What about Mr. and Mrs. Utterson? I don’t see them and they must have been sucked in too. I remember trying to grab her as she flew by me.” Rhea saw the pained look on Selene’s face and was immediately sorry she had asked.

“They were. We think No-Nac absorbed them,” was her grim reply.

Rhea felt tears stinging at her eyes and quickly changed the subject. “Did I hear you say No-Nac was gone ‘mostly’?”

Herbert pointed. Under the tree, now only partially obscured by Phil and Akcuanrut and surrounded by hymnals, was a pulsating blob. As she watched, it transformed into a midget D’lon-ra.

“What’s with mini-No-Nac?”

“It claims to be D’lon-ra,” Selene replied, dagger in hand, eyes never leaving the miniature “Emperor’s Hero.”

“I am D’lon-ra!” It tried for a bellow, but it sounded more like the shrill scream of an angry Blue Jay.

“Supposedly, the hymnals burned out the evil portions of the various souls No-Nac had absorbed,” the female centaur pontificated, “and ‘D’lon-ra’ here was the strongest of the ‘good’ personalities left. The interesting feature is that it, or he, claims there is still a small link between No-Nac and himself. He claims he can tell us where the vile creature, and thus the Heart of Virture |is, which is more than Akcuanrut can do at the moment.”

“What’s the Wiz’s problem?”

“Something akin to a magical sprain. Apparently he over-extended himself fighting No-Nac and needs time to recover.”

“So, in other words, he can’t send us home and he can’t fight No-Nac, let alone the Dark Gods. We’re stuck here on a world about to be overrun by evil.”

“Yes, dear. That’s a rather succinct, if grim, summary,” Herbert acknowledged.

With a final groan, Rhea forced herself to stand and recovered her weapons. Sheathing her sword, she stalked over to the tree and kicked the hymnals aside to let the midget D’lonÄra out before anyone could object. “Okay, Lassie. Show us the way.”

“Who is this Lassie? I am D’lon-ra,” it grumbled but pointed. “The Evil One is that way.”

“Rhea, what’s the meaning of this? Where are you going?”

“Well, hopefully we’re all going,” she glanced from face to face judging their willingness to join her quest. “As to where we’re going, that should be obvious. We’re going to find and destroy old blob-boy, recover the Heart of Virtue, bring it to the capital, whatever Akcy over there calls it and save a world from the powers of Darkness. Then, as the reward for our good deeds, the folks at the Wizard’s College are da…uh, show their gratitude by sending us back home, preferably in our own bodies.”

Herbert Lanyon’s only response was, “Oh.”

Rhea watched the reincarnated D’lon-ra trot off down a dirt path amongst the trees. Akcuanrut followed immediately behind still muttering and Phil trailed behind the old wizard, listening intently. Emily and Herbert looked from spouse to kids and back. Herbert held out a hand to her wife and hand-in-hand they slowly paced off after the others.

“Let’s go. We’ve got a job to do.” Rhea waited for Selene, a bit surprised that she would be the last.

A lopsided smile spread over the redheaded barbarian woman’s face. Striding over to Rhea, she put an arm over her blond twin’s shoulder and dragged her after the others. Within five paces, they were skipping along, singing “We're Off to See the Wizard” from “The Wizard of Oz.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

BOOK THREE:

A WALK ON THE WEIRD SIDE

Chapter Twelve:

Interlude

When my son was young he would ask me why

and when I told him he believed.

As he got older, he stopped asking

because he was certain he knew.

When he became an adult, he again asked questions,

but this time, he considered my words, then formed his own opinion.

That was when I finally knew he was a man.

| Anonymous

“Where are the bricks?”

“Huh?” Selene snarled and stopped rubbing her stomach. She had been alternating between rubbing and scanning the environment for most of the morning. Phil was certain she was angry with him given how few words had been exchanged and how brusque those few had been. He was at the point of giving up when he decided on one last stab at humor.

“I said ‘where are the bricks?’ You know; the yellow bricks for this road?”

Selene stopped and turned to Phil, who was walking just behind her on the tree lined road. They were at point so the others had not heard his question. “This isn’t Oz and there isn’t any yellow brick road. Phil, I hope you don’t think this is going to be some pleasant field trip to the zoo or something. There really is death out there waiting for you and I’d hate to think I brought you here just to die.”

“I think I can take care of myself,” Phil huffed.

There was great sadness in Selene’s eyes as she responded. “Please don’t make me show you how wrong you are. Didn’t the situation at the church show you exactly how dangerous this world can be?”

“What it showed me was that there is more to life than the magic of car sales, which is what I was going to be doing in my father’s dealership as soon as high school ended.”

“Phil, I think you’d better go back with the others now. I don’t think I can be responsible for your safety.”

“Huh?

“I said, please go back and join the others. I don’t want to see you harmed as a result of a severe case of overconfidence.”

To say that Phil was taken aback by Selene’s words was an understatement. He stopped and gaped at her with hurt puppy dog eyes as the others trudged toward them and soon caught up to them.

Rhea was the first to notice something was wrong. “Hey, what is this, trouble in paradise?”

“Apprentice? Wrong is something?” Ackuanrut asked.

Selene stared from Phil to Rhea to Ackuanrut. Without warning, she bolted off the path and into the woods.

“Oh, drat. What did I say now?” Rhea asked as she hurried off to find Selene.

“Happened what?”

“I|I don’t know. She’s been mad about something all morning. Trying to cheer her up, a moment ago I asked where the yellow brick road was. I just wanted to see her smile or laugh. Instead, she turned on me at told me to join the group because she couldn’t be responsible for my safety.

“I think I know what might be wrong. I don’t think it was anything you said or did Phil, but I let you know after we’ve spoken.” With that the male centaur strode purposefully off into the woods in search of the two girls.

“Do you know what’s going on, Master?”

“That this is a chance to practice, I know Apprentice. Answer your own question how, may you?”

“I could follow Mrs. Lanyon?”

“Apprentice Skulker you are not. Magically you must think.”

“I could make myself invisible and eavesdrop,” Phil mused, “but you already told me to think of other ways of discovering the information. Besides, I’m not sure I’ve learned sufficient control to avoid all the pitfalls of trying to not exist in terms of the visual, auditory and olfactory senses of several people.

“I could become a copy of her, but I don’t know if I would be able to retain sufficient magic to return to my own body afterwards and twin barbarian princesses is more than enough. Triples would be more than this world could survive. Besides, if I did become a duplicate of her, I probably wouldn’t have sufficient knowledge of how it feels to be female to recognize and interpret the problem.

“I could place a geis on her that would require her to tell me, but that would require me to have more willpower than she does and, quite honestly, I’m not certain I do.

“I could…I…I don’t know what I could do, Master. I’m sorry.” He hung his head.

Ackuanrut sighed deeply. “So close, then gives up he does. Wait patiently you could do. All questions time answers.”

Phil stared after the wizard as Ackuanrut stolled over to a nearby tree and sat leaning against it. He was instantly snoring quietly.

“This is magic?” Phil wondered to himself as he turned to peer at the wooded area where Selene, Rhea and Dr. Lanyon had disappeared.

“Patience it be the magic of, be Apprentice.” The words echoed in Phil’s mind and he twirled back to see Ackuanrut, still by the tree, in mid snore.

Gentle, reproving laughter echoed in Phil’s mind and he thought, “I guess the old guy’s getting some of his magical powers back.” Phil turned back to the woods and stared intently, hoping against hope that no one would realize he was blushing.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Emily Lanyon found his daughter’s wayward friend in a small clearing about a thousand yards from the road. In the midst of a pastoral scene that would have inspired any artist, with small babbling brook and a riot of color from wildflowers that crowded every inch of the sunlit area, Selene sat on a small boulder head bowed and crying while nervously cleaning her sword as Rhea futilely attempted to calm her down. Emily changed into his human form to appear slightly less imposing and walked loudly towards the pair, scuffing his feet against the dirt to insure that his approach was heard.

“Go away. We want to be alone,” Rhea growled before turning back to Selene.

“Do you know why she’s upset?”

“No. Now go away and leave us alone. This is girl|guy|private stuff.”

Selene sniffed in apparent agreement with her friend’s position.

“Yes, it is. Now do you know why Selene’s upset?”

“Because Phil was a pig, just like that other pig, his friend Tim.”

“I don’t think so,” Emily replied. “Have you asked her?”

“I’ll ask her as soon as she’s stopped crying. Now leave us, the heck, alone.”

“Rhea Lanyon, you watch your tone of voice. I’ll allow for your concern for your friend, but I am still your mother|in mind and spirit, if not in body.” Turning to Selene even before Rhea could mutter an apology, he asked, “Selene dear. It’s okay. If you can’t talk that’s okay, but you can nod your head and I need to ask you some questions.

“Are you angry with Phil? Has he said or done something to hurt you?”

A nod followed by a head shake.

“So you’re mad at him, but not for something he’s said or done. Do you know why you’re mad at him?”

A head shake.

“Does your stomach hurt or feel funny, like something’s wrong, but you can’t quite place what it is?”

A nod. The tears slowly stopped as Selene considered Emily Lanyon’s words.

“Do you also feel like you need to do something, but you don’t know quite what it is you need to do? I always felt that way just before.”

“Uh-huh.” It was accompanied by a nod as if Selene wasn’t certain her whispered words had been heard.

“Selene dear, I think you’re suffering from PMS, premenstrual syndrome. You’re about to have your period.”

The two barbarian women stared at the male centaur in disbelief. Finally, Rhea blurted out, “That’s not possible. Only females have … oh. OH!”

“Yes, dear, only females menstruate. Having been one for the first forty years of my life, I recognize the signs, although I admit I don’t miss their absence now.

“I suggest you take Ackuanrut aside and privately ask him to provide whatever is used on this world to control the bleeding. You might also ask him if he has anything to help with the irritability and other symptoms.

“By the way, Rhea, you might want to join Selene when you have that conversation. If you’re not about to get your monthly visitor, you will get it soon. In fact,” Mrs. Lanyon mused aloud, “I’d better have this conversation with you father too|or do centaurs just go into heat? I wonder.”

“Now come on. Get up and let’s join the rest of our party. They’re waiting for us and we still have an evil amorphous blob to catch and destroy.”

“But I can’t.” Selene was crying again. “I’ve been horrible to Phil. He must hate me. And the others|how can they trust me if I can’t keep my head?”

“By being brave and doing what you have to do’ that’s what women have done for eons and will continue to do for eons to come. Now come on girl, we’ve got work to do.”

With that, Emily reached out a hand and took Selene’s. The centaur gently pulled the barbarian woman to her feet and led her back towards the others.

Rhea followed; a bemused expression on her face as she grumbled to no one in particular, “What kind of quest is this? People don’t have bodily needs during quests. Ask anyone who’s done role play gaming. There’s never a bathroom or even a need for a bathroom. If we’re going to have to deal with things like PMS, we’re going to have to deal with all the rest of the things women deal with like getting … OH MY GOD!”

The others turned back to see what the problem was. Selene was comforted to know that, PMS or not, her sword was out of its scabbard and in her hand before she completed her turn. Behind her, she could hear the others approaching at a dead run.

“I think the word you’re searching for dear, is ‘pregnant,” Emily calmly offered.

“What? Who’s pregnant? What’s going on here?” Herbert Lanyon shouted, drowning out similar questions from the others. Turning towards an equally shocked Phil, the centaur filly glared and asked ominously, “Do you know anything about this, Phillip?”

“Yeah Phil, I thought we meant something to each other,” Selene chimed in mischievously.

“Selene, don’t make things worse than they are. Everyone, no one is pregnant, at least not at the moment.

“I think a bit more of an explanation is in order here, Emily,” Dr. Lanyon blustered. “One of the girls definitely screamed and that usually means something’s wrong.”

“We can talk later, dear. For now, thank you for caring enough to come running, but it was a false alarm. I think Selene’s ready to resume our trek so, if everyone’s had sufficient opportunity to rest…” she completed the statement with a gesture to usher everyone back to the path.

“Not quite, Mrs. Lanyon,” Selene interjected. “Rhea and I need to speak to Ackuanrut.” When no one moved, she made ‘shooing movements’ and added, “Privately, please.”

With that the others reluctantly moved off towards the road. Before pulling the elder sorcerer aside, Selene called out as sweetly as she could, “Phil, dear, would you please join me at point in a few moments? I owe you an apology.”

~~~ oOo ~~~

The night was clear and comfortable, brightly lit by the two moons. The sounds of the small brook bubbling away just beneath the trees at the edge of the clearing would have been appealing under different circumstances, but it was a quiet and introspective group that pitched camp that night. Rhea was still coming to grips with the realities of her new gender. Selene was off in the shadows at the edge of the campsite, doing her best, despite her discomfort, to convince Phil that she was not mad at him. D’lon-ra was off hunting his dinner and spending the night away from the group in recognition that he was still not fully accepted and trusted. Akcuanrut was off preparing potions for Rhea and Selene to ease their premenstrual symptoms.

“Dear?” Dr. Lanyon asked her wife as they grazed on some delicious wild wheat a short distance from the camp.

“Yes?”

“Do you think Rhea and Selene have changed?”

“You mean more than what would be expected from someone still acclimating to something as basic as a change in gender?”

“Yum. Try this,” Dr. Lanyon pointed to a sprout of rye grass, “and yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Emily pondered for a while before answering. “I don’t know. There have been changes, this afternoon’s discoveries are just the most recent, but I also see Rhea as being more polite|not cursing as much. And Selene seems to have picked up a boyfriend which makes me wonder a bit. But I can’t tell what is due to the change in gender and what is due to the rather unusual situation we all seem to be in. Why do you ask, Herbert?”

“Because I wonder if there might not be yet another explanation for these changes.” Dr. Lanyon hesitated.

“Don’t stop now, dear. You’ve got my full attention.”

“Well. It’s based on something Akcuanrut said. We were talking about magic and he was trying to explain how it worked.”

“You mean other than centaur magic, I presume. We don’t seem to need to do anything special when we change shapes etc.”

“True, but I’m not certain we are unaffected too.”

“This doesn’t sound good. Herbert Lanyon you tell me what you’re talking about right now. No more beating around the bush.”

“Of course, Emily dear. It seems that the measure of how good a wizard is is how little he is affected by the magic he causes. It’s common for someone who creates evil magic, even for the best of motives, to become at least a bit more evil.

“He used the example of No-Nac, an Emperor’s Hero who is now clearly evil, due to his prolonged contact with evil magic. Unlike D’lon-ra, he ignored his magical training and thus couldn’t protect himself.”

“I’ll come back to how that affects us in a moment, but does that mean that No-Nac could be saved if he was surrounded by good magic for a long period of time?” Emily asked.

“Exactly. Akcuanrut says that the long term goal is to bring No-Nac back to the College of Wizards and surround him in a bubble of good magic.”

“So why didn’t he do that backing the Dungeon of Despair or whatever he called it, where we first meet him?”

“I asked Akcuanrut that same question. Apparently, it takes a minimum of five wizards to create something like that and more, many more, to sustain it for any length of time. Despite his rather prodigious abilities, Akcuanrut just didn’t have the ability to do it himself.”

“Let’s get some water from that stream,” Emily suggested and they cantered across the field toward the brook, swinging wide of the campsite in order to continue their conversation in private.

“So, to continue your logical arguments, if No-Nac can be changed from good to evil, or vise versa, by contact with magic, you’re wondering if Rhea and Selene could be changed by magic.”

“Or us.”

“Or…Oh! Do you think we’ve changed?” Emily stopped short.

“I don’t know. Most of what’s happened so far has been driven by factors beyond our control. We’ve been reacting rather than acting. My guess is yes, but I don’t know how.”

The remainder of the night was spent in silence as each considered the implications.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Thirteen:

Friends and Enemies

He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare,

And he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere.

| Ali ibn-Abi-Talib

Coming out of the trees, the path overlooked the rolling green valley of Ede with its areas of cultivated land covering much of the right side and grazing land to the left, but the pastoral scene was marred by the battle raging in the center of the valley where a score or two of centaurs were encircled by at least twice that many humans on horseback and an equal number on foot.

Akcuanrut was flabbergasted. He had just finished describing how Ede had a long tradition of peaceful coexistence between man and centaur, being one of the few places outside the capital where the centaurs were not hunted down for their magic.

Dr. Lanyon, ever the teacher, began to relate it to the human equivalent of hunting the tiger to near extinction for the perceived power of its various body parts, but Selene never heard the end of the lecture. Sword drawn, she went charging down the hill, screaming a battle cry, with Rhea less than a single step behind her.

After Emily and Herbert shared that classic parental perplexed look of “what are we going to do with them,” they called for Akcuanrut and Phil to jump on their backs and follow. D’lon-ra turned into a ball and began rolling down the hill, building speed as he went, and catching up to the still screaming barbarian women at the bottom of the slope.

The rabble on foot scattered to allow the three sword-wielders through to the battle within, presumably thinking they were coming to help the other humans, but they closed ranks again before the two centaurs could reach the battle lines. Swords, staffs and rocks were raised menacingly, until the horde realized that there were humans riding, and apparently directing, the centaurs.

By the time the centaurs reached the circle of humans surrounding the battle, Selene, Rhea and D’lon-ra were in the center of the conflict, laughing and joking back and forth as they stood back to back swords flashing. They were being careful to incapacitate, but not maim or kill anyone as they indiscriminately traded blows with centaur and human alike.

Stopping a couple of yards from the line of spears, Akcuanrut stood on the male centaur’s shoulders, balancing himself with the aid of a hand from Emily. From his higher vantage point he could see that, while D’lon-ra and the barbarian women were making a significant and growing dent in the number of participants, there were still enough participants to keep the battle going for a while longer.

“Apprentice. Levitation, do the spell for.”

“But Master Akcuanrut, I’ve never done that spell for more than one or two small objects.” Phil stared worriedly at the battlefield.

“Then practice you need and practice this be.”

“The whole battlefield Master?”

Akcuanrut nodded and waited, patiently standing atop Mrs. Lanyon. Phil closed his eyes and pursed his lips as he muttered and gestured in a seemingly random fashion. Suddenly his eyes opened long enough for a single blink and then slammed shut. The strain became even more evident from the tightened muscles in his neck and the reddish cast of his face.

Slowly, so slowly that some failed to even notice it as they hacked and slashed away, the entire group edged upward into the air. When they were high enough that the centaurs could walk beneath the combatants, they did so at an easy stroll.

Roughly at the center of the melee, Akcuanrut tapped Emily gently with his feet and he stopped. By then, all the combatants had realized something was up and had ceased hostilities. While they still glanced warily at each other, their main focus was now on the wizard below.

Rhea gave a huge smile and waved down at them, calling out “Hi, Mom. Hi, Pop. Hi, Phil. Hey, Akie, why’d you stop our fun?”

Mr. Lanyon gave her daughter a tentative wave in return, but Emily Lanyon merely frowned and waited for Akcuanrut to proceed.

“Responsible for this, who be?” The wizard’s voice was calm and friendly, but with an air of authority that would accept nothing less than a complete and honest answer. He spoke in a normal conversational voice, yet everyone heard him as if they were beside him.

“They broke the truce. They butchered Medgrid and hid his body somewhere.” It was a huge human, close to the center of the conflict that spoke with venom.

“’Tis a lie,” an even larger male centaur, the only one there, Emily noticed, retorted with equal fervor. “’Tis Red Paint t’was killed and her body hidden by these heathen humans.”

Before anything more could be said, given the potential that whatever was said would exacerbate the situation rather than serve to calm the waters, Akcuanrut raised his hand for silence. Thinking a moment, he turned to the leader of the humans and asked, “Medgrid’s death, you discovered it how if there was no body?”

“Why from Red Paint. She came to us to gloat over her actions, saying she did it for the pleasure of the act.”

Turning to the male centaur, Akcuanrut asked, “And Red Paint’s death, you discovered it how?”

“Why from Medgrid. He stood upon the hill by our favorite grazing field and called out in gory detail how he had murdered Red Paint, cut her into small pieces and ate her raw.”

“Manipulated I fear you have been. A story tell you I must.”

“Uh, Master Akcuanrut?”

“Yes, Apprentice?” Akcuanrut turned to Phil, irritated at the interruption.

“May I let them down, please?”

“Uh, oh. One moment.” Turning to the two leaders, he asked, “Hostilities can you both promise to withhold?”

They both nodded and each called out instructions to stand down to their followers. Akcuanrut gave Phil a brief nod. Immediately, albeit a bit shakily, everyone was lowered to the ground. The two leaders stalked over to Akcuanrut, stopping about ten feet from each other and the wizard.

“What is this story and why is it important that we hear it?” they both asked simultaneously and then glared at each other for having the temerity to speak at the same time as the other.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“So, you believe this No-Nac ate them both and then set us up to fight for the sole purpose of slowing you and your troop down? Yet you have provided no evidence of the truth of this.”

“True, I have no proof, but I would ask each of you to consider one last thought. What were Medgrid and Rep Paint like as people? Were they evil? Did they like to hurt others? Was it common for them to gloat over the evil done to others?”

The silence was becoming oppressive when the centaur male looked back to the others and quietly said, “No, Red Paint was caring and compassionate. She would go out of her way to help others. Her special skill was healing and she took it very seriously. With all deference to what you saw, Iccles, it just does not sound like her.”

“Likewise Medgrid,” Iccles offered. “He was a teacher, known for helping others, guiding them toward the ‘Right’. I can honestly say that I never once heard him, or had another report of hearing him, make a disparaging comment about another.”

“While proof it is not, suggestive it is,” Akcuanrut noted. “Unlikely to act as they appear to have acted these two beings are. Likely to fall victim to someone who appears to be in need they are. For one such as No-Nac an easy capture.”

As Iccles and Windflyer wandered off to explain the situation to their people and Herbert, Emily and the others all sighed in relief. Emily, however, continued prancing from foot to foot as if in pain. Finally, she trotted off toward a small group of humans, several of whom were lying on the ground with what appeared to be serious wounds.

“Emily,” Herbert called out worriedly, seeing the humans eyeing her in a less than friendly manner, “Where are you going?”

“I’m not sure, dear,” she called back over her shoulder. “I feel this urge, no compulsion, to go help those wounded people.”

“But those people don’t look like they want your help, dear,” Herbert noted a she trotted off after her wife. There was no way she was going to let him be hurt because he wanted to be helpful.

“I know. I…I…something is drawing me to them, making me. I can’t help myself.”

Herbert caught up t Emily about twenty feet from the cluster of humans, about the same time that they turned and formed a wall, swords drawn, between the centaurs and the wounded humans.

“Leave us to our wounded, centaurs, your kind are not wanted here.”

“I’m sorry. Those people, they hurt, they need help. Please. I need to help them.”

“We’ve lost enough friends to your kind. No more. Leave us.”

“I don’t want to hurt them. I…”

“Those people are dying, aren’t they?” Herbert interrupted. “They’ll likely be dead by nightfall without care. Emily wants to help them. If you truly want no more deaths, what do you have to lose?”

It took a bit more persuasion, but eventually, the humans moved aside and Emily rushed to the closest wounded man. Without thinking, she carefully positioned herself on her front knees and placed her hands gently on the man’s chest. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the man’s wound, a deep cut to the waist, probably piercing his liver, began to bubble and ooze. Strange fluids bubbled out and jumped through the air to a matching spot on Emily’s side. Groaning in pain, but with a look of sheer bliss, Emily continued until the bubbling stopped and the wound healed itself into fresh new skin with only a trace of a scar.

This was repeated for each of the other men as the humans, and soon several of the centaurs watched. As the last man was healed, still kneeling, Emily tiredly sought out Herbert. “Help me up please, dear. I don’t think I can stand on my own at the moment.” Then, she fell over on her side unconscious.

~~~ oOo ~~~

“…can’t do that, can he?”

“Can he, yes,” Akcuanrut replied. He was about to continue when Herbert turned away.

“Emily’s awake.” Herbert immediately trotted over to her wife who was in an upright position with a cloth sling holding her in place so that her feet just touched the ground.

“Emily? Dear? How do you feel?” he solicitously asked as he gently rubbed his hair and back.

“I…I’m okaaaayyyy,” he slurred and struggled to stand on her own.

“Don’t struggle, dear, you’re in a sling to keep you upright.”

“Whaa…?”

“If you had remained laying on your side your internal organs would have shut down from the weight and you would have died.”

“The people?”

“You saved them, all five of them. You’ve found your special magic; you’re a healer, my dear.”

“Good. I’m glad. Can I get out of this contraption now? It’s not very comfortable.”

“Do you think you can stand on your own?”

“I think so. Let’s find out.”

As Herbert slowly released the tension on the sling, Emily braced his feet. Shortly, she had her full weight on her feet and was taking a few tentative steps.

“Ready to travel, is he?” Akcuanrut asked nervously. He had just been instructing the others to prepare to move out as soon as possible.

“I guess so,” Emily answered, albeit without any confidence in his voice. “What’s the rush?”

“Uh, how about we get moving and I’ll explain as we walk?”

~~~ oOo ~~~

No-Nac was furious. He didn’t expect to be lucky enough to have Akcuanrut and his hangers on die in that little war he had engineered, but at the least it could have slowed them down. Instead, it had taken longer to start things than it had taken for them to end it. He needed time, time to get where he needed to go and time once he got there. Well, the ice tower was the next obvious stop along the way. He’d have to stop them there.

~~~ oOo ~~~

Chapter Fourteen:

Stalactites to the Right, Stalagmites to the Left; Stuck In the Middle Again

If you kick a stone in anger, you'll hurt your own foot.

| Korean Proverb

“So Windflyer was ready to fight you, but he really didn’t want to because if he won he would have to drive you away and if he lost he’d have to leave.”

“Just because I’m a male centaur?”

“That and because you’re a healer. No-Nac killed Red Paint. She was their healer and Windflyer knew that for the benefit of the herd they needed one. He even offered to take your place in our quest, giving you the herd. I suspect it nearly killed him to make that offer, a stallion voluntarily giving up his herd, so you can see how important it was to him.”

“Wow! I could have had my own herd?”

“Is that what you want, Emily?” Herbert suddenly stopped trotting beside Emily who took several more steps before realizing she was not beside him anymore.

Turning, he asked, “What? Did I say something wrong? Please talk to me, Herbert dear.”

“Do you want to be herd stallion?”

“I never really thought about it. I suppose it could be fun, but I think I’d rather finish this quest, go home and put my feet up for a couple of weeks before we start teaching classes next semester.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Herbert, I’m sure, but what’s the matter? Something is clearly bothering you.”

“It’s these bodies.”

“Yes, Herbert, what about them?”

“They, uh, they…”

“Oh, Herbert, just say it already. It’s clearly important to you.”

“Yes, dear!” the words came out in a rush. “These bodies are changing us, how we act, how we feel. I almost gave myself to Windflyer and joined his herd. All he would have had to do was ask and I would have done it. I couldn’t have helped myself. I wouldn’t have wanted to help myself. I…” Herbert finally wound down, still not moving, head down in shame; tears silently trickled down her cheeks.