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and deepest changewind in a decade. I have calculated it will penetrate the
Malabar
District just beyond the Brothers. It might well proceed a great distance
before going Outplane-it's that bad. Sit tight a full day and night more
before moving and take its aftermath into account when you go. I go to alert
those I can-or care to. Farewell, and may the winds be with you."
The image flickered out, the hold was released, and, as the sorcerer had
predicted, both of them fell unconscious to the floor. With Ladai's help he
got them apart and to the other tent, where they were laid side by side on
silk-covered rugs and silk pillows. Looking down at the pair, Ladai could only
shake her head in wonder. "It is incredible. And at such a distance! What
power he must have!"
Zenchur nodded. "And that is why we must do as he says even though our hearts
are not in it. I knew I should never have done that job for him, Jewel of Omak
or no Jewel of Omak. It was payment for services rendered but the bastard now
owns my soul. He knew about this! He knew even then! That is why he threw in
the spell that allowed me to learn his accursed tongue."
Ladai nodded sadly. "Still, they seem quite nice, if very shy and very
frightened girls. In a sense, they are more victimized than we. Their shyness
in front of you was actually quite touching. They took me as an equal, yet
were embarrassed and frightened by you. It would be well if they continued to
fear the Akhbreed and showed no hatred or fear toward the other races. It
shows what this world might become. See them now. They look so tiny-so
helpless. What in the name of the Five Netherworlds would cause two such
powers to go to such lengths to have them?"
"Just the one," Zenchur told her. She had understood none of the English
conversations and was very curious. "That one. The other is the decoy. I have
no idea what this could be about, but I am not certain which I envy least-the
one they want or the decoy." He sighed. "At least they won't need the Jewel of
Omak with us anymore. Our employer has seen to that."
The pair left them to their dreams, and they were vastly different dreams,
many in number and vivid in their realism. For Sam, the dreams were adventure
stories with, for her, an odd perspective. Time and again, through many
variations, she was the hero; a small but handsome man in sword and cape,
battling various monsters both human and inhuman, saving the innocent and the
helpless and rescuing the fair damsel in distress who then threw herself at
"him" in gratitude and love. They were a boy's dreams, romantic dreams, of
brave knights and muscled warriors vanquished by power and skill and guts.
And through it all ran a thread that somehow her mind; sorted out, and she
understood and she believed. You are a man, born heir to a kingdom that only
males can rule, but a great sorcerer stole your soul one day to advance the
cause of a greedy rival to the throne and placed it far away, in another
world, in the body of a girl. Now you are back in the land of your origins but
still in that alien female body but your soul rebels. Henceforth you will let
your soul guide you; you will look, act, talk, think like a man and all things
womanly you must put aside or you will remain trapped in that body forever.
None who do not now know your secret must ever know. You must put aside all
womanly things and convince everyone, even yourself, that you are male. Only
that way is redemption.
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But for Charley, the message was quite radically different, as were the
dreams.
For Charley, the dreams were exotic and erotic, almost a 1001 Nights scenario,
in which she was the beautiful slave girl coveted by all, or an exotic and
mysterious femme fatale desired by all men and using her charms to twist them
to her will. They were romantic fantasies of the power of beauty, of being so
alluring that men would risk their lives and their honor over her and for her
while she risked very little. They were curiously mixed, with dreams of power
intermingling with dreams of subjugation and domination, but they were all
intensely erotic.
And, deep inside, she knew that this was what she wanted. To be glamorous,
sexy, uninhibited, erotic, in all ways totally feminine, totally female.
Charley awoke first to find herself extremely turned on. She had awakened
turned on quite a few times since puberty, but never this intense. She just
lay there and felt herself up, mentally pretty well switched out. The same
girl who was so shy and terrified the night before of even revealing her naked
self would at that specific moment have been unable to resist the ugliest nerd
who might have walked in.
Charley's active moaning awakened Sam, who for a brief moment had that flash
of utter confusion when, opening your eyes and seeing strange surroundings
instead of a familiar room, you did not immediately remember where you were.
Then, abruptly, it all came back and she sat up, and as she supported herself
on her hands she felt a slight dull hurt on the left palm. She looked at it
and saw a tiny, odd-looking cross-shaped cut just below her thumb. It wasn't
very much, but it was slightly bruised and not yet quite scabbed over.
She looked down at her body and hated it. It was a prison, a shell that kept
her trapped. Still, a rush of hope and possible power went through her. She
was a man, damn it. She would behave that way and let no one know the secret
shame.
She heard Charley moaning and chuckled. The new Sam could give her what relief
was possible, but somehow the thought was no longer attractive but seemed
rather like kissing your sister. Well, time to get her up, anyway. But when
Sam turned and looked at her companion all such thoughts drained from her
along with some of her color. It wasn't Charley there beside her! It wasn't
Charley it was-Sam!
"Wake up!" Sam snapped. "What's going on here, anyway?"
Charley opened her eyes and smiled. "What's the problem?"
"Charley-that is you, isn't it?"
"Yeah, sure. What . . . ?" Sensing that something was definitely very wrong,
she jumped to her feet. "What's happened, Sam? What now?"
"Your face-your hair, your eyes, your build ... We always kinda looked like
sisters, but, Charley-you're me!"
Sam pointed to a scar on Charley's abdomen. "That's even my appendix scar, and
my birthmarks. A few of the freckles. Holy shit!"
Charley grabbed her hair, which was uncharacteristically trailing down her
back, and brought it forward. It was nice, thick hair but it was straight and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]