"And so we shall have to brave the Void to locate Nox," Jolie concluded. "That seems to be the only way to reach your baby."
"Then I shall go there!" Orlene exclaimed, brightening. She was now as lovely as she had been at the height of her mortality, though her grief and worry detracted somewhat from it. "I thank you, Jolie, for your support and research: you have given me genuine hope."
"We shall go there," Jolie corrected her. "I would not send you alone to such a treacherous region."
"You have already done too much, my friend. You must return to your interrupted task."
"My observations are ongoing and not immediately pressing; this is more urgent."
"For me, yes, but it is not your concern. I would not—"
"Orlene, it is my concern," Jolie said firmly. "I was watching over you, and I neglected that, and you died."
"I took my own life!"
"Because your baby sickened and died—because his genetic pattern had been changed, because your ghost husband sought a favor from Gaea without reckoning its consequence. I am Gaea's companion; had I been watching, I could have warned her, and Gaw-Two would have been spared. That is my guilt." That was only part of it; she had let this happen to Gaea's mortal daughter! How could she ever make up for that? She dreaded the inevitable time when she would have to tell Gaea.
Orlene gazed at her and did not speak.
They left the Tree together. Gaea was off on another mission; they did not see her.
There was an access to the Void at the edge of Purgatory, the one used by Clotho when she went to fetch more thread. They followed the road, and then the path, through a dense forest. The trees become so large and close that they shaded the path, making it seem to be dusk. Their gnarled trunks seemed to assume grotesque faces, the sinister recesses staring out at the trespassers. Even Jolie, who had become familiar with Purgatory and other aspects of the Afterlife, found herself becoming apprehensive. How was it affecting Orlene?
The great trees encroached further, their roots clutching at the path like twisted talons. A trunk blocked the path ahead: they had to squeeze around it, only to encounter another in the way. Soon they were lost in the maze of dark columns, unable to see far in any direction or to discern a coherent path. Jolie was not at all sure she could find her way out naturally: fortunately she could always revert to her home drop of blood, heedless of the route between. If that became necessary, she would clasp Orlene by the hand and bring her along.
The trees became gradually different. It wasn't just a matter of species, but of realm; their trunks were assuming surfaces and colors not seen in nature, such as tinted glass or bluish steel. Their foliage became geometrical, each leaf fashioned as if by compass and straightedge into circle, oval, hexagon or square. Light came through, reflecting from mirror surfaces and refracting through transparencies. This was now a fairyland forest, with bright rays splaying out from many nexuses, splendid in an unsettling way.
The path became clear again—but it diverged. One fork progressed into a region of disintegrating trees, some even floating upside down, their colors inverted, too, with green roots and brown leaves. The other fork wound toward some kind of mountain. Perhaps both paths went there, for both were devious, but would they rejoin?
The two women looked at each other. "I'm afraid my expertise was left at the edge of the forest," Jolie said. "I have never been into this region before. I have no idea how to proceed."
"I see that one path is better used than the other," Orlene said. "Would that be significant?"
Jolie hadn't noticed. The new ghost was recovering her mental acuity! "Clotho, the youngest Aspect of Fate, comes here monthly to renew her supply of Thread, as I understand it. She must use one path, and that one has become worn."
"Does Clotho go to see Nox?"
"I don't think so."
"Then maybe the other one is ours."
Jolie shrugged. She had no better logic.
They took the path less traveled. It made its way toward the mountain, which rose up monstrously as they approached. The peak was lost in cloud, and the base seemed to delve down below the ground, as if it were no natural configuration, but an alien object set within the scene.
"There is something strange about this landscape," Orlene remarked.
Jolie laughed. "You are just noticing? This is the fringe of the Void, where the laws of reality start breaking down!"
"Apart from that," Orlene said. "So far we have seen odd trees, but now—I don't know."
Jolie had to agree. The oddness was shifting from quantitative to qualitative, as it were; the trees were obvious, but now there was something subtle. "It seems to relate to the mountain."
When they reached the base of the mountain they had another clue: it was indeed set into the terrain. There was a gap a handsbreadth wide between the land and the slope of the mountain, and this was maintained below. The gap extended as far and deep as they could see. It was as though the mountain were a jewel set in the land and had contracted slightly, leaving a space. If nothing were done, in time the jewel would fall out of its setting and be lost. Meanwhile it remained, and it seemed it was theirs to climb. The path went up to the edge and on up the slope, neatly ignoring the gap.
"Nox is there?" Orlene inquired, glancing up.
Jolie considered. "When Gaea is busy, or wishes to make a point, she makes it difficult for others to approach her residence," she said. "Even other Incarnations lack power to approach her in her domain, unless she accedes. Nox is by all accounts the most seclusive of Incarnations, so perhaps this is her challenge that keeps away intruders. If so, then it means we are on the right path."
Orlene grimaced. Even in that expression she looked better than she had been when grieving for her baby. The challenge was taking her mind from her personal problem, and that was good. "Then we had better get moving."
They stepped over the gap and stood on the mountain. The oddness abruptly magnified; this was definitely an unearthly structure! There was a vibrance about it, an animation not as of life but as of an awakening machine with sophisticated circuits. Suddenly Jolie was uncertain of the security of her ghostly state; whatever was here seemed competent to capture her spiritual aspect as readily as it might have her physical aspect.
Orlene, too, hesitated. "Something about this," she said. "I feel a power I don't trust."
"The power of an Incarnation, perhaps," Jolie agreed. "Sometimes Gaea manifests physically in the mortal realm, and when a mortal becomes aware of her, he is awed by her mere presence. This feels somewhat like that. An Incarnation is to ordinary folk what a mountain is to a molehill. They have powers we hardly dare dream of. If this mountain is of Nox, she is aware of us, and we are in her power."
"She wants us to desist?"
"I think if she wanted that, she would have removed the mountain entirely, or made the path impenetrable. No, I suspect this is merely her warning: we are in her territory now, and must obey her rules. She will let us proceed if she chooses."
Orlene gazed up the slope. "You say she is the Incarnation of Night, yet this is light."
"I confess I don't understand this aspect, but surely we shall be in darkness before we reach her."
"Let's hope it is only physical."
Then Orlene noticed something in the path. It looked like a stick, jammed in so as to stand vertically. But it wasn't natural; the upper end was shaped into a handle.
Jolie reached down to take it, but her hand passed through it. "An illusion!" she said, hardly amused. In a sense, everything here was illusory, including themselves, but so far it had all been in a common framework, interacting as if physical. She didn't want the confusion of layered illusions.
"You mean it isn't real?" Orlene inquired, reaching for it herself. This sort of thing evidently remained a novelty to her.
"It's real, just not on the same plane—the same level of being," Jolie explained. "There are an infinite number of planes of being, and the Incarnations can craft them to their needs. We, as ghosts, are on one plane, and seem solid here, but not on Earth. It depends. This must be Nox's doing."
Orlene's hand touched the stick. "But it's real!" she exclaimed. Her fingers closed about the handle and she drew it out of the ground. "A wand!"
"A magic wand!" Jolie agreed, trying to touch it and failing again. "One only you can wield!"
"But what can I do with it? I know nothing about this!"
"It must have been left for you. This may be Nox's invitation for you to proceed. The wand may be the key to progress when some barrier appears."
"You mean I wave it and magic happens?" Orlene waved it experimentally. Nothing happened.
"You may have to invoke it," Jolie offered, "But it's best not to play with unknown magic. Keep it with you, and invoke it only at need."
Orlene nodded. "I have magic, but it doesn't focus on inanimate things. I can't tell whether this wand is good or evil or neutral, but I suppose I would be foolish to set it aside until I discover its purpose."
"I think so," Jolie said. "Nox evidently has something in mind for you." She was reassured by this evidence, but not completely; if Nox was watching them and wanted them to proceed, why the mystery?
They moved on up the path. In this region they seemed solid and alive, for this was at the fringe of Purgatory, but they did not get hungry or tire in the way a mortal might. They made good progress, following the path in what they hoped was a spiraling ascent. It might have been more direct to go straight up the side, but there were loose rocks and steep faces and prickly briars that seemed worth avoiding. They were both dressed in light blouses and skirts and comfortable slippers, having no way to anticipate what they might encounter in their approach to Nox. So far, this was good enough. Jolie had expected to conjure whatever outfits they required, for the magic she had learned in life remained with her in death, and indeed had grown with experience. But when she had tried to conjure sturdier walking shoes, it hadn't taken; it seemed that Nox banned magic other than her own here.
Orlene paused, listening. "What is that sound?"
Jolie concentrated. There was a faint humming or buzzing in the distance, getting louder. "Bees?"
"Do bees swarm in the Afterlife?"
"I never heard of it. Bees and most other creatures seem to have their own Afterlife, which only rarely intersects ours. This could be one of those intersections, though."
"If we remain perfectly still, they should pass without molesting us. Norton was a man of the wilderness; he educated me on the beauties of nature."
Norton was her lover, in life—the one who had sired her baby. He had arrived just as Jolie guided Orlene away from her dead body. Jolie kept silent, so as not to encourage saddening memories.
The noise increased, developing a rattle. That didn't sound like bees!
Then the source came into view: a cloud of things that jumped and fluttered and descended. There seemed to be thousands of them.
"Locusts!" Orlene exclaimed. "I thought those were abolished decades ago!"
"The rules are different here," Jolie reminded her. "I think we'd better hide."
"But locusts eat only plants!""
"Among the mortals." Jolie headed for the bushes beside the path.
Orlene hesitated, then followed her example just as the vanguard of the swarm arrived.
The insects landed and began to chomp. The foliage of the bushes disappeared. In a moment the locusts were dropping onto Jolie and chomping at her clothing.
She couldn't help herself; she was revolted by the contact. "Away!" she cried, brushing frantically at them. "Off! Off!" She hated to touch them, but hated worse to let them touch her. She heard Orlene exclaiming similarly in the next bush.
Then the locusts began to bite flesh. Jolie screamed, and Orlene echoed her. Both leaped out of their bushes, flailing at the horrible creatures. The locusts clung, continuing to bite; their feet hooked in, making it as easy to crush them as to remove them. More descended, cloaking the women with their loathsome bodies. "The wand!" Jolie cried. "Try it now!"
"I invoke you!" Orlene screamed, waving the wand violently.
A cloud of darkness formed around the tip of the wand. It spread rapidly, enclosing Orlene and the locusts, then Jolie. It became night around them, complete with stars.
There was a wrenching of the cosmos. Jolie felt herself turning around and over and inside out, painlessly, but with vertigo. The biting stopped. The locusts were gone. The vertigo was evidently too much for them.
The cloud of darkness dissipated. Light returned, penetrating as the thickness of the darkness eased.
Jolie found herself on a slope—but the mountain had changed. It was now alien. No—it was a mountain-sized depression! They were standing on the slope of a roughly conical pit. Yet, oddly, it wasn't dark in its depths; it was lightest at the base and darkening at its rim.
Rim? Jolie looked upslope—and spied a giant dome. This was not a pit, it was a closed cave!
Beside her, Orlene was gazing around with equal wonder. "Like the inside of a tremendous diamond!" she said.
Jolie had to agree. The walls of their prison were faceted, and the whole was like an elegant cut. How had they come here?
Again Orlene fathomed it first: "The dark cloud—it phased us into the mountain!" she exclaimed. "We are inside the mountain!"
"But then it's upside down!" Jolie said. "Narrow at the base and broad at the—"
"It isn't, we are!" Orlene said. "We were climbing toward the point; now we are descending toward the point. We're inverted—inside and upside down."
Indeed, it seemed to be so. "That was one impressive bit of magic," Jolie said. "The wand got us away from the locusts by phasing us into the mountain, where they couldn't go."
"Well, you did tell me to use it at need!"
They contemplated each other. Their clothing was tattered but still serviceable. Their skins were abraded, but not seriously damaged. The locusts had not been able to do a lot of damage in the few seconds they had had.
"Do you suppose the wand can conjure us back outside?" Orlene asked.
"That seems likely. But maybe we should descend to the peak of the mountain first, then go out. That will save energy and danger."
Orlene nodded agreement. They resumed their travel, following the same path they had, but from the other side: a slightly raised surface. Indeed, all of the local contours seemed to be the same as those of the outside of the mountain, with the exception of the living portion: the grass, brush and trees. The outcroppings of rock were pits here, and the depressions were mounds. On the larger scale this was an evenly faceted surface, but on the immediate level it was highly varied.
In fact, it seemed to be such a perfect inversion of the outer surface of the mountain that increasingly Jolie wondered about it. She had thought the mountain was a shell, with an inside and an outside, and that the wand had phased them through that shell and put them on the inner surface. But such a mold had no need to be identical on inside and outside, and indeed was unlikely to be. In fact, it might be close to impossible on a scale like this; such a thin film, following the exact surface of a mountain, should quickly collapse unless soundly buttressed on one side or the other. This one wasn't buttressed outside or inside.
"Something funny about this," Orlene said. "I'm not sure we're inside a hollow mountain; I think we're part of it!"
"We'd be embedded in it!" Jolie said, laughing.
"No, somehow we're reacting to the rock and earth the solid inanimate parts—as if they are air, while the air is like rock to us now. Gravity is reversed too; we're trying to fall away from the planet, but the air is stopping us. Normally we're trying to fall into the center of the planet, but the ground stops us."
"But we're not on the planet," Jolie pointed out. "We're at the verge of Purgatory, which is nowhere in relation to the planet, but might be pictured as a two-dimensional plane somewhere between Earth and infinity. We seem solid here because our ghostly state has better definition; it's an illusion, for we have no three-dimensional solidity."
"Oh, I forgot about that! I'm still thinking in mortal terms. Sometimes it's hard to believe I'm really dead."
"Your body is dead; your soul lives on. But I think you have helped me answer a confusion I was having. I thought this big diamond structure should collapse because it isn't supported on either side, but of course I was thinking in mortal terms. The rules here are those of Purgatory and illusion; this structure is as Nox made it, and there is no point questioning it."
"So it really can be us assuming a solid semblance, because if Nox defines the rules of interaction, that's how it is. A dream world."
"Yes, it really can be." Jolie glanced at her, bothered by something else, but not sure what. Orlene didn't seem quite the same, but Jolie wasn't certain that she had changed. Maybe it was just this altered perspective again.
They resumed their descent, but were shortly interrupted by something new. The ground, such as it might be, was shuddering.
They looked around, alarmed, and spied motion across the pit. Something was moving, sliding across the surface like flowing water. The effect spread around the pit, toward them.
"Avalanche!" Jolie exclaimed. "Or a snow slide, or something."
"Maybe water?" Orlene asked, peering at the stuff. It seemed to sparkle.
"We've seen no water here before," Jolie said. "But it does seem to move like it."
Then the effect reached them. Fine powder sifted down by their feet, and by the sound of it, more was on the way from above.
"That's not water," Orlene said, bending to scoop some with a hand. "It's dust, or—ouch! It prickles!"
"That's glass!" Jolie exclaimed. "Ground glass! Or diamond dust! Don't breathe it!"
Orlene dropped her handful with alacrity. "But in a moment it will bury us!"
"Use your wand! We have to get out of here!"
Orlene whipped out the wand and waved it. "I invoke you!"
The darkness formed, expanding as it had before. In a moment it encompassed them. The vertigo returned.
It passed. As the cloud dissipated, Jolie saw that they were back on the outer mountain, amid the bushes, but higher than they had been. Their progress inside translated into progress here.
Orlene rubbed her fingers cautiously together. "No more glass," she said gruffly. "Or diamond dust. Wish I'd had a bag to save some of it!"
"That's a relief! Apparently the things of the inside can't follow us out, any more than the things of the outside can follow us in. The wand is attuned to us alone, by Nox's order."
"Must be," Orlene agreed in that same gruff voice.
Jolie looked at her. Now she was sure: the woman had changed. She was using a lower tone, and she seemed a little larger than before. Indeed, her body was more robust. What was happening to her? Jolie decided not to comment until she had a better notion. It might be part of the strangeness of this mountain.
They proceeded up, following the path. But before long there was another threat. A giant bird was coming down the slope, standing taller than either of them, with muscular legs and a thick, ferocious beak.
"What is that?" Orlene asked, taken aback.
Jolie was amazed. "I've had opportunity to do some research into this and that, over the years. That looks like one of the big flightless predator birds of prehistoric times—Diatryma, maybe."
"Is it friendly?"
"Unlikely. They were fearsome hunters."
Orlene glanced to the side. "Maybe I can fight it off with a stick."
"Don't try it!" Jolie cried, aghast. "They strike forward with their legs, to disembowel! Use your wand!"
Orlene hesitated, then brought out the wand. As the bird charged, she invoked it.
There was a harsh, angry squawk. The bird plunged at the expanding darkness. For a moment the malevolent head projected next to Jolie's own. The great beak turned to orient on her face, but Jolie was already ducking down into the cloud. She felt the vertigo.
In a moment they were back inside the mountain and the big bird was gone. Now it was certain: only those for whom the wand was intended could use it. Orlene was the only one who could touch it or invoke it, and Jolie was the only other one it transported. Otherwise the bird would have come with them, for most of its body had been within the cloud.
"I'm going to find a weapon," Orlene said. "I don't want to be caught short again."
Jolie looked at her, dismayed. Now her face was changing, losing its beauty. The jaw line was stronger, and there was a shadow at the chin. Was she reverting to some primitive form? Still, it seemed best not to comment, for there was nothing positive Jolie could say.
Fortunately there was nothing suitable as a weapon. "Damn!" Orlene grunted. "Well, when we go back outside, sure as hell I'll get something."
She was swearing now. She never had before, being indelibly feminine. That suggested a personality change keeping pace with the body change. Was something similar happening to Jolie herself? She didn't feel different, but then Orlene didn't seem to feel different either. It was surely Nox's doing—but why?
As they descended, with Orlene setting a brisk pace, Jolie continued to ponder the matter, ill at ease. Nox was the Incarnation of Night, really an ancient goddess, mistress of secrets and dreams and all things hidden. This was surely a type of dream, crafted for the two of them. But why should Nox bother? It would have been easy for her to make herself entirely unapproachable, or to manifest before the visitors at the outset. Why set this strange mountainous challenge for them? What was the point?
Maybe it was a mischievous game. Parry, now Satan, had mentioned her with a certain awe; it seemed that Nox had a way with men that was not to be denied. Maybe the Incarnation was having idle sport with the two women, seeing fit neither to tempt them nor to banish them. If so, it was getting cruel.
Something was happening, again. There was no sign of the ground glass they had fled before, but as they got farther down, the air was becoming warmer. Jolie saw Orlene sweating, but her pace did not diminish. The woman now had more muscle, and it seemed functional; she was braving the discomfort of the heat as she might a private challenge, showing that it could not daunt her. Jolie would have preferred to avoid any such challenge, but saw no alternative.
"Sheesh, it's hot!" Orlene remarked, wiping her brow with a handful of her tattered blouse, which she carelessly yanked out of her waistband. That exposed her chest.
Jolie was appalled. Orlene had been full-busted, her endowment masked only by her demure manner and conservative mode of dress. Jolie had helped get her dressed after her recovery from her predeath emaciation. Niobe had been the most beautiful woman of her generation; her daughter Orb had fallen not far short of that, and her granddaughter Orlene was close enough. Now Orlene's bra was oddly shrunken. At the same time the muscles of her aims were larger. There was no longer any question: she was changing.
There was a swirl in the air ahead. Dust was being sucked into a whirlwind. Jolie recognized the phenomenon, because of her association with Gaea: it was a heat vortex, part of the mechanism for generating a quick storm. Gaea controlled the elements, and could bring wind or rain or draught to any region she chose. Uncontrolled use of the tools of weather could be hazardous, especially to those in the immediate vicinity.
"We'd better get out of here!" Jolie said. "We don't want to get burned."
"What's with this place?" Orlene demanded rhetorically. "It's one damn thing after another! Let's just see about this twister!" She forged ahead, right toward the vortex.
"Wait!" Jolie cried, alarmed. "That thing's dangerous!"
Indeed, the vortex wasn't waiting to be approached; it was moving right toward them, its winds screaming. Orlene's hair whipped about, and she almost fell as the blast caught her. The wand fell from her pocket and bounced on the ground.
"The wand!" Jolie screamed. "Get the wand!" Orlene saw it. "Christ!" she grunted, diving for it. She caught it. "Invoke!"
The dark cloud formed. The raging wind had no effect on it. Soon they were both within it and wrenching back to the exterior realm.
They were closer to the summit, but Jolie was no longer concerned about that. She was in serious doubt whether this mission should proceed. Not only were the dangers getting worse, Orlene was still changing. Now she was not at all feminine. In fact "Orlene!" Jolie exclaimed. "Have you looked at yourself?"
Orlene glanced at her with irritation. "What are you talking about?"
"You've been changing! The farther we go—no, it must be the wand! Every time you use it, it—"
"Quit stuttering, woman! What's the matter with the wand?"
"It makes you more like a man," Jolie finished, horrified as she realized the direction it was going.
"For chrissake, girl, stop talking nonsense! We've got to get on with this before something else happens."
"Didn't you hear me? That wand is changing you into a man!"
"And you into a monkey!" Orlene retorted, laughing. She started up the path, striding strongly. Her hips had narrowed and her feet grown, making her better at this. Apparently her shoes did not bind.
Jolie stood for a moment, appalled. Orlene refused to recognize how she was changing!
They were looking for Nox, Mistress of Night. This must be a dream sequence, where the most outrageous situations were accepted as given. It was Orlene's dream: Jolie was merely an observer. Thus it seemed that only Jolie could see what was happening.
Should she urge a retreat from this mission? That would probably be wasted effort; if Orlene couldn't see the problem, she wouldn't act to abate it.
Jolie hurried after, soon panting; she certainly wasn't changing! She lacked the muscles and imperative to stride boldly onward. But she was afraid of letting Orlene walk into Nox's den alone.
Another menace appeared. It looked like a mountain goat, but it had three horns—and three legs. Two in front, one in the rear, in each case. Others of its breed followed: there was a flock of them. There was no way to avoid them on this narrowing mountain.
"I've had just about enough of this crap!" Orlene snapped. She stepped off the path, took hold of a struggling sapling, and wrenched it down. Its roots twisted out of the ground, spraying dirt. Orlene gave it another jerk and the remaining roots snapped. She had a serviceable staff.
She turned to face the tri-bucks. "Now charge me, dogmeat!" she cried. "You'll get roots up your nose!"
Jolie, breathless from running, was unable to speak. She was amazed at the strength Orlene had shown in ripping out the tree, and at the sheer aggression she was showing. But there were too many of the odd creatures to fight!
The first creature charged. True to her word, Orlene countered it with the rooty end of her pole. The front pair of horns rammed into the roots and shoved the pole back. Orlene, at the other end, was pushed down the path, cursing. The creature tossed its head, throwing the staff clear, and resumed its advance, the others close behind.
"The wand!" Jolie gasped.
Orlene's lip curled into a snarl, echoed in her throat, but she did bring out the wand. She evidently wanted to fight, but appreciated the odds against victory, so gave way grudgingly. That was, of course, the man's way.
The cloud appeared. In due course they were back inside the mountain, on the descending slope.
Jolie didn't want to look, but had to. Her fear was confirmed: Orlene was another stage more masculine than before, being larger, hairier, and now proportioned like a man. The exposed bra hung pointlessly; there was muscle rather than mammary flesh there now. Was her genital anatomy changing similarly? Jolie was sickly certain that it was.
"Well, come on, cutie, we're almost there," Orlene barked. She forged on down.
Cutie? Jolie liked this least of all. What was Nox trying to do here? What was the point in turning a nice young woman into a brutish man? Was it a joke? It certainly wasn't funny!
Near the bottom of the pit they encountered another hazard. It was cold here, the heat of the prior session gone as if it had never existed. Ice appeared—but it did not stay in place, it moved. Glaciers were developing in the angles between facets, flowing as if liquid, but they were solid. Ice was coming down behind them and wedging together ahead of them. They tried to climb over it, but it was slippery and numbingly cold.
"Damn it!" Orlene exclaimed, slamming a fist into it. A slight patina of cracks appeared at the point of contact, signaling the power of the blow, but that was all. "What is the point of this interference?"
She perceived the external threats but not the internal one! "Nox is playing with us," Jolie said. "Incarnations can be cruel."
"Well, I want to tackle her face to face!" Angrily, Orlene invoked the wand.
When the cloud cleared, they were almost at the peak. The bushes surrounded a small bare region. That was all.
Orlene was now completely male; no vestige of femininity remained, except for the tattered and incongruous clothing. She even had a light beard. But she—Jolie found that designation anomalous, but refused to concede the inner reality of the change—still refused to acknowledge her situation.
Orlene tramped on up to the top. "Well, at least there're no monsters this time," she muttered with rough satisfaction. "But where's Nox?"
Jolie followed. "She may not be here at all. This may merely be her diversion for us, a dream sequence that expends our energies but leads only to futility. The Incarnations can have unusual ways to—"
"Don't give me that noise! I came here to see the bitch, and I'm going to see her! Where is she?"
What an ass her companion had become! But it was pointless, and quite possibly dangerous, to dally here longer. They were in Nox's power, and if they affronted the Incarnation, things could get much worse.
"Nox won't see us unless she chooses to," Jolie said carefully. "I think we should accept the fact that she's not interested, and get off this mountain before we annoy her."
"Listen, doll, whose side are you on?" Orlene demanded. "I didn't come here just to quit! Where the hell is Nox?"
"This isn't wise!" Jolie said pleadingly. But Orlene turned with masculine arrogance and gestured at the sky with a fist. "A pox on Nox!" she bellowed. "Get your ass down here. Incarnation!"
Horrified, Jolie grabbed at Orlene's arm. "You mustn't!"
Orlene turned, trying to shake her off, but Jolie clung.
She had to get them away from here before something terrible happened!
Then Orlene's eye fell directly on Jolie. Her mouth pursed appraisingly. "Say, I never realized what a piece you are. C'mere, girl." Her muscular arm came around to catch at Jolie's free arm.
Suddenly Jolie was being hauled in and lifted by a body much stronger than hers. "What—?"
"Gimme a kiss!" And their faces were together.
"Stop that!" Jolie cried, amazed and dismayed. She fought to get free, and managed to twist one arm away.
But Orlene didn't stop. She grabbed again, this time catching at Jolie's skirt. Jolie tried to spin away, but the hold on the skirt inhibited her motion, and she fell.
Orlene went down with her, pinning her to the ground. There was no longer any question about the hidden anatomy: it was male and functioning. Jolie realized that the situation was already beyond protest; she was unable to dissipate in ghostly fashion here, and she had either to fight free or fail to. Why hadn't she taken warning when she saw the changes occurring in her companion?
She could, of course, revert back to her drop of blood. But would Orlene come with her—and if so, would she revert back to her original form and nature? Jolie didn't dare risk it. She fought, but knew she was losing.
Then a cloud formed, not black but white, its vapors swirling internally. "What is this?"
"Nox!" Jolie cried, recognizing the strange, soundless way the Incarnation spoke. She had never seen Nox before, but Parry had described it.
Orlene paused, looking up. "The bitch is here?"
"Come to me, man-thing."
Orlene got up. She stared at the Incarnation. The mists formed into a phenomenal woman-shape, naked and beckoning, with writhing tresses of vapor and two compelling dark eyes.
Orlene walked into the shape, embracing it. Her loins thrust and thrust again, and the form wrapped itself about her. The face kissed her ardently. The merged forms floated from the ground, not noticing in their preoccupation.
Jolie's amazement was admixed with disgust. Orlene had tried to rape her, and now was having sex with Nox! How could she ever forgive either of them for such a thing? She had only tried to help a woman find her lost baby!
"There is much you do not understand" Nox said to her directly.
"There is much I do not care to understand!" Jolie retorted, made bold by her shock.
"Here is part of it."
Then Orlene emerged from the white cloud, her female form restored. She stood there, her mouth opening in an 'O' of wonder, horror and dismay.
Simultaneously, Jolie felt herself change. Suddenly she lusted after the woman who stood before her, her passion so compelling that it admitted of no interference. She strode toward Orlene.
Only to be intercepted by the cloud. "Love me instead," Nox said. Her female aspect was the most utterly arousing and inviting thing imaginable, making any human body hopelessly crude and clumsy.
Jolie stepped into it, her member stiffening. She plunged into Nox—and found herself floating, unable to achieve the culmination. The frustration was maddening.
Then the cloud dissipated, depositing her on the ground. "Remember!" Nox cautioned.
The two women stood looking at each other. Both were fully female again, each appalled.
"Oh, Jolie," Orlene said. "I don't know what—I cannot ask you to forgive me—I am so ashamed—"
Understanding was coming. "Nox made you into a man," Jolie said. "And you were overwhelmed by male passion."
"But you were my companion, my friend! How could I—"
Jolie would not have understood, except for the brief lesson Nox had given her. If Orlene, unwarned, had run rampant, what of Jolie, who had seen it all—and run rampant herself the moment the Incarnation afflicted her with the same complaint? She was the one who truly knew better, yet she had been helpless before her abrupt desire.
"It seems that men have passions that women do not," Jolie said. "I have indulged those passions in my own man without ever really understanding their nature—until now."
"But men do not—" Orlene faltered, unable to say the word.
"They have learned control. We did not have time. Like a fire which bums out of control when untended—"
"Remember," Nox repeated, her semblance returning.
"How can I endure this shame?" Orlene exclaimed and collapsed.
Jolie ran to her, finding her unconscious. For the moment, that was a relief. "Why did you play with us, Incarnation of Night?" she asked, no longer concerned about manners.
"You have much to learn." That, it seemed, was the extent of the answer they were to have.
"She came to recover her baby, Gaw-Two," Jolie said. "Please, Incarnation, return him to her, now that you have humiliated us."
"I have her baby," Nox agreed. "I lent her his semblance as he will be when grown."
Orlene, stirring, reacted as if struck. Jolie, appreciating her horror, interceded. "A man—like his father."
"No!" Orlene cried in anguish. "Norton is not like that!"
"Like Gawain!" Jolie exclaimed, catching on. "His genetics were changed!"
"Like Gawain," Nox agreed. "As he will be, grown naturally."
"But he died of a genetic malady!"
"Which continues in his Afterlife." Orlene was horrified anew. "My baby—still diseased! Out of control!"
"Leave him to me," Nox offered. "I can control him." That was yet another horror. Orlene fainted again.
"Not that way!" Jolie protested, "Give him back to her; we will cure him somehow!"
"Not readily. His soul has been tarnished; he can never exist free without extensive revamping."
"She'll do whatever needs to be done!" Jolie cried.
"Then you must obtain items from each of the current major Incarnations," Nox said. "Fail in any, and it is lost."
"She won't fail in any!" Jolie promised.
"Here is the list. From Death, a blank soul, that the spoiled one may be reimplanted on a clean sheet, lacking the fatal flaw. From Time, a grain of sand from the Hourglass, that time may be reversed for the transfer. From Fate, a thread of life, to realign the one spoiled. From War, a seed, to generate the violence inherent in man as a healthy competitive spirit. From Nature, a tear, to restore animation in the newly implanted soul. From Evil, a curse, to put the fear of evil into the soul. From Good, a blessing, for this can be done only with that blessing."
Jolie listened, aghast. That was an impossible list!
But she couldn't give up on Orlene! "And when she gets these things, then you will restore her baby to her?"
"Then will I restore him," Nox pledged.
"She'll do it!" But Jolie, experienced in the ways of Incarnations, knew that it would be the miracle of the millennium if she succeeded. No wonder Nox had sought to discourage Orlene, by physical and emotional challenge; it would have been better if she had given up on her quest.
Then Nox faded out, and after her the mountain, too, and great dark mists swirled up to mask everything. When they cleared, the two were standing back at the fringe of Purgatory, just before the path diverged from Clotho's path. In fact, the path they had followed no longer existed.