Transformation!

by Martin, Deborah

“Wonderful. I have a variety of sandwiches, not knowing what you preferred. Plus crackers, hummus, crudités, and iced tea. All organic, of course.”

  Of course. Things were quiet as we ate, and I really couldn’t complain about the food. It was as good as anything Cassandra brought – and I still wouldn’t have to clean up.

  As we relaxed after eating, Perchaladon sat forward in his chair. “Are you happy in your life?”

  I opened, then closed my mouth. “What sort of a question is that?”

  “An honest one, I think,” he said. “I am very curious. As I have asked before, why do you work for an ogre? And why do I see you at human clubs, not at Club Tread, where you could be yourself?”

  So I was being felt out for something! “I’ve answered the first question before. It’s a good job, I am well compensated, and I enjoy the challenge. As to the second, be myself? I’m always myself, wherever I am.”

  “Perhaps I phrased it incorrectly. At Club Tread, you could use your magical abilities whereas in human clubs, you must keep them under wraps.”

  “It may be different for elves, although I have noticed you have no difficulty showing yourself to the world, but I do not have any difficulty not using my magic, or using it, depending on the situation. Nor do any of my friends. Why do you ask?”

  He leaned forward, in a conspiratorial manner. “There are some of us who are tired of coddling the humans. We feel it is time for them to accept the entire world, not just their limited view of it. That is why I do not glamour myself in public. It is also why others, of my kind, yours, and the were community, do not hide, either.”

  “I don’t hide,” I told him. “I just don’t see a need to advertise.”

  “But you have heard of problems when others advertise, as you phrase it?”

  “Actually, no, not directly. I’ve been told there have been instances of violence but haven’t seen or heard of anything myself.”

  “Allow me to assure you such things have happened. Even here in your beloved, relatively open-minded Twin Cities. It may not have made the news but just last week, a were-bear was ambushed outside a bar in St. Paul by ruffians who did not want his type in their favored establishment. Before he could change to protect himself, they’d damaged him enough to put him in hospital.”

  “And…?”

  “As I said, there are those of us who feel it’s time to come out into the open. Fight back, if necessary.”

  “You’re advocating violence?”

  “It’s not preferred, but if necessary, yes.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “And what am I supposed to do about it? Wear a sign that says, ‘witch’, and hope someone takes offense?”

  “No. Nothing like that. But be seen with me, as I am, in public. With my friends, also as they are, both unglamoured elves and weres. There are weres, you know, who are obviously more than human, without resorting to the change.”

  I did know. Most of the weres I knew, while human in appearance, also had something predatory, or otherworldly, about them. Even if their nature was unknown, people were uncomfortable around them without knowing why. It’s why most weres kept to their own kind, or places like Club Tread. That seemed to be changing, if what he said about the bar in St. Paul was any indication.

  “While I agree with you in some respects, I have no wish to be seen with you, as you put it, and your friends. I like my life just the way it is, thank you. That includes showing, or not showing my magical abilities, according to the situation. Not going out of my way to make people uncomfortable.”

  Perchaladon sighed as he gathered up the remains of the lunch. “I am sorry you feel that way. I had hopes that, as young as you are, you might think differently.”

  “Obviously, you were wrong. And now, it’s time for me to go back to work. Thank you for the lunch. And unless you know something about my boss’s disappearance that you are willing to share, I would prefer we not meet again.”

  Sally opened the door just as I was about to show Perchaladon out. She only raised an eyebrow as she went to her desk, but I knew there would be questions once he left.

  Although I wanted to slam it, I quietly closed the door behind him and turned to Sally. “Well, wasn’t that a surprise?” she said.

  “Yeah. And not a good one. Although, I got a nice lunch out of it.”

  “China, silver, and everything. The man goes in style. I’m assuming, since you’ve already told him to bugger off, that there was something more than just lunch.”

  Cassandra came barreling through the door. “What’d he want?”

  This time, thankfully, I only had to relate the story once. “I’ve heard of the discontent,” Cassandra said. “It’s being discussed, both sides of the subject, quietly, in many circles.”

  “You haven’t said anything to me.” I was somewhat put out.

  “No, because I didn’t think it would affect you. Our mutual friends aren’t involved, and you’re pretty set in your ways, you know. It didn’t sound like anything you’d care about.”

  “Care? Yes. Go out of my way to provoke people like Perchaladon wants? No. I prefer to be who I am all the time and if a difference of opinion arises somewhere, discuss it then. He’s trying to incite adverse reactions publicly. Not my style, nor do I think it’s the best course of action.”

  “I agree with you there. But we have it easier than elves or weres. Unless we do something overt, most people think we’re human. It’s different.”

  I sighed. “I know. And it does bother me. But right now, I’m not so concerned with that as I am sun-watching. Only three to six days and Ev will be back. I can’t wait. And I can’t believe I just said that.”

  Sally laughed. “It will be good to have him back, although I’m getting rather fond of quiet and fresh air. However, I’ll finally be able to stop putting people off. That will be nice.”

  “I’ll leave you two to your subterfuge on Ev’s behalf. I still have a deli to run. See ya!” Cassandra skipped out the door and I heard her trotting down the stairs, even forgetting about the one stair that creaked loudly if you stepped on it too hard.

  Gregory finally got the call from Nelion on Wednesday. We had about twenty-four hours to get to Lake Charles and thence to the spot in the Reserve where we’d let Ev become himself and, quite probably, go on a rampage.

  Because the call was expected, arrangements weren’t quite so hurried this time. I already had my overnight bag packed and Elinda’s large carrier was waiting by the door. Once again, we boarded the private jet, Fudge complaining all the while.

  “If you keep it up, I’ll put a tranquilizer down your throat,” I told him.

  He grumbled but finally quieted down so the plane ride was peaceful, if nerve-wracking for me. Every time I had to fly on one of these things, I seriously considered retiring from my job with Ev, living off my writing royalties.

  Second verse, almost the same as the first. Once in the rental car, Gregory opened the carrier door so Fudge could sit in my lap and look out the windshield. Forty-five minutes later, we pulled up to that same stand of trees where we’d originally found Ev and waited for the elves to show.

  It was almost full dark when a car appeared in the distance. As it closed, the headlights almost blinded us. As if he purposely wanted to scare us, the driver again screeched to a halt just a couple of feet in front of our car. The guards got out first, followed by Nelion and Alberon. Alberon was holding his hand close to his body, obviously cradling something in it.

  “My apologies for the tardiness,” Nelion said to Gregory. “We once again had some younglings to deal with.”

  Gregory nodded in acknowledgement. “How long?” he asked Alberon.

  “A few minutes. No more,” he said as he walked a ways into the grass and very gently let the bat down. Then sat on the ground next to it, in an attitude of complete repose. Me? I was nearly holding my breath and the only thing that kept me from pacing was the thought that I didn’t want to look too anxious in front of
the elves. Instead, my hands clenched and unclenched in my pockets.

  All of a sudden, a large bird quietly swooped down and, ignoring the elf just a pace or two away, picked up the bat in its claws. It quickly flew away, over the stand of trees in front of us. The outcry from everyone was loud.

  “Dinnudac!” came out of both Nelion and Alberon. I assumed it was an elvish curse because both Gregory and I said, “Fuck.”

  “Was that a real owl?” Gregory asked the elves as the guards came running from the cars while Alberon picked himself off the ground and stared off into the distance.

  “I do not believe so,” Nelion answered. “One of the forms Perchaladon favors is a great horned owl. While they are found in this area, a natural owl would avoid all these humanoids.”

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “I removed the masking from Mr. Tremaine’s beacon spell last week,” Alberon answered. “I do not believe they will have time to reapply it if we act quickly.”

  I looked to Gregory, who nodded his head. His eyes went blank for a moment, then, “Approximately a mile west of here, I believe.”

  “That will take some time for us to walk,” I said. “The ground isn’t exactly a running track.”

  “Beyond the trees is also quite swampy ground,” one of the guards added. Nelion fixed him with a stare. The elf simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “I like to go hiking away from the bustle of the enclave.”

  “I can cover that distance in a shorter period of time than you. Follow.”

  “Fudge is going on ahead,” I told everyone else as he sprinted into the trees in a straight line westward.

  The six of us started walking, first wading through the grass then picking our way through the stand of trees, which was probably a couple of football fields in diameter. Beyond the trees, just as the guard said, the ground became squishy, then mucky. Walking slowed as we felt our way on each step, ensuring there was something resembling a solid spot under our foot. In addition, the mosquitoes thickened. Although I didn’t get bit thanks to Gregory’s spray stuff, their whine became an irritant.

  As I picked my way through the mire, I vowed that Ev was going to replace my boots. I’d never be able to get them clean after this.

  “Hurry. There are three elves doing something magical around the bat which would not bode well for your employer.”

  “Fudge has said to hurry,” I told everyone. “And he says there are three elves.”

  Nelion muttered under his breath as we all attempted to pick up our pace, becoming heedless of the mud and gunk splashing our legs – or the noise we were making. There would be no sneaking up on anyone this night.

  About ten minutes later, we were on firmer ground and our pace picked up even more. I jogged next to Gregory in silence, mentally thanking my friends for getting me into shape by riding bikes, alternating with being worried about what we might find when we arrived wherever it was we were going.

  “Veer ten degrees south,” Gregory said just loud enough for everyone to hear. “About a quarter mile, probably in that small clump of trees.”

  I couldn’t see much of anything except the elven bodies in front of me and was surprised Gregory could. Then, as I looked a little harder, I made out a large black shape against a slightly grayer night sky. That must be a clump of trees, I thought.

  The yowl of a spitting-mad cat split the air. “Fudge!” I yelled, uncaring about stealth if my cat was in trouble. I ran even faster, outpacing the guard in front, who managed to catch up and pass me once again.

  As we approached the dark spot, the individual shapes of trees became apparent. And within the trees, the distinct sparkle of magic. We made a beeline toward it.

  The second guard also ran in front of me and the two together crashed into the trees, heedless of noise. I was on their heels and skidded to a halt, Nelion nearly plowing into me.

  The scene in front of us was chaos. The two guards were grappling with two other figures, while on the ground, my cat sat on top of a mound of something desperately trying to escape. A green, sparkling net of magic flew over my head, dropped onto the four fighting figures, and cinched up at their ankles, just like those images you see of fishermen casting a net and drawing it closed. As it closed, the net faded from my sight. Alberon and Nelion walked toward the now-immobile figures.

  Gregory’s flashlight illuminated Fudge and his victim. It was indeed a great horned owl, on its back with Fudge’s claws embedded in its face. Both were breathing heavily.

  “Your bat is on the tree stump behind me. When I attempted to interfere with their spell, this one batted me aside, changed, and tried to fly off. He apparently forgot that cats are quite adept at catching birds, even large ones.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked him as I turned my own flashlight to the tree stump. A bat huddled there, unmoving, the sparkle of Gregory’s beacon spell on its shoulder. Gregory moved next to me, picked the bat up and cradled it in his free hand.

  “I am effectively unharmed. Some talon scratches, which I will be able to heal quickly. This one, however, may be blinded. I think I caught an eye with a claw.”

  Nelion walked over toward us. “Alberon will deal with the others. I will deal with this one. Mister Familiar, if you will please release my son?”

  Fudge retracted his claws and with a growl, walked away to start grooming himself. Nelion cast his own net of magic over the owl which, after a few moments, morphed into Perchaladon, who was quite the worse for wear. His left eye was bleeding profusely, along with various other deep scratches on his face. Fudge had done a number on him. He was no longer the handsomest man I’d ever seen.

  “Although this is a matter for the enclave council, I would ask you now for your reasoning behind kidnapping another paranormal being and casting an illegal transmogrification spell.”

  Perchaladon said nothing, just glared at his father. At the same time, loud grunts came from behind us, where Alberon had effectively hog-tied the other two miscreants, freeing the two guards to stand and do what guards do – guard.

  Nelion motioned Alberon over to where we were standing. “The condition of the bat?” he asked.

  Gregory held out his hand, where the bat cowered, its sides heaving in apparent anxiety. Alberon stared at it.

  “The transmogrification spell has been renewed and it still has the failsafe woven in. Apart from that, it appears unharmed, although frightened. The calming spell I put on a week ago is still in place, although wearing thin. It could fly soon.”

  Gregory sighed. “Can you convince whoever performed the spell on him to reverse it?”

  Nelion also sighed. “We can try. The enclave council will convene tomorrow to try these three. The penalties will be harsh. One can hope that in exchange for some leniency, Obrist will reverse the spell but from what I have seen thus far, it is doubtful.”

  “Then I will take him with us. You will pardon me, Nelion, if I do not wish to entrust him to you again with these three in close proximity to him.”

  “Unfortunately, I must insist on taking the bat with us, at least until after the council meeting. It is evidence. Once the meeting has concluded, it can be returned to you to do with as you see fit.”

  Now that I’d been reassured about Fudge’s condition, I was getting pissed. “Supposedly you’re the most powerful elves in the country. You high and mighty elves with all your natural magic should be able to do something. My boss has been stuck in a bat’s body for almost two weeks.”

  “Amy…” Gregory cautioned.

  “No, Gregory, I’m going to have my say. Now you want to take him as evidence as if he’s nothing but an object,” I continued. “That’s a person in there and you might make a little more effort to return him to himself. Or at least recognize that fact and quit referring to him as ‘it’.”

  “Now see here young lady,” Alberon started.

  “She is correct,” Nelion interrupted him. “We have been unfeeling where her employer is concerned. However,” he addre
ssed me directly, “as has been stated before, the only one who can usually remove such a spell is the one who cast it, regardless of the apparent strength of anyone else. While our magic is natural, as you put it, it is very individualized. Alberon, given time, could unwind it but there is also that failsafe woven in. Hence his reluctance to undo the spell.”

  Shit. I’d forgotten about that. What the hell was so important they’d risk killing Ev?

  “So. Now what?” I tried to keep the blush from my face.

  Nelion eyed us. “I would like to break with precedent. Mr. Tremaine can attest to the beacon spell. Your familiar can attest to the fact that this is, in fact, not a true bat. You would be needed to convey his remarks. Therefore, I would invite you to our enclave until after the council meeting tomorrow.”

  The two guards turned away from their charges and I swore their jaws dropped. I know mine did and Gregory at least opened his eyes about as wide as they could get.

  “Nelion…” Alberon started.

  “No, Alberon, they are necessary to the proceedings. Not that I would permit them to know the exact location. With your permission, Mr. Tremaine, Miss McCollum, one of our guards would drive you in your car with a blindfold spell on you.”

  “No spell,” Gregory said before I could. “Real blindfolds, if you please.”

  “And Fudge?” I asked.

  Nelion considered my cat, who was still sitting about six feet away, finishing getting all the mud off his legs. “Will he, too, wear a covering over his eyes?”

  “Fudge?” I asked.

  “Of course he may blindfold me. I will still know where I am, but you need not tell him that.”

  “He says yes,” I relayed.

  “In that case, may I suggest we make our way back to the vehicles? The guards will have to transport the prisoners first, then come back for us. I can prepare a slight repast while we wait.”

  “I am not walking through that again. You will carry me.” Fudge walked over and hopped into my arms.

  “So I have to slog through the mud carrying an additional fifteen pounds. Thanks a lot.”

  Gregory chuckled. “I take it he doesn’t want to get dirty again?”