Jenny wondered if Gizelle had forgotten about her. The tiny woman had demonstrated a shift into her gazelle form, then wandered away to nibble on the grass without a backwards glance. Currently, she was grazing earnestly across the little lawn where they had been meeting every day, ostensibly for Jenny to practice shifting.
Most days, Gizelle had Jenny shift several times, repeating her advice about thinking as the form she was aiming for, not about the form she was aiming for. Jenny’s shifts had grown less painful, but she still dreaded them, and she was still never fully human.
This time, her fingers had no webbing, but the short, no-nonsense claws at
the ends pressed little divets into her palms when she clenched her fists.
Jenny sighed and lay back in the prickly grass, looking up into sky. It was blue and clear, and the sun beat down with even more strength than the Californian sun. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a breeze, and the early afternoon was sweltering. Jenny fanned the bottom of her sundress to cool her sweaty legs. Maybe she should bring a lawn chair out with her next time; the grass prickled distractingly at her skin, making her think of her otter’s coarse fur.
She wondered if lynx fur was softer, and suspected it was. Laura had told her everything she knew about Travis, without Jenny asking. Her sister was clearly more excited about her mate than Jenny was, and seemed puzzled that Jenny as still trying to avoid him.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want him; she couldn’t sleep at night without imagining him beside her. She fantasized about touching his golden-brown skin, running fingers through his short, thick hair, had to try to keep her mind from wandering to still dirtier topics.
Abruptly, there was a big deer-like face right above her, blocking the sunlight. Spiraled horns curving dangerously back from between her bell-like ears.
Gizelle snuffled at her, then shifted like mercury into her human form, crouching beside Jenny. “Are you napping?” She was so close that her long, wild hair tickled Jenny, and she didn’t move back much when Jenny sat upright. She had an odd sense of personal space, Jenny had found, sometimes so close that it was uncomfortable, sometimes keeping so much space between them that conversation was awkward.
“No, I’m not napping,” Jenny assured her, though she’d been comfortable enough that she might have.
“Oh good! Let’s practice!”
Gizelle jumped to her feet in one fluid move, while Jenny stood up more carefully.
“Go!” Gizelle commanded, startling Jenny.
She shifted obediently, braced for the discomfort, and a few moments later was shaking off the last of the pain and scampering on four small feet in grass that suddenly seemed very tall.
A fleet-footed gazelle danced easily with her, leaping high into the air, then stomped an imperious foot and was standing as a human.
Jenny drew a deep breath into her capable otter lungs and tried to keep Gizelle’s advice in mind. She thought about what it was like to be a human, how much taller she was, focusing on fingers without webbing or claws. She remembered what it was like to type on a computer keyboard, how long and nimble her hands could be. She ignored her otter, who scoffed and protested that otter fingers were just as clever.
Then she was panting with the effort and looking in triumph at her fingers.
They were her fingers again, free from each other and with her old familiar short fingernails.
“I did it,” Jenny gasped, feeling exhausted with the effort. “I did it!”
Gizelle was looking at her curiously. “I… suppose,” she said reluctantly.
“I feel like I ran a marathon,” Jenny confessed, feeling a little deflated by Gizelle’s lack of enthusiasm.
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Gizelle said. “Can’t you feel the power around you to shift with?”
“Power?”
Gizelle put on what Jenny was recognizing as her teacher face. “It takes energy to shift, of course. But it shouldn’t have to come from your own reserves. There is power all around you to draw on, just reach out and use it whenever you need. You should only have to focus.”
Was that a feature of all places, Jenny wondered, or just this particular strange island?
Gizelle continued, her expression growing distant and her voice taking on a sing-song tone. “There are wells of power that make the sunless sky, and they can make prison walls or set you free with the right key. Drink it down and you can taste the future and touch the chains that hold the world together…”
Jenny watched her with concern. “Gizelle?” She asked tentatively, hoping to distract her from the trance she was in.
Gizelle ignored her. “Voices of power. Spells set in violence and chaos. Prisons. Things that shouldn’t be disturbed…”
Sometimes Gizelle seemed normal enough that it was easy to forget that she had spent many of her formative years imprisoned and forced to remain in her animal form. And then there were these fugue states, when she ceased to make sense. It was hypnotic, sometimes more than just figuratively. Jenny reached up to pinch her neck and keep from falling into the spell with her.
The side of her face exploded in sensation, and Jenny flinched away in alarm and surprise, yelping out loud.