NOVEL NEXT v2 CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO: In which magical safeguards are lowered at the expense of clothing and identity.
The two black-clad agents left campus late that afternoon, flanking a student who, to all appearances, was an attractive young lady with long blonde hair. She wore a preppy blazer and blouse cut to fit her unmistakably feminine frame, a plaid miniskirt whose ruffles barely covered the round swell of her derriere, and a pair of white thigh-high stockings. Black high-top canvas sneakers were the lone remnants of formerly masculine attire, but even these had risen into platform shoes that added several centimeters to the height of her slender frame.
“So we’re going to Bethany Carlisle’s place?” Susan eyed the feminized teaching assistant. “Even though you’re sure it wasn’t her?”
Ryan rolled his perfectly lined blue eyes and tugged at a bra strap, wincing as the unfamiliar garment pinched, then set his new breasts to bouncing. “Yeah, it’s not Carlisle. She’s smart, but basically a sheep, and she couldn’t argue her way out of a wet paper bag.”
Una snorted. “And that’s why you challenged her to a debate?”
Ryan stopped, tilted his newly blonde head, and put his fists on his hips: the picture of a sassy sorority sister. “The debate was her idea. Professor Berglund hadn’t shown up for a week, so we made a plan to do…” He shrugged his slender shoulders. “Something?”
Susan shook her head. “Cut to the chase, kiddo. We might be short on time. Who’s the girlfriend? We heard you were arguing with a goth girl.”
Ryan blanched and nodded, taking mincing steps to avoid stumbling. “Her name’s Autumn. She dresses like some spooky chick out of a 90s comic book. And I’d bet my whole crypto wallet that she’s behind this. She basically threatened to curse me so I’d see a woman’s point of view, and now…” He gestured down at his curvaceous body and the skirt that barely covered it.
Una’s lips twitched, but she repressed a smile. “And have you learned anything so far?”
The student nearly threw his designer handbag at the ground. “I’ve learned that everyone’s staring at me, and that my whole body keeps… moving around. Bouncing like I’m made of water balloons or something. Can we just hurry and get there? It’s another five blocks.” Ryan winced. “And we have to cross over the highway. Every drive in every car just… staring at this stupid girl-body…”
Ryan tried to stride forward confidently, but ended up tripping and nearly twisting his ankle. “Fuck! These huge shoes! I hate them. They’re totally useless.”
Susan and Una exchanged a glance. “Well… you could take them off, or I could carry you,” offered Una.
“What, like a baby or something?” The transformed student’s eyes widened. “No fucking way! As if I’m not humiliated enough already! And I can’t take them off. This shitty neighborhood’s littered with broken glass!”
Ryan glared at Susan, his feminine features twisted in a snarl. “Aren’t you guys from the magic office? Can’t you transform these shoes into flats, or levitate me, or make it easier to walk?”
Susan’s expression remained neutral. “You make it sound like spells and incantations are just something anyone can whip out at will, at no price. But if you really want, I can adjust that choker’s clasp and lighten the shielding from the curse.”
Ryan froze, looking alarmed. “Wait… you mean making me change more? No… no way!”
Susan steepled her fingers on her forehead. “No… ugh, how do I explain this? I can’t do anything to stop or reverse your physical changes—not until we locate the source the aetheric warp has flowed from. The amulet shields your self-conception from being overwritten by the changes the curse made to your skein, the fabric of your destiny.”
Una made a clucking sound with her tongue, and Susan knew her explanation had gotten too technical. Ryan stared at her with wide eyes. “Think of it this way, Ryan: the amulet keeps you from completely believing you’re Rian, which is what was happening when we found you. But if I loosen the clasp screw, you’ll get a little more… Rian-like?”
Ryan looked as if a thousand thoughts were rushing through his head. “I won’t get stuck in the wrong body forever, will I?”
The shorter government agent shook her head. “We’ll take care of it… one way or another.” She glimpsed Una standing on the other side of the student and saw the succubus’ concerned look. Don’t worry, babe, Susan thought, although without the benefit of Jay’s special earpieces to let them communicate. I won’t make you transform this kid back with a sex ritual…
She put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “First, we have to find Autumn if there’s any chance to break the curse effect directly. So, do you want to be carried, or should I lighten the shielding?”
Ryan sighed, and the buttons of his blouse strained. Susan tried not to glance down. He’s barely old enough to drink, and just transformed, she chided herself. Even if he looks exactly like a rich, snotty Westchester debutante who needs me to tan her ass a few times… Nope! Bad Susan!
Ryan’s eyes flashed; for a moment, he seemed like his usual arrogant self again. “I guess… I guess you’d better just loosen this thing up a bit, then. Can you undo it, like… two percent, or something?” He touched the collar with a slim hand.
“Sure, hold still,” Susan instructed, and moved around to lift Ryan’s mass of blonde waves away from the choker’s clasp. “This shouldn’t hurt, but you might feel a funny buzz.”
Ryan shivered, and his eyes closed. “Ohhh… wow. This is like, crazy weird…” He blinked. “Like, I know I’m actually supposed to be Ryan, but I’m… oh, this is majorly messed up! I’m not him. I’m Rian. No, I’m Rian, not Rian… but Rian’s not even real? Am I?” The student’s expression became confused and frightened, but also slightly amazed.
The changed TA lifted a hand in front of his face, flexing the fingers, then gasped in horror. Una started, her arms tense, but then Rian spoke. “Oh my god! I can’t believe I screwed up this manicure already? There’s dirt under my nails.” She sniffed, then wrinkled her pert little nose. “Ew, and my lippy’s faded. I need to freshen up. Like, now.”
Una and Susan watched in amazement as the newly girlish Rian dug into her purse. “Where is my compact? I swear, if it’s gone, I will literally kill whatever bitch took it.” She pulled out a small, mirrored disk with a brush of pink powder on one half. “Thank goodness!”
“Can we go now, please?!” Susan nearly reached out and grabbed Rian’s wrist before stopping herself. Rian’s eyes were wide and startled, seeming to come back to herself.
“Oh… yes, of course. I can’t stay like this. I can’t!” Rian shuddered and looked down the street. “All right, Rian. You can do this. I can touch up on the way.” She set off down the sidewalk, her stride in the platform heels becoming more fluid with each step. Susan and Una exchanged another glance before hurrying to catch up; Rian expertly adjusted the hem of her short skirt with one free hand to prevent any unfortunate flashes of underwear.
***
Rian lifted her hand, palm up and wrist bent, towards a six-story brick apartment building. “See? I told you this neighb was totally sketch. I didn’t even need to bother with makeup. It’s not like anyone around here is gonna notice if I look like a complete potato.” Her lip curled, and she flipped her hair over one shoulder.
As they approached the entryway, the scholar held a hand up. “There’s something… strange here.” She turned in place, frowning. “I might need to run a scan…”
Rian waved impatiently, already halfway up the steps. “Come on! I’ve been walking in these stupid shoes long enough. Let’s go!” As she passed the threshold to the lobby, the air seemed to ripple for a moment, like heat shimmering above a hot sidewalk.
Susan exhaled, a low hiss of frustration. “Knew I smelled something. Stand back, my love.” She extended two fingertips across the boundary, and sparks danced in the air, crackling. When she pulled her hand back, the skin was red, as if she’d burned herself on the stove.
Una gasped, but Susan only frowned and shook her fingers as the flesh healed in a shimmer of golden light. “Rian’s able to enter, but it’s obviously warded against me—I’m guessing the same would go for you, my dear.”
Although Una didn’t want to singe her flesh, seeing as she didn’t have quite the regenerative powers of her angelic partner, she raised her palm close to the invisible barrier. Sure enough, a tracery of white light appeared around her hand, and pain blossomed on her fingertips. “Ouch. That’s definitely… something.”
“I told you, that mousy little goth bitch knows magic. But why did it let me through?” Rian brought a hand to her mouth. “Is it because… I’m, like, part-magical or something?”
Susan shook her head and dropped her bag on the floor. “Closer to the opposite; we’re the ones being kept out. You just stay there… I think I have a way through this barrier.” She pulled an odd tool from her bag, something like a sickle fashioned of dark iron, and held it towards Una. “Hold this a moment!”
Una took the tool and inspected it. The lower end, unbroken by any hilt or handle, had a shape similar to an athame, a kind of ritual knife used in ceremonial spell-casting. At the upper half, however, the tool curved into a circular blade, with an edge on the interior arc that looked sharp enough to slice through meat and bone. The metal was pitted and pockmarked, as if etched by acid or some other chemical corrosion, and the whole blade was unusually cold to the touch.
“What is this? Something to cut through magical barriers?” Una’s eyes glowed yellow, and she peered closely. “I can sense the magic, but I’m no expert…”
“The Arctavo of Guiseppe Malvezzi, forged from meteorite metal. It’s actually a replica, forged by Malvezzi in an attempt to rediscover the ancient techniques of the al-khyar bladesmiths. He didn’t do a poor job on the magic-cutting properties, even if the shape’s a little impractical and nowhere near accurate.”
On the other side of the barrier, Rian coughed in outrage. “What is even going on, ladies? Should you really be, like, getting naked in public?” Absorbed in her scholarly lover’s digression, Una hadn’t noticed Susan stripping down until she stood in the middle of the lobby, wearing only a white dress shirt and her black silk underwear.
“Not that I mind, but…” Una began. Susan winked, dropped her black loafers into her bag, and deftly unhooked her bra before sliding it out from beneath her shirt.
“That’s probably enough. Rian’s right, we’re practically outside. Plus, I don’t want to lose a decent suit, and I’m fond of this bra.” She placed it in Una’s hand, exchanging the silky undergarment for the strange, hook-shaped ritual blade, then slid her duffel bag across the floor towards the succubus. “Be ready to toss that to Rian, please!”
Una gave her partner a deep nod, with a slight smile that Susan recognized: her dark mistress felt a thrill of pride at seeing Susan take charge of a dangerous, unpredictable situation, and the knowledge of Una’s admiration filled her heart.
Susan tied her hair up and took three deep, calming breaths, feeling the power flow into and out of her core. She pressed the hooked blade into her palm, rotating it until blood welled up around it. With the blade wetted, and her hand automatically sealing the slice with minute threads of golden energy, she approached the building’s boundary and crouched, readying herself. “Extendum manum super spiritum et divide,” she whispered, passing her lips over the dark metal.
With a shout reminiscent of a martial kihap, the scholar leaped into the air, swinging the blade over her head in a high arc, then slicing downwards through the suddenly visible, ripping wall of energy. A line of darkness, like the afterimage of the sun, followed the path of the blade, creating a rent in the air that was difficult to look at.
Susan landed in a crouch, bringing the blade to meet the floor in a crackle of sparks, then swiveled her hand to pull the Arctavo back up the line of division until she stood with the hook entangled in the otherworldly fabric of the mystic barrier, somehow pulling it open with the cold, meteoric hook.
“Quickly,” Susan grunted, then began chanting a series of syllables that echoed in the confines of the lobby like peals of distant church bells. The scholar leaned back, using her weight and strength to yank the barrier open. The rip seemed to want to close itself, but she held it fast, the muscles of her arms and legs standing in sharp relief, the tendons of her throat cording, and her eyes flickering with a faint, golden radiance.
Una stepped forward with Susan’s bag, bra dangling out of the top. “Catch,” she barked, and threw the bag to Rian. The student caught it with an awkward grab, her arms wrapping around the bag as she stared in astonishment at the spectacle in front of her.
Una swallowed once and stepped sidelong through the gap, trying to ignore the prickly feeling of the barrier’s energy as it brushed past her, leaving her skin cold and tingling. “I’m through, Suze,” she announced, then turned and saw the strain on her girlfriend’s features.
“Get back,” Susan growled through clenched teeth. Una did so, and as she moved backwards, bumping into Rian, Susan swung herself around and through the gap, still trying to keep the rent in space open with one extended arm. The barrier sealed itself with startling force and speed, catching Susan’s arm and lower torso as she dove through the narrowing gap, stumbling and falling onto the chipped tile floor. Energy burned across her flesh with a horrible, sizzling noise.
The scholar cried out in agony as she fell. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Susan clutched her forearm to her chest as the smell of scorched cloth, skin and flesh permeated the room, and Una rushed to her partner.
“Let me look.” Una’s voice was steady as she examined the damage. Susan’s right arm, which still held the blade, had been thoroughly seared. The flesh was angry-red and smoking, the sleeve of her dress shirt charred and torn. From the left side of her hip down to her feet, third-degree burns covered her skin; the nauseating scent of cooked meat and burning hair filled the air. The scholar’s breath came in short, shallow pants, and tears streamed down her face.
“This… this fucking hurts…more… more than I expected.” Susan’s mouth curved into a wry grin, and she let out a single, choked chuckle.
Una shook her head, her own eyes watering. “Please, just heal yourself, love.” The scholar nodded and closed her eyes.
“Are you two for real right now? This is next-level cray! She’s… she’s going to fucking die if we don’t call an ambulance!” Rian had dropped Susan’s bag, and had her hands to the sides of her head, her eyes fixed on the terrible wounds on Susan’s body.
Susan exhaled, and the smell of burned hair and flesh faded, replaced by the warm, clean aroma of fresh linen. Golden light suffused her skin, flowing down her body from the unburnt skin to each damaged patch of flesh, knitting together the scorched tissue and replacing the destroyed layers with new skin and muscle. The light flowed up Susan’s body to her neck, then her face, where it seemed to sink into her skull and disappear.
The scholar opened her eyes, and her eyes shone with the brightness of gold. “Restoration ample. Re-initiate standard schema,” Susan said in a pleasant, bland monotone. Then she blinked, and her irises faded to normal. She looked down at herself; her shirt was ruined, crumbling to cinders at the edge of the shoulder, and her underwear hung loosely around her hips, one side having torn away.
“It worked!” Susan looked pleased with herself and sat up, stretching her arms and legs to examine them. Her skin was pale and flawless. “Rian, can you hand me my clothes, please?”
The girl’s eyes bulged. “What? Like, oh em gee, what? How did—I’ve literally never seen anything like that. You’re incredible.”
Una grabbed the duffel bag from near Rian’s feet and handed Susan her bra, suit and shoes, then glared gently at the student. “I know it looks impressive, but believe me… it has some drawbacks.”
