Perspective Flip

by Kris Schnee

  "At least it's almost done." She leaned out of the hut to look down at her reflection. The muzzle that looked back wasn't quite fully transformed yet, but was no longer human. Dane's own family probably wouldn't have recognized this otterfolk girl with the badly-fitting clothes and the bewildered expression. Dane touched her cheek with one webbed hand.

  She was hungry, too, and had no money. What was she supposed to do for cash? There was no quartermaster to hand over the King's money to obedient sailors; she'd worked only for room and board at the inn; and she hadn't even known how to discuss pay with the shaman. Dane was totally cut off from any clear way to make a living. She slapped the water in frustration. It wasn't just her transformation that was a problem, but the entire bigger picture of how to live now that there was no immediate threat of dying!

  Maybe Dane could at least catch lunch? That ought to be easy. She struggled to climb out of the floating hut and ended up spilling directly onto the beach. From there she staggered into deeper water until she could float and duck her head under the waves.

  * * *

  Down there, the world was quiet and cool. The ocean flowed along her fur, making it ripple with trapped bubbles. Her ears felt like they'd plugged up and her vision was almost as clear as it had been on land. Instinctively she wriggled her whole body, head to tail, and darted forward from the beach. The sea seemed to move aside for her so that she sliced right through, turning easily and flipping around in a flexible coil. Something moved in the corner of Dane's vision and she whipped around to snag it, then realized it was her own tailtip. A little fish stood out in the distant water too. Dane surged after it but the creature darted away.

  Dane kept going. If she could just catch some lunch on her own, she could feed herself and then, well, figure the rest out later. She had this fancy tail and everything, built for the sea. She surfaced to breathe, just sticking her mouth and nose out of the waves, then ducked back under without thinking about how she'd moved so easily. The fish was just out of reach, glittering with scales like copper. Dane crashed into a sandbar that reached nearly to the surface, spat out sand, and wriggled as hard as she could after her quarry. It kept out of her reach until the moment when she finally got a chance to snag it in her webbed paws — and then it whipped right out of them and changed direction, throwing Dane off balance.

  She surfaced again on the sandbar and breathed, then coughed and cursed. "Why is this so hard? I'm an otter!"

  "Really?" said a fuzzy man in a little boat. He had the oars; the other otter with him held a spear.

  "A nice one at that," the spearman said. "What's your name?"

  Dane looked around. She was alarmingly far out to sea, and only the distant beach and a few native boats were in sight. The spear fisher looked familiar. "Arn?" she said.

  His ears perked up. "Wait a minute; you're... ah, the one I met the other day?"

  Dane nodded.

  The rower said something Dane didn't understand, and the otters laughed. Arn answered in the same tongue, then asked Dane, "How have you been?"

  "Alive. Thank you, for what you did."

  Arn smiled. "It was a poke in the eye to the Empire. Don't go around boasting about what you were, though."

  Dane should never even admit to being born human, while there was any chance of being identified. The safest thing was to claim to be a native, but she'd be the least articulate, most ignorant one around. The alternative was to invent a false story about being a shipwrecked merchant or otter-obsessed tourist, and Dane hadn't had much chance to come up with such a tale. She didn't fit. Dane sat there on the sand, submerged up to her chest, and sighed. "Teach me to fish."

  Arn looked confused. "Swimming around snagging snacks? Catching one fish is just a game, or child's play. If you want a steady supply of fish, you call on a fisherman." He held up a dripping net full of fish. Dane's eyes widened at how strong he had to be to lift the thing one-handed.

  Dane said, "Well then, maybe I should be a fisher."

  "Aren't you a shaman, or whatever you call it?"

  "I'm studying with Rapanui, and I barely understand her. I don't know if she's even going to pay me. I have a box for a house." Dane slapped the water with her hands. "If you could show me how to gather fish, I can be sure of eating, at least."

  Arn spoke to the other native, who joined him in looking uncomfortable. Arn said, "Running a fishing boat is men's work. It's not for you, not now."

  "Oh, come on! I heard some of you men used to have these yourself!" Dane hefted her breasts.

  Arn's friend elbowed him, and he blushed. "Look... What name are you using now, anyway?"

  Dane paused, open-mouthed. Keeping her name was a bad idea, but she hadn't picked another. Was there anything she didn't have to throw away? "I don't know. The same one for now."

  "Miss Same-One, you're not going to be a fisher. But if you like, I could teach you hunting the old way, just hands and teeth versus a fish."

  That would be a useful skill, anyway. She nodded.

  Arn stepped off of the boat and spun in the water, wearing little more than his scruffy fur. He circled around Dane, deftly avoiding the sandbar, then surfaced and grinned. "Hey, toss one!" he called at the boat. The other fisher threw one of their dead, caught fish at his face. Arn parried it and laughed. "Well, Same-One? Let's see your style. Grab it!"

  Dane swam toward the still target and snagged the fish in her claws. Arn said, "Use the whole hand. The webbing." He threw the fish farther off. Dane went through this a few more times. Arn said, "Better, but you're kicking your feet like a human half the time. Swim right." He demonstrated, first with the awkward paddling Dane was used to, then suddenly becoming a smooth wave slicing through the water. Fur and muscle coiled powerfully back and forth.

  Dane tried to imitate that, feeling the water flowing smoothly along her. When a silvery fish glinted nearby, Arn pointed and Dane dashed toward it. The otter-man swam faster in a loop that cut off the prey's retreat, driving it back toward Dane. Dane flailed, snatched, got slapped in the nose by a fin, and after a few seconds yanked the fish up from the water and held it out in triumph. Arn was grinning at her, swimming back over to rub her shoulder and say, "Nice." Yes, it was. Dane gave a rumbling purr.

  They swam toward the boat again. Arn's companion called out something that made Arn's ear linings redden. He barked something back.

  "What?" said Dane.

  "He's jealous, that's what. Look..." He reached into the boat and pulled out a few copper coins. "This should get your fish gutted and cooked for you at the Crown and Tail, and another decent meal besides. I don't have much, and I need to get back to work, but if you want to meet late tomorrow that'd be... I'd like that."

  Dane stared at the money, then up at Arn's face. The offer of help meant potentially much more. Had this man been hoping all along to get Dane transformed, then to get into her pants? No, that wasn't fair. He had his own motives, including yanking the Empire's tail by rescuing a deserter, and maybe just plain helping someone in need.

  Arn saw Dane's hesitation. His ears flicked and his whiskers drooped.

  Dane took the coins, unable to bear that expression. "Thank you. I'm living next to Rapanui's house."

  * 4. *

  Kirani was on duty at the Crown and Tail. "Caught it yourself? Give me that; I'll cook it for free."

  "I had some help," Dane said, and mentioned the lesson.

  They stood together in the kitchen. Dane insisted on cleaning some dishes while Kirani chopped fish. Kirani smiled. "So that's twice he's rescued you, eh? That's a good start. But don't sell yourself cheaply."

  "Excuse me!" said Dane, reddening.

  "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. He was just trying to be friendly, I bet. I meant, there's no shortage of men around."

  "Unne says she's mentioned this to you," Dane said.

  "Don't get me started. Maybe I don't want to get busy making kits just because there're a lot of lonely males. The uprising wrecked ev
erything."

  The sliced fish sizzled on the grill along with some onions and breadfruit, making savory smells. Outside the kitchen, customers of two species mingled and drank. Dane said, "It's not that bad here, is it?"

  Kirani sighed. "No. But we went from thinking we ruled the world, to learning our 'world' is just a backwater in somebody else's Empire. I guess that's not quite true; there was a shipwreck from somewhere near your lands over a century ago. That's where the transformation spell came from and why your language isn't total gibberish to us." She dished out the fish and added some of the other stuff for Dane. "What do you think makes humans better than us?"

  "Better?" Dane took the plate but hesitated to answer. "I feel dumber, less competent. But that's probably because I have no idea what I'm doing."

  "Makes sense."

  "Besides that, I don't know. Maybe your people got a late start somehow, or didn't think to explore like my people did."

  Kirani shrugged. "There's a school, at least. We can learn to be like humans, for whatever that's worth."

  Dane said, "What am I supposed to do for a living? I can't live on catching a fish here and there, and I'm not allowed to be a sailor or fisher."

  "What about Rapanui? Just be patient at learning the language. You've got the talent. Shouldn't you be going back to work?"

  "Probably." Dane scarfed down the hot fish, coughed on it and fanned her muzzle. Kirani smacked her on the back. "Thanks. It's really good."

  "Then that's something we do best: appreciate fish. Now go work at spellcraft."

  * * *

  A few days passed. Dane had changed fully by now, but trying to master the shaman's language and learn local magic at the same time was more taxing than the last physical changes to her ears and muzzle. Dane and Rapanui fumbled through their conversations, trying to find the right words, and Dane took every chance to ask Kirani or Unne for what some obscure term meant. Dane still wasn't making money, though. Until Dane could make herself more useful she was just treading water, living on whatever fish she could catch or leftovers from Rapanui's cooking or the inn. As for Arn, he'd visited and they'd shared an awkward swim along the coast, talking about the islands and practicing native speech. He went home after dinner, leaving Dane wondering if her future ought to include him.

  The next morning, Dane discovered a shirt tucked into one of the connecting rods of her clam-like hut. There was a scrap of paper with her name crudely printed on it, too. A gift! It was just a naval standard-issue long white shirt, in a large size and good condition. Arn must've bought it so that she'd have something to wear besides the battered, dirty remains of her uniform. Imported clothes, even something as simple as this, were a significant investment. An investment in her, on an island chain where women were in demand.

  Dane stomped the sand. Why did everything have to revolve around this new body? She sighed; that was her interpretation. She could treat the fisherman as another friend, like Kirani had become. Not that Arn was expecting just friendship; he was courting her and they both knew it. Dane hadn't even bought Kirani any gifts before getting to share a bed with her. Dane flopped back down into her bare-walled hut and clutched the shirt. Arn had been thoughtful enough to get a loose size that she could wear without feeling like she was about to burst out of it (or maybe that was the only size available), and he'd gotten an Imperial style rather than pushing her to start dressing like Kirani in a grass skirt and nothing else. The fact that he wasn't pushing her was... nice.

  Rapanui called out from the hut nearby. "Come work!"

  Dane threw on the new shirt over the old and hurried to earn her keep for the day.

  * * *

  That sunset, Dane was sitting in her hut, idly practicing a bit of spellcraft that sent a ball of water bouncing back and forth. Her fur was matted; she'd have to ask someone how she was supposed to take care of it. Dane dropped the spell and rolled over limply, looking down into her unfamiliar reflection. She'd unwillingly given up a potential career in wizardry in the Empire, but that was a world away now. She was stuck in a country she didn't understand, that was divided by race, where every meal and tool and spell had some exotic aspect to remind her she wasn't home.

  Ugh. "Exotic". She'd heard that word at the Crown and Tail, being used by a human traveler his friend called Rudyard. From what Dane had overheard, some of the humans figured the natives were "half devil and half child", needing guidance by the Empire for their own good. Preferably sexy guidance. Dane blushed at the fact that she'd managed to bed one of the natives so quickly, since the foreigner was telling his friend that all the native women and some of the men were eager for that. Kirani smiled and flirted with the humans just the same as if they'd been respectful.

  "How do you do it, Kirani?" Dane asked when they both had a free minute.

  "I just think of the money we're making off them. The Crown and Tail is a place for cooperation, Dane. If we get to know each other well enough, maybe they'll quit being idiots about us."

  "I guess I was an idiot, huh?" Dane said.

  Kirani grinned. "You've gotten better. Why, you haven't even stared at my breasts lately."

  "Don't remind me."

  "How about we catch two fish with one spear? I'll go boating with one of Unne's lineup of lonely fishers and invite along you and that Arn guy. Will that make you feel better?"

  Dane wasn't sure what to make of that. It'd feel... safer, touring the islands in a foursome rather than just being with one man. Less of a committment.

  Before she could answer, there was a commotion outside. Kirani and Dane ran to the door and called out to somebody running by. That native told them, "Shipwreck! Big ship west at the Ilara sea-cliff!"

  Dane pictured a hull cracking in half and dumping men to the bottom of the sea, or onto bare rocks. "We've got to help," she told Kirani. Some of the inn's customers peeked over their shoulders or pushed past them.

  "Isn't it too late if they're over there?"

  "Only one way to find out."

  Kirani pulled Dane back into the inn, where Unne was napping. "Unne! Shipwreck!"

  The older otter snapped awake. "What? One of theirs?"

  "Sounded like it," said Dane. "Is there a boat I can borrow?"

  Unne stared at Dane, then laughed bitterly. "You want to go help? Swim there."

  Kirani looked puzzled too. "Why would you want one? It's not like you're carrying anything."

  Otters. "Fine. I'm going."

  Kirani said, "I'll come along."

  Unne grabbed her by the tail. "I need you here."

  Dane watched a silent argument play out in the two natives' expressions. She despaired of ever figuring out what these people really wanted. But why would she assume that "the people" agreed on the best future for their islands?

  That didn't matter right now. Dane hurried outside alone.

  A party of humans were dragging a beached rowboat into the sea. Some looked drunk, others frightened. The low sun gave the water a bloody look. Dane went up to them to push, but couldn't contribute much force.

  "This is our business," one of the men said.

  "I'm a mage."

  The humans, too, squabbled over how to react. "Fine," one of them said. "We're wasting time. Get in."

  * * *

  Dane wasn't sure the rowboat was any faster than she could've swam back to Ilara Island where she'd first washed ashore, but at least the trip wasn't tiring for her. They passed the Governor's mansion and came into sight of this island's main dock. A mile or so away, one of the King's ships lay at a terrifying angle. The rowers shouted and cursed. Dane wasn't pulling oars; she had her hands in the water, creating a current to push them along. The water glowed faint green at her use of magic. The sea beneath the ship shined too, to Dane's magic-sense. It had gotten caught up in the sea-cliff's power, probably by a navigation error or a careless officer.

  She wasn't completely sure the mighty three-masted ship had nearly crashed off a cliff by accident.

  T
heirs wasn't the only boatload of humans approaching. There were already vessels outside the ring of water, straining with ropes and oars to haul the ship away from danger. Some looked like the ship's own boats and crew, but there were men in all states of dress and undress, and a fancy trading ship was weighing anchor to join the more quick-starting rowboats. What Dane didn't see were natives rushing to help. There was, on second glance, one other fuzzy head visible in the distance, but otherwise the locals weren't lifting a claw.

  There'd been no question in Dane's mind that she had to rush to the navy ship's aid. She questioned that now. Still, the rowboat she was riding was close enough now that she saw the ship tilted crazily far over the frothing waterfall, roughly bow-first. Crew smashed open a hole in their own hull with axes and shoved a cannon out. It fell through open air and crashed far below, along with a screaming man. Men bellowed orders inside; it sounded like their own little hell. The rowers with Dane tried to get their attention and set up another towing rope, but confusion reigned.

  Dane jumped overboard. She'd been to the sea-cliff before, with merely human swimming ability. Now the bright water seemed to welcome her. The upper current was starting to pull her toward the waterfall even at this long range, so she tried diving and found she could easily get down to the point where the roiling water turned and started driving her backward. She surfaced to conserve her strength, then darted low again, easily breaking through to the bare seabed. She fell a short distance and rolled on the rocks. Dane stood, slightly battered, then stared up at the ship that hung halfway over the western cliff. What remained of the sunlight filtered through the water, turning it deep red.

  Dane wasn't an expert mage, but she was a former navy caskman and she'd trained with the natives. Between the two, she had an idea. Dane planted her feet firmly, took a deep breath, and with thoughts and gestures began to pull water over the east cliff, down at her head. The current there ran toward the cliff anyway, so it was easy to draw several tons of water over the edge. The entire sky blotted out as though she'd just sealed the roof of a cave. Dane felt vertigo as though she were falling upward into the sea. She cried out, but kept pulling water down... until the moment when it began to sprinkle her face. Then she let go of her spell.