In this sequel to No Obligation, it’s a few months into Becca’s new life as the Advocate, and she’s trying to do the impossible — meet all of her duties and obligations and still have a life. But the Multiverse has hidden dangerous powers, and one of them may be taking an interest … in her.

 

by Randalynn

###

“Justice, justice shalt thou pursue ...” — Deuteronomy (16:20)
 
“And what the Lord doth require of thee: Only to do justly, love mercy
And walk humbly with thy God.” — Micah 6:8)
 
“I AM the Law!” — Judge Dredd

 
I woke slowly, and my world was full of smells — the overwhelming scent of fox, and the musk of my own sex mixed with something vaguely animal. My ears flicked a few times, picking up the sounds of a living forest — the breeze in the leaves, the birds singing, small animals rustling through the tall grass around me. As my eyes fluttered open, all I could see was a forest of reddish fur, and all at once I realized who, what, and where I was.

Of course, it was complicated.

First, I was Rebecca Jane Barnes, the Advocate. I was chosen by the Creator of the Omniverse to protect humans preyed upon by magic users and given unprecedented access to the magic I needed to get the job done. I was also Becca Barnes, daughter of Jack and Carolyn Barnes, sister of Emma and Jeremy Barnes and almost-sister of Heather Thomas, foster child and a magic user herself as a result of my first case as the Advocate. In another weird twist, until about two months ago, I was Jack Barnes, and I had no daughter named Rebecca until I ran into a pain-eating demon and was tricked into becoming a baby girl.

Like I said, it’s complicated. Work with me, folks — remember, I had to live it. You’re only getting it second-hand.

Oddly enough, I was also Becca, a young single-tailed kitsune, or Japanese fox spirit. It was the result of a magically enhanced possession accident, and the one responsible for my unlikely transformation was Akomachi, a thousand-year-old fox spirit in service to the temple of Inari. Because of the possession, we had shared both body and soul, and I knew her as intimately as she knew me. When we were one, I felt her longing for a child of her own. Since I was literally little more than a child in the kitsune world, I had accepted her as my second mother, just as she had accepted me as the daughter she had always wanted.

But at that moment, in that time and place, I was all of it and none. I was just a small, happy vixen in Akomachi’s transdimensional home, waking up after a long night’s sleep on a warm soft patch of ground.

And that felt just fine.

Lifting my muzzle from under my tail, I gave myself a long stretch to work out all the kinks, then trotted around in a circle to get some circulation going. The weather here was always perfect, always spring, and always temperate. But I wasn’t perfect, not even as a fox, and this body was just as physical as it appeared.

The river was nearby, and I padded over to it for a quick drink. As I lapped daintily, I checked out my reflection. I liked how I looked in my fox form, and I was thankful for the odd quirk of fate that allowed me to become a kitsune, to straddle two pantheons, and to be loved by two moms.

“Just as I am thankful to be loved by you, my daughter.”

I lifted my head an instant before Akomachi’s nose touched my neck, and her warmth flowed through me. She had assumed her fox form as well, a beautiful white fox with nine long flowing tails.

“Good morning, Casa.” I spoke mind to mind, raising my chin so she could nuzzle me.

“Good morning, Becca,” she replied, her happiness clear through our link. “I am sure you slept well, since you always do.”

“Just as hunger makes the best sauce, so does the need for sleep make a girl sleep well.” I opened my mouth in a predator’s grin, and I felt her smile back. “My life being as full as it is, coming here to spend time resting is always a joy. And seeing you makes it doubly so.”

“I notice you spend a lot of your time here as a vixen.” My kitsune mother gently mouthed my ears, and I shivered from the sensation. “Why is that?”

I thought about it some, and began walking along the river bank. Akomachi matched me step for step as we wandered through her domain, listening to the river’s gentle flow.

“I think it is because it brings me closer to the spirit of your home, to spend it as a part of the natural order here. I know I feel better sleeping here as fox than as human. It’s almost as if Home accepts me in my other form, but welcomes me fully as vixen.”

“And why not spend time here as kitsune?” She seemed quite curious, almost as if she herself did not know the answer. As usual, I suspected this was her way of getting me to see something she already knew. My other mother (and former wife Carolyn, although she knew nothing about me once being her husband) also tended to lead us kids where she wanted us to go by asking us questions to which she already knew the answer. I hoped one day when I was a mom that I’d be as good as she is.

In the meantime, Akomachi waited patiently for an answer. I heaved a sigh that came out as a half-growl, then shook my head.

“I know I should spend more time as kitsune, Casa. Here and elsewhere. I understand that, and accept that being kitsune and your daughter is an important and vital part of my life. I love you and I am honored to be a part of your world as well as my human life.”

She nodded and waited. I sighed again.

“But when I am vixen, life is so much simpler. There are times I need that. I don’t have to think or weigh or analyze or judge. I don’t have to fight or punish. I just have to be. Here, as fox, I exist in the now. And since time passes so slowly here, I can rest from my duties as the Advocate in hours that are mere seconds outside. That means I am not leaving my work undone while I rest and come back to myself.”

Akomachi stopped and sat, and motioned with her head that I should sit as well. I sat beside her, and we both watched the water pass.

“There is more, my child.” I felt her smile inside. “No deception between us, daughter. We both know you are not being completely truthful, with me or yourself.”

“You are right, Casa. As always.” I hung my head.

She nudged my chin back up with her nose. “As your mother, it is my job to be right, always.”

I managed a grin, and Akomachi smiled back. “Tell me what troubles you, Becca.”

I looked into her eyes. “As kitsune and as your daughter, I am responsible for the commitments of the pantheon to which we both belong. Here at home, I feel safe to assume my true form, but if I should become kitsune outside, it will immediately bind me to the duties and obligations I share as kitsune. And I worry that they might conflict with my duties and obligations as the Advocate.”

There was a long silence as I felt her thinking, and she sighed.

“I understand that this troubles you, but it should not.” Akomachi reached out and gently held my soul in hers. “The duties and obligations of a kitsune are not nearly as heavy as your responsibilities as the Advocate. You know that kitsune are essentially free to do as they please within the limited restrictions of the pantheon, unless they choose to serve as handmaidens to Inari. You cannot make that choice, because your position in the other pantheon as the Advocate is a commitment you freely accepted before you became one of us.”

She shook her head. “If you had reached into the repository of knowledge the Omnipresence gifted you with, you would have weighed the obligations of each of your roles yourself and soothed your own concerns. But instead, you allowed it to weigh upon you and distract you from what is truly bothering you. So tell me, Becca-chan. What truly troubles you?”

I looked away, not wanting to see her eyes. “That I will not be able to be the daughter you always wanted, Casa. That who I am and how I came to be, and all the other responsibilities I hold will take me away from you. After you have waited so long to have your own kit, I fear being a disappointment to someone I love very much.”

I waited for her answer, and it wasn’t long in coming. Akomachi darted forward, grabbed my ear in her mouth and tugged hard. I let out a yipe and jumped back, and she gave me a playful grin as her tails darted back and forth.

“So serious you are for one so young,” she said, her love pouring across the small distance between us. “To worry so much when our lives together have only just begun.”

My second mother moved towards me, shifting into her kitsune form and gathering me into her arms. I curled into her warmth, and she nuzzled my neck.

“Silly girl,” she whispered, holding me to her breast. “You do so much for so many, and yet you worry it’s not enough — that you are not enough, somehow. The accident that brought us together was a precious gift, just as you are to me, and I am so thankful that you have accepted me as your mother. Just be YOU, little one. You are already everything I could ever have asked for in a daughter, and so much more.”

“As for anything taking you away from me, that could never happen.” Akomachi smiled down at me. “I understand how important your other family is to you, and I honor your commitment to your oath and your duty. But our time here can go on until whenever we choose to end it, as often as we like. You can come here with but a thought, and return to the world outside without anyone even noticing you’ve been gone. We will always have each other, my child.”

I climbed out of her arms and transformed to my kitsune form, then leaned forward and hugged her tight.

“I love you, Casa.”

“I love you, too, daughter.”

###

I appeared in the darkness of my room, next to my bed, wearing the nightgown and robe I had put on before we said goodnight to Mom and Dad and went off to bed. Only an instant had passed since I left, shortly after Heather and I had shut off the lights.

Still, Heather stirred just a bit.

“I felt that,” she said softly. “Like a flicker in the wards. Wicked.”

“That’s terrific!” I whispered back. “How long have you been able to do that?”

She looked down from the top bunk, sweeping her long brown hair to one side to keep it from dangling in her face.

“I dunno.” Heather scrunched up her face and thought for a second. “I noticed somethin’ a while back, but I didn’t know what it was. Nice.”

“Now that you know what it is, you can work with Mrs. Graymalkin on focusing it and making it work for you.”

My almost-sister nodded. “I’d like that. She’s a good teacher. How long were you gone?”

I shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. Time there is different, remember? I slept a long time . . . I think. Foxes don’t wear watches, and kitsune seem to laugh at time. I feel rested, so I’m guessing I am rested.”

“I hope so. I worry about you, you know.”

I looked up with surprise. “You do?” She nodded. “Why?”

“Just ‘cause.” She paused, and I could almost feel her thinking. “No, you deserve more than that. ‘Cause you’re my sister and my friend and I love you.”

“Why should that make you worry about me?”

“Because I don’t think you worry enough about yourself.”

“Okay, confused now.” I floated up and sat on the edge of her bed. “No sense opening up a can of worms unless you plan to feed ‘em to me, sis.”

Heather shuddered. “That is SO gross!”

“Well, I just spent a night as a vixen, so my human sensibilities might be a bit frayed.” Another long pause. “Come on, Heather. Tell!”

She pushed herself up on her elbows, yawned, then sighed. “I’m sleepy, and I suck at making sense when I’m sleepy. I’ll tell you tomorrow. ‘kay?”

“Promise?”

She nodded and made an “X” between her breasts. “Cross my heart. You need to hear it, and I need to say it. But I need to say it right, and I’m barely awake.”

I bent over and kissed her forehead. “Okay, girl. Whatever it is, it’ll keep til tomorrow.”

I floated back to the floor and cast an aversion spell to avoid unwanted attention to the fact my bed would be empty for a while, then prepared to port to my next destination. Heather stirred one last time.

“Becca?”

“Hmmm?”

“Be careful out there tonight?”

“Always.”

###

I popped into Leander’s living room to find her curled up on her sofa watching her big-screen wall-mounted television. Her long blonde hair was loose, and tumbled across her shoulders in soft curls as she stared at the flickering screen, a glass of wine in her hand. As she did every night when I arrived, she wore her battle uniform — the black glove-leather catsuit she had somehow acquired before we faced down the Cat Goddess all those weeks ago. The belt of throwing stars and daggers fit snug against her flat stomach just above her hips. The broadsword she usually carried slung across her back was propped against the side of the coffee table, glowing a dim blue that had nothing to do with reflected light.

I knew the sword was magic, and I half suspected it was sentient in some way, but part of me didn’t want to know. During my short career as the Advocate, I hadn’t had a lot of experience with magical artifacts, and for all my power and arcane knowledge, something about Leander’s weapon frightened me, just a little.

“Hey.” I sat down next to her on the sofa, and she wiggled over a bit to give me room.

“Hey,” she replied, taking a sip of wine. “How was your day?”

“School, boyfriend, tae kwon do, boyfriend, dance and strategy, boyfriend, dinner, homework, sleepy time as a vixen in Akomachi’s den, then here.” Leander passed me the wine and I took a small sip, then passed it back.

“Sounds boring, the way you tell it,” Leander said with a smile.

“It’s incredibly mind-numbingly normal, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” I moved closer and rested my head on her shoulder, and she reached around and gave me a hug with her free arm. “I love it too much to ever take it for granted.”

She left her arm where it was, and turned her head to kiss my hair. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, and it warmed me.

“I am glad. Given how we spend our nights, I think perhaps normal is something you need more of in your life.”

I nodded. “And what about your day?”

“Normal as well. My daily five-mile run, cleaning house, magical studies, weight and endurance training at the gym, sword work, martial arts, and some spa time to wind down after dinner.”

“Martial arts?”

“Yes. I found a man who claims to be able to teach Jeet Kune Do. After watching Bruce Lee in several films and reading his book, I am interested in knowing more. I think it may possibly have applications for our work as well.”

I reached back into my head and pulled up a translation. “The Way of the Intercepting Fist.”

“Yes. Something like the way the Cat Goddess and her children fought only without the wasted energy. Defense and offense combined, but used to fight more efficiently, not less. No wasted motion in rigid katas, just instant reaction to attack. It intrigued me.”

I looked over at the television to find Harrison Ford staring back at me in full Indy regalia.

“Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Leander smiled. “I’m afraid I’m still catching up on popular culture. Now that I’m free not to be a slave to someone else’s desires, I’m working on figuring out what I actually like and dislike. Since the invention of cinema, I’ve only seen the films my past three or four husbands wished to see, and gushed about them because they wanted to be reassured that I loved them as much as they did, even when I didn’t.”

Leander had been a warlord in Medieval Europe, somewhere around the time of the Borgias in Italy. He had been male, then, and used his magic to inflict pain and suffering on those he ruled. An ancient Cat Goddess had transformed him into a farmer’s wife and made her slavishly obedient, and happy to be his property (at least when he was present). A group called the Arbiters, magical judges who at one time held sway over crimes in the magical realm, had extended this punishment for over five hundred years and a succession of husbands, until I managed to gain custody of her and recruited her to fight magical evil by my side. She had learned her lesson about the abuse of power all too well at the hands of the Arbiters, and was more than happy to help me stop it in the modern world.

I waved towards the screen. “And what do you think of Indiana Jones?”

“An interesting character,” she replied, glancing back at the screen. “He is flawed in his desire to steal artifacts belonging to indigenous peoples for personal gain, yet there is something about him that makes me interested in seeing what he does next. Maybe it is his enthusiasm and respect for the very antiquities he seeks to steal. He is knowledgeable about his area of expertise, yet not content to remain in the protected environment of academia — willing to take risks to get what he wants.”

I felt her stiffen for a second, then she sighed. “I also seem to find him strangely appealing when he grins.”

“I think that’s more your hormones reacting to Mr. Ford, as opposed to Indy’s inherent charm.” I grinned, and she looked away for an instant.

“Perhaps. The longer I explore my new life as a free woman, the more ... complicated my reactions seem to be when it comes to men. It’s ... odd.” She put down the wine glass, picked up the remote, and pressed PLAY. It was the scene with the flying wing and the large Nazi using Indy as a punching bag.

“As a warrior, Professor Jones seems a bit underwhelming. Aside from a rather impressive ability to improvise, his approach to battle appears to be allowing himself to get hit a lot until luck or circumstance save him. As any true warrior knows, the Universe is largely indifferent to your battle. You have to make your own luck to survive.”

“True, but you said it yourself. He’s Professor Jones. He’s not a warrior, he’s a scholar. He just keeps winding up in situations where he has to do the best he can or die.”

Her eyes widened. “Ah, of course. He fights because he must, not because he chooses to.”

“And he uses his intellect to seek out ways to win, hence his ability to improvise.” We watched a bit more. “Judging by how much punishment he takes, Indy would have to be a masochist to seek out the fights he seems to get into, and I don’t see that in the character at all. He does love adventure, though. That’s why he can’t stay in a classroom. There’s a whole world out there, and he doesn’t want to miss it.”

She stopped the DVD and shut off the television. “Speaking of the whole world, we have a job to do, do we not?”

“We do. Folks to save, mages to punish.”

I stood up and moved to the center of the floor. Leander rose to her feet and reached down to the table. The sword floated upward and seemed to attach itself to her back, scabbard and all. I fought off a shiver at how single-minded it felt, as if it had waited all day for Leander to act.

“Someday I’d like you to tell me about that sword,” I said, readying my scrying spell.

“You have but to ask, Becca,” Leander replied with a smile. “No secrets between the Advocate and her champion.”

I smiled back. “I know. I’ve just been afraid to ask.” I paused. “It feels alive.”

She reached behind her and drew the sword from its scabbard.

“That’s because it is. It is a living blade, forged by the focused intent of a singularly powerful mage long ago as a weapon against evil or injustice.”

I stopped and took a closer look. The sword seemed to flash a deeper blue, acknowledging my attention.

“It looks medieval, although there seem to be some modern design elements.”

“It is Sumerian, actually. It is called Allaku, the Wanderer, although it is also known as Cedar, ‘the continual doer.’ The reason it looks the way it does is that it changes over time to match the state of the swordmaker’s art and the needs of the one who wields it. Since I am most comfortable and efficient with the broadsword, it accommodates my skills while also taking the form of the best possible broadsword that could be made with today’s technology.”

“How did you find it?”

“I didn’t, actually. It found me.” I tilted my head, and she sighed. “The morning after we took our oaths, it appeared floating above the foot of my bed. It told me its history and informed me that it would be joining me in your service.” She smiled and shook her head. “It didn’t give me a choice.”

Leander paused a moment, then continued. “I had heard of Allaku, of course, back when I was a mage-king, but never expected to see it, let alone be allowed to wield it.”

“Why?”

Leander blushed. “It is called the Wanderer with good reason. It moves through history, choosing only those who are champions to wield it in the defense of what is right and just. I was not a champion when I was a mage-king. Instead, I was a bully and a tyrant, and when my scholars revealed its history to me, I viewed the possibility of encountering Allaku with some dread. I had visions of some broad-shouldered hero kicking down the wall of my castle and slicing me in half with it. But of course, the Cat Goddess had her way with me, and the Arbiters trapped me, and now I am yours.”

“And it chose you.” She nodded and looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Being chosen . . . at the time, I did not think I was worthy.” She turned to face me. “Telling you . . . would have made it seem as if I thought I was, somehow. I didn’t, and still don’t.”

“Well, I do. Allaku obviously thinks so, too, or you would not have been chosen.” She blushed a deeper red. “Don’t be embarrassed, Leander. You are a champion. Embrace and accept it.”

I spoke directly to the blade. “Thank you, Allaku, for choosing Leander, for in choosing her, you help me with my fight as well.”

Instead of answering directly, it flared brightly before subsiding to its usual soft glow. Leander slid it home into its scabbard.

“Well done, milady.”

I shrugged. “A weapon of Allaku’s distinction deserves respect,” I replied. “It is a formidable ally, and we need all of those we can get.”

“Simple truths, Becca, are often the best.”

I reached out and invoked the scrying spell, and a three-foot-wide translucent rendition of the Earth materialized in the center of the living room. All across its face, soft clouds of violet and magenta light showed ambient magic, with flares here and there where sorcery was being wielded by a user who respected the craft and used it appropriately. At the same time, bright red, orange and yellow pinpoints showed areas of suspect magical manipulation that required our attention.

“West, I think,” Leander said tentatively. “Through Nevada and California, then Japan, China and the Pacific Rim?”

“Then Africa.” I nodded, then froze. “Did you say Nevada?”

Leander looked away, and I sighed. “Damn, I HATE working in Nevada.”

“You know the chameleon spell doesn’t have to present us that way,” she pointed out. “It’s your spell, after all.”

“Yes, but it’s designed to hide who we are,” I countered, “and how we present in Las Vegas is about as far from who we are as you can get. I’m reluctant to tamper with something that works so well, but honestly, I do hate appearing that way.”

“It will be fine, Becca.” The former mage-king smiled. “Fortunately, there is a small bit of wisdom that allows one to enter that particular area under your chameleon spell and not feel too badly about how one appears.”

Leander crossed her arms under her breasts and waited.

“And that would be?”

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

She grinned, and I gave her a look.

“You do know I walked into that one on purpose, just so you could say it.”

“I know. You’re so good to me, milady.”

“Oh, hush.”

###

The stacked showgirl huddled in a corner, barely dressed in a gold lamé bikini and strategically-placed feathers. She spoke through sobs that wracked her body, and the fact that her makeup didn’t run from the tears was as much a testament to Reynard Byer’s magical ability, as was her rather remarkable transition from a teenaged boy heckler to a well-endowed magician’s assistant.

“Please let me go! Change me back and let me go home!”

“Oh, but my dear, I’m only giving you the chance to prove that you can be a better magician than I can. That’s what you said, isn’t it? You yelled at me from the audience, calling my tricks ‘lame,’ and insisting you can do better. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded, still crying, and he fairly beamed. “Well, then, ‘Trixie,’ All you have to do to win your freedom is to change yourself back into Ted, right now, and I’ll happily concede that you are the superior magician and let you go!”

“But I can’t! I’m not a magician! I never was!”

“You mean it was all an idle boast?” ‘Trixie’ nodded tearfully, and Byers shook his head. “Oh, my. That’s so sad, since I have no intention of ever changing you back. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you on as my assistant. You’ll have to learn how to do it yourself.”

“You’ll teach me?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Byers replied, reaching down and pulling the girl to her feet. She tottered uncomfortably on her four-inch heels. “Instruction in the dark arts is way too precious a gift to squander on a pretty girl like you. I’m afraid all I have to offer you is room and board, and the opportunity to share my stage every evening and my bed every night.”

The new girl’s jaw dropped. “Your . . . bed? You want me to . . .”

Byers shrugged. “Almost all of the other ‘girls’ I’ve mentored told me they loved how good I was — of course, the ones who didn’t discovered what happens when you’re a bitch to a magician. I think one or two are still birthing puppies today. Canine lives, human life spans.” He sighed. “I really can be a bastard.”

“Oh, on that we can all agree.”

The voice came from the dressing room doorway, and the magician turned to find two stunning women standing there in evening wear that clung to their curves like wet paint, when it wasn’t exposing enough cleavage to get either woman arrested in Poughkeepsie at the turn of the last century — and Byers knew that, because he had been around back then.

The blonde wore a black sheath that left the tops of her breasts tantalizingly bare, sheer black hose and strappy heels easily five inches high. The redhead wore a deep forest green gown with matching shoulder-length gloves and a skirt that exploded into a flurry of ruffles. It flared so much that he could see the tops of her dark green stockings and the straps of her garter belt as they held the stockings in place.

“Ladies!!” Byers said loudly. “What brings such beauty to my door?”

“Your ugliness, Mister Byers,” the redhead replied, her voice not at all what he expected. “Actually, we’re here for Ted. And for you, but not quite the way you hope.”

“There’s no Ted here,” he spoke quickly, casting a quick silencing spell on his victim.

The blonde yawned. “Oh don’t be absurd. You just cast a silence on him so he could not reveal his presence. As if we can’t see the ambient magic from your spell bleeding off of him like heat from a sidewalk in summer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The redhead sighed and looked at him ... no, looked through him, it seemed like ... and then pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to ward off a headache.

“Mr. Byers, I am the Advocate, charged by the Omnipresence with protecting humans who have been preyed upon by magic users like yourself. You have been found guilty of magical abuses on so many counts, I’m amazed you’ve managed to evade notice this long. On the other hand, I’ve only been at this a few months, and you’ve probably been tormenting your last assistant at least that long. Where is she, by the way?”

She stared into his mind again.

“Oh, my.” Her voice was powder dry. “I am so unhappy with what I just saw. This requires some thought before I figure out what to do with you.”

“First things first, though.” The Advocate stepped past the stunned sorcerer to his unwilling victim. She shrank away at first, but the tenderness in the redhead’s eyes stopped her retreat.

“I am so sorry this happened to you, Ted,” she said softly, “but I’ll soon set things right. That’s my job, after all.”

Byers suddenly felt a flash of anger.

‘How dare this woman make promises to undo what I’ve done,’ he raged inside. ‘As if some egotistical witch could ever punish a sorcerer of my caliber!’

As his rage spiked, he tossed a spell at her exposed back, aimed at turning the uppity redhead into a bitch in heat, so she could join Byers last “assistant” on the streets. But instead of enveloping her, it collided with a barrier of some kind that absorbed the energy and brought it inside her somehow. She shuddered, then straightened and turned toward him. As he readied another spell, he felt cold steel on his neck.

“Predictable, as always,” the blonde cooed, with what seemed to be a broadsword held casually in her outstretched hand. “Honestly, you would think someday we would encounter an evil mage who didn’t strike from behind. Cowardly, to the last. And so cliché, don’t you think?”

The redhead turned her head and smiled. “It does tend to make our job easier, though.”

She turned back to the frightened girl.

“Hold still a second, ‘kay?” The woman called the Advocate closed her eyes, and Ted’s form shimmered and coalesced into a skinny dark-haired teenager in jeans and a Rage Against the Machine tee shirt. He looked down at himself, first in shock, then with a huge grin.

“Thank you, whoever you are!” He gave her a tight hug, and the redhead smiled a little sheepishly.

“My pleasure, hon. Glad to help. Can you make it to your hotel room okay?”

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a key card. “I’ll be okay. The ‘rents are probably freaking by now.” Ted hesitated. “But ... what about him? Will you . . . be okay?”

The blonde cleared her throat. “Excuse me? Woman with large sword and short temper here. Don’t worry, Ted, she will be fine.”

He hesitated a moment, not wanting to look like he was running but desperately wanting to all the same. Then he was off through the door like a rabbit with all the hounds of Hell on his heels, and the redhead sighed with relief. One more innocent out of the line of fire.

“Okay, now for the punishment.” The Advocate turned and looked at Byers, and a chill ran through his entire body. “Congratulations! You’re now officially powerless. You couldn’t light a candle, let alone torture some poor child. Welcome to the world of the mundanes, Mister Byers — for the short time you’ll be there as a human.”

After trying several simple spells, the mage realized she was right. All of his accumulated magic was gone, as if it had never been. He was stunned. Who was this woman?

“Now for part two of the punishment. I want you to feel powerless.” She grinned, and there wasn’t anything pleasant about it. “Until you understand the pain you’ve given others ... until you understand why a mage’s power should be used to help innocents and not hurt them ... until you know, deep down inside, what an utterly worthless and vile lump of flesh you’ve been, you will take the place of the woman you threw to the dogs so you could do what you did to Ted.”

Byers froze. ‘She can’t be serious!’ he thought.

The Advocate’s eyes flashed. “I can and am. And this is only the beginning. You already know I can see right through you, right into your soul. So you can’t con me. You can’t trick me into thinking you’ve changed. Because I’ll know. And there’s no time limit. You WILL be a bitch in heat from now until I know for a fact you have learned your lesson — from now until the end of days if you don’t wise up.”

“I may turn you back into a human eventually, if I think that what’s you need to help you finish learning from your mistakes. But until then, you’ll be the play toy of every male dog who picks up your scent.” Her tone softened. “This punishment doesn’t have to be forever, Mister Byers. But it will be unless you learn from what you’ve done.”

“Now I need to start cleaning up your messes, beginning with what you did to your last assistant and working my way backwards. In the meantime ... ” She pointed at him, and her eyes flashed. “Bad dog.”

Reality blinked —

— and Byers was in an alley, quivering motionless on all fours and mounted by a much larger dog. She felt frightened and angry, but at the same time strangely submissive. The male thrust himself into her over and over again, and she stood trapped in his clawed embrace, unable to move. Part of her didn’t want to move, savoring the scratching of the eternal itch inside her that demanded this attention. The other part was horrified at these feelings, and humiliated by her submissiveness after being Master of her world only minutes before.

Her current suitor was finished, and as she waited for his erection to subside and for him to dismount, she raised her head and sniffed. Byers caught the scent of other males nearby, circling the alley opening and waiting for their chance to have her, over and over and over again.

‘Is this what my life is to be from now on?’ she wondered as the horror of it sank in. ‘An endless stream of days spent in filthy alleys, eating garbage and entertaining every male for miles — until she decides I am worthy of being human again? Who is this Advocate to visit such a punishment upon me?’

She imagined this is how Rosalyn felt when she did this to her, and to the ones before her. And suddenly the things Byers had done with her power didn’t seem quite as entertaining as they once were.

In fact, she was already starting to see the flipside of her own cruelty, even as the bitch she had become mourned the loss of the feeling of her last suitor inside her and howled for more.

Now if only dogs could cry as well as they can howl . . .

###

The night continued as Leander and I chased it backward around the globe, ever earlier as we headed west. Mages with evil intent in Japan, China, the Phillipines, New Zealand, Zimbabwe, Italy, France, and the United Kingdom soon learned that there were consequences for their actions, as the Advocate and her champion arrived to save the innocent and deliver justice to the wicked.

I had created the chameleon spell to preserve some semblance of normal life for both of us. Wherever we went, we would appear in a wide range of disguises — all appropriate to the region in which we found ourselves, but always as two women. The small redhead and her sword-wielding blonde companion moved from trouble spot to trouble spot, and wherever we went, justice was served and former realities restored.

But as rewarding as the work was, it was also stressful and demanding, and eight hours was all that I could stand. Eventually the evening ended, bringing me full circle as I left Leander and ported back home for a few more hours of sleep — this time in my own bed for a change.

I was looking for a small slice of normal, and some pleasant dreams to wash away the taste of all the evil I had seen that night. But as I drifted off to sleep, I began to sense something ... a stream of consciousness that was not quite a dream at all.

And sadly, there was little pleasant about it.

###

He felt the ripples in space-time and their aftermath, and it caught His attention because the Multiverse had never behaved so oddly before. A twisting here, a flare of arcane energy there, and suddenly reality experienced a run of subtle reversals that turned His beautiful chaos into hated order once more. The fabric of what was, so deliberately torn asunder by those of evil intent, had been made whole with apparently effortless ease, and the result left Him unsettled, and less powerful than He had been.

It offended Him deeply, because He had never been thwarted so completely before. Life itself was an insult to His work, but a slow and measured one. He accepted the predations of the living upon his domain because He had no choice — and truly, it made His own existence more meaningful to have something to fight against besides the accursed Omnipresence. She used His actions to further Her ends as if He were nothing but another tool, just as She used all living things.

Still, just as She did, He could not act directly, or risk destroying His own plans. As much as He loved uncertainty, it vexed Him to have to cater to its whims. His power craved control, even as it strove for chaos in all things

Still, this new element was ... intriguing. One of those living things He sought to crush and confound — to punish for the audacity of existing — had somehow managed to do the impossible, and undo the work of those who toiled in His service.

Where had this interloper come from? Where did it get such power? Why had it chosen to act now?

And what could He do to stop it?

###

The clock radio popped on with a blare of guitars, and I was wrenched from the other’s thoughts and thrust into reality so quickly that I grabbed the bed to keep from falling.

I sat up and held tight to the side of my mattress, breathing hard and trying to make sense of the threads of what I remembered before they vanished into the morning’s light. Where did it come from? Was it just a nightmare, brought on by the horrors I had witnessed last night, and so many nights before? Or was it another aspect of my power as the Advocate?

I didn’t know for sure, but treating this as just another bad dream was a bad idea.

Somehow, the game had changed, and I needed to find out what the new rules might be before this new player changed them again.

In his favor.

© 2013 as a work in progress, all rights reserved. Posted with permission of the author.

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