Part 3 of Dominion of the Hyacinth!
---------
Jessica spent most of her day in the small workroom in their quarters
practicing her spells. She was fascinated by the idea of using the
Curse as a defensive measure. But in order to use it effectively she
needed to be able to craft the web of interlocking charms quicker
than it took to breathe. Her previous spells had always taken almost
a minute or more to put together but when somebody was trying to kill
her a minute was fifty-nine seconds more than she had to protect herself.
The hawk discovered that through repetition that she could bring the
spells together more quickly, but never quickly enough. It wasn't
until late in the afternoon, not long before Weyden and his fellow
soldiers would return from their patrol, that she had the insight
that made it work. The weaving of spells required bringing together
several disparate strands in a complicated pattern. If she knew the
pattern she wished to impose before hand, she could prepare spells
that copied the pattern for her onto the weave of magic. By doing
this, she could spend several minutes preparing her spells and
binding them to some talisman, and then activate them whenever she
needed to use them.
Enchanting talismans was inordinately difficult without real hands
which was the main reason she had never spent much time studying the
art. She knew the basics though and decided to focus on a single type
of transformation. The magical weave collapsed several times before
she felt she had determined the right steps, but by the time her
husband returned home that evening, she had bound a series of spells
to a single talisman, in this case a small topaz framed with a metal
hook she could wrap about her wing-claws. The only challenge now was
to test it.
As the door to their quarters at the Twin Hearth's Inn opened and the
melodic voice of her husband squawked, "My sweet hawk, I have
returned!" Jessica set the small topaz on her small desk and left the
work room, the scent of spiced and salted meat striking her as she
did. Standing just in the doorway was her husband, his feathers
ruffled beneath the sash he bore to mark him as a soldier of Metamor,
with a small paper wrapped bundle whose aroma made her talons dig
into the floor.
"It smells wonderful, thank you, my love," she cried, wrapping one
wing around her husband and nuzzling his cheek with the tip of her
beak. He trembled a moment and then returned the gesture, firm and
tender as his hooked beak straightened her black feathers. He grasped
the door with one leg and pushed it closed as they stepped deeper
into the room, the wrapped jerky pressed between their chests.
The two hawks groomed each other with unrestrained affection for
several minutes more before they finally settled down in the corner
of their main room nearest the hearth where they had arranged a set
of hard, wooden perches with heavy stone bases to keep them from
tipping over. Weyden removed the jerky and offered her a thick slice.
They lowered their beaks in prayer before a small statue of Kammaloth
they'd placed atop the hearth, and then they ravenously tore into the
jerky. They held each piece in their talons, and bent over double as
they ripped portions free with their beak, only to tilt their heads
back and gulp the morsels down after a few seconds of tenderizing and
savoring the smoky flavor.
Jessica admired her husband as he ate, adoring his strong wings,
curved talons, beautiful red plumage, and vibrant gold eyes. But
where he would always appraise her with a sly confidence, now he
seemed diffident, as if there were some great weight bearing him
down. She well recalled how distraught and conflicted he'd been when
he learned his master Yonson was performing an evil ceremony. There
was something of this anxiousness in his demeanor now and it upset her.
She swallowed the last of her jerky and folder her wings behind her
back. "Is something wrong, Weyden? You're here, but your soul is
troubled. I can see it in your eyes and feathers."
Weyden ducked his head and swallowed another bite of jerky. The last
of it he lifted with his talon, balancing with ease on one leg, but
he did not lower his beak to snatch it. "I have just been thinking
quite a lot."
"What about?"
"About..." his voice faded for a moment as he seemed to stare past
her even as his eyes remained fixed on her. "About... children. We
haven't talked about that yet."
Jessica nodded though she felt as if a part of her was cringing and
grasping at the same time. "Nay, we have not. There has been so much
else, but... what is there to say? Do you not wish to be a father?"
"I do," Weyden replied with a quick nod of his head. "I just
feared... how are we to raise them properly if we both serve on
patrol all the time. It is not how things are done in my homeland,
and from what others have said, it is not how things are done even
here with the Curses."
There was no reason to argue because he was right. Jessica could see
that in a moment. Were they to have children one of them would always
need to be there to watch over them, to teach them, to feed them, and
to help them as they grew. Children demanded not just one sacrifice,
but many sacrifices repeated day after day and through night after
night. How would she maintain her research into the Curses if she
could not practice amongst the people or tend the hyacinth and the
other she meant to plant in the months ahead once she could harvest
the bulbs? Weyden could stay home with the children, but men were
rarely suited to that sort of work. Was that what he feared, that he
would not be able to care for them as they should be?
"That is true. But we will find a way when the time comes. There may
be something we can do to make sure our children are cared for
properly. Maud and Larrsen will face a similar choice one day."
"And Maud has already said she will step aside to care for the
children," Weyden replied with a bob of his head. "It is odd, I knew
Maud for several years before we came to Metamor. It is hard to
remember she was once a man now. I just... maybe if you would take
the place you've been offered in the Guild you could stay here and
still practice your magic."
She felt an intense loathing for the idea but kept it deep within her
mind. The little meerkat child Kuna had not been the only one among
the Mage Guild to inquire after her ability with the Curses. She had
rebuffed all requests so far, though she had not used her ability on
any other mages as they had not been alone at the time. They also
hoped she would take on apprentices and teach them much as Wessex had
once taught her. One day she would, but for now her studies were far
more important for her sake and for the sake of Metamor.
But there was something else that bothered her with the notion of
being involved in the Mage Guild. Were she to participate she would
enjoy their camaraderie it was true, but she would also be subject to
their rules and their governance, and she found the idea of
submitting her will to another to be distasteful. Working on the
patrols with her husband at her side was one thing as it gave her
ample opportunity to experiment and expand her knowledge and her
skills. Teaching students to conjure flames and lift feathers would
not hone her art, and the strictures of the Guild would force her to
share the powers she had mastered. This she would not do.
"Weyden, my love, I know you want the best for us and for our
children. But there are many answers better than the Guild. For one,
the Fellowship will help us at first. Our children will hatch from
eggs! It is a wonder to know that!"
Weyden nodded and his eyes took on a warm light. "Aye, it is a wonder!"
"Let me think on this some," Jessica suggested, extending her wing to
brush against his own. "We do not have to decide right away. Now put
this worry aside and tell me of your day."
----------
It was not long after that they moved from the main room to the small
room in which they slept. Not being able to use a bad like their
mammalian and reptilian counterparts, they opted for a round wooden
frame in which numerous straw-filled cushions had been arranged. A
dozen pillows accented the cushioning, while a very smooth and
inexpensive pair of cloth sheets draped over the top to help keep
them warm during the cold Metamorian nights. It was inevitable that
their talons would rend those sheets to shreds, but as long as they
slept with their feet pointing down it wouldn't happen often.
She could always have used a spell to keep them warm, but Wessex had
always taught her that if there was a mundane way that was just as
easy it was always best to use the mundane way.
Still, when it came to making sure her husband was asleep, a simple
spell was ideal.
Jessica slipped out from beneath the sheet once she was sure Weyden
had settled into a deep sleep. He would have pleasant dreams and wake
fully refreshed in the morning. Until then Jessica could act. After
reclaiming the enchanted topaz she left their quarters by the
balcony. It was already night and lamps were lit throughout
Keeptowne, making the streets look like a golden cobweb. She glided
from balcony to the nearest roof, her talons grasping at the wooden
beams and stone protrusions holding the roof aloft as her large wings
beat through the air.
She navigated this way toward the southern section of Keeptowne where
there would be more foreign merchants and more taverns to sate their
appetites. Jessica selected a tavern that she knew had a reputation
for causing the Watch some trouble and perched on a heavy arch
overlooking the alley and the narrow street outside its doors. Poor
music came through the windows, but it was only barely audible over
the raucous laughter, shouts for more beer, and deprecations about
the genealogy of Keepers. Perched so close she couldn't help but
inhale the stink of ale, vomit, and piss. Jessica buried her beak
into her feathers and preened herself just to relieve herself. It was
best not to use excess magic until she was ready.
While she waited she pondered anew the question that her husband had
raised. She wasn't sure what the right thing to do was yet, but she
was sure that Weyden would consent to any decision she made. He was
always so receptive to her initiative.
Jessica did not think up an answer and decided it was best to wait
for now. The tavern saw a regular stream of people going in and out.
Some were Keepers who looked haggard and weary after a long day's
work, while others were foreign merchants interested in finding the
exotic underbelly of Keeptowne. She even saw a trio of brightly
dressed Keepers fawning over the foreign men and inviting them for
trysts of a most loathsome sort; they were probably the sexually
degenerate Sensates she had seen from time to time. She was awfully
tempted to construct some other spell to bring an end to their
scandalous deeds, but that would draw too much attention to herself.
She needed privacy if she was going to test her enchantment properly.
It took almost three hours before she finally saw what she had hoped
for. As the night wore on the narrow street saw fewer people moving
about until it became quiet except for the noise from the tavern and
the others nearby. Most of the townsfolk were asleep in their beds
except for the soldiers on duty and the practitioners of unsavory
trades and their clients. And most of the tavern patrons left in twos
or threes. It wasn't until the night grew very dark that a single man
stumbled out the door, singing a raunchy ballad to himself. Jessica
stretched her wings as he loosened his trousers to take a piss on the
tavern wall.
She glided to the alley and dug her talons at the slick stones
beneath her. She extended her wing claws and brought the enchanted
topaz out of its hiding place in her feathers. The man turned a
leering expression toward her and then frowned. "You... yur no wo...
woman. No... No boooosom!"
Jessica narrowed her golden eyes and activated the spells on the
topaz. A dozen interlocking incantations unfolded from the yellow
crystal to swarm about the pissing drunk. He must have been a
merchant or a hired soldier to protect the merchant because up to
that moment the Curses of Metamor had never touched him. But as the
pieces of Jessica's spell surrounded and bound themselves to him, so
too did the Curse, blackening the weave of energies in his body in an instant.
The man was still pissing as his body abruptly changed shape, his
face distending into a snout, his hands withering into paws, his
trousers falling down to his ankles which lifted out of his shoes, as
a bushy tail sprouted from his thinning hips. His chest swelled and
rounded within his tunic which bunched around his shoulders as he
stumbled forward, paws scratching at the wall to keep him from
stumbling. But he fell to the ground on all fours, new legs flailing
to get him back to his feet and to get untangled from his clothes.
Jessica felt a great well of satisfaction fill her at seeing a dog
where once had been a man. He was covered in shaggy, gray fur that
fell into his eyes and just like a normal dog, walked on four legs
and possessed no speech of man. The dog barked and whined as he
struggled to get on his feet. He managed to step out of his trousers,
but the tunic was wrapped tight over his back and shoulders. And he
stank! The dog had accidentally fallen into his own puddle of piss as
he changed and now it had smeared across the tunic and soaked into
his fur. He kept lifting one forepaw and brushing it across his snout
with confused and horrified twists.
He'd eventually sober up and perhaps might even be able to figure out
how to force his canine body to take on a more human form like all of
the other animal Keepers. If he managed it, word would spread of how
he'd suddenly changed. This man couldn't have been inside the Valley
for more than two or three days. If rumors spread that the Curse
struck that quickly, nobody would ever come to Metamor again. Jessica
couldn't let that happen.
The dog was beginning to figure out that he couldn't stand on just
two legs anymore and started whining in fear. Jessica spread her
wings and felt the touch of one flower of the hyacinth tip through
her wings, pouring out the sweet nepenthe across the dog's body. The
animal stopped struggling and stared through the fur falling in its
eyes as if it were rapt with a heavenly vision. Another spell and
Jessica sliced the tunic from his back and shoulders; the pieces
settled on the ground harmless at his paws.
Jessica scratched one talon on the stone and the dog now in body and
mind, bolted down the street and around the tavern. She could hear
him running for several seconds more before the music and raucous
laughter of the tavern drowned the scattering of his claws against stone.
The topaz, with the enchantments cast, returned to being ordinary
crystal. Jessica's tremendous joy at the success of her enchantment
was tempered only by the fact that she couldn't carry more than two
or three of these crystals around at any one time. There had to be a
way of anchoring the spell pieces to her feathers or talons without
them triggering before she was ready to use them. There would be a
great deal more study in the days ahead.
Excited at way awaited her tomorrow, Jessica took to wing and flew
back through the night toward the Twin Hearth's Inn and her sleeping husband.
----------
May 3, 708 CR
Weyden felt refreshed and energized when he woke the next morning. He
could feel his wife's feathery form nestled next to him in their bed,
and he shifted one wing to cradle her closer to his side. She lifted
her head and blinked open her eyes, finding him after a moment. "Good
morning, my love," he said in as quiet a whisper as he could manage.
"How did you sleep?"
Jessica leaned forward and nuzzled his beak. They laid their heads
together and enjoyed the moment. Morning light poured through the
window although it would be another hour before the sun would rise
over the mountains. "I slept... well." She almost, if it were
possible for a hawk, purred her words. "And you?"
"Very well," he replied. Weyden knew he had to do a much better job
of hiding his worry than he'd done last night. "You know we have no
patrol duty today. I was rather hoping to share something beautiful
with you today."
She leaned back in their bed, talons clasping and unclasping as she
slid a few inches away. "I have a great deal of research to do..."
Her eyes stayed on him, tentative for a moment and then softening to
the tenderness they had shared before. "But it can wait a day. I
would love to spend a day with you."
"I love you, Jessica. Have you ever seen the cliffs near Lyme Regis?"
She stretched her wings and climbed out of the bed, the linen blanket
sliding down her back. "I have flown that way many times. But it has
been a long time."
Weyden cracked his beak in a grin and then climbed from the bed,
stretching out his wings, legs and neck. "I thought we might spend
the day there together. The view and the dives... I want to share
them with you, my love." And as Lyme Regis was southeast of the Keep
it would keep them as far from Lake Barnhardt and Rickkter as possible.
Jessica stepped around the bed and slid her wings atop his own,
holding him close and to her chest. "I would love to dive there with
you, my Weyden."
----------
The weather cooperated with the two hawks as they had a bright and
mostly clear sky to savor. A few puffy clouds drifted in from the
south at about diving height, but they were easy enough to avoid on
their trip to the cliffs overlooking the small farming and herding
village of Lyme Regis. As they flew south from Metamor Keep the gap
in the mountains widened quickly with the Barrier Range retreating in
the east. The south-facing slopes grew taller as they moved away from
the castle, and the hills at their base rose as well with long
stretches of forest and field rising up the slopes until only the
rock remained. Near Lyme Regis these slopes became sheer walls of
rock that had long been impenetrable natural towers watching over the
eastern extent of the Valley. Humans had not set foot on those cliffs
since the days of the Suielman Empire.
At least until the Curses had turned many Keepers into birds. Now for
a select few the cliffs had become a favored Spring and Summer haunt,
often displacing the real hawks and eagles who had once nested there.
Jessica and Weyden took their pure hawk forms as soon as they leaped
into the air from their balcony; several minutes letter they were
south enough from the Keep that they could see the cliffs in the
distance. After climbing to a comfortable gliding height, they
cavorted in the sky, diving back and forth, looping over top of each
other, and flying close enough to brush each others' wings and to
chase each others' tails.
It took a little more than two hours to reach the cliffs at which
point both of them were ready to rest their wings. They found a crag
of bright granite covered in lichen with grass and moss clinging in
every crevice. Jessica stretched her wings and scratched her talons
on the stone. Weyden preened his wings as the wind cooled them. The
two hawks relaxed for several minutes, staring down the long drop to
the valley below. Green fields and strips of forest intermingled with
clusters of homes, farms, and towers. In the distance they saw the
many acres of farms at Lorland as well as the few villages at the
western edge of the valley. Somewhere even further a dragon circled
the mountains.
Weyden grew to his most human shape and stretched his wings before
tightening his grip with his talons. He turned his beak toward his
wife and asked, "Is it not beautiful here?"
Jessica also grew to full size. "It is." She stepped closer to her
husband and slipped her wing behind his own, hugging him close.
"Thank you for suggesting it. It is good to just fly." She did
greatly want to pursue all of the ideas she'd had the previous night,
but it was good to take a break from time to time. It helped the mind
clear out the cobwebs and to focus on what was important. Besides, it
had been some days since she and her husband had been able to spend
so much time alone together since their wedding.
And the choice of the cliffs overlooking Lyme Regis afforded Jessica
the chance to inspect her spells anchored to Rhena the skunk. She
hadn't thought she'd have that chance for several more days. Truly
Weyden was thoughtful even when he didn't realize it.
Weyden leaned against her, the top of his head nestling against her
cheek. Jessica felt a deep warmth in her heart and ever so gently
crafted spells to ward the cliff from all danger. Through it all
Weyden did nothing but stare out at the valley and fix his eyes on
the cows, sheep, and pigs herding far below them in the fields around
the village. Once Jessica was satisfied that her husband would be
safe, she cast a spell on him much as she had done the night before.
His bright and alert eyes sagged and after a few seconds closed.
"Rest here a moment, my husband," she told him as she pushed his body
into a rigid pose. His talons would keep him safely perched atop the
cliff, and no errant wind or sudden squall would uproot him from his
perch. She adjusted his wings and smoothed out several of his
red-banded feathers until she felt satisfied that her sleeping
husband would strike a dignified pose. And then with a squawk of
pleasure, Jessica leaped from the cliff and shrank to her normal hawk
size, diving through the air toward the village.
The air rushed past her as the ground rushed to meet her. She felt
like an arrow loosed from the bowstring. Though the dive lasted only
a few seconds she felt as if she could live her lifetime in those
moments. All of the world was there before her, clear and without
pretense. Colors were crisp and shapes refined. The air wrapped her
in a guiding hand that reduced her from the limitless possibilities
of stasis to a single act. The only potency left was when she stopped
her descent.
She spread her wings a few hundred feet above the village rooftops
and began circling in a wide arc around the town. Lyme Regis was a
small holding without even a rudimentary fort to protect it. A thick
wooden wall and gate system offered protection from raiders but
little else. The land surrounding the village was broken into farms
and pastureland. Cows grazed and mingled with flocks of sheep while
in the middens at the low end of the village pigs milled about until
they were ready for slaughter. The market was best suited for those
living in the village; most anyone selling meat, wool, or leather
would ride to Lorland or Metamor to the wealthier markets there.
Because of this several merchants found it convenient to buy meat,
wool, or leather in bulk in Lyme Regis on their way to Metamor, or on
their way back down south. And it was to the Evening Crow Inn that
such travelers were sure to come for a hot, hearty meal and a warm,
dry bed. Jessica found the familiar second story roof and landed on
one of the tall chimneys. She could smell roast pork cooking.
The inn fronted the widest street in the village whose contours
closely matched the hilly slopes at the base of the mountains. A
rudimentary gutter system followed the troughs between the hills
where it could easily be washed away by the Spring runoff and Summer
storms. The Inn was shaped like a bended arm, with a wide courtyard
for chickens and some livestock to provide milk and a roast of their
own when they could not procure meat from the market. A pair of
horses and eight sheep mingled in the small field which was backed by
other homes, only a few of whom had windows facing the field. Jessica
watched and waited.
The hawk waited for perhaps half-an-hour before a familiar skunk
stepped into the field with a small basket under one arm. She was
dressed in a plain, ankle length skirt already muddy around the hem,
and a tunic that did not hide her breasts but certainly did not
accentuate them. Her dark green eyes were alert and her thick, tail
flowed languidly behind her despite a few tangles and bits of hay in
the fur. Jessica watched her walk into the field toward the pair of
horses. The hawk glided from the chimney to perch on an awning
overlooking the chicken coop. She peered beneath it but could not see
anyone else in the field.
Jessica dropped to the ground and swelled to her full almost-human
size. The skunk, startled, turned around, her tail lifting upward but
settling after a moment. She put a paw to her chest and breathed a
sigh of relief. The bucket still clutched tight in her right arm, the
skunk took a few steps toward the hawk and chided with a bright and
youthful voice. "Visitors should come to the Inn by the street,
milady. Master Renauld will not like it if his guests start coming in
through his kitchens!"
The hawk could not help but laugh and shake her head. Anyone looking
at this young woman would never have suspected that only a month and
a half ago she had been a man at his prime, a fierce hunter full of
his own conceit and in charge of all the archers of Glen Avery.
Jessica had been irritated and uneasy in his presence. Now she felt
her heart lighter and growing in affection toward this young girl
just entering womanhood. She had blossomed but remained a flower
unpicked, humble and undemanding in her own beauty.
"I am not here to rent a room, Rhena. I came to see you."
She blinked and glanced over her shoulder at the horses. They
remained at the far end of the field grazing on the Spring grass. The
sheep were in the other corner watching them for the slightest hint
of either danger or food. Gone was the easy manner; anxiety and
uncertainty ruled in its place. "How did you know my name?"
"You do not recognize me, Rhena?" Jessica asked. Much the same had
happened the last time she'd visited Lyme Regis and learned the
extent of the hyacinth's power to help people forget things that they
didn't need to know. For Rhena she had forgotten about her old life
and the hawk that had made her new life possible. That new life was
only as good as the spell which had transformed her though, and
Jessica needed to make sure that it would remain. How horrible it
would be for the poor girl if the spell disintegrated and she was
left an older man with no idea why it had happened.
Rhena shook her head and lowered her snout like any peasant might
when they didn't know the rank of the person to whom they spoke. "No,
milady. I apologize but I do not know you."
Jessica took a step forward, her talons sinking into the soft grass
and the mud beneath. "There is no need to apologize. You should not
remember me. Be still for a moment and I will let you return to your chores."
The skunk was too surprised by this request to argue. Jessica reached
out with her will to the tangle of spells that wrapped about her and
which anchored into the curse that made her a skunk. The cords that
returned to the hyacinth were pulsing with energy and on closer
inspection she saw a hundred smaller cords all bundled together like
a rope into a single strand. When Jessica had first cast her spell it
had wrapped about Rhena's body like a cloak. To the hawk's surprise
and delight she saw that it had drawn tighter and tighter about the
Curse until the two were pressed so closely together that she could
not even wiggle a bit of her will between them.
Jessica felt an elation she could not describe nor contain. The
spells she had cast which at first had been so weak as to crumble
before her after only a few seconds were slowly and slowly becoming
so potent that time itself was her ally. In a few days, a week or two
at most, Jessica's alterations and Rhena's skunk curse would fully
merge together. When that happened it wouldn't matter whether or not
the hyacinth continued to power the transformation; Rhena would
always and forevermore be Rhena unless Jessica came and altered her
Curse again.
"Oh, I'm so happy for you, Rhena! You are such a beautiful and lovely
young woman. You are going to make some man very happy some day soon,
I know it!" Jessica squawked and spread her wings, overwhelmed in her
delight. Rhena was so surprised that she stumbled back a step, all
the while smiling as if the suggestion of making a man happy had
brought a particular man to mind. Still, she did not let Jessica wrap
her in those wings. She lifted the bucket in front of her as if it
were a shield.
"I'm sorry, milady. I don't understand."
"You don't need to. In a few moment you won't even remember that I
was here." Jessica marshaled her will and managed to subdue her
emotions. Even though Jessica had transformed Maud first, the
now-giraffe had only consented to becoming a full-time giraffe at the
beginning of April. She had not yet shown signs of the changes to her
Curse becoming permanent. She wondered if remembering the old body
had something to do with it. Maud would be an excellent test case if,
as Jessica suspected, Rhena's alterations merged with her skunk curse
in the next week. Regardless, there was an opportunity here in Lyme
Regis more than this wonderful discovery.
"Rhena, I want you to do as I instruct you to do. You will never
leave this village again unless it is in the company of your husband.
And the one thing you will treasure above all else will be a flower I
bring you. In a few days I will bring you a bulb and you will plant
it and nurture it. You alone. It is a hyacinth and this you will
protect always. Do you understand?"
Rhena shook her head. "I am not even betrothed. How can you speak of
a husband? And what is a hyacinth?"
"You will see soon. Now forget this and tend to your duties."
Jessica jumped into the air and flew back to the chimney. She turned
to watch, once again in her normal hawk form. Rhena stared with an
empty expression at the spot where the hawk had stood, and then she
shook her head and started back out into the field toward the horses.
The skunk was even singing a soft little tune. The hawk hummed it to
herself all the while she watched her lovely skunk tend to her chores
at the inn.
----------
Weyden felt embarrassed that he'd dozed off while perched on the
cliff. Jessica, while nuzzling the side of his neck with her beak,
assured him that it had only been for a few minutes, but there was a
strange disquiet that filled him nevertheless.
They spent a few hours diving off the cliffs and even once giving a
herd of sheep a good scare. The frivolity brightened Weyden's heart
and for a time he forgot his misgivings and to a certain extent the
very reason he had invited his wife out here in the first place. When
their stomachs began to growl, Jessica snatched a rabbit and they
flew back up to the cliffs. A simple spell provided them a fire to
cook the meal. After they had sated their hunger they returned to
resting and observing the world from their lofty vantage.
Two years ago if somebody had told Weyden that he would live out the
rest of his life as a bird he would have thought them mad. Now he was
pleased to discover that an avian life agreed with him and that he
could find contentment in so simple a thing as flight and watching
the world in all its variety. But in all that time he'd always had
another hawk at his side to teach him.
And now Weyden had to be strong for his wife, strong in a way that
she would never enjoy. He had to be strong in defying her. What woman
could ever be grateful for such defiance and assertiveness? Many
women accepted it as their place, but Jessica was not those sorts of
women. But he could not let her abilities make him less of a man
either. And that meant making sure she was protected from all that
would harm her, even if Jessica was responsible for the harm.
So while Weyden took great pleasure in the diving and the feasting,
and especially the intimate time they shared on the cliffs and in the
air, that vague disquiet kept returning. He had sent Rickkter to
destroy the hyacinth; shouldn't Jessica have reacted in some way when
that plant was destroyed? Yet she never lost her vivacious joy, a joy
that on any other day would have brought him nothing but delight.
When the afternoon began to wane the two hawks took to wing to return
to Metamor. Weyden stayed close to his wife, watching her, hoping for
some sign that the corruption was broken. He didn't know what to
expect but he was certain that there would be a sign. Perhaps she
might spiral down wailing in despair. Perhaps she would cry in anger
before begging forgiveness. Perhaps she would fly faster in an
attempt to protect her flower. Weyden saw her do none of those
things. As the sun began to dip toward the western mountains their
talons touched the rim of the balcony outside their home and Jessica
was as eager as ever to continue her magical pursuits.
"There's still a little time for me to do some research before the
sun sets," she noted after folding her wings behind her back. "That
was wonderful, Weyden. Could you find us something to eat in the
market tonight? I want to spend some time crafting spells."
Weyden kept the sigh from escaping his tongue. "Of course, my love. I
will return soon with something to tide us this evening."
He took a little bit of money with him and waited until he was out of
sight around the other side of the inn before he gave voice to the
sigh. His Jessica was still under the hyacinth's power. There could
be no other explanation. But why? He resolved to find Rickkter as
soon as his duties allowed him on the morrow. He wished to find the
raccoon right then, but he knew Jessica would ask him where he'd gone
if he were late in bringing back food.
So with heavy heart the hawk flew to the market square to find a meal
for his wife.
----------
"You must stay here and nest our eggs, my love," she heard Weyden
telling her. Jessica tried to turn her head from side to side, but no
matter which way she looked she couldn't quite see where her husband
was. Yet she could feel the weight of his wings and chest on her back
pressing her downward into the circular bed of cushions and
interlocking twigs, leaves, and stones. Shed feathers, both black and
red, were scattered everywhere like a soft downy quilt.
"Our eggs?" Jessica cawed, a sense of dread filling her. There
beneath her legs clustered together were three oblong eggs each as
big as a roast chicken. When had she lain them? Jessica tried to get
back up, but Weyden's presence pushed her back down. She felt the
smooth surface brush her feathers beneath her tail and with it came
an overwhelming urge to surrender to her husband's demands and the
demands of these eggs.
Weyden stepped into view, his posture more avian than man, his head
tilted to one side to regard her with bemused delight, as if her
struggles were a pleasant bit of levity. Beyond him she could see her
workroom with spell components, slates, chalk, and rows of crystals
and sigils scrawled on parchment. The floor stretched and her
workroom began pulling away as if their apartment were made from taffy.
"Now that you are going to be a mother, for only a woman can be a
mother," Weyden said, pointing at her with one talon, "you must put
aside everything else. You are to take care of those eggs and nothing else."
Jessica shook her head and tried to rise. But her husband squawked
and smacked her down with his wings. The thickest part of his wings
knocked into her head; she could only back up and onto those three
eggs. Jessica let out a caw of anguish, "But my magic!"
"It is over now," Weyden declared. "No more magic for you, my love.
Only motherhood."
"But," Jessica found her legs weakening as the eggs beneath her
warmed her belly and tail, almost numbing her lower half into a
maternal stupor. "I need my magic!"
Weyden glanced over his shoulder at the retreating workroom, and then
cawed with all his lungs. The room hurtled out of sight until there
was nothing left but a lightless corridor of gray stone stretched
until it was a smear of paint more than anything real. "It is no
more," Weyden declared as he turned back around. "You're only duty is
to take care of those eggs. Do not speak otherwise again." Jessica
struggled to get up and to offer another objection, one filled with
fear at how her husband would treat her, when he spoke again, his
eyes glinting with both love and malice at the same time. "Do not
speak at all."
Jessica cawed but no words came out. She lifted her wings to grasp at
her throat, but even her wing claws had dwindled away until there was
nothing left but wings. She had, in the space of a moment been
reduced to a normal hawk in body. The eggs and their nest seemed to
have shrunk with her, but Weyden remained big and powerful, a
dominating presence whose will could not be denied. "You are my wife,
Jessica, and you will be the mother to my eggs! Be that and nothing
more! Your womanhood demands it!"
Jessica shook her head back and forth even as her body betrayed her
by settling in atop the eggs to keep them warm. All around her the
red of Weyden's feathers and wings spread outward to envelop her and
shut out everything around her.
She blinked open her eyes with a gasp that almost turned to an avian
shriek. Jessica was beneath the quilt with her husband sleeping at
her side. She stretched her claws and shifted her tail feathers about
but felt no eggs beneath her or beneath Weyden. The nightmare rang
vividly in her mind, but the panic subsided as soon as she woke. She
took several deep breaths, letting her lungs fill with the warm air
of their bedroom.
Jessica climbed out of the bed, being careful not to disturb Weyden.
Her husband stirred a little but he settled back down a moment later.
Once satisfied she would not need a spell to keep him asleep, she
stepped into her workroom and closed the door. After summoning a trio
of witchlights to illumine her way, she hop-stepped into the middle
of the room and lowered herself into a crouch, wings spread wide at
either side. In a whisper she breathed, "If we have children I won't
be able to help Metamor with my magic anymore."
This isn't how things are meant to be.
"I love him."
As you should. But more than just your husband have need of your skills.
"I want to do the right thing for everyone."
Magic is a tool to do the right thing. You have helped so many already.
"I know."
It is only right that you respect your husband's wish to have
children. But it is not right for you to abandon those who depend on
your magic.
Jessica shuddered and closed her eyes. "How can I do both?"
Your magic is the key. You do not have to be the mother.
Jessica blinked open her eyes and leaned back on her talons. The
thought was so striking that she could not drive it from her mind.
She pondered and pondered every angle, ever nuance, and every
consequence of the notion. Her breathing slowed and her panic faded
until she felt a tremendous peace saturate her. The solution to the
dilemma was simple and apropos. She had already exchanged the roles
of husband for wife for the rooster merchant Richard. Why not for
herself and Weyden?
As a woman Weyden can be a mother to the children he desires and you
can continue the practice of your magic unimpeded. Everyone will have
what they wish. The world will be as it should be.
Jessica nodded and stood. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in
one of the mirrors she kept and she turned to study her countenance.
She admired her black feathers which framed a golden beak and
piercing eyes before flowing down a slender but sturdy body through
elegant wings to strong legs and fierce talons. What would she look
like as a man? And what would Weyden look like as a woman?
It was too soon to find out. Best to mull over the possibility. She
would have to at least discuss it with her husband first. But that
could wait. Perhaps she should have the spell ready for the time he agreed?
Possibilities and hopes swirling in her mind, the hawk returned to
her bedroom, extinguishing witchlights in her wake. Sleep would be
far more pleasant now.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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