Mythic Transformations

by Kris Schnee

  If you had the power, the Lady had said. Your style? But Aldous had no thirst for fighting and no clever strategy. He'd been lucky to say something just imaginative enough for the Lady to take inspiration from it. He hefted the magic sword's slight weight and inspected its blade again. If it really cut through illusions, it was powerful enough for the job, since there was nothing else here.

  Aldous climbed the stairs into the sky, and kicked the front door in. It swung open easily because that was the dramatic thing, perfectly timed to catch the Generous Cloud Lord playing with his latest toys.

  The men of the Company, Aldous' former employers, were dressed as blue and orange chess pieces who stood on a grid like mindless statues. Each face among them was frozen in stupor or slack-jawed amazement. They didn't react to the bang of Aldous' entry or to the gasp of the ever-present courtiers.

  To Aldous, the floating throne room with its tapestries and its walls of silk rope and canvas wasn't beautiful or dazzling. His stomach churned as he looked at his ensnared mentors and fellow travelers. "You got sloppy and accepted some kind of gift, didn't you," he murmured. Indeed they all wore white swords, no two exactly alike.

  The fairy lord stepped down from the tiny cloud he'd been sitting on. He tugged at his silk suit's lapels and strutted around the chessboard, passing behind the spellbound pieces. "You dare return, thief? Do you come to taunt me for taking away the people I meant to 'entertain'? Well, I took your colleagues instead. I convinced them to hunt you down and quickly armed them, before they could think about it. Are you happy I claimed such wicked men? Or outraged?"

  Aldous, sword in hand, circled the board and kept to the opposite side from the Cloud Lord. "Neither."

  "Liar. I taste resentment. Were these people your friends, when you betrayed them?"

  Aldous tried to steady his breathing, to not care that the Company had been good to him and that he'd come to know and respect a few of the senior merchants. It was harder not to care that he was the one who'd gotten them captured instead of the villagers. He focused. "I'm here to kill you."

  "Yet I don't taste anger. Don't be so dull. Give me something to work with, mortal!"

  Aldous glared at him, then forced down his feelings. This creature only wanted to make some interesting little play out of the encounter. He was less worthy of a human's passion than an untidy account book. Aldous circled the chessboard towards the enemy instead of away.

  The false man in the suit chuckled. "Let me help you feel." He snapped his fingers, and every one of the Company men drew their swords. "I was just looking for a worthy opponent. Do you play chess, mortal?"

  Aldous stepped back reflexively. The men he'd betrayed stood with their blades in hand, and half were facing him. There was nothing in their eyes.

  The Cloud Lord said, "Here are the rules of our contest. For every piece you capture --"

  Aldous could take no more. He shouted curses and charged across the board, slashing at the fairy lord to put a stop to his smug dominance over human souls. "I'm not your opponent, your rival or your spurned lover! You're nothing to me!"

  The fairy hopped away, seized an elegant fencing sword from a crystal case, and parried Aldous' blow. "Oh ho, a nihilistic killer? An interesting enough role for... what?" He watched as Aldous' black blade devoured his own with coils of smoke.

  Aldous slashed upward, gashing a wound that bled more smoke along the fairy's arm.

  "Not fair!" said the Cloud Lord. "If you can use such unsportsmanlike sorcery, then let's see if you'll turn it on them!"

  The Company men turned as one and advanced on Aldous, mindlessly jabbing with their swords.

  Aldous felt as though he'd been stabbed with icy needles through his chest already. These were people. Maybe there was some way to rekindle their souls over time. He desperately swatted away their attacks, trying not to hurt them, and darted in and out of the courtiers' crowd. The background fairies parted for him while gasping and protesting and swooning, whichever was to each one's taste. There was no way to reach the Cloud Lord without killing his own people or more likely, being killed. He wanted this nightmare to end, not to be drawn deeper into it.

  He happened to have a sword that could cut through such things.

  Aldous smiled grimly and stabbed the floor, then ran away from the mindlessly pursuing thralls. As he fled he dragged the blade, tearing the fabric and letting air whoosh through the wounds in the dream-palace. The torn edges crackled and burned with black flame.

  The Cloud Lord shrieked as though he'd been punctured himself. "How dare you damage my home!" He tried to find a path to reach Aldous, but already the floor was buckling, springing leaks, losing altitude. If he were lucky it would crash slowly.

  Aldous gashed the walls for good measure, then saw he'd gone too far. The whole place was coming apart! Maybe he'd die, but at least it wouldn't be in the fairy lord's clutches. He grabbed a silk rope and clutched it as the floor parted under him. Everything fell in slow motion: tapestries, men, fairies, a rain of jewels.

  Aldous hit the ground with a thump, bruised but unbroken. Dread gripped him when he stood and no one else did. Beautiful debris fell all around him. He went over to one of the fallen Company men and shook him, to no effect.

  One figure crawled out of a mass of canvas and silk, brass and solidified cloud. It was the Generous Cloud Lord himself, his clothes torn and steam leaking from cuts all over him. "You broke my toys!" he shrieked like a kettle.

  Aldous picked up his fallen sword and stepped closer.

  The false man stamped his feet. "I hate you! You can follow the drifting smoke back to your boring mortal lands, but you won't escape my wrath forever. You are my sworn enemy, do you hear?"

  Aldous rushed forward and stabbed the Cloud Lord through the chest, making the fairy lord gasp, collapse, and burst into steam that seared Aldous' skin. Aldous staggered back, alone again on the field of wreckage. Whatever fairy henchmen had survived in the other floating balloons that still hung overhead, chose not to get involved.

  Thick smoke from the burned throne room made a convenient trail that would likely remain until it was no longer relevant to anyone. Aldous sheathed his sword and shook his head. The Company men were dead. Since the Cloud Lord had declared Aldous a foe and given him an "accidental" hint on how to get home, the fairy was probably going to resurrect himself as soon as Aldous walked away. It might not even be possible to kill such creatures completely, only to feed their pointless power struggles.

  Well. That didn't matter. It wasn't his place to change the entire evil game of the madlands' alien rulers. Instead he could save the lives of the villagers, and maybe find a quiet life among them.

  He looked at the solid marble buildings that held the remaining slaves. Aldous turned away, shaking his head. Even if fairy magic did nothing to keep their bodies trapped here, it wouldn't be possible to rescue their hearts. They had chosen to live in a beautiful larder.

  Aldous searched the ruins and looted various dream-spun trinkets before walking back to the tower of the Lady of Coins.

  * * *

  He reached it after a journey: an experience of hiking and cold and the sounds of distant wolves, not a specific length of time. The sun flew too wildly to judge directions by it, but the smoke was always visible to him. The shining tower of coins and its guards welcomed him in.

  There, he found the villagers still alive and sane, full of questions. Aldous let out a sigh of relief, accepted some hugs, and then went to the Lady to report. "I have slain the Generous Cloud Lord, at least as much as it's in my power to do with a sword." He explained how he'd done it.

  The Lady applauded. Her throne was a tremendous ruby this time. "And you tore up his balloon! I'd been wanting to kill him for quite some time. He stole my favorite horse, you know, after I seduced his child, after --"

  "Spare me. I've done what you asked. Will you let us go?"

  "Of course! I am a woman of my word. You and yours may relax for the night and leave tomor
row, again without any danger. And as I promised, I will have someone guide you home."

  Aldous' gaze slipped to one side, to notice the plume of smoke that still hung in the sky. "Actually, I know the way already."

  She looked over her shoulder and smiled. "So you do. That bastard has upstaged me. I shall have to pay him back. Because my promise of guidance is no longer useful to you, I choose to amend it." She leaned back on her throne and gave him a feline smile. "Name a boon, mortal. If it amuses me enough, I will grant it."

  He wanted no more part of these games, but he had no choice about that either. He said, "Your rival swore that I was his enemy now."

  "Did he? What an honor!"

  "I want protection against him, for myself and these villagers."

  She waved him off. "Oh, your peasants will be fine. They won't interest him. They wanted nothing more in my domain than warmth and safety, like frightened animals. Why, it was as though they were afraid to accept more! As for you, hmm." She snapped her fingers and a courtier brought a glass of wine atop a pillow. "Drink this, the freely given wine of the fair folk, and you will have the power to fend off your enemies."

  He had no doubt that the gift had some bit of intrigue attached, even if it couldn't trap him here to have his soul eaten. Still, he was enmeshed in the fairies' stories, the honored guest of one and the enemy of another. They would likely find ways to toy with him however far he ran from their domain. The only chance to survive was to learn their games well enough to play or defy them. He looked at the wine. "What does this do?"

  "I sincerely don't know." As a creature that fed on human thoughts and feelings, the Lady of Coins had mighty magic but could give it no specific form except in echo of what mortals provided.

  Aldous drank. The glass cut his lip. The wine was sweet and rich beyond any human art and was tainted by a drop of his own blood, giving it a hint of iron. As soon as he'd drained it, the cup fell from his hand and he collapsed into fitful dreams.

  * * *

  Aldous found himself atop a horse made of ivory, trotting at the head of a crowd of warmly-dressed refugees. They were following the black smoke to guide them through the madlands, back to where reality made sense again and their deserted village was hopefully waiting. This particular bit of insane geography was the canopy of a frozen forest, so thick that it was almost impossible to fall through the icy branches to the red, glowing eyes and teeth that flashed in the darkness beneath them.

  Aldous startled awake. "How? When...?"

  The village elder said, "You met us at the gate in the morning, sir. You didn't seem quite yourself. I feared she'd taken your mind after all."

  "She didn't, I think. It was the wine. Is everyone all right?"

  The old man nodded, hobbling along beside Aldous. "You can have a home with us, when we return. You may have helped capture us in the first place, but I suppose you're no longer a friend of the Company."

  Aldous grimaced. He'd made mortal enemies among his own kind as well. "I should stay and make sure you won't be raided by slavers again. For now, why don't you take my horse? You need one more than me."

  Mist swirled in the space between them, and another splendid white horse congealed from vapor, already saddled.

  Everyone stopped. Aldous stared at it. Then, afraid to speak the words, he added, "We should all ride."

  A herd of fine white horses appeared, as beautiful as any phantasm conjured by the fairy folk.

  The elder shivered despite his fur cloak. "Welcome to their game, I suppose."

  Aldous looked at the horses he'd made from a thought, then to the sky. Drifting there was the plume of smoke he'd caused by slaying the Cloud Lord, however temporarily. The sword Aldous had inspired still hung on his belt. When he held up one palm and thought of gold, his hand filled with glinting coins that spilled through his fingers, tumbled to the branches below, and were lost to sight. This new power was awesome, enchanting, and terrific. He was very glad to feel only the sort of hunger that could be sated with bread.

  He thought back to his training with the Company, which had taught him what he needed to survive in these lands at the cost of making him consort with slave-traders. The gifts of the fairies had their own price. "The Lady of Coins and the Cloud Lord aren't done with me," he said.

  "Likely not."

  Aldous took the reins of his horse again. "Well, then. Let's get home to our own territory, and defend it. We may have to play their game, but I'll play it my way."

  In Glass

  If you combined a knight with a stone, would you get a warrior with armored skin or a screaming mad half-statue? Lady Oya of the sandstone city of Alhambra hadn't tried that particular experiment yet, but it was a useful thing to plan for once her work was more successful. She frowned at the scrolls that covered her desk and the office walls. On them were a thicket of equations and arrows and spirals. So far she'd been quite successful at performing small fusions such as mergers of different types of rock, or flowers and feathers. The tests on living subjects had been interesting but rather less impressive. Unfortunately, her sponsors in the Merchants' Guild were growing impatient for something they could sell.

  "We have a visitor," said Silverhand. His metal fist was ungloved and twitching.

  Oya raised her head from the desk. "More clerks here for a tour?"

  "Just a boy. He wants to see you."

  Oya grumbled, but stood. She needed a diversion from the work. The massive fuser, a device like an iron pair of scales, filled half the room. She made her way around the variety of fragrant crates, sacks, and cages that cluttered most of the rest, and descended the stone stairs to the facility's front door.

  A young man slouched there, blinking, enveloped in a sharp chemical smell. "You're the one who puts things together?" he said.

  She nodded, amused. "Essentially."

  The visitor leaned forward to say, "Then fix me!"

  She decided that she had absolutely no ability to concentrate on her work today. That that was why she agreed to let him into the laboratory. She had the staff bring him food, then watched him tear into the hot bread like he'd eaten nothing all day.

  "My name is Cambio," he said. "I came to Alhambra to find work. I went into a glassmaker's shop expecting to see furnaces and bottles, but it was so much more than that. The place was full of lights! So colorful, so beautiful. They had a half-built window mounted sideways like a table, with candles underneath. There were colors shining through it and dancing, always changing in the firelight. It was a work in progress for the cathedral, the image of blessed Saint Eva."

  Oya nodded. "There are a lot of people working on the construction." The city had finally gotten the saint's bones back and needed a suitable place to house them for God's glory.

  "This window was like a miracle in its own right. So I begged to work there as an apprentice and help them, but the master said no."

  "Why?"

  Cambio held up his hands. They trembled. "This happens often. Bad, today. He said I'm not fit for delicate work. Instead I got a job in a leather tannery and I've been working there for a week." He wrinkled his nose, obviously thinking of the stench that still clung to him. "Help me. I want to make beautiful things, not saddles and jackets."

  Oya thought of the people she'd used for her experiments so far. Some were convicts seeking a pardon. Some were dying from age and disease and would do anything for a chance at a cure. This boy only wanted steady hands, not a drastic change. "The risk is too high."

  "To do something worthwhile? If you'd seen that miracle of glass, you'd understand. The world needs more of that. I can see more amazing designs, in my mind, but I can never make them!"

  She thought of the problem in clinical terms, of how she might give him what he wanted. But the why of his interest was more important than the how. This boy wanted to change the world through cleverness and careful effort. She could appreciate that. She'd been an apprentice accountant once, urged to do what she was decent at even if it weighed
down her heart like lead.

  "Come upstairs," she said.

  Cambio needed stability. What could cause that effect when mixed with a human? Oya eyed the countless boxes of supplies, and the vast desk with her spiraling charts of known combinations. Perhaps a stone? Her hand clutched the desk as she remembered her nightmares. No, an animate material worked best for this simple problem. Cambio followed her to the boxes, where she selected a fresh-scented, sturdy pine branch.

  She turned to find Cambio running his hands along the slick black machine and the crystalline slider at its center. He looked up expectantly. "Can you do it?"

  "Stand in one of the balance trays," she said, setting the branch in the other half of the giant pair of scales. "Good. Ten percent of the branch, I believe..." She set the slider and fell silent, pushing a dozen jeweled markers around in a spiral diagram at the center. Stability was the trait to modify, not substance, not mind. She'd learned how to distinguish the different aspects the fuser could affect. The learning had been costly, and she rarely could change just one feature without affecting any others. She locked the markers, then said without looking at the boy: "You're certain?"

  Cambio nodded, so she threw the switch.

  As always, the swirls of light burned through her eyelids, seeming to come from a direction that didn't exist. The machine hissed and hummed but didn't move. Cambio didn't move either, and Oya's throat caught as she hurried to his side.

  After a long pause, Cambio said, "I'm fine. Better."

  It was true. The boy stood straight and tall, with steady hands. With one finger he traced the faint grain lines that ran like tattoos all along the skin of his hands and arms. Wood-like, yet still flesh. Improved. On the other half of the scales, the branch was gone.