Chapter 3 – Awakening
1.
 

"But it makes no sense whatsoever, miss-"

"Call me Isaura," she answered, brushing a stray strand of hair from the girl's face.

She found she couldn't refrain from such intimate gestures, since Ashe's 'awakening'. With the girl speaking, with feeling and animation in her face instead of weeks of stone dullness, she was both pretty and, well ...too darned cute. She reminded Isaura so much of the way Shea looked when she was a teen.

"And what makes no sense?"

"I-Isaura. Thanks. Um, ...that a... a... a... -"

"-the dark goddess," Isaura whispered.

"Thanks, that fucking Ymra, would do this to me!"

"Sshh! Do not speak that way of her! It's what someone told me, who said she saw your change…"

After the girl had calmed from her awakening - or at least stopped screaming - and began to understand that the giant and the strange Alarian woman meant her no immediate harm, she allowed Zinjo to carry her back to their wagon.

Then the questions started.

Of course she would have them, this bright young alquimista. Dozens and dozens. At first, her thoughts were scattered and confused, as if the pieces of her mind were still finding their way back together. But minute by minute, the girl's thoughts sharpened.

"What caused this? Is it reversible? Would healers be able to help? Was a potion used? And if so what were the components? Did I die?"

Isaura wasn't sure what the girl thought of the strangers she found herself with. She imagined after Ashe caught sight of her brightly painted vardo wagon, the girl assumed Isaura and Zinjo were a pair of bizarrely matched gypsy travelers. Since the girl's emotions were swinging wildly between manic and catatonic disbelief, Isaura thought it best not to correct her.

Zinjo rode ahead, pleased as could be to leave Isaura with the task of answering the questions of one who awoke to find himself changed to a different species and gender. He would have a campfire crackling and waiting for them when they arrived. Though still only mid-morning, Isaura was certain Ashe could use a good hot meal.

'Eating something delicious always makes things better,' the sorceress reasoned. It wasn't a learning she'd gleaned from her decades as a sorceress, it was just good common sense.

And because she needed to use the privacy of her wagon's interior to contact di'Sona with her scrying bowl, Zinjo would cook up one of his famous stews for Ashe outside. Thankfully, though the air was winter crisp, the sun was out, giving them the appearance of warmth.

Isaura's mind puzzled on other questions as well, even as she answered the girl's:

Where to travel next? Which way led to Sheala's real murderer? To whomever infected her? Was their path back to Imis, to warn the Arch Duchess? Or to the capital of Caphila, where her daughter was betrayed? To Ogda, to take the girl to the comfort of friendly faces? Or to Millcrest, to consult with Soothsayer Crow again?

'Too many choices…'

For now, she decided it was best to make camp once more at Sapphire Falls and let Ashe soak in the wonder. A sense of guilt made Isaura keen to refill the girl's head with as many good new memories as she could.

"I agree one hundred percent, love," Isaura said, returning to the girl's latest question. "I have no idea why a goddess would change you like this."

Truth. Isaura knew why di'Sona invoked the goddess to change Aesh, to both keep her alive and make her subject to the horrific Torc. The sorceress thought her sister's plea to the goddess irresponsible and idiotic, but at least she understood it.

'But why in the name of all the gods and goddesses above and below did Ymra grant it? 'Isaura wondered, 'and why change her gender???

That confused the sorceress most of all. Isaura gave a frustrated sigh: the gods were ever fickle and obscure.

In answering Ashe's questions, Isaura adopted the practice of telling her as much truth as she could, but omitting the horrors Ashe endured. For instance, when Ashe asked why she and Zinjo had taken her in, Isaura answered with:

"Because when I found you there, in Imis, senseless, among people who meant you harm, I knew I must take you with me,"

- all true - was far healthier than:

'Because when you pushed the blade through my only daughter's heart, my sadistic sister wrapped an ancient torture device around your neck, devouring your free will, and then she and her followers tormented you and violated your body in ways I can't imagine. So I took you, and almost killed you many times myself.’

"And why must you insist on calling me by an elf girl's name? My name is Aesh!"

"I'm sorry, I only do so because I think it wise. And, so you know, 'elf' is a mortal term; we prefer ’Alarian’. Which you are now, love, one hundred percent pure."

Isaura watched the girl scowl as she processed that information.

"Now think!" The sorceress continued, appealing to her reason. "'Aesh' is a popular Ogdian male name. Anyone we meet will naturally be curious to learn why a darling little Alarian girl is so named. Are you prepared to answer those questions?"

"Well, no... I..." Ashe scowled again. "No, I don't have a clue how to answer that."

"And this name I've been calling you, 'Ashe,' is so close to your real name, won't you consider pretending to be Ashe for now?"

"That ...makes sense, but I'll only answer to it while I'm – temporarily - like this," Ashe pouted, still unhappy with the new name even if she saw the logic.

Isaura reflexively smiled and hugged the girl; her pout reminded her so much of the faces Sheala made in her rebellious teens.

'I cannot imagine what's going through her mind, awakened to find herself far from the place of her last memory, among strangers, and thrust into the body of a girl, mercurial teen emotions and all.'

"Oh! Another question! Why... er... sorry, am I asking too many questions? Heh. When I do that with Master Bexon, he tells me to put a sock in it. Kinda cute in a quaint sort of way. Me? I take a more subtle approach when people go crazy with the questions. I make this face…"

Ashe scrunched her face into a sour expression.

"What's that look?" Isaura asked, in between giggles.

"That's exactly what people ask when I do," Ashe said. "And I tell em 'I'm sorry, but that's what my face automatically does when someone asks me a really fucking stupid question'."

Isaura burst into laughter, her first genuine one since Shea's death. It seemed that Aesh the Impious had now become Ashe the Impious.

'What a crime if her delightful wit had been destroyed, and thank Aana it hadn't.

"Now... Master Bexon," Isaura asked, once her laughs and giggles stopped. "He's your alquimista master?"

"Was," Ashe added, a frown forming. "Now I'm a... um... now that I suffer from this affliction, I can't be an alquimista, since we... they...damn it ...only train men. This, er, affliction won't last long, will it? It can't. I am so screwed if it does."

"Affliction? Aana help me!" Isaura rolled her eyes. "Since when is being a woman an affliction?! And surely you see how wrong your exalted alquimistas are! Do you understand your learnings any less, now that you suffer this ‘affliction’?"

Ashe's forehead crinkled, and Isaura guessed the girl was reviewing formulas and recipes, to make sure her mind could still cypher them.

Isaura also guessed the issues the girl faced, or rather, wasn't facing. Specifically, her transformation. At least a dozen times since they started back to the Falls, Isaura watched the girl hold her hand in front of her and stare at it, almost as if she was willing it to morph back to her old hand. She refused to let her eyes drop to her chest. The sorceress braced for the fireworks of when Ashe would have to relieve herself.

"No, I understand everything the same," Ashe paused, her face growing thoughtful. Isaura could almost read the girl's thoughts: 'how much can I tell this stranger?' Her next words were guarded:

"So.... I... I need to get to Edefia fast. I have... er ...urgent business there. Can you take me to the nearest port city? It's, um, a matter of life or death. I'd be happy to pay you to-"

Ashe froze midsentence, and a look of panic crossed her face.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I have no money, or identification... or anything! Who will even believe me when I tell them I'm…"

The girl's speech halted again and this time her expression changed to suspicion.

"Why do you believe me? You say you weren't there when this happened. If that's true, why do you believe what no sane person would?"

"Because I trust the person who told me-"

"-And why are you helping me?" Distrust rose in Ashe's voice. "What's in it for you?"

'Oh Ashe, I have so many reasons to give you all the aid I can. Because I, every bit as much as di'Sona, meant to harm you…

-The true horror of what Isaura had almost done was beginning to dawn on the sorceress-

‘...and now it is my duty to atone. For I considered emptying your soul as punishment for my daughter's death…'

A true sentiment. But there was more to it than that, and she knew it.

'Because I believe you are a key to helping me have vengeance on those who murdered my Sheala…'

And she would have her vengeance. Yet Isaura knew she and the girl were goddess-called for greater tasks than revenge. Aliana’s cards foretold it: together they were called to hunt those who opposed life.
But there was more to it than even that. Sitting next to this young girl, who was so very lost, Isaura's heart fired with the compassion of Aana. She took Ashe's hand in her own, kissed it and gave the truest answer she could:

"You don't know me. You have zero reasons to trust me. And only Aana knows how terrified you must feel. But please, please, please believe me when I say I will help you in every way I can. I will take you to a port, and pay your passage home-"

"I don't need handouts," Ashe said, with a prideful glower. "I'll work to earn it-"

"-Oh shush! Let me earn your trust over the comings days. Will you promise to give Zinjo and me a chance, oh Aesh the open-minded Alquimista?"

The girl muttered something under her breath that Isaura couldn't quite make out. Or maybe the reason she didn't catch it was because she'd simply never heard the combination of 'fudgepuppy mouse droppings' before. And then the girl impishly stuck her tongue out, making the sorceress laugh again.

"I take it that's a ...yes?"

"So low of you to appeal to my vanity. And honestly, I am in no position to turn you down," Ashe said. Then she squeezed Isaura's hand gently and gave her a small smile. "But yes. I really hope you mean what you say. It's the only hope I have. You have no idea how grave the stakes are."

'Oh, but I do…'

2.

Sapphire Falls

The Falls were like nothing Ashe had seen before. Its soft glowing blue light made her body hum, and she felt if she stepped off the edge of Aalt Gorge, the sparkling mist would welcome her and carry her away.

She held up her small hand once more, turned it, and curled her fingers to look at her nails.

'It's a pretty hand, delicate and flawless. Just not my hand.'

Ashe ran the hand through her hair; it was getting damp from the waterfall mist. And as she did -again!- she bumped against her pointy ears.

"Damn it."

They were so sensitive, much more so than her real ears. She could hear far more keenly now. All her senses were sharpened; she could see thrice as far, smell fragrances of plants, of animals, of the soil, from far away. And touch? When she held her hand up, she swore she felt the air. Taste was the only sense she hadn't yet tried.

Then the reality of her predicament crashed down on her again.

'I can't ...do this.'

It was too much. How could she carry on? How could she track the professor as she was? Warn the world of the danger? Like this? She was in the body of a teen! An elf girl's body! Who would take her seriously?

'I don't even know where the hells I am!'

Or ...how in the names of all the gods and goddesses would she find the powerful mysterious sorceress called the Queen of Wands? All she'd found was a giant man, and a young eccentric Alarian woman who liked, it seemed, to masquerade as a gypsy peddler.

'I've lost Breviar. I've failed.'

She moved closer to the gorge edge, closed her eyes and listened; the crash of the water, tumbling thousands of feet down to the pool below, formed a harmonic crescendo, a background song to the sparkling blue mist that rose.

 

"Don't stand close, little one, iz dangerous."

Zinjo’s voice barely registered to Ashe.

'With a single step, I end the madness. It would be easy... so easy to...'–Sadly, besides being one of the most traveled tourist destinations in the Seven Kingdoms, Sapphire Falls was also a popular suicide spot for the Kingdoms.

When her left foot inched forward, an enormous paw grabbed her by the waist. And just like that, Ashe found herself slung over the giant's shoulder, kicking her legs in the air as Zinjo carried her away from the gorge's edge.

"Hey! I only wanted to get a better view! Put me down!"

Zinjo did, but only when they arrived back at their campfire.

"So sorry, leetle one, but maybe new body you are clumsy with? Zinjo did not want cold swim to fish you out."

Ashe mumbled a response that made even the giant's eyebrows rise; the profanity coming out in no way matching the young innocent lips speaking them.

"...and another thing, stop calling me 'little one'. I am -er, was- a man who was almost six feet tall."

Zinjo burst into laughter, and his hands clasped his sides as his body shook with mirth.

"What's so damned funny?" Ashe's face reddened and she felt like stamping her foot. 'Where were these emotions coming from?'

"Because... hahahaha... you are ALL... haha ...leetle ones to me!"

Ashe tried so hard, but she couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face. She'd never thought of it from his perspective.

"Now, if leetle girl who used to be leetle man iz finished with leetle jokes, iz time for big lunch."

"I'm really not..."

Ashe never finished her sentence with 'that hungry', because Zinjo lifted the lid to the stew pot he'd left cooking.

"Oh gods! That smells heavenly!" Ashe's new enhanced smell sense tried to make her dive into the pot. "What is it?!"

"Iz called Zinjo's Zuprise. The surprise iz meat - whatever iz handy. Sometimes venison, other times snake, or maybe whatever crawly things are around."

"Trailkill stew? Ewww," Ashe crinkled her nose. But the stew's fragrance was too seductive. "What's in this batch?"

"Rabbit." Zinjo dipped a spoon in and waved it under Ashe's nose. "Like leetle taste?"

"Yes, please."

Her alquimista studies trained her to precisely identify compounds and ingredients, so when she took the spoon into her mouth, and her enhanced Alarian senses kicked in, she tasted rabbit, yes, but also mushrooms, onions, herbs too, rosemary, thyme, and... and... her analysis shut down because it tasted so freaking good she couldn't keep thinking.

"Soooooo gooooood."

Zinjo handed her a bowl, which she snatched and plowed into. After she'd wolfed down half of it, she looked up, and her face reddened.

"I'm sorry, this is rude, isn't it?"

"Bah, iz greatest compliment to chef."

"You know," Ashe pointed her spoon at the stew pot hanging over the glowing fire, "I've tried cooking. I mean, the dormitory food at my university in Edefia sucked so bad, we were forced to experiment with cooking as a matter of survival. I used the best ingredients and followed recipes to the tiniest ounce, but never managed something this wonderful!"

"Iz because you leave out most important ingredient. A chef must also cook with intention, with heart," Zinjo pointed the stew ladle at Ashe's left breast. "You must know how you want it to taste. Otherwise only taste blah."

"Really? Heart?" Ashe said with a full mouth, "That's not how we are taught. Sounds too much like magic. We are trained to use what exists, is measurable, and-"

"- magic does not exist?" A wry smile spread across the giant's craggy face.

Of course, magic must exist, otherwise a he would have been sitting here instead of a she. Instead of admitting that, she slurped another bite of the savory stew.

"Or let me ask you this," Zinjo said, ladling a second helping into her bowl. With her last bite, she completely demolished the first. If he hadn't added more, she would have started licking her bowl.

"Iz it not true you use Dragon's Breath in chrysopoeia experiments? Yet it cannot be seen, touched or felt, yes?"

Ashe regarded the giant closer now. It was true. Not the dragon breath part; they only called it that to discourage others from seeking it. The gas was actually found in shallow pockets under the bogs in southern Ogda. Bottling it in sealed ceramic jars was a tricky piece of work.

No, what was true, but was one of the deepest secrets of the alquimistas, was they had used the gas as a reactant in their chrysopoeia process - the transmutation of lead to gold. How did the giant know this?

"Well, yes, but, it is measureable, while heart-"

"-iz not?" Zinjo stirred the stew pot. "I ask you something else. You love your papa?"

"Loved. He's dead now," Ashe looked out at the Falls, the dancing sparks of blue. "I loved him very, very much."

"Oh, sorry to hear." Ashe felt the compassion in his words. "But, your Alquimista Master, you love him too?"

"I suppose, but in a different way."

"Different how? Less intense?"

Ashe nodded. "Far less intense."

"Measurable?"

The girl blinked several times when she realized where the giant had led her. Intensity was a valid measurement.

"Often," Zinjo chuckled in a gentle tone, "heart, love, call it what you wish, iz missing ingredient, from good dishes and other experiments, too, I bet."

Ashe's eyes widened. As Aesh, she passed all her alquimista tests to be a master, save one, the Alquimista Puzzle. Not a traditional puzzle, it was a large cube, four to five feet high, and it held an inner chamber deep within, that also held a vial of acid.

The final graduation test was straightforward enough: the hopeful apprentice's diploma was placed in the inner chamber, the cube was locked, and puzzles set. The apprentice then worked his way through a series of alchemical tests and challenges embedded on the cube, unlocking and opening more and more of it with each test passed until the final chamber was unlocked and the new Alquimista retrieved his diploma.

But the puzzle was timed; when the first puzzle on the cube was engaged, it started the sands running in the innermost chamber. The cube was also sensitive to motion. And if the final sand grain fell or if the apprentice tried to break into the inner chamber by force, then the acid poured out, destroying the diploma. Only one try per year was permitted.

The Alquimista Puzzle was their ultimate challenge and next to their formula for turning lead to gold, their deepest secret.

Aesh had tried twice to unlock it and failed, and each time his master told him he lacked one last element that was key. Could the missing element be heart?

She regarded the giant with wonder.

"I owe you an apology. I assumed because of your great size you were dull. I see now you are very wise." She bowed her head. "Please forgive me."

"Aww, iz nothing, I expect it." He cuffed the back of her head gently. Or as gently as a giant can. "Do not be hard on self, leetle people has such leetle brains."

When she saw him wink and caught his joke, she burst into laughter, which he quickly joined.
Then, he held his hand up.

"Something nearby I think. Coming closer."

He stood, turned to the south, and sniffed the air.

"Go to Isaura quickly, yes? Tell her I've gone to check something."

With that he bounded away with such enormous strides, he was soon lost to sight.

3.

'...from what I've learned, someone, the one called Blood Burn, which I suspect is also known as Breviar, created a disease that even affects us. Shea was betrayed…'

Isaura steadied her breathing, strove to keep the anger from exploding at the thought of the torture her daughter must have been subjected to.

'...by one, powerful enough to subject an Alarian to geas. She must be in league with Blood Burn…'

-Scry speech was difficult enough under normal circumstances, but especially hard over vast distances. It took iron will control-

' ...and she it was who sent Shea to Imis as a... a... weapon, to spread sickness among our people, I think...'

Isaura knew a secret about scrying. Wizards, witches, sorcerers and sorceresses, were taught - for centuries, or millennia, even - that scrying required an activator to accomplish the scryer's intention. A pinch of salt, or drop of ink, oil of a flower, or drop of blood, oh and a thousand combinations, had all been tried. But Isaura found, by using the blue sparkling water drawn directly from Falls, her scrying distance increased a hundredfold. She had Zinjo climb directly into the heart of the Falls - only the giant could manage the feat - to fill several water bags every time they passed this way.

'Be vigilant, Sister! Warn the Arch Duchess! I know not where Blood Burn is nor who this sorceress is who supports him. But I do know this - they will try again.'

She continued her slow steady circular breathing, her soft breath caressing the surface of the glowing water in her black granite scrying bowl.

'How did you learn this? 'di'Sona's image frowned back at her from the bowl. 'Only a select few knew of Blood Burn and the threat he... Ah! You learned it from the girl! Made her confess! Impressive! You must share your technique with me!'

'The girl was not responsible for Shea's death.'

'Nonsense! I saw him murder Shea with my own eyes.'

'You were deceived, little sister.'

'Unlikely, but if so... it is a shame, I suppose.'

Isaura studied her sister's face, and saw not a flicker of remorse.

'Speak truth, little sister, what do you know of this Blood Burn, and she who supports him?'

'Maddening though it is, we know no more than you, Sister…'

Isaura could always tell when her sister was lying, and she lied now.

'...but enough of this. You must come at once and discuss this directly with the Arch Duchess. Where are you scrying from?'

'Sapphire Falls. So I won't be home soon. I will scry again when I learn more.'

'The Falls? Scrying is impossible from that-'

Isaura blew out a strong breath, causing ripples in the water surface, breaking the connection mid-sentence.

"I love doing that to her!"

Isaura left the wagon trailer carrying her bowl with her. She spotted a nearby Manzanita bush, and, with a quick prayer of thanks to Aana, emptied the water at its base.

"Zinjo bounced away; he covered, like ten yards with each stride! I mean, holy smokes, are there many more giants like him in the world?"

"Gods!" Isaura jumped. "You startled me, Ashe! I thought you and Zinjo would still be eating dinner."

"I'm not hungry, and he went to check something out. He told me to tell you."

The sorceress frowned; her scrying had distracted her from guarding against trouble. Or perhaps the revelations of the Cavern. Or the renewed grief from watching her daughter die…

Isaura shook her head of such thoughts, and instantly sent her senses outward to sweep the area. It was a skill she'd been taught by 'Dodore the Mad Wizard' some years ago, who, as she'd learned, wasn't mad at all. Just astonishingly eccentric.

Her sweep found Zinjo, moving quickly; their many years together had attuned her to his aura. But farther away, she sensed a presence. Or rather, presences. A little under a dozen, she guessed. From their aura signatures, she figured they were human and non-magic users.

Zinjo and Isaura had developed into quite a team over the years. He would not attack them, even though he could handle their numbers with ease. No, he would hide and let them pass - he was an amazingly stealthy fellow for one so huge - and only attack from behind should they try to attack Isaura and her wagon. He knew from years of working with her, that she would want to question them, these strangers seeking them out. This meant she needed to prepare, and to have Ashe ready too. She guessed they had twenty minutes before whoever was out there arrived. Isaura turned her attention back to the girl standing before her, smiling at what she saw.

"Not hungry? Why not, Ashe?"

"This," Ashe dramatically swept her hand down her body, every inch a teenage diva, "is something very hard to accept, Isaura. I wonder if my appetite will ever return."

"You poor dear," Isaura said, smiling just a twitch. "Oh, I think you have a little stew left on the side of your mouth, love."

Ashe licked the side of her mouth. "Did I get it?"

"No, the other side," Isaura said, as she tried to suppress a giggle.

"Okay, I had a little stew." When Isaura's only answer was a raised eyebrow, Ashe huffed. "Fine. A lot of stew. So, what is Zinjo scouting about for, do you know?"

"Mmhm. Strangers coming. Ten, by my reckoning."

"Ten? Then we need Zinjo here. Right now. He's coming back, yes?"

"No. He will stay hidden unless he sees we are in danger. People tend to not share information when he is around, since they are so busy running in the opposite direction."

Isaura could read the alarm in Ashe's eyes.

"Wait, you're going to talk to them? Shouldn't we be battening down the hatches and running for it, or hiding or something? They might be robbers or…"

"Battening down the..." Isaura took Ashe's hands into her own. "Listen. I know what you must be thinking - you're scared, yes? Trust me, we don't need Zinjo; I promise you, no harm will come to you."

'Well, no more harm...’

"You think you know what I'm thinking? That's absurd! My whole body has been turned upside down! Some crazy fortune teller shows up at my Master's doorstep, spouting mumbo jumbo, and bam! I'm ordered to go to Imis to look for the Queen of Wands-"

"-Ashe, calm down child…"

"...last thing I remember, I was buying a ticket for a carriage to Imis, and... and... I can only imagine things went as wrong as they could go, because the next thing I know, I'm waking up, weeks later, in the arms of a giant, LIKE THIS! So don't tell me you know what I'm thinking! Hells, I don't even know what I'm thinking!"

"Yes, you're right, dear, I don't know, but... just ...calm ...down."

When Ashe paused to actually breathe, Isaura realized the girl was close to hyperventilating.

"What if these people kill us! Or gods forbid, they kill you, and take me away to... to…"

Isaura knew where Ashe's thoughts were headed, and placed her fingers on the girl's head, to let gentle calming energy into her.

"I'm ...I'm scared, and..." Ashe's voice softened, and her shoulder muscles unwound a little. "...and... feel so ...so…"

Ashe didn't finish the statement, but Isaura heard her vulnerability clearly.

"...and I don't know how you can protect me."

"Ah, but you've never seen me in action. I am Alarian, you know; I have a bit of magic up my sleeve. Now, let's get you ready."

"R-ready? R-ready?" Ashe was too stunned to stammer more.

In contrast, Isaura was a blur of action, plowing into a closet she hadn't touched since word of her daughter's passing came. She whipped a wide bright floral skirt to Ashe's waist.

"Um..." Ashe tried to take a step back, but Isaura grabbed her hands, placing the skirt in them.

"Hold this."

Isaura turned back to the closest, quickly retrieving an equally bright, but non-matching floral patterned silk blouse with flared sleeves. She held that to Ashe's chest.

"How darling."

"No, no, no!"

"Oh yes! You need gold earrings too, to be a true gypsy girl, but we don’t have time to pierce your precious pointy ears, so a few pearl necklaces will have to do. We'll wrap a shawl around your waist, and for Aana's sake let's get those ears covered with a scarf. If it weren't winter you'd have to be barefoot too, but the boots will stay, I guess."

"You're... crazy!"

"Mmhm, I may well be. Now hurry and put those on. And remember to call me ‘Grandmother’ when they are here."

"Grandmother? Seriously? You look barely thirty, if that."

"Aww, thanks. I'm 98, and I will actually look it to them with the glamour I've conjured."

"But I don't see any gl-"

"-You can't, love, glamours don't affect Alarians." Isaura swatted Ashe's behind. "Now move."

4.

Ashe spotted their approach, well before the strangers spied them. Isaura noted the girl's surprise; she was slowly starting to realize her transformation involved more than just a gender change. Her enhanced hearing and sight kicked in.

"They're soldiers!"

"Yes, dear, they are. Can you tell which kind?"

Isaura already knew exactly which kind, but she found herself falling into the same pattern of questioning Ashe that she'd used with Shea in their travels together. Not simply giving her the answers outright, but letting her daughter learn through a series of questions.

"Well, hmmm." Ashe squinted. "They have swords, and many have bows as well, so-"

"No, love, those details don't tell us any more than we already know - that they are soldiers. Focus on that which tells us who they are."

"Oh, sorry, okay." Ashe snuck a quick glance at Isaura before turning her gaze back to the approaching men. It struck her she'd heard just this sort of direction from her professors.

"They wear heavy wool tunics and leggings, as you'd expect from a winter patrol, but they each wear an apron with a picture of a shield on it. Two colored, and halved by a diagonal, the top half gold and the bottom red. In the center is an eagle's head."

"Any guesses as to who they are, then?" Isaura was impressed by Ashe's attention to detail.

"Um, I don't know much about this kind of stuff but... Caphilian?"

"Oh, well done! Yes, they are. The Khedel Empire is a similar color scheme, but with two gryphons facing, and rounded shield bottom."

Ashe squinted again. "No, their shields are pointy-bottomed."

She frowned as she pictured exactly where in the world she was. While it was true they were technically in Caphila, everyone knew where the legendary Falls were, in the small northernmost tip of the country, bordering the Khedel Empire. But it wasn't a place many lived. Rather, it was an arid land of sweeping plateaus and sparse vegetation. It begged a question in her mind.

"Why are they here?"

Isaura smiled and sighed even - she loved the way, and how well, Ashe's mind worked. Though one hearing it might think the girl asked a basic existential one, Isaura had watched her face as she worked through the facts and understood exactly the context: 'These soldiers have no business being this far north at this time of year, so what unusual mission were they on?'

Spot on! Yes, she was beginning to like this girl a lot. No ordinary unit this, either, but a platoon of Caphilian Rangers. This should be interesting indeed.

"Let's go to the stew pot and act like we are cooking," Isaura said.

"Act?" Ashe started walking toward the fire. "It actually needs stirring or the stew will start sticking to the sides."

"Ha! Even better!"

The solders didn't bother with stealth. Seeing only an old woman and a young girl, they marched directly to the campfire, fanning out when they reached it. Ashe stirred the ladle, gripping it hard, while Isaura stood beside her. She tilted her head.

"Was tellin’ me gran'daugh we might be sellin’. Do the pretty Sirs want something to warm their bones?"

The men looked at each other, somewhat confused.

"Ach! Always with the dirty thoughts! I meant sumpin’ to drink. We have-"

"-Silence, hag," a bearded man stepped forward, which Isaura recognized as their captain from the epaulets on his shoulders, "we are here by royal decree, to assess an emergency visitor's tax upon..."
The captain looked around, his displeasure evident from his glare.

"...where is everyone?"

"Beggin’ pardon, Sir," Isaura answered, "everyone who?"

"The throngs of sightseers, the…"

"It's winter," Isaura answered in a low tone, hoping not to embarrass the man in front of his men. "Few travel here now. The last group other than us were Criocans headed south for the harvest".

"Pssst," Ashe gave the lightest of whispers. "You're losing your accent."

And she was. For the briefest of moments, her concentration broke. There was something so familiar with having Ashe by her side. So right. It felt…

'Just like Sheala.'

"Damn it! I told the Commander this was a fool's mission!" The captain's eye blazed; he looked in dire need of having something to kill. "We should be mustering every last man who doesn't have the Wasting, to-

"-Beggin' pardon, cap'n," Isaura asked, struggling back into character, "why did ye come here a seekn' crowds?"

"Are you the only one in Caphilia who hasn't heard? Though a gypsy on the road probably wouldn't. Unnatural plague has come. Fashioned by murderous thieving wizards."

The captain could barely spit his words, so apoplectic was his anger.

"Plague? What kind? By the goddess I pray none have died."

'First Shea was sent to Imis to spread disease among the Alari, and now Caphilia is stricken? It is as Shea said.'

"It struck Glesea, last week; our healers call it the Wasting. Quick as that, more than half the city was stricken."

"And ...death?" Isaura asked.

"No, a mixed blessing that," the captain continued. He seemed in a mood to talk; Isaura had to use little magic to encourage him.

"Though those afflicted barely can move and their bodies ravaged by fevers and chills, few have died, thank the gods. Yet none work, bakers can't bake, fishermen can't fish, farmers can't farm, everything in the city has stopped. Soon after the Wasting came, a single ship arrived in harbor, bearing all black sails, and black flag. A fell emissary, hooded and masked in black, approached our king with a cure. She gave a dose to the king, who was afflicted himself."

"And it worked?"

"It did. And when our king asked for more for our people, the depraved rogue demanded more coin than sits in the Royal Treasury. That's not all; if we failed to pay, if we sought retribution, then she said she would release a second deadly plague, killing all living creatures in Caphilia. All able-bodied soldiers were sent throughout the realm to raise the rest of the ransom, which must be delivered in three days’ time! A more heinous genocidal crime I cannot imagine."

"Is such a thing even possible?" Isaura breathed softly to herself. "A plague that kills all living things?"

"Yes," Ashe whispered back. "Though it's not technically a plague."

Isaura frowned, wondering the depth of Ashe's knowledge of this. First things first; time to deal with the captain and his platoon.

"And so yer sent to rob money from all you see?"

"It's called 'levying a tax', hag. And you know now the why of it." The captain's hand moved to rest on a dagger attached to his belt. "If you say one more word insulting my Rangers, I'll cut out your cursed tongue."

"Let's leave for Glesea now, Cap'n Moris," the solder to the captain's left said. "We'll find better prospects along the way, and hopefully no more shifty gypsy folk."

"Don't be hasty, Private Niall," the bearded soldier to the captain's right crooned, sliding his short sword from its scabbard. He edged closer to where Ashe stood tending the stew, leering at her. "There may be treasure to be found here yet."

The captain frowned as he chewed on the words; the frown turned back to heated rage as the meaning became clear.

"Corporal Fynn, are you suggesting that we, one of the most elite platoons in the Caphilian Army, engage in the crime of human sex trafficking?"

"I see it this way, Sir, our kingdom is under siege, our people suffer, and we must do anything we can to save them. Now this pretty little filly will bring a pot of gold in some, er, auction houses in the dock district."

"Not one more word," Captain Moris growled, "or I'll slap you in irons."

"C'mon, men," Fynn said, placing his sword under the hem of Ashe's skirt. "Shouldn't we at least take a peek? If she's as pretty below as she is above-"

Fynn never finished that sentence. Isaura's blood boiled when she watched the terror play across Ashe's face at what the cretin was proposing. She knew she couldn't shield the girl from all hurt; not even a goddess could. But she had this situation in hand, and it was time Ashe knew it. Isaura chanted:

"llsaana"

Her wand appeared in her hand, and with several brisk flicks, she pointed its tip at the platoon, who...
...stopped all moving, talking or even breathing.

"Step away from the mean man, dear," Isaura said, as she lifted the hem of Ashe's skirt off the corporal's sword. "He's harmless now. They all are; they can't move a twitch nor even blink."

Ashe's eyes shot back and forth over the men, confirming the sorceress' words.

"What did you..." The shock in Ashe's eyes reminded Isaura of an owl, when she turned back to face her. "Are they dead?"

"No, not at all, though they could be, if I left them like this."

"He..." Ashe tilted her head toward the frozen corporal, his lust still locked on his face. "They were going to sell me to... to…"

"No, they weren't," Isaura said, taking the sides of Ashe's face in her hands. "We would never have let them."

"Never een million years," Zinjo's voice boomed as he strode up. "I want show you something, leetle one."

The giant walked through the platoon of stone-still men, without giving them a single glance, as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. And for all Ashe knew of Isaura and Zinjo, it might very well be.

Zinjo pulled a long curved blade from his belt behind his back, and with it, pointed to a thick clump of nearby blackhaw hedges.

"See tops of hedges? Imagine they are heads of pesky soldiers."

The giant hurled the blade with a side arm throw, and it whirled through the air in a wide arc, cutting through the air with a whirling high pitched whine, slicing a long swath of the unruly hedges…

'...like butter,' Ashe thought. She hated it when people overused that saying, but watching Zinjo's blade buzz through the tangled brush as if it wasn't there; it was all she could think of.

In an eye's blink the blade was back in Zinjo's hand, and now, in the wilderness near the falls, the top of a long blackhaw hedge stood neatly trimmed.

"You were here all along?"

"Of course. I was being... how did you say it, witch woman?" Zinjo grinned at Isaura. "...quiet as mouse."

"A very big, huge ginormous massive mouse," Isaura replied, rolling her eyes. "Lucky for us these dolts are practically deaf."

"So what do we do now? Make a run for it or something?" Ashe asked, as she worked up enough courage to approach the captain to examine him. "Can he hear us?"

"No, they can't hear a thing and as for what we do next, we must give them what they came for." Isaura's gaze turned back at the wagon. "Zinjo, would you be so kind as to fetch a bag of our special money from the storage box?"

Ashe stepped away from the captain, her eyes fearful once more; she looked like a skittish doe about to bolt.

"Y-you can't mean, um, letting them-"

"Oh heavens no, child!" She took Ashe's hands in her own, and looked her in her eyes. "I've told you I mean to help you, child. And I'll prove it."

"As vill I, leetle one," Zinjo said, returning with a small bag in hand.

"'kay," Ashe said, the tension in her face relaxing a touch, before she pulled away.

"So you'll wake them and give them gold?" Ashe asked; the clinking sounds and outline of the contents told her the bag the giant held was full of coins. "Then they'll leave us alone?"

"Well, yes, but having them leave us alone is not my main goal." Isaura said. She took the bag, held it in front of Ashe and opened it. "Describe what you see."

As Ashe peered in, Zinjo looked at the sorceress quizically, remembering the countless times in their past when the woman had said those exact four words, in precisely the same tone, to Shea. And the expression on Isaura's face, well, Zinjo had seen so many sides of this powerful and complex woman over their many years together, and the side she showed now, of a mother, was the one he loved best.

"Coins, of course. Gold, lots of it. There's a jumble from all the kingdoms, Caphilian francs, Empire doubloons, even some of your Thyli Alarian talons, it's…"

Isaura almost interrupted Ashe with an 'our talons,' correction, because though the 'why' of her miraculous change was still a mystery, the 'what' was not, she was as Alarian as Isaura. But she decided not to push Ashe too fast.

"...hard to know how much is here, without counting, but..." Ashe hefted the bag slowly. "It weighs just under 25 pounds."

Isaura smiled at that; but of course Aesh the Alquimista would be skilled at weights and measurements.
"Anything else?"

Isaura's smile broadened into a grin; she loved seeing Ashe's mind in action. So sharp and precise. She sent a silent “Thank you” to Aana that after all Ashe endured -bizarre transformation, the sinister Torc, the Memory Cavern- somehow her facilities were all there and humming.

"Well, it glows, but I thought that was obvious."

"Do you see the glow, Zinjo?"

"No, witch woman," the giant grunted, stroking his long silver beard. "Zinjo is lucky to no be afflicted with cursed Alarian senses."

"What he means is, you - we - see more than mortals do," Isaura added, when she saw Ashe's confusion at Zinjo's words. "We are attuned to magic, because we are composed of magic ourselves."

"'I'm ...im-mortal now?" Ashe sounded lost again, stumbling over the concept.'Damn it' Isaura chided herself. 'I just told myself not to push her too fast, and then I turn around and do it.'

"Don't worry about it, Ashe," Isaura tried to sooth. "The 'glow' is a spell I've added and with a device I crafted from a sailor's compass, we can track it. Follow it."

"But why? Why would we want to do that? We need to... to..." Ashe looked stricken. "I mean, shouldn't we seek out healers to heal me, or... or... go to the Academy at Prolriams, and ask those brains to figure out what happened to me, or even go to Ymra's Temple, wherever it is, and beg her to change me back?"

"Ashe... Aesh..." Isaura gently placed her hand on Ashe's cheek. "You are tasked with stopping those who would cast this deadly disease into the Seven Kingdoms, Ailana Crow warned you of this-"

"-wait... wait... how did you know about her?"

"-I know many things, my love. But foremost I believe the path to solving your mystery is bound to finding who is releasing sickness as a weapon on Caphilians, Alarians, or others we haven't heard of yet - your Professor Breviar, and those allied with him. You'll have to trust me."

"Wait, what??? You know of him? You clearly know way more than you've told me. That doesn't inspire trust, Isaura. Give me one good reason to believe you, Isaura."

"Because I am the Queen of Wands."

Ashe's mouth flopped opened as understanding dawned, that - despite everything - she might be still on the path the fortune teller set, still hunting Breviar.

"Now, we have a platoon of frozen men to deal with," Isaura said, gently pushing a finger beneath the girl's chin to close her still open mouth. Then she walked directly in front of Captain Moris, preparing to lay a geas on him.

She paused. Geas were such a basic magic; simple compulsions to either compel one or prevent one from doing something. They were hard to lay on the Alarians, and Isaura wondered if Shea had already been weakened by this fabricated plague when one was laid on her.

Her disgust with her sister for beseeching a goddess to transform Aesh so she could get her rocks off using the Torc hadn't lessened. Instead of di'Sona's bizarre transformation request, she could have simply asked the goddess to heal Aesh, and then compelled him with a geas to tell all. But greater events were at play in the world, the arc of which was starting to take shape:
Someone created a plague, Blood Burn, or Breviar most likely. Two kingdoms she knew of were targeted, and the others probably had been targeted too. Ailana Crow warned of a massive death event. A goddess has directly intervened. And someone both betrayed her daughter and subjected her to geas. di'Sona's sadism remained indefensible, but Isaura was beginning to understand that for some greater purpose, maybe Aesh was meant to be Ashe, and together they were charged with trying to stop whatever calamity was headed for the Seven Kingdoms.

'Let's see where the good captain leads us.'

Isaura placed her thumb on the captain's forehead.

"When you awaken, you will happily accept this gold and leave immediately to deliver it to where you were ordered. And Captain, you will see that your men leave the girl alone. Anything to add, Ashe?"

"Only this."

The young Alarian girl walked to where Corporal Fynn stood frozen. Smiling mischievously, she reached both hands around his waist, and yanked his wool leggings all the way down to his ankles.
"Why look! You're just as ugly below as you are above, you... you..." Aesh bit her lower lip, composing an appropriate curse, "...scruffy-looking dickwhistle piper."

"Oh, ho, ho, ho! Iz best joke yet! Oh, ho, ho, ho!"

Zinjo's laughter could be heard over the roar of the Falls, even as the giant bounded away to hide.
Isaura laughed too, as she chanted the reversal spell to unfreeze the men. She couldn't help it; Aesh was too damn funny. In other circumstances she could see herself growing really fond of this girl. Circumstances where Aesh hadn't been the instrument of Shea's death.

5.

"C'mon! I know you have questions, I can hear them rattling around in your head. Spit them out, Ashe."

Ashe hadn't spoken since the Rangers had taken the gold and left. That wasn't exactly true, because the look on the corporal's face when he realized he was suddenly half-naked made her snicker more than once as they broke camp.

But on the trail, in semi-hot pursuit following the platoon, the girl grew quiet.

"Suit yourself, sweetie, but wrap a blanket around yourself at least."

"Why?”

"We'll follow them well past sundown, I bet, since they are in a hurry to return to Glesea with our gold. It will only get colder and you already have your arms wrapped around yourself."

When Ashe's only response was to blush, it dawned on Isaura what was actually making the girl hold her body so.

"Oh!" Isaura watched the girl when their wagon bounced over another trail bump, "do your breasts need support?"

"Support? Oh! Yes. These...my..." Ashe growled in frustration. "These... are flopping ...from the bumpy road, and they hurt."

"Go back inside," Isaura motioned with her head to the wagon cabin. "In Shea's closet -that's the furthest one - in the drawer at the bottom, look for some fabric bands. Bring one back."

"They'll help?" Ashe asked as she rose, swaying with the movement of the wagon as she walked inside.

"Oh!" Isaura had a thought. "Bring her hand mirror, too."

"A mirror?" Isaura heard the girl rummaging around. "Why? Do you need to signal Zinjo or something?"

"Or something."

When Ashe returned, she held a purple fabric belt, in one hand, and the hand mirror in the other.

"That's it." Isaura said, taking the belt and mirror from her, and handing back the reins in exchange.

"Keep em steady; this will just take a sec."

Isaura moved behind her, and cinched it under her breasts, tying it in back.

"Better? I wear one under my robes, but it can be worn over your blouse, too."

Ashe did a little shimmy with her chest, and relaxed her shoulders a touch.

"Yes. Better. Thanks. What a pain."

She handed the reins back and scooted over in the front seat to make room for Isaura. Once she settled in, Isaura handed the mirror back.

"What am I supposed to do with this? Flash it in the sunlight so Zinjo will-"

"You are supposed to look in it, Ashe."

Ashe slipped the mirror under her thigh.

"Nope."

"Take a peek, please," Isaura asked gently. "It's important for you to at least be aware of how you look-"

"-Those peaks over there are pretty-"

Ashe pointed to the craggy capped range to the southeast. Though their trail still tracked the Aalt River, it no longer carved through the gorge, instead gurgling near the path at ground level.

"-Are they the Brein Slopes? I've heard so much about them, the amazing cattle they-"

"-you can't do this! It's been hours since you awakened in the Cavern, to find this transformation has happened. Yet you won't even-"

"-even what? Admit this has happened? Arrrrgh!"

Ashe pulled off her gypsy cap and crumpled it into a ball. She wanted to punch something, but this would have to do. But when a gust of winter wind rustled through nearby pines before nipping at her eyes, she uncrumpled it and slipped it back on.

"I've let you call me by a different name, agreed to wear these clothes, and am sitting beside you as we chase a glowing bag of gold. That sounds pretty damned accepting to me!"

"But you won't look at yourself, love..."

Isaura shook the reins to encourage the team to keep the pace up. Though Zinjo scouted ahead on his stout Uthain mare Tasha, and wouldn't lose the platoon, they didn't want to let the soldiers get too far ahead of their slower moving wagon.

"...and you barely touch yourself. I have no idea how long you must remain as you are…"

'A beautiful Alarian,' Isaura added mentally, 'on the cusp of womanhood,'

"...but you can't live - for however long that may be - detached from your body. It's-"

"-Why can't I?" Ashe's voice slipped an octave up, sounding very much the teen her body showed.

"Like you said, it's only been hours since I awoke in the cave. Excuse me all to hells if I don't instantly embrace my new womanhood with... with... I don't know... joyous fucking weeping!"

"Joyous fucking weeping?" Isaura asked, doing her very best to hold back a snarky grin. "Really? And what's with all the creative cursing? You've got quite the little mouth on you."

"Don't you dare laugh at me," Ashe said. "And my nickname isn't, er wasn't -arrrgh!- Aesh the Impious for nothing."

"Just look, please?"

"Fine, if it will shut this whole stupid conversation down," Ashe whipped the mirror up and in front of her face. "There. Satisfied? Because... oh!"

Ashe blinked, blinked more, and then blinked again. Her mouth opened and her free hand flew to her cheek.

Isaura read the wonder in Ashe's face; for of all the things Ashe might have expected, to see a flawless Alarian young woman staring back -with smooth peach skintone, the softest hint of blush, pouty red lips and ice blue eyes that - was not one of them.

"I'm... I'm…"

"Beautiful."

"No!" Ashe slapped the mirror under her thigh again. "That's so not me."

"For now, it is. And you must accept it. I worry for what may happen to you, both mentally and physically, if you don't."

Ashe's eyebrow arched; Isaura knew a skeptical look when she saw one.

"Don't believe me? Right now, I bet you have to pee, but have been holding it in because don't want to see your new, um equipment."

"Oh-my-gods! I can't believe you just said that.”

"Well, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, while you were holed up in the wagon, muttering to someone named di'Sona…"

'Of course she could hear that,' Isaura thought, 'she has Alarian hearing too.'

"...I snuck behind a bush and ...went."

"And?"

"And can we please not talk about this anymore? Please? I'm begging you."

"Sure, sweetie, of course."

Isaura smiled, pleased with Ashe's state of mind; as painful as the conversation was for the girl, she showed she was processing her transformation. Isaura was, however, unprepared for the girl's next question.

"Who's Shea?"

"S-Shea? Why do you ask?"

"Her closet. Her clothes. I'm guessing one of those beds is hers. She obviously has traveled with you. I've heard you whisper her name. I was just wondering who she is."

"My daughter."

"No way! You're too young to have a daughter in her teens."

"It's kind of you to say," Isaura said, trying hard to hold back her tears. "But remember, I'm 98 years old."

"Oh, that's right. Is she like 65 or something? You Alarians absolutely slay me with the whole forever lifespan. I thought it was a myth."

"No myth; age will not kill us, though other things do…"

'Like knives through our hearts…'

"... She would have been ten years older now than when she wore the clothes you're wearing."

It was so hard at that moment for Isaura to sit next to the very being who ended her daughter's life and sent her soul to the Summerland. Yes, it wasn't Ashe's fault. Yes, Shea compelled it. Still, it was Ashe's hand that drove the blade in.

"So she's about 26?" Ashe asked, missing the past tense Isaura used. "That's just a few years older than I... it's only a few years older than my old body's age. She'd be good to talk to about all this. Do you think I'll ever get to meet her? I wish she was here now."

The iron bonds Isaura had wrapped around her heart since Shea's death suddenly unspun completely and a tidal wave of anguish grief and bitter tears - held back for so long - swept out.

6.

"Oh! It says here that 84,542 humans live in City of Glesea. Also, 470 elves and almost 5,000 dwarves. And 411 Taverns. That means there must be barrels and barrels of ale."

Ashe tried again to engage Isaura, just as she had the entire previous day, while they kept pace with the Caphilian Rangers, tracking them with the sorceress' strange compass. She even substituted the word 'elves' for Alarians in the text, hoping it would spur Isaura to correct her, but... no response.

Looking up from the atlas, Ashe frowned; with each mile they traveled toward Glesea the fog grew thicker. She forced another smile, trying another approach.

"Did you know fog is formed by a warm moist air mass blowing over a cold surface, which in the summer can happen when the warm air from the land meets a cold ocean. Funny this happening in winter though."

When Isaura mumbled, 'how nice,' Ashe thought 'well, another brilliant idea goes down in flames.'
If she wasn't lost enough, now the one person the fortune teller said could aid her wouldn't speak to her. Ashe even wondered if Isaura's vow to help, so reassuring to her yesterday, had been rescinded. Desperate, she lowered her head back to the atlas to try again.

"Ha! One of the Taverns is called 'Ye Merry Ball and Chain!'" Ashe said, flipping a page. She discovered the atlas when she was rummaging through Isaura's book chest; Aesh's number one vice was his love of books, and that passion hadn't dimmed in the slightest now the he was she. This peculiar atlas seemed unnaturally up to date, even to the extent that she noticed the numbers changing: one moment the nearby town of Barcombe had a population of 400, but when she looked again, it showed 401.

'Isaura's magic.'

"Oh, and Glesea has 300 fishmongers. Something seems very fishy about that."

"Hmm? Oh, that's because it's Caphilia's only port city," Isaura answered, in now familiar vacant tone.

Not even a polite groan at Ashe's awful joke.

She closed the atlas with a soft sigh. She knew she'd hurt Isaura, and deeply, because the woman sobbed for hours after she asked her about Shea. She had absolutely no idea why, though.

After Isaura finally stopped crying and went into the wagon compartment to sleep away a crushing migraine, Ashe drove the wagon by herself, watching the magic compass as they went. That night at their campfire, while Isaura slept, Zinjo resolved some of the mystery. He told her Shea died two months ago. He went further, telling her though Isaura had grieved, and obviously was still grieving, Shea's death was a soul wound for the sorceress that she’d ignored too long.

'Until I opened my big turd wanking mouth.'

The giant said it was heartbreaking when Shea and Isaura become estranged several years ago, and just when he thought they were ready to reconcile last year, communications with Shea went silent. He knew Isaura hadn't truly accepted her daughter's death, and though Ashe's innocent comment was unfortunate, he saw it as pushing the healing process forward.

With every conversation she had with the giant, Ashe's respect for his wisdom grew.
Of course, Ashe still felt horrible. She’d been clueless, so Isaura must have known she meant no ill intent, but even so, Isaura could barely look at her the entire following day.

Also, though Zinjo solved much of the mystery, he replaced it with another, for when she asked how Shea died, he gave her a sad look, shook his head and turned away. She got no further information from him, either.

She opened the atlas once more and poured over the maps of the Seven Kingdoms, looking for the place where Ymra's Temple stood.

'If Isaura - the Queen of Wands as she'd claimed she was - is done with me, then maybe Crow's prophecy has sort of petered out, or I've failed or... or... I don't know what... but I need a plan when they dump me.'

Originally she thought to make her way to Edefia first, but now her reasoning led her to want to travel to Ymra's Temple and beg her to change her back.

'Maybe I could then still track Breviar and…'

"Oh, this is bad."

Isaura's voice startled her, and she looked up from the atlas, to see Zinjo had rejoined them. Isaura had stopped the team, and they stood in front of sign tacked to a tree: Skull and bones with yellow slashes below, the common road sign warning for quarantine.

"I find city gates closed tight," Zinjo said. "Ranger solders entered main gate one hour ago."

"Ashe, let me see that atlas you were reading."

Ashe's eyebrows raised; for all the malaise Isaura had fallen in over the past day and a half, she was action now. She handed Isaura the book.

Let's see, Glesea, Glesea," Isaura flipped through the pages. "Walls, walls, walls...here! Zinj, look!"

"Iz on south side." Zinjo peered over the map with his giant head. "Iz secret entrance."

"Hey, what kind of an atlas is this?" Ashe asked peering at the map showing on the open page. It was a detailed street drawing of Glesea; a small wall section on the south side glowed red.

"Oh, just the 7th Edition of the Atlas of the Seven Kingdoms," Isaura answered. She wiggled the fingers of her right hand and bright sparks popped from them. "I juiced it up a bit."

Isaura frowned, thinking. Then she pulled a coin from her robe.

Cuir a-steach am. Cuir a-steach am.

She handed it to the giant, who flipped the coin once and slipped it in his pocket.

"How long?"

"Eight hours. Should be plenty of time."

"Now fun begins, eh leetle Ashe?" Zinjo moved away from the wagon and bounded into the fog. His voice called back, "do not vorry, we professionals."

"Professionals? Professional what’s?” But Zinjo had already disappeared into the fog. “Hey! Where’s he going?"

"The secret gate we'll enter through needs to be opened from the inside. That's where he's headed."

"Um, even in the fog, Zinjo's going to stand out," Ashe said, biting her lower lip and staring at the place in the thick mist where the giant disappeared. "My first time to see the Serene Sea, and it's covered in this crap!"

'The first time you remember,' Isaura amended internally.

"He'll be fine, I gave him a portable glamour."

"The coin?"

"Mmmhm. I cast a 'nothing to see here' spell on it. When he holds it in his hand, people are - quite literally - compelled to look past him."

"Are you sure it works? I didn't see any difference at all," Ashe said.

"Ah, but that's because you're now - what term did you not so subtly substitute for Alarian in your atlas readings?- an elf ...and we elves are immune to glamours."

"You were listening!"

"I always am, on some level." Isaura shook the reins on the team and then pulled left. They were going to have to travel around the high fortified Glesean walls to reach the hidden gate where Zinjo would meet them.

An awkward silence fell on Ashe; after a day and a half wanting to talk with Isaura, and to beg her forgiveness for whatever she said, she now struggled to voice the words. Instead she looked up at the massive limestone walls that lined the city.

Conceptually, she understood the need for defensive walls. Her history lessons taught her Caphilia, with its agricultural abundance, was a prime target for any other kingdom finding itself in famine times. But the reality was so foreign to her.

"Wow, these walls sure are high."

'Really? That's the best ice breaker I can come up with?'

"There are exactly zero cities in Ogda that have walls like these."

"Oh? Interesting. I've been there a few times over the years but didn't particularly notice the lack of them," Isaura answered. "You were right about something else. Fog rolls in here during summer months, not now. This is unnatural."

"As in magic unnatural?"

"After decades of intense and comprehensive studies," Isaura answered, “I've found that's the only kind of unnatural there is."

“Magic!” Ashe growled in frustration; she longed for the neat clarity of her old alquimista world, where 1+1 equaled 2 and the sun rose in the east and set in the west.

They settled into a long silence as their wagon made progress along the city walls. That silence itself became a weight, much like the fog. There was something unnatural about the silence, too; they heard no sounds coming from the city. Caphilia's capitol city and bustling seaport was as quiet as a cemetery. Not a bird chirp nor even wind sound. All Ashe could hear was the clop, clop of hooves; their team in front, and Zinjo's Uthain mount Tasha trailing behind where she was tethered.

Ashe had to break it. "I-Isaura? I'm... I'm so sorry for hurting you with what I said the other day. About your daughter."

"Don't dwell on it, Ashe," Isaura said, spurring the team on. Much as she wanted to, she shouldn't take her hurt out on the girl. For she knew the truth of it. If anything, she should be begging Ashe's forgiveness, for what she had planned to do to her mind back at the Cavern.

"It wasn't your fault..." Isaura said, snapping the reins again.

The thick fog was making the horses skittish, and Isaura knew they had no time to waste. Her compass showed the platoon was still on the move, working their way through the city to, she guessed, the place where the Caphila army collected the ransom Captain Moris described. Her mind grew distracted by multitudes of questions.

'The entire city is quarantined? What is the nature of the sickness? How widespread is it? How is the ransom delivered, and what antidote do they receive in return?'

"...and...you didn't mean to do it."

"Do it?" Ashe asked, confused now. "Do what?"

"Say it, I meant," ’Damn it!’ Isaura was quick to correct her mistake. "You didn't know my daughter was ... was... you didn't know, so don't worry."

It was the most unconvincing 'I forgive you,' Ashe had ever heard. But what could she do?

It didn't help matters when a ghostly figure appeared at the top of the section of the city wall they were near and wailed, his voice echoing through the eerie mist:

"Flee! Flee! All is pestilence and plague! Soon Lord Reaper will walk our streets, swinging his scythe. Fleeeeeeeeee!!!!"

"What are we doing here?" Ashe whispered, unnerved.

"Aana's work."

"That makes no-"

"-Not everything has to make sense!" Isaura snapped. "Seek knowledge, show compassion. Always. This Aana requires of us. Eventually all falls into place if you do."

"-That is so not a catchy slogan. Who thinks up those things for her? And if you think everything is 'falling into place', you are daft."

"-I see now why Ailana Crow smacked you upside your head."

"-How do you know so much about the reading she gave to-"

"-Hush. We're here."

'Here' didn't look any different than anywhere else along the long city wall to Ashe, but Isaura reined the horses to a stop.

"Hop off and knock on the wall."

Ashe jumped down, and stood next to the wall.

"Here?"

After Isaura nodded, Ashe rapped the stone with her knuckles.

"Ouch."

"Try a little further down." Isaura waved the direction with her hand.

After several more raps and movements down the wall, after Ashe knocked, she heard a knock back.

"I-Isaura??"

"I heard. Stand back." Ashe stepped back a couple of steps, which made Isaura shake her head. "No, waaaaay back."

Not two seconds after Ashe jumped back a few more steps, an entire section of the wall started swinging out. It made a loud scraping noise as it did.

"Quiet as a mouse indeed," Isaura mumbled. "Thank the goddess we have this fog cover at least."

Slipping into the wagon compartment, Isaura emerged with a hooded robe; a smaller version of the one she wore. She handed it to Ashe.

Ashe was quick to slip it on, too. Though the breeches, leggings and heavy tunic she wore would have been enough for a typical winter day, the moisture from the fog chilled her bones, and she welcomed the warmth.

The scraping stopped, and a looming figure stepped out of the fog.

"Shall ve, ladies? I suspect not much time iz left."

Ashe started to take issue with the 'ladies' remark, but a clear 'not now' glare from Isaura made her reconsider. Isaura pulled her tracking compass from her robe and watched as the needle stilled.

"You suspect correctly. They've stopped moving." She climbed back on the wagon front and pocketed the compass before sitting again on the wagon seat.

"And where they've stopped is just about where the treasury building should be according to the atlas. I think..." Isaura took the compass back into her robes, "we have time for a quick detour. I hate running blind."

"Nine Lives?" Zinjo frowned. "That weaselly killer is incapable of telling truth!"

"I know," Isaura smiled. It's what makes him so reliable. Hop on, Ashe, unless you want to wait here and sunbathe. Zinjo, what's the city like?"

"Iz quiet like death." Zinjo went to the front of the horse team, as Ashe scrambled back on the wagon. The giant grabbed Sugarmane's collar, and with a gentle tug, led the team through the open space in the wall.

As the wagon rolled through, Ashe frowned. "I thought when you said secret door you meant like, I don't know, a cleverly disguised wooden door that opens when secret words are spoken."

"Did you? How romantic! I had no idea Aesh the plodding Alquimista read fantasy stories," Isaura said, giggling. "The truth is the occasional less-than-honest work crew will leave something unfinished, like this wall section, which is unpiered, thinking there might be those willing to pay for the knowledge."

"And your atlas tells you these things? Where weaknesses are in every city’s defenses?"

"Yes, but so much more! It tells me any number of helpful facts, even where the best places to get bizzo are!"

"I love a thin crusted bizzo, hot from the oven, covered in tomatoes and cheese," Ashe said, her voice sounding dreamy.

"Mmmm, my favorite, too," Isaura added. “I did once asked the atlas where the best bizzo in the Seven Kingdoms was and highlighted a little town off the southeast tip of the Keoba Dynasty called Kudarala.”

“Seriously?” Ashe asked, licking her lips, “gods I can’t imagine-”

“-AHEM”, Zinjo growled, trying to steer the two women back on track.

"Anyway,” Isaura continued, frowning briefly at the giant, “some might worry that a book like this would be dangerous in the wrong hands. But the world has nothing to worry over; I almost never misuse it."

If Isaura expected Ashe to laugh at her joke she was disappointed; like a serious alquimista, Ashe's attention was already fixed on the massive thickness of the wall section. It would take dozens of men, or teams of horses to move it, yet Zinjo had managed it alone. That meant he, too, must be a creature of magic, to possess such strength. Yet another reminder of the magical world she now swam in.

'I have so much to learn.'
But she didn't frown, though. Whether Aesh or Ashe, one thing was certain, she loved to learn.

Chapter 3
1.

The dock district, Caphilia

"This sucks, sucks, sucks.…"

Alex Nine Lives thwacked a nasty blade into the wooden table he sat at, a move he'd done countless times, evidenced by the deep and numerous gouge marks in the table's surface. The blade was almost clean now, only a small blood smudge showed at the hilt. Muttering some choice words, he peered out his shop window into the fog outside.

'An I liked Mad Dog, too.’

Alex was referring to Mad Dog Drake, who lay dead in the shop's stock room in back. Interesting business, that; Mad Dog came down with the Wasting as had so many others. When he wouldn't leave so Alex wouldn't get it too…

‘Well, couldn't leave, to be fair, he'd been too weak to fart, even,’

...Alex stabbed him in the chest. Even he admitted it wasn't the most well thought out plan. But once he'd done that, all signs of the disease on Mad Dog - the red eyes, the splotchy pale skin - vanished. Now he had a dead body on his hands with an incriminating death-wound.

'Wouldn't be the first time…'

Alex didn't fret over his partner's death too much. No, what burrowed under his skin, worse than a flea he couldn't scratch or a tick he couldn't squeeze, was someone was working an enormous scam on the Caphilian government, and Alex wanted in. He played every angle he could think to, even managing to weasel his way into the confidence of some strange wizards at the Dwarven Bar down at the dock district the other day, before the king closed it and every other business in Glesea down with the stroke of a quill.

'Curfew, he says. Robbing the money right from me pocket, says I.'

Alex thought again of the wizards. He'd had bad luck with the cursed lot, and one female wizard in particular, but he knew these blokes were in on the heist. They were already in his debt; he'd fingered that snooping elf girl to them. And they said they would 'reward him handsomely' if he passed along more tips about anyone fishing about this plague business.

He didn't give two shits about handsome rewards, he wanted his cut of the action.

"I swear to Aana, Nine Lives, you haven't bathed since last time we spoke, what two, three years ago?"
Somehow the one wizard he feared most had materialized in front of him.

"Aieeeee!" Alex would have fallen over backwards if Zinjo, who had crept in the back door, hadn't caught his chair.

"Mistress Isaura?" Alex recognized the Alarian beauty in a flash. In his second flash, he recalled the last time they'd been together, when he’d tried to cheat her.

"So good to see you. About last time... I can explain…"

"Oh, do shut up!" Isaura said, as she and Ashe walked in, Ashe shutting the rickety door behind them. "Are we clear?"

"Iz dead body in back room, Isaura. Iz Mad Dog Drake, I tink. Otherwise good." Zinjo swept the knife off the table in a blur of motion. The blade looked comically small in his huge paw. "Thank you, Nine Lives, Zinjo needed toothpick."

"I'd wash it first, Zinjo," Ashe said.

"I can explain," Alex blurted. "He had the Wasting Plague-"

"-or a Plague of Knives. Maybe just leetle plague - one in chest?" Zinjo said, twirling the blade with a dexterity unexpected for such a huge hand. Then he sighed. "I always liked Mad Dog, except when he'z mouth foamed."

"Shea?" Alex looked at Ashe, who stood just behind Isaura. She hadn't pulled back her hood as the sorceress had, but the con man could see her face. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon... I hope you remember how much I helped and will tell your mum that... hey, didn't you tell me you and she split a few years ago? It so warms this old heart to see you've made up."

'Shea was here?' Isaura thought.

"Oh no," Ashe started to say, "I'm not -"

"Hush, sweet," Isaura interrupted. She wasn't sure whether Ashe's next words would have been 'her daughter' or 'a woman' but she didn't want Alex's error corrected just yet. There was information to be learned. "Let me talk with Mr. Nine Lives. He needs to be handled just so."

"-You're a piece of work, Alex," Isaura continued, giving Alex the stare she knew made him squirm. "I need information. Help me, and I’ll forget about how you tried to sell me a bogus Tome of Solitude."

"I swear I didn't know. They..." Alex broke into a sweat, and not from the plague. "They tricked me too! That's it!"

"You poor man. So misunderstood." Isaura turned to Ashe and motioned her head to toward another wooden chair near some stock selves, "Go sit, Shea, this may take a while."

Isaura watched Ashe blink only once in confusion, before understanding lit her eyes. She walked to the chair to sit, saying only:

"Yes, mother."
Those words almost undid the sorceress.

Maybe the resemblance snuck up on her, for when she took her from di'Sona, her face was gaunt and hair cut short. But now... and her voice too, though slightly higher, reminded her so much of her daughter's. There was something so familiar about her.

'Keep it together. Keep. It. Together.'

"Now, my good friend, Zinjo and I are going to ask you some questions about this 'cure' sold to King Alfan. If you are helpful, I'd be willing to forget the Tome unpleasantness."

"And if I don't?"

A huge hand grasp his shoulder. He felt the incredible strength in it - the grip was like iron! - and Alex was certain Zinjo could snap his shoulder blade with little effort.

"If Alex doesn't answer, then, sad to say he's not Zinjo's friend. You do vant be my friend, yes?"

"Yes! I do, I do!"

Alex slipped his hand in his pocket and crushed a small disk his new wizard friends had given him. They said it would alert them and they would find him as quickly as they could.

"Oh goody, what a relief," the sorceress said, trying hard and almost succeeding in keeping her snarky grin contained.

"Tell all you can of this plague and the people who sell its cure, Alex," Isaura started rattling off questions in rapid succession:

"When did it first appear? Who are the people who sell the cure? When and how do they come to collect the ransom? Have you met them?...”

Alex mumbled such answers as he could:

"the Wasting started two weeks ago, spread like wildfire, the ship of black sails arrived 10 days ago, to give the fat king his cure and to demand the ransom. They said they'd come again with the rest of the cure tomorrow night…"

Yet with each answer, he cast a nervous glance to the shop entrance. It wasn't lost on Isaura; summoning discs were basic wizards' fare, and she sensed the moment Alex activated his. She hoped whoever was coming would arrive soon, she was fast running out of questions for this idiot not to know the answers to.

With an explosive blast, three robed and hooded figures burst through the shop door. Their robes were floor length and black, and even though hooded, they further had wrapped black scarves around their faces.

"She's been asking questions about the plague an who you are!" Alex squealed, "and about our operation and so I broke your disc just as you asked-"

"Shut up, scum! Or I'll shut you up permanently!" the middle wizard shouted. The three scanned the room to take inventory of who they faced.

"But she's a wizard just like you, and the giant is-"

"I warned you."

An energy bolt flew from the wand of the wizard who had spoken, hitting Alex in his chest, leaving a gaping -and messy- hole where it had been. Alex, or what was left of him, slumped over.

"So ends the life of Alex Nine Lives, who from the look of things, was down to his last life," Isaura said, standing to face the three.

"Not a nice way to go, even for one as nasty as Alex," Isaura whispered to Zinjo. "A shame, really, he was my best informant in Glesea."

"But every word out of his mouth was a lie," Zinjo whispered back, as he too rose to face the trio.

"Yes, but that's why he was so valuable; I could count on him to lie."

"Shut up, or you'll get the same."

"Oh, I think not," Isaura replied, her wand somehow in her hand, too, which was pointed at the wizards.

The wizard to the right of the one who'd blasted Alex stepped forward, and pointed to an amulet draped from his neck.

"Whatever pitiful magic you may possess is useless, witch, for this is the Amulet of Binding. It has neutralized your powers already."

"Now, on pain of death, who are you and why do you seek to know about the plague?"

"On pain of death? Yes! Let us talk of that pain." Sparks flew from Isaura's wand but fizzled in front of it and then faded quickly with soft popping.

"Hey! What's wrong? My powers! I can't..." She tried to look alarmed, but soon a giggle burst from her lips. "I try so hard, but I can't keep a straight face!"

"Iz why you lose to me in cards every time."

"You won't be laughing when I-" the middle wizard never finished that sentence, for a solid energy stream shot from Isaura's wand, split into three beams, and wrapped around the waists of the wizards. With the flick of her wrist, she slammed them into a shop wall with a splintering crunch.

"Goddess! I hope you didn't spend too much on your 'Amulet of Binding.' Are we good?" The sorceress glanced at Zinjo, and then Ashe, who looked three shades paler. Her eyes were fixed on the gruesome mess that used to be Alex Nine Lives. "Close your eyes and take a breath, sweetie."

"I... I think I'm going to... to..." Ashe stood, wobbled a little, and ran to the stock room.

"No! Don't go back! Iz filled with..." Zinjo shouted, trying to warn Ashe, but she moved too fast to heed it. After she screamed, he mumbled the rest of the warning, "...other dead body."

Zinjo rushed back too when he heard her retching.

Isaura turned back to the three wizards, who were squirming futiley in their energy bands.

"I am very angry with you. Do not displease me further. Answer each of my questions, or..." with another wrist flick, the bands circling the wizards' waists cinched further, making them groan. "...you'll have the unique pleasure of feeling your stomachs shooting out of your mouths."

"I don't know who you are, witch," the first wizard said, "but you'll have no answers from us. A sorceress far more powerful than you has placed us under a geas of loyalty. You'd be wise to let us go."

"Ah! That's helpful."

And it was; she knew she now needed to take a different approach with this trio. Isaura lowered and pocketed her wand, extinguishing the beams. The constriction bands around their arms and waists remained. Isaura pressed her thumb against their foreheads one by one. "And speaking of being helpful…"

"W-what did you do?" the second wizard asked, shaking his head as if he had something stuck to it.

"Why nothing at all," except to apply a geas of my own, to encourage helpfulness and obedience.
"Please, tell me your names."

"D-d-d-don't do it," the third wizard said; pain crossing his face as the two geas clashed, "t-t-t-t-t-tell her nothing!"

"Oh, come now," Isaura said smiling, her voice full of sweetness. "It would be disloyal of you not to. If I don't know your names, how can I tell your mistress how loyal you've been if I see her?"

'T-t-t-that's... true..." The pain in the man's face eased as Isaura's powerful geas managed to burrow under the prior geas. "I-I'm Hupan."

"Uyus," said a second.

"Eqor," offered the third.

"Good lads," Isaura clapped her hands and smiled.

The wizards smiled too, or grinned rather stupidly would be a better description. Isaura's 'helpful and obedient' geas rewarded the spelled person with a feeling of pleasure when he or she answered in a way that drew her praise. She never understood why others used torture to illicit information. First, it was morally reprehensible, and counter to Aana's teachings. And second, it was ineffective.

‘Carrots are so much better than sticks.’

Many, many years ago, when she was an Alarian teen, Isaura ran away from her family's duchy in Beurl'Aana, to escape her older sister's constant cruelty, and her parents even crueler indifference. If she stayed, she would have murdered Elasha. Instead, she and enrolled in the School of Sorcery at Grarinns. And by happy chance, she studied geases under the wizard Eijolore, a true master of the form.

"Oh my, they all sound like good honest Yaran names. Are you from the States of Yara?"

"We are," Eqor answered, and proudly. Nothing disloyal about saying that.

"Oh how wonderful!" Isaura smiled, and the wizards did too. "And wouldn't it be ever so helpful for us all to forget about our fighting? I would be so very pleased if you would. Only remember you zapped Mr. Nine Lives because he was going to blurt out information about her. He was so disloyal."

The men believed that too. Their eyes glazed and they looked confused for a moment. With another flick of her wrist, the energy bands around the men vanished.

Ashe and Zinjo returned from the stock room then; the girl had regained most of her coloring. She took care to not look at Alex's body. Zinjo picked up the body by the rope belt Alex wore and carried it back into the stock room. Isaura figured he would lay it next to Mad Dog's body; business partners reunited.

"What the hells are you doing back here, Shyilia?" Uyus said, frowning at Ashe. "You should be with ...her."

Uyus's eyes widened, and he shot a worried glance - 'have I said too much?' - at Hupan and Eqor.

For that was the way a geas worked, it operated on the spelled person's belief. If a person under a loyalty geas believed he was being disloyal, the geas activated and struck, stopping the person's heart. Even if the person was wrong, it was what he believed that mattered. Isaura's mind raced with possibilities; there were ways around the geas of this mysterious 'her'.

She paused though, something tickled at the back of her brain - yet again Ashe was mistaken for Shea, because the 'Shyilia' they referred to could be no one other than her Shea. It was one of her daughter's favorite 'gypsy disguise' names she used when they traveled together.

Oh Shea!

Isaura looked at Ashe closely. She supposed the reoccurring mistaken identity was partly due to the fact that humans tended to think all 'elves' looked alike, so mistaking one young 'elf girl' for another wasn't surprising. Yet, more and more, even Isaura had to admit Ashe did resemble the way her Sheala looked in her teens. Smaller by a few inches, and slightly curvier, too, but her face... her eyes...
Isaura gave herself a mental jolt -

'Now is not the time to explore this!'

In thinking about it, she doubted these 'wizards' actually caught her daughter. More likely Shea let herself be captured to further her mission; she didn't think herself to be in true danger, and letting these fools deliver her to their mistress was just what she wanted.

"She should be indeed," Isaura improvised, sounding angry, but giving Ashe a glance which she hoped the girl read right. Ashe was proving to be so keen she expected her to.

Ashe blinked again, but only once, and then gave a quick nod.

"P-please don't send me back, good Sirs. I beg you!"

'Not a horrible piece of improvisation at all,' Isaura thought proudly, 'considering all she'd been through in the past days, and only moments ago witnessing a brutal killing.'

Zinjo grasped Isaura's improvisation too, and acted his part. He moved behind Ashe and grabbed her shoulders, as if to hold her in place.

"Not another word from you," Isaura snapped at Ashe. "I see now we are on the same side. It is unfortunate Mr. Nine Lives mistakenly summoned you here. He panicked when the spy returned. But his loose lips were a liability for sure. You served her well by killing him…"

The wizards smiled again at that.

"...and she... most definitely wants this traitorous spy back. I would be so very pleased if you would help me serve her. How do we return her as quickly as possible?"

The two geases now worked together, as Isaura hoped; to the wizards, it now seemed to them that helping Isaura was being loyal to their mistress.

"The Havock arrives tomorrow to deliver the antidote serum, if King Alfan has the ransom," Hupan said, straightening his robe. "We could deliver her bound to Captain Angove. Tell him to see her taken directly to our mistress."

"Angrove?" Isaura had heard of him, a well-known pirate and rogue. "When did she hire him? Last I heard he bedeviled the merchant ships of Khedel Empire."

"She only hires the best," Eqor said, smiling, because saying that surely must be loyal. And it reflected well on them too.

"Which dock should I deliver the traitor to?" Isaura asked.

"Pier 3, though The Havock will be easy enough to find," Eqor answered. Isaura was pretty certain by now he was the leader. "It will be the only one there. All other vessels have fled the harbor for fear of the plague and several dropped warning buoys at the harbor's mouth."

'That could be a problem,' Isaura thought.

She needed one more piece of information, before she sent these murderous idiots on their way: The Havock's destination.

Isaura was certain asking directly would activate the loyalty geas in opposition again. Also, if these low level hacks were spelled, she fully expected all others involved in this deadly blackmail scheme - for that's what it was looking like to Isaura at this point - would be under similar geas. Whih meant the crew and Captain Angrove wouldn't provide the destination port for the ransom either.

So instead of asking where the ship was going, Isaura decided to learn the next best thing.

'Wizard Eqor, it is important the spy be taken to her as quickly as possible." Isaura swung her head one way, then the other, pretending to see if others were present. She whispered, "Do not tell me the name of The Havock's next port of call. There may be more spies hidden nearby.”

The wizards nodded; that made sense.

"Merely let me know where The Havock's stop is in the ransom collection. If it is bound for other kingdoms before returning to her, then I will arrange a faster way to return the spy."

Eqor blinked several times. What this female wizard asked didn't seem disloyal at all, and he did want to help her so very much.

"This will be The Havock's last stop before returning to her, having traveled already to the other six kingdoms."

'Ransom from ALL the kingdoms? Holy Aana!' Isaura thought. 'After its stop here, I bet The Havock will be laden with the biggest treasure in the history of the Seven Kingdoms! And it's in the hands of a notorious pirate. I hope whoever 'she' is has placed Angove under one pretty damn strong geas!'

"Gentlemen, I have one more favor to ask," Isaura beckoned. The three shuffled to her quickly, eager to do whatever she asked. When they were close, she whispered:

Ilsana

Isaura muttered "idiots" at the now frozen men, and walked to Zinjo and Ashe.

"Thoughts?"

"Iz your plan to chase The Havock over the sea?" Zinjo asked.

"I touched their geas, and whoever spelled them is powerful. I got as much from them as possible. 'Follow the money' is still the plan. The trail just got wetter."

"Getting ship iz going to be hard. You heard them say all ships gone."

"Yes," Isaura answered, "but there's always Plan B."

"Oh no!" Zinjo blanched. "Iz bad plan. I work extra hard on Plan A."

"Oh ye of little faith," Isaura said. She turned to Ashe. "You doing okay, sweetie? You're awfully quiet."

"I'm not sure," she answered, her voice quivering. "I've never seen someone killed before, and to see it happen like that…"

'Oh, but you have seen someone killed, Ashe, right beneath your eyes…'

"It's... I believe... I mean, life, all life, is sacred, and..." Ashe's gaze wandered first to the bloody mess at Alex's table, then to the door to the room that held two dead bodies. "Do you see this in your, um, business all the time?"

"See what, sweetie?"

"Life, thrown away, like... trash." She looked at Isaura, and then Zinjo, her eyes, pleading. "Do you do this too? Will you ...kill these men?"

"No, Ashe, we won't," Zinjo answered. "Though some might say they deserve death, iz not what we do. Will let them go…"

'Truth,' Isaura thought. She wished she could convince the girl that Zinjo and she, too, revered life. But words wouldn't do; Ashe would have to learn that fact from watching their actions.

Still, the girl was shaken, and Isaura needed her to not fall apart now, as they moved closer toward the true actors in this conflict. To her mind, more and more, all pointed toward Ashe having a pivotal role in its resolution.

"I could lay a gentle geas on you to make you lessen the memory, or even to completely forget it if you wish."

"No!" Ashe shook her head, almost in anger. Then her voice gentled. "No. I believe that when you boil it down, we are the sum of our memories, good and bad. I would not give up even this one."

Isaura and Zinjo exchanged worried looks, but before either could think of something to say, Ashe spoke again.

"Something else is bothering me. Well, something other than three human statues standing in front of me." Ashe shook her head, stood, and doing her best to ignore the frozen wizards, started pacing. "Something isn't right... this 'Wasting Plague'…"

"...I get that it incapacitates, or can incapacitate, an entire kingdom. But once they use the antidote, what's to stop the armies of a kingdom chasing down whoever created it and getting revenge?"

"Whoever iz doing must have insurance," Zinjo said. "Something to ensure kingdom that pays for antidote won't send army next day."

"Yes! And someone who has the knowledge to craft it," Ashe said, excitedly, "would also know how to make something far more deadly."

"How deadly?" Isaura asked, turning a touch pale herself. For she feared Ashe's intuition was spot on.

"Like ‘kill every living thing’ deadly," Ashe whispered.

"That," Zinjo whispered back, "iz good insurance."

"You know of one who could?" Isaura asked. "Is it Blood Burn? I mean, the one you call Breviar?"

"Breviar could, yes," Ashe answered softly. Thinking of the deaths she'd just seen reminded her of other, greater deaths in her past. To imagine that extending to everyone and everything was too much to bear.

"We three must have a lengthy talk about this man." She turned to Zinjo. "How long do you need to try to hire a ship?"

"Two hours? No more needed. I vill learn soon enough if all ships gone. Still have a few hours left on glamour. Meet you at Celemiril for dinner?"

After she nodded, Zinjo bowed to the two of them and bounded out the shop entrance.

"Celemiril?" Ashe stammered.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I own tiny little places here and there across the kingdoms. I love traveling about with my wagon, but every so often I need a hot bath, an exquisite meal, and a down bed you can melt into. Now is one of those times, and Celemiril is one of those tiny places.

"Bath?"

"Yes! You're going to love it."

"Wait... me?"

"And Zinjo too."

"Together?"

Isaura burst into laughter. Ashe no doubt didn't appreciate it, but Isaura loved her reactions. They were so unfiltered and precious! After her laughter subsided, she walked to the frozen men.

"I need to wipe this entire encounter from the Fearsome Trio's minds. They must report in soon, and I don't want anyone alerted to our presence."

As she placed her thumb on each of their foreheads, she giggled.

"Together...hehehe... you are too funny, Ashe. Let's go and see, shall we? "

***

Isaura's 'tiny little house' in Glesea turned out to be a sprawling block-long whitestone building, filled with a dozen or more rooms - bedrooms, dining hall, kitchen, living room, walls painted with mosaics of the forests of Alari. And libraries. Many libraries. The rooms were all built around an inner courtyard which was a large lush and blooming garden, even in winter. Because underneath the garden bubbled a hot spring, forming a bathing pool and keeping the air greenhouse steamy.

Isaura and Ashe had waited only a moment at the massive wooden gate of the 'tiny little house', when a side window opened. The head of a little red-capped man poked through - Ashe was certain she saw a green hair tuft sticking out from under the cap - and the little man gave a soft whistle.

"Mistress Isaura! An... Mistress Sheala! This is a singularly superlative surprise!"

The gate swung open.

"Will the mistresses be staying long?" the little man looked hopeful.

"I wish we were staying longer, Peppenet, to enjoy your excellent hospitality. But alas, only this night."

Peppenet was crestfallen, but put on a bold face. "We cherish every moment we have with you, m'lady. Will Tiny be joining us this evening too?"

"Yes he will, Peppenet."

Isaura started to give the team a shake of the reins to move them to the stables, but the lead mare Sugarmane was well ahead of her, pulling forward, sensing a warm bed of hay, a scrumptious rub down, and sugar cube treats ahead.

Ashe's mouth dropped open. "Are they-"

"-Shhhh." Isaura clamped her hand over Ashe's mouth, and whispered, "do not call them gnomes. They are more offended by that than we are when humans call us elves. They prefer 'Fefnoir.'"

"But I thought the gn- er, Fefnoir were extinct."

"Sadly, they almost were," Isaura answered. "I give all those remaining sanctuary at my properties, and in return, they keep my places for me."

"Who's Tiny?"

"Oh, that's what they call Zinjo," Isaura chuckled. "They adore him."

A pack of diminutive Fefnoirs - the tallest being no more than three feet high - sprang into action at the stables, using a series of hanging ropes to swing from, and rope baskets lowered from the barn rafters to tend to the horses. Ashe was astonished at how quickly the tack was removed and stored. Then one or two Fefnoirs hopped onto each of the horses' backs, doing what appeared to be at first glance to Ashe a kind of clog dance. Only instead of clogs, the little men and women wore wire brushes on their feet. When she heard several of the horses neigh with pleasure, it occurred to her this was the Fefnoirs' way of giving the horses a soothing rubdown.

Isaura took Ashe by her arm and led her to the mansion's front door, where another army of Fefnoirs - the house staff – waited.

"Welcome to Celemiril Manor, Ashe. You have but one task in the hours we have here... to rest. Goddess knows you deserve one."

As they neared the door, a female Fefnoir stepped in front of the others and curtsied. She wore a cream long-sleeved blouse and spring green floor length skirt. Green, long layered hair framed a round warm face with gentle hazel eyes. Ashe liked her instantly.

"Piproos! How wonderful to see you again!" Isaura knelt to hug the tiny woman.

"Greetings, Mistress Isaura and Mistress Sheala," Piproos said, after she embraced Isaura. "I am-"
Piproos stopped mid-sentence to stare at Ashe.

"I see Peppenet was mistaken, the scoundrel. You are not Mistress Shea. If not for the ears, I would swear you are her twin."

"Ears?" Ashe whispered to Isaura, her hand straying to touch the point of one.

"Our ears stick out when we are young, and flatten to our heads as we enter our tweens. Yours are still adorable."

Isaura wasn't sure what the girl's hushed mutter that followed was word-for-word, but she was pretty sure it contained the phrase 'got your adorable right here...' Chuckling, the sorceress turned back to address Piproos.

"*Ahem* They are often mistaken for each other," Isaura said, "This is, um, Ashera Faeyra, my ...other daughter. She's been cloistered away at school for these past many years."

Isaura hated not being truthful with her beloved servant, but telling the truth meant explaining how Aesh became Ashe. She wasn't sure there were enough hours left in the day to do that.

It also meant telling Piproos about Shea's death. Piproos loved her daughter deeply, and the news would send all the Fefnoirs in the manor into mourning.

'That... needs to happen, and will. It will,' Isaura thought, but her will to do it wasn't there. 'But not tonight. Not tonight. Tonight I want Ashe to relax and enjoy. She needs it. For tomorrow the chase begins in earnest.'

"Mistress Isaura is often full of surprises, though this is a splendid one." Piproos curtsied again. "I welcome you to Celemiril Manor, Mistress Ashera. It will be my pleasure, and the pleasure of all Fefnoirs, to serve your every wish."

"Thanks, I..." Ashe was at a loss for words. No one had ever said such a thing to her. There was something she wanted to do, though; Piproos' warmth made her desire it. She knelt as Isaura had.

"May I ...hug you?"

"Of course, love," the diminutive woman said, throwing her arms around Ashe's neck. "I would be offended if you didn't."

When Ashe stood, Isaura leaned over and whispered in Piproos’ ear, who turned to the young Fefnoir girl beside her to whisper in her ear. She in turn giggled and took Ashe by her hand.

"I'm Pikwel!" the young Fefnoir said brightly, "You are to follow me, Mistress Ashera. I'll take you to your room and prepare you for your bath."

"I really don't think I..I need a ba-"

"-don't you dare refuse Pikwel's help. It would be an insult, and she would be disgraced," Isaura said. "You will let her serve you."

"Um, it seems I'm to do whatever you say, Pikwel," Ashe said, looking at Isaura to see how serious she was. Even from the short time she'd known the sorceress, Ashe could read her expression; it was very serious.

"Oh don't say that, Mistress Ashera," Pikwel answered, giggling and tugging her into the manor. "I can think of some pretty silly things to say. You are too funny."

"Yeah, guess I am," Ashe said, casting a look back to Isaura as the tiny girl dragged her to her bedroom. Seeing the bemused look on her face almost made her stick out her tongue.

"It seems like lately I'm just fucking hilarious."

***

"W-what am I supposed to do now, Pikwel?"

Ashe and Pikwel first visited Ashe's assigned bedroom, which was the most extravagant bedroom the girl had ever seen. At least from what she'd seen of it - Pikwel whisked her in and out before she could fully explore it. Because, as the diminutive woman had cheerfully piped:

"Bath time. You stink"

Rich-hued tapestries draped from the bedroom walls, depicting various 'fairy life' scenes, such as a herd of unicorns in a forest clearing, or fairies dancing in a circle on a green hilltop, with a full moon shining above. The canopy bed in the center was massive, and even looking at the overstuffed feather mattress made her sigh. Above it hung a canopy of rich green silk.

Next, Pikwel grudgingly allowed Ashe a brief but most welcome stop in a private commode - it had actual running water! Ashe, when she was Aesh and was attending Edefia University, had seen an exhibit in a museum about 'The Future of Plumbing' - she had been really bored one weekend, obviously - but never dreamed she'd try one. After days on the winter trail of squatting behind bushes, she was so appreciative.

Pikwel hadn't let her linger, but with drill sergeant efficiency, ordered her to strip, gave her a semi-transparent white robe and slippers to wear, and marched her through the Celemiril hallways to the manor's inner garden.

Ashe now stood before a steamy hot pool. A massive one. She was stunned.

“What do I do, um, now?”

"You get in, silly," Pikwel giggled and held up her hand. "It's called a bath. Now gimme."

The little gnome clearly expected her to hand over her ‘barely there’ robe. She would have been mortified as Aesh to be naked in public. Being Ashe made it easier in a backwards way - she gritted her teeth, stepped out of her slippers, and handed Pikwel her robe. All the while thinking:

'Not my body, not my body…'

She jumped in with a splash, making sure some water landed on Pikwel, who squealed with laughter.
The hot spring water stung at first, but her body adjusted quickly, and once it did…

'heaven'

Days of confusion on an almost mythic scale, constant worry, and yes, terror, from awakening in a cave, in a strange body, surrounded by strangers, melted away and were forgotten for a moment.

She floated on her back, gazing at the ceiling. Gold leaf stars against a deep blue background twinkled down, forming constellations she couldn't name. Looking more closely, she saw the roof was actually made up of many shutters. It confused her at first, until she figured it out-

'It opens!'

After floating for several more minutes without a thought in her head, Ashe managed to glance around at her 'bath', which looked less 'bath' and more 'indoor lake' to her. Lush vegetation, in summer green shades, filled a ballroom-sized enclosure. Swirls of steam rose from the water, forming dewy drops on the petals of exotic flowers sprinkled about here and there - hues of violets, deep blues, and rich velvet purples.

In the center of the pool she saw a small mini-island, and at the center of that stood a white marble statue, of a woman, wearing a toga draped over one breast, leaving the other naked. In her hand a cup. Upon her face, a smile of infinite mercy.

'The goddess Aana.'

As Aesh, she had never paid much attention to 'the gods'. They often seemed fickle to her, and some were downright cruel. So she placed her belief in alquimista studies, something she could understand, and touch, and trust.

But looking into the serene face of the goddess, Ashe toyed with the idea of praying to her, to beg her to change her body back.

'But that's stupid, since Isaura said Ymra did this to me.'

For fun, Ashe raised her leg the way she'd seen a female water dancer do at a water circus she'd seen as a child. She never tried it as Aesh, but as Ashe she wanted to see if she could. She raised her leg and pointed her toes to the ceiling.

'Heh! I can and, oh... wow…'

She couldn't help it, her leg - well, the leg that was hers for now - was smooth, toned, and glistened with wetness.

'Oh hells, that's sexy.'

As she stared at it longer, she started feeling other sensations, a tingling and hardening in her nipples.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you are getting turned on by your own body, Ashe."

"Ack!!!!"

Ashe spluttered and flailed about for a moment, even taking in water and coughing. She stood up in the waste deep water and turned to face Isaura. Who was also naked.

"Don't do that!" Ashe said, first glaring at, and then turning her eyes away from, the naked woman. Because – damn it! - she was stunning. Everything about the woman was alluring: teardrop breasts, curvy hips and heart-shaped butt, all misted in steam. For the first time since her awakening in the cavern, Ashe was glad she wasn't Aesh, because he would have been sporting the hardest erection ever.

"How long have you been there?" Ashe asked, covering her own breasts.

"Long enough. And I'd heard of the famed Ogdan prudishness, but I didn't expect it from you, especially with that foul mouth of yours."

"Fuck off, wanking shit sniffer," Ashe muttered under her breath, but did lower her hands to her side.

"Wanking what? Hahaha! Oh my goddess, you're wonderful! Try to remember, though, that I - as you - have Alarian hearing; I can hear every whispered mutter you make." Isaura took Ashe into her arms in a playful hug. "Now, let's finish our bath so we can have dinner. Piproos is preparing a feast."

"Finish? What's left? I feel cleaner than I have since...ever."

She did; the minerals in the water made her skin feel soft and supple in a way she'd never felt in her life.

"You haven't truly bathed until you've had a troop of Fefnoirs shampoo your hair and rub you down from head to toe with yang ling oil."

"You're ...serious?"

"Yes I am," Isaura said, laughing, and grabbing Ashe's hand. She pulled her toward a grotto where a dozen of the tiny Fefnoirs waited. They waved and cheered.

"You'd better hurry if you want to be done before Zinjo takes his bath. He'll be here soon, and naked, too. He draws quite a crowd of female Fefnoirs. It's a sight to see, actually."

"Why do they-"

Then it occurred to Ashe exactly why a troop of female Fefnoirs would want to see a naked giant.

"Oh gods! Let's hurry."

***

When Ashe returned to her bedroom, Pikwel was nowhere to be found.

"With the other Fefnoir girls, watching the Zinjo bathing show, I bet."

Ashe tried not picture it - the impish frolicsome gnome girls dancing around the naked giant as if he was the fertility god Odar. She wasn't sure if the image should offend her Ogdian morals, but it did make her giggle.

The clothing items the little Fefnoir had set out for her were easily found. Ashe held the gown up to her body.

"Seriously?"

She turned to look at her image in the full length mirror which stood near the vanity.

"Wait, mirror?" Ashe was almost certain it hadn't been in the room earlier. "Ugh! Curse Isaura and her nutsack wiping mirrors!"

"Still... with no one here but me…"

Ashe looked around to make sure there weren't any gnomes hidden about. Satisfied, she stepped before the mirror, and let her robe fall to the floor.

Ashe stood before it, looking at the young elf girl who stared back, first turning this way, then that.

Then she grew somber, and stared at her image.

"I've got to accept this, for now," she reasoned with herself. She wagged a finger at her image. "I don't see any way I'll be changed back soon, so suck it up! I'm part of a team, sort of, and I'm pretty sure Isaura and Zinjo share the same goal, to stop Breviar and those aiding him from unleashing hell on the Seven Kingdoms."

"So, I can't be all mixed up over who I am if I hope to help," Ashe said to the mirrored image, who mouthed the exact same words. "I'm going to stand here until you and I aren't strangers."

She stood that way for many long, silent minutes.

 

Until finally, softly, "This is me?"

Tentatively, she made a funny face, blowing her cheeks up like balloons. Then more, owl eyes, fish lips, sticking her tongue out. She giggled, spluttered, laughed.

Ashe stepped back a step; her hair had dried, and she ran her fingers through her silky black strands.

"So soft."

Her fingers traveled down from her hair, across her cheeks down the curve of her neck and then stopping on her right breast. Her fingertip circled her areola and nipple. Her eyes widened in wonder as goosebumps appeared and her nipple hardened. Her lips parted slightly and a soft "oh" escaped her lips.

Suddenly, she was no longer afraid, but curious; her fingers wanted to travel further, explore lower. She felt herself growing wet and tingly. And she knew exactly what was tingling too...
"my ... clit…"

...for anatomy had been one Aesh's best subjects at Edefia.

She sighed, in frustration this time, for she knew she needed to dress and hurry to dinner. She eyed the gown and heels again that Pikwel had left for her.

"I can do this."

Ashe started to dress but paused, looking at her image once more.

"This is me."

***

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, because I do."

Ashe scooted up to the dark oaken dining table in the seat opposite Isaura. Chandeliers filled with unlit candles hung overhead, and a massive centerpiece of exotic flowers from the inner garden had been placed in the table's center.

"You've found me out!" Isaura said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Er, which thing is it am I doing exactly?"

"You're not-so-subtle encouragements to 'explore' this, er, my ...new body."

"And how am I implementing this evil plan of mine?"

"Hmm, where to begin... the naked bath with sensuous oil massage…"

'Which,' Ashe admitted to herself, 'was heavenly.'

She'd wondered at the intense sensations that overloaded her mind and body. What accentuated it? Her new physique? Or had she just never taken the time to indulge her body as Aesh?

"...the full-length mirror you had Pikwel wheel in to my room…"

Ashe blushed in the remembering.

"...or maybe this little ‘see through’ number?"

She motioned to her spring green diaphanous gown. The golden rope wraps she wore over the gown for support only seemed to accentuate her breasts.

Isaura cast a critical eye over the results of her ploy. Though she wished Ashe had traditional Alarian waist length hair…

'...because she would look absolutely stunning…'

...in little more than three weeks hers had grown from rough cut to cute page boy bob. When added to the rich radiant sheen her midnight hair had from the exotic oils and berries the Fefnoirs washed it with, and the circlet of small purple flowers Pikwel weaved and placed on top, the effect was breathtaking. Ashe looked so much like Shea it made her heart ache.

"Everything you mentioned is within a completely normal evening routine for 'high elves', as you would say, so no hidden agenda there…"

'...except for the full-length mirror,' Isaura added mentally. She couldn't help but smile at Ashe's flushed complexion when the girl mentioned it.

'Mission accomplished. I told Pikwel to have the largest mirror in the manor moved into your room...'

"...but suppose I did have an agenda? Would it be so bad for you to explore a different culture, gender, or species for that matter? I thought Aesh the Alquimista was a scholar who loved knowledge in all forms."

"When you put it like that, you make me seem narrowminded-"

"-if the shoe fits…"

"-oh, thanks for reminding me - that's another thing! You had Pikwel set these out for me!" Ashe held up her small foot, upon which was a spring green sandal with a one inch heel, and matching wraparound ribbon that traveled up her leg. "High heels! Explain that?!"

"Again, traditional Alarian footwear for formal dining," Isaura thought it best not to correct the girl that one inch heels were called 'kitten heels' and not high at all.

"Fine. And no, I'm not against new experiences, but where does all this fit into helping to stop the fortuneteller's prophecy of death and doom?"

"No one is more aware of all that's in play and at risk than me," Isaura snapped. "Tomorrow we sail; we'll follow a pirate's ship to an unknown fort and face an enemy who-"

The sound of dozens of tiny voices singing wafted into the dining room; a procession of Fefnoirs, men in little tuxedos, women in gowns, marched. Leading the parade were Piproos and Peppenet: she was holding several wine glasses and he was carrying a dusty green bottle. Behind then followed the rest of the staff, and some carried platters of food. On one, steamed lemon grass mussels; a second, poached oysters with mushrooms and garlic; a third, deep fried potato wedges, seasoned with rosemary and onions; and a fourth, spring greens marinated in vinegar.

Others toted plates, cutlery, silver candelabras and candles.

"The plague has slowed the flow of food into Glesea," Isaura whispered, leaning over toward Ashe. "The Fefnoirs have been scrounging together this meal since our arrival. You will smile and you will enjoy it!"

"Yes, mommy," Ashe answered in an attempt to be funny.

And instantly knew she'd screwed up by the look of deep anguish that spread over Isaura's face.

"I'm so sorry! I was only trying to make a joke," Ashe blurted out, grabbing Isaura's hand, contrition written on her face. "A stupid idiotic joke. Please forgive me. I'm a fucking moron."

"Forgiven," Isaura said in between laughs - she couldn't help it, one second Ashe plunged her into crushing grief, the next she yanked her out of it - "but please try to keep that mouth under control! Try? The Fefnoirs aren't used to language that can make a sailor's ears bleed."

"Sailor's ears bleed? Seriously? That's an exaggeration," Ashe said.

"You speech is very salty, love. If not bleed, then at least make a sailor blush."

"Fine, I'll try not to hurt their dainty ears, but I doubt very seriously I'd make a sailor blush. And... my etiquette is pretty poor," Ashe whispered, "but isn't the dinner table set before the guests arrive?"

"You obviously have never been to a Fefnoir feast, since-"

Ashe never heard the rest of that sentence, because a noisy commotion erupted at the opposite dining room door: Zinjo had arrived, dressed in a black dinner jacket, a red tartan kilt, supple black leather knee high boots. A red sash draped across his massive chest, with a badge near his heart - an eight pointed star surrounding the Tree of Life.

Behind him trailed two dozen Fefnoir girls, swooning and sighing.

"Am I too late?" he asked, pulling up a massive seat clearly designed for his body and sitting next to Ashe.

"Just in time," Isaura answered, "for Piproos and Peppenet are soon to begin the toast. But first, I rather expect some singing. What Fefnoir meal would be complete without singing?"

On cue, the little people began singing, though Ashe couldn't make heads or tails of it:

Listen closely to the sound!
Who is this I hear?
Deep down in the ground?
Hacking and cracking the rocks and the stones?

Then, in a flurry of bewildering movement, the Fefnoirs tossed - juggled might have been a better word for it - plates, knives, forks, spoons, linen napkins, and even the candelabras onto the table. Ashe listened for cracking ceramic sounds, but none came.

Is it the squirrel scampering so?
Collecting acorns to and fro?
No! It’s not the squirrel!
Then…Who is this I hear?
Deep down in the ground?

Several of the Fefnoirs produced walking stilts, Ashe didn't see where from, and dancing and pirouetting about the table top, lit the chandelier candles as they spun.

Hacking and cracking the rocks and the stones?
Is it the giant so big and bold?
Stomping around in the winter cold.
NO! It’s not our Zinjo so big and bold!

Suddenly all movement and sound ceased. Ashe blinked, blinked again, and managed to resist the urge to rub her eyes - each knife, fork and spoon, every candle, platter and napkin -perfectly placed.

"Wow!"

"Wow indeed!"

"A toast!" Piproos and Peppenet shouted together, raising their wine glasses in the air.

Ashe noticed then, a wine glass with sparkling white wine had been placed before her. When she also noticed she was the only one in the dining hall to yet raise a glass, she snatched it and held it high.

Peppenet spoke first, "There are good ships, and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the sea..."

"...But the best ships are friendships," Piproos, finished, "and may they always be."

Everyone took a healthy swig, so Ashe did too. Zinjo cleared his throat with a rumble.

"Ve drink! to having only as much sorrows in life as drops left in glasses!" He drained his glass with one gulp. Everyone else was quick to do that, too, once they understood the toast.

"Very traditional Vloi toast," Isaura whispered to Ashe, before clinking her glass with a spoon. She raised her glass now.

"Wherever you go, and whatever you do, may the grace of the Alarians be there with you."

Ashe felt energy flow from Isaura throughout the room, and everyone gave a collective sigh of contentment, before taking another sip from their glasses. Somehow it had been refilled when Ashe wasn't looking. Ashe understood on a deeper level Isaura had just given a blessing to her beloved servants rather than a toast.

It was then that she saw all eyes were on her. Isaura leaned over again to whisper, "Your turn. It is good manners for a guest at a Fefnoir feast to offer a toast to her hosts. They enjoy light, short, funny but well-wishing ones."

'Well then, no pressure there.'

She held her glass high again and directed it at Piproos and Peppenet.

"May misfortune follow you the rest of your life..." Ashe said in as low a voice as she could muster in her new body. She paused dramatically, and some tiny Fefnoirs even gasped, before she added, "and... never... catch... up."

The Fefnoirs cheered, laughed and swigged another drink. Zinjo roared and guzzled several.

"Well done, you," Isaura said, still chuckling as she sat.

"Thanks, though a heads up about the toast would have been nice."

"I suppose, but as I'm learning every moment I spend with you, you are more than capable of holding your own, love. I'm starting to have faith in you, and your role in this."

Having no idea what the sorceress meant by that, Ashe shrugged and dove into the wondrously delicious food that sat before her, only stopping to breathe now and then.

***

"Sorry to say had no luck with ship. None remain, not even leaky dingy."

The most amazing seafood meal Ashe had ever eaten had been cleared, the praline and cinnamon ice cream devoured, and now Isaura, Ashe and Zinjo sat alone at the dining table. Having completed the dinner service, the Fefnoirs were now eating their dinner in their own dining hall. The Little People's singing drifted down the hallway still.

"What does that mean?" Ashe asked.

"Our plan was to follow the pirate ship with the compass to its final port, and there find who is unleashing these plagues, and stop them, permanently."

Ashe noticed Isaura's expression had turned hard, predatory.

"But without a ship, how will we follow them?"

"Iz Plan B," Zinjo said, tossing back the last of his wine. "Which, if witch woman remembers, did not work so well last time."

"I forgot one tiny detail!" Isaura said to Ashe. "He blows everything out of proportion!"

"A rudder iz not tiny detail! Anyway, I had materials delivered to a Kaits Cove, iz close to where they dock."

"Okay, so let's suppose you conjure a ship out of thin air-"

Isaura snickered.

"What?"

"Nothing, you'll see tomorrow. Sorry, go on."

"...and you follow them, and stop somehow the people who are holding the Seven Kingdoms hostage with diseases. Suppose you do all that. Do you think once you do, Ymra will be appeased, or happy or whatever ...and change me back?"

"I believe it's a real possibility," Isaura answered truthfully. "And the operative word here is 'we', for you've a role to play too. A huge one, I'm betting."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because Ailana Crow came to you; the fortune was yours."

"You keep referring to that like you were there," Ashe crossed her arms. "How do you know this?"

"Because I have looked into your memories. I watched the reading that way."

"What else do you know?" Ashe asked, her voice rising in alarm. "The missing weeks I can't remember, have you seen those? Do you know what happened to me?"

"Calm down, love." Isaura said, in a soothing tone. "I have seen some. I know what happened to you."

"As do I, leetle one," Zinjo said, his voice soft. He took her tiny hand into his huge paw. "Trust Zinjo. You are not wanting those memories."

"But... they're mine," Ashe whispered. "My memories."

"Yes, they are," Isaura answered, "but to possess them once more would kill you."

This confused the girl even more, for the way the sorceress spoke of them made it sound like she somehow had them.

'But how is that possible?'

Before she could think on it further, the sorceress distracted her, for from thin air - that's how it looked to Ashe - Isaura produced a tarot card deck, and began laying a spread on the table, naming them as she did.

"The Fool, Crow of Avarice, the Hierophant reversed, Black Magus, Devil of Corruption, the Wretched Suicide, the Goddess of Cauldrons, the Reborn One, The Yoke of Despair, the Queen of Wands, Temperance, Ace of Flames, Queen of Keys, and the Apple Tree of Healing."

"These are..." Ashe leaned over, her hand going to her mouth, "the exact cards Ailana Crow laid down!"

Isaura nodded. "You said they were gibberish when she laid them. Do they mean more now?"

Ashe's hand slowly traveled over the cards, stopping first at the Black Magus. "This, I thought, was a rogue alquimista, Breviar."

"Yes, also known as The Blood Burn Archanist. We'll discuss him in a few minutes. What of the other cards?"

"Devil of Corruption. Are these the plagues…?"

"...Yes, I agree. What else?"

"When the soothsayer laid the cards, I thought this one," her hand hovered over the Fool, "was me. But now I see it maybe wasn't."

"Right. In the first position, the Fool means the start of a journey or troubles or adventure." Isaura's voice gentled, "Which card does represent you, love?"

Ashe's hand quivered as she picked the Reborn One. "This one." After Isaura nodded, she placed it back in its place on the tarot spread and pointed to the next card.

"The Yoke of Despair. I have no idea what this card means, either when Ailana laid it, or now."

"We do," Isaura said softly. "In most readings the card may represent a seemingly hopeless burden one is bearing. However, as with the other cards in your reading, it is quite literal. And has already happened. Worry not of it. What of the others cards?"

"What has already..." Ashe quieted, and then gathered her thoughts. "No! What has happened? Tell me! It... something happened to me in those weeks that are a blank. You know!"

"We do, but..." Zinjo stopped to gather his own thoughts. Then he straightened in his chair. "Terrible things happen to leetle one in Imis before Isaura took you from there. And Zinjo means after you were transformed. A cruel enchanted device was placed on you; iz called... never mind its name, Zinjo won't speak it."

Zinjo spat upon the floor.

"It broke leetle one, ripped your beautiful mind apart. They torture you. Make you do things... I think it maybe kiill you."

The giant's face paled as he recalled memories he touched in the Cavern of Dearmad. He shook his head to clear it of the blackness.

"When Isaura put you back together in the Cavern, it was Zinjo who told witch woman to keep memories from you."

"Even if you hadn't told me to I wouldn't have-"

"-No!" Zinjo said, cutting Isaura off. "Have anger at Zinjo, leetle Ashe. Zinjo would not let you suffer again."

'Put me back together again? What the hells does that mean?' Once again, loads of information, coming way too fast.

"But who would do this to me," Ashe asked, lost again, "and... and why?"

"The 'who' is my sister, di'Sona Faeyra, First Advisor to Arch Duchess Myantha-"

"-th-the ruler of all the elves... I mean, the Alarian people? That Arch Duchess?" Ashe stammered.

Ashe, along with everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, knew Myantha's title of 'Arch Duchess' was a misnomer. As Alari was the most powerful of the Seven Kingdoms, Myantha was, by default, the most powerful ruler in the world. The Alarian clans, from the beginning of time, could never agree on designating any one clan to hold the title of Alarian 'king' or 'queen,' and so its rulers always took 'lesser titles.'

"Yes, my twisted little sister is the chief advisor to that Arch Duchess Myantha." Isaura paused, trying to decide how much more to tell Ashe. "And as to why, di'Sona thought you committed a horrific crime, and also suspected you were in league with those who are spreading these plagues. She used ...the device ...to make you talk."

"What... crime?" Ashe's stomach churned. Could she have done something horrible? How could she know? She remembered nothing.

"I won't... no... I can't say." Isaura's eyes teared. "di'Sona was wrong - you weren't responsible."

"Please!" Ashe's own eyes teared. She grabbed Isaura's hands. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry. It was horrible, I can see it in your eyes-"

"I'm begging you, Ashe, begging! If you have an ounce of compassion in you, please, please, please! Ask no more of this."

Even as she nodded 'yes', a thought occurred to her, of what she might have done. Killing was anathema to her; all life was sacred. The thought of killing even the animals she ate for sustenance troubled her for many years.

'I couldn't have done that... killed Shea, could I? I would never kill anyone!'

"'Kay. Um, other cards," Ashe said, catching Isaura's grateful look before looking down at the tarot again.

"Queen of Wands - you. Temperance - Zinjo-"

-Temperance ...Zinjo?" Isaura asked, with an expression on her face that Ashe could only read as 'you must be insane!'

"I'm sure I'm wrong. Until recently, I thought tarot cards were complete bullshit."

"No, no, go on," Isaura said. "Let me hear your thinking."

"First, there are the two cups the angel is pouring," Ashe said, after picking the card up to look at it closely. "Measuring the right amount."

"To an alquimista, measuring, balancing, getting the perfect mixture is what we do. Zinjo, to me, is perfect mixture of strength and intelligence. And second," Ashe blushed a soft pink. "I feel like he is my guardian angel."

"Aaaw, leetle one make me blush too." The giant rose, then bowed, "I vill protect you always."

"Actually, you may be right," Isaura said, looking at the spread once more. "It is a most unusual reading. The cards tell us far more about who the players are, than what may happen. Crow of Avarice, the Hierophant reversed - this person is driven by greed, one who doesn't think rules apply to her. I say 'her' because I think this is the sorceress who placed the three wizards under geases. For some reason, I feel I should I know her."

"The man whom you have called Breviar, is the rogue now known as The Blood Burn Archanist," the sorceress continued. "Then we have cards representing you, me, now Zinjo too... I'm not sure what to make of the Queen of Keys. Do either of you know?"

"No, iz mystery to me," Zinjo said, shaking his head. "I once know Queen of Keese, but she die many centuries ago."

"Me neither, I-" Ashe paused as Zinjo's words sunk in. 'Hells! How old is he????' "-um... the 'King of Keys' is a title used by alquimistas to describe someone who is the best at solving puzzles..."

Ashe continued studying the tarot spread, looking at 'the Wretched Suicide’ card.

"But who is the..."

Ashe stopped her lips before they uttered 'the Wretched Suicide', because she had a sickening feeling it was Shea, and somehow Ashe was involved in her death.

So instead she moved her hand over the center card and said "...goddess?"

"She is at the center of this," Isaura replied. "Ymra, I believe. She is often pictured holding her cauldron of transformation. di'Sona invoked her name and then you were changed..."

Isaura leaned back in her chair and threw up her arms. "This is maddening!"

"I'll say!" Ashe agreed.

"No, I meant it differently than you. You think this is crazy-"

"-It is!"

"-but I think it's frustrating," Isaura continued. "We know much about the 'who', some about the 'what' but precious little the 'when' and 'how.' We don't even know if the goddess supports or opposes us."

"What do you mean?" Zinjo asked.

"What if Ashe was supposed to stop Blood Burn as Aesh, using alquimista skills. What if Ashe can't because of her change?"

"Do you... do you think that's true?" Ashe squeaked more than asked.

"I don't think so; my intuition tells me no, but how do we know for sure?" Isaura asked. "That's why I called it maddening."

"Where does this lead us then?" Zinjo asked with a yawn.

"It leads us to bed, old friend," Isaura said, smiling, "we've a big day tomorrow, so let's enjoy a good night’s sleep."

On cue, the Fefnoirs reappeared, Pikwel beside Ashe's chair, and a troop of giggling female Fefnoirs next to Zinjo.

"I'm to show you to your room, Mistress Ashe," Pikwel said, "and turn back your covers."

"And we're here to help you, Master Zinjo," the gaggle of Fefnoirs girls chimed in unison to the giant.

Ashe could read the desire in her young Fefnoirs’ eyes - she wanted to join her friends who helped Zinjo.

"He's a very big fellow," Ashe said to Pikwel. "Your friends could use an extra hand for sure. I'll be fine."

"Don't encourage them, leetle one!" the giant said, a note of desperation creeping into his tone. "Last time after I disrobe, they refused to give me sleepwear. They made me chase them around for an hour!"

Giggles erupted from the Fefnoirs.

"Yes, Pikwel, help the others with Zinjo, please. I need Mistress Ashera to come to my room for a bit. I have a favor to ask of her."

"Your wish is my command, Mistress," Pikwel said, and rushed to join her friends.

"I will not strip my clothes unless you promise to give me my sleepwear first, "Zinjo said.

"Then we'll tear them off you!" one Fefnoir shouted.

"Yes!" the rest agreed, and gathered round the giant, casting very predatory looks.

"We'd better hurry!" Isaura stood up and beckoned to Ashe. "This might start happening right here."

Ashe bounced up and hurriedly followed Isaura out of the dining room. She could have sworn she heard ripping sounds as they walked down the hallway to Isaura's bedroom.

***

Isaura asked Ashe to wait while she changed into a nightgown. While Isaura was in her walk-in closet, Ashe glanced around the bedroom.

It was much like her own, with rich tapestries on the wall and a canopy bed. Except on the hearth over the fireplace, a strange crystal lay on its side, with swirling colors of black and white. Ashe felt drawn to it - it seemed so familiar. She wanted to touch it, and started to take a step toward it.

"I'm back, sweetie."

When she turned to face the sorceress, well, Ashe wasn't sure what she expected, maybe something like the flannel gowns she used to see on her mother and sister.

"What is that?"

"What is what?"

"What you're wearing!"

What the sorceress wore, to Ashe, looked ethereal and airy; a semi-sheer white garment that fell from Isaura's shoulders to her ankles. It did very little to cover Isaura's long lean body.

"It's called a 'nightgown.'

"If you say so."

The sorceress had let her hair down too. Since Ashe had awakened in the cave four days ago...

'Only four days? That already seems so long ago...'

...she only ever seen Isaura's shimmery black hair wrapped in a bun. Now it flowed down her back to her waist. Standing before her, in the glow of nearby candles, with her dark eyes, soft red lips and exquisite pointed ears, Ashe decided that without question, Isaura was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She suddenly realized she was staring, and looked at the floor.

"I keep forgetting you are a very male-thinking Alarian teenage girl," Isaura laughed.

Ashe blushed hotly. "Um, you mentioned a favor?"

"Mmhm, follow me please."

Isaura led the girl to a vanity table and sat. She picked up a silver hairbrush and turned to look at Ashe. Once more, Ashe had trouble describing Isaura's expression; she'd not seen anything like it on the woman's face. It was a mixture of longing, crushing sadness and ...hope? She looked so very vulnerable.

"When Shea was... when we traveled together back before... I... each night we used to... it was our time together, our special ritual ...and you look so much like... I wondered if..."

Isaura's words failed her and tears pooled in her eyes. Before she could completely break down, Ashe took the brush from her hand.

"Of course I'll brush your hair."

Rather than starting at the top, Ashe held Isaura's hair in the middle with one hand, making a kind of ponytail out of it. Then with gentle strokes she started by brushing out the ends of Isaura's hair, working out any knots. Being careful not to pull, she began working her way toward Isaura's scalp, one segment at a time.

"You've done this before," Isaura sighed.

"Yes," Ashe smiled, remembering, as she brushed, "I used to do this for my little sister."

"Oh! How thoughtless of me," Isaura said. "She must be worried sick for you. We can have Piproos send word you are okay... er sort of okay. Alive."

"No, that's not necessary."

"The rest of your family then? Mother? Father?"

"No." Ashe's voice was barely a whisper.

Isaura was silent for several moments pondering that answer. Then it came to her. Aesh was from Ogda, which was ravaged by the Black Death about twelve years ago.

"Oh honey, not the Black Death? Not all of them?"

"Mama, Papa," Ashe said, "my older brothers, Aidan and Glyn, and my sister, Catelyn."

Isaura turned and hugged the girl tightly. She guessed Aesh would have been about eight when he lost everyone dear to him.

"I'm so sorry."

"It was a long time ago," Ashe said, "s'okay."

They were both quiet for a long while after that, each lost in their pain. Ashe pulled away and began brushing again, until...

"It's why I wanted to become an Alquimista Master," she said, "I wanted... to find cures for diseases, to preserve life, to make sure no one else suffered...

'...the way I did...' Isaura heard it, even though the girl didn't voice it. Yet unwittingly she had taken Shea's life.

'She must not know, ever' Isaura thought; she saw now it would devastate her.

"Switch," Isaura said, standing.

"What?"

"Your turn," Isaura said. "Let me brush your hair."

"You don't need to..."

"Move."

"No, really." Ashe touched the back of her head; her midnight black hair barely reached her neck. "I don't have any to brush!"

"Hush," Isaura said, sitting Ashe in her vanity seat. She leaned her face next to Ashe's, and in the vanity mirror, they looked for all the world like mother and daughter.

"Hush, love."

***

Chapter 5 - Bad memories

Once they left Celemiril Manor, and onto the streets of Glesea, the gloomy unnatural mist closed in again. They heard the wails and screeches of pain of those afflicted by the Wasting, and they had the vague feeling of being surrounded by ghosts.

Isaura felt the magic spell fueling the dreary fog. She could dispel it easily enough, but for now the cover it provided served their purpose as well. She would be using powerful magical energy this morning, and wanted no unwelcome eyes watching.

"You okay, Ashe?" Isaura asked, as their carriage wound its way through the market district. Isaura had parked her beloved gypsy wagon at the manor. Zinjo had left the manor before Ashe had awoken. Isaura said he'd left early to take care of some mysterious preparations.

"Yes, better than okay."

Ashe smiled; for the first time since she'd awoken in the cavern, she felt a tiny bit like her old self. She clutched the wooden box in her hands.

"Thanks again." Isaura surprised her before they left her house this morning. The sorceress instructed Piproos and Peppenet to gather a typical 'alquimista kit'; the sorceress had several alquimista tomes in her library which listed its contents. She knew Ashe's kit must have been taken from her in Imis, and thought the girl would feel more grounded with something familiar at her side.

Now the girl happily clutched a small leather box full of clippers, stoppers, syringes, mortar and pestle, and twenty or so pouches and vials full of solutions and powders.

"You can pay me back in information. While we track The Havock on the open sea, you and I are going to have a lot of time to discuss The Blood Burn Archanist and the evil he is capable of. I want you to be thinking of all you remember of him, because even the smallest detail may be helpful."

"You mean as we sail on the non-existent boat?" Ashe said with a grin. "I'll be ready."

"Cheeky girl," Isaura smiled back. "You'll see."

Ashe was as lost today as when they arrived in Glesea, for the fog made getting her bearings impossible. Peppenet drove the carriage with confidence through what seemed to Ashe to be solid gray wall, and when she smelled the sea, she figured they'd arrived. Somewhere.

"Ho, Mistress," Peppenet, called from atop the carriage, "Kaits Cove. Your supplies are in the crate by the beach."

"Let's go, Ashe," Isaura said, "show time."

Ashe looked about after she stepped out; to her left, she could see something solid through the fog - the outline of the city wall. To her right, through the wispy fog, she thought she might have seen the wooden docks in a nearby cove.

"Do not wait so long to come again, Mistress," Peppenet said, "we miss you."

"And I you," Isaura said. "Give my love to Piproos."

"An... an... Mistress Ashe? My apologies for mistaking you for your sister. Please come back soon. It's your house too, ya know."

On impulse, Ashe bounced up the carriage step and gave the small man a kiss on the cheek.
"Pass that on to Pikwel for me, Peppenet."

"Awwww... I surely will." Even in the mist, Ashe saw him smile and blush. "Heeah Sugarmane, heeah Dandy, let's go home."

"A kiss on his cheek? Interesting," Isaura said as they watched the fog swallow the moving carriage.

"How so?"

"A very feminine impulse, if you ask me," Isaura said. "Or did Aesh the Alquimista wander the streets of Edefia smooching the cheeks of all he met?"

"Hey, I could have! What's wrong with that?" Ashe said. "Not only people either. I used to kiss any dogs I ran into, too. They called me 'Aesh the Dog Smoocher.'"

"Aesh the Dog Smoocher? Hahahahaha!"

Aesh almost jumped out of her boots - she was wearing supple thigh high leather boots Pikwel brought her this morning, in addition to her leggings, tunic and robe - when a looming giant figure appeared out of the mist.

"Don't do that, Zinjo!" Isaura said, "you'll scare us to death!"

"Zinjo iz sincerely sorry," the giant said with an elaborate bow. The tone in his voice told Ashe he wasn't sorry at all.

“Pay back is a bitch, Zingo,” Ashe said, smiling wickedly.

“Ha! As if leetle one could ever scar Zinjo! Now, as you asked, I have gathered the wood, pitch and nails," Zinjo said. "Must hurry. The Havock arrived one hour ago and ransom is being delivered. Soon they will give antidote, raise anchor and leave."

Ashe's eyes followed where Zinjo pointed; on cue, the mists parted, revealing stacks and stacks of long wood planks, barrels full of wooden pegs, and an enormous metal bucket filled with gooey black stuff.
"Wait! We're going to build a boat?"

"Not we, me," Isaura said. "You get to watch and be amazed and awed. Oh, Zinjo will help out a tiny bit with the pitch."

"Best stand back, leetle one, when iz like this, she needs much room."

"Because of all the, um, building?" Ashe knew she sounded stupid, but she was still trying to work out what was happening.

"No, because her ego grows so big, it leaves little room for others," Zinjo said.

"Funny. First Ashe, now you. I suppose you two are simply incapable of appreciating my awesomeness."

"I need you to watch the dial and let me know if it moves." Isaura handed Ashe her compass. "Can you do that?"

"I'm fully certified to operate an andipose," Ashe answered, taking the magically altered compass from the sorceress, "so I'm pretty sure I can."

"An andipose whatsit?" Isaura said, shaking her head. "Never mind, I'll take that as a 'yes'. Let me know the moment the dial moves."

Isaura turned to face the stacks of planks, her wand in her right hand.

"Reka."

Planks flew forty feet up and hovered there.

"Ra'mrl"

Isaura concentrated, and the planks began assembling plank to plank. At first, Ashe didn't know what the planks were doing, but after more and more joined, she understood:

'They're forming into a hull!'

Isaura pointed her wand at the barrels.

"Reka.'

Streams of pegs swirled into the air to hover.

"Na'auc."

Down they flew, pounding into the individual planks, fastening them together.

Planks and pegs joined at a dizzying pace; Ashe thought she saw the keel forming on the bottom of the hull, guessed the tall vertical pole was the mast, but soon she lost track, the flurry of movement was simply too fast.

Isaura paused briefly and nodded at Zinjo, who sucked in a long, long breath, and blew on the metal bucket that held the pitch. Ashe had to step away, because the air blasting from his lips against the metal was hair-singingly hot. The metal soon glowed red.

'Clearly, I have much to learn about Zinjo, too,' Ashe thought in wonder.

When the pitch started to bubble, Isaura pointed her wand at it:

"Reka"

A thin stream of black goo rose, controlled by the sorceress' wrist movements.

"A'oa"

The stream sprayed downward, spreading out into the fore, aft and center of the hull.

'Shit, she's sealing it!'

Isaura returned to the remaining planks and pegs that floated in the air once the pitch was applied, waving her wand, and they began assembling again, into a cabin, then deck above, and finally railings.
After several more minutes, Ashe's mouth simply fell open, in awe and amazement. For floating forty feet above the ground was a one hundred foot long sailing ship.

"Rfail"

With a flick of her wrist, the ship began spinning slowly. Ashe saw that Zinjo was looking closely at the hull, examining each plank.

"Finished?" Isaura asked.

"I think... iz good."

"Iz good?" Isaura said with a laugh, pointing her wand at the ship again. "Iz very good."

"Ruwas"

The ship lowered slowly into the water to float just offshore.

"Well?" she looked at Ashe with a smug smile.

"Iz fucking amazing!" Ashe whispered.

***

Even with Isaura's 'instant ship', there was plenty of work needed to get underway: rigging the sail, fixing the helm, attaching the anchor, and unpacking supplies. Yet that came together quickly too.
'It never hurts to have a sorceress and giant about.' Ashe mused, as she sat at the bow watching Zinjo test the rigging.

After Isaura had finished, she had ask the sorceress why, if she could create a huge boat from magic, couldn't she change her body back. Isaura explained that for all the size and wonder of it, there were only two components to the ship, wood, and pitch.

She then asked Ashe. “How many components were there to the body?” As Ashe began figuring out the dizzying number involved with the circulation system alone, she had her answer - the components, the variables involved with a body were infinitely more complex than their magic ship. It really was going to take a god or goddess to change her back.

Ashe glanced down at the compass in her hand again, and saw its needle bouncing off the degree it had been fixed on.

"It's moving," Ashe shouted, and stood.

"Point to where the needle is pointing," Zinjo shouted back, tying off the last of the ropes.

"It's moving ...moving... there!" Ashe pointed with her hand to the mouth of the cove.

"The Havock has put to sea," Zinjo said as he joined Isaura at stern, taking the helm in his hands.

'How?' wondered Ashe. 'There is no wind, and this fog sits here heavy and dank.'

"Well then, we should too," Isaura said, pointing her wand. "Here goes nothing."

"Bra'll"

With a -pop- the sail grew taut, and the ship scraped off the shallow sand and into deeper water. Zinjo spun the helm first one way, then another.

"She's responsive; you've done well, witch woman."

"Well, bother," Isaura said; Zinjo's words reminded her of something. "I've forgotten one thing."

"Iz most complete," the giant said, frowning. "What could you be forgetting?"

"Hopefully nothing important," Ashe added, joining them.

"It's the most important thing of all," Isaura said. "A name. Give her one, love."

"A name? Why me?"

"Because this is our ship, it belongs to the three of us, and this will be your contribution."

Ashe thought about that, and nodded her agreement. She had never known a ship to be unnamed. Maybe it was bad luck not to have one.

She kicked around several different names, such as 'Gypsea', in honor of Isaura's gypsy wagon, or something funny like 'Thar She Floats'. But finally, she thought the name should be about their journey. What they were doing.

'And what are we doing? Trying to change me back to Aesh?'

She longed for that, but that was not what this journey was about. Ashe, more than anyone, knew what was at risk. For it was she who uncovered the professor's notes in what now seemed years ago.

'This is not about me.'

People suffered terribly across the Seven Kingdoms from the Wasting plague, reminding her of the horrors of that other plague, which took from her all she loved. And the plague was the least of it. If Breviar, or Burn Blood, - that sick name for him seemed all too appropriate - was to produce his serum and release it, the world would feel death such as it had never seen.

Their entire focus must be to stop this tragedy, using all the knowledge and power Isaura and Zinjo possessed. Yet some voice deep within told her that knowledge and power alone could not do this; against such evil, they would need mercy and compassion if they hoped to prevail.

'Hmm, knowledge ... compassion ...hope ...that sounds like ...the goddess Aana.'

"How about... 'The Hope of Aana'?"

Isaura looked first at Zinjo with wide-eyed surprise, and then back to Ashe. She ran to the shorter girl and hugged her fiercely, tears forming in her eyes.

"For all I've done today, your idea surpasses it, I think. The goddess must be our star above to guide us,
if we hope to succeed."

"The Hope of Aana, she is!"

***

"Thank the gods for Zinjo!"

The cabin Isaura had conjured below deck was little more than four walls and a ceiling; the 'little more' being two rough bunk beds and scratchy wool blankets for warmth and padding. Sure, she missed the soft downy bed she'd slept in at Celemiril, but at this moment, as the The Hope of Aana tossed from wave to wave, she was so glad the giant had rigged a belt into her bunk to stop prevent her from bouncing off the walls.

Isaura was in a deep sleep in the bunk above her - the magical shipbuilding had taken its toll - and Zinjo had the helm, guiding the ship through the storm…

"Oh hahahahahaha! I am heeeeere! Come and get meeeeee!!!!"

...which he absolutely loved. She heard him now, daring the lightning to strike him.

And the storm obliged, sending a lightning bolt crackling nearby, followed by a thunder roar.

"Serene Sea? Ha! What fart dog named it that? And why couldn't we have a calm beautiful moonlit night with the Small Anvil constellation twinkling overhead and the wondrous Rana Borealis shimmering on the western horizon?" Ashe moaned.

Those wishes were dashed when The Hope of Aana cleared the unnatural fog, and encountered this storm. Which Isaura said was also magically generated. She believed wizards or weather mages on The Havock had cast it to discourage any pursuit. Isaura could easily dispel it, but not without tipping their prey off that they were being followed.

"How the fuck can Isaura sleep through this?!" Ashe wondered aloud when yet another wave rolled her into the wall.

She heard a scooching noise and saw Isaura's pack had wiggled free from the ropes fastening it to the wall. Some of its contents were loose on the floor, including several strange looking crystals, a few pinkish ones, a pitch black one, and the gray pulsing crystal she'd seen the night before in Isaura's room.

"Well, crap!"

Ashe unbuckled the belt holding her in. She couldn't let Isaura's stuff scatter everywhere; who knew what a sorceress kept hidden away, maybe even another boat! Also, her hands itched to touch that crystal ever since she'd seen it.

She hopped onto the cabin floor, swayed as another wave rolled the ship, dropped to her hands, and crawled over to the stones. Ashe wrapped her hands around the gray one.

'Something's wrong!' Isaura bolted upright in her bunk, knocking her head against the ceiling. "Ow."

She tried to shake the drowsiness from her head, taking a quick inventory - she felt no magic other than her own, so not under attack. The ship felt like it was still in one piece. She glanced around the dark cabin, and saw…

"No! Ashe! Drop that!"

The sorceress unbuckled herself from the bed and leaped down, ran to the girl, and yanked the Cabrcon crystal - which no longer pulsed black and white but now was its original neutral pink - from her hands. Ashe's memory of her meeting with Shea had been restored.

"I killed her."

"You didn't mean to..." Isaura answered, not liking what she saw in Ashe's eyes. "You didn't want to."

"Your daughter." Ashe focused on Isaura. "You must hate me!"

"No, no... please, sweetie, come back over to your bed and let's talk about this."

"I became an alquimista to save lives," Ashe whispered, looking at her hands in horror. "Instead I'm a murderer!"

She sprang up and scrambled up the ladder, knocked open the latch and ran on deck.

"Wait, Ashe!" Isaura shouted, and followed as fast as she could.

When she climbed on deck, she saw Zinjo standing at the railing and no sign of Ashe.

"Take the helm, and circle," the giant said, scanning the choppy sea.

"What? Why? And where is Ashe?"

"Overboard," the giant answered, as he jumped over the rail.

***
  
Ashe's story will conclude in Memory and Memories - Part 3