Transformed (Ancestral Magic Book 2)

by Michael DeAngelo

  “Oh, use me however you like, Mister Camlann,” she cooed.

  Gaston bowed his head and pushed out a weary sigh. “Adelia—that is, Miss Kreegan here—is learning her talents as a sorceress. My skills are more studious in nature, but you have an affinity for the arcane arts that coincides in some ways with hers.”

  Lucinda scoffed. “You think your little pet here could play with transformative powers?”

  “I’d be more surprised if she couldn’t,” the sage assured.

  The sorceress looked to Gaston’s pupil, who returned a sheepish glance before averting her gaze. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “Whatever keeps me close to you, that is. You, girl,” Lucinda said as she stepped forward. “I’m sure this deliciously dull man has thrown books and tomes and research at you since you’ve arrived in Forsynthia. How’d you like to trade paper cuts for real magic?”

  Adelia shrugged and gave Merlin a gentle pat.

  “Oh, Gaston, you’ve sheltered the poor thing. No matter. We’ll break you of that reticence. Before long, you’ll speak every word that comes into your pretty little head with nary a thought.”

  “Please, Lucinda,” Gaston said. “We don’t need two of you.” She gave a dainty little harrumph to which the sage could not suppress a laugh. “Now then, you brought some manners of comfort, yes?”

  “What kind of woman do you take me for, Mister Camlann? Do you expect me to just show up in your bed? Again?” Seeing that he was not amused by that recollection, she let that humor flutter away on the ends of her fingers. “Not to worry, Gaston. My man is already delivering my bags as we speak.”

  Chapter Two: Property

  A grumbling Gaston set to work putting his study back in order. When they arrived back at the keep to place Lucinda’s belongings in a more agreeable place—far from them, the sage had whispered to his pupil—they had found the room in terrible disarray. The visiting arcanist’s lackey had transformed back into a rodent and run amok in the room until Gaston opened the door, allowing the creature to scurry to freedom.

  “This is becoming an all-too-familiar occurrence,” the sage said. “This study has never seen such foul treatment as these past months.”

  “Oh, but I do love when he gets that little growl in his throat,” Lucinda whispered. She placed her hand on Adelia’s shoulder and leaned in to offer another secret. “He may be old, but he still has such vigor.”

  “And excellent hearing at that,” Gaston spoke. “Don’t go speaking your foul poison into my apprentice’s ear. She has such a nice disposition. It would be a shame to see it flagged simply by your presence.”

  “Very well,” she said. Her movements were choreographed in the most perfect manner. The fluttering of her lashes disguised her rolling eyes, and an innocent shrug hid the subtle shake of her head. “Well then, you precious little thing, allow me to explain the basics of transformative magic. We might as well make a learning experience of this mess.

  “First, the cardinal rule of transformations: whatever will be, forever will be. Oh yes, you can put a comb on a chicken and call her a rooster, but behind the disguise, she’s still a mad hen. The same goes for our dirty little squirrel who made all this trouble for us. I turned him into a spry young man instead, but he was still a furry ball of fluff and claws behind the curtain. And the poor thing thought his tail was lost forever. And those flowers out in the garden, they’ll be back to normal by this afternoon.”

  Adelia’s eyes flashed with curiosity, but she swallowed away her questions, along with her trepidation, and nodded instead.

  “Well, go on, my dear,” Lucinda said. “It’s not common knowledge. You’re allowed to wonder how it all works.”

  “Ask away, Adelia,” Gaston bade. Though he had a meticulous focus on the books he arranged, he still cared to observe the lesson. “If you don’t, our friend here will invent all manner of questions for you and answer them until we’re ready for bed.”

  Lucinda smirked at that remark but rolled her hand through the air, granting permission once more.

  “Well,” Adelia hesitated. “When something is transformed—a living creature, I mean—is it painful?”

  “She has a sinister side, Gaston,” the sorceress said, raising her eyes and offering a delighted smile. “That is an excellent first query. Now, if I took your arm and stretched it out to be twice as long, you’d imagine the agony would be quite immense, wouldn’t you? Indeed, a fledgling witch or wizard would likely overlook that whole part of the process. But you, you’re already thinking ahead. This is quite good. A skilled practitioner can make the process of transformation quite painless. It is almost as though you pass the subject through a cloud, where all sensation is suddenly diminished. Our friend, the runaway squirrel, wasn’t even aware he had been transformed.”

  Adelia arched an eyebrow and brought up her finger. “You said they have the ability… Does that mean you could have made the poor thing endure that pain if you wanted to? And what about when the enchantment has ended? If you’re not around when the spell wears off, do they feel pain when they revert to their original state?”

  On the other side of the room, Gaston could not hide his impossibly large smile. For the first time in as long as he could remember, someone could outtalk Lucinda.

  The plump sorceress held up her hand. “Now then, young lady, wouldn’t you rather I show you the answers to all the questions?”

  Adelia looked to the sage, who nodded and shooed her away. “The farther she is from this room, the quicker I can put it in order once more.”

  “Come now, Miss…Kreegan, was it? We’ll go back out to the gardens where I’m sure we’ll be more appreciated.”

  Lucinda ushered Gaston’s apprentice down the steps into the courtyard once more, and they passed through the gates of the keep. They did not venture much farther than that, though, stopping once they arrived beside the first long stretch of wildflowers.

  “Now, what better way for you to learn about transformative magic than to feel it yourself?” the sorceress asked. “What would you like to be? A fox? A sloth? A cat, like your furry friend in Gaston’s care?”

  Adelia’s eyes went wide as she considered the curse Lucinda was about to impart on her. “I’d rather not change at all!” she cried.

  “Nonsense, you won’t feel a thing.” Lucinda didn’t allow Gaston’s apprentice to put up any more of a fight before she pointed at her with her cane. Contrary to her insistence, Adelia did feel something. It was like tiny sparks firing in her muscles, not so painful as it was unfamiliar. But the sorceress stopped and lowered her cane. “Hmm, you’ve got tremendous will, girl. It would take incredible magical prowess to convince you to change your skin, and I’m just not sure I have it in me to risk that much power.”

  The girl smiled at that notion and found herself more interested in that branch of arcane arts than ever. “So, you can’t just change anything you see? Other people can’t be transformed?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, dear child. Believe me, I’m the authority on husbands who turned out to be animals. But a caster’s will must be considerably greater than that of their subject. And someone’s will is affected by so many things. I perish to think of being able to work transformative magic on the great sage of Forsynthia. But if I caught him in bed, oh, I’d turn him into a mighty stallion.”

  Adelia averted her gaze again, and Lucinda blew out a weary sigh. “Oh, you meek little thing. You are certainly old enough where a fire should be running through you, not extinguishing with every taboo thought that crosses your mind. Erm, don’t let Gaston know about that. Our little secret and all that. Moving on…

  “We came out here to let you get a taste of transformation. Let’s see you test your mettle. We’ll start with something simple. These flowers are red. I’d like to see you turn them blue. Can you do that?”

  “I’ll try,” Adelia said. After an uncomfortable, elongated silence, the girl turned to her new tutor. “How do I start?”

 
“Of course,” Lucinda said, placing her hand to her head. “It isn’t second nature to you. I should have been more aware. Adelia, when you look at me, you can see the purple of my dress. With magic, you can reach into an item like it is a river. And in that river, you can feel the purple, the same way you’d feel its texture. Before your hand leaves that river, you can move it about until the color changes. Reach into the flower, Miss Kreegan. Feel its properties. Change them as you will.”

  The pupil narrowed her eyes and focused on the closest flower. She stared at it for some time, as though she would see the river Lucinda spoke of. Just as she was about to concede, she felt a response from the flora, as though it knew it was being meddled with. It was as if a door had opened and Adelia was invited in. Beside her, the plump sorceress watched as the apprentice scanned every aspect of the flower. Adelia felt its texture from within: its moisture, its age, its scent. And then, she felt its color. It was warm and bold, and it sat with pride above the other properties. Still, it quivered when the girl’s hand drew in around it. Try as she did, she couldn’t change that element.

  “What’s the matter, girl?” Lucinda asked.

  “It…it doesn’t want to be changed.”

  “Well, of course it doesn’t want to be changed. It’s a red flower. That’s what it’s always been, and that’s what it endeavors to be. But you must want it to change more. Use some of that impressive will I felt earlier. Tell it that it will change back, if you have to.”

  Diving back into that open door, Adelia found the color once again and placed her hand upon it. When it was not so apprehensive, the girl invited her magic upon it.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of the bright crimson turning into a muted blue. But her brow furrowed as she felt it change from within.

  “Excellent work,” Lucinda praised. “Perhaps Gaston did right by taking you under his wing.”

  Adelia felt gratified in that moment. The sorceress had offered that encouragement without bemusement, and she seemed distant from her usual risqué train of thought. But she remained focused on the girl, which had Adelia cocking her head. “What?”

  “What is this?” Lucinda asked. “What’s wrong with your face? Why’s it gone all…sour?”

  The pupil felt her brow still furrowed then and bowed her head. “It didn’t want to change, and when I forced it to, I could feel its pain.”

  Lucinda nodded. “You changed it from its innermost being. Without the skill or experience to know how to ease that transition, it will always sting a little. In time, you’ll find you can erase that pain and discomfort the same way you can change its color. And in any case, it will eventually return to form as good as new.”

  “But that’s not always the case, is it?” Adelia asked. “I mean, if you turned a man into a mouse and a cat ate him…”

  “If whole, the mouse might survive, but the cat would certainly not. Think of it this way: you could change the color of a rose and pluck it from the ground. While the color may revert, the flower will never again be one with its stem.

  “Let’s do away with all this dreadful talk of death and dismemberment, shall we?” she went on. “After all, we’re here to show you how interesting and useful and entertaining this power is. Now, you wouldn’t be able to turn this flower into gold right now because you don’t understand the properties of gold. Every item, every creature, every person has a unique composition, and you’ll need experiences with each of them before you can change something to reflect what you know. Now, you have me here, so you’ve got the benefit of someone who has seen it all. Use the flower as the canvas and my experience as the brush. Go on, dear girl. Think of anything you’d like.”

  Adelia stared at that flower and thought about what her teacher said. “Can you turn it into gold?”

  “Starting simple, are we?” Lucinda snapped her fingers, and between the pupil’s blinks, the blue and green had been encased in gold. “Pick something a little more challenging. Flex your imagination.”

  Nodding, Adelia cast her gaze about the gardens. She spotted a butterfly that flittered about the flowers—perhaps the same one Merlin intended to hunt that morning. “That butterfly there,” she pointed. “Can you change it so it becomes a dragon but remains the same size?”

  “Oh!” Lucinda exclaimed with pride. “Delightful. Now remember: what will be will always be. It may look like a dragon, but it’s still a butterfly at heart.”

  A little puff of smoke encompassed the butterfly, and when it cleared, a dragon was in its place. Adelia smiled, especially as the confused creature came close. “So, I don’t expect it to breathe fire, but could it?”

  “In theory,” Lucinda said. “It has the necessary anatomy to do so, but being that it’s never had those organs before, it wouldn’t know how to use them. Consider this: if I transformed you so you had wings, you couldn’t fly—at least, not right away. You had to learn how your legs worked, and it would be the same for wings.”

  “And your squirrel…when you turned him into a human, I’m guessing he couldn’t speak.”

  “Well, that’s a bit trickier. Speech is inferred knowledge. That poor squirrel couldn’t speak any better than a backwoods yokel. But a city mouse that heard humans talk every day? He’d be able to reproduce dialog before he’d change back, I’m sure. And you’ve already toyed with advanced properties. Our little dragonfly here is the product of two different concepts, but we could give him the ability to speak if he were human.”

  “Like Gaston’s bluebird,” Adelia surmised.

  The sorceress groaned. “He still keeps that thing around? Gaston isn’t sure what he wants to be, I’m afraid. A wizard? A cleric? A druid? I wouldn’t be altogether surprised to hear he’d dabbled in necromancy. I admire his pursuit of knowledge, but he’s let his life pass him by.

  “We’re off track again. Let’s try one more. Make this one a good one.”

  Again, Adelia took account of the area around her. She stepped away from Lucinda and bent low to scoop something up. “All right, this one might seem a little strange, but when my mother gathered the first fall harvest, she always made a delicious blueberry pie. Now, I know you won’t be able to make that pie, but I’m willing to bet you’ve had your fair share of delectable foods throughout your travels.” She uncovered her hand and displayed the rock she held there. “What do you think?”

  Lucinda let her gaze settle on that item and squared her jaw. “You fool girl,” she spat. “Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said? It would be the most delicious pie you ever ate. It would also be your last. The rock is still a rock, and it would revert to its proper form in your stomach. Do you want to die like that, you stupid girl?”

  With her mouth agape, Adelia just stared at her teacher, unprepared for that treatment. Her face went flush, and as much as she wanted to look away, she couldn’t.

  The sorceress stared and saw that pained expression, and her features softened. She looked past the girl, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “These are my… You didn’t know any better, and it was wrong of me to expect so much of you. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Adelia clamped her lips together and swallowed her embarrassment. She offered up a meager nod before averting her gaze as well.

  “We should head back to the keep,” Lucinda suggested. “I’m sure Gaston has cleared up my other mistake. I’ll let him know you understood the lesson very well.” She didn’t wait for Adelia to agree with that idea, instead turning and heading for the gate.

  She waited just a little while when Lucinda began away, and when she was alone, Adelia tossed the rock to the ground. With that lesson ended as awkwardly as she could imagine, she followed her strange teacher, leaving ample room between them.

  *****

  A book sat beside her on the cushioned seat, but Adelia seemed more concerned with scratching the whiskers beneath Merlin’s chin. When Gaston approached, he wasn’t regarded at first and had to clear his throat to make sure he had been seen. The
girl offered him a quiet smile but returned her attention to the cat.

  “She told me what happened,” the sage said. “She’s certainly an odd one, that Lucinda. All that power at her fingertips, and she’s never been satisfied. She uses her talents for parlor tricks when she could rule a small country. There’s no excuse for what she’s done, but I hope you can forgive her. She’s—”

  “It’s all forgotten, Gaston,” Adelia said. “It was surprising, yes. But it was far better than I had been treated in Viscosa. As I’m learning, all wizards are a little strange.”

  The sage passed her a sidelong glance and a smirk. “So you’re not hiding out here instead of my study because you’re uncomfortable?”

  She shook her head. “I used to spend my days outdoors. But since my parents… It’s nice to have the walls of the keep protecting us. I can still see the clouds and the birds, but I don’t have to worry about being too far from where I feel most safe.”

  “I swear to you, Miss Kreegan, you’ll always be safe here.” He gave a little bow and proceeded around that corridor on the second floor of the keep until he reached his study—and the plump sorceress just outside. “You two have an awful lot in common,” he said. “You both lost your homes.”

  “That’s not exactly a vast list of things to compare between us, Gaston,” she replied. Lucinda spun about, leaning on the banister to see the young lady. “And besides, she’s found a home to replace the old one.”

  “It doesn’t make up for what she’s lost, but it’s all I could offer.”

  “No, you’ve done well, Mister Camlann. Very well indeed.” She stood there, watching in silence as the girl played with the cat. Adelia bore a wide grin and snuggled Merlin close to her. “She’s taken quite a shine to your newest familiar.”

  “Oh, Merlin is no familiar. He’s just a ragged stray that wandered in here when he was a kitten and didn’t have the sense to leave in the last two years. But he’s just as smitten with her. He used to be out all hours of the night, and he’d wake me up from a dead sleep to scratch at my door when he wanted to come back in. With her, though, it’s different. He spends the whole night curled up in bed with her, ready to start the day when Miss Kreegan is.”