I’d gotten lucky.

It had been half an hour and I still couldn’t walk, but I’d gotten lucky.

Dave hadn’t annihilated me with his first spell and his fire wand had “missed”. Not only that, but I’d managed to avoid thinking about the spell I’d inadvertently laid on myself which would kill the first person to wound me. There had been a short moment where I’d slipped, but fear and pain had been enough to distract Dave from his suspicions.

In retrospect baiting out a wound from a warlock was a bad idea, but there was no good options. For all I knew, had I simply impaled him with one of my swords he might have killed me with a similar curse.

Heal V

Heal IIII

Heal III

Heal II

I’d wanted to save those, but if I didn’t get moving soon I was going to start attracting rats.

“Sir?”

Attart’s voice. And here I thought that had been me screaming. I guess I was taking too long. No, that didn’t make sense. I’d told her to wait, hadn’t I?

Another scream. Erin! I struggled to rise—

“There he is! He’s moving! Quickly now.”

Footsteps approached, but not torch light.

A woman with a hollow on her back and a cat’s tail came into view. Not one I recognized. That was how they’d gotten here. Gunhild had been able to see in the dark as well.

Erin knelt by my head, “Oswic, are you okay?”

Other than the pain coursing through every inch of my body, my crippled limbs and my inability to speak? I was doing great.

“Hrggggnnn”

Attart was now kneeling on the other side of me. When had that happened? She shifted as I noticed her, would have fallen on top of me if she hadn’t been ready for it.

“What happened to him?”

The huldra whistled, “He gave better than he got. Look at that man, he cut him clean in half. And that one too. And that one.”

Erin was topless. I’d only just noticed. It didn’t really make a difference with my ring, but there you were. The moss had destroyed most of her clothing. I guess she hadn’t stopped to get more. Or hadn’t been able to. I wasn’t actually sure where I’d sent her.

I shut off my ring to preserve what little of my own honour remained.

“Which one was the warlock?”

Erin scanned the room, “I can’t tell. I didn’t get a good look at him. And none of them remind me of him. Maybe one of the ones missing their face?”

The huldra bent over Dave and then leapt back, “540 doors open at once, he pulled the life out of this one. I thought you were the necromancer.”

So Erin now knew Attart’s vocation, but had stayed by her.

Attart joined the huldra, “Mistress cannot be doing such things. Nor, Mistress suspects, can Sir. Dark magic was involved here.”

“Dvvvvv” it was more spittle than speech, but it got Attart’s attention.

“Is this the warlock?” Attart asked.

“Hggggnnn”

“I will take that as a yes,” she said.

Attart moved out of my view, “I will avoid his soul. I do not know if warlocks can cast their dark magics after death. Give me some time and I will have the truth from the others.”

***

It took more than one spirit to get the full story out. They’d all died before the warlock, so none was entirely sure what had happened, but one had held on long enough despite his mortal wounds to see the obsidian dome attack me.

Erin and the huldra had also figured out a “yes or no” system in the meantime with my glowing skin. I couldn’t flash like a lantern, but I could gradually brighten for yes, and dim for no. It had a few misunderstandings, but allowed me to supplement what the spirits were telling Attart.

By the time regeneration ran out I still couldn’t move my jaw. It hadn’t set right. I could at least (slowly) (painfully) stand.

“Ghyaaaaaaa!”

Not that it felt good. But I couldn’t move my jaw, and I didn’t have the courage to adjust its position myself, so I had to improvise.

“Where are you going?” Erin asked. Her brow was furrowed in concern, “You don’t have to walk. We’ll get the others, prepare a sling. You need to—”

I stepped past whatever invisible threshold defined the corner of screaming.

My jaw wrenched fully open, as wide as ever. Ligaments tore, bone fractured and every joint from my shoulder up popped.

My plan worked! I was a genius.

I was pretty sure the screaming was louder than normal, but I didn’t let it bother me. I was too busy passing out.

***

“He is moving. Are you alright Oswic?”

I was lying on Attart’s lap. She’d gained weight. Apparently my ideal woman had trended towards a pillow sometime between passing out and fully gaining consciousness. It helped counter the way the room kept lurching back and forth. No one else was saying anything though so I was polite in turn and didn’t mention it either.

“Every curse is a blessing, and every blessing a curse.”

Oww. I could talk, but it felt like my face would fall apart, and something kept clicking every time I opened my mouth.

“Did you consider letting Erin give you her face a second time in order to heal?”

Well now I felt stupid. Though truth was, I was somewhat scared to try. I wasn’t sure where that road was leading. If the choice was between being a crippled man or a woman with no hopes at love and family... It would be an easy choice if I wasn’t in so much pain. But health superseded everything once it was bad enough. Even my future.

“I’ll try yours, if you are willing.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Of course. Stay right there. I am going to lie down.”

Attart did as she said, which slightly lifted her legs, putting my own neck at an uncomfortable angle. And then it settled as her legs shifted form to once again accommodate my head. For that brief moment, I was selfishly grateful for the holy man’s card.

Both of them.

Attart went limp as mud crawled up my arms.

Sweet relief embraced me as I scraped it away. My bones straightened, my elbow realigned, my fingers became more than a tangled mess.

Strangely, my arms did not look like Attart’s. The colour was still gold rather than the light bronze of the Bronze Coast. My muscles still superseded hers, I still bore the lesions and scars from the warlock’s crushing cage.

But they were not “mine” now either. My fingers curved differently, delicately like a noble’s. My knuckles were most obvious, no longer raised from years of training and combat, now as thin as a (large) child’s. The hints were there in my forearms as well, though far more subtle. A hair thinner here, a breath narrower there, the strange bump on my wrist was gone. Little things like that.

The absence of pain was the most extraordinary part. It was enough I could cry.

“I could also help, Oswic. While Attart recovers.”

Erin.

She was hesitant. Scared, probably. But full of courage.

“I’d appreciate your help greatly,” Click, Click, Click. Ow. Ow. Ow. Hopefully I’d get a new jaw.

She lay down the opposite direction of Attart and placed her hand on my forehead. Her hand slid away as strength left her.

Mud washed over my whole body.

It was my turn to be scared.

I had no choice.

It was smothering me.

I scraped it away.

***

My jaw still hurt.

I’d lost a full inch of height from the transfer and more. I’d shrunk in every direction. With my crushed bones being the size of Erin had been preferable to the size of Oswic, I guess. It had fixed all my bones. My spine could now move. And yet my jaw was still aching.

It wasn’t even that Erin’s head was unusually large (though it was). My jaw had been dislocated and mashed beyond merely a reduction in size. It was a miracle I hadn’t lost any teeth.

At least Erin was tall.

I was still lying on Attarts lap. I could sit now, but she was comfortable and the room was still lurching about unreasonably. I wished one of the others would ask it to stop.

“Twice more, Oswic?” Attart asked, “We do not yet know if you can control what is taken.”

Twice? My healing spell would set me right in time. Or right enough. It would be hard to have my jaw heal properly from that beating. I’d be resetting it day after day, and my teeth might never face the same direction.

Twice more was good odds. If it went poorly I could stop without losing too much ground, and if the results were minor or positive I could try again.

“Are you willing?” I asked Erin, “I would take from you both times if you are willing. We are already close enough that I am risking less.”

“And Lady is taller than me.”

“And you’re taller.”

Erin set her jaw (show off), “Of course I am willing. I thought we were done for when the warlock cast his first spell. I’ve never seen such power. I instantly regretted coming here, cursed myself a fool for thinking I could invade the warlock stronghold.”

She choked and cleared her throat. Her voice was tight, “And then you stopped him. Stopped him and his army all while protecting me. Even when he melted you half away you were calm and somehow stopped him. I thought you were dead thrice over, but you were always one step ahead. We need you, and I will do whatever is needed to help you.”

We were all silent for a moment, but then Erin rushed to fill the silence, taken by a sudden thought, “It’s not so pragmatic as all that. We need you, but I love you Oswic. You said we were friends before, we are friends again and more. Brother and sister. I am by your side. I am yours.”

Did that mean brother and sister, or brother and sister? The Delta had odd ideas about the proper use of words and I wasn’t sure how to ask. I’d take it in the familial sense so Brace wouldn’t kill me. Attart was still smiling so something was going right.

“Thank you. I will do my best to earn you love. I am ready now.”

Erin gently cupped my jaw with her hand.

Ow ow ow ow ow.

There was no such thing as gentle when it came to my jaw, but I got her intention.

Did intention matter? We were about to find out.

***

My beard fell off. It was wild and tangled. My constant teleports kept me cleaner than the most fastidious bather, but my grooming was none existent, so the change was an object improvement to my appearance.

But it had been my beard. And now I looked entirely fey. If someone only saw my head at a glance, I might even be mistaken for Erin. Minus the radiant skin, living hair, and glowing red eyes of course. At least I’d kept my manly chin.

Erin’s eyes fluttered open, “Did it work?”

I shook my head to avoid opening my mouth.

Ow.

It didn’t help.

“No. But right county. Gave me the closest shave of my life. Are you willing to try again?”

She passed out as a way of answer.

This time the cloying feeling crawled up my legs rather than over my face. The fact it had effected the area around my jaw might have been a coincidence.

I groaned and sat up. My healing was supernatural. My spells had removed scars, they’d set my jaw, eventually. Maybe others would consider it rakish.

Wiping down my legs revealed a set of magnificent calves a king would envy. My legs had already been muscled and strong, but now it looked as if I’d been dancing all my life. Erin had mentioned she was a dancer, hadn’t she?

Erin woke while I was standing. Her eyes held none of the panic they had the first time I’d taken from her. That part of my mission at least had been a success.

I did a quick assessment of my resources. I’d recovered most of my injuries, but my jaw was still a problem. Enough of one I was considering teleportation past the screaming corner on our return. I was nearly out of spells and we’d made it less than halfway to the stream. My companions were all worse at combat than I was, and I was no champion among men. On the other hand, I had a necromancer with me.

“Attart, can you bind these mercenaries’ spirits? The warlock took a lot out of me, I don’t know if I can make it to the stream on my own.”

“Rest. We can get water another day,” said Erin, “Three days without water. Everyone knows that.”

Attart cast an appraising eye around the room. “They died recently enough I can bind them Sir, but it will take some time. Several hours.”

“We can wait. If you would?”

To Erin I said, “You’re right. It’s wise not to push too far or too hard. I’m used up. Even if I could probably succeed against the giant ticks or a surprise pair of frogs or ruby beetles, there would be little risk in not overextending. The pain is my jaw is hellish enough without a dry throat and parched lips, but the pain would be temporary, whereas death would not.

“However, I am not asking you to trust me or rely on me. I am done for today. But Attart can handle it. A necromancer is an expert in every field, a general with countless scouts, a captain with invincible soldiers. Anything short of another warlock won’t be a problem, and I’ve been here before.

“Maybe things won’t be as I remember, and the world always has more surprises left in store, but those same surprises might be waiting instead for our return if we live too early.”

“And caution too far is another form of recklessness,” she nodded, “Very well. If you trust her, I will too.”

***

I could risk one more attempt at fixing my jaw. The calves had been a non-issue, and losing my beard would have been neutral in normal circumstances where I didn’t have Erin’s face. I had sensitive skin and shaving was always a trail.

I’d had sensitive skin. I could probably drag a dry razor across my face without feeling it now.

“Are you up for one more attempt while we wait?”

“Of course,” Erin replied.

My legs again. More specifically, my feet. Off to a bad start.

I used my ring to observe the change while I freed them from the enchantment. It was subtle, and it was going to make my shoes uncomfortable for the near future.

If I’d had to describe my toes before the change I’d say they were functional enough. Broad, maybe. Tangled would be another term. Not broken or snarled like an ingrown hedge. Simply wild. They crooked and warped every-which way.

Erin, by contrast, had the toes of a princess. Which was good, because she’d intimated she was indeed some sort of noble.

I hadn’t taken their dainty nature, just their order. Straight, strong. Like a marble statue designed to impress rather than disturb. I could live with it. Would have to either way.

But walking was a concern. My stolen boots had slowly been worn to fit my feet. I had no doubt my whole stride would be thrown off. I’d probably get blisters if I could still get blisters. (Which I couldn’t).

That was enough risk taking for one day.