CHAPTER THREE: THE NORTHERN STAIR

"Three rams to Bardon, whose valor and fury hath rewarded,
and five to Astrilla, our goddess most high,
in power and in victory am I vindicated."
-Eusculus Intrepidus, Imperator Rex

Much like in the village of Rouentz, in the town of Nortsair, nobody quite remembered how the settlement got its name. Had they been on that spot eight hundred years before, they might have seen the Emperor Eusculus Intrepidus returning from his successful campaign in Ascula, a host of forty thousand soldiers behind him, and ascending the great North Stair. There, he and his commanders climbed to the great plateau of temples in what is now called the Barren Bones, where he made offerings to Astrilla, patron goddess of the great city, and Bardon, god of battle, honor, and valor. But now, nobody knew of Eusculus Intrepidus, Astrilla, or Bardon. Only a handful of learned men and women even knew of the great empire they came from, nor the series of calamities that rendered its seat of power a wilderness for five centuries.

As they wandered through the woods, Theo followed after Heath, who seemed to be of very keen eye. Sometimes, one or both of the others were in front, and sometimes Theo had to slow to avoid overtaking the boy - young man, really, for Heath no longer looked a mere fifteen. Nor, Theo imagined, did he look his forty years. If the smooth hands and that black hair, with no hint of brown or gray, were any judge, he looked a decade or more younger. And five stone or so lighter - lighter than he'd been since puberty. He counted the animals he saw, realizing with a start that he was cataloging tens of tens without much thought.

"Do you know the numbers past ten?" he asked no one in particular.

Larian laughed. "Doesn't everybody?"

Theo shrugged. "Say them for me, please."

She indulged him, counting out to twenty and then listing the groups of ten up through a hundred.

"What's after hundred?"

"After a hundred?" she asked, and then counted the hundreds up to a thousand, and then the thousands out to a thousand thousand. "A thousand thousand has a special name," she said. "I can't remember it off-hand... it doesn't come up much."

"Million?" Heath called back.

Larian snapped her fingers. "That's it. A million. And I suppose you can go up to a million million, whatever that might be called."

A million million. That was more numbers than Theo had ever known existed. He'd known you could count to ten lots of times, but not about the universe of numbers beyond. He thought about that as they walked, as they passed the tree-choked ruins of ancient buildings, the crumbled mossy edifices of a buried city. He put numbers on hold when they came to a river, the bridge for which had long since gone to ruin. They climbed across the stones, with Theo marveling that he surely weighed less than Cano and couldn't have been much larger than Heath. Larian, if anything, seemed smaller than before, though her slenderness belied strong, nimble limbs that had her dancing across the rocks as if they were stepping-stones and waiting for the rest of them on the other side.

"These aren't the same clothes I had before," she observed, flapping the frilled hem of her dark blue dress. It had been a paler blue before, and plainer, with worn patches, mud, and sweat. And she hadn't had a hat before. It was flat and broad, the same color as most of her dress, and was held in place by her jeweled hairpin. "And I'm not the only one."

That was a good point. Theo would have stepped right out of his old shoes at that point, his slender, tapering feet dwarfed by shoes made for the stocky, stubby feet he'd tromped through with the other day. His dusty brown clothes, mended a dozen times, had darkened to a deep umber ensemble that fit his slighter form perfectly, and the dark leather boots his shoes had become wrapped way up his feet, almost up to his knees.

"Did anybody notice theirs change?" he asked - and that was another change. Theo couldn't remember the last time he'd asked a question before... whatever it was that had happened to them. Most probably, his last question had been muttering 'Here?' to confirm where to drive a post, deposit a heavy item, or wait for further instructions.

"I didn't," Cano said. "But every once in a while, I've noticed something different about what you three are wearing. Like... Heath has a bow now."

"A nice one, too," Heath beamed. "No arrows, though... not yet."

They continued for another mile or so, with Theo taking stock of himself and the others whenever the thought crossed his mind. He had mixed feelings on the whole process - being transformed by some magical force that he didn't remotely understand was a bit unsettling... but the fact that he was able to frame the problem in complex ways was a first. It felt like a long-dammed levee within his mind had burst and ideas were suddenly rushing free. He was so caught up in thought that he didn't notice that they'd come out of the woodland road some minutes before and were walking upon a broad and well-tended path. He didn't notice until Heath shushed them and pulled them aside, for someone was trundling down the road behind them.

+++++

"Oi! What are you three doing back there?" one of the men in the cart called.

They'd been too late in hiding, and were only five yards back into the woods, to boot. The cart had pulled up right alongside them. It wasn't the best attempt at evasion ever, or even in the top five. The man had only spotted the three of them, though.

"Um... hello," Cano said. He stepped out and the rest of them followed - no point in hiding now.

"I told you they weren't bandits, Matthias," the driver said, a bearded man not quite at middle-age.

Matthias, the man riding in the back of the cart, was younger, handsomer - dark-eyed, olive-skinned, and a few days past clean-shaven. "They aren't bandits, Nero," he agreed. "What are you? Wandering players? Headed for the masquerade?"

"Why would you say that?" Larian asked, though Theo could guess at why - in Larian's case, what young woman wore a frilly, form-fitting robe in the middle of the woods, much less with a scholar's cap and a bejeweled pin?

Nero cleared his throat. "Well, madam, your friend's dressed as Robin Brindle-hair - that's clear enough, isn't it? The brindle hair is sort of a give away... unless you're the real Robin." He chuckled. "And your brother there is Brave Bardo, what with the sword and golden shirt. Which would make you two... hmm..."

"Lara the Learned?" Matthias posited.

"Hmm... with the scholar's cap? I think you're right. And the last one's got to be... Astra Stargazer. With the sparklies in your hair, it has to be. Did I get it right, madam?"

It took Theo a moment to realize that he was the 'madam' even though Nero had been directly addressing him. Theo was still a 'he', but that might be a very temporary arrangement - he'd been gradually changing throughout their trek and he had no reason to think the changes were stopping, or even slowing. Realizing his failure to respond had made things awkward, he blushed.

"I'm sure you're right, sir," he said.

"Sir! Did you get that Matthias?" Nero jostled his companion with his elbow.

Matthias nodded and laughed, his dark and curled hair shaking about his head. "If you're a sir, I'm a duke," he said. He stood and bowed theatrically. "Thank you for entertaining two roving merchants. Are you four heading for Nortsair by any chance?"

They were, of course, and told the two men as much. Nero offered them a ride, and Matthias seconded the motion, and a minute later, the four of them were trundling right along with the Mendic brothers. The two men even offered to vouch for them for passage into the town in recompense for their companionship on the trip. Though, Theo realized with a start, Matthias was especially interested in Larian's attentions, shifting his glance her way, eyes flitting over her face, and over the tight bodice of her robe. It was more of a dress, really, save that it had flared sleeves and a little hood - which hadn't been there a few minutes before. And, more than once, Matthias's eyes flitted Theo's way, as well. He offered the most noncommittal smile he could.

"We're dressed as characters," Larian mentioned perhaps twenty minutes later. "We were given directions by our uncle in Nortsair, who offered to vouch for us and host us in the city... only I haven't any clue who we're supposed to be. You said I'm Lara the Learned? Who's that?"

Matthias chuckled. "That's a good question. The reverent would say an ancient saint whose true name we've since forgot. The superstitious would say a spirit. Me? I say it's probably an old tale distorted a dozen times across the centuries, stories of some long-dead witch... I assume you're not a witch?"

Larian laughed. "I wouldn't know the first thing about being a witch. Wouldn't I need an animal servant?"

Nero nodded. "Aye, and a pact with the Beast. So it's said."

"And the others... they're all fictional characters of the same sort, are they?" Cano asked. His voice had grown deeper across the day.

"They are," Matthias said.

Nero wasn't so sure. He wagged his finger and clucked. "Robin Brindle-hair is real as they come, rewarding canny travelers and jesting with braggarts and fools, getting them lost and scared for reasons I don't quite know. I'd bet my reputation on his being real..."

"Those are small stakes," Matthias said, and even Theo had a laugh at that.

+++++

Nortsair was the largest town that Theo had ever seen. Granted, he'd only ever seen Rouentz, and also Attist that one time, which was an even smaller village. Nortsair, though, boasted several thousand people, all of them housed within the walls of an ancient fort. The farms of homesteaders dotted the countryside for miles around, but Nortsair itself sat on the edge of the forest and atop a large and gentle hill that sloped up even farther to the Barren Bones some miles distant. Even the gates of the town were big, massive things of wood and iron - if they'd had defenses like those in Rouentz, they could have just told the raiders to fuck off and meant it.

"It's huge," Theo said, craning his neck to take in the size of the town.

"So I've been told," Nero chuckled - Theo didn't get the joke.

They negotiated passage into town with the gate guards - they recognized the Mendic brothers and waived the gate fee on account of their excellent company. The streets inside were cramped and smelly, and sometimes they had to wait for carts coming the other way to pass before they could traverse the narrower passages. Old stone towers patched with age and newer ones cobbled with wood and masonry, cramped clusters of buildings pressed up, three... four... some of them five stories tall. Theo wondered why anybody would live in such cramped, unpleasant conditions, but reasoned that safety and peace of mind were worth an awful lot.

"This is our stop," Matthias said. He hopped from the cart and started unhitching their pair of horses. "You four are staying with your uncle, you said?"

"If we can find him," Larian said. She looked to the other three and shrugged. "To be honest, we only came because we wanted to enlist help against some raiders who sacked our town." She picked at the regal blue of her dress. "All of this was kind of impromptu."

"Then you'll want to speak with him quickly... no doubt, he's on or close to the council and can get you your help. What's his name? I'd be surprised if I haven't at least heard of every bastard in town... unless he's brand new."

"Bestel Myrdon."

Nero laughed. "That ratty bastard? The way you four are dressed, I reckoned it would be a proper nob and not His Majesty, Bestel Myrdon, Lord of Trinkets. Has he even got guest rooms?"

"I doubt it," Matthias said. "And he definitely hasn't got sway at the council. You'd be lucky if he sends his poor donkey to help, let alone petitions and pays for armed men. But we Mendics have got a guest room, and we have got invitations to the masquerade. Why don't you stay here tonight as our guests, and tomorrow we can find your uncle at the party... assuming he even shows up. What do you say?"

"That's a very generous offer," Cano said. "We would be in your debt."

"A favor now for a favor later, and maybe friendship, and maybe profit," Nero Mendic mused. "As our father always states: a favor that costs me nothing is money in the bank. Welcome to our home."

+++++

The Mendics lived in the largest house that Theo had ever seen. He'd always assumed that rich people lived in large houses, but the Mendics didn't even appear to be that rich and their house was huge. It had a kitchen, a main room, a pantry, bedrooms for the brothers, a guest room, a bath, and a cellar. Eight rooms! Their guest bedroom had two beds - and Theo got to sleep in one of them! He hadn't slept in a bed in ages and, even if it was shared with Heath (Larian being the smallest and Cano the largest, it was decided that they ought to share the one bed), it was the most luxurious night's sleep that he could remember.

He awoke at an early hour and padded out to the main room, intending to wander outside to pass water. He vaguely recalled hearing, though, that it was different than pissing on a tree stump out in the countryside, that in the city you were supposed to go discreetly in a special room. That, presumably, would be the bathroom, which was downstairs. On the way, he passed a big coppery mirror and had to stop to stare: it was the first time he'd spied his changed appearance, and boy did he look different. Gone was the strong jaw, the thin lips slightly downturned, the slightly-receding hairline. Gone were the deep-pitted, closely-spaced eyes and the stubble of two days without shaving. It was the face of a curious young woman - an attractive young woman, if somewhat androgynous. Her lips were expressive, her eyes sky-blue, their questing motions indicating an intelligence that Theo had never possessed. Her eyebrows were thin, inquisitive things, her hair was long and straight and jet black, and upon her head she wore a crown of stars. Theo shook his head and squinted - no, he wasn't wearing a crown. It was some sort of costumery, a glitter that flecked his hair like the little gleams of crystal in the sandy mud of a riverbed.

And, as before, he felt that someone else was looking through his eyes, sharing his experience. Was it him - was he simply changed enough that he no longer registered his own conscious experience as himself? This, Theo realized, was a thought that shouldn't have occurred to him in a million million years... no more than the notion of a number so large would have. But he was glad that it did now.

Theo pulled himself away from his own reflection and wandered downstairs, where he encountered Matthias drawing water for a bath. The Mendics had a big, round bathing basin carved into the floor at the bottom of the house, the bathroom being next to the cellar. They could draw water up from some cistern deep underground to fill the basin and then boil enough water to bring the bath up to a comfortable temperature. It was probably the most luxurious thing that Theo had ever seen, and he'd once seen Ma Coker's dining area and its three dining tables. As he sat down at the little privy to do his business, as he thought he ought to, Theo couldn't help but notice Matthias's covert but unmistakable glimpses in his direction.

"Want a bath?" Matthias said. "It'll be better now than later - by the time breakfast rolls around, it'll be lukewarm and murky with soap and body dirt."

Theo thought that he ought to refuse, but after a night of sleeping on an actual bed, he felt lucky and impulsive. He nodded and proceeded to strip, only realizing that this might be a huge problem once he was totally naked with his dark clothes in a little heap by the bath basin. He thought of covering himself but, whatever there was to see, Matthias had seen it - smooth, slightly-rosy skin without a hair in sight, small breasts, and a small but unmistakable penis. Theo bit his lip and gauged Matthias's reaction.

"I thought you might be," Matthias said. "A eunuch, I mean. Yesterday in the forest, for that first instant, I thought you might be a very smooth boy and not a girl... but then I cast that from my mind, saying to myself that so smooth and pretty a thing couldn't possibly be male. And, in a way, I was right."

Theo tried to remember what a eunuch was, if he'd ever known. Presumably, whatever sort of person looked like himself - clearly on the female side of androgyny but with underdeveloped male parts? He'd ask Larian about it later. For now, he just nodded. "I thought you might be unhappy," he said.

Matthias shrugged. "Why? It's not your fault you got your business snipped off. And, looking as you do, it's got to be much easier to pass as a woman. Tell me, Astra Stargazer, what's your real name? Don't think I didn't notice the balance of give and take when it came to personal information."

Theo lowered himself into the water. It wasn't tepid, which he might have preferred, but it was a perfectly comfortable lukewarm. "Thea," he said. "Theodeus, I mean, but I go by Thea."

"Thea," Matthias said. "That's very pretty. Let's get you clean, Thea, and you can tell me all about yourself and your friends."

Matthias was gentle but insistent. He took his soapy washcloth and scrubbed Thea's back. He took a bucket of warmer water and poured it over Thea's head, carefully pressing suds into it. And then, sitting side by side, he slipped his arm down and touched Thea between the legs. He gasped and looked to Matthias, eyes questioning.

"Does that feel good?"

"Y-yeah," Thea said. He felt like dumb old Theo, only capable of monosyllables. "Can... can I help you?" he asked.

Matthias said nothing. He just sank lower into the water and spread his legs slightly - that was as clear an invitation as Thea was likely to get. Matthias was olive-tan, only a bit less hairy than average, and just muscular enough to be cocky about it. Thea ran his own hand down Matthias's abdomen, feeling hard and bulging muscles not unlike the ones he'd used to have (though his had been substantially larger) and down to the hard, insistent erection not unlike the ones he'd used to have (he'd guess them close in size - which made Matthias very large, indeed). Thea grasped his member - it felt absurdly large in his much-smaller hands - and slowly stroked it, lingering and elaborating at the tip, where Theo had always liked attention to his. Matthias breathed in time with the strokes, gazing into Thea's eyes, and returned his own attentions between Thea's legs, rubbing at his small penis, which felt amazing, though it wouldn't grow erect.

Theo had never deeply pondered his sexuality, and Thea didn't see much point in starting now. He continued to stroke Matthias, getting a little thrill when he gasped and groaned in delight. For his part, Matthias alternated his attentions between Thea's little member and the budding breasts upon his chest, which provided a little electric frisson of their own. It wasn't much - not yet - but it was a lot more variety than old Theo had ever enjoyed. When Matthias grunted in release, Thea giggled at the pulsing of his member and giggled again when Matthias leaned down to kiss him. And, though he never came himself, Matthias continued to rub at Thea until he sighed in contentment and sank into the tub, washing all of the soap from his inky-black hair.

"No better way to start the morning," Matthias murmured.

"I think baths are my new favorite thing," Thea said.

He dried and changed back into his clothes, finding they'd changed again - inky-black, just like his hair, silky in parts - or even gossamer-thin - with a padded jerkin with small cups for his bourgeoning breasts. His hips felt different, too - or maybe it was just the costume that was different, any semblance of pants now shifted to a skirt.

+++++

Thea returned to the guest room to find the others awake, rousing, and engaged in hushed conversation. All heads turned toward the door when he entered, and they were visibly relieved to see that it was him. The others had continued to change during the night, though those changes appeared to be slowing. Heath was was striking with his brindle hair and forest-green eyes, standing right about Thea's height. The skin of his wiry frame was middle-tan overall, but seemed to shift in shade like the shadows made by poplars on a summer afternoon. Larian was shorter by half a head, strikingly beautiful in an innocent sort of way, belied by the night black of her eyes. The mass of her fiery hair was far greater than before, and her skin was bronzed and smooth. As she shrugged into her dress, Thea could appreciate her svelte but undeniably feminine frame, her breasts pert and her belly slim and sleek. And Cano, he was larger and more powerfully built, as well-muscled as Theo had been, albeit not quite so tall or broad and without that little padding of fat that Theo had always carried. His skin was like oiled bronze, his shoulder-length hair the same fiery red as Larian's. As when his pale gray eyes took in Thea's own changed body, he couldn't help but blush.

"We were wondering where you'd gone off to," Cano said.

"A bath. I'd bet we all need them," he said. "What are we talking about?"

"The dreams," Larian said.

From the way they all nodded, they assumed he knew what they were talking about. The only dream he'd had, though, was one of pounding posts into young Albard's field and finding the mallet suddenly far too large. He'd marveled at the size of the thing in his much-smaller hands, only to have it snatched away by a passing raider. Albard had yelled at him, which was utterly uncharacteristic of the man. Presumably, this wasn't the sort of dream they were referring to, so he shrugged.

"You didn't have any dreams, Theo?" Heath said.

"I did not," he said. "And, for the time being, I'll be going by Thea."

"That makes more sense than a woman named Theo," Cano said.

"I'm not a woman," Thea said. "Not yet. Maybe not ever." Though, unlike the others, he suspected that he still had as much changing ahead of him as behind.

"You know what I meant," Cano said with a roll of his eyes. "Strange that you didn't have a dream, though."

They told Thea about the dreams - all three of them had experienced them, amazingly vivid and immersive visions. In those dreams, a person who looked amazingly like their new forms, albeit perhaps even more perfected (Thea had a had time imagining how such a thing was possible) had spoken to them. They were a bit undecided on the implications of what those people had said, though Larian claimed she could recite hers ad verbatim... and that this was, in fact, part of what had been bequeathed upon her.

"'Know that I am Larinthal, that I have chosen you to be my scion, and that my power is mighty,' she said," Larian recounted. "She put the hat on my head..." she rifled about the bedstand for her scholar's cap, placing it upon her fiery, lustrous locks with a little tilt. "'Thou art clever and wise, girl,' the goddess said. 'And through me shalt thou be cleverer and wiser still, for mine is the power of wisdom, of memory, and of the secret arts long forgotten. Say my name upon my altar and firm our pact shall be.'"

"Yeah, in my dream he spoke in old-fashioned, too," Heath said.

"It wasn't 'old-fashioned'," Larian stated. "It was an ancient language lost to us... but that we, apparently, can understand."

They discussed amongst themselves what any of it meant, growing cautious and hushed whenever they heard a creak in the floorboards or spotted a passing shadow. Who knew how the Mendics would take it... and what even was it? Was it the lingering effect of a poison? A magical poison, perhaps? Or was it a dream sent by spirits or demons?

"Or maybe long-forgotten gods?" Larian said - Thea had been thinking the same thing.

"There is no god but God," Cano dutifully stated.

Larian shrugged - there wasn't much point in arguing with orthodoxy. "Fine, maybe not gods exactly. But maybe saints or angels - those occasionally speak to mortals, don't they? And certain among them may have powers akin to those of gods of old."

"Maybe..." Cano allowed.

"They don't seem evil to me," Thea said. "Yes, they've changed us - and gifted us. I mean... I can think so much better now. I feel like there's a spigot of ideas in my head, and they're all rushing to get out. Demons, from what I..." he struggled to find the word - Thea's vocabulary was still pretty limited. It hadn't been magically enhanced, even if his mind had been healed, and he was picking up a lot of new words. "From what I understand, demons confuse. They trick us, mislead us, don't they? A demon wouldn't make me more clear-headed, would it? But an angel just might - or St. Sybilla with her healing touch. But... and this is im... important. We can't tell anybody, because they might think it's demons... and people don't treat people who truck with demons so well." Thea beamed - that was, by a wide margin, the most he'd ever said in one go.

"She's right," Heath said. Thea didn't bother to correct him.

"Right about what?" Nero asked amiably, wandering into the room. If he noted anything odd about their appearances, visibly changed from the day before, he didn't say it.

"Right about our needing a bath," Larian said quickly. "We want to make a good impression at the masquerade."

Nero looked her up and down, his eyes flitting to her pretty face, and especially to the tight-laced bodice of her satin and velveteen dress. "It'd be hard for you not to... but smelling good is never a bad idea."

+++++

A few short hours later, after baths and a midday meal, they made their final preparations for the masquerade. Matthias stopped in and handed them masks - black and bronze masks covering the top half of the face for Cano and Heath and glittery little things covering the eyes and not much more for Thea and Larian. Matthias secured Thea's mask himself, lifting his silky, coal-black hair and tying the lacy slip of the thing with sure hands.

"I see you've donned your 'crown'," he said, whispering hot into Thea's ear. "I approve."

Thea reached up and felt at the thing, a little tiara now perched upon his head. He noted with a start that his ring was no longer on his hand - he suspected that there was a connection there. The tiara was silvery and studded with hundreds of tiny, sparkling gems. They were small gems and might not even have been precious in of themselves, but the tiara was far more valuable than anything that Thea had ever owned. It had just enough heft to assure that it wasn't a cheap party prop of foil-coated wood and glued-on glass... nor was any prop likely to display craftsmanship that held up to close inspection.

"I've told my father that I'm bringing a rich and beautiful southern girl to the party. I hope that's all right."

Thea was about to protest - he wasn't, in his estimation, any of those things. But there was a pleading aspect to Matthias's gaze that he couldn't bear to crush. Instead he shrugged and, when that proved insufficient, nodded.

"Wonderful!" he kissed Thea's cheek and left him blushing. "Use whatever perfumes you like from the vanity. Our coach comes in an hour."

It seemed like less than that. An hour later, as afternoon slowly darkened to evening, Thea walked out of the Mendic brothers' residence, arm-in-arm with Matthias Mendic. Looking down, his boots were polished leather, oily black with dark, metallic buckles and a two-inch heel - enough to bring him to a height with Matthias. His skirt was opaque but diaphanous, fluttering in the breeze, the sparkles of tiny inlaid sequins flashing in the orange light of sunset. Sometimes, the breeze would waft up the pleasant floral smell of his or Larian's perfume... and other times, it wafted up the musky, spicy perfumes of the other men... and, most often, it wafted up the sour, unpleasant smell of the Nortsair streets. Hopefully, the ride would be a short one. Hopefully, they'd accomplish what they needed to do at the masquerade.

OvidLemma

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