by CA Morgan
“Then what he says is true?”
“Yes, I have felt his presence here. He is my sire.”
“Your king?”
“No, my father.”
Eris felt an uneasy pit suddenly drop open in his stomach. This, he hadn’t expected. “You look more like his grandmother.”
“What's this? Insult a lady in her own house,” the woman said, but didn’t really sound offended. She came down the steps and stood in front of him. “Close your eyes.”
Eris hesitated and heard the door close behind him. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. A quick glance behind told him no one was there.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “It’s just going to be very bright in here for a moment.”
Tightening his grip on the sword, he did as she asked. He squeezed his eyes even tighter and turned his head as the light was very bright to say nothing of the heat wave that swept over him. When the light faded and the coolness returned, he turned back to see what had happened.
Neither father nor daughter can resist their trickeries, he thought, and stepped away from her. He should have expected it.
The old woman was gone. In her place a young one full of life and color. Her skin was pale against the vibrant red of her tight-fitting dress, and a mass of wavy, golden-red hair tumbled over her bare shoulders. He noted her eyes were the same color as the so-called sorcerer’s and even twinkled with the same inner fire.
“I rarely appear to mortals in this form, which is also why I get very few visitors,” she explained. “I don’t suppose I need to explain that to you, though, do I?”
“Hardly,” Eris answered and wished she would go back to being the crone. “I have all the answers I need. There is no mistaking the family resemblance.”
“Now, I am offended. I rather think I favor my mother,” she said, then took Eris by the arm and turned him around. “Look up at the windows. Do you see my father?”
Eris looked to where she pointed. Rising up from a primal fire was the striking likeness of the red-beard. In the glass on the other side of the door was the image of a watery storm fury from which came the slender form of a woman dressed in green with hair so pale it was almost white. High overhead the two glass panels met as did the elements of water and fire, from which emerged the face of the woman who stood behind him.
“There you see the greatest tale of elemental passion that can ever be told. That of Raga-Tor and Kemara-Tir, first elemental of water. For thousands of years the elementals created and destroyed, because they didn't know anything else. In time, reason and thought coalesced and they began to control the raw elements of their powers. They began to communicate and create a world, which none could do alone. I have the distinction of being the first child born to any of the elementals. But, as I’m really my father's daughter rather than my mother's, they named me Keku Raga-Tir,” the woman concluded.
The spawn of devils is more like it.
“How can you not be your mother’s daughter?” he asked.
“That is something we rarely discuss with mortals,” Keku-Tir answered. She eyed Eris thoughtfully. “I suppose, though, if my sire sought you out he must have good reason, so maybe I could tell you.”
“Then you don’t know what has supposedly happened?”
“Yes and no. I hear stories, but then there are always stories. You have one yourself, don’t you?” she probed and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Eris felt the heat in her touch and shied away.
“I have all the answers I need,” he said abruptly and headed for the door.
“I doubt it,” Keku-Tir said, cutting off his path. “You will soon see that all your answers lead only to more and deeper questions. Your fate, as the flames of vision show me, is not that of an ordinary mortal. But, enough of this serious talk. Look again at the glass overhead. Do you see something missing?”
“No.”
“Too bad, because I do. For three millennia not one soul, mortal or elemental, has been worthy in my estimation to be the catalyst for my progeny, to join in the creation of a new soul. That was until today. And now,” Keku-Tir said, running a warm hand down Eris’ cheek and under his chin, “I may have to change my mind. It’s a rare thing for any elemental to purposely seek out a mortal. Something I shall explore further when you’re finished with Raga-Tor.”
“I think not.” Eris quickly side-stepped the sorceress and was out the door.
Keku-Tir stood next to the window and watched him disappear around a stand of trees. She hummed an ancient tune and a pleased smile lit her face. The fire in her eyes burned a little brighter as her vibrant gown faded to the plain, gray work dress of the old crone, who stoked the fires in the temple of Keku Raga-Tir.
By the time Eris returned to the Black Mare Inn, it was almost noon. The common room was empty as he passed through and headed up to his lodging. Raj was already afield as the plan was to spend a part of the day with their comrades inspecting incoming caravans. All that was left for him to do was await the dreaded arrival of Raga-Tor. It wasn’t long until there was a heavy knock on his door.
“At least you used the door this time,” Eris said, stepping aside to allow Raga entrance.
“It’s good to see you too,” Raga commented, coming into the room. “This place is a lot shabbier by daylight. Seems a bit below your standards, I’d say.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Have you decided what you will do?”
“It seems I have no other viable option but to join you. You obviously won’t leave me alone until you get what you want.” The words nearly gagged him. He forced down the revulsion rolling in the pit of his stomach. “But I warn you, old man, I’ll be watching your every move. Trick me, and I’ll kill you.” Once I figure out how.
A broad smile gleamed on Raga’s face, threat or no. He turned and clapped Eris on the back.
“Good! I knew you would see things my way. Trust me, I’m really not such a bad fellow.”
“I’m not sure your daughter agrees with you.” Eris went to answer another knock at the door.
“Lunch,” Raga said, motioning the serving girls in. Two carried trays of food and drink, one brought a small table and another held two sturdy chairs. When they had gone, he continued. “I should have expected you would go to see her. Well, and what did she say?”
“Nothing much, except that you are who you say you are,” Eris answered.
“That was good of her. I should see her sometime and thank her for helping me.” He pulled Eris across the room and shoved him down into a chair. “Eat. I have a few more things I need to ask you.”
Eris poured a cup of wine, drank, and filled it once more.
Raga eased onto a chair. “Now, perhaps, we can begin again and speak a little more civilly to each other. And before I forget, I must compliment you.”
“What for?”
“For not killing yourself.”
“Why would I do that?”
“A man, such as yourself, must find this particular curse of Charra-Tir’s quite unbearable.”
“Just don’t make a habit of reminding me.”
“All of the others so cursed killed themselves within a month,” Raga explained as-a-matter-of-factly.
“Others?”
“Believe me, you aren’t the first so afflicted and I doubt the last. This spell is a particular favorite of that witch. I’m sure she believes you’ve gone the way of the others. Won’t you be a devilish surprise on her doorstep,” Raga explained and raised his brimming cup to Eris. “To our victory. Soon may it come.”
For the first time in several days, and quite in spite of himself, Eris managed a partial smile. Seeing that, Raga bellowed with laughter and shoved a monstrous piece of bread into his mouth. Soft, white crumbs dotted the red-gold field of his chest.
The two of them ate and drank for some time without speaking. Raga laughed to himself occasionally, likely for the amount of wine that flowed, but Eris remained
coolly reserved. He rarely trusted anyone enough to get drunk in their presence, and certainly not in the presence of an elemental sorcerer.
“Ahh.” Raga belched and sprawled back in his chair. “Now, my boy, er— excuse me, Eris, I want to know the specifics of your curse.”
“Why? I thought you knew all about it.” Eris leaned back and put his feet up on the edge of the table.
“Well, most everything. I never went up to any of those others and asked them directly. They were miserable, pathetic creatures. I didn’t want to make them feel worse off.”
“What makes you think I’m any different?”
“Well. . .you’re still alive for one. And two, you’ve found some way to live with it without having lost your mind. Both admirable traits as far as I’m concerned.”
“I see.” He ignored the compliment. “It’s simple. Every time I desire a woman, I become one. I stay in that form until either my life is threatened, as you saw yester eve, or until the night of the new moon,” Eris explained, folding his arms across his chest. “The witch has everything thought out so perfectly. Faced with life-threatening danger, I change back into a man just in time to continue living this impossible existence. Then, there are those times when I can’t change back. I have to live that way for days at a time, and hide myself from the men I worked with only a day or two before. I get tired of making up excuses for my sudden disappearances and odd behavior. This has to end one way or another.”
“Then as I said, together, we can end this for both of us,” Raga commented. “How often do you change these days?”
“If you’ve really been following me for several months, as you claim, wouldn’t you already know?”
“Well, I did lose you more often than not,” Raga admitted.
Eris was inwardly pleased. He didn’t think he had really lost his ability to know when he was being watched and followed.
“At first it happened so often that I considered carrying a silvered glass just to make sure who and what I was,” Eris said. “Now, I’ve managed to control my impulses for the most part.”
Raga grinned. “What do you look like as a woman? I’ve never seen you that way up close.”
Eris shrugged. “Just like any other I suppose. I’ve never bothered to look at myself too closely during that time. It makes me sick to think about it.”
“Well, I need to know, so think of some wench and change,” Raga said so off-handedly that Eris was startled. He bolted up straight in his chair, eyes wide with shock.
“What! There’s not enough gold in this entire city to bribe me to do that. It’s bad enough I’ve agreed to help you. You don’t need to mock me. Besides, do you know how exhausting that is? Unlike you, I can't just wave my hand and become something else.”
Raga waved Eris to silence. “Listen to me. If my plan for getting the second gem is going to work, I need to know what you look like as a woman. Do you think I can trust a real woman to do what I have in mind?” He frowned at Eris. “Stop your foolishness. If you’re ugly, then we’ll have to find a real woman anyway. Now change. Do whatever it is you do.”
“You’re crazy. This is the most insane thing I’ve heard yet and I’ve no use for it. Why don’t you get out of here and I’ll forget I ever saw you.” Angrily, Eris stood up and waited impatiently for Raga to rise.
“I’m not leaving. As long as those gems are out there, I’m with you. You disappoint me, though. I didn’t think there was anything you feared doing,” Raga said with emphasis on the word ‘fear.’ It had the desired effect.
Eris drew himself up straight.
“Afraid? Why should I be afraid?’
“Then what’s stopping you?”
“It disgusts me. It’s wrong.”
Raga shrugged. “All I can say is that the sooner you do this, the sooner our plan takes another step forward.”
Eris was at a loss. Every argument that entered his head was futile. He scowled at Raga and gave up.
“I’m certainly not going to do it in front of you.” He turned and went behind the warped wooden partition. He stared at the paint peeling off in ugly, cankerous flakes. His frustration peaked. Everything in his life, his surroundings, his predicament suddenly seemed dirty and squalid. After a few frustrating minutes, he came back around the partition unchanged.
“What’s wrong?” Raga asked, but he saw the anger etched on Eris’ arrogant face.
“I can’t do this. Yesterday was enough. Why don’t we just get on the road across the escarpment and see if it happens along the way?”
Raga sat up straighter and drank the rest of the wine. “We don’t have time to find a replacement if you aren’t suitable for the task that I believe faces us.”
“I’ll be glad for the day your logic fails you,” Eris said annoyed. “This isn’t as easy to do as you think. I’ve spent the last three or four phases of the moon teaching myself how not to daydream. Yesterday was an accident.”
“We need to get you un-spelled in a hurry. You’re becoming unhealthy,” Raga jested.
Eris’ scowl darkened.
“Go downstairs and get a wench—one that dances.”
“Good idea. What kind do you want? Blond, red-head—”
“I don’t care. Whatever you want. At this point I’m sure even fat, old and ugly will serve.”
Raga snickered.
Eris walked around the partition. “If the lore of Raga-Tor is right about anything, it’s this obnoxious mean streak you have.”
Raga stood and went to the door. “I’ll bring you a pretty one. When you’ve changed, drop something on the floor and I’ll get rid of her. And take off those clothes. You need to be just right from head to foot for this to work.”
Eris instinctively had a bad feeling. Having survived this long in the environs of magic, he knew when trouble perched on his windowsill.
Hearing the door close, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it across the room to the bed. He grabbed a chair and pulled it up close to the partition. He sat and pulled off his boots. He decided to wait until after the change to take off the rest. Maybe that way he wouldn’t feel quite so self-conscious.
He untied the leather bracers on each forearm and slid them off. He squeezed the leather of one to make sure the green gem was still where it should be, and then pushed both of them deep into one boot.
Waiting for Raga, he felt acutely embarrassed. What in the Seven Hells was he doing by agreeing to display himself stark naked in front of a man he had just met? A man he didn’t even want to know. He rubbed his face with his hands and felt a little dazed, definitely confused, and most disturbing of all, he felt completely vulnerable with all control slipping from his grasp. Eris Pann, on most days, was a consummate leader and nothing escaped his astute attention. The present situation was completely unacceptable and becoming more so.
Before he sunk into another raging pit of anger, the door opened and a laughing girl glided into the room.
“You know, I really can’t dance without music,” she chirped.
“Don’t worry, little bird, my musician is behind that partition. He’s not a pretty sight so I keep him hidden.”
“Oh. I’ve heard that really ugly people are crazy and dangerous,” she half whispered and was careful not to look toward that part of the room.
Raga smiled and clapped his hands together. “You may begin.”
Eris jumped and stifled a curse when a lute and tambour, glowing like red-gold flames, appeared floating in the air beside his head. In spite of himself, he was amazed by the delicate, rich tones of the phantom instruments.
Eris leaned forward and rested his chin in cupped hands. The hinges that held the coarse wooden panels together sagged to create a narrow gap through which he saw the girl. Wrapped in yards of colorful veils, she began the first swaying steps of her slow, sensuous dance.
Raga kept his promise and found a girl who was quite lovely. During his stay at the Black Mare, he had only seen her a couple of times. She was sli
m of waist and long of arm. Her flaxen hair, caught up in a golden band atop her head, cascaded down as a silken mane glimmering gold in the light of the afternoon sun.
Relax, enjoy the moment, Eris thought, when after several minutes the metamorphosis had yet to occur.
The dancer pulled the last, pink diaphanous veil from the golden garter hung with tinkling bells that encircled her waist. She pulled the cloth slowly across her nude, swaying body. She swooned and flung it from her.
Eris felt the faint tickling sensation come over him that heralded the beginning of the transformation. The pent up emotion he didn’t allow himself with Kaitay took control. He squirmed on the stool wishing he didn’t know what was coming next.
The dancer gracefully gathered up the veils from the floor until she had them all in her arms, then launched them into the air. Amidst a mass of misty colors, she swayed.
With Raga’s help, the veils remained aloft floating up and down like a fairy queen’s gossamer sea. The girl, oblivious of the enchantment upon her veils, whirled, eyes closed, her nude body glistening. Her face echoed the rapture of the haunting melody that pulsed with sensuous life.
Eris clamped his hands over his mouth. Loins of Verin how he wanted that girl. His desire, so long put in chains, roared through him. He fought the impulse to rush out and grab her if only for a moment. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He gasped as the force of the curse hit him with strength equal to that of his passion.
The weakness. The awful weakness fell upon him first turning his taut, muscled body into the svelte form of the woman he became. Tiny hands seemed to massage his head as his hair lengthened and tickled him in the small of his back. As always, the emotional drain was immense. Suffering through the change twice in as many days, he nearly fainted for the exhaustion. His desires fled from him as dust before a storm, and he was filled with the emotions of any other woman in Rennas Baye. He suddenly feared the streets that only yesterday he had traversed quite unconcerned. He felt anxiety about his appearance and other insignificant details, that as a man, he gave nary a thought.
When it was over, Eris slumped forward, hands resting against the floor. Voluptuous, bare breasts touching, pressing against his thighs made him feel sick. The presence of the beautiful dancer prancing about the room annoyed him. Wearily, he picked up a boot and let it drop to the floor.
