Let’s go run around on those human legs you love so much, her otter suggested. Maybe go swimming at the beach.
I’m a little naked, Jenny reminded her, accepting Gizelle’s offered hands and climbing to her feet.
I know, her otter purred back at her, full of mischief. Images of admiring men accompanied the rejoinder. Jenny felt her skin heat, hating herself for how the idea stirred in her loins.
“How do you do this?” Jenny demanded of Gizelle, standing unsteadily.
“I know, it’s weird there’s only two of them,” Gizelle said comfortingly.
“Only two?” Jenny asked. Were there shifters with more than one extra voice?
“You just have to shift your weight between each one, and not think about it too much to keep your balance.”
When Jenny looked blankly at her, Gizelle scampered away and ran in a circle. “Like this!” she called merrily.
“You meant legs,” Jenny realized. “Only two legs.”
Returning, Gizelle said, “Of course I meant legs. What else would I mean?”
“I thought you meant voices,” Jenny said, feeling foolish.
“There are always more than two voices,” Gizelle said solemnly, eyes big in her face.
Jenny had just started feeling like things made sense, and then suddenly she didn’t again. She could feel her otter’s amusement, and shunted it away. “There’s more?” she said unhappily. She could barely stand otter’s demanding voice, should she expect more of them?
“Voices that whisper. Voices in the sky with no sun. Feathered voices. Voices that-”
“Gizelle,” said a new voice, gently chiding.
Jenny turned, half-crouching, and nearly let her otter take control of her skin again instinctively. No! she thought fiercely, fighting to stay in human skin.
The red-haired woman from the night before stood at the opening in the hedge by the white path. She was neatly dressed, and Jenny was relieve
d to see that she was holding a summery dress.
It was her own dress, Jenny realized, and more memories flooded back. Laura, her twin, had come to the resort pretending to be Jenny, and of course she would have packed Jenny's clothing for the trip.
Naked would be more fun, her otter pouted at her.
Jenny ignored the voice.
“I’m Scarlet,” the woman said, handing her the dress and looking politely aside while Jenny struggled to put it on. “I run Shifting Sands.”
Jenny, still trying to work out how to get her head through the neckhole and feeling stumped by the armholes, was keenly aware of Gizelle staring at her.
“Gizelle,” Scarlet said kindly.
“She’s really bad at that,” Gizelle said frankly.
“I need you to help Graham in the upper gardens, please.” Scarlet’s tone made it sound less like a request and more like a royal command.
Triumphant at last over the openings in the dress, Jenny pulled it fiercely down over her generous curves.
“Bye!” said Gizelle merrily, and she skipped off across the lawn and out the way Scarlet had come. Her footsteps were quiet on the gravel, and Jenny realized she was barefoot.
“I apologize for Gizelle,” Scarlet said, sounding not the slightest bit apologetic. “She has taken great interest in you.”
“She’s not neurotypical, is she,” Jenny observed. It felt ironic to say so, since she felt so much less than normal herself.