Chains of Loss (15 page)

“What happened?”

“Eventually, he got caught – and was dealt with.”  There was a note of finality in the machine’s voice.  “Anyway, she’s also determining what she wants to look like, though she can change at any time.”

“Lucky.”

Derek’s Shadow blinked.  “Yeah, forgot to mention that in the list of perks.  It takes time, but she’ll be able to alter your body if you ask her to.”

“Huh.  How much?”

“Well, Derek used to be a girl.”

Derek’s yell beat her exclamation of disbelief.  “SHADOW!  That’s…ugh!  That’s not true!”

The machine grinned impishly.  “Okay, not really.  Well, not originally.  He just tried it for a week or so.  I kind of enjoyed it.  The heels really suited him.”

Mycah didn't want to think about that any more, so she switched her attention to the young shadow as it flickered through several skin colors.  Its face was still completely generic until its eyes met hers.  The fine features that looked back at her took her a moment to recognize; if it had been reversed it would have been her reflection, rather than her duplicate.  She shuddered.  “Please, not that.”

The young shadow returned to a completely generic form, then spoke.  “Okay.  What would you like me to look like?”

Mycah hesitated.  “Are you…”  She tapped her temple.

“Yes.  I am inside.”

She nodded.  “You can’t just see what I like?”

“No.  I do not know you yet.  If you wish, I can teach you how to show me an image if there’s someone you’ve seen that you’d like me to look like.”

“You can teach me later, but…no.  There’s nobody I’d like you to imitate.”

Derek coughed.  “We’ll give you two some privacy, all right?”

“Sounds good.”

Mycah’s Shadow flickered and smiled.  It raised its hand and inspected its fingers, clearly fascinated.  Mycah looked around for something to sit down on and finally settled on the tree trunk. 

“So,” she said.  “I’m Mycah.”

“I know.  I am your Shadow.”

Mycah was left at a loss.  What else did she have to say?  She returned to the topic of appearance.  “What do you want to look like?”

“I do not have preferences yet.”

“Yet…?”

The Shadow smiled.  “I am only a few fractions of a second old.  I do not know.” 

“So you could wind up deciding you’d like to be a man?”  The topic wouldn’t have occurred to her if Derek’s Shadow hadn’t just spoken of it. 

“Unlikely.”  Mycah hid her relief.  The idea of a man living in her head was distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Erm.  Okay.  So you’re…?  I mean, you have Derek’s memories…” 

“I do not understand the question.”

“You have Derek’s memories.  Some of them.  Does he like girls?”

“Yes.”

She’d wondered.  “Does that mean that you like girls?”

“I do not have a sex drive, but I can imitate yours.  In doing so, I may express attraction to people that you are attracted to.”

“Okay…”

“It is also a factor in choosing my appearance.  It is considered inappropriate for a Shadow to engage in a sexual relationship with its own caster, so it is unlikely that my most frequently used appearance will be one that you find particularly appealing.”

“That’s…that’s good.” 

“Likewise, my appearance should not be one that causes you undue distress.”

“I still don’t know how you should look.”  An idea occurred to her.  “How about something from Derek’s memories?  Does he have, say, a girlfriend?”

The generic head cocked to one side.  “I believe that was an attempt at being subtle.  And, not at this time, no.”

Mycah fought a blush, but the idea was sound.  “How about…a sister?”

“No siblings.”

“Well, what’s his mother look like?”

Mycah’s Shadow rippled and assumed the form of a tall, athletic woman with perfect teeth, brown skin and black hair.  Her flawless features may well have represented a goddess of beauty.

Mycah gaped as the vision spoke.  “Derek probably wouldn’t appreciate it if I were to use this form.” 

“P-probably not.  Someone else from his memories?”

Her Shadow shifted again, this time into a perfectly-proportioned, fair-skinned blonde woman.  Then a curvy redhead who was shorter than Mycah but could probably have ignited silk with a come-hither look.  The Shadow shifted again and again; each form she took would easily have been declared a legendary beauty.

“Is-is that what all women look like on his world?”

“Most of them.”

A knife slipped into Mycah’s heart.  She couldn’t compete with that.  No woman on Earth could compete with that.  But…“What do the others look like?”

Her Shadow shifted form again several times.  Rainbow-colored skin.  Flowing hair, far beyond practical lengths and of unnatural colors.  A huge woman with incredible muscle growth.  And finally...

“What the hell?  Why do you have a tail?” 

The cat-eared avatar shrugged.  “Some people like to look this way.”

“…Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does Derek?  I mean, does he like girls who look like that?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Thank God.”

Her Shadow resumed its neutral form.  “I sense that this has distressed you.”

Mycah frowned.  “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.  I’m inside your head, remember?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that matters, anyway.”  It was true.  She didn’t really want Derek to think she was beautiful.  If he did, he’d want to get close.  If he got close, he’d die.  “No, nothing that matters at all,” she growled.  “Take whatever form you want.  I don’t care.”

Her Shadow blinked at her, then nodded.  “I am sorry that I upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me, dammit.”

“Very well.  What else do you wish to do now?”

“I don’t care.”

“What do you wish me to do?”

“I—okay.  I don’t even know, really, what your duties are.”  Her mouth twisted.  “Sorry.  I’m being rude.  You do whatever it is you do.  We’ll talk more when I actually have some idea of what the hell we should talk about.”

“May I have access to your senses?  Experience what you see, taste, hear, smell, and touch?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t see why not.”

“And how should I call you?”

“Just…Mycah.”  She looked around.  “How do I go back to the real world?”

“That’s…one of the things I do.”

“All right, then.  Wake me up.”

***

Friday, October 27, 3481.

Time: Early afternoon.

Location: Keiths Manor.  City of Kaitopolis.

By the noon hour, Lydia was exhausted.  After breakfast, Kailyn had taken her on a tour of the Keiths compound, including the kitchens, mess hall, barracks, private rooms, privy, Kharai laboratories, wizards’ laboratories, library, sparring rooms, and medical facilities.  They’d stopped only briefly for introductions, leaving Lydia wondering how many of the people she’d just met were heroes. 

Did she owe her life to the chef?  Had the man eating a plate of eggs turned the tide of the Battle of Three Hills?  Could the unstoppable Aurolan be here right now, washing dishes as a respite from battling orcs?  If she opened a drawer in a random room, might she come across the Blood of Redmere waiting for its master?  Was the Fang of Despair being used in sparring matches?  She had no way of knowing, but the possibility set her imagination afire.  The master assassin might have trained Styx; that would explain some of the latter's notoriety.

The tour wrapped up back at Lydia’s room.

“You’re not likely to stay in there for long, but you're my only current assignment,” Kailynn said.  “Just pull the rope; if I’m not available, someone else will come and I’ll follow as soon as I can.  By the way, you’ll want to wash up.”

“Oh?”

“You have lunch with Lord Michael in ten minutes.”

“
What?
”

“Have fun!”

And with that, the perplexing serving girl was gone.  Lydia stared in shock for a moment, then rushed to the closet.  Kailyn be damned, Lord Michael was widely considered the city’s most marriageable man.  She wasn’t going to fling herself at him, but she’d rather be plucked than go before him looking a mess. 

The closet was locked.  All Lydia had were her street clothes; not even a uniform.  She smacked the closet door in frustration, then knelt, wings carefully furled behind herself.  She might be able to pick the lock…if she knew how.

Something slid into the room under the door.  Lydia scrambled for it; it was a note, wrapped around a key.

An hour, not ten minutes.  Pick something to wear and I’ll take you to the baths.  I will be joining you.  You may wish to wear a bathing suit. 

Gotcha! 

-K

Lydia shook her head.  It was
on
, but she didn’t have the time to plot revenge.  The closet held three dresses in her size, all of them backless.  It was an important consideration for someone with wings. 

She paused at the brief bathing suit.  She really wasn’t sure if Kailyn’s flirting was serious or not.  If it
was…
she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.  Being naked in front of the serving girl would probably be as bad as being naked in front of a man. 

Kailyn sighed in exaggerated disappointment when Lydia emerged from her room with the suit.  Lydia fought a blush, but followed her towards the baths.

By the time they finished, Lydia was glad she’d worn the suit.  In the warm water, Kailyn had given her a full physical exam, checking each of her limbs, examining her wings for bruises, noting missing feathers, and asking many prying questions.  She’d clearly read Styx’s report and was under orders to perform a follow-up. 

Lydia was equally relieved that Kailyn had elected to wear a suit as well.  The thought of Kailyn conducting the examination while nude had given Lydia a new definition of awkwardness.  Afterwards, Kailyn helped her dry off and dress, then led her to Lord Michael’s study. 

“And here’s your stop.  I’ll see you tomorrow morning, likely, at the latest.”

“Wait.  You’re not coming with me?”

“Nope.  He doesn’t need to see me, birdie.”

“Well.”  Lydia’s heart pounded.  “What do I say to him?”

“Don’t know.  Don’t wanna know.  What happens between you and him is not my business – unless you get him in the sack.  Then you’re giving me details.  Other than that, unless he tells you to tell people, whatever happens in there did not happen.  You may have sat down in the same room with Lord Michael; coincidentally, you may have both consumed food during that time period, but neither of you was aware of the other’s presence nor of the presence of anyone else in the room, and the idea that any information was exchanged amongst anyone who happened to be there is completely ridiculous.  Got it?”

“Y-yeah.” 

“Good.  I have some favors to go collect.”  Kailyn turned to go.

“Kailyn.”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t really…”

The serving girl smiled.  “I like to keep people guessing…but you really wanna know, don’t you?  Okay, here…”

She leaned in close to Lydia’s ear and whispered.  “I never make a bet that I’d mind losing.”  With that, she kissed Lydia on the cheek, smiled at her and hurried off.

Lydia stood confused for a moment, then shook it off and opened the door.  “Lord…Michael?”  She entered cautiously.

She’d never seen so many books.  For a moment, they held her attention, but she quickly got a hold of herself and looked to the desk in the middle of the room. 

Lord Michael was standing there with a knife and a roll.  He glanced up at her approach and smiled broadly.  “I hope you don’t mind that it’s just sandwiches.  We have turkey, chicken, roast beef, tomato, grenni sauce, butter…”  He winked.  “Styx has a lot of information about you, but he didn’t record your favorite sandwich, and that’s a damn shame.”

She managed a shy smile.  She’d never seen him up close before.  His reputation was well-deserved; with his broad shoulders, blonde hair and chiseled features, he was more likely to be mistaken for an angel walking the earth than she was, despite his lack of wings. 

“Lieutenant?”  It took her a moment to realize that he meant her.  The promotion had come straight from Styx, less than a day ago.

“Ah—turkey?  With tomato.” 

“Actually, then, I have a special treat.”  He offered a covered bowl.  “You’d be the first in centuries to try it – other than me and the cooks, that is.”  He lifted the lid, revealing a thick red sauce.

Lydia leaned in.  “What is it?”

“A tomato-based sauce that the ancients worshiped.  Well, some of them did.  It’s called ketchup.  Want to try it out?”

“I—of course, sir.”

Five days ago, she had been beaten senseless and raped.  Today, the most powerful man in the city had made her a sandwich.