The well was large as far as wells went. Almost a yard across with a foot high rim. There wasn't even a road nearby just miles of forest in all directions. Yet the well had been there as long as anybody could remember. A solid structure of dressed grey stone, fitted together so precisely that the mortar was not visible between the interlocked courses. The problem, however was not the wells construction but the sudden lack of water.

The news that the well had gone dry reached Lambford only the previous day. Moreover Lars the tinker reported strange sounds coming from the now dry well. This was reason enough for John and Paul to play hooky from their duties for the day.

John leant on the rim of the well and looked down. Even with the shade of a large oak the shaft was well lit, and clear a good ten yards straight down. he shifted around the rim. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a door down there, cut neat as you please into the stone, "well, the tinkerer was telling the truth, its dry."

"You think there's something down there?" Paul asked without looking up. He'd plonked down at the foot of the oak tree the moment they reached the clearing and showed no inclination to get up.

"Well, there's a door for a start, it's got to lead somewhere," John said, "It'll be a hard climb, good thing we brought enough rope."

"So we're seriously doing this?"

John flicked the mental switch that everybody had, the one that brought up his Character Sheet. For as long as he could remember it had looked the same:

John Greenway, Human villager (M)
Skill: 4/4 Stamina: 8/8 Luck: 7/9 Magic: 0/0
Age: 15 Social class: 1 experience: 10
Talent: None
Special Skills: Climb 1, Craft - Wood 1
Lore: Forest 1, Religion 1, World 1
Languages: Common 4
Equipment: Rusty meat cleaver, torch, firebox, sack
Provisions: 2 Coins: 0gp 0sp

It spoke of a nice safe life on a nice and certain course. he'd get older, learn carpentry from his father and in time take over the family business. Every year on his birthday he gained another two points of experience, by the time he was twenty he'd be able to up his wood craft to level two, which was half way to being a competent carpenter. He frowned, not even trying to hide the expression. "You want to stay a villager all your life?"

The boys looked at each other. It was the path their fathers advised. Adventurers, crazy fools, Mr Greenway would say. They pass though and you never see a single one again. To which Mr Brewster would nod and say, dead in some dungeon eaten by who knows what. Then they'd both gulp their flagons of Mr Brewster's ale. Experience should grow as the gods intended, with time, Mr Greenway would continue. John wasn't convinced. Sure some adventurers died, but then there were the others. The adventurers that everybody sang about, the ones who got their own castles, and didn't have to flatten boards day in and day out.

A carpenter's life was filled with boards that where twisted, cupped or otherwise in need of flattening. John was sick of flattening boards, which was why he was standing at the side of the old well, rather than in his fathers shop. "Here, why don't you get up on that limb, and I'll throw you the rope."

Paul scrambled up the tree, somehow finding cracks he could fit his fingers and toes into on the smooth bark. He stood on the lowest limb and walked out until he was above the well. "Why do I have to do the climbing?"

John threw the rope up, waiting for Paul to tie it fast, before letting the rest of it uncoil down the well. It landed with a dull thud which was reassuring, at least they didn't have to worry about running out of rope before they ran out of well. "So you can show off the point you put into your climbing skill. What a waste."

With a deep breath for courage John swung his legs over the side, grasped the rope with both hands and descended. He bounced down the wall letting the rope slip through his fingers just a little at a time. By the time his feet hit rock again his arms were burning from the strain. The last two yards of stone where a darker grey, proving that they had been wet recently. Between the darker stone, the angle of the sun and the overhanging oak, it was surprisingly dark and sure to get darker still as the day progressed towards evening.

There really was a door down here. Made of green wood clinched together with iron nails which where already rusting. To John's carpenter's eye, it looked new and rather crude. It wouldn't last the year before the boards ripped it apart for twisting. He looked back up the shaft to see Paul's blond head looking down at him, "You coming?"

Paul swung off the branch and onto the rope, making the transfer look almost effortless. He almost slid down the rope, without even touching the side wall, then dropped the last two yards to land in a deep squat.

"Show off," John said, as he fumbled with the torch and his tinder box, striking the iron rod several times before drawing a nice big spark. The pitch soaked torch-head caught with a sizzle and burst into flame.
Paul pull the torch from John's fingers then yanked the door open, releasing it as soon as it was open wide enough to pass through. "Why don't you let me take care of that. This way."

John grabbed the door before it banged against the stone. "Paul you idiot, you just announced our presence, nice."

The passage ran rimwise for three yards before ending with another green wood door. Like the well the passage was dressed stone. John scanned the walls and floor as his friend walked blithely forward. Always check for traps, he'd heard an old adventurer say once when he was deep in his Cup. His father had shaken his head at that, his gaze lingering on the man's peg leg.

"George will be kicking himself when we get back with sacks full of loot." Paul said.

"More treasure for us, and Becca doesn't kill him, what with her almost ready to pop and all." John squatted before the door and pressed his ear against the rough wood. "Now quiet I'm trying to listen."

"I dodged a bullet, when I let George have her."

John sighed and rocked back on his heals, glaring at his friend. "Firstly, Becca said she'd horsewhip you if you came anywhere near her again. Secondly, shut up while I listen at this door, or we'll be here all day."

Paul kicked the door. "We're adventurers not sneak thieves. stealth is for losers."

The door didn't so much open as disintegrate, reverting into a loose pile of boards and bent nails. Beyond it was a rectangular room half filled with smoke from the torches wedged into brackets on the walls. There were three more doors and a pile of old rags in one corner. Paul stepped over the rubble and paced around the room. he poked at the rags with his leather covered toes, "You worry too much, there's nothing here. See"

The rags grunted in response, then the pile exploded scattering scraps of cloth and leather in all directions to reveal two goblins. They were squat, green skinned things with large ears and thin greasy hair. One squealed a warning to its fellow and jumped to its feet brandishing a blade even rustier than John's.

The second jumped up almost as fast with a stream of unintelligible bellows and grunts. Whatever he said, there was no doubt that he was male, it sounded rude. Before John realised it, the two goblins had Paul backed into a left rear corner of the room.
"A little help here." Paul called, his voice rising as he flailed with the flaming torch.

John unhitched his cleaver and lunged forward at the goblin on the left.

The goblin turned at the last moment meeting his swing with the flat of his blade. Metal clanged on metal jarring John's arm to the shoulder. The handle turned in his hand, and slipped free, sending the heavy blade tumbling towards his foot.

John yelped in surprise and jumped to keep his feet clear of the falling knife. "Shit!"

The goblin chuckled and circled to John's right, placing itself between him and the door to the outside. Before he realised it he was beside Paul again and the pair of them were boxed in the corner as the goblins traded quibs in there bestial tongue.

"Hit him with the damn torch!" John yelled.

Paul listened for a change, shoving the torch at the goblin on the right and getting the flames into his face. While the thing swatted at it with its sword, John ducked behind his friend and shoulder charged the nearest door, it also shattered. He ran, paying no heed to where he stepped. "This way!"

The short passage was not booby-trapped, or if it was John and Paul avoided whatever pressure plate may have triggered their doom. A few steps brought John to yet another door. Adventuring seemed to consist of opening a lot of doors. Unlike the others, this one was blackened with age and far more solid. Nobody was going to open this door with one kick. An iron bolt, red with rust, had been slid through several eye holes in the wood and into the stone frame, sealing it closed. To make sure it stayed closed someone had wedged a long wooden staff against the end of the bolt.

John pawed at the staff and got it dislodged after two sharp tugs. He spun around in time to see that Paul had managed to follow him and was keeping the goblins at bay. A notification appeared, floating in mid air between him and the approaching goblins.

SPECIAL ITEM FOUND, NEW CLASS AVAILABLE.

Accept, accept, accept John thought without scanning the rest. Any class would be better than villager right now. The notification dissolved with a sharp DING that onlyJohn could hear. He shifted forward, moving up Paul's left, well clear of the torch and thrust with the staff.

One of the goblins had just ducked that way to avoid Paul's swing. Wood met flesh with an audible thwack. The goblin tilted back pinwheeling its arms for a moment before falling onto what remained of the door. John pulled the staff back and readied it for another swing.

DING.

A wave of vertigo consumed him. Notifications flashed through his mind too fast to read. It reminded him of the morning after last year's harvest festival when he, Paul and George had got a bottle of Mr Brewster's triple distilled special. They shared the bottle until all three of them passed outC come morning John had wished he were dead.

DING.

The lead goblin grunted again, only now the noises made sense. "lunch is fighting back, I hate it when lunch fights back."

"Shut up and get them," the other one replied.

John's intestines twisted. He heaved, spraying vomit across the floor. Some of it flew far enough to hit the two goblin's feet. He staggered toward the wall, holding the staff up in a basic blocking position.

"lunch doesn't look so good, maybe we shouldn't eat that one?"

"A little spit roasting will cure 'im"

New ideas flashed through John's mind, one after another. Annise wasn't just for making bread taste awful, you could make a general cure for poison out of it, who knew? It was very useful information, for some other time. A litany of short sharp phrases and sights kaleidoscoped though his brain. He seized on one, and stepped forward again, using the staff to hold Paul back, while he pointed at the goblins. "HOT!"

Energy surge through him, drawing from every point in his body and shooting down his outstretched arm. His hand glowed for just a moment, then flames licked out of his palm. A ball of flame filled the doorway, engulfing both goblins. They screamed and then fell silent, collapsing to the ground.

For a moment John couldn't breathe, his heart stuttering almost to a stop before starting up again. He leaned back against the wall gasping for breath. The goblins didn't appear to be a concern anymore. John poked them with the staff, then hit one in the jaw. He thrust the staff down several times until the bone shattered. He squatted down and extracted an intact molar from the mess he had made.

"John, what the hell." Paul said.

John shrugged as he stowed the molar in his empty coin pouch." Goblins teeth are useful, I can use it to summon an ally later. Wait how do I know that?"

John's body was sending him strange messages. Everything felt wrong. his feet slipped inside his shoes and his britches seemed on the verge of falling off. The skin of his hand looked pale, almost creamy in the firelight, rather than sun-kissed brown that it had been that morning.

Paul just stared, the torch hanging from his right hand. The flames already scorching the handle and moving ever closer to his fingers. "Damn. how did you do that?"

"I don't know, I got a notification when I picked up this staff. Also you're about to burn your hand." John said, looking down at the staff, only it didn't look like a staff any more. One end had sprouted a rim of coarse bristles and making it look rather like a broomstick.

Paul dropped the torch, it rolled up against the wall and continued to burn. He Ignored it and reached for the broomstick. "Here, let me see."

The broomstick bucked as a bright blue spark arced from the wood to Paul's hand. He jumped away shaking the hand like it was on fire. "Oh hilarious, that hurt. Now give me a look."

"I didn't do nothing." John said, his voice sounded high and without the burr he'd grown into over the last couple of years. By the gods, what was going on? He closed his eyes and played back the notifications he had ignored. The gods did not like being ignored.

NEW CLASS AVAILABLE: WITCH?

CLASS ACCEPTED.

CONFLICT DETECTED, WITCH CLASS ONLY OPEN TO FEMALE CARACTERS, ALTER CHARACTER GENDER?

GENDER CHANGE ACCEPTED.

ACHIVEMENT UNLOCKED: AN ADVENTURER IS YOU. AUTO ALLOCATE ADVENTURER PACKAGE?

AUTO ALLOCATION ACCEPTED.

ALL POINTS ALLOCATED.

John's eyes shot open. The sensations he was feeling now made sense. The smoother creamy skin, the way his hair brushed against his shoulders. and how his chest seemed to be moving out of time with the rest of him. He willed his character sheet to appear.

Jane Greenway, Human Witch (F)
Skill: 6/6 Stamina: 8/12 Luck: 6/9 Magic: 4/4
Age: 15 Social class: 4 experience: 12
Talent: focus (broomstick)
Special Skills: Awareness 1, Armour 1, Climb 2, Staves 2
Languages: common 4, goblin 1
Lore: World 1, Forest 2, Herb 2, Religion 1
Magic Skills: Sorcery 2, Second Sight 1
Equipment: Wood witch's Broomstick (focus, staff, ZEN)
Provisions: 2 Coin: 0gp 0sp

"I'm a witch." she said, remembering every dire warning about adventuring that her father had ever uttered. Gender change wasn't on the list. Well if nothing else she would give her father a new cautionary tale. That's when it hit her, not only wasn't she a villager anymore, but she wasn't a carpenter either, everything John had learned about woodwork was just gone. Sure she still knew that a sliding dovetail was a kind of joint, but she had no clue how to cut one, even if John had cut one just yesterday.

"You look funny," Paul said, "I think you've shrunk, and your voice."

"I'm a Witch. and witches are girls, everybody knows that!" she said shaking the broomstick. "This damn thing turned me into a girl, what am I going to do."

"Get naked by the look of it, your britches are slipping."

Jane grabbed at her britches and yanked them back up. After a few moments of struggling, she gave up and retied the rope she used as a belt, having to pull it several inches tighter before it felt snug about her waist again. She adjusted her shoes next, being little more than leather sacks, tied together with cord, it was easy enough, though it would take a while for the leather to adapt to her smaller feet. "My dad will kill me when we get back."

The broomstick remained where she had left it, hovering in mid air, without so much as a wobble. Cool, she thought. Her father and his pending disappointment could wait for later, so could freaking out. Right now she had a dungeon to explore. She grabbed the broomstick from the air and flipped it over, before catching it with the bristles pointing down. "Stop staring at my chest and let's go."

Authors note:

part 1 got several ninja edits after I posted it. These are as follows:

1. John's starting skill is 4, not 6
2. Becca threatened to horsewhip Paul herself. She didn't mention her father.
3. When Paul tried to grab the broom, it zapped him not John.

And now part 2

Jane sat with her head resting on the bar top. It was an impressive piece of timber, half a foot thick and two feet and change across, dividing the room in two. On one side Grom the dwraven barkeep nursed his kegs of mead and ale, and on the other Jane sat, on a stool beside a pewter flagon of Moon Mead.

Jane rubbed her eyes with her palms. The skin was sticky with dried tears. It itched, no matter how much she rubbed. Having no hankey she snorted to clear her nose and let her head fall, head-butting the bar top. She'd cried more in the last hour than John had in years. Other than that time he had hit his thumb with a hammer when his dad had put him straight back to work the day after Harvest festival. That had been a bad day but since then there wasn't a single bout of crying that he could remember.

She looked up at Grom, but saw no solutions in his youthful face. He was pretty handsome for a dwarf, his brick red hair and beard divided into thin neat braids which cascaded down his chest and over his shoulders. The mass of hair made him look larger than he really was but failed to make him at all imposing. Somehow he still looked like the kind of person one could spill their deepest fears too.

"I am so doomed," Jane said, punctuating each word by bouncing her head off the bar top again.

"Come now lass, it can't be that bad?" Grom said, giving her a broad smile. "Now drink that right up. It will put the bounce back in your step."

She sipped the Moon Mead. It had a curious taste, much smoother than the mead that Mr Brewster made back in Lambford. Him and that no good rotten son of his that she wasn't going to think about. "So why do you call this Moon Mead?"

"Highland black bees, they're nocturnal and feed on evening primrose, moonflower and night phlox," Grom said.

She waited, expecting to him to crack up in laughter at any moment but the Dwarf remained straight faced. She held a drop of Mead on her tongue, rolling it about to capture all the subtle herbal flavours. "There's Caraway in this isn't there? I've never had Mead with Caraway before."

"I'll admit that much Lass, but ask me no more." Grom smiled and patted the keg behind him with one hand. "'tis an old recipe from the foothills of the Rimwolds. I learned from an Alin master brewer many years ago,"

She took another sip of Mead. It was the most invigorating thing she had ever drunk. Far from making her senses fuzzy, like beer was want to do, it heightened them until everything in the bar room seemed to to glow. When she's staggered into Grom's bar room her stamina had been hovering at one point, she'd even gotten an achievement notification from it. Mostly Dead was not something to brag about. Now her stamina was halfway full again at six points.

Finding a tavern in the middle of a dungeon was surreal, now that she thought about it. The whole place must have been flooded until recently but here it was. Sure the walls were the same dressed stone as the rest of the place, but how did Grom get all this stuff down here so fast. There were a half dozen kegs, each larger than the dwarf. Heck, the bar top alone had to weigh a ton. More to the point why? Why would anyone open a Tavern in the middle of a dungeon under an old well?

"Grom, I was wondering. Why did you pick such an out of the way place to open a tavern?" she said looking at the empty room over one more time.

"Oh, it does alright, you'd be surprised, the place can get so frantic I near loose me head. It can. Now, what's got you so down lass?"

She looked up at him, fighting back tears, she took a sip of the Moon Mead, and swallowed. It had a curious taste. "I've forgotten everything, when my father finds out his going to kill me."

"Come now, a pretty girl like you, must have her old man wrapped about her little finger."

"That's just it, I'm not a girl, at least I wasn't till I came down here. My old man is expecting his son to show up and help in the wood shop. Old Reems has himself a new bride, coming up from Campton Flats and wants the whole place done up real smart." she said between mouthfuls of Mead then thumped the end of the broom against the floor. "I had to go adventuring and find a god damn magic broom. Why couldn't it have been a sword? I can't even remember which end of a plane to hold."

Grom took her now empty flagon and refilled it from the keg behind him. "Sounds like you've had an eventful day, could do with another round I'd say."

Jane patted at her rope belt where her coin pouch wasn't. "I, don't have any coin at the moment. Not since that no good. I can trade you some mudcups."

He slid the flagon across the bar anyway and shrug his shoulders, "Eh, have another on me. So its boy trouble is it? Thought it might be."

"Yes, well I wasn't fool enough to go adventuring all on my own. You got to have someone to watch your back. I had Paul, or thought I did until that Ogre showed up."

The dwarfs eyebrows rose until they disappeared under his braids. "There's an Oger down here? Where did I put that battleaxe?"

She shrugged and picked up the flagon draining a quarter of the liquid in one gulp. "I best start at the beginning. See we'd been in our first fight, and I fireballed two goblin thugs. They wanted to eat us if you can believe it."

* * *

Jane pulled back the bolt and opened the next door. The room on the other side was circular and far taller and deeper than the passageway. There was no sign of a floor nor a ceiling, just stone walls disappearing into shadow. "We're going to need a new torch."

"I'll get one." Paul replied, leaving at a jog.

Well, that was strange, what had gotten into Paul all of a sudden? At some point a bridge had spanned the space connecting their door to another one on the far side. Now most of the bridge was gone, leaving only a narrow ledge on either side, with a sizable gap in between.

Jane stood out on the ledge, measuring the gap. It didn't look jumpable to her. Stranger still, the walls where glowing. Or no not quite glowing but highlighted as if some kind of energy covered them, flickering along the seams in the stone work.

"I can jump that." Paul said, holding a new torch in one hand and one of the goblin short swords in the other.

"It's the landing that has me worried." she pointed at the further ledge, "That ledge is only a foot wide. I think I can get us across. Give me a moment."

She rifled though the new knowledge in her brain, consciously ignoring the herbalism to focus on sorcery. She knew a floating spell, but it required a jewelled medallion, which would cost more than her father earned in a year.

The broom vibrated in her hand, and her thoughts circled back to the floatation spell. She looked at the shaft. over the dark brown of the old wood, lines of green force seemed to flow and shift, highlighting the grain."You are not a medallion, and there are certainly no jewels about you."

She looked from the broom to Paul, "I'm talking to a stick, can this get any more ridiculous."

He shrugged, and raise the torch higher, trying to chase away the shadows above their heads. It didn't help. The light ended about two feet above the door and would go no higher, no matter how much he waved the torch.

Jane turned, ready to double back and try another door, but the broom refused to move no matter how much she tugged. "I'm stuck."

"So leave the broom and let's go." Paul said.

She tried to release the broom but her fingers wouldn't uncurl from the wood. She tugged at it several times. The broom remained fixed in place, even though it was in mid air, and her hand remained stuck to the shaft. Jane glared at the broom and mentally reviewed the spell. "You want me to waste my stamina? Fine, lets waste some stamina."

This time when she moved her hand the broom followed as if it where a perfectly ordinary cleaning implement. She held it like a cock horse with the bristles pointed back and the shaft almost level with the ground. She Ignored Paul's chortle, instead she focused on her life force and intoned the word of power. "ZEN."

The drain on her stamina was nowhere near as bad as the fireball had been. Still it left her breathing as hard as running up Lambs hill. Her feet left the ground. She was floating balanced on the broom and bobbing up and down.

She lent forward, and the broom moved into the circular room until they were clear of the ledge. A few moments of experimentation and she had the gist. Even the slightest shift in her weight made the stick move in whatever direction she was leaning. Careful not to let her feet touch the ground she floated back until she was beside Paul. "Pass the torch, I want to check something out."

Torch in hand, Jane floated out and up. Girl and broom rose, rotating slowly to scan the entire room. The walls continued unbroken on all sides, then just as the bridge disappeared into shadow below her, another bridge emerged from the shadows above.

It was the same bridge and there was Paul, leaning against the doorframe. He was staring up into the shadows. "John, Hello, where did you go? Come on This isn't funny."

Jane floated her broom higher, skirting the wall until she was behind her friend. "Boo!"

He jumped, releasing a high-pitched yelp, and fell backwards into the passageway, ending up sitting on the floor. "What the hell? How did you sneak back down?"

She gave Paul a wide grin as she manoeuvred back towards the door, her feet almost, but not quite, touching the platform. Something told here that touching the ground with her feet would end the spell. "Sorry couldn't resist. The room's magic it wraps around. Now take this back and Jump on behind me."

Paul slipped the short sword into a loop in his belt and then took the torch and got onto the broom, grabbing Jane for balance.

He was being strangely cooperative, and uncomfortably close now that she thought about it. "If you don't move your hands lower, I'm going to break your fingers, then I'll drop you." she hissed between clenched teeth.

Jane willed the broom forwards, crossing the shaft. The broom wobbled under the extra weight and moved a little slower but they made it across.

"John, Can I ask you a question?" Paul said as he slipped off again. "When you said the stick turned you into a girl, did you mean all the way?"

"Yes, all the way, my character sheet says my name is Jane now."

"Are you sure? you don't need to check?"

"No I don't need to check." she snapped, "I'm all girl, now open the damn door so I can land."

The far side of the door revealed yet another stone passage, except this one curved to the right as they ventured onwards. Paul, who was in the lead at the moment, stopped "Hay, how come we didn't get any experience?"

"I sort of did." Jane said.

"What! No fair you got a class, and experience and here I am being the torchbearer."

Jane shrugged. "It could be because I killed the goblins, and you didn't even wound them."

her shoulders sagged, "Oh god, I killed goblins. I mean sure I know they were trying to kill us but, they're like intelligent and stuff and I killed them."

* * *

Jane shivered at the memory and pushed the half empty flagon of Moon Mead away from her. "You know, adventuring isn't what I expected, Its trudging through corridors, opening doors and killing things. I was expecting something more heroic."

Grom made a clicking sound with his tongue. He slid the Mead back over to her. "Vile creatures goblins, you did good dispatching those vermin. You said something about an Oger?"

Jan drained her second flagon, and thumped it on the bar, "I'm getting there," she said. "Anyway there we were me and that worthless torchbearer, when we came to, you guessed it another door."

* * *

It was another door, the wood dark with age. signing for Paul to stay quiet she got down on her knees and pressed her ear to the crack beneath it.

She could hear the thud of her own heart, the crackle of Paul's torch, the shuffle of Paul's shoes on the stone and the long sigh he made as he waited. "Well I don't hear anything other than you fidgeting."

Paul stood, motionless, save for his buffed out cheeks as he made a show of holding his breath.

With a deep breath of her own, Jane turned the door handle and pushed.

The room on the other side was lit by a single candle. It stood on a table along the far wall, along with a gold chalice and a leather-bound book. The book lay open, about half way through. It almost looked like someone had been there a moment ago.

They watched the tabula, for several breaths. "Paul, look at the candle."

"It's lit, so what?"

Jane stepped into the room, tapping the floor with the end of her broom. "It is, and it isn't. Sure there's a flame, but the wax isn't melting. Its magic, the chalice and the book too I'd wager."

"Still, smells like wax." Paul said, joining her in the centre of the room. "Finally some loot. I call dibs on the chalice."

She moved over to the table, glancing at the book. It drew her like a lantern drew in a moth. There was power here. the book buzzed with it. She placed her finger on the first line and whispered the first word. Jane read, whispering the words under hear breath as her finger moved along the line of ornate letters. It reminded her of the fireball spell, only bigger. Much, much bigger.

"Hay there's wine in the chalice." Paul said. "If it's magic it'll still be good right?"

Jane ignored him, as her lips kept moving, now forming the words halfway down the page. With a force of will she snapped her eyes shut. The compulsion to keep reading flared though her mind. She fought it down, running her finger across the page instead. The book resisted being closed, the cover almost shivering between her fingers. "Gods, it almost got me."

The cover of the book was a pale, almost pink leather, with a pattern inked into it in shades of blue black and green. It looked like a trident spearing a serpent. No not a serpent, an eel.

"What?" Paul said through a mouthful of wine.

Jane grabbed for the Chalice even though it was obviously too late. The idiot was drinking magic wine without any clue what it might do. "Where you always this stupid."

Paul lifted the chalice higher with a grin on his face.

Jane jumped after it, her fingers just brushing Pauls wrist. "Damn it, your taller than me."

"So?"

Heat rose to her cheeks and her vision blurred. She gave up jumping and stormed away from Paul. She scanned the rest of the room. There were two more exits. One door was to their left, the other next to the table. "Gods, I can't believe I'm shorter than you now."

"Calm down," Paul said, " it's no big deal. We'll sell the chalice and split it fifty fifty."

"No big deal?" She said, her voice getting louder with every word. "I've got boobs and I'm short and I'm going to have to squat to pee. I don't know how to be a girl!"

She was crying now, hot tears streaming down her face, arms held against her sides. Her hands curled into fists so tight that the nails bit into her palms.

Paul put the chalice down with a thump, the wine sloshed about it almost spilling. He pulled Jane towards him. "I'm sorry Jo, Jane, I'll help you get through this. I mean we've been mates forever haven't we?"

Jane let him hug her. She didn't know why but she did. His linen shirt felt rough under her cheek as she moved closer and rested her face against his shoulder. Somehow it made it easier to breathe. Paul was still her friend, and he had his hands on. Jane took two slow breaths, in and out and in and out again. She was not going to knee him in the balls, not if she stayed calm. "Paul?"

"Yea?"

"Get your hands off my butt."

They broke from the embrace. Jane retrieved her broom. She turned to the door on the left. If they kept following the left-hand path, they could explore this place in some kind of order "I can't believe it, I've been a girl for less than a glass, and you're already trying to feel me up!"

Paul picked up the chalice again. "you should try this, it's very refreshing."

"No, I don't want any wine. We are in the middle of a dungeon. This no time to get drunk."she said. "Where you always such a . . ."

He drained the chalice and packed it away in one of the sacks they'd brought to carry loot in. "What?"

Jane's mouth opened and closed, making her looks somewhat like a fish about to take the bait. She didn't know why she would even think it, and yet the thought was there and she had to let it out. "Such a boy!"

"I thought you where upset at being a girl, and here you are telling me how much better girls are. You and Becca will have to compare notes. Now lets go explore, this way." Paul said his smile growing wider and wider with every word. He passed the table, looking at the magic book. Jane thought he was going to take it, which would be stupid, but he left it there and reached for the right-hand door instead.

"I think we should go left."

Paul pulled his chosen door open and stepped through it into the next room "what's the difference. One door is as good as another."

This room was choked with webbing so dense that Jane could not see the walls as she followed him inside. A shiver ran down the back of her neck. She moved the broom into a fighting hold, noticing in passing that the bristles had disappeared again turning it into a quarterstaff. "I'm not liking this room Paul."

"Not much here, maybe there are more doors behind all these cobwebs."

Movement caught Jane's eye. Something large and dark was shifting along the ceiling, making the webs ripple as it moved over the stonework. She looked up to see a spider. Its body was at least two feet long and its legs, spread out even further, thick and hairy. It stopped, hanging directly over Paul's head.

She backed up towards the door they had entered through, "Um Paul, Spider!"

Then everything happened at once. Paul looked up and screamed like a girl. The spider dropped, hissing as it flipped through the air its fangs angling towards Pauls face. Jane lunged, hitting the spider mid fall and knocking it away from Paul.

Droplets of yellow venom sprayed across the room sizzling where they met the webbing. The spider emitted a plaintive shriek, curled up into a ball and went still. A symphony of similar shrieks answered from every corner of the room. One spider appeared out of nowhere and sunk its fangs into Paul's foot, making him scream again.

Jane moved a fraction too late, swinging her staff in a low arc, that dislodged it and sent it sprawling into the webbing. She grabbed Paul by his arm and dragged him towards the door, without turning her back on the room. "Don't drop the torch, we need it."

Paul fumbled with his torch, catching several strands of webbing with the head. The webbing caught and burned with a hot blue flame which spread from strand to strand.

They were at the door again. Jane shoved Paul away from her and took up a defensive stance. She could make out at least three more spiders edging towards her. They loomed large before the bright blue flames consuming the room. It made it easier to see the buggers. One darted forward, and she met it with a thrust of her staff, then reversed it to batt another that was coming in along the wall.

"Door Closing." Paul yelled.

She jumped back just before the door swung through the space she had occupied and slammed shut. Paul followed, jamming it closed with his shoulder and grunting with the pain.

Jane fell in beside him as the structure shook. acrid smoke drifted through the cracks around the door making them both cough. The pressure on the door eased long enough for the latch to catch, sealing the spiders with in.

Paul straightened and retrieved the torch form where he had dropped it, fortunately the flame hadn't spread down the handle this time, and the head was still burning. "OK, door on the left it is."

"Paul, it bit you," she said, looking at her friend with wide eyes. "How do you feel, the venom?"

the Leather on Paul's left shoe had two fang sized holes and yet he crossed the room with no sign of it causing him pain. "I'm fine, lets go."

She grabbed his empty hand and tugged him back away from the unexplored door."Please let me check your foot."

"And then what?" he said shaking her off, "We didn't bring bandages, or anything. hell we didn't bring water or food come to that. What good is looking going to do? I'm fine, lets go."

With that Paul opened the other door, more slowly this time, and waved his torch into the passageway beyond. "Let's go left, just like you said."

"Boys," she said under her breath making the word a curse. Not wanting to be left behind she followed her friend into the next part of the dungeon and whatever death awaited them. A moment later she ran back into the room and grabbed the magic candle holder off the table. "Paul, wait up."

The passage was damp. Lychen covered the walls and matts of drying green scum covered the floor. The air was heavy with the earthy smells of rot and mildew.

Jane wend around the worst of it until she caught up to Paul. He stood at a junction. The corridor they were in continued to the right, but the left wall had been breached, opening the way into a natural cave. "Which way, oh fearless leader?"

Jane closed her eyes and extended her new magical senses. The air flowing from the natural caves felt alive. There was an undercurrent of magic flowing over the stone. After walking through lifeless corridors it drew her. "I never claimed to be the leader." She said. "though this whole trip was my idea. I say we keep going left."

"Ladies first," Paul said doing an intricate bow and swishing the torch.

The floor here was uneven, the stone interspersed with patches of scree and mud. There were mushrooms everywhere, from tiny one smaller than Jane's pinky to some of the largest she had ever seen.

Names and properties trickled through Jane's head. What made it surreal was that none of this knowledge had been there yesterday. Sure mum had taken John mushrooming when he was little but they had always stuck to a few common variaties. Now she knew the bone white mushroom with the green tinge under the head was toxic, while its neighbour was just unpleasant, with a taste like old cabbage.

She picked her way forward, hunting for dry footing in the flickering candle light. Damn Paul for keeping the torch. "Careful for the purple ones, they explode if you get too close. Ooh mudcaps."

They were growing in a wide swath just past the clump of purple globe fungus. Though not much to look at, the plain brown mushrooms had several uses. She could get a good price if she could find somebody to buy them.

"You're picking Mushrooms now? What if they're poisonous?" Paul said.

Jane crouched in the mud and twisted the mature mushrooms out of the mycelium mat. There were enough for three doses of strength potion. "They're not, but those ones over there would kill you, painfully. These are quite hearty. Unless I can find madder, maybe Druid Starskie will trade me some."

"Since when do you know so much about mushrooms?"

Jane got up and dusted the knees of her britches, or at least the spot where her knees now were. "Since I became a witch. I got two points in Herbalism and two points in Forest Lore."

"This is a cave not a forest." Paul said.

Jane stowed her mushrooms in her loot sack. They continued in silence.

The passage angled upwards and broadened out to fifteen feet. The walls were more irregular and moist here, the limestone coming down in rippling sheets. Shadows danced about them taking the forms of lions, bears and other frightening beasts.

Jane shivered and kept her gaze on the ground where the shadows where not so suggestive. Paul would laugh his ass off if he realised how freaked out she was. "Just my imagination," she muttered under her breath.

"You say something?"

"I'm sorry for dragging you here unprepared. You're right we should have provisions, and equipment and potions."

Paul chuckled, "if we waited for that we'd never get out of Lambford. It's not like either of us get paid."

Up ahead the stone on the left opened up into a side passage. Jane followed it. It only ran for ten feet or so before turning sharply to the right and ending in a small room. She looked over her shoulder, "Paul, I need to pee, why don't you go back to the main passage and wait there."

"We should stick together," Paul said, "never split the party, it's what every adventurer that comes through dad's tavern says."

She glared at him, hopping from foot to foot. "It's a dead end. I'll be perfectly safe but if I catch you watching, I'll turn you into a frog."

"As if I'd want to watch someone pee." Paul said then stomped away, swinging the torch with each step.

She placed the candle on a small ledge on the wall, then loosened her britches. That would not work. With a loud sigh she stepped out of them entirely. It took a moment to find a comfortable position, squatting facing the wall, so she could use it for balance.

"Are you done yet?" Paul called from the main cave.

Done yet? She hadn't even started. The awareness of how much things had changed was distracting. She tried to release her bladder, but it only made the pressure worse, was she aiming the right way? Should she move her butt higher, or lower? The nerve of that boy. "You try peeing after getting all your bits changed."

The limestone wall was quite fascinating. She'd picked a spot where a miniature cave had formed with tiny stalactites and stalagmites intertwining like a toothy maw. Jane focused on the intricacies of how the stone had dripped and formed over countless years.

Her bladder released. She had to twist her hips to keep the stream from wetting her shoes. Worse yet, it left her feeling uncomfortably wet down there, no matter how she squirmed trying to shake things dry. She gave it up and stepped back into her britches and tied them in place.

Back in the main cave, Paul was standing in guards pose, legs together, back stright. The Torch held stright up in his left hand, and his right resting on the pomel of his short sword. He didn't so much as blink when she approached, his eyes remaining on the far wall of the passage. Not that she could have followed through with her threat. If there was a sorcery to turn someone into a frog, she didn't know it.

They resumed their exploration. The passage ended in a wide cavern. On the left the wall curved inwards broken by a rough hewn stairway heading up. On the right the wall fell away, opening into a chasm that disappeared beyond the reach of her candle or Paul's torch.

Jane stood as near the edge as she dared. The air here was colder, carrying a hint of winter and echoed with the sound of water tumbling over stone. Was it Alf the sacred river, or only some minor tributary? Whichever it was, the chasm offered no safe way to descend. "We go up, I guess."

Paul gestured for her to proceed. The stairs where slippery at first but grew drier as they ascended, Jane still in the lead. With every step the air grew fouler. At first it was just a hint but grew worse as they climbed. When they reached the top. the passageway stank like an over full leech pit.

like the stairs the landing was cut square, the limestone left marred with deep gouges. There was a single doorway, covered with a heavy curtain of raw hide.

Placing her feet toe first to make as little noise as possible, Jane edged along the left wall. She pushed the edge of the hide aside until she could see past it.

The room on the other side was large, twenty feet across and twice as long. It may have started as a naturual cave but the corneres had been worked square. Clusters of glowing crystal where spaced evenly along the eaves, they filled the space with a pale greenish light. A heavy door spanned the entire spinward end of the room. Made of black metal it reflected the crystal glow like spilt oil.

Three heavy grates marked cells along the far wall. The cell imediatly accross from her was empty, but she couldn't see into the other two. The cavern floor was covered in balding animal hides, there was also a crude table made of split logs hammered together with long iron nails, several stumps that could be used as seats, and a bedroll, sized for somthing much larger than a man.

Jane pushed through the curtain. The hide swelched under her feet. A cocaroch, at least two inches long slipped from beneath it and scuttled away. The smell was even worse here, and now that she was fully inside jane could see why.

The corner to her left was piled high with bones and excrement. A human skull had rolled out of the pile and lay propped against the wall, staring sightlessly back at her.

Jane shivered at the sight. She'd only ever seen one other skull before, Druid Starskie kept it on the highest shelf in his medicine hut. Becca told her that he had conversations with it. This skull was different. At some point it had been struck hard enough to leave the bone splintered right accross the top. What ever lived here was a killer.

As if in response to her thoughts the broom shivered in her hand, the bristles retracting. Its battle mode looked formidable. It wasn't just the lack of bristles but the knots that rose to the surface in just the right places. On a more mundane weapon iron rings would have been added at the same points.

She turned left, casting her eyes over the bedroll, if you could call it that. Really it was just a pile of hides maybe a dozen deep, four feet wide and eight feet long, and crawling with a virtual swarm of insects.

The shadows in the leftmost cell shifted, someone was crying. It was a soft, keening sound that went on and on. Jane's heart lurched. She clutched at Paul's free hand, "There's somebody here, in the cell."

"There's keys by the curtain, I'll get them," he whispered back.

Jane continued towards the far cell, while Paul went for the keys. She could see the prisoner now. Curled up at the very back of the cell was a naked woman, her skin pale and her body so thin that her ribs stuck out beneath her arms. She sat on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chest and her head down.

Jane pulled at the cell door. To her surpirse it swung open, she didn't need the keys after all. She placed the candle near the wall where it would be out of the way and slipped into the cell. "Hay there, can we help you?"

The girl at the back of the cell shivered but didn't move from her corner. She must have heard her, so why was she just sitting there? Jane froze in the centre of the cell. Something was off. The cell was clean, well cleaner than the room outside and the door had been wide open. So why wasn't the girl escaping?

The girl against the back wall uncurled and lurched towards Jane. Her body may have looked human, but her face did not. The eyes where wide and bright red, the jaw extended to accommodate the long and pointed teeth of a predator.

Jane moved without thinking, swinging her staff up to meet the creatures charge, striking it under the jaw hard enough to lift it clean off it's feet.

"Jane, don't hurt her" Paul called from behind her.

She backed out of the cell, eyes unblinking as she watched the creature. It lay in a heap against the wall, playing dead most likely. "It's not human, some kind of ghoul. See if you can find a key for this door."

The keys clanged as Paul tried them one after another in the lock, muttering under his breath when they failed to fit. The fifth key fit and turned with a squeal of rusted metal. "Got it."

Jane breathed deeply, glad to be out of the cell, and gagged on the stench. "Let's get out of here."

"Are you sure that's not a human girl? She looks normal enough."

The Ghoul moved, jumping up with a snarl, its red eyes focusing on them though the bars. It jumped, then kicked the wall lauching itself accross the cell. The latch on the door gave way with a loud snap. The ghoul dropped to the floor the moment the door swung open.

Jane sidestepped, holding a guard up with one hand as she fiddled with her coin pouch with the other, pulling out the goblin tooth. "Still look normal to you?"

Paul had sidestepped the other way, meaning that the thing couldn't attack one of them without turning its back on the other. Perhaps they were learning, Jane thought as it turned to face Paul.

The tooth between two fingers, Jane settled her mind. There was a pattern to doing sorcery. until now she had followed every step of centring and calling up life force, but there was no time. She said another word of power, "GOB!"

As stamina flowed from Jane to the tooth, it vibrated and grew. She flicked it away, then grasped her staff with both hands and swung it at the back of the ghoul's knee.

It hit with the crunch of cracking bone. The Ghoul screamed. Paul feinted with the torch, making the ghoul dodge right, then came in with his short sword.

The sword dug into the ghoul's neck, severing muscle and tendon until it came to rest against its spine. Black ichor sprayed from the wound.

Jane backed away to avoid the noxious stuff. Beside her the tooth inflated, turning darker as it filled. Once the transformation was complete, a Golbin stood in its place, dressed in leather rags and clutching a rusty short sword. It squealed wordlessly and rushed into the fray, hacking at the other side of the Ghoul's neck.

The monster's spine parted with a sickening squelch, and the head tumbled to the ground. Its body twitched twice as if to strike out with its claws and then also fell.

"Well that was a waste of Stamina." Jane said, kicking at the ghoul to make sure it was dead. It shook form the contact but showed no signs of life, or was that unlife? Jane wasn't sure.

Paul circled the goblin which now stood at ease, a few feet away from Jane. Its passivity was a testament that despite appearances it was not a real goblin. A real goblin would have been sniffing at its environment, but this one didn't move, not even when Paul poked it with his finger. "Neat, you should name it."

"No point, it will disappear soon." she said, heading towards the next cell. It looked empty, but now that they were here a through search was prudent.

Paul marched over to the goblin and tapped it on sholders with the flat of his sword. "I dub thee Bob, slayer of Ghouls. He doesn't get the experience does he?"

Jane shook her head and went back to searching the cell. At least there was no sign of another ghoul. If something was hiding in the straw it had to be small. "Don't name it, you'll get attached. It's my construct so any experience it gets goes to me."

Her staff had sprouted bristles again. She used it to move the dirty straw out of the way, just in case there was something worth taking hidden in there. She saw the first coin moments later. "Hay Paul, their's coins under the straw!"

He rushed into the cell and started scattering straw in all directions as he searched the other side of it.

"Bob, hold the door open" Jane said, pointing at the goblin. Great she thought, why did Paul have to name it? Now she was going to feel sorry when it disipated.

Jane squatted down, and ran her hands beneath the strew, pulling out two more coins. Then her hand landed on a length of chain. It moved, undulating like a snake. Then a loop of it caught about her wrist and pulled her towards the wall.

Jane tried to pull away, but her hand would not come free. While she was wrestling with it another length of chain coiled out of the straw on her left and caught her other wrist. Both chains grew taunt, the links whipping about her wrists. The chains ended in manacles, made of the same oily black metal as the spinward door. The pair of them snapped open and shut about her wrists. For a moment the chains went slack and then they began pulling towards opposit corners of the wall. Jane found herself pressed against the stone, her arms stretched out as far as they would go. "Paul?"

"Let me guess, you're manacled to the wall." He said from somewhere behind her.

"How'd you know?"

"Because I'm manacled to the other wall." he said in a deadpan voice.

"That's ok, I know a spell for this." She said focusing on her breathing. In and out, in and out. She set aside the burn in her over stretched muscles and joints. She set aside the fear that whatever lived here could return at any moment. There was only the breath, and her life force and her sorcery. Jane opened her eyes and intoned the word of power, "DOP!"

The drain of her Stamina was familiar now. she felt it travelling up her arms towards the manacals, and then it twisted, cascading back like ice-water, making her shiver. The cold traveled over her skin until it reached her throat. "Taft Hon?"

"What happened?" Paul said.

They couldn't make eye contact. No matter how Jane twisted, she could see nothing but the cell wall. "Grah Mara, Ton pad," she said, "Graphy!"

"Something tells me that spell didn't do what you expected," Paul said, "I'll get us out, give me a moment."

Paul Grunted several times, then she heard chain striking stone.

Jane followed the sound as he strolled across the cell, jangling the keys as he went. "Hold on, one of these should open your manacles."

He got it on the second try.

The moment Jane was free she ran out of the cell, with Paul close behind her. Just the few minutes being chained up where enough to chafe her wrists. The manicals Paul had escaped hung from the far wall, they were still locked. She looked at her friend then pointed to the manacles."Burg dat?"

"I've got fat wrists." he said, "I got nine gold from that, how about you?"

Jane held up eight fingers. "Blar."

Pauls lips moved, but Jane couldn't hear him over the screech of metal against stone. The door on the spinward wall lifted, revealing a grey skinned humanoid at least seven feet tall. It wore animal skins wrapped around its waist, and nothing else.

The Ogre, for that was what the monster was, ducked under the door and let it crash back into place. Its eyes looked too small for its head, almost disappearing between its thick brow ridges and protruding jaw. It sniffed the air, its nostrils flaring. Its ears twitched left and right and then it turned towards them and banged a rough club against the floor. With a bone shaking bellow the Ogre charged, bringing its club around in a wide low arc.

Bob blared a war cry and ran forward swinging its short sword at the Ogre's knee. The Ogre clubbed him against the wall with enough force to make him burst into ectoplasm.

Clutching her staff before her, Jane dropped into her defensive stance, looking from the Ogre to the exploded goblin and back again "Fragale!"

Paul crouched beside her, waving the torch before him, to keep the Ogre at bay. He followed with a jab of his short sword. "For Bob!"

The trick may have worked on the Ghoul, but the ogre was having none of that. It batted the torch away and pushed towards them, snarling as it came.

Jane retreated, back towards the curtain. Walking backwards down stairs, in the dark while fighting an Ogre seemed like a stupid thing to do, but it was the only option open right now.

The ogre swung high, they ducked, then low on the backswing, they jumped. Paul cleared the club with inches to spare, but Jane wasn't quick enough. The tree sized weapon clipped her foot and sent her spinning through the air.

The Ogre bore down on Paul. He retreated, but was already almost in the midden, boxed in by his much larger foe.

Jane rolled forwards from where she had landed, and sprang up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her left foot. She thrust with her quarter staff, putting every once of weight behind her weapon. the end of it stuck the Ogre just below his left ear.

It roared in pain and backhanded her without looking. Its thick meaty hand striking her chest with enough force to send her flying for the second time. she hit the wall between the cells, hard enough to make her see stars. At least the pain in her skull distracted her from the pain in her chest. She landed on all fours gasping for breath.

The Ogre lumbered towards her, ignoring Paul for the moment, then swung the club in an upward arc.
It caught her full in the face and chest, sending her airborn for the third time. She caught a glimps of Paul, rushing the Ogre from behind, his sword swinging down towards the monsters leg and coming up bloody on the other side. He was screaming something, and his face glistened with tears. A notification obstructed Jane's view.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED, MOSTLY DEAD.

She slumped to the floor, and everthing went black.

Authors Note

There has been one more minor ninja edit. North in part 1 is now rimwards as I've decided this is story is taking place on a discworld, though not the Discworld. This one has glacier covered mountains along the outermost edge, and a single large ocean in the middle. Our story takes place on the ring of temperate land, about 500 miles from the Rimwolds. As to what is keeping the world up, well no one has ever seen past the Rimwolds, so who knows? Giant space turtles will neither be confirmed nor denied.

Part 4 is already written and will be posted next week.

There was nothing but pain. Jane's chest hurt, her head hurt, her arms and legs hurt. As her senses returned, she noticed the outside world. The room still reeked of excrement. Water dripped from stone making a rhythmic ping, ping, ping. Something scuttled over the stone.

She uncurled her body and rolled onto her back. The hide she lay on squelched, adding the dank sent of mould to the miasma of the room. She opened her eyes. Someone had smashed dozens of stalactites down leaving stone stumps scattered across the cavern ceiling. Time had softened their edges, but Jane could make out the wounds.

Memories of the day came flooding back. Turning into a girl, fighting an Ogre. She groaned and rolled over onto hands and knees.

A trail of blood, black in the sickly light, lead from near the stairway to the Ogre's bedroll. Her broom was several feet away. The magic candle stood where she had left it, still burning, and the keyring lay abandoned beside it.

Jane crawled to her broom and used it to leaver herself into a standing position. Her left foot throbbed when she put weight on it.

She cried out at the pain. Her vision darkened, and the room spun. Jane clenched her teeth and refused to sit back down. She rode out the vertigo, breathing deeply despite the stench, until everything stopped moving.

She could see the Ogre now, it lay curled up in a dark puddle of blood. Paul's slice hadn't been immediately fatal, but the monster wouldn't be getting up again.

She checked her character sheet. The good news was that she now had 33 experience points, the bad news was that she had a single point of Stamina, and no gold. "Paul?"

There was no answer. She shuffled across the room and drew back the leather curtain. It wasn't entirely dark in the passageway. The lichen glowed giving definition to the walls but leaving the stairs too dark to walk down. She cleared her throat and called again, louder "Paul?"

There was still no answer. She'd need the candle to search further. I'll take the keys, she thought. She collected the candle and the keys. All the while watching the Ogre. It remained dead, which was good as Jane was in no shape for another round, the stairs where hard enough.

Her injured left foot meant she had to ease her way down one step at a time. The broom made a serviceable crutch but walking down stairs was still far more complicated than normal. At the foot of the stairs she tried again. "Hello? Paul, where are you."

The gaping darkness on her left swallowed the words, only to return a faint echo. Paul didn't answer. There was only one conclusion, he left her. That no-good son of an innkeeper took her coin and left her for dead. Some friend he turned out to be, she thought, wiping tears from her eyes. "If I ever get out of here, I'll kill him."

Anger steadied her step. She marched onwards, back the way they had come, past the spot where she had found the mudcaps, at least Paul hadn't stolen them as well. Several of the Purple globes had burst. He must have gone too close. She smiled at that. "The itching must be driving him crazy."

She reached the intersection where someone, possibly the ogre, had broken into the main dungeon. She turned left, they'd argued about that, Paul would have wondered at random, but Jane wasn't that careless, just keep going left, left and home.

* * *

"I should have gone right to retrace my steps, but I went left and stumbled into your bar." Jane said, thumping her empty flagon on the bar top. " It's good I suppose. I wouldn't have made it past the broken bridge."

"That's quite the tale, if I weren't here with you, I wouldn't believe it." Grom said, then scratched his beard. "I wonder, what would keep an Ogre away."

"What do you mean?" Jane asked.

"Your home is half a day's walk from here?"

"Less," Jane said, "we didn't start at the crack of dawn."

"An Ogre lived here all this time and never bothered your town. Ogres are not that smart. It's the kind of thing an adventurer would poke her nose into," Grom said.

YOU HAVE BEEN OFFERED A QUEST. SOMETHING SINISTER IN LAMBFORD. ACCEPT?

Jane accepted the quest, then looked at Grom. "You're a quest giver?"

"I'm a barkeep aren’t I, quest giving comes with the job." Grom frowned, he looked serious for the first time since they had met. Then, everything about Grom faded. The red leached right out of his braids, and the kegs of mead behind him were translucent and glowing a ghostly blue.

Jane jumped up from her stool. As she backed up, she passed straight through another one. "Grom, what is happening?"

"The moon is setting and with that I must leave. you see when I said I learned to make moon mead from the Alin, I wasn't being honest."

"I don't Understand" Jane said, waving her arms at the disappearing furniture.

"Well, I may have stolen that recipe, and the Alin don't take too kindly to theft. The moon mead is sacred. When they caught up with me they slit my throat and dumped my body in the black river. But don't worry Lass, the moon means you no harm in sending me, just the opposite. How does your foot feel?"

Jane pressed down with her left foot, when it didn't hurt she put her whole weight on it. "It's better, how?"

"Now you know why the Alin guard their moon mead so fiercely." he said. " Goodbye Jane Greenway."

"Thank you for the mead Grom, for listening and for keeping me safe."

"It was a pleasure Lass, make sure you find the chest." He smiled again, raising his hand in fair well. Jane blinked, when her eyes opened she saw an empty cave. The bar was gone as were the kegs, and Grom himself. Instead there was an uneven rock floor sloping towards a fast-flowing stream of dark water.

It was the river they had heard earlier, its passage looked clear upstream. Downstream was another matter. Masonry blocks formed a broken crescent across the cave, the water tumbling over the stones.

She squatted on the river bank to wash her hands and face. A proper bath would have been nice. But a bath needed a safe place, especially if she was to investigate certain changes. The river did not look big enough to be the Alf, but even then, this was not a safe place and the water was freezing.

She shook out her hands and turned back towards the dungeon. Unlike the rest of the cavern the hubward wall was dressed stone. There were two doors. The one on the right stood open, revealing a damp stone corridor. The one on the left was closed. With a smile on her face Jane opened it and, broom in hand, stepped through. When she caught her former friend, there would be a reckoning.

The next room was square, with two doors, on opposite walls. The centre of the room had been raised slightly. An iron-bound chest filled the platform, it was bolted to the stone. Other than that, the room was unremarkable.

"Easy as pie." Jane said as she crouched in front of the chest. She set the candle down beside her knee. It lit the area well enough. Her broom went on the right side, in easy reach. The keys jingled as she sorted them in her hands, dismissing the cell keys and trying the next one after that.

The key slipped in but wouldn't turn. She flipped to the next one. This time the lock turned smoothly until the mechanism clicked. At the same instant the floor Jane was kneeling on gave way with a much louder thump.

Her right hand met wood, and she grabbed on, coming to an abrupt stop that jarred the joints in her arm. The candle continued to fall, tumbling over and over to land sideways at the bottom of the pit. It came free of its holder and rolled away, the flame flickering as melted wax pooled about the wick.

Her arm burned, reminding Jane that she had more pressing issues. She shifted to a two-handed grip, then pulled herself up, her feet skidding off the pit walls.

The broom stayed firm, not so much as rocking as she climbed. Good broom, Jane thought as she swung her body. On the third swing her feet found the other edge of the pit and she hooked her heels over. Then it was a case of edging sideways until she could clamber back onto solid stone. "Lousy trapped dungeon."

At least the chest was still open. She approached it from the side this time, taking care to stand on two separate flagstones. There was gold! Lots and lots of gold, a silver ring and a matching tiara decorated with a yellowish stone. She scooped up the coins into the sack she'd brought.

The tiara was shaped about a sunstone larger than Jane's thumb. Dull silver metal curled up and back from the stone, to form two cat ears. When worn the tiara would sit high on the head, with the cat ears sticking up and the stone almost at the hairline. Cat ears? Someone had a twisted sense of fashion, but it was the stone that mattered. She could work with that though it would mean wearing a tiara.

Jane looked at the puddle of wax where a feeble flame still flickered. To hell with it, she'd wear the tiara, cat ears be damned. She brushed her hair back and slipped it on. "I'm a witch wearing a tiara, someone got a problem with that? I'll turn you into something nasty?"

It fit her head the combs pushing her hair back and away from the face. Now for the spell. She focused, the life force flowed through her. With a mental command she disrupted the stream, channelling just a trickle into the stone. Her breathing and pulse slowed. She said the word. "SUN".

The stone glowed, illuminating the room like a tiny sun. It was so bright she had to close her eyes. She willed the light to dim to tolerable levels then opened her eyes again. "Perfect, Now I have light and free hands!"

Only the ring remained. Compared to the tiara it looked plain. A silver band without a stone or inscription. But, there was something about it, the moment she touched it magic reached out to her.

The magic promised strength and vitality. She opened one eye again and brought the ring up to catch the light. The surface was smooth and unmarked inside and out. What if it was a trap? She could store it for now and show it to Druid Starskie. He would know something about magic rings. But what if he declared it too dangerous for a young one and wanted to keep it.

"Grom told me to find the chest." She said, still looking at the magic ring. She put it on her right index finger. For a moment its glow intensified, strands of power uncurled and wove into her own core of life force. Her stamina grew, making her more alive. Jane pulled up her character sheet.


Jane Greenway, Human Witch (F)
Skill: 6/6 Stamina: 7/12+2 Luck: 7/9 Magic: 4/4
Age: 15 Social class: 4 experience: 34
Talent: focus (broomstick)
Special Skills: Awareness 1, Armour 1, Climb 2, Staves 2
Languages: common 4, goblin 1
Lore: World 1, Forest 2, Herb 2, Religion 1
Magic Skills: Sorcery 2, Second Sight 1
Equipment: Wood witch's Broomstick (focus, staff, ZEN), Ring of Stamina +2, Sunstone Tiara
Provisions: 0 Coin: 107gp 0sp


By the gods, over a hundred gold. If Paul was here, he'd want half the gold and the ring too. Well too bad for him. That's what he got for robbing friends, she thought.

Jane tied the sack of coins to her belt rope. it was heavy, but it was the only way to keep both hands free for staff fighting. She opened the next door and walked through.

Another square room, this time in place of a chest the center of the room was covered with sixty four glowing tiles. They made a square two feet to a side and alternated so that each white tile only touched blue tiles.

She regarded the pattern for a while, scratching her head in thought. What if it was another trap? Who would be dumb enough to step on it. Jane circled the glowing square and moved on to the next door.

It opened into a catacomb. The room was two yards wide and ten yards long. Shelves, filled with human bones, ran the entire length of both walls. The skulls left her in no doubt that they were human bones. She counted at least twenty, each resting on a neat pile of bones of all shapes and sizes. Someone had labelled every pile though she could not decipher the script.

She was halfway down the row when she felt a flare of magic behind her. When she turned she saw bones falling from one shelf. As they fell they arrange themselves, forming feet, then legs, and a pelvis. Piece by piece a skeleton assembled until it came to a head. Red light flared from its empty eye sockets and it clanked its jaws in a mockery of speech.

Jane slipped into her fighter’s stance, this would suck, and she didn't think a fireball would do much against a skeleton. She needed to kick its bony ass the old-fashioned way, with a big stick. She willed her experience points into staff fighting. Moments later the gods recognised her request.

STAFF SKILL INCREASED TO 3.

The skeleton grabbed a leg bone from another pile and swung it like a club.

Jane dismissed the notification and blocked the skeleton's attack, then countered, spinning inwards and thrusting with the other end of the staff.

The impact jarred her arms and shoulders, travelling through her to her back foot. She grunted with effort. They exchanged blow after blow the sound of bone on wood filling the room. The skeleton was both fast and strong. Its next hit landed, striking Jane's ribs with a loud thwack, certain to leave a bruise.

She commanded the sunstone to grow brighter until the crypt was as bright as a summer’s day. The skeleton shivered and backed away from the light.

Jane followed, thrusting her staff at its left shoulder joint. "don't like that, do you bony?"

The joint came apart with surprising ease. Arm bones, now separated from whatever animated the monster, fell apart. The skeleton clanked its teeth. Without a left arm its balance was off. Its next swing missed. The exchange after that saw it thump Jane's ribs again, in the same place as last time.

Got to buy armour she thought, first thing when I get home. Mr Skinner might have something in my size, he's always peddling bits of armour to passing adventurers.

Another strike from the skeleton broke her train of thought. She got her staff up at the last moment to block, then countered with a strike to the knee, leaving the skeleton hopping on one foot. After that, it was just a matter of striking joints until the skeleton was nothing but a head clacking its jaws.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Jane said, kicking the skull. It bounced off the wall and came to rest under one of the long shelves. That's when she saw the spell sheet.

On the Wall beside the door was a framed leather parchment. It bore a trident and eel design, just like the cursed book. Several other glyphs where inked just below the crest. They looked like the same script used to label the shelves. Each glyph a nest of interlocking swirls far more complex than a single letter. Why write a spell on parchment? Why not carve it into the stone? Surely it would last longer that way.

She touched it. The leather was smooth and well cured. But the ink was curious, instead of being drawn on the surface it was inside the leather. A tattoo! Jane looked at the piles of bones and shivered. Had this been done on someone while they were alive?

Up close Jane could see the magic flowing from the parchment and into the door frame. She focused on it until her head ached but could glean no further insight into what it did. A seal to keep the water out? It was an idea after all the catacomb was bone dry.

She returned to the room with the glowing squares and opened the final door. After walking down a short passage, she returned to the room where their first fight had taken place. The place stank of dead goblin. She rushed through it and returned to the well. Overhead, oak leaves danced against a bright blue and sunlit sky. Paul had taken the rope.

With a muttered curse she entered her casting trance. Remembering the unlocking spell, she took the time to centre, breathing in and out. She felt the flow of her life force, augmented by the ring, and intoned the spell. "ZEN!"

Jane mounted her broom and floated up. Raised voices echoed down from the clearing. She willed the sunstone to stop glowing, ending the spell and rose to within an inch of the Well mouth.

"I don't care how dangerous it is." a familiar voice yelled. It was her father. "I'm not leaving my son's body in some forsaken dungeon."

He looked agitated, waving his arms about as he talked, and his hair and beard where unbrushed. He wasn't alone, she recognised the muscled form of Mr Brewster, who looked huge beside her father's lean strength. The third member of the rescue party was George in his novice’s robes. He stood under the old oak, in the same place Paul had sat yesterday, watching as the older men argued.

Even from the distance Jane could see her father's anguish, the drooped shoulders and the red eyes. He cared for her, he cared for her even if he berated everything she did as not good enough.

"Dad, I'm alive, I'm alive." she yelled rising her broom clear of the Well. She willed herself to her father. The broom complied in its own sweet time, floating across the intervening space at a lazy pace.

"John, my son" Her father said tackling her off the broom. He crushed her in a hug, speaking into her shoulder. Then his body stiffened, and he released her. His gazed moved from the broom to the Tiara still on her head. "By the gods, what have you done to yourself you fool boy?"

Jane looked from her father, to his companions. Mr Brewster had a grim look on his face, and George was staring, his mouth open in shock. Neither grime nor clothing could hide her transformation. "Dad, I can explain."

After their greeting Father was silent as they walked through the forest, heading hubwards towards the Mill Road. Wilting under his disapproval Jane took the tiara off and stowed it in her sack. She didn't need it in the daylight. She kept the ring on. It was yet another thing to set her apart, after all villagers didn't wear rings, but the stamina boost it gave was worth her father's glares.

George walked with Mr Brewster. Mouth open as if he was about to say something he glanced at Jane but remained silent. After the third time this happened, Jane dropped back to walk beside him," George, I don't bite, you can talk to me you know."

The boy shrugged, his hood falling back over his shoulders." It's just weird. I've never met anyone cursed before. Why are you carrying a broom?"

"I don't think it's a curse, and the broom is magic. I can make it fly as you saw. If only it wasn't so slow." Jane said. She scanned the woodlands about them. The dense canopy left the ground in shadow, In places it was dark enough that Jane considered putting her Tiara back on.

Then in the distance to their left she spotted feathery leaves. A slender tree growing in a small clearing lept out at her, it held so much magic. "George, a Rowan tree!"

"Yea, we saw it coming out. Where are you going?"

Jane spun around walking backwards for several steps, then spun again. "It's a Rowan tree, and that means herbs. Hasn't the Druid been teaching you herb lore?"

"Yea, but now isn't really the time."

"Dad, Wait a moment." Jane called raising her voice. "Me and George need to collect herbs."

Jane almost danced up to the tree, scanning the ground about its roots. It was hard to miss the Sorrell, its broad red veined leaves, growing in dense bunches between the rowan roots. "Shoot, I lost my knife, do you have a sickle?"

George pulled the sickle from where it hung at his belt and held it out to her. When Jane took it their fingers touched. He pulled his hand back as if her hand was a glowing coal.

With a sigh Jane harvested sorrel, she cut six generous bunches. "Are you going to gather some too?"

"We have a herb garden in the grove, so we need not collect in the forest."

"I found Mudcaps earlier, you think Druid Starskie would trade me some Madder and Balm Lily?"

"Will you two hurry." Her father shouted from where he waited, leaning against a tree trunk, his foot tapping against a root. "I don't have time for gallivanting, there's work to do."

Jane winced at her father's words and took George's hand. "Come on lets go."

He tried to pull his hand back, his face growing redder and redder, when it wouldn't come free.

"I told you I don't bite, will you calm down and act like a friend again?"

"It's just your shirt. It is rather threadbare, and it leaves things visible. And I'm with Becca and I shouldn't be looking at other girls."

"Paul never said anything." Jane said, dropping his hand again. She looked at her shirt. It was an old shirt, and it was clinging to certain areas. Well there wasn't anything to be done about it. "That rat! I will kill him, twice. Wait Are you saying that if you weren't with Becca you'd be staring at my chest?"

George sputtered. "No, I mean I didn't. I was trying not to look OK."

She patted him on the back, laughing at the confused look on his face. "OK, I'll walk behind you where you aren't tempted to look."

Jane let George get ahead of her, and they reverted to silence again, but it was different this time, George walked beside her with no more furtive glances. "You're not really going to kill Paul are you."

"He robbed me and left me! I was unconscious, and he left me for dead." She said then sighed, forcing her shoulders to relax. "But no I'm not really going to kill him."

It didn't take long to reach the edge of the Mill road. It wasn't much of a road, just two ruts in the dirt marking where generations of wagons had travelled. A trickle of trade moved in both directions all summer long. Food and adventurers heading for the mines in Hillfort and Iron Ingots heading for Fort White on the Spindle.

Walking along a cleared wagon rut was faster than picking a way through the forest and it wasn't even lunch time when the four of them paused outside the Brewster's tavern.

The tavern was a long wattle and daube building, maybe the size of two cottages joined end to end. Several yards away was a long barn for horses and a loft for their owners. The thin plank walls didn't provide much protection from the cold, but then the there were few travellers come winter. lightweight awnings provided shade for four outdoor tables. John and his Father had helped the Brewsters put them up a month ago, and would take them down again before winter. At this time of day only a few older villagers were present, sipping cider under the awning while their smallest grandchildren chased each other on the bank of the stream.

"Are you sure you won't step in for a moment, The pies will be cool by now?" Mr Brewster said. In something of a reversal of convention Mr Brewster did most of the Tavern's cooking while his wife did the brewing, which worked out better for everybody. His pies where to die for, no matter what filling he used and Mrs Brewster's cider was perfect every time.

"No, not today, we best be getting on to see the Druid." Father said, turning back to the road. The mill stream, after which the road got its name, had been dug generations ago, and ran along the entire rimward edge of Lambford, while Regina's creek wend its way hubwards around the town proper.

George let the white hood fall to his shoulders. He stood there, rubbing his hands together for several moments before looking up at Jane and looking away again. "I guess I'll see you later John, I mean Jane."

"Bye George, say hi to Becca for me." Jane said. She had to run to catch up with her father who marched towards the grove. Druid Starskie had lived ever since his wife died.

"I didn't mean to do it." Jane said, trying to strike up a conversation for the umpteenth time as she jogged to keep up with her father.

"There's lots of things folk didn't mean to do, but done is done." His reply was low, and he didn't so much as look at her, as they passed from the Mill road into the grove.

The trees here had a blue-green tint to their leaves that stayed on even in mid winter. The Grove wasn't just a peaceful place it imposed peace on anyone who ventured into it. A man could march in intent on murder and he would end up standing there gazing at his victim in confusion. Jane saw the magic hitting her father with every step. The creases in his forehead smoothed out, his eyes widened and his fingers uncurled, until they rested against his sides.

The path between the trees was never the same twice. John used to delight in leaving marks on the trees and then returning a half glass later to search for them. All four of them, Him, Paul George and Becca, played that game. No matter how many marks they made none of them ever found a single one again.

That was then. Today things were different, today there was no path. Her father disappeared between two massive tree-trunks. The branches shifted behind him blocking her path before she could take two steps. She backed up. The gap she had used to enter the grove was gone. The branches behind her where just as impenetrable as those in front.
The trees had boxed her in, weaving their branches together until Jane could not move more than a foot in any direction. She picked a branch at random and pushed against it. "Help."

There was no answer. When Jane stood still the branches receded, and untangled, but every time she moved they tightened again. "Well then I guess I'll stay right here."

If the trees heard her, they gave no sign.

She stood there tapping her foot and counting under her breath. When nothing had changed after a count of three hundred she sat cross legged on the ground and closed her eyes. Without the distraction of sight she felt the protective magics on the grove. They caught anyone who might be a threat. A few years ago a man wanted for murder in Hillfort had been trapped in the grove. Druid Starskie kept him there until the Duke's guards came to take him back to face justice. Now the grove deemed her a threat too.

"Well, well, what have my trees caught today?"

The druid appeared without disrupting the webwork of magic. Even though she had her magical sight open, she didn't sense him coming. Jane smiled towards the thin sound of his voice. Druid Starskie always whispered and yet that whisper could cut across a noisy bar room.

"Good morning sir, It's me Jane. I mean John. That is I used to be John, gods this is confusing."

The Druid turned to face her, his milk white eyes seeming to drill into her core. He'd been blind as long as Jane could remember and yet it never appeared to bother him. "Do you pledge to work no magic in my grove?"

"Yes sir, I do."

He waved a hand, and the trees untangled, revealing the inner clearing. "Then you and your stick may enter."

Two strides took Jane from the trees into the clearing where her father was waiting. Perched on Druid Starskie's outdoor table, he had his arms folded over his chest.

Jane's stomach growled. In the time she'd been stuck in the trees George had eaten pie and there he was on the far side of the clearing, weeding a herb garden. He waved to her, "Hay John, I mean Jane, We have the Madder you wanted."

Jane waved in reply, then shot her father a glare, which he didn't notice as she approached the table. It stood just outside the Medicine hut and was where the Druid consulted his visitors on most days. Two more huts stood behind the medicine hut. Unlike the cottages in town these where low circular structures with earth covered rooves. The first was the Druid's old hut. It had been there so long that the turf had grown over it making it look like part of the land. The one behind it was far newer the earth on its roof still raw and free of growth. It was where Becca and George now lived. The only other building in sight was the temple, an open shed on the far side of the clearing.

Jane saw the alters where villagers would leave offerings to the gods. The Green Man and Mother Night had pride of place. Three of their children, the Farmer, the Crafter and the Peddler were also represented. The divine family was far larger than these five, many other gods were worshiped in the human kingdoms. Lambford was a small village the gods of the common people where enough. John had looked to the Crafter, but Jane wasn't sure anymore.

Perhaps the Moon Child would be a better fit now. After all Grom had claimed affinity with the moon. Respectable villagers didn't worship the troublesome moon child, so it was not in the tabula. Or was it? Now that Jane looked she saw a smiling face peaking out from behind Mother Night's robes. That it was a face, and a child was clear but there was no telling whether it was a boy or a girl. Even the hair was too indistinct and wild to give a hint. It looked just as weathered as the rest of the wooden carving, but Jane was uncertain that it had been there yesterday.

"Well, can you remove the curse?" Her father, who had been talking all the while, demanded. He was still standing beside the table, arms folded, and feet planted on the ground.

The old druid smiled in response. "If only you where as patient with people as you are with your timber. Now sit, and we will have tea."

Jane sat while the Druid disappeared into the second hut. He soon returned, walking across the clearing with confidence. he sidestepped the fire pit and didn't so much as kick a loose stone. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, I was deep in my meditations and unaware you had returned."

Jane suspected his meditations had been taking place over Mrs Brewster's cider. She almost smiled at the thought, only stopping at the last moment. Despite his dead eyes the Druid had a knack for noticing sass.
The earthenware teapot had belonged to the Druids wife. it was brightly glazed and had a pattern of pink flowers all over it. Lazy curls of steam rose from the spout. Jane inhaled the steam to distract herself. "Camomile and Albin's Wart, should I pour."

"Ah, you know your herbs girl." he said, smiling at her to continue.

"Boy." her father interjected. "John Jr is a boy."

Jane poured three cups of tea. Her father just glared at his, while the Druid sipped, and smacked his lips. He turned towards Jane's father, "Drink your tea John."

While this was going on Jane sipped her own tea, savouring the minty flavour of the wart overlayed with the sweetness of the camomile. "I found sorrel on our way home. I will try my hand at a healing salve. I was hoping to get Madder and Balm Lily."

"Ah, planning to make Berserker's brew are we. Well Madder we have as young George told you, but Balm Lily, I'm afraid that is scarce in these parts." he said, stroking his beard as he talked. "You'd have to find a trader up from the delta for that, they charge an arm and a leg. Perhaps we can discuss herb law later, Now why don't you start at the beginning and tell me what brings you here today."

Jane took another sip of tea to wet her throat. "There was an Ogre living at the well. Did you know?"

The Druid's eyebrows rose, at Janes words. "That's, that's preposterous. there are no Ogres in these woods. What ever you found down there it was not an Ogre. If there were Ogres, I'd know about it."

"Enough of the tall tale's boy. Tell the Druid how you got cursed." Father said, slapping the table for emphasis. the jolt of it made his teacup wobble.

"I'm sure it was an Ogre sir, but that came later." She said, taking another sip of tea. "Our first fight was against some goblins. We'd just climbed down the well when we were ambushed. One of them disarmed me, so I needed another weapon. I grabbed onto this broom."

"Why did you grab the broom?" Druid Starskie said.

Jane willed the broom to shift to its battle form but it remained broom shaped. "It's a quarterstaff when it wants to be. Anyway, I picked it up, and I got all these notifications. The goblins where right behind us so I may have accepted them without reading."

"Gods," Jane's father exclaimed. "What kind of fool ignores the gods!"

"When the fight was over, I was a witch. Being a girl came with the class, boys can't be witches."

Druid Starskie raised a hand, making her pause in her story. "So you accepted the class, and the other changes? What does your character sheet say?"

"It says I'm a girl."

Her father waved a hand in her direction, his cooling teacup still full before him. "So can you fix him?"

"No. Jane is not cursed. She was changed of her own free will," he said. "Such changes are permanent. Now enough talk of curses, tell me child did the change give you a rating in any Magic skills?"

"Yes, I've got two points in Sorcery, and I took out both goblins with a fireball."

The Druid jumped from his spot on the bench, his eyes glowing. "Sorcery! I thought I felt something rank."

"But."

The trees shook, and clouds sprang up out of nowhere to fill the sky above the clearing. "Enough, you will foul my grove no longer. Be gone and do not return. I will not have sorcerers in my grove!"

Jane retreated towards the trees. In her hand the broom shifted into a staff, its energy prickling at her hand as she moved. "I didn't do anything wrong."

The Druid stalked after her. There was a staff in his hands though Jane hadn't seen him pick it up. It was a long piece of driftwood as white as his eyes. "If I hear you spreading tall tales about Ogre's and scaring the good folk of this town, you and I will have a problem young miss. Now go."

Jane fled, clutching the broom in her arms, running until she was through the trees. When she came to a stop, the trees had shifted into a wall of living wood. It parted for an instant and her father stepped out too. He looked back at the grove and poked the interlocked tree branches with his finger. Then he looked down at Jane, his shoulders sagging. "Well that could have gone better."

Jane's Father stood before the wall of living wood, his hands on his hips. "Now you've upset the Druid. How are we supposed to lift that curse?"

Jane rolled her eyes. Her father could be so annoying. She mirrored his pose, her own hands going to her hips, "Dad, weren't you listening, I'm not cursed, I'm a girl."

"And you're happy about that are you?"

"Well, no, not exactly." she said, "Though I'm not unhappy about it either."

Her Father grabbed her upper arm in a vice grip. "We'll just see how you like it then. If you wanted to be a girl you will act like one. We'll she how long before you're praying to the gods for a cure. Maybe they'll even hear you."

His piece said, father dropped her arm and headed towards the village, waving for her to follow.

"I didn't ask for this." Jane yelled, "It just happened."

They headed hubwards, through the village square. The Greenway House and workshop lay on the other side of the creek, the only house further out was Mr Skinners tannery.

The village green was surprisingly busy today. Every woman in the village was present. They clustered around cottage doors, or happened to be passing by. Only the fact that this was a work day prevented the entire village from being there. Most of the men having not heard the news yet.

Jane rubbed at her arm and kept her eyes down not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. Every movement reminded her how the broom had transformed her. The way the britches rubbed against her thighs. The way her chest moved under her shirt reminded her of what George had said earlier. There was a reason girls seldom came out wearing only one layer. She folded her arms to cover her breasts.

Many of the villagers didn't even bother to whisper as they discussed the news of Jane's changes. Several girls and young women where clustered at the edge of the stone fountain, whispering behind cupped hands. Jane looked for Becca, but didn't see her.

The fountain was Lambford's one curiosity. Every visitor to the village stopped to see it. Far too grand for a village green, what with its carved stone walls and the intricate concentric bowls, the fountain gurgled happily year round. Even midwinter when the creek itself froze thick enough for skating. Sir Lamb had erected it many years ago at the request of his new bride.

Lady Lamb had been younger than her husband and had the willowy figure and delicate features that were expected of a high-born lady. Not made for this world, her mother said. She had died in child bed not long after, and her lord had followed within the year. Becca declared the tale tragically romantic. When none of the boys in the gang got it, she shrugged and said it was a girl thing. Now that Jane was a girl she still didn't get it.

The enchantments that maintained the fountain's temperature flared in her magical sight. Everybody thought the runes that wove about the fountain where what kept it running. They were not, the power came from something inside the stone. How Strange, she thought, why bother carving the runes if they were not needed?

"Is it true," Samantha Skinner said, breaking away from the other girls at the fountain, and up to Jane. "are you really a girl now?"

Samantha had ash-blonde hair like her mother, and large green-blue eyes, that dominated her face, and gave her an owlish look. Though of a similar age to the gang she had never run with them, having being obsessed with looking pretty for as long as Jane could remember. Right now her faint eyebrows where raised high in curiosity.

"Yes, it's true. I'm a witch" Jane said into the sudden silence.

"Oh, so you can do spells and stuff?"

"Samantha, get away from that thing." Mrs Skinner had appeared as if out of nowhere, here own ash blonde hair tied back under a tight bonnet. She shoved her daughter behind her and glared at Jane.

"You will stay away from my daughter, is that clear John Greenway."

"It's Jane, I'm called Jane now." Jane said, her voice disappearing into a whisper.

Mrs Skinner sneered at her, her face twisting until it was more frightening than the ogre's had been. "Fancey that, a boy who likes dresses and ribbons, You don't have me fooled, you twisted little freak."

"Is there a problem Ursula?" Her Father said, his voice low. He'd come back and now stood beside her, his hands clenched in fists again.

"I was telling your son, where we stand." She said, pointing at Jane.

"Oh, where you now. I don't think it's your place to inform my child of anything."

"Surely, you don't approve, I mean how could you?"

"That's my business woman, not yours, come along Jane your mother is waiting. If there is a need to discipline Jane, please consult me, as I would consult you should your Samantha need correcting," he said tugging Jane away from Mrs Skinner.

Jane nodded and hurried away, her face burning. She chanced a glance back to see Samantha looking after her, mouthing an apology when her mother wasn't looking. They passed the green and clattered over the bridge that had replaced the ford five years ago. Like much of the woodwork in town Jane's father had played a major part in its construction.

With that Jane was home. John and his father whitewashed the cottage last spring, and the walls were still bright in the sun. Through at this time of day the old cherry tree shaded a good portion. Father's wood shop, an open structure to get the most light was on the other side of the tree, and behind that the wood drying sheds, built long enough to keep a dozen whole trees out of the wet.

The Greenways had been carpenters for generations and it showed in their cottage. It was the second biggest in town, only the Brewsters was larger. Grandfather Greenway had partitioned the inside with shelving. A kitchen and day room on one side and a sleeping room on the other. Jane even had half the loft above the sleeping room. On cold nights she would curl up against the warm stones of the chimney.

"We're home." her father announced as he stomped the dust off his shoes at the door. Her mum was at the heather swinging the large copper kettle of water off of the flames.

The kettle took several buckets to fill and was too heavy to move by hand. Instead it hung from one of the roof beams on a cast iron arm that could be swung on and off the fire.

Mum rushed towards them, a big smile on her face."There you two are, and it's about time. Rushing off to see the druid instead of coming straight home. what were you thinking!"

"Anne dear, we need to talk." Father said, returning her embrace.

Mum had released him and turned to Jane, looking at her with her head tilted. She caught Jane's chin in one hand and turned her face left and right."You think I haven't heard, the news is all over the village. We can discuss it later, right now me and ..."

"Jane," Jane said.

"Me and Jane need to get acquainted."

"It's permanent, the Druid said there was no cure. And we may have trouble with the Skinners," Father said.

Jane's mum pushed him back towards the door. "All the more reason for me to get to know my new daughter. Now why don't you go grab a bite at the Brewster's."

"But."

"No buts." she said. "Your daughter and I have women's business."

Once her father was out the door Mum turned to Jane and enveloped her in a hug. "Gods above, what were you thinking, running off to some dungeon. You are the spitting image of your aunt Cordelia. Oh, sweetie, how are you taking all this?"

Jane had to think about that. The danger was over, she was safe at home, yet she was not freaking out. She pulled away from her mum, and paced the floor, going to the heather and back again. "I think I'm ok. I mean I was happy as a boy, but I wasn't happy being a villager. Now I'm a witch, and I know I can handle myself. I beat up a walking skeleton mum. You should have seen it."

Mum poured the warmed water into the hip bath. "Being a girl isn't bad, and you are a witch. You can tell me about it while you take a bath."

"Mum!"

Jane's mum smiled and patted her cheek. "I'll stay in the other room, unless you want to go out to the creek. I'm sure the neighbours will respect your privacy."

Sure she'd gone for a quick dip in the creek lots of times, as John. There was nothing better on a hot summer's day. Jane looked at the muck smeared shirt and britches she was wearing, "here's fine."

"Good," Mum said, as she disappeared into the other room only to return with an embroidered shift and the good blue dress she wore on holidays. "We're the same size now, so you can wear these until we can sew you a set of every-day clothes."

"But Mum, those are girls clothes."

"And?"

The realisation hit her like a charging bull, the arguments dieing before she could finish thinking them, let alone utter them. "I'm a girl now, not dressing like one will make things worse, won't it?"

"Yes, yes it will. Now hurry before the water cools, Here's soap and lye for your hair, make sure you work it in right down to the roots." Mum said, as she draped the girls clothes over one of the kitchen chairs, and a drying sheet over another. "Leave your clothes by the door and we'll see if we can salvage any of them later, Honestly what kind of filth where you rolling around in?"

"well, there were goblin guts, and."

Mum held up a hand, she shivered, "I don't want to know, Call me when you're ready to do your hair."

Alone again Jane, tossed her loot sack up into her loft, where it landed with the heavy thump of coins striking wood. She slipped out of her clothes without paying them any mind. She froze, one foot perched above the bath.

The last time she'd seen a naked girl was on a summers day three years ago. The four of them, Him, Paul, George and Becca had gone swimming. They'd done it before lots of times but that day was different. Paul took one look at Becca's chest and made a stupid joke about dumplings and clams. Becca had pulled her dress back on and ran off crying then George chased after her. Paul really deserved a smack about the ears that day.

Then again Jane had to admit, that she, or rather he at the time, had been sneaking the odd glance. It made her face flame to think of it now. She didn't look exactly like Becca. for one her breasts where bigger, they stuck out, filling her palms when she cupped them. They were softer than the rest of her, and the nipples extra sensitive. They felt, well nice, and Jane didn't mind having them. Wasn't that a strange thing to think?

Her skin was smooth again. Over the last year John had been growing hair on his leg, arms, and even wisps on his chest. All gone now, there was only a dusting between her legs, forming a faint line on either side of the slit. The slit itself wasn't anything special, just a fold of skin.

With that she stepped into the bath. It was a small hip bath, the water didn't even come to her waist when she was sitting down, and there wasn't room for her knees without serious contortions. Paul once told her that in Hillfort they had bath houses where a body could submerge up to the neck in hot water. Jane wasn't sure she believed him. He'd never been out of Lambford. Heating that much water was more trouble than it was worth.

she ladled the hot water over her body, then rubbed it with the rose scented soap her mum made. Mum had used it on John when he was little, at least until the day he'd declared himself too old to be washed in the hip bath in the kitchen. Now here she was, washing indoors like a little kid.

When Jane was squeaky clean, she even cleaned dirt from under her nails, she stepped out of the bath. She dried with the sheet, wringing it out over the tub when it got too damp, then pulled the shift over her head. It was a simple garment, a straight fabric tube that covered her from shoulders to below her knees, and two straight bits sewed on for sleeves.

"Mum, I'm ready." she called.

Her mum rushed back in so fast the plates rattled in the sideboard. She purred more water into a bucket. "OK, get your head over this and we'll see about getting your hair washed."

Jane lent over the bucket and let her mother do the work of wetting her hair and running the lye solution through it. She wrinkled her nose at the biting odour. It was harsh stuff and getting it in your eyes was not a pleasant experience. "Mum, I didn't know I had an Aunt Cordelia."

Mum spent several minutes rinsing Jane's hair and running a comb through it. Jane thought she would not answer when she finally cleared her throat. "Cordelia was my twin, we weren't identical but still we were close."

Jane wrapped a dry sheet about her hair and helped her mother wring most of the water out. "So why haven't you told this story?"

"It was so long ago." Her mother said, placing a chair with its backrest to the fire. "sit here and let your hair dry."

"Cordelia and I used to do everything together. Then the war came. After we had to flee the farm, your aunt got it into her head to join the army."

Jane got up from her seat again, then pulled the shift smooth and sat back down. Her mother draped yet another drying sheet about her shoulders and spread her black hair out on it so it would dry faster.

"And then?" Jane asked.

"Well, she cut her hair, and off she went. The recruiter must have been half blind to signed her into the guard. How she did it, surrounded by all those young men day in day out, I don't know." Mom said, letting her hands drop to her lap, as her eyes filled with tears. "She was at Keldar's Keep, when it fell to the Orcs."

"Oh." Jane said, Everyone knew about Keldar's Keep. It was a massacre. hundreds of people had sheltered there, and the Orcs killed them all. "I'm sorry Mum, I guess I understand why you don't talk about her much."

"You know the rest." I looked for my sister after the Duke's men turned back the Orc horde. There was no trace of her, instead I found your father and here we are. "

Jane shivered. While not as large as Ogres, Orcs where fearsome creatures and quite intelligent. They were smart enough to forge iron and formed vast hordes whenever a strong leader emerged. People said they liked to eat their captives while they were still alive. If she hadn't died in the siege, her aunt may have suffered that fate. No wonder mum never talked about her.

Once her hair was dry, mum helped her into the blue dress and a darker kirtle. She combed the hair on the left side of Jane's head then separated it into three large bunches. "It's a good thing that spell grew your hair out some."

"I don't know why women don't just cut their hair shorter. It's been getting in my way all day. At least until I found the tiara."

Mum weaved the strands together, working a blue ribbon in among the strands. Once she was down low enough, she held the hair where Jane could see it and continued. "You have a tiara?"

"Yes, it's got a sun stone in it, and I know a spell that can make it glow."

Mother finished with the left side of her head and moved on to the right. Hair care seemed to take a long time, but her mother would not allow a haircut, even if she had chased after her to get one only last week.

"There now, all done. Let me get the looking glass."

Jane looked in the glass, and it took her breath away. black glossy hair surrounded a pale face. Her eyes where dark blue, darker than she remembered. The ribbons in her hair matched their colour perfectly. Her new face was heart shaped, the forehead broad and flat above a small straight nose and cheeks that dimpled when she smiled.

"I'm beautiful," she said, looking at her mother, with tears welling in her eyes. "I really look like a girl. I was afraid I'd look like a boy in girl's clothes."

Jane's first week as a girl passed in something of a Blur. Her mother delighted in having a daughter. She filled Jane's days with lessons in cooking, sewing and the other skills of hearth and home. By week's end they had sewed an entire set of everyday clothes including a shift, dress and kirtle. They were plain for the moment but her mum was already talking of embroidery, just as soon as she had a second set sewn.

Jane pricked her fingers dozens of times, and would have packed it in entirely if not for Becca. The old gang would never go back to what it was. Paul had avoided her all week, no small feat in a village the size of Lambford. And George still couldn't exchange two sentences with her without getting tongue tied. But she had a new kinship with Becca.

The morning sun didn't reach Jane's loft. But the heat did. It soaked through the shingles, many of which John had repaired the previous summer. The loft would grow hot soon, and Jane was already feeling queer. a lump of pain sat in her stomach and her skin felt clammy.

Jane cast off her light sheet. Underneath, her shift was dark red from the waist down. She looked at the mess; her hands pawing at the sticky fabric then she screamed.

Mom's head poked up at the top of the ladder. "Jane, dear whatever is the matter?"

"I'm bleeding," Jane squeaked. Pointing at her bloodied shift.

Mum sighed, "I was hoping we would have a little more time."

"this can't be normal, I need, druid Starskie, but he hates me, and there's no other doctor."she said in one breath, then gulped air.

"No dear, you are not dying." Her mum said, her voice calm. "It would seem you have reached your flowering time, and that means we need to talk. Now, I'll warm some water, and get you a clean shift, you come down when you're ready."

By the time Jane descended on shaky legs the Hip bath was out again, and the giant copper kettle was hanging over the heather.

"shift off."

"Mum!"

Her mum sighed and moved to pull the bloodied shift up. "you've got nothing I haven't seen before, and your father won't be back till lunch."

Jane allowed her mum to undress her and stepped into the still empty bath. The blood coated her thighs, and even as she watched more oozed from her girl part. "what's a flowering time?"

"When a girl becomes a woman her body follows a cycle. Once every moon she bleeds. Don't worry it should stop in a couple of days. "

Jane gulped and stared at her mother. "This happens every moon! But why?"

Mother poured a bucketful of steaming water. "No one knows exactly, but it has something to do with having children. Once the cycle stops a woman can no longer have any."

Jane wiped herself off with a clean damp rag, which until a few days ago, had been one of John's shirts. She sighed as the dried blood dissolved off her skin.

There was a knock on the door. "Hello, Its only me." Becca called from outside.

"Come in dear," Jane's Mum said.

Becca waddled across the room. her blonde hair was already escaping its braids and her face was red and puffy looking, just from walking across the village. Even at her new reduced height Jane was still taller than her friend. At five feet tall and ready to give birth any day now, Becca looked alarmingly large. She only glanced at Jane before sitting down beside the kitchen table, "It will be a hot day."

"Hello, I'm naked over here, could you?" Jane said, gesturing for Becca to turn around.

"Honestly Jane, we used to swim together in the creek every summer." she said, slipping her feet out of her clogs and resting them on a second chair. She looked down at her belly "I hope these two come out soon, Its getting hard to carry them, and I can't go a glass without needing the chamber pot."

"Jane's flowering." her mother said as she set a smaller kettle over the fire for tea.

Jane turned her back on the room and finished cleaning herself up, then grabbed the clean shift and pulled it over her head. "What am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? I promised Mr Brewster I'd help with the caravan coming through this evening."

"So you do it." Her mum said.

"But I'm bleeding from places I didn't even have a week ago."

"That's why we need to finish a few more shifts, You'll want a fresh one this evening I expect. Anyway why don't you finish dressing, we'll have some breakfast then you and Becca can head on over to the tavern."

Dressed and feeling clean Jane sat at the table, eating bread and cheese. Beside her Becca grinned over her steaming cup of ginger tea. "You know there is a way to make your flowering go away for most of a year."

"How?"

Becca's grin grew even wider, and she patted her belly, then lent in to whisper in Jane's ear, "all you have to do is find a boy and."

'Ew!" Jane said and shuddered. She had wondered about her own romantic interests. Before the trip down the well she'd sort of maybe had a thing for Sam Skinner. But Sam hadn't been interested even before she became a girl. In any case she had been interested in girls. In her head Jane was still a boy, well mostly, and the idea of doing that with another boy. Jane shuddered again and glared at Becca.

Besides which there weren't any choices in Lambford even if she had been interested. Paul was out, for obvious reasons, and Becca had already claimed George. That left Darren Miller as the only boy around her age. The boy was dull as a plank, always had been and always would be.

"I'm never having children." Jane said, then bit into her bread.

Her mother patted her head in passing, "We'll see dear, after all you're still adjusting to your changes, not that I'm in a rush to become a grandmother. I'd have to get a cane and complain about the weather."

"Mum, you do complain about the weather, every wash day." Jane said with her mouth full.

After breakfast Jane chased Becca away from the dirty dishes and took them outside herself. The messy chore was best done in the garden, in a bucket, rather than inside where splashes would go on the floorboards.

She grabbed her satchel from the back of the door and slung it over her shoulder. The satchel was new. Made of oiled linen and spelled to keep water out it was a sturdy thing with thick leather straps and brass buckles. She bought it from a caravan heading up to Hillfort just four days ago.

"You're bringing supplies to do the dishes?" Becca said.

Jane hadn't left the cottage without it ever since she bought it. Inside she had her tiara, a skin of water, a vile of strength potion and three vials of healing lotion. She'd bought the vials from Agness Miller and taken over the kitchen to brew up her Sorrel and Mudcaps. "You never know when a rampaging wererat will attack."

"Is there even such a thing as a wererat?" Becca said.

Jane scanned the area as they emerged from the cottage, looking up and down the creek for any signs of trouble, there was no sign of wererats. They set on the step, and Jane washed the dishes, soaping them up in one bucket , then rinsing them in a second, half filled with clean water. In the wood shop across the yard her father was explaining the proper way to hold a broad axe when squaring timber. The familiar sound of the axe splitting divots off a log followed.

Jane washed the breakfast dishes. It was a familiar chore which had been her's for years and didn't take much thinking. Becca settled beside her, with her legs stretched out straight. "I'm going to need help getting up when you're done."

"That's not bad." Jane's father said in the wood shop, his voice loud enough to be heard over the chopping. Who was he instructing so calmly? It hadn't been like that when John was learning. His time in the wood shop was always tense.

Jane had tried to pick up her old life after her trip down the well. It had not worked out well. The first morning, still dressed in her mum's good clothes she'd gone into the workshop. They were making a simple set of shelves, which required blind dado joints. Then they would slide the shelves in from the back and wedge them in place.

After hours of struggling with the chisel and giving herself multiple cuts, she cracked the stop. Hours of work wasted with one tap of the mallet. Her transformation had cost her not only the wood crafting skill but valuable upper body strength.

Father had had enough and after berating her for the best part of a glass he declared that the wood shop was no place for a girl. This left him with no apprentice, and Jane with not much to do. Mum had solved Jane's idleness, and now her father had a new apprentice.

"OK Darren, why don't you take a break." Her father said. Moments later Darren emerged from behind the cherry tree. On seeing Jane and Becca his ears turned bright red, "Hi Jane. I'm sort of working for your Dad now, I hope you don't mind."

"No, it's fine. Dad and I didn't work well together. Especially after," she said waving a hand at the plain brown kirtle she was wearing over her dress.

"You, look real pretty." Darren said, then turned even redder. He stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a confused carp.

Jane's muscles locked. It was hard to breathe as she stared at Darren. It was the first time a boy had called her pretty. She should say something she supposed as she stared at the boy. He was growing an alarming shade of red.

Becca poked her in the side, and leaned in towards her, "Say something before he bursts."

"Thanks, Darren, I've got to go." She said, grabbing Becca's hand and dragging her up away from the cottage, so fast the pregnant girl had to jog to keep up.

"Jane, slow down. you know you left the dishes outside right?" Becca puffed, "and why is your broom following us?"

Jane looked over her shoulder at the broom, which was floating with its bristles a few inches off the ground, and drifting along a few yards behind them. With a sigh she let go of Becca and stomped back to it.

The moment her fingers touched it the magic holding it up dissipated. Broom in hand Jane resumed walking towards the village green, at a more leasurly pace this time. "This thing has a mind of its own I swear, If it wants to tag along, I best let it. You should have seen Dad try to go after it with the axe."

"Why did he do that?"

"Well, your granddad, said sorcery's evil, and Dad thought if he could get rid of the broom, all this would go away." Jane said, twirling the broom. She walked backwards for a moment, then spun around doing a fancy twirl and thrust. "He gave up after a glass, now he glares at it whenever he gets home. What was that about with Darren?"

"Think about it Jane, he's your father's apprentice."

"So what?"

"That's practically family, and when a man with unmarried daughters takes on an apprentice, you know what that means?"

"Gods? You think that Darren thinks? No way, I mean he's been mooning over Sam for years." she said as they ambled towards the village green, where several women where gathered round the fountain, buckets, ready for filling about their feet.

Jane drifted towards the group, her eyes on the fountain. The key stone on still bothered her. Why would someone bother to put dead runes on a magic stone? Worse yet there was something familiar about this magic, like Jane had seen it before.

"What have we here," Sam said, her tone frosty, "Is that John Greenway wearing a dress! How pathetic."

"Um, hi Sam." Jane said, looking at the younger girl. Sam had been on Jane's side, pretty well since that first day, so her sudden hostility was unexpected.

She had her nose wrinkled as if she smelt something foul, and made a gesture against black magic in Jane's direction. "Keep away from me you cross dressing freak."

"I'm not cross dressing, I really am a girl." Jane said, shifting and crossing her legs as she felt blood oozing down her inner thigh. Gods this would be an uncomfortable day.

Sam poked her shoulder with her finger, pushing forward with each poke.

"So you say, but how are we to know that. How are we to know you changed all the way? What if the curse was old and left you half and half?"

"Ew gross and no I'm all girl." Jane said. the sound of someone clearing their throat made her turn around.

While they were talking to Sam, a stranger had arrived. It was a woman, who looked a couple of years older, and at least a foot taller, than Jane. Copper hair tied in dozens of thin braids framed her rounded face. It wasn't that she was fat, far from it. It was just that her cheeks where full and dusted with freckles. Most strikingly she was wearing boys clothes, a tight fitting leather tunic that didn't even reach her knees and leather leggings. At her waist was a slender dagger in a leather scarab that matched her tunic in design.

"Oh, Hi Miss Hilldale." Becca said, "Were you looking for something?"

The woman smiled, making her cheeks dimple prettily. She circled the fountain, kicking the stones."I heard tell of a fountain, and I see I have found it. A neat bit of stonework, and it's magic they say."

"Yes Miss," Becca said bobbing a curtsy. "The water is always cool in summer and it never freezes in winter."

"Well, I've seen the sights of Lambford. Could one of you direct me to the druid's grove?"

Becca curtsied again, then pointed left. "if you follow that street back to the Mill road Miss, you'll come out right across from the grove."

"Thank's Becca, and I thought I told you to call me Hanna."

"Mr Brewster doesn't like me getting too familiar with guests Miss."

Hanna Hilldale, nodded at that. Jane wasn't sure if it was just her imagination but the adventurer seemed to frown when their eyes met. Then she was off. She looked shapely from behind too, with the way the hem of the tunic flicked from side to side as she walked.

Becca, tugged on her arm. When Jane bent towards her, Becca whispered into her ear, "The way you're staring Jane, people would think you're still a boy."

"You don't think?"

Becca giggled and dragged her towards the right-hand path that lead to the Brewster's. "I saw you in the hip bath just this morning, so no I don't think that. But you are drooling like a boy, now come on, the caravan could be here soon."

"I was not drooling, " Jane said as she stomped after her friend. "What's got into Samantha all of a sudden?"

"It's probably because of Darren, I mean he was flirting with you this morning."

Jane groaned. "Oh gods, does everybody think I will marry Darren, Its not happening!"

Becca just giggled and tugged her onward towards the Mill Road. They found Mrs Brewster at the outdoor kitchen where a row of freshly baked loaves cooled beside the earth oven. Mrs Brewster was a slender as her husband was large framed, leaving Paul somewhere in between. She wiped her hands on her apron and smiled up at them as they approached. "Well the bread is done, now it's just the lamb. Becca go sit down and rest your feet."

"But, I'm here to work."

"No buts, you'll work enough when the caravan arrives, now go rest. Now you Jane, see if that husband of mine needs help with his cakes. He's inside."

The Brewster's cottage was oversized, being almost twice as long as most. One half of it was a public room, with enough narrow tables and stools to seat half the village, though no one used it in the summer months. It was far more pleasant to sit out under the awnings.

Jane passed through the empty public room and rapped on the door in the back. "Mr Brewster it's me Jane."

He looked up from a concoction of ginger bread and cream he was layering together. Mr Brewster had accepted Jane's change of gender as a done deal. He treated her just the same now as he had treated John, and didn't even blink to see her in a dress, "Ah, perfect timing, Go see if there are any more preserved Cherries left in the root cellar."

A notification opened in front of Jane:

YOU HAVE BEEN OFFERED A QUEST. RETRIEVE THE PRESERVED CHERRIES. ACCEPT?

Jane's jaw dropped, she looked from the floating notification to Mr Brewster sitting at the table, "You're a quest giver?"

The man deflated, his shoulders drooping. "I'm an Innkeeper ain't I? Of course I'm a quest giver."

He slapped the table, making his confection wobble on its plate. "Damn! Quests can take a long time. By the time you are back, I probably won't have a use for the cherries. You best go armed, it's not a proper quest if there are no monsters to fight."

Jane nodded and took a firmer grip on her broom. "So you're saying there are monsters in your cellar?"

Mr Brewster set the cake aside. "Might be, they won't bother us villagers, but adventurers, well that's another story."

Jane stomped around the side of the cottage. The root cellar was dug under the cottage but had an external door built into the hillside. She dragged the short but heavy oak door open. A narrow staircase disappeared into the dark recesses of the cellar. She could go back to the cottage for a candle, or she could use her tiara. If this was a quest she'd want her hands free, she thought as she pulled the tiara out ouf her sachel.

"Jane, we need to talk."

Jane stiffened at the sound of Paul's voice, the Tiara still in her hands. She put it on her head and activated it before turning to face him. The light made Paul squint. He had a crutch under his left armpit and his foot wrapped in bandages.

She shifted her feet into a wide combat stance, holding the broom in a guard position. "I have nothing to say to you."

He hobbled towards her, not placing his bandaged foot on the ground. "Jane, I'm sorry, I need to explain."

She spun, bringing her broom round in a wide arc. The far end conected with Paul's crutch, reducing it to splinters. The boy cried out and fell to the ground at her feet.

"I don't want to hear it. We have nothing to talk about you traitor." she hissed, turned her back on him and ducked under the cellar door.

"No, I guess we don't." he said in a small voice.

The door swung closed behind her, cutting off anything else the traitor might have said. Still breathing rapidly she rushed down the stairs. The nerve of that thief, thinking she would forgive him for robbing her and leaving her for dead. It wasn't happening.

She continued past the kegs towards the back of the cellar where the actual root crops and preserves where kept. When she turned the corner towards the shelves she froze, her eyes locked on the small figure before her. He or she was the size of a rat, but looked otherwise human. A tiny little person, dressed in black, with a small straw hat and a handkerchief covering most of his or her face. The little person held the jar of cherries, in both arms.

"You had to go for the cherries didn't you? Hand them over, you little thief."

Instead of obliging her the little person, turned tail and ran behind the shelving, carrying off the cherries. Jane rushed in pursuit, at least as far as the shelves. They were made of heavy oak and wedged in place between tehr roof supports. The space behind them only four inches wide, far too narrow for her. There was a tunnel, disappearing into the darkness.

"If only I were smaller." Jane said as she crouched down, so her tiara would light up the tunnel. Was there a spell for that? Well she knew one for growing bigger, but that would not help, she thought as she paced from one end of the shelf to the other. "I don't suppose I can reverse it."

Jane stopped in her tracks? Why couldn't she reverse it? If the spell made her larger, then if she said it backwards, and focused her mind just right. She sat cross-legged on the floor, heedless of the dirt she was getting on her skirts and rested the broom on her knees.

She imagined the room looking larger as she shrank to stand no taller than the little thief. Small enough to fit under the lowest shelf and follow him into the darkness. "GIB"

It felt like being squeezed. For a moment her insides twisted until she feared something would burst. She gasped and opened her eyes. She was still sitting on the floor, but now the lowest shelf was above her head.

Jane made her way along the shelves, following the path the little thief had taken. Two inch legs made the trip much longer. When she reached the corner she peered down the tunnel tucked behind it.

At this size, the dirt itself was firm enough to not need bracing. Her staff at the ready she stepped into the tunnel.

The ground sloped down and was barely wide enough to walk in, maybe three inches across and four or five inches high. As near as Jane could tell it headed towards the heart of Lambford. The tunnel looked well travelled with footprints layered over footprints. Today was not the first time that the thief had visited Mr Brewster's cellar.

By Jane's reckoning she had to be beneath the Mill Road when the tunnel opened into a much larger underground space. it was another Tunnel only this one sized for human use. apart from the odd spot where soil had fallen inwards the walls looked white and glossy, like melted wax.

Only it wasn't wax. When Jane brought her face close she could see into the surface. It was more like cloudy glass than wax. Jane licked her finger and rubbed it against the wall and brought it back to her lips. Salt, the walls where made of hardened salt.

The salt tunnel turned here. On her left the tunnel looked clean as it head off toward the mountings, stright as an arrow as far as her light reached. On her right traces of dirt marred the floor and the tunnel turned towards the heart of Lambford.

She turned right and jogged down the broad tunnel, taking care to swivel her head to scan both walls, the salt continued unbroken on both sides until she came to a larger cavern lit by magic.

It was a circular space, at least ten yards across and five yards high. Water rose from a crack in the centre of the room, and headed upwards, to pass through a large leather funnel. Salt fell from the edges of the funnel, to pile on the floor while the water continued towards a hole in the ceiling.

Magic swirled about the room, in now familiar patterns. It was the fountain. Jane was under the fountain. she circled the column of water and the funnel. The leather was tatooed with magic glyphs just like the pieces she had found under the well. She stuck a finger into the stream of water then brought it to her lips. It was salty.

She squinted at the funnel. if she could reach above it she suspected that the water would be fresh, but there was no chance of testing that idea at the moment.

Movement on the far side of the room made her jump back, she wasn't alone. The thief from the cellar was watching her, the jar of preserved cherries sitting behind him on a tiny doorstep carved from the salt wall.

Jane broke into a run heading straight towards him. "Hay give that back you thief."

The man produced a staff, six inches long. He held it out in front of him then blurred into movement, swinging the staff in a complicated pattern of strikes and blocks.

Jane smiled. she dropped her satchel against the wall and stepped out of her clogs. The salt was slick under her bare feet. She coppied his stance and struck out with the staff repeating the routine strike for strike and block for block. That extra point she'd put into staff fighting was sure paying off. "Bring it pipsqueak!"

He launched himself towards her. Staff met staff with a crack that sounded loud despite their small size. Jane's world narrowed until there was nothing but her opponent, and they danced. The little man was good, at her current size she suspected he was stronger than she was. But Jane was faster.

Minute by minute she gained the upper hand. her adversary was slowing, the ends of his staff wobbling as he parried and thrust. Finally her staff found a gap in his defences striking his hand hard enough to make him drop his weapon. jane rushed him, knocking his staff clean out of his off hand, She pressed the end of hers against his throat, pinning him against the wall.

He had lost his straw hat, revealing ordinary looking brown hair that was tied back in a low ponytail. His brown eyes looked sad, begging her to release him.

"Don't hurt him! We'll give them back," a girl cried out.

Jane glanced towards the little door. There was a child there. she was barefoot and in a ragged dress, her hair an unruly mess about her face. She struggled with the jar of Cherries, which was almost as tall as she was. "Please don't hurt my brother."

The tiny child dragged the jar towards Jane's satchel and left it there before retreating to the door.

Jane gulped, they're thieves she reminded herself, just like Paul, they stole from Mr Brewster. She backed away from the brother, her staff still in position to strike if he tried to move, but he didn't. His right hand hanging limp at his side, the flesh about his wrist swelling. She reached the spot where she had left her clogs and stepped back into them and slung the satchel back over her shoulder.

At her current size that Cherry jar would be a pain to drag back to Mr Brewster's Cellar. She regarded it, biting her lower lip.

The little girl broke from the door and ran to her still silent brother. There were tears streaming down her tiny face as she hugged him. The boy winced when she brushed against his injured hand.

Jane's hand drifted to her satchel. Fortunately it had shrunk with her. She fished one vial of healing lotion out and approached the pair. "here, rub this on his wrist and it will heal faster." she said.

The girl accepted the vial with a trembling hand. "Thankyou."

"What is this place? did you build it?"

"No Miss," the girl said, "The monster did it. It destroyed everything."

"What do you mean?"

"We are gnomes." The boy said, his voice was deeper than Jane expected. "We are the last of our village, our ancestors have lived beneath yours for generations. Once this was our grotto. We grew our own crops and did not need to steal from big jobs."

"Then the monster came." The girl said picking up the story. It drew salt water from a shell and filled our grotto. It destroyed everything our people had built."

The gnome boy closed his eyes, grunting as the girl rubbed the lotion into his swollen hand, already the swelling was reducing.

"It destroyed everything, they are all gone. when the elders decided it was time to leave mother was sick, and we had to stay behind." he said, "I know stealing is wrong, but we have no food."

"And your mother?"

"She died."

"So why stay here? Shouldn't you follow your people?"

"We don't know if they made it, or where their new home is." The girl said, looking down at her brother, her voice sounded hollow.

Jane stepped away from the pair. "I'm sorry, Keep the cherries, I'll try to help you, but you can't steal from Mr Brewster anymore."

As Jane trudged back up the long corridor, a notification appeared in her vision:

"YOU HAVE FAILED A QUEST."

She dismissed it and kept walking. Moments later her skin tingled. Her guts twisted making her collapse to the ground, squeezing her eyes shut as vertigo washed over her. When she opened her eyes again, the tunnel had shrunk. Or rather she had resumed her normal size.

When Jane stood up her head almost brushed the salt ceiling. At least the spell failed before she reached the mouse hole. The thought made Jane wince. Expanding to her full size in there would have been fatal. "Well now I'm here I guess I should explore. There must be another way out of this tunnel."

She retraced her steps to the central chamber. There was no sign of the two gnomes, and from her new height the door to their home was invisible. She returned to the leather funnel. The water streaming upwards from its narrow end was indeed fresh and warm.

The domed room had four openings, how much of Lambford had this monster undermined with no one noticing? She chose the passage left of where she had entered and followed it. It twisted this way and that heading widdershins and hubwards by turns. She estimated she'd followed it for a mile and was ready to turn back when the salt gave way to bare stone. The path narrowed until Jane had to edged forward sideways to fit. it ended in a doorway that glowed with magic. Beyond it the water of the creek flowed. The barrier between air and water was smooth like a mirror. It didn't even ripple when jane passed her hand through it.

There was another sheet of leather mounted to the wall. It was the same as the one Jane had seen in the catacomb, erasing any doubt that it was a spell for keeping water out. That sealed it. There was another magic user in Lambford. The question was who?

Druid Starskie was the obvious choice, but was he the only choice? Jane thought about everything she knew of her neighbours and came up blank. If one of them had magic powers he or she had hid them well.

She crept towards the doorway and looked up, there was at most a yard of water between her and the surface. Getting soaked wouldn't be fun, but she had to tell someone about this.

Jane backed up to where the Tunnel was wider and undressed down to her shift, ignoring the dark stains that where spreading along the fabric. At least a quick dip would wash off the blood that was still oozing down her thighs.

She stuffed everything into the satchel, first her clogs, then the dress, rolled up tightly, and finally the Kirtle. With the flap down, and the straps done up the satchel would be water tight, at least for a while.

Back at the magic doorway she took three deep breaths and plunged into the water and kicked up towards the surface. It was deeper than she expected but several hard kicks got her to the surface. She paddled towards the far shore where reeds would screen her from the village.

Several yards into the frest, when there was no chance of some one seeing her, Jane pulled the shift off and wrung out as much water as she could. She stretched it out over a bush where it would catch the sun.

As she'd hoped the contents of her satchel had remained mostly dry, only the Kirtle was damp where water had seeped past the top flap. she wrung it out and hung it over a bush to air. The dress beneath it was dry and only required a shake to smooth out the wrinkles.

Jane spun about in her spot, listening for any hint of movement. This part of the forest wasn't used much but still getting found naked in the woods would be embarrassing. She held out for half a glass while her clothes dried in the afternoon sun.

She considered putting the dress on without a shift. It would be drier, and more comfortable but than she'd get blood all over it. With a sigh she replaced the damp shift and pulled the dress and kirtle on over the top. Decently dressed again Jane turned for home.

She heard raised voices before she could see the wood drying sheds through the trees. Without hesitation she picked up speed, almost running towards the cottage. and straight into a bolt of magical energy.

She landed spreadeagled on her back, the breath knocked out of her lungs and the broom out of her hand. Before Jane could move someone rushed her.
It was the adventurer who came to see the Lambford well, only she wasn't smiling now, her mouth was set, and her eyes narrowed as she held a spear at Jane's throat. "Do not move."

The druid stood behind her, his staff still raised and his eyes glowing. Other men from the village, armed with pitchforks and long knives formed a crescent behind the pair.

The druid cleared his throat, "Jane Greenway, you are hereby charged with sorcery most foul. surrender and you will receive justice, resist and you will be killed."

Jane's cell was made of living wood. It was a small circular space, just wide enough for her to sit against the wall with her legs straight. The floor was spongy and slightly damp when she pressed down on it. The walls where angled outwards, making a comfortable backrest. Light came in through several narrow gaps high above her head.

The villagers had seized her hours ago and brought her here, She'd been too shocked to resist at the time, besides that Hanna girl looked like she knew how to use a spear, and was willing to do her serious harm.

She rubbed the small scab on her throat. Her mind went back to that moment by the wood shed, when she was on the ground, Hanna's spear pressing into her flesh.

"I didn't do anything." she had said.

The druid harrumphed, "where have you been for the last few hours?"

"I was chasing a gnome who stole Mr Brewster's preserved cherries, there are passages under the village."

"Do you expect anyone to believe such tall tales child?" The druid said.

Samantha Skinner broke through the crescent of men. She looked as frantic as Jane felt. She stood there pointing a shaking finger at Jane. "what did you do to my mother you witch?"

Jane shook her head, "I was in the tunnels, under the village, I didn't go anywhere near the Skinner's I swear."

"Child, you show up with powers, you were seen arguing with Ursula Skinner, and now she lies in an enchanted sleep." The Druid said.

"How do we even know that, that's really John?" Sam said. "What if it's some monster pretending to be her, I mean him?"

There were grunts of agreement, Sure none of the villagers wanted to harm a local child, but Sam's words gave them an out.

"Hang her." somebody said. It was just a whisper, and yet Jane heard it, and by the looks of it so did everybody else.

"No." the druid said, slamming his staff on the ground. "There will be no lynching! This child will be placed in custody, then we will summon a magistrate."

The crowd surged forward. Jane was pulled to her feet, her satchel ripped from her shoulder and her hands bound behind her back. She wasn't sure who did what, nor did she care? Half the village men surrounded her, while the rest had weapons trained on her parents, who where standing tightly together. For a moment Jane met her mother's eyes,

"Be brave", her mother didn't actually voice the words but here lips moved. Jane nodded in reply then looked away, not wanting to see the tears. Gods, even her father was crying.

"I didn't. I didn't." She repeated the words like a mantra as she was shoved and prodded through the village and towards the grove. When they arrived druid Starskie pressed his hands against a large oak and the trunk split open. The villagers shoved her inside, and the wood closed up again.

That had been hours ago. The sun had set, only to be replaced with the moon. Moonlight turned Jane's cell blue. It reminded her of Grom's phantom Tavern. "I could do with some moon mead about now." she said.

The wall beside Jane groaned and parted, splitting downwards until it was wide enough to show George crouching on the dirt, his hand pressed to the trunk. his hair was a mess, and he was wearing ordinary homespun instead of his novice robes. "Hurry, I can't keep it open long," he hissed.

Jane scrambled to her feet and jumped through the gap, grabbing her clogs in passing. Once outside she filled her lungs with cool night air. It felt good after spending half a day in a tree. She slipped her feet into her clogs. "George what are you doing here."

"I'm getting you out, what do you think I'm doing, Come on!"

"My broom."

"It's still behind your dad's wood shop." The druid tried but he couldn't move it, even when he cast a teleportation spell at it, but I've got your satchel" George said.

Jane took the satchel and settled it over her shoulder, it seemed heavier. She could just picture it, Druid Starskie growing red in the face as he hurled his magic against her broom, with an audience of villagers no less. Take that old man, she thought. It made her smile as she followed George through the trees towards the Mill Road.

"Becca and your mum packed extra food, and all that gold you brought back from the dungeon." George said, still keeping his voice low."

At the edge of the grove she pulled George into a tight hug, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn't cry. "Oh gods, say bye to everyone for me, I'll. No it's better you don't know."

She released him and turned, breaking into a run without looking back. She'd thought about leaving, ever since she became a girl. Well to be honest she'd been thinking about leaving Lambford before that. It was what adventurers did, they left home to seek adventure. But not like this, not slinking off under a cloud without even saying goodbye.

She sensed the broom long before it was visible in the moonlight. it flew straight into her hand, far faster than it ever did when she cast the flying spell. She glared at it for a moment, then continued at a more even pace. The worst thing was that if she left town, now she'd fail another quest. failing two quests wasn't a good way to start an adventuring career.

The answers had to be in the tunnels. Who would build salt encrusted tunnels under Lambford, and more importantly why? Whatever had happened to Mrs Skinner had to be connected.

Jane stopped, the Brewster's tavern stood just across the road from her. It was dark at this time of night, even with a caravan full of guards sleeping in the barn loft. She could sneak back in through the root cellar. Her confinement had given here ample time to eat and rest, and the shrinking spell wasn't particularly taxing.

She slipped her feet out of her clogs again, and gathered them in her left hand, then padded barefoot across the yard, hoping she wouldn't step into anything unpleasant. After all the caravan had at least a dozen horses.

"Hold it right there." A girl's voice hissed from behind her. "I don't know what you plan to do to these good people but I'm not letting you Witch."

It was Hanna, the copper haired barbarian girl. Jane turned to face her and adjusted her grip on the broom. They weren't alone, Paul was behind Hanna, moving silently despite the crutch under his arm. He gestured for Jane to keep talking.

"If I meant the Brewster's any harm, I'd have done it already. I didn't hurt Mrs Skinner, and I'm going to prove it."

"So who am I going to believe, a respected druid who has served this town for longer than anyone can remember, or a changeling who hasn't even been here a week?"

Jane kept her gaze locked with the other girl as Paul snuck up behind her. she didn't so much as twitch as he raised the crutch over his head and swung it towards her head. Hanna moved at the last possible moment, she ducked and twisted, bringing the shaft of her spear up to block Paul's strike. She whipped the blunt end forward shoving it into the boy's stomach. Paul offed as the air was knocked out of him and staggered back and lost his balance.

Jane jumped forward swinging her staff at the girl's knee, but Hanna was faster. She jumped the end of the staff and flipped backwards landing with her spear pointed at both of them.

Paul pulled himself up into a sitting position, his bandaged foot resting straight out in front of him. "Jane isn't going to hurt my family. I was there when she changed, and I can tell you she is still the same person she always was."

"But I saw her attack you yesterday." Hanna said,

"I may have deserved that. I saw an Ogre knock her senseless, I thought she was dead, and I ran." he said, his words rushing together and his eyes tearing up. "I'm sorry, Jane I really am, I should have made sure, but I was so scared, and I ran."

Jane stood at ease, allowing her staff to revert to broom shape. "So at which point did you rob me?"

"I didn't, it was fools gold, the coins we thought we found, they weren't real, they disappeared at sunset."

"So what happened to your foot?" Jane said

"You know how I said I could make that jump? Turns out I couldn't." He held his hands up about three inches apart. "Missed it by that much, by the time I looped down to it again, I was going mighty fast. Druid Starskie fixed it up, mostly. He said that letting it heal the rest of the way on its own would teach me a lesson."

"This is sweet and all, but I'm still arresting you." Hanna said.

Jane and Paul both glared at her.

"I'm telling the truth, and I can prove it. There are tunnels under Lambford, and something evil lives down there."

"So why come here?"

"There's a way in, in the root cellar."

"You don't think my Dad's got anything to do with this?" Paul said as he struggled back to his feet and hopped over to his crutch.

"No way, did you know he's a quest giver?"

Paul nodded as they fell into step heading towards the cellar door, completely ignoring Hanna and her spear. "So how did someone hide a secret door in the root cellar?"

"It's more of a mouse hole really, I used magic, the spell wore out before I got out."

"I'm coming with you." Hanna said.

Jane turned, her hands on her hips, and glared at the taller girl. "And why exactly would I take you with me?"

"Because I'll beat the stuffing out of you and hand you over to the druid if you don't, besides if there really is something down there your going to need backup. Hop-along isn't going to cut it." Hanna said, she dropped the point of her spear, until it was pointed towards the ground and held out her right hand. "Truce?"

Jane took the offered hand. Hanna had pretty hands, narrow with long fingers and neatly trimmed nails without even a hint of dirt beneath them. but her palm was rough and calloused. No matter how pretty the girl looked she was still a highland warrior. "Truce, I'm going to have to cast a spell at you."

"You're not seriously bringing her with us are you?" Paul said.

"No, I'm bringing her with me. Hanna is right, I can't take you into a dungeon with your hopping, what if we have to fight, or run?"

Jane rummaged in her satchel and found another vial of her healing salve, "here rub this in, it should have you healed up the rest of the way by morning."

Paul grunted, but took the vial, slipping it into his belt pouch. He glared at Hanna, "fine, but if anything happens to Jane, I'm coming for you, barbarian."

Hanna shrugged at that and fell in behind Jane as she descended into the cellar. Jane stopped on the stairs and fitted the tiara over her hair. "don't you dare laugh, I know it looks silly, but this thing is useful."

"I don't see..." Paul began, only to stop short when Jane made the sunstone glow, bright enough to chase the midnight shadows away. "oh.":

"Come on." Jane said leading the way to the back. "OK I'll shrink you first, then I'll shrink myself."

Hanna swallowed, "Do we have to go in this way?"

"It's this or the creek, and I don't fancy trying to find an underwater doorway in the dark." Jane said. She grabbed Hanna's hand again and said the word "GIB!"

The barbarian shrank to mouse sized. For a moment she curled up in pain then straightened, brandishing her tiny spear at the pair of them.

"You know, we could put her in a Jar now." Paul said, smiling down at Hanna.

"No Paul. You best head out now, or you'll be left here in the dark, and make sure you close the door."

"Fine, good luck I guess." he said.

Jane waited until he had hopped to the stairs and made his way out of the cellar before saying the word again. "GIB"

the twisting sensation was just as unpleasant as Jane remembered. Within a moment she was also mouse sized, she smiled at Hanna, who was still taller than her, and lead the way around the bottom shelf and into the gnome tunnel. "There are a couple of gnomes down here, they dug this part of the tunnel."

before long they emerged into the salt encrusted tunnels. Jane released the spell both on Hanna and on herself. Hanna looked up and down the tunnels, surprise written on her face. "What in the world."

"Told you so." Jane said, "wait till you see what's powering the fountain."

Jane lead the way towards domed room under the green. Hanna followed silently, her face grim. When they arrived, Jane went straight to where the gnomes door had been and started rummaging in her pack.

"What are you doing?"

"The gnomes live here, whatever made these tunnels destroyed their grotto." Jane said as she pulled out a hunk of cheese and dried beef. "I said I'd help them when I could."

she placed the food against the wall and knocked with her fingernail, hopefully the little girl and her brother would hear the noise and come to investigate.

Jane pointed at the tunnel she had used to escape yesterday. "I already tried that way, it's a dead end, so let's see what's down tunnel number three."

This tunnel descended sharply, so much so that wide steps had been shaped into the salt floor. Jane cast sideways glances at her watcher as they went. Hanna was still in her light leather tunic. It really didn't look thick enough to stop a blade. she held her spear loosely, in one hand so that it wouldn't bump on the walls or ceiling, her movements seeming dance like as they hurried down the passage.

"So why were you up so late?" Jane said, "I mean as far as you knew I was stuck inside a tree."

"My quest didn't clear." Hanna said, "The Druid hired me to capture the Witch of Lambford."

"And as long as the quest doesn't clear you don't get any experience points for it. I've got a quest too, and it has something to do with these tunnels."

The floor levelled off again. Jane figured they must have passed under Rills creek, and where now heading along the hubward road. Up ahead the tunnel turned sharply to the right.

"How come you don't wear armour?" Jane whispered as they approached the turn.

Hanna shrugged, "I'm quick, so did you see anything else down here, other than gnomes?"

The tunnel expanded around them broadening into a colonnade some fifteen feet wide. Columns lines both walls, spaced about four feet apart and a foot thick. Each one of them carved with images of fish and other sea creatures. in places the salt was dyed to make the images more vivid.

Jane and Hanna separated. Jane hugged the left wall while Hanna hugged the right. Between them they had eyes on every part of the colonnade they were exploring.

It was so different to adventuring with Paul. Hanna seemed to be taking this seriously. When she found a small chamber on her side, she caught Jane's attention with a click of her tongue. They crouched at the doorway, then advanced, again dividing the room, and watching each other as they searched the floor and walls.

Marks on the floor hinted that something heavy had been stored here in the past but the room was empty now, and the smooth salt walls gave no hint of anything else.

They continued down the colonnade. Moments later Hanna stopped. "Jane, the floor just shifted under my foot."

Jane approached, making her tiara glow brighter and dimmer by turns. She squatted down, to change the angle of the light, and then she saw it. A hairline crack marked out a square of floor and Hanna's boot was right in the middle of it. "There's definitely something there."

"Great," Hanna whispered, not even moving her mouth. "There are spikes in my pack, can you reach them?"

The pack hung low on Hanna's back, it was a simple leather sack with arm loops sewn onto one side and a drawstring holding the top close. Jane held her breath as she pulled the knot free and worked the leather open.

The spikes where easy enough to find, half a dozen of them, along with a small hammer. "Now what?"

"See if you can Jam the mechanism," Hanna said, "Jam a spike in, then, give me some space."

Jane did so, picking the corner nearest the column and working the spike into the gap between the pressure plate and the floor. Once it was well seated, she tapped it several times with the hammer. She retreated to the side chamber and peered past the doorframe to where Hanna was standing. "I'm clear."

With agonizing slowness Hanna shifted her weight off the pressure plate and stepped back, turned and ran. Moments later something clicked, and three thick spikes shot out of the wall, threw the space she had been standing. the ends of the spikes sank into the rock salt column, splitting it from floor to ceiling.

"Well, I guess we stick to the centre of the passage." Jane said.

Hanna wiped the sweat from her brow and looked back at the spot. "That and we keep checking for traps. There is bound to be more traps."

Their progress was much slower after that, they moved down the colonnade foot by foot, testing the floor before them with the end of their weapons. They found five more traps and three more storage rooms. The traps were scattered at random between the sides and the center of the colonnade, the storerooms were empty though all showed signs of recent use.

Finally they came to the end of the colonnade. By Jane's reckoning they had walked at least half a mile past the creek. A narrow doorway let them into another short tunnel perpendicular to the one they had just left. Beyond that was another room maybe thirty feet to a side. Two salt statues stood against the far wall, on either side of a massive double door. Magic filled the statues making them glow to Jane's sight.

"They look like guards," Hanna said, "you don't suppose."

The statues moved in unison marching across the space towards them.

"I do suppose." Jane said, then she focused her mind dropping into a casting state> The shift was getting easier with practice. she pointed her hand at one of the salt statues "ZAP!"

Lightening cracked from her fingers, arcing across the room to strike one of the salt golems. With a deafening crack it splitting it into several chunks.

Jane didn't just hear the sound, she felt it pass through her. All about them the salt walls fractured and melted. liquid salt flowed over the pieces of the golem she had destroyed, fusing them back together not into one golem but two.

Beside her Hanna looked woozy. she was shaking her head as if to clear her hearing and almost staggered into the other golems grasp.

Jane struck out with her staff. It was like hitting wet sand. the end of the staff dug into the surface, but when she moved back, it sealed up again.

The golem remained silent as it lumbered towards her, reaching out with hands as large as beer kegs. It battered her staff aside and seized her. Cold, wet salt seeped through her dress, chilling her skin.

Just like that the fight was over. One Golem held Jane out in front of it, the second had seized Hanna, and the third followed behind as they proceeded through the room and into the far corridor.

Hanna was shaking her head, as if to dislodge something, and here eyes looked glassy.

"Are you OK?" Jane yelled

"What?" Hanna yelled back. "I can't hear a damn thing over the ringing."

"Quiet." Someone said, it was a man's voice.

Mr Skinner stood before them. A fastidious dresser, Mr Skinner was never seen without a pressed linen shirt, and a leather vest so glossy that it shone in the sunlight. Now he was bare chested, revealing skin covered in complex tattoos that glowed with magic.

Jane sucked in a breath, Mr Skinner was the last person she'd expected to see, he hadn't even taken part in her arrest. For a moment their gazes locked. His eyes looked sad. His jaw worked, as if he was about to say something, then the tattoos flared. He closed his mouth with a snap and his eyebrows lowered. His posture shifting from stopped to upright. "There is no point in screaming. No sound will escape these tunnels."

Jane blinked. that was the most she had ever heard Mr Skinner say. Normally he would only nod and answer questions with a terse yes or no.

"Why are you doing this?" Jane said

"Orders." The man said, his face expressionless. He turned and lead the way further down the tunnel. moments later they entered another dome shaped chamber. here a pool had been cut deep into rock and filled with water.

At first the water was still as a mirror, then it rippled. A bony fin pierced the surface and then the creature emerged.

It was vaguely human in that it had a head, arms and torso but that was where the similarities ended. Covered in silver scales, from the crest like fin on its head to the long muscular tail. It balanced above the water's surface, its tail coiling through the water beneath it.

Large glowing eyes regarded them. The creature smiled revealing two rows of narrow dagger-like teeth. "Ah, fresh meat, what a pity I'm on a diet."

The scales melted as the creature advanced. It shifted from silver to flesh tones as they shrank. Hair erupted on the scalp and the tail split into two legs.

Samantha Skinner stepped out of the pool. She seemed unconcerned at her nudity as she stood at the waters edge. Her eyes still glowed, and the skin between her breasts was an angry red surrounding several fresh tattoos. She gave them a wide smile. For a moment her mouth was still filled with dagger-like teeth. She glared at Jane. "This is a surprise, you where supposed to be in a tree awaiting trial and execution."

This early in the Season the weather was still uncertain. It shifted between summer heat and winter cold. Down on the plains, it had been stifling, but it had grown cool as the trail rose into the foothills of the great range. Karl rode with only his white messenger’s cloak about his shoulders. All the better to show off his muscles, to any farm girls that might happen by. Not that he'd seen any farm girls, not since the lovely Lana, down in the Swift Creek village.

He smiled at the thought of the lovely Lana and her budding curves. Maybe he should have asked about a bride price, he mused, but then again if she gave this much to every warrior. He shook his head and tucked a stray lock of golden hair behind his ear. When they came down with the foals, he'd make some enquiries. Right now, there was another business to attend to.

The forest path split here, the left fork going into Ny's pass, and on into the hill country. The right fork meanwhile, meandered its way east, around the foot of Lokton the fire mountain. After several days ride it would arrive at the exact same spot as the pass. The people always went right, for the Ny's pass is filled with dark magic. At least that was the only answer Karl ever got when he asked about it.

But this trip was different. this time Karl was a warrior of the people. and a message rider, protected by the white cloak about his shoulders. His pouch full of message sticks from the plains villages. Most where boring things, saying how many foals this or that merchant would like in the new season. A few were more interesting, though Karl wasn't supposed to know that, for a messenger did not pry.

He looked once more at the fork. They'd be expecting him tomorrow evening. If he hadn’t dallied that extra night with Lana, he'd be on time. He shook his head again and smiled. No good hills girl would have permitted him to touch her like that. Even if he was a warrior now. But it made him late, and the elders would shake their heads at him, and mother would worry.

Karl loosened his sword, pulling a hand’s span of the metal out. The storm bronze blade gleamed golden in the sun, the edges as keen as he could make them. He let it settle again, and nudged his horse to the left. "Superstitious non-sense, Tal, let us see what lies in the forbidden pass."

The way continued straight and level for a league or more. Karl let Tal have his head and gallop over the hard-packed earth. At this rate, they'd be early rather than late. That could lead to questions. In Karl's fifteen winters of experience, questions were never a good thing. Maybe he should make camp early tonight.

Tal lurched to the side, when his hoof hit a dip in the ground, almost unseating Karl, and breaking him from his thoughts. He pulled on the rains and brought the horse back to a walk. Ahead the trail descended twisting left, then right around several boulders as tall as a man. "If this is the forbidden pass then why is the trail so clear?"

beyond the boulders, the trees seemed to grow twisted. Branches reaching down so low that Karl had to lie on Tal's back. They moved forward at a walk, following the bare earth trail. It grew dark, as the canopy thickened.

Karl looked back. It seemed there where trails between every pair of trees, snaking off in every direction. he pulled on the reigns and brought Tal to a halt. Eyes narrowed he scanned the forest again, and picked out the faint hoof marks Tal had left. "Maybe we should turn back, and be late."

He rubbed his chin, still bear of whiskers as it was. If he turned back now they'd be two nights late instead of one. But better late than dead. Damn you, Lana, he thought, I don't care what your bride price is. With a heavy sigh, he turned Tal around and started picking his way back between the twisted pines.

The sun moved down the sky, and the shadows swung around to the north east. He squinted through the gloom picking out the hoofmarks. Then before his eyes, they wavered and reversed direction.

Karl hopped down from Tal's back and squatted, tracing a hoofmark with his finger. The curve of the toe pointed in the direction he was going. The forest here looked, stunted, the trees short and twisty and dense. So dense that afternoon could be confused for dusk, and any hint of the land's contour was obscured. "How in the world, did we get turned about so Tal

The horse whined in answer, it seemed a pitiful sound. Eyes watering, he stood up and remounted Tal and turned him around again. They set off at a slow walk. Picking out hoof prints from hoof prints was hard work. Especially as they would not stay still like hoof prints should.

He persevered until he came to a clearing, where several Beech trees had poisoned the ground. Here the tracks crossed going north to south, and east to west. he gazed up at the Beech grove. It stood tall and straight and slender, in marked contrast to the surrounding trees. "We have not been here Tal, and yet I could swear these are your tracks."

Indeed, the left rear hoof mark had a small twist in it, where a stone had chipped away the edge of Tal's nail. it was as sure a sign as any that he was still following the right tracks, and yet. He made the sign against evil and pulled his waterskin from where it rested against Tal's flank. The water was tepid and stale, but still welcome.

"Ipabog, god of the hunt," He bellowed, "Guide your hunter to his rest. And I will make right sacrifice upon the next hunt. Half my kill, no all my kill will go to you."

If the god of the hunt heard Karl's plea he did not answer. He drew his sword and strode to the nearest tree trunk. And cut two long angled grooves in the bark. "North is this way Tal, " he said, gazing through the canopy and tracing the shadows, "at least I think it is."

He proceeded on foot, leading Tal, on a rope. Eyes watering from the strain of not blinking, as he tracked. The leaves rustled, in a gust of unexpected wind. for one moment the canopy opened, and a spear of sunlight hit Karl's sword dazzling his eyes. he blinked furiously to clear his vision, not moving an inch until he could see again.

Just ahead a stand of beech trees broke the monotony of the twisted forest. Sword clasped in a death grip, he scanned the trunks. And there on the nearest tree was the mark he had cut. Two diagonal slashed pointing back the way they had come.

Karl dropped to his knees and prayed, his eyes growing hot with unshed tears. "I am a fool Tal," he got out between silent sobs, "and I have killed us both."

About him the forest was eerily silent, Even Tal, didn't seem to be making a sound, as he stood beside Karl. And then just at the edge of perception, he heard a girl singing in a language he did not know. The sound seemed to be coming from the left of him.

Karl got up off the ground, gripped his sword firmly, and took up the lead rope again. He strode forward without looking at the ground. Ignoring the treacherous hoofprints. A handful of steps took him out of the beech grove and into the twisted forest. His Ears said that whoever was singing, she must be up ahead.

The trail wove between two boulders as tall as a man. Karl dared not breath as he almost lunged forward, dragging Tal behind him. But the clearing on the other side was not the straightway he had galloped down earlier. Instead, a wide meadow, opened before him. The ground covered in grass and flowers. Beyond that, Mt Lokton rose into the sky, and at is foot a circular pool steamed like an overgrown pot. In the pool was the singing girl, and she took his breath away. All thoughts of the lovely Lana flew straight out of Karl's head. After all what mere farm girl could be called lovely compared to the one that was before him.

Hair the colour of smouldering embers tumbled over smooth shoulders and down her sun-kissed back. She was tanned all over as if she did not bother with mundane things like clothes. A careless half turn, revealed a glimpse of high firm breast, the areola's pink, against the tan.

The sword fell from Karl's hand, landing in the grass. He stumbled forwards, untying the messenger’s cloak from his shoulders. He almost fell pulling his boots off, and then untied his breeches and loincloth, leaving them all in his wake.

The water was warm, almost hot, as he waded in, and headed towards the girl, that could not be a girl, not here, not now. A small voice yelled that he should run. He remembered winter nights by the campfire when he was just a boy. And the Stories Sara told, of spirts that tempt men to their doom.

But this was a girl, a beautiful naked girl. She was only an arm’s length away now. He reached out and touched her shoulder, "fair maiden."

The girl grew still, her song cut off. The water rippled about her narrow waist, and Karl’s heart nearly stopped. She turned, and her breasts where everything he had imagined, firm, and round.

"Who disturbs my bath?" the voice was deeper than he expected, and yet as clear as a bell, and then she laughed, "But it’s just a boy."

He jerked back as if from a slap. "I'm, no boy, I'm a warrior of the Bronze Hill tribe." Karl said, puffing out his chest, "My father is the finest Bronze Smith in the hills."

She clicked her tongue, and smiled at him, then folded her arms over her chest, "Go away boy of the Bronze Hill tribe. Take your messages and get back on your horse, and let him lead you home,"

Karl's heart pounded in his chest, he could feel the blood rushing though him, and his groin was almost painful. He lunged forward to grab her, but somehow, she was out of his reach again.

He followed, pushing through the water and lunged again, only to lose his balance and fall heals overhead. He came back up sputtering.

The girl was some distance away, watching him over one shoulder, arms still folded over her breasts. Her eyes shifted from rich earth brown to a molten yellow. "Foolish child, haven’t your elders warned you what happens to boys who play with spirits?"

The water closest to the girl was beginning to bubble, the surface rolling. Even from several feet away Karl could feel the heat building, as the water churned. He slapped the surface and roared his frustration, but he turned around and stomped back the way he had come.

Who did this spirit girl think she was, calling him a boy, she couldn't be much older than him anyway. It was then that he noticed the cloak. made of black cloth and feathers in all the colours of the flame, yellow, and orange, and bright red. It lay folded neatly a few paces from the pool, and not far from where he had shed his boots.

He turned his face from it as he emerged from the lake. The cold air hit him, making him shiver, but calming his excitement. Yes, I do remember the stories, he thought, as he stomped towards his boots. Then at the last moment, he lunged to the side.

The cloak was much heavier than he expected and as hot as a forge. it felt like his flesh was melting, he could almost smell the scent of burned meat, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he turned and looked at the spirit girl, meeting her glowing eyes with his own. "I claim you spirit," he said, in a shaking voice, "as my wife."

The pool boiled, sending steam bellowing into the air. Clouds of it rolled over him thicker than any fog. When it cleared the maiden was gone and in her place stood a little girl, shoulder deep in the mirror still pool. Her face was still beautiful, in a childish way, the skin still tanned. Her dark red hair in an unruly mop, "please, let me go, I'm too young for a husband, " she said, tears welling in her eyes.

The pain was fading now, the cloaks magic ebbing away. Karl shook his head and blinked furiously, "I will not. You are trying to trick me wife, and I forbid it. Come and serve your husband. and stop looking like that."

She walked towards him, growing older with each step. Her form shifted from child to young woman, and by the time she reached his spot on the shore, she was almost as tall as he was. She stood on the bank, hands loosely at her sides, and eyes cast down towards his toes.

Karl licked his lower lip, his eyes roaming from her breasts to the patch of dark red hair at her groin. She was shorter than he expected, the curves of her body less pronounced, "You've changed again."

"Yes husband," she said, her voice soft and melodious, " I have adjusted to match your age, it will make things easier."

He nodded at that and strode back up the clearing, still holding the feather cloak in both hands. While he had it she had no choice but obey, at least that is what all the stories said. "Fine, please gather my clothes, and make camp."

He stowed the cloak in Tal's saddle pack with his own hand and pulled the drawstring neck tight. If the stories where right, she now could not touch it unless someone gave it to her. "I guess we can camp here for the night unless you know of a better place?"

the naked girl, shook out Karl's clothes and folded them neatly. Watching her move was mesmerising. she moved with a slow grace, her breasts bouncing ever so slightly.

Karl unfastened the sleeping furs from behind the saddle. When the girl approached they exchanged burdens. "What should I call you?"

"My name is Solacia, " she said, still not meeting his gaze, "but I can assume another if you want."

Karl shifted from foot to foot, conscious of the cooling evening air. he pulled his loincloth and breeches back on. "I'll see about getting some wood for a fire."

he didn't dare venture far from the clearing, least the whole thing disappear on him again. The familiar task gave Karl's brain time to catch up with what he had done. Binding a spirit was the stuff of stories, not the real world, and now he had one. What would mother say when he brought a naked girl home? Surely she must have some clothes other than that feather cloak.

The sun had disappeared bound the western ridge by the time he returned, plunging the clearing into an early twilight. Solacia had dug a fire pit and set out the bedroll beside it. She also had his copper pot and other supplies for dinner unpacked. "This pot is a little small for two."

"Aren't you cold?"

"I don't get cold," she said, finally looking up at him. her eyes looked luminous and green like tarnished copper.

Karl shifted conscious of his growing desire to do things that he had only heard about. he tugged his breeches into a more comfortable position and set about building a fire. The naked girl crouched beside him. her body seemed to radiate heat, even at a few hands distance. She sorted the larger sticks while he arranged kindling, handing them to him at need.

Soon enough the fire was lit and a stew was bubbling away. Karl set on his, no their, bedroll and watched the girl in the firelight. the sight was still mesmerising, so much so that he was half shocked when she handed him a steaming pot of stew. She'd made it with the dried meat he had carried flavoured with mushrooms and freshly picked herbs.

He paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth, looking down at the head of a mushroom. Solacia couped a second mushroom out with her fingers and popped it into her mouth. "It’s not poisonous, a bound spirit cannot harm her human."

They ate slowly, sharing the pot and the spoon, seeing as Karl only had one of each. Tal, combed and freed from his saddle and packs, grazed on the rich grass nearby. An owl hooted in the distance, and small things rushed through the leaf litter. But The girl did not speak, and Karl could not think of anything to say.

After the meal, Solacia took the pot and spoon to wash, and Karl undressed for bed, watching the naked girl. His hands shook, as he unknotted his loincloth and set it aside. And he gulped several times as she walked back towards him.

She slid into the furs beside him, still without a word. Her skin hot smooth, and yielding where they touched. He leaned over her and kissed her lips, and trailed a finger about one breast, and down her side. "You could kiss back."

"Yes master," she said, in a soft and oddly even voice.

"Sola, don't call me that."

Solacia met his gaze levelly, and without expression. "You have hidden my feathers, and I must obey you. that makes you my master."

Karl, almost flinched at her words, rolling as far away as the furs would allow. He looked out at the dark forest, his mind in a whirl. Was this what this was? Master and slave, but he wanted her, he loved her. He could feel the heat coming off her skin, warming his back. The other nights on the road had been cold, but not now, not with Solacia in the furs with him. "My name is Karl," he said, "And I am your husband."

Solacia, shifted behind him, pressing herself along his back, and warming him anew. One hand rested on at his waist, then moved forward. he felt her breath on his ear as she whispered into it. "As you wish, you may continue."

Heart pounding Karl rolled back, and kissed her deeply, glorying in the softness of her. He rolled until he was above her, braced on his forearms, he moved his hips, stabbing down, and slipping along her inner thigh.

Solacia groaned. he saw her copper eyes flash in the darkness. she reached down and guided him in.

It was like nothing he had experienced before, almost scoldingly hot, and wet and tight. He thrust forward, once, twice, and managed half a third before the orgasm took hold of him, and he was spent. The fatigue of the day, washed over him moments later.

Solacia shook beneath him. She was laughing, twisting to the side so she could bury her face in the furs, and yet her mirth shook her whole body. Karl remained there, his arms growing numb from holding himself up. "Um, did I do that right?"

She rolled them over and fussed with the blankets, until he was well covered, by the furs on one side, and by her on the other.
"It was rather quick," she said then started giggling again, "You really are still a boy, my Karl."

His energy spent Karl relaxed under the pleasant weight of her arm and leg draped over his body. what little sound there was, faded from his awareness. "I should bank the fire," he mumbled.

She caressed his face, and kissed one eyelid, "I'll take care of it, sweet dreams master"

"Don't call me master," he murmured, then sighed in contentment, moments like this made life so worth living. He sure would have sweet dreams. Dreams of his spirit wife Solacia.

"Karl," she whispered, then kissed his other eyelid, "can I have my cloak back?"

"Yes, anything, " he managed before sleep overtook him.

Somewhere a branch cracked, the sound of tearing wood reverberating through Karl's brain. He rolled onto his back, groping the furs for Solacia, but found them empty. He cracked open one eyelid, to search further.

The meadow was bright, the grass rimmed with frost so thick, that the blades of grass looked like fingers. The black coals of the fire likewise rimmed in white. The pool where he had first seen his wife, was as still as silvered glass, reflecting a sapphire sky.

With a yawn, he stretched his arms up above his head and uncurled his legs under the furs, then smiled. Where could that girl have got to? Last night was incredible, maybe they could do it again before leaving, he mused, shifting his head, to free his hair.

He sat up, and the world spun, making his stomach heave until he tasted bile at the back of his throat. Maybe those mushrooms were really poisoned, he thought as he collapsed back onto the furs.

"Solacia!" He called out then clamped a hand over his throat, his voice sounded wrong, too high, almost sweet. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Solacia!"

The voice was still wrong and it wasn't the only thing. He shook his head again pulling the hair where it was trapped under his shoulder. That wasn't right, he always kept his hair trimmed short enough not to bother with. Sure, some warriors sported braids but they seemed to require so much care.

Eyes Squeezed shut he rolled over and pushed himself up, hands braced against the ground. Vertigo assailed him but he rode it out, stomach clenched. The only time he'd felt like this was when Radek flinched a bottle of the headman's best spirits. It was during last year’s harvest festival, they'd hidden behind a woodpile and shared the bottle. They dared each other to take larger swallows of the stuff until the bottle was empty.

Right now, his arms were shaking, the muscles weak. He could feel the mass of hair tumbling about his shoulders, and a weight pulling at his chest.

Slowly he opened his eyes again, looking down at his hands. His breath caught. They looked like Solacia’s hands, tanned, the nails filed smooth. There should have been a scar on his left forearm, from the time he and Radek had tried to spar with war blades. It wasn't there.

"About time you woke up." Someone said from behind him, the voice reminded him of his fathers, but wasn't quite as deep.

Karl turned, pulling his legs into a crouch, and scanned the clearing. His sword was within reach at least. its frost covered scarab placed that way before they’d started on their lovemaking last night. "Who are you, Where's Solacia?"

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with hair that glowed like spun copper in the sunlight. Karl could be looking at an older brother or close cousin. The shape of the jaw, the eyes, all of it looked so like his own. Though the man before him had grown into his nose. His eyes didn't fit, instead of pale blue, they were green, like tarnished copper. Just like Solacia's eyes.

"Solacia, this isn't funny." he growled, or tried to anyway, it came out more like a squeak, "change us back at once. I order you."

Solacia grinned, showing bright white teeth. She fussed with the cloak about her shoulders. It looked short on a man and seemed to be made from perfectly ordinary brown and grey feathers. "It’s a bit late to be giving me orders girl."

Karl launched himself out of the sleeping furs, grabbing his sword in passing. It felt heavier then he remembered, so much so that he had to take a two-handed grip as he settled into a ready stance. "Change me back."

Solacia laughed and pulled out a sword that was half a foot longer than Karl's. it was of a similar design and had the same golden gleam to it. "You can barely hold up that sword girl."

Karl's eyes widened, and his arms shook, the sword point dipping in a way that would have his father hissing. "Where did you get that sword, my father is the only smith that knows the secret of storm bronze."

Solasia tossed her sword one-handed, letting the blade flip twice and then catching it again. "Is that what you call it? The dwarf I took it too was most impressed. No human has ever pulled off this alloy before"

"There are dwarves here?" Karl said, letting his guard drop. He stamped his dainty foot, "Stop trying to distract me, and change me back, right now Solacia."

Solacia rubbed her chin, "Hmm, Solacia really doesn’t work for me anymore, does it? Maybe Soltan, no Zoltan." he said with another grin. He then started pacing in a wide circle making a show of running his eyes over Karl's body, "Yes you can call me Zoltan. You don't look much like a Karl either, more like a Karolina."

"Why did you do this to me?"

"It’s too distracting talking to you like this," Zoltan said reshieving his sword. "Put some clothes on already."

Karl lowered his sword and took a hesitant step away from the furs. His messenger cloak and yesterday’s clothes lay within easy reach. He picked up the loincloth and wrinkled his nose. Somehow the idea of putting it back on rankled, which was strange. He'd never had an issue with it before. Instead, he pulled the messenger cloak on, it hung almost to his knees.

Karl shuffled around the fire pit, conscious of Zoltan following his progress. He got his spare loincloth from the saddle pack and warped it on. With that any remaining doubt of what Solacia had done was gone. His groin was now a slit, concealed by a sparse patch of copper hair. Karl sighed, and muttered under his breath "she turned me into a stupid girl."

The britches came next. They hung on her like sacks, bunched up uncomfortably about her slim waist. Worst yet they were too long, and she was likely as not to trip over. With a sigh, she took them off again and tried on Karl's old tunic. this was better, sure it still hung down past her knees, but it would do.

She glared at Zoltan, hands on hips, "why am I so damn short?"

Zoltan walked towards her, flicked a stick up from the woodpile in passing. It shimmered in his hands and then changed, becoming a belt woven from leather strands. Tanned brown and embellished with knotwork that looked like budding flowers. It was a girl’s belt. "Here, it will turn back into a stick next sunrise mind you."

"Will this fade at sunrise too?" Karolina said, glancing down at her dainty feet.

"No, that is a more permanent working." Zoltan said, "you were certainly eager enough to give me your manhood the other night. How could I refuse such a gift?"

Karolina's face flushed, she clenched his hands into fists and hammered with them on Zoltan's chest. "Well un-work it then spirit. What do you want from me?"

Zoltan's eyes flashed from green to almost white. He captured both of Karl's wrists in one large hand. "You imprisoned me, and forced me to bed you, and now you ask what I want?

Karolina refused to cry, or shake, or pee herself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean. Please change me back to myself. I'll pay, whatever you want."

"What I want," roared Zoltan, the veins in his neck bulging, "is for you to know what it’s like, to be caught, and bound and forced. But not by me. There are men enough to teach you your lesson." With that he let go of Karolina's hands and turned away, crossing to the tree line in a few long strides. "Goodbye Karolina of the Bronze Hill tribe."

Karolina dropped to her knees, her legs suddenly too weak to support her, "Where are you going, stop."

“I'm going to see the human world, maybe I'll visit the lovely Lana. Best get on your horse girl, he'll see you home."

"But, I can't go home like this!" Karolina cried, "take me with you, I'll be useful, I can hunt, and I know bronze work, and."

Zoltan shook his head, "No."

The sobs came of their own accord shaking her chest. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Arms wrapped around herself, she, for there could be no doubt of that, gulped several times. "I am Karolina, of the Bronze hill tribe," she whispered between sobs. "Karolina is a weak silly girl, can't even hold up a sword."

So lost was she in her misery that she didn't hear the frost crunching under Tal's hooves. She remained oblivious until the horse nudged her with his nose, its hot breath tickling her ear. The horse looked different, there was a light in its eyes that had not been there before. Perhaps Karl simply had not seen it or had not even looked. But to Karolina, the horse glowed with life. "I don't know what to do Tal, I can't go home, like this, what with Mother say, and Father, and everyone?"

She closed her eyes again, then wiped them. Mother, he'd caught her more than once looking at the other women with their daughters. Mother would adapt to suddenly having a girl of her own. And father had always been equal minded when it came down to it. He'd let the girls help in his forge just as readily as the boys. She looked back at Tal and sighed, "What a mess I've got myself in Tal. Won't father be surprised?"

The horse let out a long horsy breath and twitched one ear, before trotting back to the tree line. It lowered its head and continued grazing, pawing the grass with its front hooves to shake the frost off.

Karolina padded to the edge of the pool and looked down. She saw a girl in a tunic dress. The girl looked like a cross between Karl and Solacia, she was small, slim, but most definitely female. Her hair hung down past her shoulders and was the same copper red as Zoltan's.

She stayed there for some time, watching her own reflection. Her hands occasionally twitching as if to explore her new body, but then returning to hang by her sides. They’d be heartbroken, to have me just disappear, with no word of what happened, she thought. Eventually, Tal snorted from the edge of the meadow, breaking her meditations. "You’re right Tal, we can't stay here forever.

Just then her stomach rumbled. "But first some breakfast."

Her pack furnished some hard cheese and stale bread, which would do well enough with some nice warm tea. Unfortunately, her waterskin appeared frozen solid. How cold did it get last night for that to happen?

She gathered more wood for a fresh campfire, and left the water skin nearby to warm. The set about repacking her belongings. the useless britches and dirty loincloth went in first, folded neatly in one saddle pack. Her remaining provisions in the others.

The water skin was still hard. She sorted through the message sticks next, grouping them into bundles by family. Then shook hung the saddle blanket from a tree and proceeded to beat it with a large branch. before setting to the saddle itself, cleaning the leather as best she could. Though really without proper supplies all she could do was a wipe and polish.

That need cloth so she got out the loincloth and used the clean end as a rag. Then while the tea brewed she repacked the saddle bag, getting everything back into its place. Finally, she had her breakfast, though judging by the sun it was well past time for that meal.

Saddling Tal, was easy enough, or it would have been if his coat hadn't needed a good brushing first, but it did. She brushed him out thoroughly, then put on the aired saddle blanket and light saddle. Then she looked about the campsite, it was a shame to leave it in such a mess. "Tal, I think I'm stalling." she told the horse, "we should have been on our way ages ago, shouldn't we? Well better get to it before I decide to arrange the deadfall for anyone else who happens by here."

As she scanned the camp one last time she noticed Karl's boots and remembered that she was barefoot. Strange, that she didn't feel the cold. she wriggled her toes and found them still responsive. Still, boots would keep her feet clean.

She slipped her foot into one and then the other. Standing in them was easy enough, but the best motion she could manage was a waddle. She tried stomping back over to the frozen pool but gave up halfway. "I'll go barefoot Tal, it’s not like the cold bothers me any."

Mounting proved to be a challenge. Tal was the same size he always was, but Karolina had shrunk. The horse's withers where now at shoulder height, or a bit higher. She stood beside him, her hands pressed between his shoulder blades. Dipped down as far as she could without moving her hands and jumped.

She rose in the air maybe a foot, then her arms buckled, the muscles shaking, and she fell again. Her left foot came down hard on a stone.

She hopped on the other foot and rubbed the hurt one, "Ouch." She said, looking at the horse, "Why did he have to make me so puny? It’s like I've never done a day’s work in my life."

She undid the sword from her side, and attached it to the saddle instead, then tried again with the same result. Though this time she managed to avoid landing on any more stones. She lacked the strength and coordination to get pull herself up and over. And anyway, the tunic got in the way, tangling about her knees.

Eventually, she lead Tal over to a nice climbable tree and bade him stay put. She scampered up the tree and out onto a branch. From there it was a short drop down onto the saddle, then with a slight squeeze with her knees, they were off. "Home, Tal."

The horse lead Karolina out of Ny's pass and into the familiar hill country, just as Zoltan said he would. If only she'd done that in the first place instead of think with parts she no longer had. Then she wouldn't be in this mess, she sighed, "Time to face the drums."

As they left the frozen clearing behind, the world seemed more alive than Karolina had ever seen. Or rather more alive than Karl had ever seen. To Karolina's eyes, every tree had an inner glow, one that remained there even when she closed her eyes. Even the soil seemed alive, though nowhere near as bright as the plants. The small animals were even brighter. The forest floor was positively bursting with their sparks, as they scurried about.

Soon they rode out of Ny's pass and into the hill country that Karl had called home. This was open woodland, with wide grassy meadows and frequent small streams. It made for easy riding.

Eyes still closed, Karolina lifted her face up to the sun and cast out her new sense. She breathed it in, she smiled. Being a girl wouldn't be so bad, father would still teach her his craft. The elders would grumble about a girl bronze-smith, but they'd accept it. Once Father showed her the last step in making storm metal they'd have no choice. He'd been showing Karl the alchemical steps all winter. They now had several pounds of the white powder he called alum. As soon as the spring storms rolled in he would show here the final step, the magic that turned it into a metal.

"HOLD!" The shout came like a thunderclap jolting Karolina upright in her saddle.

Her father stood on the path, his war bow notched and half drawn, and a dark look in his eyes. Behind him, Radek, was leading a string of pack horses. Karolina recognised the sacks, they'd been storing the Alum in. No, it couldn't be, had Father shared their secret with Radek?

Father brought the bow up into a firing position, though still not at full draw. "I see my son's horse, and my son's gear, but I do not see my son. How did you come by my son's things girl?"

This story takes place in Morpheus's Twisted Universe.

Grand Canyon, Arizona

I sat in the shade, my legs sprawled out, in a vain attempt to catch more air. What with it being over a hundred degrees in the shade it didn't help much. A few years ago I would have been on the equipment with my cousin Suzie. I don't know how she did it, how I used to do it. Still living in Washington state I just wasn't used to Arizona Weather. Back home one hundred degrees was a heatwave, here it was a Tuesday.

Oblivious to the heat, Suzie was doing handsprings from one end of the play area to the other. Then she'd jump, do a half twist and start again in the other direction. Already several younger girls were joining in, or at least doing cartwheels in line with her. I sighed and pulled out my phone, refreshing my Facebook feed, still nothing since the PM from Amanda.

"honestly, Lee, you think you could put that phone down for one minute," mom said from the other side of the picnic table. Aunt Grace nodded in sympathy. "Suzie's been begging her father for a phone, since Christmas."

Good luck with that Suzie, I thought. My uncle Todd was a positive dinosaur, despite being Dad's younger brother. Old fashioned as it gets, it was a miracle that he let Suzie out of the house in anything other than a floor length skirt, though she still had to wear them any time they went to church, and stuff.

Mom picked up the last of the cucumber sandwiches, we'd had for lunch. The family at the next table had burgers from the kiosk. Thick, and glistening with cheese and bacon so crunchy I could hear it cracking from here. But no, we had to have healthy food, what with Suzie being in training for a gymnastics meet. I pushed away from the picnic table, still holding my phone, "I'll take a few photos."

"hay squirt," I said to Suzie as I passed. She was done with flips and was balancing above the horizontal bar in a perfect splits position. She looked over at me and blew a raspberry;.

"Say cheese short stuff," I said snapping a photo of her.

"Hay, you better delete that. I wasn't ready for my close up" she called after me.

The play area was covered by sails of shade cloth, arranged in vast triangles, high overhead. Beyond that, a hiking trail wended past. Somewhere to the left it switched back and headed down towards the canyon floor. A five thousand foot descent. I'd seen several groups start down earlier in the morning. Still, the edge would make a great place for a selfie. Well if not for the great big honking safety barrier that had to be at least five feet tall. Just because some people were idiots the rest of us didn't get to enjoy the view.

I leant against the barrier, and flipped the phone over, trying to angle it so it looked like I was living on the edge. but no matter what I did, I couldn't get the barrier out of the shot, it looked lame. Maybe I should have gone with dad to the city. At least the hotel had air conditioning and a pool. Dad was delivering his paper today; Evidence of Neolithic Hot Air Ballooning among the Plains Indians. It was interesting stuff even if Dad's delivery wasn't all that exciting.

Mum and aunt grace had shifted over talking to the woman at the next table over, and Suzie was now doing a handstand. Not on the ground, but still balanced on the bar, while a gaggle of other girls watched in amazement. If I got a bit higher, I thought, maybe I could get a photo without the dumb barrier blocking half of it.

Getting up to the handrail was no trouble at all, what whit the cross bars in the barrier. I squatted there for a moment, getting my balance. I scooted up as far as I dared, arching my back over the top of the barrier, this was going to be an epic selfie.

The phone played its shutter sound. Then the pain started. at first, it felt like pins and needles running down my back and arms. making my muscles spasm, so much so that I dropped the phone. Then lightning started to play across my skin, arcing into the wire mesh I was leaning against.

"Lee!" mom screamed from the far side of the playground.

The heavy wire of the barrier was glowing a dull red, and then it bent under my hand, the whole section I was leaning against tearing away. I was falling, blue sky filled my vision for a moment and tumbled away again. I saw the rock face before i crashed into it chest first, with a loud grunt.

The impact knocked the breath out of my lungs. I flailed my hands out trying to grab onto something, but I was already rebounding away into the open air. My body went head over tail, and I saw the floor of the grand canyon rushing up to meet me. I was twisting, that had to be it. The quantum lightning made my muscles spasm again and my vision dimmed around the edges. then I passed out.

Wallmart, Flagstone Arizona

I'd always known that I might be twisted, but it never really sank in. There weren't many twisted back in Darvel, maybe half a dozen in my high school, and only one other in my year. Karen had always been kind of nerdy and then she went and twisted. She was binge watching the old Lord of the Rings Movies at the time, and now she was tall, willowy and had pointed ears.

I stood almost naked in front of the change room at Walmart. My reflection could just as well be a stranger. All of four feet and four inches tall, blue eyes that looked too large and a button nose that looked too small.

I'd always had pasty skin, just like dad, you know the kind that burns in minutes but can't develop a tan. Now I looked Like I'd just stepped off the beach. On the plus side, I was ripped. When I was ten I would have killed to have muscles like this. My arms and legs looked sculpted. Even relaxed I had a six pack and my pecs had some serious definition, which looked kind of weird on a little kid.

On the down side, I'd lost a little something other than hight in my twist. The panties I had on, borrowed from Suzie's wardrobe, didn't bulge in any way. For all the muscle, I was a little girl, and it felt damned weird. I turned sideways and looked at my chest, well at least I wouldn't be needing a bra anytime soon, or possibly ever.

A pile of clothes lay on the bench beside me ready to be tried on. Jeans, shorts and an assortment of tee-shirts. I had put my foot down and said no when Suzie suggested a skirt. And to think only yesterday I'd been a boy, trying to take a cool selfie. This was one hell of a way to learn about risk assessment. Still, I was alive, and that was better than being a smear at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

I'm not sure how long I had laid there at the foot of the cliff before consciousness returned. But the first thing I noticed was the sun, baking my bare skin. The second thing was a rock digging into my lower back. My eyes felt glued shut, and I couldn't move. I groaned.

Voices echoed down to me, the sound of a woman sobbing, people yelling. I forced my eyes open, only to close them again on account of the glare. "Grumpf"

After several more minutes, my muscles started working again, letting me move. I rolled over onto my left side and tried to sit up, pushing myself up on shaking arms. My vision cleared. It looked like a pretty good twist at first, then I noticed the slit between my legs and tried to scream, well I opened my mouth anyway, but no sound came out.

Just the act of sitting up took the wind out of me. I had to rest before I could roll onto all fours and crawl out of the burning sun. I curled up beside a bush. and sat there hugging my legs to my chest, rocking backwards and forwards.

The rangers found me still huddling in the shade half an hour later. Seeing them was a shock in itself. They seemed so much bigger, then they should be, or rather I was smaller.

One of them squatted down, "Hey sweetheart, where did you come from?"

I pointed upwards at the cliff behind me. "Yes, I think I had my twist, and I fell," I said, my girlish voice rising to a hysterical squeak.

The ranger's eyes widened. he looked over at his partner, who was talking on a handheld radio. "Can you tell me your name."

"Lee Jones," I said, "My mum and Suzie, they must be freaking out up there."

A few minutes later I had an emergency blanket wrapped around me like a towel and was trying to walk up the trail. the gravel bit into my bare feet and my legs shook with every step. It seemed I was learning to walk all over again. One of the Rangers helped me stay upright as I shuffled along. "How Bout if I give you a ride?"

"Yes please," I said, rubbing one foot against the other shin to clear out the grit.

He let me climb onto his back, then set off at a rapid pace, soon we arrived at the foot of the trail. Turns out they had an electric cart ready to take us back to the top.

When we got back, I was out of the cart and running almost before it stopped. Mom looked frantic, her face was tear-streaked and red. Aunt Grace was stopping her from running down the trail towards us. She looked straight past me, searching for the teenaged boy she was expecting. "Where's my son." She yelled.

"Mom, I'm here, it's me,"

"Lee?"

I nodded solemnly. "I, I think I twisted."

She enveloped me in a hug so tight I thought she was going to crack my ribs. "What were you thinking?" She said over and over again.

I spent the rest of the day at Flagstaff medical centre. The Police interviewed both me and Mum separately to establish I was really Lee Jones. Then the doctors got to poke and prod and ask a million questions.

Apparently, kids went through their twist while on holiday often enough that they had a protocol for it. When we finally left the hospital I had a certificate saying that I was safe to fly. As to how I survived falling five thousand feet, one of the doctors gave us a long lecture on the Darrington field, but what it boiled down to is that they couldn't explain it either.

A persistent knock on the change room door broke my musings. "Hey Leigh, are you OK in there, let me in," Suzie called.

I pulled on the top tee and shorts from the pile. The tee was plain green, and the shorts were denim and came down to my knees, with small flowers embroidered on either side.

Suzie pushed in beside me as soon as the door was opened, and dumped her own stack of clothes on the bench. She looked at me then at the mirror. "I don't think green's your colour, here try this one. Mom says I can get something too."

Before I could respond she'd pulled her tee shirt off, and was undoing her shorts, letting them fall on the floor. I couldn't help comparing. Suzie had the same pasty skin I used to have, though with marked tan lines around her shoulders. Her stomach was almost as tight as mine, and her chest looked, not like she had boobs, but kind of puffy.

"mom says I'll probably need a training bra in a month or so." she said.

I looked down, feeling the blood rush to my face, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Hey don't worry about it," she said, "I mean your a girl now, right? And your still my favourite cousin."

"Yeah, but, don't you find It weird, I mean I was a boy like yesterday."

"yea and the night before that we were mock wrestling in the tv room, in our PJs, so what? Now that the looks much better."

I had to agree. This one had a very wide neck and only a hint of sleeves. It was cut so it flared out around my waist, with a very light blue at the top, getting darker as it went down. Suzie had put on the exact same tee, only matched with a white skirt. She smiled at me in the mirror, and grabbed my hand, "come on let's go show our moms."

Mom approved, and the outfit went in the to buy pile, as did Suzie's variation. In total, we made half a dozen trips into the change room and back, though Suzie didn't get anything else. Mom finally declared I had enough clothes to get on with. Wisely she hadn't pushed me into anything too girly. The tee shirts were mostly plain, and the bottoms were all shorts or pants. A few flower motifs and fine stones were inevitable, but kept to a minimum.

"OK we'll pay for these, and then see about getting some shoes," My mom said, dragging us through the sports section.

"Can we go to Rio's cafe?" Suzie said, "I'm getting hungry."

That's when I saw them. Hanging beside the swimsuit section, on special frames that kept them stretched out. Leotards, a whole hangar full of them, all bright and glossy and, amazing.

Mom tugged on my arm, but I pushed her away and ran to the side, grabbing the first leotard I came to. "I've got to have this."

"Really dear, it's rather pink isn't it?"

"But it's a leotard, I need it mom," I said, still clutching the leotard to me, and hopping from foot to foot. I tried for the pleading puppy-dog expression, letting my lower lip slip forward. Just like Suzie used on me every time she wanted me to play a girlie game.

Mom regarded me with a thoughtful look. "OK, maybe we should pick up a swimsuit too."

I nodded, not really listening. Moments later found me in another change room, pulling my clothes off to try on the leotard. It was a long sleeved version, in pink patterned with large white flowers. When I finally had it on my breath caught. I looked, well right, this is how I was supposed to be dressed, like a gymnast. Pitty the change room was so small or I'd try a cartwheel.

I skipped out to show Mom, Aunt Grace and Suzie. They seemed somewhat shocked, Suzie couldn't get her mouth closed again when she saw me.

"Well, how do I look?"

"Very cute, are you sure about this Leigh."

"Definitely, can I keep it on?"

Mom shook her head and shooed me back to the change room saying it needed washing, and I could wear it once it was done. I dragged my feet but undressed all the same. Then put on the boring shirt and Dungarees I'd come to the store in. they were also hand me downs from Suzie. I fit in clothes my cousin had outgrown months ago.

I got new sneakers, and a pair of leather sandals, before the promised lunch at the cafe, where I ordered a burger. Miss, I'm too inches taller than you now could only look at it and drool, while eating her chicken salad. Then it was back to the minivan and home, well Suzie's home anyway.

Ten minutes later we arrived to find our bags on the front lawn and Uncle Todd standing in the doorway.

Darvel High, Darvel Washington
"Are you sure you're ready for this Leigh?" Mom said.

She'd pulled up right outside the front gate of Darvel High. It was a warm day, and many of the students where still sitting on the front lawn, waiting for the bell to ring.

I smoothed down my skirt and gave my mom a smile before opeing the door. The Darvel schoolboard had voted in uniforms over a decade ago, and I'd worn them since my first day. For boys, all the schools in the area had the same tan shorts or trousers and a button down shirt. At the High school level, it was white, though I'd worn navy blue in middle school.

But for girls, well, that was another story. The girls uniform was a skirt with optional tights for cooler weather. Right now I was wearing both, and I was very aware of it. The tights pressed against my skin in a way that trousers didn't. I fussed with the back of the skirt as I got out of the car, making sure the hem wasn't folded over or anything. the way it brushed against my thighs as I walked still felt strange.

"OK, don't forget I'm picking you up straight after school. "

"I won't forget, bye mom," I said before closing the door. At least she didn't ask for a goodbye kiss. Mom had been acting weird ever since we got back, almost as if she'd forgotten that I was sixteen and not ten. Looking like a kid was going to suck.

I'd come in early to avoid the bell time rush, but dodging the jocks in the corridor was still a chalange. That and the confused looks, from everyone who noticed me. The new girl who looked like she belonged in elementary school. I passed Dave and the usual suspects in our regular spot outside the library. Adam Wiliams and his twin sister where there too, which was unusual. The star of the school basketball team rarely hung with us second sringers. And as for Rebbeca, she was one of the school's 'it' girls. She noticed me, and pealed away from the group. "Hay there, are you lost?"

"No I'm fine," I said, trying to smile up at her.

"It's just this is the high school, you know that right?"

I nod, at that and weave past her, "I'm older than I look, thanks anyway."

She watches me walk down the hall, then shakes her head. I disappeared round the corner and slip into my Homeroom, Mr Crane's history classroom. The man himself was at his desk, reading through some paper work. He glanced at me over his reading glasses, "So Miss Jones, how would you like to handle things?"

"um, quietly," I said, " just call my name as normal I guess."

He nodded and went back to his reading, while I dragged the chair out and climbed onto it. It was too high, damn it. When I sat comfortably, my feet couldn't reach the ground. Five minutes later I understood why mom had insisted I get slip on shoes. Sitting with my feet dangling for six hours was not going to be fun. I toed my shoes off and crossed my legs instead, taking care to smooth down the skirt.

I was missing Suzie already. Uncle Todd had made his view on the twisted quite clear, with his meandering religious rant. He said something about Lilith and the curse of Ham. Then he started blaming dad and saying none of this would have happened, if Dad hadn't turned his back on Jesus.

Mom had called a taxi as soon as she realised what was happening, and when it arrived he was still going. Suzie had been banished inside by then, and we hadn't been able to say bye properly. Which was a pity. She had accepted the new me so easily, and I only hoped my friends here would do the same.

We ended up finding a room at the hotel where dad's conference was being held. Neither mom nor I felt like more sight seeing, so I spent the next few days hanging around by the pool. Turns out that a racing suit is close enough to a leotard to make me feel comfortable.

When we finally got back to Darvel Mom had to go in and talk to the principal, and then the school board, and the lawyers. All up it took two days before they agreed to let me attend classes. So here I was, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A few other kids showed up before the bell giving me curious looks before finding their seats. Finally, the warning bell rang, and the room started filling rapidly. Dave came in and sat at the table next to me, giving me a curious look, before raising his hand. "Um sir, there's a ..."

"I'm aware," Mr Crane said.

I stifled a giggle, and sat still, watching the blackboard as if it was the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen. I couldn't wait to see the look on Dave's face. I figured I would be the centre of attention anyway, so I might as well get a laugh out of it.

The second bell rang and Mr Crane started running down the roll. As usual, he did it without bothering to look up. Not that it meant he wasn't paying attention mind you, Dave and I had tried answering each other's names once. And that little stunt ended in lunchtime detention.

"Leigh Jones." Mr Crane said.

I looked over at Dave, with a huge smile on my face, "Present."

Dave's mouth dropped open as he looked back at me. Whispered conversations started all over the room. Mr Crane gave them about 30 seconds before clearing his throat. "Miss Jones underwent her twist during the midterm break. I trust you will all remember that Darvel High has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to bullying. And that you will do whatever you can to make her adjustment as easy as possible. I'm sure she will be happy to answer your questions after class."

The room was dead silent, as everybody absorbed this. Mr Crane continued marking off the remaining few people on the list, then moved on to announcements. Everyone was invited to the pep rally on Thursday night. And Friday was the big Basketball game. Darvel High was through to the quarter finals for the first time in years, and I was going to miss it.

The first-period bell rang, and I slipped of the chair to pull my shoes back on. Dave paused beside me, his books clutched in front of him, "Dude, seriously why didn't you text me or something."

"What and spoil the surprise," I said," the look on your face was priceless, I wish I'd had a camera."

We headed out of the room, and towards English class. "I didn't even know one of your parents was twisted, so does your dad like have a cool trick or something?"

"Nope, Its mom and her trick is that she doesn't stand out. Even I had trouble remembering about it half the time." I said, dropping into my regular seat. The Williams twins were in this class and both of them were giving me the stink eye.

"I can't believe he tricked me like that," Rebbeca said to her twin brother. The Williams twins had always stuck together. Back in Elementary school they even dressed up as each other one Halloween. Of course, now that Adam had hit six foot that was no-longer an option.

"Freak," Adam whispered, soft enough that it wouldn't carry. I looked away from him focusing on the blackboard again. Miss Brice was sure to embrace me when she got to class. She did it any time we have a new kid in class, and I suspected I'd count as new.

I was right, she made me stand up, and tell the story of How I'd twisted. I certaintly got some incredulous looks when I got to the bit about falling into the grand canyon. At least until Dave remembered hearing about it on the news.

By Maths class the shock was reduced as pretty well everyone int the room had already heard of my Twist. Solving a problem on the board got embarrassing, Mrs Norris had written it near the top, which was a bit out of my reach. Then it was time for Gym.

I skulked into the girl's locker room. It was a mirror image of the boys one on the other side of the wall. Same benches, with hooks to hand your regular clothes on, no lockers, and a row of showers at the back.

I immediately spotted Karen, on account of her being half a foot taller than any other girl in the class. OK, the snow white hair was noteworthy too, I remember her complaining that she couldn't even dye it. She smiled at me and waved.

Amanda was next to her and was also now looking at me, her nose scrunched up. I'd forgotten I'd have gym class with Amanda. We'd been out a couple of times before the break, but that was before I started looking like this.

"Hey Leigh, is the girls change room everything you expected?" Amanda said.

I dumped my bag at an empty spot near the door. Then made a show of looking around. Just like on the boy's side this was always the last spot taken on account of the air conditioning vent right above it.
"Mirror world," I said.

Conversation resumed. I focused on getting changed until a shadow fell over me. Rebeca, glared down at me, her hands on her hips. "What are you doing in here you pervert."

I finished rolling my tights down, and stood up to face her in my panties, "I'm kind of a girl now, as you can see."

"And I bet you get off on it too," she said, knocking on my head with a knuckle. "what about up here ha?"

"leave off Becca," Karen said, from the other bench, "let her get changed in peace already."

"Seriously, you're defending this fake, how are we supposed to shower with him ogling us?

By then several more girls had finished and were crowding around me. Amanda gave Rebecca a death stare. "Well, she's defiantly not hiding anything in thouse panties, leave her alone."

Outnumbered, Rebecca huffed and stomped out of the room. "I'm going to talk to Mrs Green about this."

Most of the girls have a tee shirt, and wrap around skirt, with gym shorts underneath. But not me, I had something better, a school Leotard. It was regulation, tan, black and yellow and even had the school crest sewn on the front. Hardly any of the girls ever wore it, but it was still in the uniform guide. I slipped it on with a sigh of pleasure. Then sat down to put on sports socks and sneakers. When I looked up again, everyone was silent. "What?"

Amanda shook her head, staring at me. "OK, that settles it, no boy would willingly wear that."

"It's a compulsion, I'm kind of into gymnastic now."

Karen nodded in sympathy. "When I shifted I had to learn Elvish, from the Lord of the RIngs Books." she said, "English feels like a foreign language to me now."

Amanda held out a hand to me, and smiled, "Come on Leigh, let's get out there before Mrs Green comes in here to get us."

When we got out into the gym I could see Rebecca talking to Mrs Green. Her face was streaked with tears and she was twisting her hands, and pointing towards me. Mrs Green looked over, then turned back to Rebecca and decidedly shook her head. "The school is satisfied that Leigh is a girl," she was saying as we approached. "If you don't like it miss Williams, you can wait outside until she is done."

With that, Mrs Green clapped her hands and surveyed the rest of us. "Seeing as we have a new student, we should do another round of fitness tests. So we'll start with a timed one-mile run, line up girls."

There were several groans as we lined up for the fitness test. Normally we only had to do this once per term, but I guess Mrs Green wanted a new baseline for my new body. "Sorry" I whispered to everybody within hearing.

"This isn't over freak," Rebbeca hissed back at me.

I surprised myself. My running time was still respectable, not as fast as it had been, but come on I'd lost a foot and a half in height. Still, I wasn't at all winded at the end of it. And the strength exercises were a breeze. I was fastest at the rope climb and when it came to chin-ups, Mrs Green stopped me at a hundred. I felt like I could have kept going.

As we filed back into the change room I was getting a few more glowers from the other girls in the class, but they seemed reasonably good natured. I stripped off and headed for a shower, trying to ignore the fact that most of the girls were watching me.

"Honestly, she looks like my kid sister," Amanda said, pulling off her own underwear and heading for the next shower over.

I couldn't help looking. After all, I'd been dreaming of getting into Amanda's pants since freshman year. She was slim, hand some nice curves developing, and perky breasts. In my head, I knew I should be aroused, but I felt nothing. Not that I really know what being aroused was supposed to feel like as a girl. But still, i should have felt something. "Hay don't compare me to the brat."

"Hey, only I'm allowed to call her that," Amanda said.

By this point the showers were filling up. Karen had taken the other shower beside mine, "Be Honest Amanda, your little sister is a brat." she said joining our conversation.

I bit my lip and started soaping under my arms, looking at the white tiles in front of me. Finishing up didn't take long. I heard the other girls getting on with things, but kept my head down. Soon enough I was dried off and dressed again.

Rebecca was waiting outside, talking to Adam. Still, in her sports uniform, she gave me a cold glare, before heading in to change. The way Adam was looking at me now, sent a shiver down my spine.

The lunch bell still hadn't sounded but the Gym teachers were pretty relaxed on that score. I headed towards the cafeteria, not noticing that Adam was following me until he shoved me into an empty classroom.

The door banged shut, and he shoved me again."I'm going to give you a lesson you perverted scum," he hissed.

I half fell, half ran across the room, grabbing the end of the empty teachers desk. My heart thudded in my chest, and it felt like I needed to pee.

Adam loomed above me, fists clenched, and eyebrows drawn together over his eyes. "No one perves on my sister."

"I didn't and I wouldn't, and I don't think I even feel that way about girls anymore."

"So you're a poofter as well as a freak. They should sterilise the lot of you." he snarled and lunged forward, his right fist aimed at my face with every ounce of his weight and strength behind it.

I flinched, and closed my eyes, unable to dodge out of the way. And then time seemed to stand still. And something unfurled inside my head. It was like seeing for the first time, only not with my eyes but my skin. I could feel Adams fist an inch before it touched me, feel the force of the blow. And then it dissipated, flowing over and around, and never touching me. By the time his knuckles connected with my cheek, there was no force left, nothing but a feather touch.

My eyes snapped open and I screamed, a high pitched girls scream, that made my own ears hurt. The force of the punch reversed, flowing back from where ever it had gone and back into Adam's hand.

I heard his knuckles crack. His hand moved away from my face leaving a trail of blood behind. It fell on my blouse collar, my shoes and the floor. A heart beat later Adam was staggering away from me cradling his hand. His eyes wide with shock and fear.

Then the door swung open, revealing Coach Smith, still panting from having run up the corridor. Mr Smith was an excellent coach, but for a gym teacher, he wasn't exactly fit. He had a distinctive beer gut under his polo shirt. "What the devil is going on here."

my hands shook, and my knees seemed to collapse under me, I slid down the wall. "He tried. He tried to kill me." I said.

Coach looked at me and Adam and his bleeding knuckles. I'd never seen him so angry before. He grabbed Adam by the bicep and pulled him towards the door, ignoring his moans of pain at having his hand jarred. "Principal's Office, now, and stop whining you, baby, that's what you get from punching a brick wall. Leigh, you too."

It took me two attempts to scramble to my feet I was still shaking so much. That must be my trick, I could redirect kinetic energy. Finally, I knew how I'd survived falling down a cliff. "yes sir," I said.

As we walked I tried focusing on my hand, but the field I felt earlier wouldn't come back, no matter how hard I tried to concentrate. Before I knew it we were in the front office. Coach Smith pointed towards the hard wooden bench in the hall. "Wait here, Leigh."

He knocked on the door but didn't wait for an answer before pushing Adam inside. The school nurse showed up a few minutes later, and then the paramedics. Adam was playing up the moaning as they took him away. You'd think he'd busted every bone in his body rather than a knuckle or two.

I waited, still trying to feel the air around me, like I had for that one second, but without success. By the time mom arrived I had a headache, and my stomach burned. I'd missed lunch. Mom took one look at me and pulled me into an embarrassing hug. Luckily there was no one there to see it other than Principal Davis. "Mrs Jones, Leigh, please come in."

The principal's office showed signs of being well used but organised. The only loose paper being in designated in and out trays on one corner of her desk. She sat behind the desk and waited for us to get as comfortable as the hard wooden chairs on our side would allow. "Leigh please tell me what happened after Gym class."

"Adam pulled me into a classroom, and he said, I was filth. He accused me of perving on his sister, I didn't honest, she wasn't even in the change room. And then he tried to punch me in the face."

Mrs Davis frowned, leaning forward on her elbows, "Did you use a trick on Adam Williams."

"Well, Um, Not really, I mean I didn't know I had a trick, and it's not like an attack or anything," I said, looking at mom, instead of the principal. This wasn't working. I took a deep breath, and met the principal's gaze, "I think my trick lets me reflect kinetic energy. So when he punched me, all the force he put into it got reflected back at him.

"I see, and can you use this force to hit people?"

"I don't know, I don't think so. When it happened I could sort of feel the air around me, but I can't make it come back, I've been trying while I was waiting."

Mrs Davis walked over to the book case. she pulled down a thick leather bound volume but didn't open it. "In the last hour, I have spoken with Adams and the head of the school board."

"It is perfectly clear that what we have here is a case of bullying, and that Leigh is unquestionably the victim. However, the active use of a trick complicates matters. Until Leigh's abilities have been fully tested and certified I can not allow her to return to school."

"Are you telling me that my daughter is being suspended for being assaulted by another student?" mom said.

Mrs Davis sighed. She put down the book, unopened, and picked up several sheets of paper from her out tray. "Unfortunately yes. Now let me be clear I know that Leigh did not start this, and I believe that she is not a danger to anyone. But my opinion is not enough to sway the School board. Here is the necessary paperwork. I've also included contact details for a clinic in Seattle, If they sign off on Leighs Trick, she can return to school."

Mom took the papers and motioned me to stand. "Thank you for your time, Principal Davis. Leigh lets go home."

Dave and Amanda were waiting at the cross corridor, both looking worried, as we passed. I gave them a little wave but didn't say anything.

"hay Leigh, I'll bring your homework round after school," Dave called.

Mom stopped and put a smile on her face before looking at my friend. "That's very kind of you David, but Leigh will be out this afternoon, maybe tomorrow."

The car was parked directly in front of the school again, I got into the passenger seat. Then heard moms door slam closed. "I'm sorry mom, I didn't know."

She pulled me into another hug. I didn't fight it this time. "Oh Leigh honey, it's not your fault, none of this is your fault."

I felt the sobs building up inside me, and I just couldn't keep them in any longer. The tears came first, hot on my face, and then I was shaking, as mom held me tight. I don't think I'd ever cried this much, not even the time I'd broken my arm. I hadn't done anything to Adam, or Rebecca. I'd never asked to be twisted or to be a girl. And it was so hard.

Having a Full ride scholarship to MIT meant that I was set for the next four years.
All I had to do was keep my grades up, and I’d have a roof over my head and food in my stomach.
At least, I would once I got to Boston.

But the getting there was the problem.
I ended having to Hitchhike into Fort Wayne to meet the Greyhound going east.
And there I was settling into my seat with a whole fifty bucks in my pocket after bus fare.

The bus was near empty as it wend its way into the Appalachian mountains.
I had the two seats on the left of the isle to myself.
The only other passengers a couple who had gotten on with guitar cases a few stops ago.
They’d been huddled together and trading quick kisses for at least the last hour and showed no signs of slowing.

Public displays of affection bothered me.
Not because of some moral principle, mind you.
No, they bothered me because I was jealous.
Traveling alone sucked.
Not that there was anyone special waiting for me back home.
Small towns sucked for keeping secrets, so I’d let no one in on mine

Boston would be different.
Once I had a degree under my belt and a good job, I could be myself.
I closed my eyes for just a moment.
The next thing I knew I was standing on an endless plan of polished stone, beneath an endless sky of midnight blue filled with stars beyond counting.
Before me stood a throne and on it sat a girl in a gossamer gown which contrived to cover everything that propriety demanded.

"welcome mortal," the girl said.
Her voice that reverberated in my head until my vision blurred.

I looked down. I was still in the jeans and tee shirt I'd winnowing I got on the bus.
Everything looked clean and pressed. Too clean.
"I take it, the bus crashed."

The goddess smiled at me. And crossed her right leg over her left knee, leaving her sandal dangling from her toes.
She extended one hand with a flourish and pulled a manila folder out of thin air.
"Lets see your permanent record shall we."

I waited, shifting from leg to leg out of habit more than discomfort.

"Um, you are a goddess right?"

"Your question does not bode well for you," she said, " according to this record you have not once visited a temple, not even on the holiest of days.
I may be a minor deity, when compared to my Grandmother, but still a little recognition would be nice.
Indeed, it says here you never even prayed."

"I mean I used to, when I was little," I objected.

She closed the folder with an audible slap.
Her face grew stern, the eyebrows drawing down until
they were straight lines above her glowing eyes.
"Newsflash junior, you where praying to the wrong gods."
"How, how was I supposed to know that?"

She sighed and lent forward, resting her forehead on her open palm.
"You are only human, honestly so few of you get it no matter how frequently get everything republished."

"So, um, the Jews where right?"

"Heaven's no. None of the big five religions are right!"
She said, making quote with her fingers in in the air.
"You'd think the divine word would carry more weight with you humans, but no you just keep inventing your own."

"But you said you had books?"

"Yes, we do.
Ever heard of the Voynich Manuscript, or the Codex Seraphinus?
If you'd bothered to read either of them you'd find things we explain things in detail.
I can tell by your vacant stare that you haven’t read either.
Anyway enough theology, we are here to discuss your fate.
You have not qualified for the forest of eternal joy."

"Obviously."
I said, not daring to point out that neither of the documents she mentioned had ever been deciphered. Hell, I was sure that second one was a work of visual art.

The goddess ignored my interjection.
"Now I could just send you to hell, but then again you wheren't exactly evil.
Sure there were some odd fantasies, but all humans have those.
Considering what goes on in those heads of yours,
I don‘t know why you keep inventing such prudish gods."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry at the mention of hell.
"So, what do you propose?"
She switched her legs and lent forward, smiling at me, her left cheek dimpling.
"How would you like a second chance, I'll send you to a world that is threatened by darkness."

"So I'm supposed to what, defeat the darkness, save a world, or go to hell."

The goddess's laughter was like ringing bells.
"Silly mortal, I don't expect that much of you.
Fighting the darkness will suffice.
Give it your all, and when you lose you will earn your reward"

She waved her hand to produce another object out of thin air,
This time a familiar hardbound book, decorated with the image of a warrior fighting a dragon. Flicking it open, she began to page through it, "Hmm, but what powers to give you."

"Rogue, Make me a rogue."
I said without a moment's hesitation.

"That's not very heroic," she said.

I scratched my head. "I've never been one for straight out fights.
Why go in guns blazing when you can get the job done nice and quietly.
After all evil overlords end up just as dead either way don't they?"

"Fair enough, a rogue it is." she said, flicking through the book again.

The next part would be tricky, after all I was speaking to a goddess.
Was she all knowing?
Did she already know my wish?
“Do I have to be reborn as myself?"

She looked up, her hand resting on the open page.
"No my hero, we can make adjustments, after all the world I am sending you to isn't exclusively human.
Elves, Dwarves and Halflings are all possible options.
I'd recomend Dwarf, quite a hardy race Dwarves, and their culture."

I stood straighter, arms by my sides and hands clenched in fists, “Dwarves aren't really my thing.
Could you?
Could you make me a girl?"

She laughed again, slapping the book shut, then caressed the cover with her fingertips.
"Oh, my, that is an interesting request.
Still, I guess it's in keeping with those fantasies we mentioned earlier."

I stepped towards her, already thinking I'd been a little too rash.
If she changes so much would I still be me, "will I remember?"

"Oh yes. If we wiped your memory, how are you supposed to learn?" Her right hand still resting on the Handbook, she pointed her left index finger at me. "Know me as Katia, my daughter.
I'll give you the potential to be the trickiest and sneakiest rogue Gardoth has ever seen.
See that you bring glory to my name, and visit the temples now and then."

The goddess's eyes grew brighter and brighter, shifting from those of a human girl to those of a cat.
Then everything faded to white.
Just before I lost consciousness again, I thought I heard Katia giggling. "My dear brother will be livid."

I awoke in a small dark space.
My knees pressed against my chest and my arms wrapped about my shins.
My sense of balance told me I was the right way up.

Touch alone was enough to tell me I was naked,
My skin felt soft and hairless.
In contrast, the hair on my head cascaded in heavy locks of over my shoulders and upper back.
The way my thighs pressed together and the way my muscles responded when I squeezed, told me something else.
Just as I was certain that I had ten fingers and ten toes, I was also certain that I was female now.

Even in a fetal position I filled the space of my prison from bottom to top, with scant inches of free space in any direction.
The walls appeared to be of polished stone, but without the coolness that I would have expected.

When I twisted in place, I spotted light.
A circle of stone behind me that seemed to glow like sunlight seen through closed eyelids.
I planted my hands on the floor of my prison and pushed down until my bottom lifted off the stone.
Moving by a few degrees at a time, I turned until I faced the light.

I tapped the stone with my knuckles.
It made an echoing hollow sound.
I hit it harder, clenching my hands into fists and swinging as far as I could, ponding on the stone like a drum.
After a few hits the flesh of my hands stung, but the stone didn't budge.

In desperation I twisted about again until I lay on my back with my feet pressed against the thin patch of stone.
This left my neck cricked and my chin pressed tight against my breast bone.

With a grunt of effort I pushed.
Pushed until my thighs were burning with the effort.
Pushed until I thought my neck would snap from the pressure.
When I thought I could push no more, the stone gave way all at once.

The thin layer of stone shattered like glass.
The blinding light of an alien sun flooded my prison, while I lay there panting with eyes shut tight against the glare.
Hot dry air wicked the sweat from my limbs.

The new light confirmed what my sense of touch had already told me.
My skin was pale and free of hair or blemishes.
I was a girl, and a prepubescent one at that.
I'd kind of assumed that I'd stay the same age when the goddess did whatever she did.
But that wasn't the case.

"Climbing this will suck." I said, just to hear my voice.
The sounds that came out were strange, and had a singsong quality that reminded me of something from northern Europe, Dutch or Finnish perhaps.
Somehow I could not only speak this language but understand it and think even think in it.

The tunnel I had breached extended six feet up and was so smooth that it gleamed.
While not vertical it was steep, with a gradient of at least sixty degrees.
Beyond that I saw nothing but clear blue sky.

Enough lying around Tony, I thought, or this is going to end up being your grave.
I’d probably need a new name, come to think of it, and I wasn’t going to take the copout option of calling myself Toni either.

Taking care to work around the shards of rock I twisted about again until I got my head and shoulders into the tunnel.
If anything, the tunnel was even narrower than the chamber I started in.

With no hand holds to speak off I had to rely on pressure and friction to hold my weight.
First I wedged my arms against the walls and lifted until my knees could go no higher.
Then I wedged my legs similarly and reached up, stretching my torso.

Each such motion saw my end up a few inches further up the stone pipe.
Inch by inch I slivered towards the light.
A quarter hour later my head emerged into a new world.

The stone outcropping I emerged from stuck out of the hillside above a broad valley carpeted with flowers.
The distant ridgeline gave the illusion of a lush meadow.
But the ground beside me told a different story.
The clumps of flowers were somewhat sparse and the ground about them, not grass or loam but sand.

Here and there fingers of stone jutted from the dunes.
Mountains of bare red stone crumpled like a geologist model rose to the North East.
At least I though it was North East, assuming it was before noon and that the sun rose in the east here.

The flowers closest to me were hot pink with dark green foliage, and the next bunch over where ice blue.
It was beautiful, but also deadly.

I'd seen pictures similar to this, of places where for a few weeks per year the desert bloomed.

I pulled myself out of the hole and stretched, arching my back until my hands touched the rock behind me and kicked up into a handstand.

This was new, I'd never done a handstand before, yet now it seemed effortless.
Without a second thought I tucked my knees down and rotated into a piked position parallel to the ground.
Then I swung my legs back under again until my toes brushed the ground and stood on points.

I'd guess my new age at no more than twelve.
Long limbed, strong, and flexible, the body of a dancer or perhaps a gymnast.
No the body of a rogue who could scale walls and sneak through the tinest of openings.

But my skin would be a problem.
Skin this fair didn’t tan, no it burned.
Even in my old life sunscreen had been a necessity, but now, I needed it more than ever, and no convince stores in sight.

Northern Indiana didn't get this hot, but even I knew that going naked in the desert was dangerous.
I needed shelter, and water or this would be a rather short second life.

"Well, my goddess," I said, squinting up at the sky.
"What am I supposed to do now?"

Change, the world echoed in my thoughts of its own accord.
I closed my eyes and focused on it.
What am I supposed to change and how?
Something twisted in my mind and then my eyes opened.

My fingers and toes itched something fierce.
Pins and needles sparked inwards.
The sensation moved up my limbs, triggering nerve endings one after another in a slow burn.

I clenched my jaw, not waiting to advertise my presence by screaming.
Behind the wave of feeling my new body changed, fingers shrinking, toes swelling, and claws extending for every digit.
Fur sprouted from my skin, covering pale pink with patterns of yellows and browns.

I blinked and the entire world changed.
The bright blue sky now seemed washed out.
The vegetation a darker green than it had been a moment ago.
Even the flowers lost their vibrance, fading to near gray coloured with only hints of yellow.
Of red and violet there wasn't even a trace.

Against this drab background something moved.
A scant five yards from where I stood.
My ears flicked from side to side.
I heard the foliage rustle as something crept through it.

Dropping onto all fours I moved forward, half walking, half crawling on the burning sand.
I slipped between the clumps of flowers without disturbing a single petal.

The scent trail told a clear story of how my prey had foraged all over the valley.
Its mouthwatering musk led me even more than the visible signs of passage.

My tail flicked from side to side and then I pounced.
In less than a heartbeat my claws met skin and flesh.
My prey struggled and screeched until my ears hurt, but I held on squeezing the life out of it.
Its ribs cracked, and the screech cut off.
It was some kind rodent, a fair bit larger than a mouse.

I leant close to see it better with no discernible effect.
If anything up close, it looked even less distinct, but the smell.

A quick twist cracked the neck and a single bite separated the head from the body, allowing me to suck the hot blood straight into my mouth.
I ate it raw, stripping skin of flesh with my claws and tearing the meat off the bones with my teeth.

I froze, breath drawn in.
I'd killed it.
I'd killed a rat and ate it raw! Oh god, I thought as I liked the blood from my fingers.
My stomach twisted and bile rose in my throat.
"Goddess what have you done to me?"

If Katia watched, she gave no answer.
Somehow I kept my meal down.
Just when I was getting comfortable in my new skin, the goddess had to pull this trick on me.
Two new bodies in an hour was a bit much.

My new, new eyes seemed farsighted, which made a personal examination kind of difficult.
Despite the killer instinct, I hadn't shifted into an entirely animal form.

I could stand on two legs, though in something a pigion-toed fashion.
Despite the change walking was easily enough and my balance was still perfect.

I stood on one paw and pivoted down to pluck a flower from its stem, only for it to slip through my short fat fingers.
With a sigh of annoyance I grabbed at it again and came away with a flower which I brought to my nose.
Pretty enough but no perfume to speak of.

My ears twitched, tracking a gust of wind as it brushed the foliage and my tail flicked from side to side.
I retracted my claws and used my fingertips to explore my face.

It felt furry, but other than that mostly human.
Well, except for the whiskers, the cleft upper lip and the triangular ears sitting high on my head.
"Myaa!
I'm a freaking catgirl.
That blasted goddess made me into a cat girl!
That was not what I had in mind."

I stomped away from the remains of my meal and shook a fist at the heavens.
"Fuck you, Katia!"

At my words the ground shook.
Before I could move another muscle the very air cracked and my vision faded to white again.
I blinked furiously to clear the green after images from my sight.

Lightening from a clear blue sky., Lightening that had struck only a foot from where I stood with enough force to turn the sand to glass.
Note to self, do not take the goddesses name in vain.
"Sorry my Lady, you surprised me is all." I whispered.

At the edge of the valley I surveyed the wasteland that Katia had dropped me into.
This was indeed a desert, as far as I could see.
Waves of sand interspersed with outcroppings of red rock and patches of wildflowers.

Only the mountains to the North East broke up the monotony.
At least my new form seemed adapted to this land.
Somehow the sand didn't feel as hot against the pads of my paws as it had against my human feet.
The fur also gave at least some protection from the glaring sun.

That’s when I saw the smoke.
At least I through it was smoke, long plums of it rising from some point far to the west.
A forest fire, I reasoned would be more spread out, not rising in dozens of thin tendrils from one small area.

Fire meant people.
perhaps a city or a camp at least and having a landmark to aim at was important.
Otherwise I could well end up walking in circles.

So step one, sneak into an alien city.
Step two, steal some cloths.
I’d have to work out a step three when I got there, but after that step four was always profit.
Oh, yes and somewhere along the way fight evil.
With that I stepped over the ridge line and began my journey.
This would be a long walk.

I walked until the sun was high over my right shoulder. Then walked some more as it sank towards the horizon. Afternoon brought new problems as the glare of the sun made it hard to see the distant smoke.

When it got too much for me, I hid behind another stone outcrop. It wasn't noticeably cooler in the shade, but the dimmer light was welcome, regardless. After hours of motion it felt good to be still and to stretch my tired legs. I started with a standard runner’s routine, then moved on to the extra muscles I didn't even have a name for. The ones between my heels and the thick paws that had replaced the balls of my feet.

Once the worst of the pain faded, and numbness had set in, I lay back on the stone and stretched my arms up to the sky. I'd been experimenting with my claws all day and now extending and retracting them was effortless.

Change, I thought. This time the pins and needles began at my center and burned their way outwards. I rode the burn, eyes squeezed shut and jaws clenched.

As the pain faded, I felt half deaf. I could still feel the wind, but the rustle of the bushes grew muffled. It felt like someone had covered my ears in cotton wool. Stones pressed into my bare skin, one digging into my bottom, and another caught between the rock I was lying on and my left shoulder blade. As I sat up, sand which had been trapped in my fur fell away in all directions.

I cleared a patch of stone of rubble and shifted over to it sitting now with my legs pressed up against my chest to minimise my contact with the still hot stone.

So shifting back to human meant muffled hearing and no protection from the environment. But the colours made it so worth it. The sapphire of the Eastern sky shifting though blues and purples towards the west where the bright red sun kissed the horizon.

Cat hearing was amazing, and the sense of smell was something else. But so far, cat vision was a real letdown. Looking at the blooming desert again with human eyes was a veritable feast. Flowers in every colour of the rainbow as far as I I could see. After a day looking at pale yellows and blues, it was amazing.

Even without bending down I could smell the sweet nectar of a thousand blooms. My sense of smell in car form was tuned differently. It made sense seeing as cats where not attracted to sweetness, so the perfume of flowers meant little to them.

My toes sank into the burning sand as I stepped away from the rock outcropping. This valley was different from the one I'd emerged in. it was more arid for one with longer expanses of stone and less sand. The valley floor here was free of vegetation. Instead the ground was hard backed and cracked, the tell tale signs of a dried watercourse.

I tracked it with my eyes until the creek bed disappeared between two sand dunes. This was worth investigating even if it took me off course a little. With that I stood, brushed the rest of the sand off my skin and resumed walking.

The hard backed sand crumbled under my bare feet as I walked along it. It felt odd to place my heels down instead of balancing on my toes. Still, if I followed this path it would lead somewhere, maybe even a water. And it was still meandering westwards so it wouldn't pull me that much of course.

In my old Life I'd never been this alone. In my old life I‘d never been more than an hour or two from civilization. Here I didn‘t even know what passed for civilization. I kind of assumed when I got there I‘d find a medieval village, but then I had assumed that I‘d be an adult when I spawned here. Hopefully, they had something passing for cities in this world, or most of my new skills would be of limited use. It was the silence that was getting to me. A whole day gone and no one to even say hi to.

My stomach twisted, reminding me I had not eaten or drunk anything since breakfast. Now that I thought about it I was thirsty too. I hadn't felt the need in my cat form but now as a mere human I was parched, my skin was moist with sweat and I needed to pee. So much water wasted just because I’d shifted back into a human.

I stopped short, then shrugged my shoulders. It wasn't like I'd find a toilet out here. With that I squatted down and relaxed my abdominal muscles.

The sensation was the same as I remembered and yet different. Once the stream stopped i wiggled about to get the last drops off my skin. The dry baked ground sucked the moisture up so quickly that by the time I stood there wasn’t a trace of it left.

The valley walls grew steeper with every step, showing more and uneroded stone. Here and there small bushes stuck out of the dried sandy soil, their thin silver-green leaves curled up against the heat. I started to sing as I walked, "The snow glows white on the mountain tonight."

My voice grew louder with every line as I worked my way into the ballad. Some snow sure would be nice, I thought. This song had been my personal anthem ever since the movie came out. But then I wasn't alone in this. It had become an anthem for everyone who was hiding their true self from the world. "It’s time to see what I can do "

Something landed behind me with a thump. I spun around only to be confronted by a cross between a lizard and a chicken. Only it was huge. its legs longer than I was tall and its body at least as large as a compact car.

It stalked towards me with its maw held low to the ground. Its feathers puffed up and flashing in impossible patterns. Magic, it had to be magic. A giant magic chicken was trying to eat me!

Still trying to clear my vision, I sidestepped. Just looking at it for a moment made my head hurt and my stomach twist. just then my foot landed on a rock and I stumbled, twisting as I fell. Change, I thought with all my will.

This time the transformation was near instant, and about as pleased as being dunked in boiling water. The bones in my hands and feet creaked and popped as they shifted and my skin burned. Behind me the monster rustled and hissed as it lept forward.

The yellowed talons brushing through the fur on my arm as I rolled to the left and regained my feet. My cats nose detected a stench of rotting meat, but at least I could look at the thing without being nauseated.

Still backing up I I half crouched, hissed in return. My own fur bristled in a futile attempt to make me look larger too. As I moved, I chanced on a stone a little larger than my hand. Remembering my poor grip, I took a moment to press position my hand fingers before yanking it upwards. then twisted spinning all the way around before hurling the rock at the monster’s head.

All the while I kept spinning until I was facing away from the monster, then I lept forward, using my claws for traction. There was no need to look back. I knew the monsters bird was chasing me as I zigzagged down the canyon.

The good news was that it wasn‘t a stealthy hunter. If anything, it relied on shock and awe to paralyze its prey. Its huge talongs hitting the ground with audible thuds, its feathers rustling as it chased me. Best yet every time it was about to lung forward it hissed giving me a second to change directichasedon. The bad news was that already my paws hurt something feirce and my diagram felt like it was about to burst.

The valley swung to the left and dropped rapidly, the walls turning to cliff faces on either side. I leapt down the slope in something of a half controlled fall. For an instant I saw a shadow moving on the valley floor, then I was pass the corner. I dared a glance back to see a giant of man leaping towards the monster bird. Olive skinned and muscled like a body builder, he flew through the air with a long club held in both hands. At the last moment he twisted sending, and the club cracked against the birds head with an audible smack.

Even before he had landed I'd changed direction, sprinting back towards the bird, and under racking my clawed hands down its belly.

At first all I could feel was feathers brushing through my fingers. They were dense enough to serve as armour. I pressed harder, willing my claws to dig through the fibers. Finally, I felt skin then hot blood weeping soaking into the fur on my fingers as I dug deeper into its neck.

The birds screeched in shock and pain and then my rescuer hit it again, hard enough to make it stagger. He was not quite human, but then again neither was I. The skin colour was wrong for one. Though that could just have being my cats eyes. To me he looked a dark grey with a greenish tinge. For another, he had fangs protruding from his mouth.

Focus Tony, I thought, fight now, ask questions later. With that I leaped again, grabbing onto the bird’s tail and pulled myself up onto its back. Here the feathers worked to my favour as they were surprisingly easy to get a grip on with my claws. Soon enough I manged to pull myself up towards its neck, which I grabbed tight and squeezed.

The bird reared, trying to buck me off its back, This gave my rescuer an opening to dart in and club its vulnerable ankle joint. The bone snapped sending the bird lurching sideways beneath me. With a whole of anger I dug my claws in, tearing a long bloody gash in its neck. Blood squired in bursts, covering my rescuer from head to toe.

Holding on with one hand I dragged my claws down the birds neck again even as it fell to the ground. It spasamed a few more times then grew still, the blood now dribbling lazily from its open corroded artery.

"Damn it, I'm soaked." he said as he brushed the blood out of his eyes. I imagined it was red, but to my cats eyes it looked very much like black ink. The man himself had to be close to seven feet tall, his skin looked gray green and his mouth stretched wide to accommodate protruding tusks. Other than that he looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime. Considering that his only clothing was a loincloth, that was a lot of muscle on display.

I pulled myself off the now dead bird and wiped my paws on the feathers. then shifted away, turning my body to hide the important bits. Suddenly, fur didn't seem like adequate cover.

"That’s a lot of blood. Linda, is that you?"

"Um, no I'm, To, Tabitha. You can call me Tabitha."

"Damn, I've been waiting for days and when I heard that song. My Linda is always singing or humming it. Come on, I've got a camp nearby, there's water too. The name's Dan by the way."

"Thanks, but what's the catch?" I said, not moving from where I was crouching. "I mean I'm grateful that you came and distracted this thing, but."

"But I'm a strange guy with big teeth and you're a little girl, I get it. Look, I swear, I won't try anything. I'm guessing where in much the same situation here, you know died, met a god and got reincarnated, right?"

I nodded my assent then followed as soon as he turned his back. The view from the back was nice too, like I said Arny in his prime, so what if his skin colour was unusual, who was I to complain? "Shouldn't we, carve up this chicken?"

"Nah, it's too magical. If we had the right tools, we could probably harvest some valuable ingredients but, without preservation it will fall apart in no time."

"What about the meat?" I said still looking back at that carcass.

"Eating magical creatures is not a good idea, The raw mana can have all sorts of side effects. Don't worry I've got some stores back at the cave."

The valley had become more of a canyon by this point, and the ground was still descending as we walked. Here and there sand had collected in drifts against the walls but the center remained clear.

"So Linda's your girlfriend?

"Wife. Linda's my wife. We'd both be on Broadway now if that Bus hadn't crashed." He said.

Something about his voice seemed odd. It wasn't the tone, which was pleasantly deep with the occasional rumble. No it was the word Bus, it had come out in English rather than whatever language we were speaking. "I think we were on the same bus, how d’you know I was Like you, anyway?"

He stopped walking and gave me a big grin over his shoulder. "Disney doesn't have an inter dimensional division."

I stepped up beside him and sighed in wonder. The shadowed valley before me had to be several miles across, and it was positively filled with vegetation. As the last of the suns rays faded, everything seemed to glow. Bio-luminescence was defiantly a thing here. I suspected that this nighttime display was just as rich as the flowers. Even in shades of blue and Yellow it looked impressive. I was tempted to shift back and look again, but then I’d really be naked. Being Naked "Wow."

"Tell me about it, really hammers home that we ain't in Kansas anymore doesn't it. We couldn't have been on the same bus. I don't remember no kids, just us the driver and one other dude."

"Yea, I was heading for MIT. So you said there's water?"

Dan lead the way pointing out a cave as his camp on the way. Before long we arrived a largish pool, shaded by fern fords and surrounded by a thick carpet of moss which squished under my paws. Dan tossed his club down on the bank then walked straight into the water until he was waist deep, then dropped straight down.

Moving with a little more care I scanned the area, surprised that I could still see in the dim light. But then wasn't that another well known feline ability. I crouched at the edge of the water and dipped a hand in, letting water soak into my fur.

Dan surfaced not far from where he had ducked under the water. "Well, damn, Hod really did a number on you didn't he."

"I met a goddess named Katia, and I kind of asked for this, well not the cat part but the girl part."

"Seriously?"

Looking away form Dan I slipped into the water and also dove under, and surfaced with hair covering my face. I brushed it out of my faced and looked up at Dan. Just breath Tabitha, I thought, time to open up to someone. If he freaked out I could always find somewhere else to spend the night. But then he said he was in musical theater and theater people did have a reputation for acceptance. As long as he wasn’t some Kirk Cameron wannabee, but then would someone like that have even agreed to come here? Worse case scenario, I’d keep heading for where I saw the smoke trails in the morning. "I’m transgender. Or I was, back on Earth?"

"Now you have the right body. That‘s cool, guess it worked out then," he said with a shrug. "I hope Linda shows up soon, this valley is getting kind of old."

I waded deeper in and stated washing in earnest, brushing fingers through my fur to work out the sand. I had pick up a fair bit of it tussling with the killer bird. "How long have you been here?"

Dan said he'd hatched form a giant egg, a good eight days ago right here in the valley. He'd been exploring the area ever since, waiting for his Linda to show up. I told him my much shorter tail in exchange.

Once I felt clean enough, I dragged my waterlogged self out of the water and started squeezing myself dry, or at least dryer. Dan then led the way back up towards a cave he'd taken residence in. It looked rather comfortable considering that he’d only had a week to set things up from scratch.

There was a stone lined fire pit, a stack of dried wood to burn, and a cache of smoked meat. Stone tools were arranged neatly beside a stack of hides, some scraped and others with the fur still on. He even had a bed of rushes to sleep on. Dan said his class was Ranger, and it came with a bunch of useful survival skills, not to mention leather crafting.

We sat by the fire chatting for some time while I dried my fur. Somehow being naked around him got less awkward as the night progressed. He was so head over heels in love with his wife that he wouldn't even look at another woman. And even if he wasn't, Dan didn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd try anything with a kid.

My yawns grew wide while he worked by the fire, sewing several soft hides together with a strips of hide cord. Sewing without a needle was quite the operation. First, he would cut slits in the leather, with a bit of sharpened bone then feed the cord through.

"Past you’d bed time I think," Dan said.

"You known I'm not actually a kid right?"

"Sure, but does your new body know that.
Looks to me like your ready to drop. You can take the bed, and I'll finish this off."

The bed of rushes sure looked inviting. I scooted over to it and tested it with one hand. It was much softer than I expected. With a glance at Dan I slipped in and lay down with my back to the fire. "What you making anyway?"

"An outfit for you, " he said, giving me a toothy grin, "you seemed a little uncomfortable earlier."

At first I tried lying down to sleep, but it just didn't feel right. I tossed and turned and then curled up into a ball just like a kitten and I fell asleep nestled deep in the rushes. I felt safe, and I couldn't help smiling. "purrrr"

It was a strange feeling for me. My real old man had been an ass. He never got violent but he was still a mean drunk and liked to yell. Now here I had a real life Conan worrying that I got enough sleep and making cloths for me.

"Tabby, are your purring?"

"No."

"OK, goodnight."

I dug deeper into the rushes hugging my knees up against my chest. "Night."

What an amazing dream, I thought as consciousness returned to me. In that moment I was certain that I had arrived in Boston and somehow made it to my assigned dorm without remembering it. Running on too much coffee and not enough food could do that.

As soon as I had the cash, I'd have to get better sheets, the dorm supplied ones It felt like crap, so threadbare and rough, it was like sleeping in a pile of straw. At least it was warm. I rolled over and stretched out into a star shape.

My hands and feet brushed against gritty stone. I inhaled. The air felt rather dry, and carried a hint of old smoke, and beneath that another sent. A pleasant musk, which permeated my bed, and yet wasn't me, it was Dan.

Eyes opened, I sat up and looked around. I was in the cave from my dream. Though the fire pit had been racked. My eyes still refused to focus on nearby objects. Not that I needed eyes to sense that I still had fur, claws and a tail. With a thought I extended my claws and flexed them several times. "It wasn't a dream. I'm still Tabitha."

The far side of the valley was bathed in bright sunlight, though the colours still looked dull to my eyes. Closer to home Dan had left cloths out for me as promised. The top garment was a simple suede halter top which laced together with a leather cord down the front.

Beneath that I found a skirt made from multiple overlapping panels. There was even a hidden slit that accommodated my tail. Like the halter it was made from suede and finished with cord laces. The ensemble was plain but well made. Even without needle or thread, or even scissors, Dan had done a wonderful job. The corded seams looked like neat flat braids, the edges were perfectly straight, and everything fit just right. Best yet, the halter even made it look like I had a slight bust.

It was a super cute cave girl outfit, pity I had no mirror to admire myself with. "Some beads would make it even cuter," I said, just to hear my voice, "I must keep an eye out for pretty stones."

Tip-toeing to the entrance of the cave, I closed my eyes and breathed in. Dan's scent was everywhere, but I could still pick out the freshest trail. I headed down hill into the foliage, taking care to avoid sticks, loose rocks and anything else that might reveal my location. It took a lot of focus, but potential obstacles leaped out at me now that I was thinking about it. But then stealth was probably a class skill for me, just like Leather work was for Dan.

While lush compared to the surrounding desert, the valley floor was far from a jungle. Large patches of grass and flowers were occasionally interrupted by trees. Some of them looked ordinary. Straight trunks maybe ten feet tall with a loose canopy overhead. The others were more exotic. Perhaps the most common species looked like a fractal. The main trunk about three feet tall, then it split into seven evenly spaced branches. Only the upward pointing tips of the smallest branches had leaves. Growing in dense bunches they blended together to give the tree an umbrella like appearance.

Tracking Dan took the best part of an hour. I found him crouching at the edge of a mossy glade, with a simple wooden spear in his hand. The ground dipped down here, trapping enough moisture for ferns to grow. Even the Umbrella trees were particularly dense, giving both him and me plenty of cover from the goats. There was five of them, including two kids.

I circled downwind, taking even more care to move silently than scaled one of the trees, squeezing up into the spaces between the branches and leaves above. From my new shadowed perch I could see all five goats and the spot where Dan was stalking them.

With a smile on my face, I waited for him to make his move. Fortunately I didn't have to wait long. I'd just gotten into a good ambush position when he leapt up out of the ferns and cast his spear. It stuck one of the billy goats in the shoulder, causing the animal to buck and bleat in pain. The rest of the tribe jumped at the sound and took off running.

All four of them passed under my hiding place. I let the kids and their mother past then dropped onto the other female, still without making a sound. My clawed hands curled about its neck. it staggered under my weight, then my claws dug into its throat and it was all over.

Meanwhile Dan's spear thrust had missed everything vital, leaving his Billy goat injured but still alive. It bleated in pain from the spear still stuck out of its shoulder. Despite this, it faked left. When Dan followed, it jerked right and sprinted for the trees.

"Mya!" I yelled, jumping out into its path.

Eyes rolling, it dropped its head and charged.

I vaulted at the last moment, doing a half twist in the air and grabbing the spear with both hands. My paws touched the ground a moment later, and I lunged, pushing the weapon deeper into its shoulder.

Dan reached into the melee with his large hands and snapped its neck. "Where the devil did you come from?"

I skipped around Dan, then grabbed jumped up and pulled him into a hug. "I Just wanted to thank you for the outfit, then I saw you hunting and though I'd help."

He Pushed me off and ran a hand through his hair. "Don't you? I could have killed you."

"As if, you didn't even see me, besides this way we have twice as much meat." I said pointing to the other Goat.

Dan made me carry it all the way back to camp. Worse yet, he spent the whole trip lecturing me about proper hunting procedure and ways to signal your presence without spooking potential prey.

We dumped both animals near a refuse pit that Dan had clearly used before, then he left me to guard our catch while he went for tools. Skinning and gutting the goats was just as gross and messy as I expected it to be.

"for a cat girl you sure are squeamish." Dan said.

I pulled my hand out of the goats chest cavity, along with its lungs. and flicked them onto the pile of offal. We'd already eaten the livers and set aside the kidneys for cooking later, but that still left a fair few internal organs. While all of it was edible in theory, we didn't have the tools to cook them properly. The blood had soaked into my fur all the way to the elbows, making it feel sticky and uncomfortable. "It's like I have two minds sometimes. Part of me is still the trans girl from Indiana. Back there I’d never had to think about where hamburgers came from. Then there is another part of me that has no problem eating raw rat while it’s still warm."

Dan shivered at that. He crouched over the other goats hide with a flint scraper in his hand. "You ate raw rat, seriously?"

I rolled up to standing, taking care to keep my arms away from my new cloths. "It was the first thing I did when I got here. I saw movement and my hunting instincts just kicked in. Afterwards I nearly lost my cookies."

"Gross. Come strait back once you've cleaned up. You still need to slice that goat up and get it over the fire to smoke."

"Yes dad." I said, sticking my tongue out at Dan before skipping back down to the water. Getting my fur clean felt so great, even if it left my arms somewhat waterlogged. What the hell, I thought, tugging at the laces of my top. Moments later I was back in the water, swimming and diving. Afterwards I found a nice grassy spot and just lazed in the sun to dry. I'd never understood why cats spent so much of their time lazing about, but now it felt like the best idea I'd had in a long time.

A shadow blocked my sunlight. I rolled over and opened one eye only to see Dan standing over me. His arms stained with dark blood. The smell of wood smoke rolled off him in waves so strong that my nose itched. "You need a bath." He glowered down at me, grinding his teeth in large circles which made his tusks wobble. "The goats all done, thanks for asking." Heat rose to my checks. If not for my fur I'd my face would undoubtably be bright red. "Oh, I'm sorry. The water was so cool and I got distracted."

With a shrug, Dan turned his back on me and headed for the water, casting his loincloth aside. "Whatever."

I snapped my eyes shut, the blood positively pulsing in my cheeks. What the hell was wrong with me, I wondered. Blowing work off and going swimming? That wasn't like me, not like me at all.

At some point the Dan finished his bath and went past where I lay in the sun. I kept my eyes shut and feigned sleep as he passed. "Dan, I'm really sorry, I'll do better next time."

"The meat is going to take all night, you can have first guard shift." He said, then his shadow was gone again leaving me alone.

I waited for a slow count of fifty before rolling over and slipping back into my cloths. Then padded back to our work site. Dan had turned the hides into a makeshift smoke house. Inside, thin strips of goat meat hung from a matrix of branches above a lightly smoking fire. I settled down a ways away and scanned the clearing, hearing and finding nothing.

The fire didn't really need tending. Time passed, the sun set and the air cooled. Sounds of night life came to me from the distance. Small animals scuttled through the grass. Occasionally something squeaked, but nothing approached me or the smoke house.

I sat closer to the smoke house hugging my knees to my chest. Like a normal cat my fur wasn't entirely even, with the fur on down my front being a fair bit thinner than that on my back and limbs. I was still sitting like this when Dan showed up, with another animal hide draped over his shoulders. He paced around the smoke house. "Get some Sleep Tabby."

"Night Dan." I said as I uncurled from my spot and took off back towards the cave at a run. The moons were up providing enough light for my cats eyes. Back in the cave I found a flat piece of wall and marked two dashes with charcoal. One for each day I had spend in this world. Dan had gathered more rushes While I was swimming, so we now both had a comfortable place to sleep.

The next few days were a blur. Dan and I started talking again, which was good, and we had enough food to get by on for a while. We spent the mornings exploring, scouting not just the valley but also the surrounding desert. Afternoons meanwhile were for swimming and just lazying about in the sun.

On the sixth day I washed my cloths and hung them up to dry on top of an umbrella tree. That's when it stuck me, I'd remained in my cat girl form all this time. Weirdly, I wasn't even tempted to change back. After all the last time I did that, I ended up fighting a giant chicken.

My eyes came to rest on the smoke trails that still marked the western sky. The problem was that Dan seemed certain that his wife would show up in the valley. He was ready to wait forever, but how did he know? Even if she had spawned nearby, there was no guarantee that she would find the oasis. Then there was the problem that I had appeared days after Dan had. I worried at the problem all day.

That evening Dan surprised me with two eels that he had caught in the deepest pond in the valley and baked in the coals. The flesh was a little gritty but full of flavor. "Dan, have you considered, that your Linda might have not found this valley?"

At my words Dan grew still, gazing into the fire. He continued eating his eel, as if I hadn't spoken at all. I shifted closer, moving around the fire until we were almost shoulder to shoulder. "We're supposed to fight evil, or something aren't we?"

"It's too dangerous for a little girl."

I flicked the eel bones into the fire where they sizzled for a moment. "We're the same age Dan, no matter what I look like. Besides, If someone tries something I'll scratch their eyes out."

"You think you can do it, Tabby?" He said, finally looking at me. "Kill someone I mean, kill them before they kill you. This place is like the Wild West. No courts, no prisons, no due process, just swords and lynch mobs. That's what Hod told me, anyway."

I hadn't thought about it. Could I kill in self defense? Truth be told, I'd seen no real violence worse than a punch up at a rowdy bar. Sure stuff got broken, but no one was out to kill. It was just something to pass the time when you ran out of booze money. "Yea, I think I could. Maybe that's why Katia gave me this body. It knows how to kill, even if I don't."

"And could you live with yourself after?"

I stood up, stretching out my arms and legs. Outside the sun had set and valley was dark, already the heat of the day was fading into a clear cloudless sky. "Either way, eventually we die and face the gods. This is our second chance, and I will not waste it even if that means killing bad guys."

Dan flicked the remaining bones from his meal into the fire too, then stood. His shoulders drooped, as he strode to his sleeping spot, and fluffed up the rushes. "Good night Tabby."

"Good night," I said, settling into my bedding. "I'm leaving in the morning Dan, I'd like you to come with me, but I'm going even if you don't."

Neither of us slept much that night. I could still hear Dan tossing and turning long after the fire had burnt to embers. His final question stayed with me. Could I do it?

And then I prayed. I didn't get on my knees, or anything like that, but I prayed. I prayed to the goddess who had made me. Somewhere out in the far distance a lion roared, the sound echoing through the night. I took it to be the goddesses answer, what I'd told Dan was the truth.