by Pam Uphoff
Tyrone looked really funny with half his hair fallen out. He was staying in a lot. She wasn't having to dodge him very much to keep her money.
Her only problem was being pregnant again. Ugg, must be about three months along, the way she felt.
She heard feet stomping up the stairs, and peeked out of her room.
Nabelle stalked in and stood glaring. "Look at me!" her voice squeaked and slid.
"Your hair's growing back in! Oh, that's so good!" Ericka felt faint with relief.
"Yeah? How about this?" Nabelle tried to jiggle her breasts. There wasn't much to jiggle.
"Umm, maybe they'll grow back too?"
"At first I thought I'd been turned into a lesbo." She peeled off her shift. "Look at that! It's a prick. Two fucking balls. Your stupid potion has turned me into a man."
Ericka stared at the evidence. "I suppose it's too much to hope for—that Tyrone is turning into a woman?"
Nabelle laughed at that, her voice jumping like a teenage boy's.
"Err, do you like being a man?"
"Do I like! Are you kidding . . . well the sex is fun as hell. But how am I supposed to earn a living? And my eyes aren't working right, they're way too sensitive to light."
"Umm, maybe some of the potions turn a man into a woman. I could test them on someone. How about Lew?"
"And Erald, and Haro. They're just waking up." They looked through the box and found three bottles with 'Lord' on them. They heated up some milk with honey and spices, filled three cups and dripped a bit from a bottle into each of them. Nabelle walked home with two, and Ericka walked over to Uncle Frank's house with the other.
"Hi Uncle Frank, is Lew here?" She glanced toward the back of the ramshackle building.
"Is that for him?"
"I wanted his opinion on the taste."
"Ha! You getting sweet on him? Noticed you were looking mighty fine lately. Let me take a taste." He drank it all. "Not enough liquor in it." He thunked down the cup and walked toward the back of the house.
Ericka winced, and picked up the cup and took it home. There was some warm milk left, so she filled the cup and added some drops from another 'Lord' bottle.
She heard yelling from the back of Uncle Frank's house and just left the cup on the table. She didn't need to be in the middle of anything.
Some time later she heard the sound of wood chopping and figured that Uncle Frank must have put Lew to work.
The tint of purple in Aunt Elma's hair was quite attractive. And while her skin improved, she still looked middle-aged or a bit more.
Aunt Norma, on the other hand, looked twenty, with a huge bosom and strawberry blonde hair. Uncle Willi went around looking exhausted, until she slipped him a couple drops of Lord Keffer.
Uncle Frank had turned his attentions to his sons. Three more bottles hadn't managed to change that back yet. Lew and Eddi weren't seen much. Skunk had moved in with Mouse and Crow.
Ericka frowned, trying to keep track. Neille had turned into a sexy young blonde, Dare was all masculine and had a job. They were still talking about marriage and gold mining. Marylu was a young brunette, and her husband was looking pretty happy, even if he did still live off her earnings. Which were considerable. She practically mugged men and dragging them into alleys. A couple had complained of being robbed, but admitted to having sex with her so the judge had tossed their complaints.
Kathi. Old Gods! She'd grown three inches, got tits that had to be seen to be believed and her hair was growing in jet black. The Duchess Fanci bottle.
Melodi's hair was getting really pale, and she was looking quite young. Not much bosom though. She was starting to attract a different sort of clientele.
Vonne's eyes had gone a funny gold color and her hair a golden blonde. That bottle would be bringing in a bunch of money. Lady Grace.
Rache had changed the least, just getting younger. Her eyes were still blue and her hair still a light brown. Lady Devi.
And most of them were pregnant and really irritated.
You just couldn't count on herbs, these days.
Chapter Four
Winter Solstice 1398
Grantown, Three Rivers Province
So. It was official. She owned a grubby little shed and over a thousand acres of steep, dry, rocky pasture.
"You shoulda just kept the money and bought more nice clothes." Neillie sniffed. "Sumtin' a bit more colorful. An looser. Yer really starting to show."
Ericka scowled at her cousin's back as she walked away.
I'm a business woman, now. Not a whore . . . except when I get horny.
Her eyes were drawn to four people strolling down the sidewalk. Two couples, looking around.
"The houses just aren't big enough. Cheap, sure, but with the corridors, we're practically in Karista, so why not live some where out in one of these little towns, where it's cheap." The two men nodded at each other. The women looked wistful.
Ericka stopped dead, thinking fast. Callouses on their hands, very new, very expensive clothes. Gold Miners. I could make a whole lot of money, here. She stepped closer, smiling.
"You . . . wanna buy a lot . . . say, up on that ridge there?" Rich gold miners . . . "Build a big mansion . . . Maybe a couple of acres? Keep a pony for the kids?"
One of the women perked up, turned and looked at her man. "Honey, thet Oldham Engineering, they do thangs real quick . . . "
"Yeah . . . they do . . . you a realtor, honey?"
"No. I'm t'owner of that ridge . . . and I'm thinking . . . I'm thinking . . . a row of mansions, with a view both east and west . . . " Ericka bit her lip. "Send that Old Ham to me and we'll just see what we kin do . . . "
She asked at the land office, about how to split her land. What she had to do was hire (and pay!) a surveyor to lay out a bunch of lots along the crest.
". . . three hundred feet north to south. And then . . . from t'boundary down there, over t'ridge and maybe another hundred feet?"
The surveyor nodded. "Right, that'll make each lot about seven hundred feet east to west . . . If you make it seven hundred and twenty-six feet your lots will be exactly five acres each."
Ericka blinked, nodded. "That's good, yeah. Five acres each."
He set up his assistant with a weird thing on three legs, and marched off with a pole.
Ericka tried and failed, to get her mind around the numbers. Finally gave up and paced out the distance. Thirty lots till the ridge starts dropping off into the pass through to our farms . . . She turned from the view of the river, back to the view over dry hills to the coastal mountains on the horizon. "Bet there's a great sunset from here." She swallowed and mentally upped the asking price for a lot on the crest. I could put in a street . . . put another row of lots down there . . .
***
All these corridors were changing how people traveled and lived.
Quail Quicksilver eyed the little town. A little battered and worn, but that was going to change fast. She looked around . . . that was the café where she was to meet this "Country Trash" landowner, and that ridge to the southeast must be the proposed site of Mr. Ben Beestine's mansion. The younger son of a Karista merchant, he'd made a fortune in the New Lands. And sensibly wanted to not spend the whole on an overpriced heap in the City. By living here, he'd have plenty left to invest and start his own business. A smart man.
A woman who matched the description Mr. Beestine had given her walked into the café. Q crossed the street.
"Hey, Cutie, haven't seen you around before."
Q stopped and eyed the man's bizarre calico hair.
He leered at her. Loomed.
She blinked in surprise. He actually finds me sexy? Old Gods, where have you been all my life?
"You want to go into business here, you need a man to protect you."
What?
"So here I am. My whores never . . ."
Oh. Figures.
A simple sleep spell—applied with a bit too much vigor—and Q turned away as he folded. She t
romped hard on her temper and stepped into the café. "Ericka Westerly? I'm Quicksilver Oldham. Call me Q, and tell me about this land Mr. Beestine's interested in."
***
Lunch ended with a hike up the ridge. Ericka gave the snoring Tyrone a kick as she passed. I wonder what this Q woman did to him? Ericka scrambled up the rocky slope, keeping an eye on Q, but she kept up with no problem.
"Nice view. I can see why Mr. Beestine's interested. You've got it surveyed . . . "
"Less'en half." Ericka scowled down the western slope. "I think maybe I'll run a road along the hill and do more lots down below."
"Oh yes. That would work. With the slope, the houses down there won't block the view from up here. And it'll make the road to town much easier." The Q woman stepped off the crest of the ridge and down to the end survey markers.
"Yeah. I hadn't thought about the road down." Erica winced. I'll have to sell some lots to pay for the road. Drat, I ought to have known it wouldn't be so easy to get rich.
The Q woman looked along the slope. "It'll be easy. The rock is pretty much on the surface up here." She spread her arms a bit and started walking. "Press down on that side and raise it a bit on the other . . ." She trailed off absent-mindedly and walked along.
Ericka froze. The rocks really were sinking a bit upslope and raising a bit down slope . . . and the now flat surface looked like solid rock. She edged down closer and felt it. Solid rock.
She didn't say how much . . . I didn't agree to pay nothing . . . She can't make me pay . . . I don't think . . .
And . . . maybe Magic can be more than potions.
Ericka followed along behind her all the way to the end of the last lot and . . . "Hey! Hey, stop now! That's almost the end of my land."
The Q woman blinked around, stopped. "Oh, I'd better make a little circle here, so people can turn around."
Erica frowned upslope. What with the rock sinking, there was a foot high jump up to the lots. "I'll have to dig out the slope a bit for carriageways, I suppose."
"Oh, sure, what was I thinking?" Q walked back to the north end of the last lot. "I could angle it to make it easy on the horses.
The rocky soil shifted again as the woman walked up slope.
Ericka bit her lip. The woman was sort of fogged out . . . how far could she push it? And did she dare?
"I figure Mr. Beestine will want a little stable here, and then the house right up on top of the ridge."
The woman nodded. "Yeah . . . " waved her hands and the rocks squirmed around like clay and formed walls, a roof.
Ericka walked in. Four stalls, couple other rooms, for feed and harness, not much of a hay loft. Plenty of room to get a carriage under cover.
"Wow. This is incredible." She looked around . . . "Talking to myself."
The Q woman was . . . probably inside that big house that was sort of growing out of the ground. Ericka swallowed. Found a nice rock to sit on, looking out at the dry hills.
I gotta think about this magic thing. That dirty old man said he'd given me magic. Ericka looked at her own hands. Held them out. The rocks ignored her. I'm not magic. How can dirt poor country trash be magic?
After a while, the Q woman came and joined her.
"Whew! I haven't done a building trance in almost a year. I really hope you wanted a house there."
Ericka pulled her mind back to reality. "Oh yeah. But . . . how am I going to pay you?" Oops, ought not have said that . . .
"Oh . . . well, sell it first. I'd recommend trying for a hundred thousand royals . . . are you feeling all right? Umm, oh, send me a quarter of that." A quick flash of a grin. "Next time I'll want half, and I'll negotiate in advance."
Ericka's haggling instincts cut short her grasping at figures she barely comprehended. "Half! Well . . . I'll see how this one sells. Maybe Mr. Beestine won't like it."
Q grinned again. "That's the spirit. Now I need to eat again after that, so why don't we head back to town . . . you know, a corridor would be a lot less work than a road down from here. I could put the other end down by the corridor to Karista . . . "
Ericka swallowed. I'm either going to be rich, or running away screaming.
Mr. and Mrs. Beestine loved the house, and their friends the Jacksons wanted one built next door.
"Not exactly like it, honey, because I don't want to look like a copy cat."
They shuttled between bank and courthouse, and . . . Ericka was rich.
"We'll send Q!" Mr. Jackson told her.
"And tell all our friends!" Mrs Jackson was beaming.
Ericka went and found a nice quiet spot to recuperate in private. Then she went and stared at her little shed.
"I'm going to tear it down and build a big house right here, so my family can see how rich I am, every time they walk into town." She sat down and stared at the bottles.
They change people. People change all the time, but this . . . is different. I was a tired, worn out whore, like, six months ago. So I'm glad I changed. I'm glad I took that potion. I'm still me, it only changed my body. She glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of the ridge. Well, maybe I'm a little smarter. But that's good too.
But what if someone sneaked me a potion to make me stupid? That isn't right. I won't do any more experimenting, and no more hexes. That was a bad idea.
She felt her pockets. No matches. She turned for home. I'll burn it down tomorrow.
A lifetime of grubbing for money rose up to scream in horror at the very idea.
"Well . . . maybe."
And when that Q woman comes back . . . I'll ask her if I'm magic. Maybe she gives lessons.
Corridors
Chapter One
Fall 1397
Grantown, Three Rivers Province
Colonel Garit Negue waved the troops out to their sweep position. The problem with bandits was that they were mobile. You made it too hot for them in one area, and they just moved to the next. But they'd moved too far north, this time. Too close to large established towns to be allowed to stay. And too far north to get to any of the easy passes through the mountains to the east. Which presented the authorities with an opportunity they were determined to exploit.
Garit's job was to keep them from going any further north, push them south into the loving embrace of the troops coming north from Havwee.
The first thing he had to do was find them. He'd started their sweep in the middle of Three Rivers Province and headed south, hopefully at least pushing the bandits away from the towns, and with luck trapping them against the mountains.
It was interesting countryside, with low north-south running ridges that tended to be barren and dry, with fertile little pocket valleys of a few thousand acres in between. Most of them were farmed, easy to check, but as they moved south the farms thinned out and the valleys had pockets of woods that needed to be combed. In the unseasonably warm weather the trees were all leafed out, and the horses were sweating.
Garit was sweating nearly as much as Acrobat.
But it beats the hell out of being stuck in town, behind a desk. Thank the Old Gods that the worse that will happen to me is being officially confirmed as the Spear Heir! I love being out here with the troops. Poor Staven, he may have to be king, whether he likes it or not.
It was getting drier, too. Most of the streambeds they were checking were dry. They were stopping at farms and pumping water for their horses, and keeping full canteens themselves. One valley full of neglected pasture reverting to woods was a real pain to sweep. They rode down to the cluster of four farms in the middle to get water, and two people, brother and sister by their looks, walked out a house, arguing. "It's mine." The woman was glaring at the man, and grabbing for the jug he held up out of her reach.
Garit looked them over. "Afternoon. Just sweeping through for bandits. You folks have any problems?" A polite question. From the looks of the place there wasn't anything worth taking—including the woman.
"The Gold Gang? We don't get that sort up here." The man curled a
lip. "You want some action, you've got to go south."
"Been there, ran them out, now we've got to make sure they don't get too far north. Sooner or later we'll run them down. By your leave, we'll pump some water for our horses."
"Oh, sure. Ericka, show the troops the pump." He held the jug out to Garit. "Like a swig of something better?"
Probably not. But he took it anyway, for politeness. Rather than the rotgut he'd expected, it was some weird fermented honey and milk concoction. Must be a local specialty. He handed the jug back, and thanked him as a ruckus rose behind one of the other farm houses.
He trotted Acrobat over, but it was just a to-do with the horses. The farmer's draft horse stallion had gotten overexcited by the influx of strange horses and broken out. The experienced horse handlers were already leading the big bay off and locking him up in the barn. No one had gotten hurt, but from the kidding someone's mare had gotten bred.
Acrobat raised her head and snorted, sounding amused. Xen had repressed the hormones of most of the mares in the troop, and most of the horses were geldings in any case. Slim pickings for the escapee.
His head sergeant came over shaking his head. "I can't believe they don't keep a horse like that in a higher fence."
They got back on the road to the tune of jokes about the mare liking the way 'that other fellow' mounted better.
They found the river in the late afternoon. The current was high this time of year, but they'd beaten the main ice breakup. There was a low water ford marked on the map, with one of their supply dumps, on the far side of the river. The scouts found the ford a few miles upstream. Deeper than normal, with a wicked current through the channels.
Garit looked across the river. A neat pile of crates. He gave a piercing whistle, and a head poked up from behind it, a slim figure . . . yes. Q was still there, no doubt not wanting the bandits they were after to walk off with their food and grain.
She made grab, as if after a bug, and then a throwing motion.
