Stan and Mack are friends and college roommates, but Mack has a deep secret. When the boys visit Bikini Beach, Anya reveals the secret as she arranges for the two former boys to be lesbian lovers. Anya continues to become more callous about her use of magic, and Grandmother is forced to take desperate actions, which reveal a little more of her background.

**********

This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Greg Lawson felt a pair of hands starting to rub his neck and shoulders, a deep, very soothing massage, and he felt his whole body starting to relax with a contented sigh. A sudden realization intruded on his thoughts, and he flinched. Ducking his head to one side and turning, he saw the wavy brown hair that he'd come to know only too well. He glanced across the table at his girlfriend, Anya, who had a smirk on her face. "Would you please stop doing that?" he complained as he turned to the girl rubbing his shoulders.

"Why? Don't you like a shoulder massage?" Oksana, the brown-haired beauty, cooed as she slid into the booth beside Greg, her arm sliding up around his shoulders. She made a point of thrusting out her chest, which was a little larger than Anya's. In fact, she had a figure that would attract guys like bees to honey.

Greg leaned away from her. "You know I'm taken," he complained, "so your efforts are wasted."

Oksana laughed. "A girl always needs to practice flirting, doesn’t she?"

Greg glanced at his girlfriend, who was laughing at his discomfort. "I wish you'd practice with someone else."

"Oksana is just being a little playful and fun," Anya said to him. "It's not like she's trying to take you away from me, or that I'd let her get away with something like that."

Greg felt his irritation at Oksana melting with the sunshine of Anya's smile. The dark-haired girl was beautiful, Greg knew, and he was lucky to be dating her. "I know," he said sheepishly, "but it still makes me uncomfortable."

Greg glanced at Oksana, who was still sitting close to him on one side of the booth. "I didn't expect you here," he said, careful to keep his tone neutral. "I thought Anya and I were going to have a quiet lunch together. Just the two of us."

"Oh, come on, Greg," Anya protested, "why can't Oksana join us? It's not like we don't have any private time together?"

"I suppose," Greg agreed with a frown. He suddenly flinched, his eyes widening, as he felt Oksana's hand on his leg. "I, um, I have to use the men's room," he blurted quickly, trying to make an excuse to get away from Oksana.

As he scurried to the men's room, Oksana sat back in the booth, grinning. "It's so much fun to make him squirm. Men are like that."

"Yeah," Anya agreed. "But I don't tease Greg too much. Maybe you should cool it a little around him. I don't want him scared off. It took too long to get him trained, and I'd hate to have to start over with someone new!"

"You could always use a little magic to help with that," Oksana teased. "It makes life so much simpler. A little spell here, a little magic there, and presto! One trained man who'd do anything for you, who'd be at your beck and call, who'd never forget important dates, who'd never leave you wanting after he's had his fun in bed."

Anya's eyes looked a little dreamy, as she considered Oksana's siren song. "Yeah, that would be nice." All of a sudden, she shook her head, as if clearing cobwebs. "No," she said firmly. "That would be wrong. Greg does things for me because he loves me, not because of magic."

"I know," Oksana said. "But you can't tell me that you haven't been tempted." She rose from the booth. "I have to run. I'm going rafting in the Grand Canyon this afternoon. I'll see you later tonight?"

"Yeah," Anya said, sounding a little envious. She had to work at the park, while her friend was off having fun. "Coconut Club again?"

"Sure." Oksana strutted out the door, aware that the men in the diner had their eyes riveted to her luscious, wiggling ass. She had a knowing grin, enjoying teasing the men like she was.

A moment later, Greg returned to the table. He glanced around nervously. "Where's Oksana?"

"She had to run. River rafting this afternoon."

Greg's eyes widened, and an anticipatory grin crept across his features. "Does this mean that we can have a quiet evening, just the two of us? Maybe a romantic dinner, and then cuddling to an old movie?"

Anya's expression brought Greg's dreams crashing down. "No, not tonight, I'm afraid," Anya answered. "We're already planning on going out to the Coconut Club tonight."

"Oh." The icy tone of late was back in Greg's voice.

"How about if you join us? We can have a good time dancing, like we always do."

Greg shook his head, scowling. "No. I think I'll work on my project to try to get ahead. You know how busy it'll get in a couple of weeks. And the park expansion is taking a lot more of my time than I thought it would." Despite his angry expression, the look in his eyes reflected how morose he truly felt at not having quiet time with just Anya.

"I've got to get back to the park." Anya reached out and caressed his cheek. "But I'll make it up to you," she purred. "I promise." She stood. She bent over and gave him a quick kiss.

Greg sat in the booth, alone, watching Anya practically skip to her car, happy and seemingly carefree. "That's what you keep saying," he said softly, to no-one in particular, "but you never do."

**********

The man walking across the parking lot looked very casual and relaxed, but a trained observer would note that every move, every turn of his head, was precise and measured. The man was practiced at the art of looking casual while going about his business. Just like a detective. Which he was. Jozef was a detective with the police force, and thus trained to watch, observe, and notice details. Most of the younger girls gave him only a passing glance, but he noticed a few looks of interest from more mature women nearer his own age. He also noticed those looks changing when he bypassed the ticket counter and walked purposefully to the office building that projected through the privacy wall. Suddenly, interest in Jozef ended. Those who had seen him as an attractive man realized that if he was a businessman dealing with Grandmother, he likely wouldn't be interested in them.

Before he could press the door buzzer, he heard the sound of the electromechanical relay unlatching the door. The door swung open, unbidden, so Jozef stepped into the building. "Not too subtle today, are we?" Jozef said wryly as he pulled the door shut behind himself.

Grandmother smiled. "I knew it was you, so I figured what the heck." She sat in one leg of the L-shaped space, behind her massive oak desk, with leather-upholstered chairs in front, and a matching swivel chair behind. Behind the chair was another desk, a working desk, dominated by a computer and a printer, with papers piled haphazardly around them.

In the other leg of the L was another desk, not nearly as large, but with an almost-identical layout of work space. This one, unlike the other area, was almost immaculate, devoid of stacks and piles of papers. The base of the L was neatly filled with an informal conversation group; two sofas in an L-shape against the two walls, with an ornate floor lamp in the vacant space of the corner. A large coffee table sat before the sofas, and three wing chairs completed the ensemble. Small end tables, at the ends of the sofas and between two of the chairs, gave space for people to set refreshments or paperwork. The rest of the rectangular building was taken by a walled conference room and bathrooms, with a refrigerator and water cooler outside the bathroom area.

Jozef frowned. Normally, Grandmother would eagerly greet him with a hug or handshake, and offer him a soda. This time, she sat in her chair, looking very worried and very weary. "What's on your mind?"

"No time for pleasantries?"

Jozef shook his head, taking a seat opposite Grandmother's desk. "Not when you look so concerned. Anya again?"

Grandmother nodded. "I'm more than worried. She's ... she's starting to get rash and reckless with her magic."

"Like her mother."

The surprise on Grandmother's face was total. "But ... I never told ... how did you ...?"

Jozef smiled thinly. "I could say professional secrets, but you'd know better. Before we went to Europe, I took the liberty of getting all the case files I could on Anya."

"Oh. I thought ...."

"Jana told me she'd tried the same thing. She couldn't find anything." Jozef shook his head at the old woman. "Pretty clever of you to pull a 'Purloined Letter' on them."

"You ... detected the magic." She frowned again. "But ... that means your magic detection works hundreds of miles ...."

"No," Jozef shook his head. "I actually had to travel to her home, and then go into the file locker with one of the local officers. Then I could sense the magic, and I knew which files to request to have sent to me."

"Does the chief know?"

"No. I ... forged his signature on the requests." He smiled. "Don't tell him, or I'll get in more trouble than I'm already in."

Grandmother's look was scolding, as if he were a schoolboy who'd been caught in a prank.

"What?" he protested. "People do it all the time. And it's not like this is the first time, you know."

"Back to the matter at hand ...."

"I told you what I sensed about Anya. It's like her aura is sometimes cloudy and hard to read, and sometimes reasonably clear and easy to read."

"Could that affect her judgment?"

Jozef shrugged. "How would I know? You're the one who's more skilled at magic."

"How about Oksana? Is she directing magic at Anya? Did she give Anya something that's enchanted?" Grandmother sounded like she was grasping at straws.

Jozef shook his head. "Anya showed me a bracelet that Oksana gave her. It's supposed to be from the old country, but ...."

"But you don't think it is?"

"Nope. Anyway, I scanned it, and it has no magic. None."

Grandmother swore. "There _has_ to be a connection."

"Why are you so worried right now?"

A long, heavy sigh came from the old woman. "Because Anya's twenty-three."

Jozef didn't make any connection. "And?"

"My people ... are cursed by the otherworld. We can't travel to or from the otherworld until we turn twenty-three." She shook her head. "I don't understand why, but we can't. Neither could Anya – until now."

"And the otherworld ... judging by your reactions, I'd say you aren't fond of it?"

"No. Not in the least bit. Take all the petty, power-mad politicians, add magic as a power to be craved and fought over, throw in a dash of backstabbing and back-room dealing, and you have an idea of what it's like."

"Congress or any statehouse on steroids."

"That's a good analogy." Grandmother leaned her head back against her chair, closing her eyes. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, but it didn't work. "What did you learn from your great-grandmother about the trip through Europe?"

Jozef eyed Grandmother carefully. It didn't seem like a relevant question, but then again, Grandmother always had her reasons. "Pretty much everything from when she met you until you parted in Southampton." He smiled. "Including the ... incident that resulted in Joska being changed."

"Let me tell you what happened before. And what happened when _I_ traveled to the otherworld. Then maybe you'll understand a little more. But first, let me get you something to drink. Iced tea?"

"Unsweetened, please."

After Grandmother got herself a root beer, and poured a bottle of iced tea into a glass for Jozef, she sat down, then took a deep breath. She paused for several seconds; the memories were still very painful to her. Then she recounted her abuse when she was young, the rape that had cost her physical innocence, and then the use of the darkness, which had cost her magical innocence. She told of how she'd pushed it away, but having touched it, her aura was stained, and she had to flee before she was put to death, as was the custom of her people. Then she recounted her visit to the otherworld, her apprenticeship at the hands of an evil master, who had taught her some magic, but had tried to push her into touching the darkness. Again, she resisted. When she finished, she sat back, sipping her root beer.

"Wow," was all Jozef could say. "That's pretty tough stuff."

"There's more," Grandmother said. After another deep breath, she forced herself to recount the events of that extremely painful night, when she had confronted Chessa, resulting in a duel which had proven fatal to Chessa, and so traumatic to Grandmother that she couldn't use very much of her magic. When she finished, she wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't do that again," she said softly. "I can't."

"Anya mentioned that when we were in the village." Jozef wasn't sure what to do. Grandmother didn't seem like the type that would welcome a comforting hug. Finally, he spoke. "What can I do?"

"Can you please check Anya and Oksana again? See if you can detect something?"

Jozef nodded. After Grandmother's saga, he'd have to be inhuman to refuse her request. "I'll try. But ...."

"But you didn't notice anything that stood out when you were traveling. How precise is your sense? Can you tell one object from another? Can you tell if the magic is good or evil?"

"Unless it's masked, I can pick one object from another. But I can't tell good from evil. Only that it's magic. Sorry."

"Can you ... identify an aura? Sense similarities or patterns?"

Jozef shook his head. "Only sometimes. It's not reliable, not like you or Anya." He read the look on Grandmother's face. "I'll take off work the rest of the day, and see what I can find for you. And for Anya."

"You're fond of her, aren't you?"

Jozef started to deny it, but then he caught himself. There was no sense hiding it from Grandmother. "Yes, but only as a friend. We were a good team when we were looking for Mel. She's a good girl. Smart, friendly. It was pleasant to work with her. Yeah, I'm fond of her."

"Okay, then here's a pass for the rest of the day." Grandmother handed him a card.

Josella, Jozef's female alter ego, emerged from the showers in an electric-blue bikini. "So much for being subtle," she groused toward the office. At least it wasn't as skimpy as the last time she'd visited the park. From Grandmother's prediction of Anya's comings and goings, she plotted out her long-term strategy. She had to bump into Anya and Oksana as often as possible, but in a way that made it look coincidental, and not staged. She had to try to read them when she was near enough.

Her first encounter came quickly. Josella saw the two girls walking toward the Tiki hut for some lunch. Based on Grandmother's description of Anya's actions, Josella wondered briefly why the two hadn't just popped out to some posh bistro for a nibble of lunch. She hurried around to the other side, then strolled out as if she'd just finished her lunch. A quick greeting hug, and a handshake with Oksana, and Josella went on her way.

Her second chance came about mid-afternoon. Due to a staff illness, Anya had to spend a few hours lifeguarding. She was at the winding, lazy river, sitting in a lifeguard chair beside Oksana. A brief frown crossed Josella's features; to an outsider, it might appear that the two were lovers, since the seat was designed for one person, which made it quite cozy for the two of them. She saw them from upstream, so she was careful to turn her tube so she wasn't looking anywhere near them.

The third and final chance was late afternoon. Anya had a meeting with Jenny in the maintenance shed, so Josella went to the hammocks near the path where the two would have to walk. She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes and lay motionless, as if she was napping, when the two walked past. For a brief moment, Oksana looked puzzled, and then she glared at Josella, a look unseen by Anya.

Realizing that Oksana might be able to detect something wrong with her, Josella decided to call it quits. With startling grace, she rose from the hammock and strolled back to the locker room. After changing, she walked casually to the office. This time, however, unlike earlier meetings, the door didn't open. She pondered that event while she pressed the buzzer.

"Yes?"

"Grandmother, it's me. Josella."

The old woman's gasp of surprise came clearly through the speaker. "Josella? I ... I should have .... Come in." The latch clicked, allowing Josella to enter.

"I should have felt you coming," Grandmother apologized as Josella sat. Grandmother got two bottles of unsweetened iced tea from the refrigerator, handing one to Josella as she sat down. "I don't understand why I didn't sense you."

Josella frowned. "I think I know why. The last time I bumped into Anya and Oksana, she really glared at me, quite angrily. I suspect that she somehow realized that I could sense magic, and did something about it."

"What?"

Josella continued. "The last time, I got nothing from either of them. Nada. Zip. Not even a hint of Anya's natural aura. I suspect that she did something to block my magic detection."

Grandmother got a far-off look in her eyes, and extended her hand toward Josella. Her lips pursed together grimly as she absorbed the sensation. "I don't sense anything about you. Do you sense anything about me, or the park?"

Josella's eyes widened. "I ... I didn't realize ...." She focused, and then looked at Grandmother with a startled look. "I don't feel ... anything! Not you, not the park, nothing!"

Grandmother nodded grimly. "She put a magic shield around you. You were right. She sensed something. That means that she's got something to hide, something that she doesn't want you to find out about."

"Can ... can you ... undo it?" Josella asked nervously. "This feels ... kind of like I'm suddenly blind. Everything that I took for granted with my sense is gone!"

Grandmother closed her eyes and concentrated again before shaking her head. "It's not a spell that I'm familiar with." She saw the look of despair in Josella's eyes. "But I know a friend who can probably do something about it."

"Is your friend, by chance, the weird guy in the bathrobe that Anya and Greg always talk about?"

Grandmother winced. "Yeah," she admitted. "But since you're already a woman, he can't do that little trick, can he."

"I guess not. And I don't think I have any other options." She chuckled lightly, trying to make the best of the situation. "I don't think Oksana would be inclined to undo this, do you?"

A few minutes later, summoned by a phone call from Grandmother, the owner of strange little magic shop appeared in the office. "How can I help you, dear lady?" he said, turning on the charm as he lifted Josella's hand to kiss it.

"Knock off the Don Juan act," Grandmother said gruffly. "We've got a problem I need help with."

The strange man in the bathrobe smiled. "Is this another favor that you'll owe me?"

Grandmother grinned wickedly. "Call it a debt you're still paying off." She saw his puzzled look. "You didn't do squat for me after we spent that time in ...."

"Okay, okay," the strange man protested quickly, interrupting Grandmother's explanation, "I get the picture." He shook his head. "Sheesh! One weekend ..."

"Two weeks, you mean," Grandmother said with a naughty grin.

"Two weeks, and you're never going to let me forget it, are you?" He shook his head. "Okay, what's the problem?"

"Magic shield. I think Oksana invoked it around Josella because she can sense magic."

"Why would ...?" His eyebrows lifted. "Oh, I see! I think she just implicated herself far more than she thought she would." He concentrated on Josella for a few moments, and then invoked a spell. "How's that?" he asked when done.

Josella felt the surge of magic back to her, and she nearly collapsed. Only Grandmother catching her prevented her from falling. As soon as she straightened, she nodded. "It's back."

"Good. Now, unless you have something else, I have a customer about to come, and I don't want to miss him."

**********

Grandmother sat in her large, leather-upholstered, swivel chair, scanning her computer. As she read, pausing to take a bite from an apple, her frown deepened. Still she scanned further, scrolling down the file. Finally, she shook her head and angrily punched a button on the intercom. "Anya, please come to the office." She leaned back from the monitor, scowling and taking another bite of her apple.

A few moments later, the door from the park side opened, and Anya came in. As usual, she was attired in her pink staff T-shirt and shorts, with her dark hair in a ponytail. "You wanted to see me, Grandmother?" she asked in a cheery voice. Her expression turned more somber when she saw the back of Grandmother's chair facing the door. Over Grandmother's shoulder, she saw the computer displaying the unmistakable magic change log, which was kept for every magical change and transaction.

"Sit down, please," Grandmother ordered in a stern, clipped tone.

Now somewhat nervous, Anya sat down on the opposite side of Grandmother's desk. The fact that Grandmother was at her desk, and had her back turned, indicated to Anya that Grandmother wasn't at all happy. Having been in the 'hot seat' with Grandmother more than once, Anya knew better than to speak before Grandmother was ready. She chafed at the childish rules; she was an adult, and deserved to be treated like one.

Slowly, with a mild squeak, the massive oak and leather chair turned, revealing Grandmother's steely gaze. Her elbows perched on the armrests of the chair, and her fingers were intertwined in front of her mouth. "I've been reviewing the change logs," Grandmother said solemnly.

"And?"

"And I'm seeing a few things that, quite frankly, bother me." She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm herself. "For example, the passes you sold to Wes Parker and his friend Dave McGarvey. What's up with those?"

Anya thought a moment, recalling the passes she'd sold the previous couple of days. "Oh, yes. They were looking for girls for sex. I gave them suitable passes."

"You made them nymphos!"

"What's your point?" Anya's response was a little testy.

"And you gave Wes a three-day pass without telling him," Grandmother added.

"So? It'll keep Wes and Dave off the streets. Dave will be too busy banging Wes to bother any other girls," she said defensively.

"And Wes is going to get pregnant because of your little stunt, thus remaining stuck as a girl. Didn't you think of that?" Grandmother demanded.

"I didn't see that," Anya retorted, surprised at the revelation.

"Your sight is clouded. You admitted it yourself." Grandmother reached in her desk and pulled out her old scrying ball, setting it delicately on the desk. She waved her fingers over the ball in an intricate ballet, until the ball clouded, and then an image formed. "See?"

The image was a husband and very pregnant wife, living in a small apartment, with a crib with twins already occupying one corner. When one of the twins started crying, the husband shouted at his wife, then stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind himself, while the wife began to sob as she picked up the noisy twin.

"Dave will marry Wendy because he feels responsible. But they won't last. They won't have a happy marriage at all. Before she has her third, they'll be divorced," Grandmother recited what her sight was telling her. "Wes will never go to med school to become a doctor. Dave will have to drop out and take a construction job to pay for his new family." Grandmother frowned deeply at Anya. "That's what your negligence has caused."

"I ... I can get them a winning lottery ticket," Anya stammered, looking for an out. "They won't have to quit college."

"And what of the family who _would_ have won that lottery? How are their lives going to be messed up?" She sighed heavily. "Changing this has a domino effect. You know that after what happened with Melody!"

"So what do you expect me to do?" Anya demanded, starting to get angry.

Grandmother took a pad of paper and scribbled on it. "Go find Wendy, and cast this spell on her."

Anya's eyes widened. "An ... infertility spell?"

"It's much more effective than the condom that will fail," Grandmother said, trying to soften her voice, "and it'll keep her from getting pregnant – for at least a month, which is way more than the three days it'll take for her to change back." She sighed, trying to steady her nerves. "On any pass you sell, I want you to include this – just to be sure." She leaned back, a cross look still on her face. "I'll get it installed in the default magic tomorrow, when I have time to get to it."

"Is that all?"

Grandmother shook her head. "Do you remember, some time ago, telling me that I was getting too ... harsh with some of my changes?"

Anya nodded. "Yes."

"I think you're starting to do what I was doing," Grandmother suggested, struggling to not say anything harsh or critical of Anya. "I think you should consider what kinds of passes you're giving out." She spun her chair. "As an example, Hal Goldings. He was interested in companionship, and not necessarily sex. You made him into something that put Allison to shame. He'll get nothing _but_ sex until his pass wears off."

"No big deal, right?"

"Or Elias Marchant," Grandmother continued. "He was here for an innocent, fun day with his little sister. Instead, he's now the baby sister, and he can't do the kinds of things that he intended."

"She thought he was a bully at times. He got to learn what it's like to be the little sibling."

"Instead of the bonding he would have done with his sister, which would have changed his perspective of his relationship with his sister. Robbie Tobias. He was looking for a little sex with a girl. You made him an attractive lesbian, with a bonus that makes him almost irresistible to girls."

"He got what he wanted," Anya rebutted. "Just not quite what he was expecting." She had a mischievous grin.

"And enough subconscious memories will remain that it will leave him confused as to his sexual identity once he changes back." Grandmother shook her head disapprovingly. "Armando Martinez."

"His wife thought he was insensitive, and needed a lesson," Anya explained.

"So you made him his wife's sister, married to a lout but hopelessly in love with him despite his emotional abuse, and to top it off, you made sure she's having her period this week."

"He'll learn," Anya said in her own defense.

"He could have learned with a lot less ... extreme ... changes." Grandmother turned back to face her granddaughter. "Shall I go on?"

Anya pursed her lips tightly together, anger evident on her face. "No," she said through clenched teeth. "You made your point. You don't trust my judgment."

"Anya, that's not the point. You aren't thinking through the changes completely right now, for some reason," Grandmother tried to sound soothing, "I just want you to apply the minimum change needed, not the maximum. Not what you and Oksana think is amusing."

Anya nodded, still fuming inside. "Okay."

"Good. That's all I ask. Now, why don't you take a break, and work on payroll. I'll have Selena take over on the gate for a while."

Anya's frown returned. "You don't trust me," she accused.

"Anya," Grandmother said, her tone pleading for an end to the confrontation, "I _do_ trust you. You're family. You're my _only_ family! But after what you've been through in the past few weeks, I think a break from the magic for the rest of the afternoon will do you some good."

Anya glowered at Grandmother for a moment, but then her expression softened. "I guess I have been kind of tired and irritable lately," she admitted. "And Greg ...." She shut up suddenly, realizing that she shouldn't have mentioned Greg to Grandmother.

"What about Greg?" Grandmother's curiosity was piqued.

Anya sighed. "It's just that he doesn't want to do anything with Oksana and me anymore," she complained. "It's like he's jealous that I have a new friend."

"He probably _is_ jealous," Grandmother said plainly. "Until recently, you two spent a lot of time together in the evenings and on weekends. Then Oksana came along. Tell me, how long has it been since you and Greg had a private evening or weekend together?"

"We went ...." Anya began, before she stopped speaking suddenly. After thinking a few moments, she lowered her gaze. "Does Greg think that I'm neglecting him?" she asked.

Grandmother smiled. It was nice to see Anya's concerns back to normal. "Probably," she answered. "How would you feel if suddenly, Greg had a new friend, and he wanted to spend all his time with the friend, leaving you out of personal time?"

"I ... I guess I owe him a big apology," Anya said softly.

One of Grandmother's eyebrows rose. This was the least callous, least selfish, clearest thing Anya had said in the past several weeks.

**********

Jim 'Mack' McGarvey strutted into the apartment, wearing a tight-fitting muscle-shirt which displayed proudly his physique. His blonde hair was relatively short, and didn't show any sweat from the workout Mack had just completed. He saw his roommate Stan Newberry on his computer. "Don't tell me you didn't move while I was at the gym," he chided his friend.

Stan sighed. "I'm trying to stay ahead of the electronics theory class. It's going to be a bitch later, based on what I heard. Besides," he added with a grin, "I'm not as smart as you are." With dark, curly hair and an olive complexion, he had a Mediterranean look. He was also five inches shorter than his roommate, and considerably less muscular.

"You know I've told you a million times that a good workout gets the blood flowing, and helps study afterwards."

Stan snorted. "All I know is that when I tried working out, I looked like a wimp, and I was so tired I could barely get myself to bed." He chuckled. "I honestly don't know why you keep me around. I'm not a good workout partner. I can't help you with studying."

"Yeah, but you're a great cook," Mack said with a grin. In his heart, he desperately longed to tell Stan the real reason – Mack was gay, and he was really in love with Stan. But he was closeted, and no-one had a clue of his orientation. He dared not let Stan know; he was certain that Stan would freak and move out, leaving Mack heartbroken. He couldn't have Stan as a lover, but he could have him as a friend and roommate. If that was as close as he'd ever get, he knew he'd take it over being completely shut out of Stan's life.

"What do you want to do this afternoon?" Stan asked innocently after blushing at Mack's compliment. He'd grown up under the wing of his father, who was a very accomplished chef. "There's a good band tonight at Shell Game."

"Too high school."

"There's the Coconut Club."

Mack wrinkled his nose. In truth, he hated the club scene, because girls always came on to him, and he had to either pretend to be interested enough to dance and chat, or he had to come up with a believable excuse. It was getting old. "I suppose," he said, not sounding at all enthusiastic.

"Great. Maybe, for once, I'll have a chance to get lucky." He couldn't see the pained expression on Mack's face. "You might want to shower so you don't smell like a gym locker," Stan joked.

"Yeah, but what do we do until the club gets hopping? Neither of us has homework, the clubs aren't open yet, and it's a nice day outside."

Stan shrugged, but then caught himself. "How about ... that water park?"

Mack frowned. "The one over by the mall? Bikini Beach?"

"Sure. It's supposed to have a lot of women who go there." He grinned. "Maybe it'll work out this time."

Mack cringed. He could see how much Stan wanted to go to the park, and then clubbing, and he couldn't really say no, not without betraying some of his secret. "I suppose we can go. But it kind of makes a shower a waste of time, doesn't it? We'll be going in the water."

Stan laughed. "With your sweat and stink, I don't think they'd let you in. They wouldn't want to pollute their water!"

"Very funny!" Mack strode into his bedroom to change and clean up.

**********

"Anya! Wait up!"

Anya spun at the sound of her name being called. She saw Vicky trotting toward her, dodging around park patrons as she did so. As usual, Vicky had a smile brighter than the sun. Her engagement to Rob probably had a lot to do with that. "Hey," Anya said in simple greeting. She looked carefully; Vicky had a new haircut. "I like what you did with your hair." Vicky had worn her hair long, like Anya, but now it was cut short, hanging above her shoulders, with a slight under-curl, and tapered in front. Her hair swept to the right, hanging playfully before swooping behind her right ear.

"Thanks," Vicky said, her grin broadening.

"What does Rob think of it?"

In response, Vicky blushed brightly. Evidently, Rob _really_ liked her new hairstyle. "You've been kind of hard to get ahold of," Vicky observed as she fell in beside Anya, walking toward the entrance plaza and the office buildings.

"Yeah. I've been keeping a full social calendar."

Vicky laughed. "That's an understatement! You're out every night it seems. Doesn't Greg get tired of being constantly on the go?"

Anya tensed, as if she took Vicky's comment as a personal criticism. "I like to try new things. Two nights ago, I went bungee jumping."

Vicky frowned. "I don't remember any bungee-jumping places around here."

"We went to a place in Colorado," Anya explained. "Fabulous scenery, and the jumping was an incredible rush."

"I imagine Greg loved it, too."

Anya shrugged. "He didn't go. It was just Oksana and me."

Vicky started at Anya's comment that she'd done something without Greg. It wasn't like her; Anya was as devoted to Greg as he was to her. She quickly regained her composure. "Mel, Mom, and I are getting together to look for wedding dresses. Since you're maid of honor, I'd like you to come with us. It'll be a blast. Mom has dinner in the oven, and when we get back from shopping, we can have a nice 'girls night'." Vicky bubbled with enthusiasm at the thought of a night of wedding preparation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Anya said, shaking her head sadly. "We've already got plans to go to a concert tonight."

Vicky's enthusiasm evaporated. "I ... I understand. You want to spend time with Greg, too."

"Oh, he's not going. He has that stupid project he's working on," Anya said dismissively. "But Oksana and I are going." She raised an eyebrow. "Hey, how about if I score a couple of extra tickets, and then you and Mel can come along?"

"Nah," Vicky responded quickly. Her tone was very carefully neutral, absent the bubbly enthusiasm she'd had only moments before. "Mom's already made plans. Maybe we can go some other time."

"Sure. Well, I've got to run. I've got a report to do for Grandmother before Oksana and I can go." She waved cheerfully, and then strode lightly toward the office, leaving Vicky behind her.

"Miss Vicky?" a soft girl's voice sounded from beside Vicky.

Vicky turned, and recognized Melody. "Oh, hi, Mel," she said quickly. "I didn't hear you coming."

"Why are you crying?" Mel asked bluntly.

Vicky realized that Mel was right; her cheeks were moist. "I ... I don't know."

"Is it something Miss Anya did?"

Vicky was taken aback, but only momentarily. "What makes you say that?"

"Because she's been too busy with her new friend for all the fun things she used to do. And I saw you talking to her, so I figured she'd done something that made you cry." Mel was far more observant than one would have expected from a girl of her young age.

Vicky wrapped her arms around Mel, letting her head rest on Mel's. "Oh, Melody," she cried, knowing that the tears were flowing freely to match the sobs wracking her body, "The whole night of ladies doing wedding planning and stuff we'd planned – Anya just blew it off."

"Maybe she didn't mean it," Mel tried to defend Anya.

Vicky shook her head sadly. "Rob told me what Greg has been saying at the house. Since that new girl came, Anya doesn't seem to care a lot about Greg very much, either."

"I met Anya's friend once." Her voice echoed the sadness she felt with how Anya was treating everyone, especially Greg and now Vicky. "She gave me the strangest look. I don't like her."

Mel decided to cheer her friend up, "I like your hair," Mel said. "Do you think Mom will let me get mine cut?"

"Why don't we go ask," Vicky said, wiping her tears, grateful for the distraction. "I know the perfect style for you."

**********

Anya opened the door and stepped into the ticket booth. "Special customers coming, Selena," she said to the girl seated behind the window. "Let me handle them."

Selena looked up at Anya, puzzled. "Are you sure? From what I see, these two are going to be tricky."

Anya nodded with certainty. "I already know how to handle them."

Selena shrugged. "Okay. I guess I'll take a break in the hut." She referred to the employees hut inside the park, a small, out-of-the-way building that was mostly hidden from guests' views, and which was a comfortable place for employees to rest during their breaks.

Anya settled in to the still-warm chair. She didn't have long to wait; two college-age guys were already out of their car and walking toward the window.

Stan and Mack looked like an odd pair as they walked across the hot asphalt from Stan's used Camry. One short and wiry, the other tall, blonde, and ripped. One obviously confident, the other clearly more than a little reticent. One had his attention riveted firmly on the ticket booth, the other's eyes were wandering, staring at the curvaceous women entering the park. Since there were no customers in the ticket line, the two walked directly to the window.

Anya had a genuine smile with more than a hint of mischievousness in it. "Good afternoon Mack, Stan," she greeted the customers. She chuckled when they flinched at the realization that she knew their names. "How can I help you today?"

"You ... you know who we are?" Stan stammered in disbelief.

"Of course. We make it a point to know our customers very well. In fact," she said with a sly grin, "I know things that have long been kept hidden. Isn't that right, Mack?"

Stan glanced at his roommate, and was surprised to see Mack blanching, his eyes wide with terror.

"Isn't there something you should tell Stan?" Anya prodded Mack.

"Uh, no!" Mack answered in a quavering voice. His expression was almost begging with Anya to not press the matter.

"You don't think your roommate can accept that you're gay?" Anya asked with a penetrating stare.

Mack's jaw hung agape, trying to form words to rebut Anya's argument, but not finding any way past the total shock of her outing him so completely.

Stan looked at his roommate evenly. "Is it true?" he asked.

Mack hung his head in shame. "Yeah," he mumbled softly. "I'm ... gay."

"Well, that explains a lot," Stan said in a matter-of-fact voice. "I don't see that it's a big deal."

"There's something else," Anya said. "that might be a big deal."

"Please don't," Mack implored Anya to not say any more. He was white, and visibly trembling. He was frightened that the girl had known their names and now also knew his secret.

Stan looked at Anya, his eyes narrowing, and then at Mack. "What other secret? What's so important that you don't want her to tell me?"

Anya thought a moment. "Now is not the time. Soon, though." She put her smile back on. "The best I can do for passes is two weeks. That's all we have available."

Mack was suddenly not sure he wanted to go to the water park. "Why don't we just go see a movie instead?" he asked. "The new superheroes movie is opening this weekend, and the passes _are_ kind of expensive."

Stan, on the other hand, was eager to relax. "Nah, we decided to come here. Maybe we can take in the movie later tonight. And as to the cost, I'll get them," he said, pulling out his wallet and extracting his credit card.

In short order, Anya handed them two cards, each with a name on it. "Remember to shower before you leave the locker room. It's a health department regulation. And I'm sure you'll enjoy your two weeks." There was something enigmatic in her smile and words.

The two roommates went into the locker. Stan gave a wary glance at Mack, before shrugging his shoulders and stripping. He figured that Mack had seen him naked often enough, so it really didn't matter knowing that Mack was gay. He'd never seen any indication of Mack leering at him or ogling him. Besides, Stan wasn't exactly a hunk of a physical specimen. He pulled on his swim trunks and slipped sandals on his feet.

A few lockers down, Mack focused on getting changed. He glanced up a couple of times to see how Stan was reacting, but from what he saw, Stan was acting like he always had. Mack realized that he'd been holding his breath anxiously to see if Stan was going to do or say something. Mack slowly relaxed, easing out his breath. As soon as he had his swim trunks on, Mack strutted to a mirror, and flexed his muscles, rewarding himself with the sight of his lean, trim body with nary a hint of excess fat.

"Knock off the posing, Arnold," Stan chuckled. "Let's get showered and go in the park." He reached in a shower stall and turned the handle. Surprisingly, as he stepped in, he felt a warm, comfortable spray instead of the cold blast he'd expected. "Nice showers," he called out to Mack.

Mack had stepped into his own shower. "Yeah," he echoed. The water spray seemed to be taking away his tension and aches, soothing every muscle in his body. "I wonder if we can get a shower head like this for the apartment."

A few minutes later, two screams erupted from the men's locker room. Grinning with anticipation, Anya yanked open the exit door and walked purposefully into the men's locker room. "Ah, I see you found our little secret," she chuckled.

"What? Why are we women?" the tall one, who'd been Mack, stammered. She was taller than average, and athletically trim, like Mack had been, but with moderate female curves adding to her figure.

"Magic," Anya said simply, still smiling her unsettling smile.

"Magic? That's impossible!" the one who'd been Stan shouted.

"Then how do you explain this?" Anya asked.

Both of the former guys stared at Anya, trying to think of something that might explain what had happened, but they could find no other explanation.

"Why?" Stan asked, his voice cracking with the strain of his emotions.

"The park is for women only," Anya explained. "So the magic changes men who enter into women."

"Then change us back," Mack demanded.

Anya shook her head. "Ohhh, sorry, but I can't. You're women until your passes expire." She saw slow realization dawn on their faces. "That's right. You have two-week passes. For the next two weeks, you get to live life on the other side." She looked at Stan. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Shelly Lynn Woods," she said, her eyes widening as she spoke. It wasn't clear if it was because of the name she'd automatically said, or the softer, feminine voice in which she'd spoken, or both. "Why did I say that?" she asked Anya, her eyes misting in distress.

"The magic rewrote reality. In this reality, you've always been Shelly Woods. Everyone knows you as Shelly. Stan didn't exist in this reality."

"And I'm ... Janet McGarvey?" Mack asked softly. She seemed to be having a lot less trouble with the altered reality.

Anya nodded. "And there's one more thing. Close your eyes."

Puzzled, Janet did so.

"Now imagine a romantic situation."

Again, Janet followed direction. Her muscles relaxed, and her breathing deepened as she imagined what had to be a steamy, romantic scene. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide. "You ... you changed me!" she screamed angrily at Anya.

"You're still gay. But since you're a woman in this reality ...."

Shelly realized what Anya was saying. "You're attracted to women." Shelly frowned. "So that means ... I'm attracted to guys?" She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Try doing what Janet just did. Close your eyes and imagine a romantic scene."

Shelly frowned, but then she followed Anya's direction. A moment later, her eyes popped wide open in surprise. "I'm ... I'm gay, too?" she said in shock and disbelief.

Anya smiled. "You wanted to have women attracted to you, right? You wanted to spend time with a woman, so this way, it all works out. And besides, it takes care of Janet's little secret."

Janet's eyes were wide again. "Please, no," she begged. "Don't say it."

Anya glanced her way. "One thing that Mack never told you is that, when you were both men, he was very much in love with you."

Shelly's mouth dropped open, and she slowly turned to Janet. "Is this true?"

Janet wasn't looking at Shelly. Her face was a mix of anger and humiliation. She didn't reply to Shelly, but turned to Anya. "You had no right to tell my secrets!" she screamed at Anya, stepping forward and balling her fists. "It wasn't bad enough to reveal that I'm gay, you had to say something that would ruin our friendship!"

An unpleasant expression flitted across Anya's features. "Don't even think about it," she hissed in a voice which made both girls flinch.

"Why?" Shelly asked again, almost weeping. "Why did you do this to us?"

"Well, besides the fact that it's always amusing to watch guys adjusting," Anya answered flippantly, "your destiny lines are supposed to be tied together, and this helps that goal."

"What gives you the right to interfere in our lives like that?" Janet demanded in a sullen voice.

"The same thing that gives me the power to turn you into women." Anya looked coolly at the two. "Now, you can go out, after you put on your bikini tops," she said, suddenly holding matching bikini tops for the two girls, "or I can give you some mental adjustments so you cooperate more."

"No," Shelly stammered, white with fear at what Anya had implied, "that won't be necessary." She glanced at Janet for reassurance. There was something in their brief exchanged glance that made Shelly tremble a little as she gasped softly.

Anya had noticed. "I'll leave you two girls to have a fun day in the park. If you need anything, the staff will be more than happy to help." She turned and strode confidently from the locker room, leaving Shelly and Janet gazing at each other, a longing desire slowly building between them.

**********

The crowd in the mall seemed to ignore Grandmother as they meandered about their business. That was fine with Grandmother; she wasn't at the mall for shopping, even though Anya believed she had to get some clothing altered. The clothing was even in a garment bag, to lend credibility to the ruse. In fact, Grandmother was looking for a very special store.

She seemed to be the only one who saw the health food store shimmer, and then change, as if by magic, to an old-fashioned storefront with a door and a plain sign that said, 'Spells R Us'. Grandmother smiled; it was like her old friend to have that little extra bit of magic so that even people inches away from the store didn't notice its appearance.

As soon as it was solidified, she tugged open the door, causing a little bell to tinkle overhead. Such a quaint – and nostalgic – touch, she thought. The store seemed to be a jumble of just about everything, from toiletries to jewelry, from costumes to computer games. Grandmother smiled to herself; she knew that each and every item in the store had a magic enchantment on it, designed to usually change the purchaser into a young, buxom woman if he didn't precisely follow the instructions. Of course, that was a given; men seldom took the time to read instructions or if read, failed to follow them explicitly.

"Ah, my friend. So nice to see you again." The storekeeper said with charm and delight. He wore what appeared to be an old, blue bathrobe; if he'd had a pointed cap, he would have quite resembled a magician of old. "What brings you to my little store?"

Grandmother swept him into a warm embrace. "You should know, you old coot," she said affectionately. "Or weren't you spying on me? Were you too busy watching the antics of your latest victims, er, customers, after they mistakenly changed?"

The wizard smiled and nodded. "Guilty. It is one of life's simpler pleasures – watching the shocked expression of the customers when they realize that they screwed up and are now stuck as well-endowed young women."

"You're a dirty old man, and don't you deny it!" Grandmother chuckled.

"Guilty as charged!" he answered with a grin. Then his expression changed. "You didn't come to talk about my ... powers of observation," the wizard said. He wrinkled his brow in concentration. "It's about Anya, isn't it?"

Grandmother nodded solemnly. "She's ... getting out of control." She climbed on one of the stools which the wizard had conjured from thin air, while he sat on the other. "She's ... getting reckless and mischievous in some of the changes she's directing." She shook her head. "In a way, she's acting more like you than me."

"Perhaps then she should apprentice to me for a while?" the wizard said with an impish grin.

"I'm trying to figure out how to make her stop, not encourage more mischief!"

"What do you want from me?"

Grandmother shook her head. "I don't know. I guess mostly I need someone to talk to. Someone who can listen, and maybe offer advice. I'm afraid for her. I'm afraid that she's going down the same path as ... Chessa." Her voice trembled at the name of her daughter.

"I've been watching," the wizard said reassuringly. "After all, this is a very dangerous age for her. So far, she's acting more confused than wicked, but I can't quite figure out why."

"I can't either. Jozef has been checking out her new friend, Oksana, who's from the old country, to see if maybe she's involved. But neither he nor I can detect anything malicious or evil about her."

"She's not from the old country," the wizard said with certainty. "But I can't figure out where, and what she's up to."

"I'd like it if she spent less time with her new friend. Anya is starting to hurt those around her by being so callous toward them." Grandmother sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know what to do. All I know is, I can't go through it again. Not after the last time."

The wizard put his hand tenderly on Grandmother's. "I know," he said understandingly. "I know."

"What do I do?" Grandmother sounded desperate.

"I'm keeping an eye on things," the wizard reassured her. "One thing you can't do is to try to prevent Anya from being around Oksana. That will make her angry, and we both know where that will lead."

Grandmother nodded knowingly, her face paled by the reminder. "So what can I do?"

"First, if I were you, I'd open that letter from your old clan, to see what's there. If it were me, I'd go back, even under penalty of death, to beg for help to save Anya, even if I had to pay with my own life in the end."

"How did you know that's what I'm thinking?" Grandmother asked, surprised by his comment.

"I didn't. I just told you what any good parent, or grandparent, would do."

"That's the confirmation I needed." Grandmother stood. "Thanks." She wrapped her arms around her friend in another embrace. "Since I'm here, there are a couple of things I'm looking for. And if you deal fairly with me, I'll even take you to lunch!"

The wizard laughed. "I know better than to try to trick you," he said. "Let's talk about what you need." The stools vanished, and the two walked toward a display rack.

**********

Janet and Shelly floated lazily down Old Man River, a leisurely raft ride that circled one area of the park. It was comfortable and very relaxing. But as their rafts neared an area where a faster ride merged with the river, they started to drift apart. Instinctively, Janet reached out, grasping the hand of Shelly, who likewise had reached for her friend.

There was an awkward moment as they looked at each other, pulling their rafts together after having inadvertently clutched one another's hand. Janet blushed. "Um," she stammered, not knowing quite what to say. She knew it had to be as embarrassing for Shelly as it was for her. Janet released her grasp and tried to pull her hand away.

Shelly didn't let go. "No," she said softly. "It feels nice to hold your hand. Comforting, reassuring." She looked at Janet, who'd looked up at her, startled by her words.

"Are you sure?" Janet asked meekly. She didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize their friendship, either now or after they changed back.

"No," Shelly answered, sounding quite uncertain herself, "but let's try."

Hesitantly, Janet took her hand, pulling her tube closer to Shelly's. For several minutes, they floated, wordlessly, holding hands but only occasionally glancing at each other.

"This is making things awkward, isn't it?" Shelly finally asked without looking at Janet.

"How?"

"I remember everything from ... before. But I ... feel something different when I look at you." She shook her head. "I know I should feel weird, but ...."

Janet nodded. "I know what you mean."

"But when I look at you, I ... want to kiss you," Shelly said softly. "I know it's what that girl did to us, but ... I can't help it."

"I feel the same way," Janet confessed. "But you've probably figured out that I did before, too. What do we do?"

Shelly looked up, looking directly at Janet, and she saw the same distraught look in Janet's eyes that she felt. She gazed at Janet for what seemed an eternity, but then she tugged Janet's hand, pulling her roommate closer. Because of the way they were sitting in their tubes, their heads drew closer. Shelly leaned her head toward Janet, her eyes half-closed, and she lifted her lips toward the other girl. Surprise and disbelief was quickly replaced by desire as Janet turned so her lips met Shelly's.

After a prolonged kiss, which wasn't even interrupted by some catcalls and whistles from younger girls watching the duo, Shelly pulled her head back a bit, opening her eyes to look at Janet. "I know it's not real, but it feels so nice."

In response, Janet leaned closer and planted her lips on Shelly's again, giving in to the need they both had for each other.

**********

"Janet, Shelly, can I talk to you?" The voice snapped the two girls' eyes open. They were lying in a double hammock under the palms surrounding the bleached white sand and aqua waters of the Tropical Lagoon, hands intertwined, with contented smiles on their faces.

"Excuse me," Janet said, "but who are you, and what do you want?"

"I work here," Selena explained simply, as if that should clarify all questions. She saw that the two girls didn't seem to care. "I'm one of the magic users here who control the changes when men buy tickets."

"So you're like that dark-haired girl that did this to us?" Shelly snapped. Despite the anger she was trying to project, there was a wavering uncertainty in her voice, like she wasn't totally sure she should be angry. She hadn't released her hold on Janet's hand.

"That's what I want to talk to you about," Selena said softly. "I think ... the other girl did some things that she wasn't supposed to."

"No shit," Janet cursed. "Like outing me in front of my roommate without any thought to my concerns or feelings? Or like changing me into a lesbian?"

"Or making me a lesbian, too," Shelly added.

"And then ... she revealed ... something ... that I was never, ever going to tell," Janet snarled. "What gave her the right to do that?"

A tiny shake of her head, eyes half-closed, was the only visible sign of Selena's distress at what she'd heard so far. "Nothing gave her that right," she said. "She had no right to do that." She took a deep breath, her lips pursed tightly together as she frowned. "I'd like to have you talk to Grandmother, er, the park owner."

"Why?" Janet asked nervously. "Will she ... undo all of this?" She glanced at Shelly, knowing that when the changes were undone, Shelly would be Stan, and would know of Mack's love. Everything would come unraveled, and Mack would lose all.

"No," Selena replied, having read Janet's fears. "She can't undo the magic until the pass expires. Beyond that ...." She shrugged. "It'll depend on what you want."

Janet recalled something that Anya had told her earlier. "The other girl said ...."

Selena shook her head. "Please, let's not discuss this here. Perhaps we should take this conversation to the office, and discuss this with Grandmother."

Shelly and Janet exchanged a nervous glance; they weren't certain that they should trust another magic-user.

"I'll get you vouchers for dinner in the Volcano Restaurant tonight. It's one of the best restaurants in the city, and the view from the volcano during sunset is ...," she paused, remembering the times when she'd dined there with her partner Brandy, "fabulous." She couldn't help the dreamy look in her eyes and the lilt in her voice as she recalled that romantic dinner.

Janet instantly wanted to take Selena up on the offer, but she was terrified of what Shelly would think or say. It was Shelly who decided; she looked at Janet to see if Janet had the same passion in her eyes that Shelly felt, and then turned back to Selena. "You've got a deal," she announced, the same dreamy tone in her voice that Selena had when she'd described the restaurant.

The two girls clambered out of the hammock and followed Selena to the office area. Without looking, Selena could tell that the two were holding hands, both to comfort one another in their nervousness, and because of their mutual attraction. She smiled to herself. She knew that both girls were very reluctant to talk to another magic user, but she also strongly suspected that Anya had tampered with their sexualities. The vouchers sealed the deal, but the discussion of the romantic, sunset dinner got her thinking that it was way past time to bring Brandy back for another special evening.

The girls were right behind Selena when she walked into the office building. It took a second for their eyes to adjust; as soon as they did, the girls looked around.

An old woman rose from behind a massive desk and walked to the two girls. She extended her hand toward theirs, and after a bit of hesitation, Shelly and Janet shook her hand. "Can I get you something to drink? Soft drink? Iced tea? Water?"

Shelly shook her head. "No, thank you."

When Janet likewise indicated no, Grandmother smiled. "I won't be so rude as to drink my root beer in front of you, then. Please," she directed the girls, gesturing to the informal seating area, "have a seat." She glanced at Selena, nodding to her, too. "It seems that Selena thinks I should have a talk with you."

"They weren't sure they wanted to talk about what happened," Selena said as she gracefully eased herself into a chair. "I ... had to bribe them with dinner vouchers to the Volcano Restaurant."

"Oh, you'll love it!" Grandmother gushed suddenly. "You must try the Polynesian Chicken. It's simply delicious. And the view ...."

"I already gave them the sales pitch, Grandmother," Selena said with a smile.

"Oh, well then I don't need to continue on about how good it is, or how much I think you'll love it."

"Why do you want to talk to us?" Janet asked nervously, glancing at Shelly, whose hand she was still holding.

Grandmother looked at Selena. "Well?"

Selena winced. "Anya ... sold them their passes. She put some ... unusual changes in them."

Grandmother seemed perplexed. "That’s our business here," she said. Her expression froze when she saw the look on Selena's face.

"She altered Shelly's sexuality – after she outed Jim and then spilled the beans on his secret love for his roommate Stan." Selena's tone was carefully neutral, but her eyes betrayed her scorn and distaste at what Anya had done.

Grandmother's jaw dropped. She looked at the two girls, and knew immediately from the looks on their faces that Selena wasn't making something up. "Can you please tell me, in your own words, what happened, an also, anything ... unusual ... that Anya might have said to you."

Nervously at first, but with increasing confidence, Janet and Shelly began to recount the story of the morning's encounter with Anya. As they did so, uninterrupted by either magic user, the expression on Grandmother's face darkened with their every word. Finally, the two girls finished their tale, and they sat, silently and fearfully staring at the old woman, who was very obviously angry. Her eyes were narrow slits, and her fingers were interlocked in front of her face, her elbows propped on the arms of her chair.

After a few uneasy silent moments, Shelly spoke up. "What now?" she asked nervously.

Selena turned to the girls and held up her finger to her lips, indicating that the girls should remain quiet. "She's summoning her granddaughter," she whispered to the two girls.

From nowhere, Anya appeared in the office, startling the girls, but not Selena or Grandmother. "You wanted to see me?" she asked innocently. She wasn't wearing her staff uniform, but instead rather fashionable slacks and a blouse. A beret was perched rakishly on her head, and her arms held several shopping bags with French-looking names on them.

"Where were you?" Grandmother asked. She was expending more than a little effort to keep her voice neutral and calm.

Anya shrugged. "Oksana and I went shopping."

"From your bags, I take it you went to Paris?"

Anya smiled. "Of course. There are some fabulous new designs, and the perfumeries are nothing short of fabulous!" She got a coy look. "I think I found a perfume that will knock Greg's socks off."

Grandmother got right to the point. "You sold these two their passes?"

"Yes."

"With the modifications they've described – two-weeks, and changing Shelly's sexual orientation?"

"It fit what they were looking for," Anya said as if was obvious.

"You took some significant liberties in interpreting their destinies, didn't you?" Grandmother chided her.

"Oh, like you never have!" Anya sassed back. "They are meant to be together. Now they are – and they're such a cute couple."

Shelly was fuming. "You had no right ...!" she started to exclaim.

"When you bought your passes, you gave me the right," Anya huffed back.

"You outed me!" Janet cried. "Did you have _that_ right? Or to tell my secret that you probably knew I didn't want told?"

"It was one way to ...." Anya said through clenched teeth. The shopping bags slipped to the floor.

"Anya!" Grandmother barked, "sit down."

"But Grandmother ..." Anya started to protest.

"I said, sit down!" Grandmother repeated, rising from her chair.

"No," Anya answered firmly. She waved her fingers, chanting something, and she disappeared with all her shopping bags.

Grandmother sank slowly back into her chair, her mouth agape, the blood drained from her face.

Shocked, Selena decided to recover the situation. "I don't know that we need to bother you anymore," she said to Shelly and Janet. "Let me get you vouchers ...."

"Anything they want, anywhere in the park, for the duration of their passes," Grandmother said softly, still staring at the vacant spot that had recently been occupied by her belligerent granddaughter.

Selena nodded. "Can I see your passes?" she asked. When the girls handed her their cards, she waved her fingers over the plastic. "These are coded for any of the services and amenities in the park as long as your passes are valid." She handed them back to the two. "Enjoy your stay." She glanced, and saw that Grandmother was still sitting, unmoving, staring. Selena turned back and offered her hands to the two. "Why don't you get back to fun and games?" she asked, leading them to the door.

When she returned, she went first to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of soda for Grandmother. After putting some ice in a glass, she poured the soda and took it to Grandmother, setting the glass on a coaster on the nearest end-table. "Grandmother?" she asked softly, "are you okay?"

The old woman looked to have aged about twenty or thirty years in the span of minutes. Her cheeks were wet from tears which trickled from her eyes. "No," the old woman answered softly. She shook her head slowly. "I saw this happen once before. I swore I'd do everything I could to prevent it from happening again, but I don't know how to stop it."

"What?"

Grandmother looked at Selena, and saw concern in her eyes. And there was more. There was ... love? Like a child loving a grandparent? "I didn't think I'd ever tell anyone what happened before," she said, "but you need to know."

"Know what?"

"Anya is doing what her mother, my daughter Chessa, did," Grandmother sobbed, "before Chessa turned evil."

A chill pierced Selena's heart. She realized – Grandmother understood her far better than she'd once believed.

"I ...," Grandmother began, then she couldn't stop her anguish any longer. "I ... had to fight Chessa in the end. I ... had to kill my daughter ... to stop her." Her head lowered into her upturned hands, and she began to convulse with her sobs.

Selena's mouth dropped open in shock. Grandmother knew exactly how she'd felt. Wordlessly, she rose, crept to the chair, squatted beside it, and put her arm around the old woman. Gently, she guided Grandmother's head onto her shoulder, letting the old woman's tears moisten her shirt.

**********

Liz looked up when she sensed that something had disturbed the atmosphere in the club. It was as much instinct as anything, but even before the others at her table – Jenny, Melinda, and Kyle – realized. The laughter at Jenny's story died in her throat as her head turned.

Kyle, her paramour, noticed when Liz's body tensed. "What?" he asked, suddenly concerned. He followed her gaze.

The sensation was spreading throughout the crowd. Guys who'd been talking stopped, their heads turning toward the disturbance. Girlfriends looked, and then their expressions hardened into the steely glare of jealousy.

Riding on this wave of attention, two girls strutted into the Coconut Club, one with brown hair, and the other black. Their dresses were almost indecently short, and the brown-haired girl bared her shoulders in the sleeveless, teal-colored, tight-fitting dress. The dark-haired girl wasn't quite as sensuously attired, but she nevertheless drew attention. Both girls sported figures that most girls would kill for, and their makeup was style-magazine perfect. The brown-haired girl strode with the confidence of someone who knew she was a guy-magnet and was relishing in it. The dark-haired girl seemed a little less certain in her body language, but seemed well-aware of how sexy she looked, and mostly comfortable with the look.

The dark-haired girl paused to look around, and after spying Liz and her friends, pointed at the table, talking excitedly. The duo changed course, heading for where the Bikini Beach friends were enjoying their drinks.

"What the hell is Anya doing dressing like that?" Jenny asked with a scowl. "And without Greg."

Liz shook her head. "They've been ... distant for a while," she replied, her voice heavy with sadness. "Ever since _she_ came." Her words dripped with disdain for Oksana, Anya's brown-haired companion.

"She's doing _everything_ with Oksana these days," Jenny commented acidly. "I heard that she's stood up Greg nearly a dozen times, and he's getting pretty pissed about it."

"Is she ... defecting to the other side?" Melinda asked hesitantly. Her eyes were glued on the pair walking slowly toward them.

"I don't think so," Liz observed. "Oh, crap! We've got a table that will seat six," Liz added with a scowl. "I bet they're going to invite themselves to join us."

At that moment, two guys approached the pair of girls. Anya seemed a little uncertain, but Oksana was reveling in the attention, and let one of the guys lead her to the dance floor. Anya let the other guy know she wasn't interested, and continued her journey, albeit with a few interruptions to turn down offers to dance.

"Hi, guys," Anya said cheerfully as she scooted in an empty chair at their table. "What's new?"

Liz looked coolly at her friend. "Where's Greg? I haven't seen you with him for a while."

"Studying or something," Anya said dismissively. "His classes are keeping him pretty busy lately."

"Or she's too busy with _her_ to spend time with him," Melinda whispered softly to Jenny.

A frown crossed Anya's face as she glared for a moment at Melinda, but she put her smile back on.

Kyle could sense that things were a little tense, so he scrambled to his feet and extended a hand to Liz. "How about a dance?"

Liz eagerly took his hand, and walked with Kyle to the dance floor. "Thanks," she said softly.

"What's going on?" Kyle asked over the loud beat of the music. Fortunately, it was a slow dance, so they were able to talk as Kyle held Liz close. "As soon as Anya and Oksana came in, you guys got really tense."

"Anya's acting really weird since Oksana came," Liz answered. "It's almost like she's a different person. Not a very nice person, either."

"Oh?"

"Vicky was in tears the other day when Anya stood her up for doing some bridal stuff. And she was quite brusque with Mel a few days ago." She leaned against Kyle's shoulder. "I wish ballroom dance class hadn't been cancelled tonight. Then we wouldn't have to deal with that ... stuff. It'd be just you and me." Kyle's response was to smile and hold Liz tighter as they swayed to the music.

A couple of dances later, they reluctantly walked back to the table, where Liz could see that Oksana's companion had dragged another chair to their table, making it a little more crowded. As they neared the table, they saw Oksana flinch from something, and then she waved her hands lightly. To Liz's horror, the guy who'd been accompanying Oksana quickly morphed into a hot blonde beauty in a dress that was even more revealing than Oksana's.

Liz sat down with Kyle, staring open-mouthed at Oksana. "What the hell?" she began to ask.

"Thad was getting a little pushy and rude," Oksana said as if nothing had happened. "He was trying to touch me ... inappropriately, and in public, too! He needed a little education in not being so boorish toward women."

Beside Liz, Anya was chuckling heartily at Oksana's prank. "He'll learn after being pawed all night!" Oksana rose with the new girl, who had a dazed look on her face, and led her toward the bar.

"Anya!" Liz hissed. "That was just wrong of her, and you're laughing at it?"

Anya simply shrugged, still smiling. "He'll learn to treat women with a little more respect. It's no big deal."

Jenny practically bolted from her chair and helped Melinda stand. Both had expressions of stunned disbelief. "We, uh, have to get back to make sure Natty is okay. We can't leave her alone too long." The grabbed their purses and hastened from the club, glancing nervously over their shoulders at Anya as they fled.

Liz scowled at Anya, who seemed baffled by Liz's concern. "That wasn't right," Liz said plainly, "and you know it. And you're acting like it was a joke?" She stood abruptly. "Come on, Kyle," she said firmly. "I feel like going to the chocolate bar for some dessert."

As they departed, leaving her alone at the table, Anya's mind swirled with conflicting and confusing thoughts. It was just a harmless prank, like Oksana said. No harm, and the guy would learn a lesson. But there were nagging doubts in her mind telling her that it _was_ wrong, and certainly nothing to laugh about. She'd offended her friends with her callous disregard for the guy, making them feel like they didn't want to be around her. She felt a mental tug-of-war between feeling indignant that her friends had left so abruptly and rudely, to feeling guilty that she'd done something wrong that had made them _want_ to leave. It was all so confusing, like so many things had become lately.

**********

Shelly gazed longingly over the table at Janet, the romantic lighting of the restaurant adding to the tingle she felt from the wine and from Janet's presence. "What do you want to do now?" she asked. "I think they want to close."

Janet didn't need to glance around to see that there were only three couples left, and that the wait staff seemed to be anxious for them to leave. She could hardly take her eyes off Shelly. "I want to sit here and stare at your loveliness," she said, her voice a bit slurred from the wine she'd drunk.

Shelly felt her knees wobble at Janet's words. They echoed her own sentiments. "But ... I think they're going to close, and we have to go."

"You're afraid, aren't you?"

Shelly stared at Janet, surprised for a moment. "Yeah," she said, dropping her gaze. "I'm ... I don't know what I want."

Janet reached across the table and gently lifted Shelly's chin until she was staring directly in her eyes. "I think you do."

Shelly tried desperately to deny her feelings. "What ... happened earlier – that was just, you know, kissing and holding hands."

"And you want more, don't you?" Janet asked confidently.

"What ... what does this mean ... for after?" Shelly stammered, torn between her need for Janet and her fear of the future.

"Let's worry about the future when it comes," Janet said confidently, moving her hand up to tenderly stroke Shelly's cheek. With her other hand, she lifted her glass of wine and took a sip, seductively licking her lips as she set the glass back down.

"I ... I've never ... you know," Shelly confessed, lowering her gaze once more. "I'm ... scared."

Janet rose slowly and took Shelly's hand, helping her up from her chair. "I'll be gentle," she said softly. "I promise."

The two walked from the restaurant, and down the well-lit path from near the summit of the artificial volcano. Janet held Shelly's hand tightly, holding her close, giving her reassurance against her fears and uncertainties.

At the base of the concrete and stone mountain, Janet smiled. "I suspected that you hadn't, you know."

"Well," Shelly said with a nervous smile, "some of us didn't have your chiseled body or movie-star good looks."

"That didn't help me score with the ladies," Janet chuckled.

"You weren't _looking_ for the ladies," Shelly giggled.

"True," Janet agreed. "But now you've got the looks," she said, pausing to stare into Shelly's eyes, and then look up and down her body. "And the killer bod to go with it."

Shelly blushed. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Just one," Janet said before she stopped, swinging the hand holding Shelly's so that the other girl swung around. Janet wrapped her arms around Shelly as her lips eagerly sought Shelly's.

Several minutes later, after a number of restaurant patrons had scooted beside the two women passionately kissing on the walkway, Shelly let herself ease back from the kiss. "Wow!" she said softly. "You're going to knock me off my feet."

"And straight into my waiting arms," Janet cooed.

Shelly felt a tremble of nervous excitement. "I'm ... I ...."

Janet put her finger over Shelly's lips. "Shhh," she whispered. "Let's just savor the moment, and then we can go home."

When Janet helped Shelly into the passenger seat of her car, she smiled confidently. She slipped behind the wheel, and as she inserted the key, she turned to look at Shelly sitting with a look that was a combination of doe-eyed fear and uncontrollable lust. Janet leaned over toward Shelly, and turned her lips toward the innocent girl. In moments, the two were kissing eagerly again, their hands roaming freely over each other's body as their smoldering passion ignited into a roaring blaze.

They paused for a moment, and Shelly clung tightly to Janet. "Please don't stop," she begged.

"Let's get home first," Janet replied with a grin. "And then it's play-time." She leaned over and gave Shelly one more kiss, which Shelly tried hard to prolong, before she started the car.

**********

Standing on the new concrete wearing a hardhat, staring alternately at the construction drawings on his tablet computer, and then at the pool and columns being erected around it, Greg looked less like a twenty-something college student than a project manager. Beside him was a tall, well-muscled Amazonian woman, also wearing a hardhat, but where Greg had on Dockers and a polo shirt, the woman had well-worn denim jeans and a faded T-shirt.

"Can we get the pool crew in here while you guys finish up the columns?" Greg asked.

"Part of it, but there's heavy work with the crane getting the columns up, and it's too dangerous to have the guys in the pool working. Besides, if one of the columns slips, we lose everything that they will be doing."

"Shit. Is there anything we can do to get back some of the time we lost? Double shift?"

The woman said sternly, "I'm doing everything I can to get back on schedule."

Greg sighed. "I know, Beth, but Grandmother was counting on opening this part before Thanksgiving."

"I can't control the weather, Greg," Beth answered. "And I don't want to push double-shift again if I don't have to. Not unless your boss wants to cough up the extra dough. Because it sure as shit isn't coming out of my bottom line."

"Beth, you know I wouldn't ask you to do that," Greg replied, hurt by her insinuation. "And neither would Grandmother."

"I've got every woman who's in the construction trades working on this job. There _aren't_ any more in a five county area!" She shook her head. "I don't understand the big deal about women only that your boss insists on. It seems ... weird."

Greg winced. He hated it when Beth brought this subject up, which she often did. "She has a contract with the clients. No men in the park at all. Period, end of discussion."

"Okay, okay. I get it, again," Beth sighed. "Too bad I can't just dress some of the other workers in drag so we could catch up. I could really use some of their skills right now."

Greg started to reply, but stopped. For a moment, he looked thoughtfully at Beth, considering her words. "Are some of those guys single?"

Beth frowned at him. "I ... didn't know that was your style," she said warily. "I thought you and your boss' granddaughter were an item."

Greg started at her words, and then chuckled. "No, I'm not, and it's not about that. It's, well, it's kind of hard to explain. And I probably shouldn't; it's Grandmother's place to say. So, are there any?"

Beth scratched her chin a bit. "Yeah, there are probably a couple dozen guys who fit that bill. But ..."

"Let me talk to Grandmother, and I'll get back to you." He tucked his tablet under his arm. "I better get over to the office now. It's looking really good. You guys are doing a great job."

"Gals, you mean, don't you?" Beth said with a wicked grin. She slapped him on the shoulder, staggering him. Describing her as an Amazon wasn't far off the mark, he decided.

After a short walk from the construction site, past the ticket booth, and to the front office, Greg punched the door's combination into the keypad. In response, he heard the click of the actuator unlocking the door. He pulled the door open and stepped out of the September heat.

Out of habit, he glanced to his right, to the desk Anya normally sat at. And as quickly, he felt the anguish in his heart. As was the case lately, she was seldom at her desk, and if she was, she had her new friend Oksana with her.

"I heard that sigh from over here," Grandmother said as she spun from her computer toward him. "What's on your mind?"

"A few things," Greg answered morosely. "Work first, though." He took a seat in front of Grandmother's desk. "Beth said that they could catch up, and maybe get ahead a little, if they had a few more workers. But they've hired all the women in the construction trades in the area."

"And your idea is ...."

Greg chuckled. "You know me too well. She said that the company has a few dozen men on other sites that they could pull in, that she _wants_ to pull in, but the restriction gets in the way."

"And ...?"

"I asked if she had any single guys in the company that she could use on the job."

Grandmother guffawed. "I bet _that_ earned you a look."

"You said it!" Greg answered, beet red. "Actually, I was thinking that short-term passes to those single guys would help get labor on the worksite to get us back on schedule."

"Can't she double-shift? Overtime?"

Greg shook his head. "She doesn't want to do that again. Remember, she ran double-shift for three weeks cleaning up from the storm, and getting us back to only being a week and a half behind schedule." He shook his head. "Damn, but that storm made a mess."

"I won't argue with that," Grandmother agreed solemnly. They'd missed the brunt of the hurricane, but what they had received had been pretty devastating. To the amazement of the community, the park itself came through unscathed, although Greg and a few others knew it had been magic. He shuddered to think of what would have happened if a storm surge had swamped the park and spread the magic water around the city.

Unfortunately, the construction site wasn't yet protected by Grandmother's magic, and it didn't fare nearly as well. The first estimate was that the project would lose eight days of lost time during and immediately after the storm, while the city had been essentially shut down, and then another two weeks to clean up the mess and damage, and then another two weeks to get back to where they'd been the day before the site had felt the brunt of nature.

"At least you got some fantastic national press for the way you used the park and its resources to help the community. Everyone was impressed that you left the construction workers on your payroll while they were helping others clean up and recover."

Grandmother shook her head sadly. "It was the least I could do after so many people were displaced from their homes. A few weeks of schedule slip is nothing compared to what they could do to help others."

"Anyway," Greg continued with his original train of thought, "if Beth got some of those other workers on short-term passes, she thinks she could make up the time."

"Did you tell her ...?"

Greg knew immediately what Grandmother was asking. "No," he replied quickly. "I knew that was your place to tell her."

"When we're done, ask her to come by. I'll talk it over with her." She gazed directly at Greg. "Now, what else is on your mind?"

"There's no fooling someone who can read your mind," he chuckled, but the mirth wasn't there.

"I'm not reading your mind, Greg," Grandmother said. "I'm reading your expression, and your body language. I could see the pain in your eyes when you saw that Anya wasn't here."

Greg frowned, trying to hide his emotions. "I ...."

"You two haven't done much together lately, have you?"

"We've both been ...," Greg started to protest with a defiant stare. He saw the impassive expression Grandmother wore. He let his gaze drop. "No," he said softly, shaking his head. He felt his eyes watering – again. "She's always too busy with _her_," he complained.

"Greg," the old woman said gently to him. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm worried."

"So am I," Greg stammered, trying not to cry. Anya's treatment hurt him badly, but he really didn't want to show it – to anyone. Not even Grandmother.

"That's not what I was talking about." She saw him look up, startled, wondering what she meant. "I'm worried about you, and your safety."

"Me? My safety?"

Grandmother nodded. "My friend told you what happened when Chessa was losing control, how ...."

Greg shook his head furiously. "Anya would _never_ do something like that to me! She loves me!"

Grandmother's impassive gaze stopped his protests. "That doesn't matter. If she touches the darkness, all human emotions and bonds and loyalties – pffftt. Gone." She waved her fingers like a puff of smoke to emphasize her point. "Or if someone is trying to push her toward anger, then anyone who could be used toward that goal is in danger. That includes you. You know that Chessa was planning on using you to push Anya toward the darkness. Whatever is pushing Anya this time might try the same."

Greg just stared at her, not knowing what to say as he tried to argue with what she'd said. He couldn't, of course, and that really, really shook him to the core.

Grandmother scooted her chair back a bit and opened a drawer in her desk. She extracted a small folded piece of cloth, and then extended it across the desk toward Greg.

As he took it, he frowned, puzzled. "What is it?" he asked as he unfolded the cloth. It revealed a small silver medallion on a silver chain.

"I want you to put it on, and never, never take it off," Grandmother said firmly.

"What is it?"

"Promise me you won't take it off before I tell you. It's okay." Her solemnity rattled Greg.

"Okay," he said nervously. "I promise." He slipped the chain over his neck, then pulled his shirt collar forward so the medal would drop inside. "What is it?"

"Insurance."

"I don't understand."

Grandmother's expression wasn't at all reassuring. "If things get out of hand, it's your insurance policy. It's to protect you."

Greg felt a shudder at her words. It sounded like his life was in danger because Anya was getting out of control. He wanted to deny Grandmother's words, to show her that he needed no protection against the girl who loved him. He couldn't, though. Though his heart said otherwise, intellectually, he knew that the old woman was right.

**********

Late in the afternoon the next day, Selena sat in the ticket booth, fuming. She was supposed to have had the afternoon off so she could spend time with her girlfriend Brandy. Instead, she had to work, because Anya hadn't shown up at work.

Almost as if summoned, she felt a presence outside the booth, and she looked up from her brooding. As soon as she recognized the face, her scowl instantly became a warm, pleasant smile. "I was just thinking about you," Selena purred.

"And I'm always thinking about you," Brandy said with a smile.

"I'm sorry we couldn't spend the afternoon shopping," Selena apologized again.

"Oh, stop it!" Brandy chided. "You always say it's no big deal if I have a test or project that interferes with our plans, so you need to do the same. I know we'll have plenty of time."

"I know," Selena said meekly, "but I feel so bad. I know how much you like shopping with me, and with our class and work schedules ...." She knew it would be a while before she had another chance to spend a weekday afternoon with Brandy.

"So we'll do it another time," Brandy said encouragingly. "And neither of us has anything planned for the evening," she cooed.

Selena flinched. "Actually, I _do_ have plans for the evening already," she confessed. She saw Brandy's eyebrows rise. "Yeah," Selena said. She retrieved a paper from her purse and slid it under the ticket slot.

Brandy, frowning, took the paper and unfolded it. With one final glance at Selena, she started to read. A moment later, her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she looked at Selena, who was smiling smugly. "You!" Brandy said with mock anger.

"I figured you wouldn't mind if I made it up to you with dinner at the Volcano Restaurant," Selena said with a grin.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Give me a big hug and kiss while we get ready for dinner tonight," Selena giggled, "and another when we get home."

"Deal. Too bad that glass is in the way, or I'd show you how I say yes to an invitation to a dinner date."

"Oh," Selena interrupted, frowning. "You'd better go now." There was a sudden urgency in her voice.

"Trouble?" Brandy asked, startled by Selena's change in mood.

"Anya's coming. I'd rather you weren't around when she gets here."

"Oh." Brandy nodded knowingly. Selena hadn't kept any secrets from her. She paused to blow a kiss to Selena. "See you after work?"

"Count on it."

Selena watched Brandy's bottom sway as the girl walked away. For a brief moment, she forgot all about Anya, focusing instead on the sexy girl she would have dinner with. The sound of the door opening tore Selena from her daydreaming.

"Hi. Anything interesting happen?" Anya said as she stepped into the booth.

"No," Selena said, trying to control her emotions, but losing. "Just spending all day scrambling back and forth between classes and this boring hothouse because someone didn't bother to show up today!" she hissed. "And having to give up my afternoon plans with Brandy. That's all."

"Oh," Anya said dismissively. "I suppose you missed selling a few passes, then, if you were so busy."

"No," Selena rebutted sharply, "_you_ missed selling a few passes because you couldn't be bothered to show up to work today!"

Anya shrugged, then waved her hands. "No problem, then," she replied, acting like she didn't care that Selena had covered for her. "There. That should make up for what we would have sold."

Selena looked at her, and then, following her magic sense, opened the cash register. Without bothering to count, she knew what the total of funds was, just from her magic. "What the hell?" she demanded angrily. "You know Grandmother doesn't operate that way!"

"What's the big deal?" Anya asked. "We have our gate for the day now."

"Where were you, anyway? Off somewhere with Oksana again?"

"If you must know," Anya sounded more than a little condescending, "we were skiing."

"Skiing? In September?"

"Yeah. Valle Nevado. It's pretty good. Granted, it's nothing at all like the Austrian Alps, but it's not bad."

"So what did you two do? Decide to pop over there on the spur of the moment, and spend the day flirting with guys on the slopes?"

"Nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting," Anya rebuffed her comment.

"Except that you're hurting Greg by ignoring him," Selena countered sharply. "Or are you too absorbed with yourself and your new friend that you don't even see that?" She shook her head. "This isn't like you at all."

"How would you know what I'm like?" Anya snarled.

"I know what you _used_ to be like. The new Anya isn't anything like that. You're getting wicked with your magic."

"Maybe I just want to relax a bit, and have some fun. Maybe I deserved it, after all the shit I've been through!" Anya yelled.

"What _you've_ been through?" Selena was appalled at Anya's nerve.

"Yeah, what I've been through. You didn't see your family destroyed when your mother was killed, like I did!"

"No," Selena hissed angrily. "I had to _kill_ my mother because she got so evil. So don't give me your self-righteous 'oh, poor me' act, bitch!" She practically leaped from her chair, still glaring at Anya, and stomped into the office.

Grandmother sensed Selena's anger long before she got in the office building. "What's ...?" she started to say.

Selena's face was a mask of anger. "I quit!" she yelled. "I don't have to put up with that kind of shit! I am so out of here!" She grabbed her employee's badge and tossed it on Grandmother's desk before spinning on her heels and stomping toward the door.

Grandmother had seen the fight with her vision. "Selena, stop, please," she intoned in a pleading voice. "Please?"

"Why? So she can hurt me more?" Selena screamed.

"Selena, please sit down and take a few deep breaths."

Scowling, Selena turned and plopped down in one of the sofas. Her eyes narrow slits, she did as Grandmother had taught her quite a while ago – breathing in slowly, holding it for ten seconds, and then exhaling slowly and completely. After a few repetitions, her anger was significantly reduced, but the hurt Anya had caused wasn't.

While Selena was doing her deep breaths, Grandmother moved to the sofa beside her. She held Selena's hand, like a mother would a child's, and bit her lower lip as she struggled to find appropriate words. "Anya was way out of line with what she said, and what she did.

"No shit!" Selena exclaimed, breaking her focus on relaxation.

"Selena, I understand your anger. I understand that you want to quit after that." Grandmother's voice was very calm, a soothing balm for her hurt feelings. "But I want you to take the rest of the day off, and tomorrow, and calm yourself."

"But ...."

Grandmother shook her head. "Selena, your breathing." She saw the girl start at her gentle, almost motherly, chiding. "The worst thing you can do, as a magic user, is to react out of anger. You need to control your anger."

"But ...."

"I'll see you on Monday morning. Until then, you're on paid vacation. Please, take the time to calm yourself. Monday, if you still want to quit, I'll understand. But I want that decision made when you're calm, not upset and angry like you are now."

Selena started to object, but she closed her mouth and nodded instead. "Yes, Grandmother," she said softly.

Grandmother patted her hand. "I ... I'm not good at saying this," she stammered, "but I am very fond of you. You're like family. I want what's best for you more than I want to keep a good employee." She chuckled. "But I hope you forgive me if I'm a little bit greedy at wanting to keep you as an employee."

"I ... understand." Selena wasn't sure she could trust herself to speak.

"One thing that I really hope, and it is only a hope, is that you'll stay, and help me. Just in case."

A frown crossed Selena's brow. "Help you? In case of what?"

"I'm afraid that Anya is tempting the darkness, and if she touches it, if she starts to become ... evil, then I'll need your help to ...."

"To stop her," Selena said, feeling a chill penetrate her. She knew what Grandmother was implying; if Anya became enchanted with the dark powers, she would have to die before she could harm others. Just like Selena's mother, and Anya's mother. And Grandmother wasn't strong enough to stop Anya by herself.

**********

Shelly felt some hair tickling her nose and face as she slowly woke. She felt very contented for some reason, like a warm glow filled her entire body. As consciousness slowly crept into her mind, she realized that there was an arm draped over her body and someone cuddled behind her. She flinched at the realization, and the shock of not knowing what, or who, was in bed with him.

"Good morning, beautiful," a soft, feminine voice purred in his ear. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Shelly said softly, still not knowing who was speaking. She scooted forward, and then turned to her back, turning her head so she could look at her bed-mate.

In response, Janet planted a kiss on her lips. "Do you want breakfast, or do you want to snuggle some more."

"I ... I thought I was dreaming," Shelly said softly. "I dreamed that everything yesterday was a dream, and that we were still men. And then I dreamed that while we ... made love."

Janet smiled. "We did, my dear." She saw the look of concern and confusion on Shelly's face. "Do you have regrets?" she asked warily.

Shelly thought a moment, recalling the events of the previous night, of their tender passion, and their fiery intimacy. "No," she said. She leaned forward, and kissed Janet again. "Not at all."

An hour later, the two got out of bed. While Shelly pulled on a robe, Janet had no modesty at all, going about her morning ablutions totally nude, and giving Shelly a full view of her magnificent, athletic body. Something about Janet's figure stirred warmth in Shelly, and she wondered if she'd be able to focus on her own shower.

As she stood before the sink, trying not to gawk at Janet, who was plainly visible through the partially-fogged glass of the shower stall, Shelly realized that her feelings were in direct conflict with her memories and thoughts. She knew that the girl's spell had made her a lesbian, but it felt so natural, like being hetero had been natural when she'd been Stan. She was strongly attracted physically to Janet, but did she _love_ her roommate? It was still Mack inside that female body, and Mack had been Stan's best friend. Janet was thus Shelly's best friend. But what else were they now? It was so confusing.

Shelly finished dressing, opting for a pair of jeans and a knit top, lightly brushing her hair to remove the tangles. She pulled her hair back behind her ears to keep her brow clean, marveling as she did so how natural it felt. She knew something was missing; she wasn't putting on any makeup, and it seemed like she was partially naked without it, but she needed to get out of the bathroom, away from Janet's sexy nude body, to think a bit.

Shelly went to the kitchen and thought a moment. She put a pot of coffee on, and then paused to think about satisfying her hunger. Stan would have cooked some bacon or sausage and made pancakes. Both of those options turned Shelly's nose. For some reason, she kept thinking of a half slice of whole-wheat toast with sugar-free strawberry jam, and a bowl of cottage cheese topping a bed of fresh fruit. She frowned to herself; that would have been a warm-up for Stan, to say nothing of Mack. But for two women?

Shelly was carrying two plates of breakfast on the table when Janet emerged from the bedroom area. "Coffee smells good," she purred.

"I'm surprised you're awake without a cup or two," Shelly joked.

"I guess you're better at waking me up than coffee," Janet said with a wink. She slid into a chair and picked up a coffee cup, taking a sip. "Mmmm."

Shelly set down the plates, and then sat in the chair opposite Janet. For a few moments, the two girls ate in silence. Janet knew that there was something on Shelly's mind, and didn't want to push. Shelly wasn't quite sure how to say what she was thinking. Finally, the silence became too awkward.

"What's ...?" Janet began to ask, while Shelly simultaneously started with, "I think ..." The two stopped. "You go," Janet urged.

"How ... how does this changes things? Between us, I mean?" Shelly asked hesitantly.

Janet looked into her coffee cup for a moment. "I hope it doesn't."

"Should we pretend that last night never happened? To keep our friendship, I mean?"

"Do you want to?"

Shelly looked into Janet's eyes for a moment, and then lowered her gaze. "No. It was ... special."

"And your first?"

"Yeah."

Janet giggled. "Was it what you expected?"

"No," Shelly replied, starting to giggle herself. "I never expected that for my first time, I'd be on the receiving end." She looked up at Janet, and there was a sparkle in her eyes. "But it was ... very special."

"Special enough to want to do it again?" Janet asked, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive way.

"Didn't you get that answer this morning?" Shelly replied, feeling her cheeks burning.

"Yeah, I guess I did," Janet giggled. "Wanna go again?"

"You're insatiable!"

"With you, yes,"

"We've both got studying to do," Shelly said, interrupting the playful mood. "But if we get it done quickly, maybe we can go back to the park some more?"

Janet grinned. "That sounds like a plan."

**********

Anya rolled over again, her subconscious mind reacting and trying to rouse herself from her dream, but it didn't seem to want to let go of her. She floated in a thick fog, unable to see anything around her. Voices called to her, a jumble of noises that were barely distinguishable. She tried to focus on one, and just as she was about to understand the voice, the others became louder, drowning out the object of her attention. She stumbled around blindly, unable to see anything except faint shadowy shapes around her that flitted away as soon as she could start to distinguish one from another. She cried for help, but the response was a mocking laughter from all sides. Over it all, a few voices called her name. "Anya!" they called, but she couldn't sense any direction that the sound came from. "Anya! Let me help!" She stumbled, her confusion growing more and more intense. Suddenly, a voice boomed, momentarily drowning the other sounds. "You're a big girl, Anya," it said. "You know how to help yourself." Then it began to mock her as well, ranging from something like Greg's voice, to Grandmother's, through all her friends, and then to a voice she hadn't heard for years, a melodic woman's voice that cooed to her, "Anya, Anya! Come here, baby!" her mother's voice called. She stumbled through the thick fog some more, but it only thickened, and the voices moved around, adding to her disorientation. She sat to cry, feeling helpless and vulnerable, but even that was mocked. "Look at the little girl crying!" a voice called.

With a sudden shake, Anya bolted upright in her bed. Her nightgown was drenched with sweat, and she could feel the clammy dampness of her sheets as well. How long had she been trapped in the nightmare, the terrifying nothingness where she had no references, no landmarks, nothing familiar?

Fear showed in her eyes as she flipped on the nightlight, sighing with audible relief when the right light pushed back the darkness and gave her something of a reference point. Timidly, like a girl frightened of monsters under the bed, Anya crept to the bathroom, where she wiped her face with a damp washcloth. She stared into her own bloodshot, weary eyes.

Without warning, she turned her face upward, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Leave me alone!" she screamed to an unseen foe. "Go away!" In answer, though, she heard nothing except the water flowing through the pipes to refill the toilet tank. She collapsed onto the floor, curling up in a fetal position and sobbing softly. "Leave me alone," she said in a tiny, terrified voice, over and over.

**********

Grandmother watched Anya stroll imperiously from the office, toward the parking lot. As she's expected, her attempted conversation with Anya hadn't gone well. Though it was plainly visible to everyone, Anya wouldn't admit to being exhausted. Grandmother could read the magic, and knew that Anya had been surviving on energy drinks and energy-boost spells, and it was taking more and more every passing day to keep her feeling energized.

Far worse than the physical exhaustion, though, was the mental fatigue. Anya was less pleasant. Her perpetual, warm, friendly smile seldom showed on her face. She was terse with people; everyone on the staff had noticed, and were worried about her.

Grandmother had tried once more to warn Anya about the darkness and how sneaky it was. It tricked one into doing things that were wrong, even though they knew better. Anya had become indignant at that, protesting loudly that she knew the difference between good and evil, and was _not_ going to do anything that could even remotely be considered evil. Then she had walked out, ending the conversation.

Grandmother buried her face in her hands, feeling overwhelmed, and feeling a terrible sense of déjà vu. How many times had she had this same conversation with Chessa? And how many times had it ended the same way? She was failing Anya, just like she'd failed Chessa. She didn't have the skill or wisdom to help Anya.

Something her friend the wizard had said leapt to mind – she'd go back to the old country, to find something that would help Anya, even if it meant the ultimate sacrifice. Grandmother hadn't thought about it much after the conversation, but now she realized that she should.

She pushed back from her desk, turning and rolling her chair to her computer desk. She fumbled through a pile of letters and other correspondence, until she extracted a piece of old parchment. She sat back in her chair, looking at the letter, fear in her eyes. It was from the clan, and was meant for her, even though there was no address or other notation. On the back, joining the folds, was a wax seal. Grandmother knew the imprint in the wax; it was the signet ring that the eldest woman of the clan wore.

Slowly, the old woman slid her finger between folds to get leverage, and then pulled at the parchment to unfold it. She'd seen Anya try the same thing, but the paper hadn't budged. Now, though, the wax glowed, and she felt a tingle through her fingers. Suddenly, the wax seal was gone, and the letter unfolded.

With great trepidation, Grandmother slipped on her reading glasses from where they'd dangled from a chain around her neck. She could have used magic to correct her vision – but she'd long since forgotten those spells. Besides, in the mortal world, such things were taken as a sign of elder wisdom, and meant that a woman like her would be far more respected as a businesswoman than some young hottie.

Grandmother frowned as she started to read, and it took a moment of concentration for her to shift to her native tongue, to the old language. She read, her mouth dropping further open with each line, until it could open no further. Once she finished, she reread the note. Her arm dropped to the arm of her chair, the letter still clasped between her fingers, as she sat back, her mouth still agape and her eyes wide open in shock.

After perhaps ten minutes, Grandmother set the letter on her desk and picked up the phone. She made one call after another, quickly discussing arrangements that needed to be made. Finally, she called some of her staff. They trickled in slowly, puzzled by the sudden staff meeting, and even more puzzled by Anya's absence. Grandmother's shell-shocked appearance turned the curiosity into whispered speculation and discussion. Eventually, the key staff members were present – Liz, Jenny, Selena, and Doctor Chastity.

With a somber expression, Grandmother walked heavily to a wing chair; the others were seated on the sofas, as was normal for these 'staff meetings'. "Thank you for coming," she said simply, her voice devoid of emotion.

Liz frowned at her appearance. "What's wrong, boss?" she asked bluntly.

"Never were one to beat around the bush, were you?" Grandmother tried to joke. She wasn't in the mood, and the joke fell flat.

"But something is going on," Jenny continued the inquiry.

Grandmother drew a deep breath. "I got a letter ... from the current matron of my clan."

Eyebrows rose in varying degrees, depending mostly on how much of Grandmother's story the staff member knew. "From the old country?" Liz asked.

A simple nod answered Liz's question.

"What did it say?"

"Come home."

"What?" Jenny asked, astonished. "But ... you have a death sentence for ...."

Grandmother nodded. "Yes, I do. Nonetheless, the letter asks me to come home."

"Does it say why?" Dr. Chastity asked the obvious question.

Grandmother shrugged. "Not directly. It says that I need to complete my training."

"Why?"

"To deal with a crisis," Grandmother finished.

"Do ... do you think ...?" Selena began.

Grandmother nodded. "Yes, I'm sure the matron knows what's going on. That's why I'm going."

"But ... you're under sentence of death," Jenny protested.

"And if they can help me keep Anya from the darkness," Grandmother said, gulping nervously, "then I'd gladly give my life. I owe that much to her."

"When are you going?" Liz asked.

"I just made arrangements. My flight is first thing in the morning."

"Why are you telling us?" Selena asked, afraid that she knew the answer.

"I need you to keep an eye on Anya," Grandmother said plainly. "Especially you, Selena. You're the only one who can use magic if necessary."

"But ... she's much more powerful than I am," Selena said, swallowing uneasily.

"Yes, but I want you to make liberal use of the old chant that I taught you, the shield spell." She glanced around the group. "I want you to act normally for our customers, especially around Anya. Don't interfere with Oksana. I can't prove it, but I have a very bad feeling about that one. Selena, I'm leaving a directive that you're in charge of the magic while I'm gone."

"Anya isn't going to like that," Selena said cautiously.

"No, she isn't," Grandmother agreed. "But I own the park, not her. I've already told her that she has to manage all the paperwork and operations I normally do, plus managing her own duties. That should keep her occupied."

"What do we tell her about where you've gone? She'll read our minds if she gets suspicious."

"I'm afraid she will. That's why I want you to be honest with her. I'm going back at the invitation of my clan."

"How long will you be gone?"

Grandmother shook her head. "I don't know," she answered. "As long as it takes, I guess."

**********

Shelly pointed and laughed aloud as Janet sat up from the water. She'd just slid down the tallest water slide in the park, and her top was barely hanging on her, her breasts plainly visible. It took Janet a moment to notice what Shelly was laughing at, but when she did, she decided to not let Shelly get the better of her. She stood slowly, then flounced so her breasts swayed and jiggled in plain sight. As she pulled her top back into place, she stuck her tongue out at Shelly playfully.

"Do you want to do that again?"

Janet grinned. "You just want another peep show, don't you?"

Shelly blushed. "Well, yeah," she replied.

Janet thought of something she hadn't before. "This time, I'm going down first," she announced. "I want to see for myself that your top stayed on like you claimed."

"Uh," Shelly gasped, suddenly unsure of herself, "I won't get the show you said I could have."

Janet knew she'd caught Shelly's trick. "I didn't promise you another show. At least not here in the park," she added with a naughty giggle. "And you want to go on the slides again, so it's my turn to go first."

"I think I'd rather go lie in a hammock," Shelly announced. She turned and took a step toward the path, away from the slides.

"Oh, no you don't," Janet said firmly, taking Shelly's hand. "We're going down the slides again. Then we can go to the hammocks."

"No fair!" Shelly protested as she struggled against Janet's firm grip and tug. "You're bigger than me!"

Ten minutes later, it was Janet who was laughing at a red-faced Shelly at the bottom of the slide.

"Okay, you had your show. Now can we go to the hammocks?" Shelly pouted.

"And _I_ didn't lose my top this time down, either!" Janet bragged. "The girl at the top showed me how to hold my arms so I wouldn't lose it."

"She didn't tell me anything like that," Shelly continued to pout.

"When I was getting ready to go, I asked her not to tell you," Janet said. "It was a conspiracy."

"I knew it! You're all against me!"

Janet wiggled her eyebrows. "Not yet, but I will be later tonight."

"Ooohhhh," Shelly said in frustration, "you ...." She stopped, and then suddenly pulled Janet's face down and kissed her. "What am I going to do with you?"

"More of that, hopefully," Janet purred as she kissed Shelly back. She took Shelly's hand and led her away from the slide area toward the lagoon. Spying an unoccupied double hammock, she led Shelly to it. "I'll be back in a moment, love," Janet purred. "Raspberry ice?"

"That sounds good," Shelly agreed. She sat on the hammock and gingerly swung her legs up; she didn't want a repeat of the previous day, when her first try in one of the hammocks dumped her unceremoniously on the ground.

She'd just settled in when Janet reappeared carrying two of the treats. Shelly took one, and carefully sitting up a bit, enjoyed some of the cool refreshment. "Mmm," she purred. "Almost as yummy as you are." Her eyes were fixed lovingly on Janet.

Janet eased herself carefully into the hammock next to Shelly. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear," she replied seductively.

Not long thereafter, Shelly rolled carefully to her side, and with her head resting on Janet's arm, snuggled up close to her lover. She was so overcome by the serene setting and the proximity of Janet that she began to doze off. "I could lay here with you forever," she whispered softly to Janet.

"I told you two it would work out," a voice intruded on their loving solitude. The two girls looked up suddenly and saw the smirk on Anya's face.

Janet scowled. "The fact that we're happy right now doesn't excuse what you did," she snapped.

"Oh, doesn't it?" Anya said with a smug grin. "Tell me, do you think there was any chance whatsoever of being this close to your roommate if I _hadn't_ interfered?"

Janet sputtered as Anya's words sank in. She knew there was truth behind them, that she wouldn't have had Shelly's intimacy without Anya's magic. "That's not the point."

"That's _exactly_ the point," Anya countered sternly.

"But you’ve left us a hell of a mess once this is over," Shelly protested. "What the hell are we supposed to do when the passes expire? Did you think of that?" She was struggling to keep her anger in check.

"I can fix that for you right now if you want," Anya suggested with a wicked grin.

"No thank you!" Janet angrily retorted. "You've done more than enough for us already."

Anya gave them a knowing smile that was unnerving. "When you realize you need my help, you'll come to talk to me. Until then, ladies, enjoy your time at our park." She turned and walked away with a haughty stride.

For several moments after Anya left, Shelly and Janet just lay on the hammock, not speaking. "So what _are_ we going to do after the passes expire?"

Janet sighed heavily. "I don't know. But I don't want this to end. You know that."

"Yeah," Shelly said softly. "I know." She snuggled back beside Janet. "Can we not think about that right now? It's really a downer. I'd rather think about last night and this morning."

Janet smiled. "And maybe an encore performance?" She looked down, and saw Shelly's upturned face, with innocent, pleading eyes staring at her. She couldn't help bending her neck a little and kissing that sweet, angelic face.

**********

A heavy sigh punctuated what should have been a romantic moment in the Volcano Restaurant. Selena couldn't help herself; Grandmother had dumped a lot of responsibility on her, and had also given her a lot to worry about.

Her partner Brandy placed her hands atop Selena's on the table. "What's on your mind?" she asked.

Selena pushed away her distractions and focused instead on Brandy. She couldn't help but smile; the tall, brown-haired beauty enchanted her like none of Grandmother's spells ever could have. "Something at work. It's not important."

"If it distracts my girlfriend," Brandy said, "it's important. Now talk, or I'll have to torture it out of you later." She tried to add a menacing tone and leer.

Selena put the back of her hand against her forehead. "Oh, heavens! Whatever shall I do?" she said, going for the melodramatic reply.

Brandy laughed. "Give me the deed to your ranch!" she sneered, imitating an old western style of villain. "Or else ...."

"Oh mercy!" Selena giggled. "The deed is at the bank. Perhaps there's something else you might take in exchange?" she asked, batting her eyes.

Brandy was crying from giggling so hard. "Why yes, little lady," she managed to spit out through her laughter, "there _is_ something I'll take in exchange. You."

"Me?" Selena batted her eyes again, feigning ignorance of the sexually suggestive phrasing.

"Yes, you. After you tell me all you know."

"I'll tell, I'll tell. Just don't kick my dear sweet old mother out of the ranch!"

"Good," Brandy wiped at the tears of mirth. "Start talking. What happened at work today?"

Selena's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "You tricked me!" she hissed.

"Of course," Brandy said, still holding one of Selena's hands. "I can't let my sweetie be distracted, can I?"

Selena looked into Brandy's grayish eyes, and her resolve melted, like it always did. Brandy didn't even have to use magic to get Selena to talk. "It's more stuff with Anya," Selena finally said. "She's getting ... almost wicked."

"Like what?"

"Some of the changes she's making lately are rather extreme. It's like she's not even bothering to use her sight to figure out the right changes. Instead, she's just ... impulsive, picking changes on a whim, like she finds it amusing."

Brandy frowned. "That doesn't sound like the Anya I know."

"That's what _all_ of us are saying." Selena shook her head. "None of the girls want to go out to the club with her anymore. Which she wouldn't notice anyway, since she's spending all her time with Oksana."

"The girl from Grandmother's home?"

"That's what she says. It can't be coincidental. Anya started getting flaky about the time Oksana showed up. But none of us can detect any kind of magic."

"What if it's not something she's doing directly? What if there's magic in something that Oksana gave Anya?"

"No good. We already thought of that. The only things Oksana gave Anya were a bracelet and a pendant she claims are from the old country. She said it was a good luck charm."

"She could have enchanted it to make Anya lose her judgment."

Selena shook her head. "We checked. It has no magic. Grandmother and I don't get anything back from it when we scan it."

"What if it's cloaked?"

"What?"

Brandy shrugged. "You said that very skilled magic users can cloak their auras. What if this Oksana girl got a charm that's cloaked, so you couldn't detect its magic?"

"No, we'd notice if ...." Selena's brow furrowed. "I just thought of something odd."

"What?"

"When I tried to detect magic on it, I got nothing back at all."

"So it's not magical?"

"No, that's not the point. Even if it was normal, not enchanted, I should have gotten something back. Instead, I got nothing. It's like it wasn't there, like there was a black hole of magic in the middle of everything I was detecting." Selena's eyes were wide open. "That's it!" She leaned forward and kissed Brandy. "That's it! Whatever magic is there is cloaked somehow."

"What are you going to do?" Brandy asked.

Selena sighed. "I don't know ... yet." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "But I have to do something. Anya's been a friend. She helped me through a lot. If there's anything I can do, I owe it to her."

**********

The old woman lay back on the hotel bed and sighed. This was a fool's errand, she told herself. Flying thousands of miles, then spending hours on a train, with only a faint hope that she might be able to find someone that might possibly help her deal with Anya. The odds were horribly against her. She was under sentence of death by her clan. They probably wouldn't accept her, or even listen to her. So many of the clan had perished in the awful years of the Nazis and Communists. Even if there was someone left who might be able to teach her, learning magic was a process that extended over a lifetime, and she didn't have the luxury of that time.

And yet she was here, resting a little bit, because it was Anya, her beloved granddaughter. She _had_ to try everything she could to help the girl. She was the only family that Grandmother had left. Even if it cost her her life, Grandmother had to try to save Anya from the darkness.

She sighed, then levered herself up off the bed. "I've got to get serious about losing some weight," she told herself, this time with more conviction than her previous thousands of repetitions of that same statement. Wearily, she trudged into the bathroom to freshen up. She had to go to the tavern of which Jozef had spoken. She had to find a barmaid called Crina, and she had to convince Crina to take her to the remains of the clan. That was all she could hope for.

The image reflected from the mirror looked old and tired. Grandmother reached her hand up and lightly brushed her cheek, not quite believing the reflection. "Damn, I'm getting old," she said to herself. "Too old." She wet a washcloth and wiped her face, pausing to stare at her reddened eyes. Her wrinkles seemed deeper, more defined, mapping out the anguish and pain she'd endured so far in her life. Before she could examine the lines, she turned away from the mirror. Each line would bring her some degree of distress at the memory of what had caused it. Her fear of losing Anya to the darkness occupied enough of her mind, causing her almost more distress than she could handle, and adding to it with long-past memories might overwhelm her. She couldn't allow that. She couldn't fail Anya.

She sighed and waved her fingers, chanting softly as she did so. She stopped suddenly, and with a heavy sigh, started over. When the spell was completed, Grandmother's features were transformed; the weariness was gone, the wrinkles finer, the bags under her eyes vanished. She had on a slight hint of makeup – just enough to accentuate her best features without looking overdone. Her hair, mussed by the train ride, the breezy walk to the hotel, and a few moments of resting on a pillow, was neatly done again, with a touch of hold to keep it looking neat.

The spell took more out of her than it should have. Was she that tired, or were her powers fading that much? She didn't know. The realization that a simple spell – cleaning up her appearance – took two tries, worried her. Anya was far more powerful than she was, she knew. This, though, was a graphic demonstration of that fact. How could she, a weakened, aged, untrained magic user face Anya if things became desperate?

Closing her eyes, the old woman forcibly pushed those thoughts from her mind. She _had_ to succeed. She had to save Anya. She didn't have any choice. She took a deep breath and straightened her posture, drawing herself up to her full height – short by American standards, but a little taller than average for this area. At least, it had been that way. She hadn't been in this country for over a century. Again, she forced away thoughts of the past.

She walked confidently through the streets, looking very much like she was on a mission. She passed a couple of taverns until she came to the one Jozef and Anya had spoken of. She paused at the entrance, then pulled the door open and stepped inside.

Memories of the past returned in a torrent. The sounds, the music, the smell of the drinks and the foul cigarettes – it was all familiar. She glanced around, and noticed that many of the patrons were looking at her over their drinks or meals, sometimes through a cloud of acrid smoke. The background din of conversations faded slightly. Grandmother walked to a small table and sat down, careful to look confident, even though she felt nervous.

A young barmaid came to her table. She started to speak, but then looked over Grandmother carefully. "Can I help you?" she asked in broken, accented English.

"I've been traveling all day," Grandmother answered in the native language, "and I would like something hearty to eat. What do you recommend?"

The barmaid's eyebrows rose when she heard the native language. "Your accent is ... strange."

Grandmother tried to smile. "My ... ancestors lived in the area. They taught me the language long ago, and since I don't have much opportunity to use it, I probably have a poor accent."

"And your phrasing is more like what my grandparents and great grandparents used," the barmaid continued.

"They left this country a long time ago," Grandmother countered. "I'm sure some of what I learned was incorrect."

After agreeing to the barmaid's recommendation, Grandmother sat back, listening and watching while the barmaid scurried off. In short order, the young lady was back with a glass of the local brew.

"Thank you," Grandmother said graciously.

"We're becoming a tourist attraction," the barmaid observed. "We had a group of young ladies a short time ago who were also looking for their ancestral lands."

"Interesting coincidence," Grandmother observed.

"I don't believe in coincidences," the barmaid said critically. She was carefully studying Grandmother's actions and expressions.

The old woman understood the barmaid's scrutiny. Before she'd left over a century earlier, people were leery of outsiders. Given what Jozef had told him about the bad years, their naturally suspicious nature would have been honed until it seemed like hostility. "America is a very large country. The chances of two groups knowing each other ..."

"Are far greater than you know. Or than you're willing to admit," the barmaid added. She hurried away to tend to other customers, leaving Grandmother alone to watch and listen.

Several minutes later, the barmaid returned with a plate of food. "I hope you enjoy it."

"If it's like what I remember, I will," Grandmother said absently. She realized, too late, what she'd said, and her eyes widened. "Uh, my mother and grandmother cooked many recipes from their homes, so I ate cooking from this area often."

The barmaid looked at her with an expression of disbelief and distrust. "If you need anything else, I will get it for you."

"Perhaps a refill of my drink?" Grandmother asked.

When the barmaid returned, Grandmother looked at her with a discerning eye. "I wonder if you could help me," she said, trying not to sound as nervous as she was.

"Perhaps, and perhaps not."

"I'm looking for an acquaintance," Grandmother said.

"If your ancestors left a long time ago, it's unlikely that you would know anyone here."

Grandmother smiled. "I don't know her personally," she quickly corrected herself. "But I have heard of her."

"Then you must know the previous travelers, because we haven't had many outsiders here."

Grandmother felt her heart racing. This young lady was very sharp, and very suspicious. She paused, and while drawing a deep breath, opened her magic sense slightly, to see if the girl, or anyone else in the area, had a detectable aura. She noticed a hint of an aura, coming from somewhere nearby, but before she could localize its source, it vanished, like a door had slammed shut on it. She flinched a tiny bit – enough that the barmaid noticed.

"I was told that there is a young woman working in this tavern by the name of Crina," Grandmother said after she regained her composure.

"That's a common name," the serving girl said very carefully, her tone devoid of even a hint of emotion. "I'm afraid that I can't help you. Now I must attend to other customers." She turned away from the table.

Grandmother felt a hint of desperation. She opened her senses again, this time using her sight. She saw the tangled lines of all the lives nearby, so she began to search, as she'd learned, through the tapestry, looking for those that had a faint glow or other energy, markers of a magic user.

Without warning, the tapestry began to swirl violently, enough to cause Grandmother's sense to spin. She shook her head as she closed her eyes, trying to shut out the brutally disorienting mess that her sense had picked up. From the corner of her eye, she saw the barmaid peering intently at her. She sighed. She had to be patient. It had taken Anya and Jozef two days to get contact. She couldn't be in a rush. And yet, she knew that Anya's very existence depended critically on her, and she couldn't waste any time.

**********

Anya looked up from the computer. She sensed someone coming, a male patron who wanted to meet girls. A sly grin slowly formed. She stood and walked out to the ticket booth, opening the back door and stepping into the air-conditioned haven. "I'll take over for a bit," Anya said to Selena.

Selena glanced up warily at Anya. She had orders from Grandmother, and Anya knew it. "Uh, I've got this so you can take care of running the business."

"Yeah, I know," Anya said. "But you've been here all day, and you need a break. Besides," she said with a smile, pausing to yawn first, "I've been at the computer all day, and I need a break, too."

"There's a college kid coming. Nerdy type, but he reads as a pretty nice guy. Kind of naïve, too. He wants to meet some girls," Selena reported, letting Anya know that she was paying attention.

"I think I can get him something special," Anya said with an unsettling smile.

"A standard change should to it for him," Selena said. "But I'm sure you know that, don't you?" She didn't know, but said it to put Anya on notice that anything more than a standard change was all Anya's doing, and would probably be reported to Grandmother.

"He'd have more fun _my_ way," Anya protested. "A lot more fun."

"He doesn't deserve to be a big-titted bimbo slut for a few days. He's just a simple kid who doesn't understand the first thing about women."

Anya frowned. "A few nights of getting laid should cure his naiveté in that area."

"Grandmother would sell him a pass with a simple change," Selena reiterated. She didn't need to see in order to know that Anya's look shot daggers at her.

"Yeah, whatever. Take a break, and I'll take care of this for a bit." Anya slid into the chair in front of the window as Selena vacated it.

Selena paused in the doorway, glancing nervously over her shoulder. If Anya noticed, she didn't give any indication of that. Knowing that Anya was determined to sell the pass, Selena couldn't help saying, once more, "Just a normal pass should do for him."

"I've got this," Anya replied, her tone impatient and even a bit cross. "Go take a break."

Selena sighed and left the booth. She debated going to the employee's hut, inside the park, with its refreshments and camaraderie of the staff, but she really didn't feel like socializing. She had a problem with Anya, and had been given a huge responsibility by Grandmother. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that Anya had pushed her aside to sell a pass; she'd expected it sooner or later.

Selena grabbed a diet soda from the refrigerator in the office building, and then flopped on one of the sofas and popped the can open. As she sipped the cold, carbonated liquid, she let her magic senses extend toward the ticket booth.

She could see the young man approaching, a freshman at the college, very timidly asking for a ticket. She knew the speech – Anya would tell him that it was a members-only park, but that they had some guest passes. She could sense so clearly what he wanted – to learn something about girls, because he was painfully shy around the fairer creatures, and he was desperately lonely. A couple of days as a girl would teach him that girls weren't some mystical, unapproachable goddesses, but were people like he was, and that if he only showed some self-confidence, he'd find it much easier to talk with girls without getting tongue-tied. The intimacy angle would come later, when he was ready.

Selena felt the magic flowing into the card that Anya was preparing for the boy. She felt the intricacies of the spell, the nuances being woven into the particular magic for the boy.

In the booth, Anya felt the tendrils of fate surrounding the boy as he approached the window. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting a bit of tension flow from her body as she exhaled slowly. Her eyelids were heavy; she didn't want to pry them open, but only to enjoy a rest. The thought of falling asleep, though, and having it interrupted by the nightmares – again – rattled her, and her eyes popped open. "Good morning. How can I help you?" she asked with a pleasant smile. It seemed more and more difficult to smile, though, because of her fatigue. So far, no-one had noticed, because of coffee and repeated use of 'pep' spells to keep herself awake. It was that, or feel like death warmed over.

"Um," the boy stammered nervously, "my sister said that this was a good water park, so I'd like to buy a ticket for the weekend." He was intimidated by Anya's beauty, just as he was by any good-looking girl.

"This is a members-only park," Anya went through the normal speech. "But we do have some guest passes available." She quoted a price for a two-day pass to the young man.

Without batting an eye, the young man took out his wallet and paid for the pass. Anya smiled once more, and then began to enter data into her computer. She thought for a moment as she began to weave the spell; Selena had been most insistent on a normal genetic change. But something tugged at Anya. She was certain that if he had a more elaborate change, he'd learn a lot more about women, and a lot more quickly.

She shook her head. Why was it confusing? Unless there was a compelling reason, the ticket was to be a simple, straightforward genetic change. How many times had she and Grandmother discussed, or outright argued, this point? And when that happened, she was the one arguing for the simpler change. But ... there was something telling her that he needed more. Anya slammed her mind to those thoughts. She punched in the rest of the data to give the boy a simple change.

As she did, a dark grey fog seemed to envelop her. She was acting without thinking, without being aware of actually doing anything. She seemed to float, as a partially blinded observer, watching what transpired below through a mist, details unclear. It was all dreamlike, unreal.

Serena bolted upright, the word "No!" erupting in a scream. She dashed for the door into the plaza, then ran toward the men's locker room. As she effortlessly pulled the door open, her strength magnified by nothing more than adrenaline, she heard the hissing of the showers operating. A wave of helplessness tried to overcome her, but she forced herself around the corner, just in time to see a confused young man emerge from the showers. Already, his body was changing, gaining curves in abundant quantities as his chest swelled into very large boobs, while his waist contracted and his hips expanded and rounded. His brown hair was rapidly losing color as it became both blonde and much longer, cascading down to his shoulders, and then the tresses split, part going to the youth's front, and part to his back.

There was genuine panic in the boy's eyes as he tried to comprehend what was happening to him. His jaw flapped a few times as he tried to speak, but the extent of changes overwhelmed his brain, and no words came forth. Finally, the changes slowed, and with it, the fire in his eyes dimmed somewhat.

Selena fought the combination of anger and frustration in her. "Here," she said simply, handing the newly-formed girl a bikini top which matched her bottom. "Put this on." Absently, the girl took the bikini top and tied it on quickly and easily, as if she'd been doing it all her life. "What's your name?" Selena asked, afraid of the answer she knew she'd get.

"Tiffany," the girl said, giggling a little at the sound of her voice. "Most boys call me Tiff."

Selena groaned to herself. It would be something like Bambi or Tiffany or some other bimboish name. "Anya!" she roared angrily. "Get your butt in here!"

Tiffany looked around the room. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, sounding a little ditzy.

"Someone who needs to come right now!" Selena said insistently.

The front door opened, and Anya strolled in. Her visage was unpleasant, bearing a look of annoyance at being summoned, and by, of all things, an employee. "What?"

"I thought you were going to do a simple change!" Selena snapped at her.

"I did. Just a simple genetic change," Anya countered.

"Then explain _this_!" Selena pointed at Tiffany.

Anya looked at the newly-transformed girl, and her jaw dropped. "But ... I did a standard pass!" she protested. "I'm sure I did!"

"Bullshit!" Selena shouted. "I felt the magic weaving when you sold the pass. It was for ... this package!"

Anya stared, mouth agape. "But ... I was thinking about what to do, and I figured I'd do a standard pass, and then I gave him the pass."

"So why did I feel different magic?"

Anya scowled. "That's what I did. I sold a standard pass. I _know_ I did. The only thing odd was ... I got a little lightheaded," she saw Selena's scowl, "but that's because I've been very tired, and haven't slept well."

"Shit!" Selena realized that Tiffany was still in the locker room. "Why don't you go enjoy the park, Tiffany?" she urged. The girl shrugged, and then walked out of the locker room, already unconcerned about the discussion which had been far outside her area of interest, at least judging by the vacant look in her eyes.

Once Tiffany had gone, Selena turned to face Anya. "You can't deny what happened."

"I ... I don't understand," Anya protested weakly. "I _know_ I did a standard pass."

Selena saw the look on Anya's face, and decided not to press the point. Anya looked very tired, and thoroughly confused. There was more to this change than Anya herself seemed to be aware of, or was willing to admit.

**********

Grandmother awoke suddenly when she felt a hand clamp over her mouth. Instinctively, she tried to roll away from the hands, but more hands grasped her, pinning her hands and body under the blanket. Her eyes were wide open, and she fought the fear rising in her. It seemed too familiar to her, reminding her instantly of a time long ago, very near this place, when she'd been accosted by rough men's hands.

Quickly, professionally, they bound her hands with some type of tape, and then put a hood over her head, taking a moment to insert a gag. Grandmother fought back the rising panic in her voice. Had she accidentally given away something earlier in the evening, that had the native people nervous or frightened?

It felt like two large men were lifting her from the bed. She felt awkward, dressed only in her nightshirt, but the men handling her were not likely to pause so she could put on more proper attire. Besides, what is the dress code for a kidnapping, she thought. After testing her bonds once, she gave up. Without some magic, which she was loathe to use unless it was absolutely necessary, she wasn't going to get away.

She expected to be jolted and jarred as she was carried down the stairs, but it seemed more like she was floating, with only occasional touches and pushes from the kidnappers to guide her. Not being able to see, she listened carefully. The two men and one woman said nothing as they went about their task. Frustrated, Grandmother opened her magic senses – only to slam them shut again. The disorienting swirling and chaos was there again, just like earlier in the tavern. Someone, or something, was messing with her magic senses. That probably extended to any magic she might use to try to escape.

Grandmother was getting more concerned, and more nervous, as the two men shoved her into the back seat of a car. At least, she told herself, it wasn't the trunk. That was usually where gangsters and thugs put bodies, or those who were about to become mere bodies.

She felt the weight shift and heard the doors slam, knowing immediately that three people had gotten into the car with her, two of whom were much heavier than the third. Still unable to use her senses, Grandmother forced herself to take deep breaths and relax. There was nothing she could do at the moment, so it was important to get as accurate a picture of her situation as possible. Without her sight and magic sense, that was proving difficult. She had no sense of direction from all the twists and turns that had occurred getting her into the car, and the path wound through the streets in a seemingly-haphazard pattern, until finally, the car sped up and began to drive a relatively straight course. A highway? It seemed likely. That meant they were leaving town.

Grandmother dearly wished she had her magic sense. Though it had been more than a century, she was certain that she would know where she was being taken – if she wasn't blindfolded, confused, and deprived of her magic. Presently, the car slowed, and then turned – to her left, she was certain. Again, it sped up, but not so much. A side road? The path wound through what she guessed was the countryside, and then the car slowed once more before turning off the road. It halted, and one of the doors opened. One of the men got out, and after a few moments, the car moved forward again. It didn't stop, though, to let the man back in, but proceeded down a rough, winding path full of holes and ruts and bumps. A while later, the car stopped, and the driver shut off the engine. The doors opened, and then Grandmother was manhandled out of the car and slung over a man's shoulder. He grunted at the load; Grandmother reminded herself that, if she got out of this, she _had_ to lose some weight.

For nearly half an hour, the man carried Grandmother, while she heard his companion, smaller and probably a woman, based on the sounds of her walking, beside him. Neither said a word.

A dog's barking announced that the group was near some type of dwelling or farm. She heard several footsteps approaching, but no-one spoke. She heard the creak of a door, and the smell of hay and animals assaulted her nose. A barn? Probably. She couldn't see, but could sense a change as she was carried in; the inside seemed more damp, the air a little heavier with confined smells. The man carrying her halted, and she was set down on a stool or something, then the door creaked again and slammed as the party left her.

She couldn't tell if all of her abductors had left; they'd been eerily silent, and one might still be in the barn with her. Grandmother replayed what she thought the path had been over and over. Despite the gag and blindfold, she slowly relaxed; if she'd been ungagged, she might have even smiled. She was home.

**********

Grandmother had sat on the stool for nearly an hour before she heard the door open again. She could make out two sets of footsteps, one heavy, and the other light. A man and a woman? Perhaps. The lighter footsteps approached her, and hands moved her head about roughly. She felt the straps of the hood loosening, and then it was lifted from her head.

Grandmother blinked; she _was_ in a barn, and the interior was surprisingly well-lit by several kerosene lanterns. After spending over an hour and a half with a blindfold on, her eyes needed to adjust. As she blinked uncomfortably, a familiar face bent closer to her and removed the gag.

"You aren't scared," the barmaid from the tavern said to Grandmother, stating a fact, not asking a question.

"I've been in worse positions," Grandmother said stoically.

The barmaid started at her comment, but then a wry smile crept over her face. "Yes, indeed you have." She turned and grabbed another stool, then set it in front of Grandmother, taking a seat across from the older woman. "Why are you here? What are you looking for?"

"I was told to speak to someone named Crina," Grandmother said calmly, her demeanor belying her nervousness. She felt no trace of her magic sight or sense, and after having lived with it continuously all her life, the deprivation of those two senses was like suddenly being blind.

"Why have you come here?"

"I seek Crina," Grandmother repeated. "I was told by ... friends ... that she may be able to help me."

"And who are you to ask for help here?" the barmaid asked with a sneer.

"Who I am is unimportant," Grandmother said. "What I need is what matters."

As she spoke, more people were slowly drifting into the barn, standing behind the barmaid, facing grandmother. All told, there were probably about twenty people.

"I am Crina. And you expect us to provide some unspoken help to someone who is unknown to us?" the barmaid asked.

"Yes."

Crina stood and turned to the people behind her. "We have a strange in our midst," she said solemnly. "And yet, she is no stranger." There was a collective gasp from the group, but none louder than that from Grandmother.

"Isn't that right, daughter of Marusya?" Crina said, spinning and bending so she was inches from Grandmother's face. Her frown was unpleasant to look upon.

One of the older gentlemen in the back spoke to an inquisitive youth beside him. "Long ago, the daughter of Marusya touched the darkness. As is our law, she was ... killed." He turned Crina. "This cannot be, Nadezhda," he said firmly. "You yourself told us that she was destroyed." A number of older people added their murmurs of disapproval.

"Nadezhda?" Grandmother spoke softly, almost reverently. "It's not possible."

"It is possible, daughter of Marusya," the barmaid said with a leer. She waved her hands, and was transformed from the twenty-ish barmaid into a woman of about seventy. "I am Nadezhda, but I call myself Crina to hide who I truly am, and to fit in with those not of the clan. You should have known that. Your powers are strong enough. Or rather, you would have known, if your training had been more complete."

"She ... is a dark force among us," the man in back spat. "She has broken the law, and she has broken her banishment. She must pay, according to the law."

Grandmother gulped, and then nodded slowly. "It is true that I broke the law by touching the darkness," she admitted, her head held up high. "But I resisted, as I promised my mother I would. Several times more, I was tempted by the darkness, and always I refused to give in. Yes, I violate the customs and laws by coming here, but it is the only way I know to get assistance."

"What assistance would you request from us?" an older woman in back sneered.

Grandmother closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My granddaughter, Anya, who was here only a few days ago, is being tempted by the darkness. I don't know how to help her. I'm afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"That she'll fall to the darkness the same as her mother did, and that I'll have to destroy her to stop her, the same as I had to do with my own daughter," Grandmother answered tearfully, choking with emotion at the words.

"And what can we do? You live half a world away," Nadezhda countered.

"I ... I need to know how to keep her from touching and embracing the darkness," Grandmother sobbed. "I ... can't lose my granddaughter."

Nadezhda's eyes were watering. She hung her head, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "The same as I couldn't lose my granddaughter all those years ago."

"I know I'm breaking the law of banishment by returning," Grandmother said softly. "But before you destroy me, I ask that you please help me save my Anya from the darkness. Then I'll return and accept the consequences of my actions."

"Your mother would be proud of your courage, and of your love for your granddaughter," Nadezhda said. "Just as I am proud of the courage of my own granddaughter." She stooped and hugged Grandmother.

"Your ... granddaughter?" one of the women asked in astonishment. "That's not possible."

Nadezhda lowered her eyes. "It is a long, shameful story," she said softly. "I would rather not talk about what was. Only about what is, and what will be."

**********

Natty looked up from her books and sighed. The noise immediately caught Melinda's attention, since she was cooking dinner in the kitchen right next to the computer desk. "Problems?" Melinda asked pleasantly.

"I don't know."

"Let me guess. Jeff? Or an argument with Megan?"

Natty shook her head. "No."

"Okay, so ... the new classes confusing you?"

Natty slapped her pencil down on the open notebook and gave Melinda 'the look'. "The way you and Jenny ride me about studying? Get real!"

"Okay, so what's on your mind, then?"

Natty sighed again. "I don't know how to say it," she began hesitantly. "It's just that, well, something isn't right with Anya."

"Oh?" Melinda's eyebrows rose. She'd gotten more than an earful from Jenny about Anya's sudden change in attitude and behavior, but if it was now bad enough that Natty noticed it, then it was really bad. Natty trusted Anya; Anya had been one non-judgmental friend during the summer when she'd first come to live with Jenny. Anya was one person that always had time to talk to Natty about her problems.

"Yeah. She seems ... different."

Jenny had been reading a trade journal, which she put down, her interest piqued by Natty's comment. "What do you mean, different?"

"She's ... she's always with that other girl."

"Oksana?" Jenny prompted.

"Yeah. And Oksana is kind of, I don't know, wicked? Like she enjoys making trouble." She grinned at Jenny. "Kind of like I used to do, you know?"

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Melinda teased, trying a little humor to lighten the mood.

"I'm serious!" Natty protested. "You know how she always has a hug for me, no matter what else she's doing?"

"Yeah," Jenny said, afraid of where this was going.

"It's been more than three weeks since she had time to give me a hug, and the last time she did, it was like she didn't want to, but felt like she had to."

Jenny's frown deepened, as did Melinda's. That didn't sound like Anya at all.

"And Oksana was standing there joking, like I was stupid for wanting to give Anya a hug, and that she had better things to do." Natty's eyes were misting; Anya was a very good friend of hers, or at least, had been.

"I suppose you should talk to Grandmother – when she gets back."

"That's not the worst thing," Natty continued. She saw Jenny's startled expression. "Yesterday, I heard Anya telling a girl that if she was tired of her boyfriend, who she said was clingy and possessive, she could always bring him to the park, and she'd help the girl get rid of the pest. It sounded like she was talking about doing something permanent, too."

"Was Oksana anywhere around her?"

"Are you kidding? If I didn't know that Anya was dating Greg, I would have figured she and Oksana were an item. They're never apart."

"Did Oksana say or do anything?"

"Yeah. She was kind of urging Anya to help teach the guy a lesson. And the two of them were laughing about it like it was some kind of big joke." Natty shook her head. "I ... I don't want to be around Anya," she admitted softly. "She's getting kind of scary."

Jenny walked to Natty's side, bent over, and gave her a hug, kissing her forehead. "We're all worried about Anya," she confessed softly. "All of us."

**********

The bed was comfortable, and Grandmother couldn't help but wonder who had been displaced. As she started to settle under the warm quilt, the door to the room creaked open, allowing a sliver of light to slice through the darkness. An older woman came in, pulled a chair from across the room, and sat beside the bed. "I'm afraid it's not as comfortable as the hotel," Nadezhda said apologetically. "We don’t have many visitors, and we lead a rather simple life."

"Its just fine," Grandmother said. "Why the deception? Why didn't you tell Anya and Jozef your real name?"

Nadezhda sighed. "You would have recognized my name, and you wouldn't have come."

"You ... knew that I'd come?" Grandmother was amazed.

"If your sight had been trained properly, you'd understand."

"So you knew about the trouble with Anya?"

Nadezhda nodded, a sad smile on her face. "I could sense her difficulty. I knew that she was being tested. I also could see that you didn't know how to deal with her."

"I suppose you know all about Chessa, then, too?"

Nadezhda shook her head. "No. Though I could feel your life force, because I knew what to look for, I didn't know that you had a daughter. I only knew to look for Anya's because she came here, and I could read her aura to know that she was related to you."

"And to you."

Nadezhda nodded. "It's nice to have a great, great granddaughter. Especially after I lost so much family during the purges."

"What will happen now?"

"The elders are meeting tonight. We will decide then."

"I'm ready to accept any punishment you deem necessary," Grandmother restated, "but I ask that you allow me to save Anya first. Then I'll return to pay for my transgressions."

"You love her, don't you?"

"Yes. More than life itself. She's all I have left." Tears misted Grandmother's eyes. "I can't go through losing her like I lost Chessa."

"Tell me about your daughter," Nadezhda encouraged her softly.

Slowly, Grandmother related the story of Chessa, from being a very bright, inquisitive girl who displayed, at an early age, a remarkable talent for magic. She'd grown, but began to treat mortals as playthings for her amusement, casting aside any pretense of moral values in search of hedonistic amusement. Nothing Grandmother had said or done seemed to dissuade Chessa from her wicked ways. Chessa had planned to turn Anya, too, using her boyfriend at the time, Greg, to cause her a massive betrayal, thus causing Anya to lash out with her magic in anger. And then, to cap it off, Chessa had set up an encounter with her own mother, again framing things to make Grandmother look like the aggressor, thus cementing Anya's fall to the darkness.

The battle, as Grandmother described it, had almost been a disaster for her, and if it hadn't been for her friend, she would have been defeated. Grandmother used the song taught by her mother, Marusya, to shield herself from the raw power and fury of Chessa's attacks. In the end, the shield song held, reflecting Chessa's furious attack directly to Chessa, and burning her where she stood.

"I ... I lost everything," Grandmother sobbed into her hands. "I lost my magic. Mostly, I lost my daughter to the darkness, and then I had to kill her."

Nadezhda's face was lined with hard experience, her eyes full of sympathy for Grandmother. "Now you know why I couldn't destroy you in Southampton," she said. "I lost too much, also. And I, too, have had to ... destroy ... friends and family who became a threat by not only touching the darkness, but embracing it fully."

"I need your help. I need to know how to save Anya. I ... I don't have my magic anymore, and Anya is far more powerful than I ever was."

"Don't be so sure of that. You, too, were looked upon by the elders as a very powerful, and very dangerous child, with abilities that would grow to dwarf the best of us in the clan. They feared you. That's why they wanted you destroyed when you touched the darkness."

"You lied to them to spare me. Because I'm your granddaughter?"

Nadezhda smiled sadly. "Partly. But mostly because, in all the times I tested you on your journey, you fought the darkness and refused to allow it to master you."

"How can I defeat her, though? The wizard's council ..."

"Bah! Bunch of self-righteous, arrogant snobs! They're the reason we don't travel to the otherworld until our twenty-third year!"

"They wanted to destroy me because twice, my shield reflected attacks and destroyed my attacker, but they couldn't understand or reproduce the magic."

Nadezhda permitted herself a grin. "Those pompous asses don't understand because they divorced themselves from the raw magic that lies in our world. Of course they couldn't recreate it; they have no idea that the power for that, and other spells, is given to us by the world in which we live."

"They said that when I fought Chessa, the mental trauma blocked my recollection of most of my magic. I can only do a few spells now."

"To save Anya, you don’t need any spells," Nadezhda said firmly.

"Then ... how?"

"The one thing that defeats anger is love. You love her. You must never let her forget that. No matter what she does, you must remind her that you love her. And ... I gathered from meeting her that she has a young man interested in her?"

"Greg Lawson. Very nice boy."

"His love, too, is a key to help protect her from the darkness. Darkness cannot stand even a flickering candle of love."

"There's something more, though," Grandmother said. "She recently met a young lady who claimed to be from ... around here. It was about the time that Anya met Oksana that Anya began to act confused and capricious, even malicious, in her magic."

Nadezhda frowned again. "Did this Oksana give Anya any gifts, or cast a spell on her? When she was here, I detected quite a bit of confusion, that seemed to be magically sourced."

Grandmother shook her head. "We – Jozef, my friend, and I – checked her, to see if Anya was under a spell. Oksana did give Anya a pendant, which she said was a gift from the old country. We checked it, too, but could detect no magic that might be corrupting Anya."

"You must get that pendant from her. When Anya was here, I detected something, but I couldn't tell what. I dismissed it as a shield spell or something that Anya kept to protect herself." She shook her head. "It may be a focus instead."

"A focus?"

"An artifact or enchanted item which by itself can do nothing, but is a magnet and magnifier, if you will, which allows another's spells, even from a considerable distance, to be focused on the wearer, and amplified to increase the spell's effect." Nadezhda grimaced. "It is hard to detect a focus by itself. I will teach you the spell."

"But ... you said I would need no magic!"

Nadezhda sighed. "If it were only that simple. Without Oksana, all you need is to counter anything dark with love. But with her present ...?" She shook her head. "You told me that Chessa was going to use Anya's boyfriend to incite jealousy and anger, yes?"

"Yes."

"And in acting out of anger, Anya would touch the darkness, true?"

"Yes. But I don't see ...."

"We must train you, and with haste. Oksana will do the same as Chessa would. She will attack you, or Greg, or others beloved by Anya, to get her to retaliate in anger. Anya will touch the darkness when she angrily attempts to defend those around her. It is a subtle plan, but all too often, it works. You must be prepared to defend those around you and Anya from attack, if indeed Oksana is the culprit."

**********

"You _have_ to get that skirt! It's soooo cute!" Janet squealed with delight as Shelly turned, modeling the clothing she was trying on.

Shelly grinned, striking a pose for Janet as her cheeks flushed a little, before a shiver ran down her spine. She visibly stiffened. "But ... this isn’t real!" she protested to Janet. Suddenly, tears appeared in her eyes, and she bolted into the changing room, where she collapsed onto the small bench, her cheeks wet. She felt quite overwhelmed.

A knock sounded on the door. "Shelly?" Janet asked softly, concern in her voice. "Are you okay?" Shelly didn’t look up, nor answer; she just sat on the bench, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms crossed atop her knees, and bawling.

Another knock, and once more, Janet called, "Shelly?" A moment later, the door opened gingerly, and Janet peeked inside. As soon as she saw Shelly crying, she rushed to sit beside Shelly, placing one arm around her shoulder comfortingly. "Are you okay?" Janet asked softly.

"No," Shelly sobbed. "This ... none of this is real!" she cried. "All of this – me being a girl, you being a girl, our attraction – it's all fake! It's not real! I'm not really a cute girl. I'm just a plain, average college student, like you. We're not in love, not really. It's all because of the magic, and it's a big-assed illusion."

"It's real for now," Janet tried to give Shelly something hopeful.

Shelly looked up at Janet, distraught. "That's just it. For now. In a few days, it'll be all over. Then what?"

Janet guided Shelly's head down onto her shoulder. "I know. I try not to think about that." As she held Shelly, gently stroking her hair and letting her cry, Janet softly asked, "Do you want it to be over?"

**********

The lone figure sitting at a table in the Coconut Club was out of place; around him, groups clustered at tables or booths. He looked forlorn being alone, and the look in his eyes every time he lifted his beer glass to sip radiated sadness. Vicky sat with her friends, watching him, and finally, curiosity got the better of her. She walked to the table and without asking, pulled out a chair and sat down.

"What's up, Greg?" she asked, trying to sound cheerful. "Why don't you join us?"

"Not much, and no thanks," Greg answered sternly. There certainly was nothing positive or uplifting in his tone of voice.

"Where's Anya?"

Greg just shook his head and took a big gulp of beer. "Dunno. Probably out with _her_ again."

"Oh."

"Fifth time this week. I haven't spent much time with her for almost two weeks."

Vicky flinched; Greg and Anya had a much longer relationship than Vicky and her fiancé Rob had, and she'd never seen either of the pair unhappy or morose about that relationship. "Ouch!" She tried to put a positive spin on it. "Well, Oksana is from the old country, and Anya is curious about her heritage. It's probably just a passing phase."

Greg looked at Vicky, and she recoiled from the utter defeat which radiated from his eyes. "No. She's changed."

Vicky frowned. She and her friends had noticed that Anya's behavior had become less warm and friendly, and a little more arrogant, as if she was above all of them. "Well ...," Vicky started

"You guys noticed it, too, didn't you?" Greg said with certainty. "I've heard what she's been doing at work. I've heard about some of the things she's doing with Oksana when she's not at work." He shook his head, letting his gaze drop to his beer glass. "She never ...."

Vicky frowned. "Did she do something to you?"

Greg looked at her, and then let his gaze drop again, shaking his head in defiance of is posture and mood. "Nope."

Vicky recognized immediately that Greg was covering up something. "Yes, she did. I can tell."

"No big deal, Greg answered firmly. "Just let it go."

"What?"

Greg shook his head. "I'd rather not say. It's ...."

"Embarrassing?"

Greg just nodded without answering.

Vicky put her hand on Greg's. "Greg," she began, her voice supportive and comforting, "we're friends. I won't tell anyone." She forced a smile. "And you know I'll just keep pumping beer in you until you talk, so you might as well save yourself a hangover."

Greg stared into her eyes for few long seconds, debating internally whether he should tell her. He saw, as was normal for Vicky, only sympathy and understanding and concern. "We had a quiet evening last night," he said angrily.

"That ... could be romantic. I take it that it started out that way?"

Greg snorted derisively. "It was, until ...."

"Until what?"

"She had an intimate evening. I didn't." He saw Vicky frown, not understanding. "She ... used some kind of spell to ... enhance things. She made it so ... I couldn't do anything until she wanted me to, just to make sure _she_ got all the satisfaction she wanted." Vicky's eyes widened in horror at what Greg was trying to say without totally humiliating himself. He took a big gulp from his glass. "She used me like a sex toy," he said bitterly, "and then fell asleep, leaving me ...."

"Frustrated?"

Greg snorted. "That's one way to describe it. I couldn't do anything about it, either."

"Damn!"

"And when we talked about it this morning, she just laughed it off and told me that guys do that to girls often, so it must not be a big deal. Before we could talk more, she popped off someplace with Oksana."

"Did she just ... leave the spell on you?"

Greg shook his head. "I had to talk to Selena this morning to have her take the spell off." He looked away from Vicky, embarrassed and gritting his teeth from the rage he felt within him. "That was humiliating."

"Wow, Greg!" Vicky exclaimed softly. "I ... I don't know what to say."

"That's not the worst of it."

"Oh?"

Greg fumbled in his pocket, and pulled out a small, velvet-covered box. "A few weeks ago, I got this for her," he said, opening the box, displaying an elegant ring with a large, nearly flawless diamond. From the size of the diamond, Greg had been saving for the ring for quite a while. "I was waiting for the right time."

"Oh, wow!" Vicky mouthed softly. "That's ...."

Greg closed the box, its snap sounding with a harsh and unexpected finality. "Now ... I don't think ... that I want to give this to her." His expression was determined a grim, but Vicky could see the hurt within him through his eyes. She knew that he should cry to get his emotions out, but since he was a guy, he wasn't going to look weak ... to anyone.

"Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry," Vicky said sympathetically. She changed which hand was holding Greg's hand, because her left hand displayed her own engagement ring, which Greg might take as a bitter reminder.

"She's changed," Greg complained in stern tones, "so I guess we're through."

"We're all afraid she's changed," Vicky tried to comfort Greg. "Hopefully, it's just something until Oksana leaves."

"How could she do that to me?" Greg snapped. "It's like I wasn't even a person to her! It was like all that we had doesn't matter to her anymore."

"Greg, why don't you let me take you back to your frat house," Vicky offered. "You've probably had a few too many to drive."

"Big fucking deal!" Greg snarled. "I don't have anything anymore."

"Greg, that's not true!" Vicky tried to counter.

"I lost my parents," Greg reminded her. "Nothing really matters if I've lost Anya, too! It'll mean that I don’t have anything. Nothing fucking matters, anymore!"

Vicky flinched at his words, which indicated that he was in far worse shape, emotionally, than she'd thought. And for him to be drunk, especially after the accident which had killed his parents, really showed the depth of his funk. She patted Greg's hand, while glancing over at the table of her friends and co-workers from Bikini Beach. She frantically waved to Liz, trying to get her attention. Maybe Liz would know how to deal with Greg's depressed state. Even that, though, was a dicey gamble. Everyone else at her table was dating or engaged. Melinda had Jenny. Liz was getting serious about Kyle. She was engaged to Rob. Holly was seeing Chuck, another of Greg's fraternity brothers. Only Trish, one of the new girls at the park, was unattached. She'd expressed interest in Greg once already. Given Anya's powers, jealousy, and callous attitude toward people lately, it was probably a bad idea for Greg to be anywhere near Trish in his current state.

**********

The old woman sat in a rough wooden chair, her elbows resting on the small table before her, her eyes fixed firmly on the candle in the center of the table. Her fingers traced an intricate motion, and she uttered some strange-sounding words through a nearly-clenched jaw. Beads of sweat rolled off her forehead and down onto the knotted muscles of her arms, but she was oblivious to that.

When nothing happened, she forced herself to take a deep breath and relax, and then she started again, always focused so tightly on the candle that she was barely aware of the other woman seated across from her. After two more tries, the woman let her arms flop wearily on the table, fatigued as much as if she'd been moving bales of hay.

"No, no," Nadezhda said, trying to sound encouraging in her corrections. "You're trying too hard. Watch." She said an incantation as her fingers traced a few paths through the air, and the candle's wick burst into a dancing mote of fire. After a moment, she extinguished the candle. "Now, try again."

"I ... I can't!" Grandmother said, looking down and shaking her head wearily. "I ... I've forgotten _everything_."

"You _can_!" Nadezhda encouraged her. "You have a very powerful aura. Tap into it. Feel it's power. Use the incantation and gestures to focus it on the task."

Grandmother was near tears. "I _can't_!" she cried. "I forgot how!"

Nadezhda put her hands on Grandmother's. "The magic is in you. You need to remember how to use it."

"It's gone, I tell you!" Grandmother said. "I knew this was a fool's errand." She started to weep, knowing that she'd be unable to save Anya because she was too weak.

Nadezhda sighed, and then began another incantation, this time focused on Grandmother. Grandmother's eyes became glassy, and Nadezhda focused on them, peering into the window of Grandmother's soul that she'd magically opened. She could see Grandmother squirming in discomfort at the memories Nadezhda had stirred, but she had to see, she had to know what demons haunted Grandmother so.

**********

"How do you think Anya is going to react when her _favorite_ grandmother spurns her and turns out to be petty and nasty? Or when her friend Greg, who she's slowly falling helplessly in love with, is caught having sex with three other girls, all of whom are Anya's rivals? Or when she's rejected by her friends at school?" She sneered. "How do you think _that_ will sit, especially after Anya has discovered that she has powers that none of her so-called friends have?" She shook her head, the evil grin broadening. "It'll take almost nothing to turn her."

The old woman raised her hands, making the old gestures to guard herself against magic. "It's time you were stopped," she whispered. "I should have done it years ago, but my love for you blinded me to just _how_ evil you were."

Chessa laughed. "Your powers are weak, old woman!" she sneered. With a magic blast, she knocked the old woman down easily. "You want me to quote Anya's favorite movies while I destroy you?" She laughed again. "It would be ironic, wouldn't it. 'When we last met, I was but the learner. Now I am the master.'"

The old woman rose to her feet. The blast had shaken her, but her guards had protected her - some. "Fitting," she observed as she loosed a blast of her own, one that Chessa easily deflected. "Only a master of evil."

Chessa laughed as she loosed another blast. This one caught the old woman squarely and knocked her through the picture window to the lawn outside. Chessa glided through the air after her, lighting on the dark lawn. "Don't give me that feeble, 'You can't win,' line, _mother_!" she said acidly. "There's no way you can become more powerful! And with Anya at my side, I'll have all the power I need to take over the Council!"

The old woman struggled to her feet. Chessa was _too_ powerful, she realized. She couldn't win. But she had to try.

A pop sounded beside the door, startling Chessa and the old woman. It was _him_.

"Watch out!" the old woman called quickly. Her warning was too late. Even before the old wizard could react, Chessa loosed a blast which knocked him through the door.

It was an opening the old woman needed. Chessa had been distracted. Incanting some of the old magic, she loosed a lightning bolt at her daughter. It caught her squarely, and for a moment, the old woman thought she might have gotten in the edge.

Only for a moment. Chessa seemed to glow as she absorbed the energy that _should_ have flattened her, charring her to ashes. Instead, she snarled like a wounded cat. "Is that the best you can do, _mother_?" She loosed a bolt of her own which staggered the old woman. "Anya is going to _love_ this!" she sneered. "It's so Star Wars! And _you_ started it! I couldn't have planned it better myself!" As the energy flowed from Chessa, the old woman staggered, slumping to the lawn. Chessa paused, glaring down at the weakened lady.

"You fool," she sneered, "you could have had this power! You could have been a great wizard! But you turned your back on it all. And for what? For a pathetic existence on a planet of-"

The blast from the house surprised Chessa. It was a powerful burst of energy, and it knocked her down. She snarled, and turning, she loosed a blast at the old man.

The old man deflected the energy - mostly. "If you're going to kill your mother," he said through his grimace, "you'll have to kill us both!"

Chessa grinned. "I always intended to. You both stood in my way." She tapped into some unknown reserve of energy and blasted at the old man again. It knocked him down, and she felt his aura fading.

Grinning triumphantly, she turned back to her wounded mother. "Now, it's time to finish this!"

The old woman gazed at her daughter through a mask of pain. She saw the evil, the pure black of her aura. She struggled to get to her knees, and she let loose a burst of energy, which Chessa easily deflected.

Chessa cackled evilly as she loosed a long bolt at her mother. "Now, _mother_, you will die."

Pain was quickly pushing conscious thought from the old woman. She fought valiantly to hang on, to retain any bit of consciousness she could, for she knew that if she let go, she was done. With the bolt of energy dancing about her, clouding her vision, its tendrils searing her every nerve, the old woman felt herself fading. 'So this is how it ends,' she thought. 'My own daughter. Is this what my mother feared so long ago? That I'd be like this?' She thought of that image, her own mother cradling her, comforting her, through all the turmoil and challenges of her childhood. And there was always the song. As her consciousness lapsed, the old woman began to chant the old, soothing lullaby.

The old man crawled through the shattered door. His left arm hung limp, and every motion was an adventure in agony. He saw the old woman lying on the lawn, her energy spent, her defenses down. Chessa stood in triumph, her black energy seemingly unstoppable, as she directed blast after blast into the old woman.

As the old woman lay, dying, her lips started to move, and a smile formed on her mouth. A last pleasant memory? One last thought as she died?

The ball that formed around the old woman seemed as bright as the sun, an incandescent orb with the old woman at its core. And suddenly, the energy that Chessa was directing at her mother stopped short, absorbed into the glowing ball. Chessa frowned, then she snarled like a frustrated animal. She visibly redoubled her efforts, focusing on penetrating the shield and killing her mother.

As Chessa's attack waned, her arm drooping in frustration and anger at the impenetrability of the shield, a bright spot formed on the ball, brighter than the rest. Chessa's features showed her confusion, then her shock and fright as the spot shot a tendril of intense energy back toward her. It caught the young woman, twisting and bending her as it wracked her body.

The old man pulled himself painfully to his feet. Chessa lay in a heap on the lawn, her clothes scorched and smoldering. Slowly, he staggered to the old woman, still encased in the glowing ball. He could barely make out her features, and he grew concerned for her life. Hesitantly, he reached toward the shield, expecting it to throw him violently back or to discharge its energy into him. But his hand passed easily through it.

He knelt beside the old woman. Her eyelids were closed, and her breathing was ragged and shallow. He sighed with relief that she was still alive - barely. And he felt something else - another presence. As if part of someone else's life force was there. He paused, and let his mind open, and with startling clarity, he understood. The shield - it _was_ the old woman's life force. Hers, and - impossibly - her mother's. The lullaby was an ancient spell of pure good, a relic of eons gone by when darkness was such a threat to the forces of good. That was why the council didn't recognize it. It wasn't the song - it was the way the song focused the old woman's energy, rearranging it into a shield. And the woman's mother had infused her with part of her own life force - as a parting gift and a way to defend herself, knowing that it could never be used for dark purposes.

Then he sensed it. Impossibly, Chessa was struggling to her feet. Her skin was blackened in spots, her hair disheveled and her eyes wild and aflame with anger. Tiny whiffs of smoke emanated from her singed clothing. "You'll never stop me," she hissed.

The old man tensed his jaw. "It's over," he said evenly. He knelt beside the older woman and cradled her head tenderly. His eyes cleared, then he focused on his old friend. "Sing," he said softly. "Sing." He felt energy flowing from himself into the weakened, injured friend.

Chessa sneered. "You pathetic fool!" She raised her hands, and with all of her dark power, she loosed a monstrously powerful energy blast at the two.

The man knew that, if he hadn't given energy to the woman's shield, Chessa's blast would have overcome it, given how weak the woman was. But the glowing aura held, absorbing the energy. Then, in one cataclysmic burst, it shot out a bolt which completely engulfed Chessa. Her body was tossed, wracked, tortured, as her own energy devoured her.

The old wizard watched the young woman, saw her aura flicker and fade and finally go out. He felt the weight of a thousand planets fall onto his shoulders, and he staggered. Slowly, he returned to the old woman. She was unconscious, and the glowing shield was fading. He sank to the ground beside her and gently lifted her head, cradling it in her lap. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" he asked over and over as he tenderly stroked the old woman's forehead. "Why didn't you tell me?" Tears rolled down his cheeks.

**********

Tears streamed down Grandmother's cheeks, and surpringly, also Nadezhda's. The matron moved beside Grandmother and embraced her, pulling Grandmother's head onto her shoulder and comforting her like she was a distraught child. "I understand," Nadezhda said soothingly. "I understand."

Grandmother shook her head feebly. "You can't know what it's like to have to kill your own daughter," she sobbed.

Nadezhda was quiet for a moment. "Yes, I can. I've had to destroy many in the clan who touched the darkness, including your mother's sister."

Grandmother looked up at the matron, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Words weren't necessary; the look between the two said more than they could have spoken in an hour. "How ...," Grandmother finally began, "how do you deal with it?"

"You want some secret that takes away the painful memories and guilt?" Nadezhda asked. She shook her head sadly. "There isn't any secret. Like me, you'll probably never get over the pain, at least if you have any humanity in you."

"Oh," Grandmother said softly.

"Your hurt is so deep that you're afraid of your magic," Nadezhda pronounced. "You must get past your fear."

"How ... how am I supposed to do that?"

Nadezhda sat down opposite Grandmother again and took her hands. "Look into my eyes. Nothing else matters. Just my eyes. Look deeply."

Grandmother followed the hypnotic voice, looking deeply into the matron's eyes. Slowly, everything around them faded in her sight, until there were only the two brown eyes peering intently at hers.

Unseen to Grandmother because of her focus, Nadezhda's hands began to move in an intricate pattern, and soft words were spoken.

Grandmother flinched when she found herself in a kitchen, seated at a table. She glanced around; the table seemed familiar, as did the room. A door creaked, and Grandmother spun toward the noise. She nearly fainted when she saw the figure entering.

"Well, my daughter," the woman who entered said with a pleasant smile. "How did you do at the market today?"

Grandmother frowned. This was impossible. Something, though, made her reach into her pocket, where her coin purse was stashed. It was heavy; she tossed it on the table and heard the clinking of many coins inside the leather sack. "I think it was a good day," she muttered, still in a state of disbelief.

Her mother, Marusya, hefted the coin purse, and then grinned. "I think it was better than a good day." She gave Grandmother a big hug. "Now sit. It's time for your lessons."

"But ... I'm not sure ...."

"Hush! You must continue your lessons. Now, be seated."

Grandmother's shock prevented her from questioning the order; she sat, and as she did so, she noted the full red dress around her ankles. Her wrists were adorned with bangles, and her fingers with rings. She glanced down, and saw necklaces draping toward the neckline of her peasant blouse. More impossible, though, were her hands; they looked fine and young, untouched by the ravages of time.

Marusya set an unlit candle on the table. "I know this is old, but it's good to warm up with spells and magic that's familiar. Now light the candle."

Grandmother remembered the many lessons that had transpired at this table. Was this another of Nadezhda's tricks? Another repressed memory come to the surface? But it didn't feel like a memory.

Something else stirred in Grandmother's memory, a prank she'd pulled several times during the lessons. She waved her fingers and incanted, and the candle rose, turning on its side, and held its position an inch above the candle-holder. Without dropping her concentration on levitating the candle, she made more motions, chanting softly again. Fire erupted on both ends of the horizontal candle.

Marusya waved her fingers, and the flame on the butt end vanished, while the candle returned to an upright position in the holder. "You show off too much, child," she chided Grandmother. She directed Grandmother through several more exercises, including levitating several objects, including herself, before she was satisfied with the warm-ups.

"Good. Now, for tonight's lesson, we're going to work on conjurings." Marusya proceeded to explain the magic to her pupil, then to demonstrate it, and then to guide Grandmother through a conjuring, even if the pot so conjured was relatively simple and inanimate.

For a couple of hours, Marusya continued to explain, demonstrate, and guide Grandmother through more and more complex conjurings, ending with animating the conjuring, a combination of an earlier lesson with the night's conjuring lesson. Grandmother, after some initial trepidation, caught on quickly, easily mastering the spells being taught to her.

"Enough for the night. Go wash up, and then we'll have our supper. The stew should be ready now." Throughout the lesson, the aroma of stew simmering on the stove had tried mightily to distract a hungry girl from her magic. Eagerly, Grandmother hastened from the table to a washbasin. She stared in amazement, once more, at her young hands, and the jewelry adorning them. She washed off her face and hands, and then stood to dry off, grabbing a towel from a nearby hook. As she did so, she caught sight of herself in a small, faded mirror, and she gasped.

Staring back from the mirror was a fifteen-year-old girl of considerable beauty, with raven hair spilling down both sides of her face and spilling behind her shoulders. Her brown eyes sparkled with energy, and her ruby lips looked incredibly inviting and kissable.

As she stared, the image slowly changed, until she was once again looking at an elderly, grandmotherly-looking woman, with white hair done in a tight bun, crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, and worry lines etched into her features. Her lips seemed so plain in comparison to the teenage version she'd seen only moments before. She looked old. Slowly, she turned from the mirror, and gasped again when she saw Nadezhda sitting at the table in the small room in which they'd been working. More stunning was the candle, levitated horizontally and burning at both ends, and a conjured skillet dancing merrily about the table.

Nadezhda smiled knowingly. "I thought you said you didn't have any power."

"This ... it was all an illusion?"

"Only on the surface. I wanted to show you that you had the power in you if you weren't afraid to use it."

Grandmother sank into the chair, stunned beyond words. She'd known that she had forgotten her magic, that she had no power. And yet ...

She grasped the candle, blew out the exposed wicks on the ends, and jabbed the candle into its holder. As Nadezhda watched, surprised, Grandmother focused on the candle, and then began to incant and move her fingers. Haltingly at first, the candle lurched upward, jerking a couple of times before it came free of the candlestick. Then, slowly, it began to rotate, until it was horizontal, It kept rotating, though, before Grandmother caught it and reversed the direction of the rotation, stopping it entirely when the candle was horizontal once more. Her brow furrowed in concentration, she kept one hand steady, while the other traced a few complex motions to accompany her second incantation. Without warning, intense fires burned at both ends of the candle, quickly incinerating all the wax until the flames joined in the middle and vanished when the fuel had been all consumed. Grandmother relaxed and let the charred remnants of the wick fall to the table. She turned to Nadezhda with an embarrassed smile. "Oops," she said sheepishly.

Nadezhda grinned broadly. "I told you that you have the power. Now that we know how to get past those ... bad memories, we can quickly help you access all of your memory of magic, and learn some things that you'd never learned."

**********

"Greg!" called a very feminine voice behind him. Greg, walking from the mall entrance toward his car, turned at the sound of his name. He saw Anya walking quickly toward him.

"Hi," he said cautiously as she neared. His voice was carefully neutral, and with his sunglasses on, he knew that she wouldn't be able to see the pained look in his eyes.

Anya grasped his arm, pulled herself up a couple of inches, and kissed him on the cheek. Her smile vanished instantly, replaced by a frown. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Greg asked. He hoped that the medallion Grandmother had given him would help shield his thoughts.

"You've been avoiding me for the past week," Anya said firmly. "And you usually want more of a kiss than a peck on the cheek."

"Sorry," Greg said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "I'm pretty distracted with my classes and the expansion."

Anya pulled herself beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I was thinking that maybe we could get a movie and have a quiet night."

"Does that include Oksana?" Greg asked, unable to keep all his internal bitterness about Oksana from leaking into his words.

"You're jealous of her!" Anya said, her voice rising a bit in volume and pitch.

"Hell yes," Greg admitted, a little more bitterness in his voice. "You haven't done much with me for the past several weeks. Instead, you're doing everything with her. If I didn't know better, I'd think that maybe you changed sides and found a new lover."

Anya halted abruptly, her expression angry. "That's not funny, even as a joke. And I _do_ spend time with you – when you haven't buried yourself in your school work and the expansion project!"

"Did you think that maybe the reason I'm willing to work on schoolwork and the expansion is that you're not a lot of fun to be with lately?"

"Hah! That's absurd. What's really going on? Did you decide that the new little slut, Trish or something, is who you'd rather spend time with?"

"What?"

"Oh, don't act innocent. Oksana saw you talking and dancing with her at the club the other night."

Greg scowled. "I was only talking with her because she was with Jenny, Melinda, Holly, Vicky, and Liz, and I was being polite! And I danced with her once, just like I danced with Holly and Vicky and Liz – it was out of courtesy, nothing more. Or didn't she tell you that part? Why don't you ask them?" His voice had a menacing tone, and his words were very precisely enunciated. "I wasn't cheating on you. You're just no fun to be around lately, since Oksana came."

"That's bullshit! If you want to stop going out, at least have the balls to tell me to my face, instead of sneaking around behind my back!" She turned and stomped away angrily, leaving a frowning Greg behind. Slowly, though, as his frown faded, his head dropped slowly, the fire in his eyes replaced with overwhelming sorrow.

**********

"I'm ... this is awkward," Shelly said softly, looking down at her uneaten toast. "What happens ...?"

Shelly shook her head a tiny amount. "No," she whispered. "I don't. It feels ... right."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." They sat in the changing room for a while, Shelly's head on Janet's shoulder. "What if we both stay like we are now?"

Shelly looked up, surprised at Janet's question. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, if it seems right to both of us ...."

"But ... I don't know. I ...." She looked at her lap as her cheeks flushed. "I ... I think I want ... us to have ... children," she said very softly. "If we stay together."

"Whoa!" Janet exclaimed softly. "That's a big step!"

"I'm sorry," Shelly quickly apologized, afraid that she'd frightened Janet into thinking that they should have a more serious commitment. "I ... I guess this change is messing with my head."

Janet held Shelly tighter. "I didn't mean that," she said. "It's just ... I was thinking of our options."

"Oh?" Shelly looked up at Janet, surprised.

"Yeah. The way I figure it, we have ... had ... five options. We could go back to what we were before."

"But that was tearing you up inside, wasn't it," Shelly interjected.

Janet nodded glumly. "Yeah, but it was better than nothing. Second, we could change back, but have the girl do her thing so we're both gay."

"That doesn't work if we wanted to have children."

Janet nodded. "We could adopt, but ...." She didn't need to finish; she suspected, strongly, that Shelly was thinking of staying a woman and bearing children herself. "Third, if you changed back, I could stay like I am, and have magic make me hetero. Fourth, I could change back, and you say, and have the magic make me hetero. Or fifth ...."

"We could both stay like we are now. I guess if we wanted to have a family, we could get a donor."

"I don't know what I want," Janet said after a long pause, "except that I want you in my life."

"Maybe," Shelly said hesitantly, looking down again, "we should wait a bit before we make any hasty decisions. I mean, we're both students, and the lifetime passes are pretty expensive, and it's a one-way ticket."

"But this is very nice," Janet offered.

Shelly looked up, startled, and then smiled. "Yes, it is."

Janet's eyes misted. "Do you think that we could be just roommates again if we change back, knowing what we have, knowing that you'll be straight, and I'll be gay and in love with you?"

Shelly shook her head. "I ...." She sighed. "Probably not. What do you want?"

"I ... I want you in my life," Janet confessed, unable to look Shelly in the eye. "I don't care how. I want you as part of my life."

"Is that Janet speaking," Shelly asked, "or Mack?"

"Both."

"Oh." Shelly sipped her coffee, another uneasy silence descending over the table.

"Could you ...?"

Shelly shook her head. "Not unless that girl does some more magic stuff. You?"

"Maybe." Janet stared at her toast. "If ... she changed you back, and I stayed as a woman, and she made me straight, could you stay with me?" she asked in a frightened, timid voice.

Shelly's mouth hung open in shock. "I don't know," she admitted after a pause. "I ... I can't think of being hetero right now, because of the magic. But ... I know you've been my best friend for so long that, if I was a hetero guy, I think I'd want to continue that friendship."

"I think we need to finish breakfast and then go find Selena at the park."

Twenty minutes later, the two girls were in Shelly's car driving toward the park, having eaten, cleaned up the dishes, and straightened their hair and makeup.

"Nervous?" Janet asked softly, her voice quavering with her own unease.

Shelly nodded. "Yeah. I take it you are, too?"

"Yeah." The two were so nervous that they barely spoke for the rest of the trip. Only when they'd swiped their passes and entered the park did Janet halt. "I think we goofed," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Neither of us brought any swimwear. And shouldn't we have talked to the girl in the booth, instead of going into the park?"

"Damn," Shelly sighed. "I guess we _are_ pretty distracted."

Janet sighed. "So what should we do? Go back out to the ticket office? Knock on the door of the main office building?"

"Or you could wait, knowing that one of us would sense you and come to talk to you," Anya said, a slightly condescending tone matching the condescending look on her face.

Janet's features clouded. "Where's Selena?" she asked. "She said we should talk to her."

Anya frowned deeply. "I'm in charge of the park while my grandmother is away. Selena works for us. I can help you."

"No thank you," Shelly said politely but firmly. "Selena told us we should talk to her, and after your last meddling, I'm not sure I really trust you."

"Well, then," Anya huffed, "I'll go get Selena for you." She turned, storming angrily into the park, leaving Janet and Shelly standing amidst the girls and women coming out of the showers and walking into the park.

"I think she's pissed," Janet observed softly.

"No shit? I would have never guessed."

"I don't think we want to have someone with that kind of magic pissed at us," Janet cautioned. "You never know what she might do."

"Yeah, she already showed us she'll do whatever the hell she wants."

Janet wrapped an arm around Shelly's waist and pulled her close. "Some of it isn't bad, though."

Shelly felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I guess not," she agreed softly. She turned to Janet, sliding her arms up around Janet's neck as her lips sought those of her partner. They parted after a long, heartfelt and passionate kiss, and glanced around, noting that several people were gawking at them, and one person was standing watching them with an amused smile. Shelly blushed again.

"Hi, girls," Selena said pleasantly. "What can I do for you today?"

Janet and Shelly exchanged worried glances, which spoke volumes to Selena. She didn't wait for them to speak. "You're probably quite confused about what happens when the pass wears off, and you're not sure what you _should_ do, right?"

Both girls nodded. "That's about it," Shelly added vocally.

"Can we go somewhere ... a little less obvious?"

Selena nodded. "Let's go in the office."

"I'd rather not. I saw Anya go in there, and she's pretty pissed at us," Janet said warily.

Selena sighed. "Okay, I understand. Let's go over in the corner of the plaza. It's pretty quiet, and with a quick spell, it'll be free from prying ears." She led the two girls to a small table away from the main traffic flow, a place where patrons could sit to enjoy a meal, or to rest while friends were shopping in the gift shop. As they sat, Selena said a little incantation. "There. If anyone does listen in, they'll hear us talking about the wonders of the park. Now what's on your minds?"

"We're not sure," Janet said hesitantly. "These last few days have been ... wonderful. But our passes expire in five days, and ...."

"And you don't know what you want to do after that, do you?"

Shelly shook her head. "No."

"We came up with five options," Janet added quickly. "First, we stay as we are now. Second, I change back, and get my orientation re-oriented. Third, Shelly changes back, and I get re-oriented. Fourth, we change back and Shelly gets re-oriented. Lastly, we do nothing, and try to pretend nothing happened, and continue as roommates."

Selena shook her head. "And you know that last one has the same chance of working as a snowball in a barbeque pit, right?"

Shelly nodded. "That's what we figured."

"And there's the cost of lifetime passes. We're just college students, remember?" Janet added.

"That might not be such an obstacle, but five is out, right? And the rest?"

"I think four is out," Shelly said softly. "I ... want to have children, and four wouldn't let us have natural children."

"So it comes down to which one of you changes back, right, or whether you stay as you are?"

"I guess so," Janet said half-heartedly. "If only one of us stays female, you've got to do something about one of our sexual orientations so we'd be a hetero couple."

Selena sat back in her chair. "I think you two have answered most of your questions. The only one that remains is which one of you stays a woman. Or both."

Shelly started at her words. "Yeah, I guess we did, didn't we?"

Selena laughed. "You were expecting me to tell you what to do?" She shook her head. "Sorry, but that's for you to decide, not me. It's your lives, not mine."

"How are we supposed to decide, then?" Janet asked in a plaintive voice. "It's ... confusing."

"You two need to spend some time talking about what you're going to do. Seriously talking. And when you do, you need to remember a few things. Being a woman includes things like periods, with possible cramping and bloating and mood swings. It involves possibly being ogled and leered at in ways that you haven't experienced, just because you're an attractive woman." She ran down a list of things they'd have to consider. "The clothing should mostly take care of itself, since it's a global change, but shopping for women's clothing is no small feat, trust me. And, you better think about your friends and family. Whoever remains will have different friends, and you'll find that your family relationships are very different."

"Are you trying to scare us?" Shelly asked, worry wrinkling her brow.

Selena laughed. "No, that wasn't my intention. What I want you two to do is go into this with your eyes wide open. It's a huge step if one of you stays female. And it'll be a big change for Mack if Shelly stays, because you'll be hetero instead of gay. Your friendships and relationships will have changed in ways that are hard to predict." She shook her head. "It'll take time for both of you to get used to the changes, and at times, it might be rough. At times, you'll wish you hadn't changed."

Janet frowned suddenly. "Like you do?"

Selena laughed. "Very perceptive. Like I _used_ to. I've got a ... partner that makes me feel so warm inside that I've mostly forgotten about the rough parts."

"And that's what we'll have, right?"

Selena started to shake her head, to tell them that she didn't know, but after what Anya had done to them, she couldn't deny it. "Yes, you'll have each other. Whichever way you go, you'll be together – pretty permanently, too."

"We better do some talking, then," Janet said to Shelly.

"Too bad we didn't bring our swim gear," Shelly lamented. "Since neither of us have classes today, it'd be a nice day to relax and play."

Selena got a mischievous smile, and she muttered something under her breath. "Oh, like those?" she asked, pointing at gym bags beside the table.

Both girls' eyes threatened to pop from their sockets in amazement. "I suppose that shouldn't surprise us, but ...." Janet chuckled as she reached for her swim gear.

**********

"Good. Very good!" Nadezhda said happily. She picked up the sword from the table, and swung it at a doorpost. The sword wobbled and then rebounded from the target as if it was made of rubber. "Excellent!"

"I used that spell to disarm a man with a pistol," Grandmother said.

"And you did it again here." She set the sword back on the table. "Now change it back."

Grandmother started with surprise, but then she closed her eyes and thought.

"Open your eyes. If you need the spell in an emergency, you don't have the luxury of closing your eyes and thinking! Hurry! Change it back!" Nadezhda urged, adding confusion to the situation.

Grandmother focused her mind, shutting out the distraction Nadezhda was trying to create. In the silence of her little world, she saw the pattern. She began to chant, moving her fingers according to the mental image. A nearly-invisible bubble burst from her outstretched hand, flying to the table and striking the rubber sword. The bubble deformed, stretching over the sword from hilt to tip, and as soon as the bubble fit the weapon like a glove, it burst in a flash of light.

Nadezhda nodded, and the picked up the sword again. This time, she gingerly ran her finger down the edge, noting with satisfaction the razor sharpness of the blade. She examined it from tip to pommel, and as she grasped the weapon, she spun and slashed, this time easily splintering wood from the doorpost.

"You are doing well," Nadezhda complimented Grandmother. "You don't make any silly mistakes, unlike the young students we're training."

Grandmother laughed. "I have a couple of advantages. I knew those spells once, and I know I went through a phase of making stupid mistakes. So I got it out of my system. Second, I'm older and wiser, and not plagued by some silly notion that I know better than elders."

Nadezhda smiled. "I should have you talk to the youngsters. Perhaps _you_ could talk some sense into their thick heads."

"Now what?"

"Come," Nadezhda said, striding purposefully to the door, still carrying the sword, which made Grandmother more than a bit nervous. Without another word, she walked out of the barn and into a barren field. She looked around without really looking around; Grandmother knew that she was using her magic senses. "The wards are up. We may begin." Without warning, she invoked a lightning bolt toward Grandmother.

Grandmother was too startled to get a counter-spell, or to move. The lightning bolt caught her squarely, and she collapsed, pain radiating through every joint and muscle. "What ...?" she asked as she pulled herself back to her feet.

"Do you think adversaries will give you a chance to prepare a defense?" Nadezhda chided her. "You should always be alert. In this case, your sense should have alerted you to the nature of the spell in plenty of time for you to get a shield up."

"You aren't an adversary," Grandmother retorted.

"Aren't I?" Nadezhda snapped. "How do you know?" Her fingers danced quickly, and a fireball formed before shooting at Grandmother. This time, Grandmother was quicker to react, invoking a small shield like a buckler on her left arm, which she moved to intercept the fireball. The impact staggered her; without the shield, she'd have been knocked on her rear again.

Nadezhda nodded slightly, then she began a flurry of attacks – a lightning bolt, then while Grandmother was distracted by that, she slashed at the old woman with the sword. Grandmother moved her shield to deflect the lightning bolt, and sensing the oncoming physical attack, modified her shield so that the lightning wasn't absorbed, but rather reflected to where the sword was moving. The lightning hit the sword, and she smiled slightly when she heard Nadezhda curse under her breath as she dropped the sword, shaking her hand to rid it of the stinging from the reflected lightning bolt. She took a step back, and nodded approvingly to Grandmother.

Grandmother sighed with relief, the arm that had held the magic buckler dropping as she allowed the shield to vanish. She smiled at Nadezhda, expecting a complement.

Instead, Nadezhda launched a fierce assault, with fireballs interspersed with lightning, catching Grandmother by surprise. The first fireball knocked her backward, but before the second could hit, she managed to call up a larger floating shield that positioned itself between her and her tutor. She focused on keeping the shield in place as blast and bolt after blast and bolt came at her in a non-step frenzy. Suddenly, she realized something else, and before the conjured blade could strike her from her left side, she called up the smaller buckler shield, and deflected its hammering blows. As she did, she was angling the larger shield, hoping to get it to reflect back at Nadezhda, while also keeping the whirling blade from striking her. A couple of fireballs ricocheted off to one side, and grandmother forgot about them as she focused on the incoming attacks.

She should have paid attention to the fireballs that the shield had deflected. They bounced away, seemingly harmlessly, but then began to turn and speed back toward Grandmother. Both hit at the same time, from her blind side as she fought the conjured blade. Once more, she crumpled to the grass. To add insult to injury, her concentration on the large shield was broken, and it collapsed, letting a lightning bolt smash into her.

She lay on the ground, panting for breath as every muscle screamed in agony at the magical abuse they'd suffered. She was helpless before Nadezhda, who was stalking toward her, arms outstretched, ready to invoke more magic in case this was a trick. "Get up. The fight is not over."

"Yes, it is," Grandmother said softly through clenched teeth.

"Get up and defend yourself!" Nadezhda snapped. To emphasize the point, she began to conjure a large fireball.

Grandmother saw the fireball, and felt a hopelessness that she'd not felt since .... That bitter memory triggered a thought, and she managed a faint smile as she began to sing an old, familiar song.

Nadezhda puzzled for a moment at Grandmother's actions, and then loosed the fireball. She'd controlled its power so that it would sting, but not destroy; after all, this was training, and not combat to the death. The fireball flew straight and true to its victim – and then halted as it splashed across an iridescent glow a few feet out from Grandmother, who was slowly sitting up, and still singing. Frowning, Nadezhda tried a lightning bolt, also reduced in power, but it, too, was halted by the shield and then reflected back to Nadezhda.

After recovering from the surprise reflection, Nadezhda lowered her arms and then sat down on the grass. "In a real fight, you would have been defeated," she observed.

Grandmother simply nodded. "I'm old, and my powers are weak. I ... I can't survive a fight with Oksana."

"Yes, you can!" Nadezhda barked at her. "You are NOT weak. Your powers are strong. You've just forgotten how to connect to them. Look at me. I'm nearly two hundred years old. Are my powers weak?" She frowned, and then began an intricate chant.

In a dizzying swirl, the field changed, from autumn foliage and plant awaiting harvest, to spring plants, verdant and green and lush, new growth emerging from the fields as buds were opening and blossoms of the fruit trees showed their resplendent colors. Grandmother looked down at herself, and saw that, once again, she was attired as a pretty young girl. She had no mirror to see her reflection, but she knew that she was her younger self just from her attire and the youthful, graceful hands she stretched out before her.

"Enough rest, daughter," a familiar voice called from behind her.

She turned, and saw the familiar face. "Mama!" she exclaimed happily, rising to her feet.

"The lesson will continue." Without warning, her mama, Marusya, launched a series of magical attacks. With a frown, the girl countered them, deflecting them all with skill and agility. Again, a deflected fireball curved and came at her from behind, but she sensed it, and conjured water behind her even as she countered a fierce physical and magical assault from the front. The fireball to her rear moved, and sensing it, she moved the column of water to match it. On and on, Maruysa attacked, using guile, trickery, deceit, and sheer force to attempt to overwhelm the girl, but she was quick on her feet, and quicker in her mind and senses, catching and deflecting all the attacks.

The girl was so busy defending herself that she didn't even notice the slow changes around her as the fields and trees slowly changed to their fall colors, as if the seasons were passing in mere moments. Marusya, too, began to change, slowly aging and changing shape, until she was Nadezhda. Grandmother didn't notice that her own body was returning, leaving the fifteen-year-old girl behind. Only when the attacks ceased did she notice that it was Nadezhda, not her mother, instructing and testing her.

Nadezhda merely smiled. "Yes, it was an illusion. As I told you, your power is not tied to your age, but to your belief in yourself. When you thought you were young, you acted with the speed and power of your younger days. As the illusion faded, you were so pre-occupied that you didn't notice. Only now do you realize what you have just accomplished."

Grandmother frowned. "You ... you tricked me."

"Yes, and it was necessary. You had created a mental block. You had convinced yourself that your power had faded with age, when it hadn't really. That mental block was preventing you from using your true potential."

Wordlessly, the two sat on the grass, resting from the duel, while Grandmother thought about what Nadezhda had just shown her. Nadezhda's illusion was so realistic that Grandmother had been convinced that she was young and powerful again, and learning from her mother. "That was a dirty trick," Grandmother commented after a bit.

"It worked, didn't it? And nobody was harmed, right?"

Grandmother frowned. "That's true, mostly. It still hurts very much to think of those days when I last saw my mother, though."

Nadezhda leaned closer to Grandmother and put her arm around her, pulling her onto Nadezhda's shoulder. "She was so proud of you. She used her scrying ball to watch you frequently, and she took great delight in when you avoided temptation and stayed on the true path." The matron wiped her eyes, which had suddenly become moist. "She never gave up hope that you were safe, physically and from the darkness."

"I wish ...." Grandmother began wistfully, before she halted.

"We all do," Nadezhda answered. "But you know that you would have been put to death under our laws. We all did what we had to do, so that you might survive."

Grandmother sighed, her own eyes watering. "I failed as a parent," she said absently. "I couldn't stop Chessa from turning. Now I'm afraid that I won't be able to stop Anya, either."

"You'll find a way. You love her too much to let her become evil. Remember that. Remind her constantly how much you love her." She hopped to her feet. "Enough rest. Time for more lessons."

Grandmother pulled herself up and stood. "Yes. I need to keep learning so I can save Anya."

Nadezhda took a dozen steps away from Grandmother, and then turned. "You will attack me."

Grandmother recoiled in shock. "I ... I can't," she stammered.

"You must. It's the only way to defeat the powers of darkness."

"But ... the last time I attacked, I killed Chessa!"

"You must." Nadezhda stood ready. "Defense alone will not win a duel. You must strike your opponent and disable them."

"I ... I can't!" Grandmother sobbed.

The scene slowly shifted, until Grandmother was a young apprentice, facing her terrible and evil master, Eldor, in a scene so perfect that she forgot that it was an illusion. He sneered at her, and then began to berate her, insulting her abilities, and promising to extract his tutoring fees from her nubile body. He came to her, and ripped her blouse off, leering at her exposed breasts. "I'll have fun playing with those, among other things," he said with an evil sneer.

Grandmother suddenly transformed into a dervish, throwing everything she had to stop the evil wizard. Lightning bolts attacked from all sides, and fireballs of immense power and fury. They bombarded the shielded figure of Eldor, who seemed surprised at the intensity of the onslaught. The sword on the ground flew to Grandmother's hand, and she began to use it as well, slashing at Eldor to add to his distraction. A quick wave of her hand, and a short incantation, and a replica of the sword animated itself and flew behind the evil mage, attacking from behind as well.

A sudden volley of fireballs erupted from Grandmother's hand, while her sword swung with determined intent toward Eldor. He was so overwhelmed by the frontal assault that the sword at the rear had a clear shot. Only at the last minute did Eldor deflect it from a blow to his heart; it slid down and made a nasty gash on his leg. Within seconds, blood was everywhere, and Eldor, a surprised look on his face, collapsed.

The illusion didn't fade; it simply snapped out of existence. Grandmother stood, holding the sword, staring horrified at Nadezhda, who lay on the ground with blood gushing from her thigh. Grandmother knew instantly that the conjured sword had sliced a major artery. "I'll go get help," she said frantically as the real sword fell to the ground.

"No time," Nadezhda said. Her complexion was already fading toward white as she lost more and more blood. "Heal me."

"I ... I can't!" Grandmother complained weakly.

"You must!" Nadezhda insisted, her voice losing its intensity. "I'll bleed to death while you go for help. You must heal me!"

Grandmother fell to her knees beside the elder, and furrowed her brow in concentration. She'd once known the healing spells, but they seemed cloudy memories. She grasped at one, and suddenly, it became clear. It was also the wrong spell for the situation. Focusing once again, she clutched at another, missing it the first time but snaring it the second. Again, it clarified. It would have to do; Nadezhda was extremely pale, and the pool of blood on the ground was growing larger. Grandmother took two deep breaths, and then incanted as her fingers waggled through the spell's template. She felt power flowing into her hands, which she then laid on Nadezhda's injured leg. Grandmother winced at the pain that was reflected back to her, an intense burning sensation from the elder's wound, but held her hands. Power flowed into the elder, slowly at first, but with increasing speed.

When Grandmother sat back on her heels, her healing energy spent, she looked at Nadezhda. The elder's color was better than the ghostly tint of moments ago, and it appeared that the artery had closed, staunching the blood flow.

The elder's eyes opened, and she smiled at Grandmother. "I knew you could do it."

Grandmother waited, glancing around, looking for the scene to shift yet again, but it didn't. "This ... this isn't another illusion, is it?" she asked hesitantly.

Nadezhda shook her head. "No. This is real."

A look of horror crossed Grandmother's face. "I ... I almost killed you!" she cried.

"It seems I underestimated your powers," Nadezhda said with a tiny smile. "I think the lesson is complete for the day. Help me up, and we'll go back to the cottages."

**********

"Liz!" Anya called when she noticed the blonde head-lifeguard walking toward the employee hut. "Wait up!"

Liz sighed heavily, and then tried to put on a smile. "What's up?" she asked in a guardedly-friendly tone.

"I was wondering if you and some of the girls wanted to go to the club tonight? It _is_ Friday night, and it's kind of a tradition."

Liz felt her muscles tense, and she fought to keep a civil tongue. It _had_ been a routine gathering – until Anya started hanging out almost exclusively with Oksana. "I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it. I've got an intimate dinner date with Kyle tonight, and then we're taking his niece Chloe to a movie."

"Well, I guess the rest of us can go, but it won't be the same without you."

Liz nearly bit her tongue. It hadn't been the same without Anya for quite a while, and _she_ thought nothing of that!

"I guess I'll ask Jenny if she wants to go."

Liz sighed and shook her head. "If you remember, Jenny is taking tomorrow off, because she and Melinda rented a sailboat and are spending the weekend sailing with Natty and a couple of her friends."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. That was forgetful of me. Natty and Megan and their boyfriends – what are their names? Oh, yes, Jeff and Eric – they changed so they can have a girls' weekend sailing."

"And Holly is taking the weekend with Chuck at Crystal Lake," Liz added.

"Doesn't sound like much of the gang is left." She sounded disappointed, which was a change of attitude for her lately. "Well, have fun with Kyle." She turned and walked off toward the office. Already, her mind was racing. Were the girls avoiding her? Or were they just coincidentally occupied at the same time?

As she neared the office, Anya noticed Vicky heading toward the women's showers. "Vicky," she called.

Vicky turned, and her cheerful expression became quite neutral when she spotted Anya. "Hi, Anya," she said, forcing herself to be civil.

"I'm not doing anything tonight. Do you want to do some bridal things, like looking at dresses, and cakes, and such?" Anya asked, her voice carrying a little hope.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Vicky said, "but Rob and I are spending the evening with my parents." She pasted on a smile. "It's nice that Rob is bonding with them so well after he lost his own family. Why don't you and Greg go out for dinner and dancing?" she asked.

Anya's sudden scowl told Vicky more than enough. "I don't think so," she said gruffly. "He's always too busy with his school projects or his fraternity, among other things."

Vicky caught the insinuation in Anya's words and tone. "I don't think Greg would ever do anything like that."

"Yes, he would," Anya snapped. "He's just like any other guy in that regard. I saw how he was talking and dancing with Trish the other night!"

"Greg is _not_ interested in Trish," Vicky said firmly. "You should know that."

"Oh yeah? Why is he blowing me off again?"

"How long of an advance notice did you give him?" Vicky saw the surprised look on Anya's face. "Is this a spur-of-the-moment thing? If so, you're getting pretty upset when he might already have made legitimate plans because he thought _you_ had plans already."

"You're taking his side, too, aren't you?" Anya said half-accusingly. "Well, fine! I'll just go out myself tonight. There are some pretty good resorts in the otherworld, where at least the company won't lie to me because they're jealous of my powers and friends!"

**********

"I have taught you all that I can," Nadezhda said solemnly. "Now you must go back, before it's too late for Anya."

Grandmother gave Nadezhda a hug. "I thank you for your instruction, and your hospitality. All of you," she added, glancing around the room where the rest of the clan was gathered.

"I have two more things to give you," Nadezhda said. At her signal, one of the older women came forward holding something wrapped in leather. She handed it to Grandmother, who looked at it, and then at Nadezhda, bewildered.

"It belonged to your mother. You should have it."

Grandmother gasped lightly; this was totally unexpected. "I ... I don't know what to say! I thought ... that you'd reject me, but instead ...." She wiped the tears from her eyes, and then turned her attention to the bundle. Slowly, deliberately, she unfolded the leather wrapping, and revealed a large, and quite ancient, book. She looked up at Nadezhda.

"It is your mother's grimoire. Even at the last, she was hopeful that someday, you would have it." She embraced Grandmother once more, then stepped back. "Now, go, Innochka," she said, "but know you are welcome back anytime, because you are family."

Grandmother's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped when she realized what Nadezhda had said. "You mean ...?" she asked, almost unwilling to believe what she'd heard.

"I mean, Innochka," Nadezhda said, smiling, "that you are of the clan. You always will be."

Grandmother sobbed, overwhelmed by emotions. She'd been treated far better by the clan that she'd expected, welcomed like long-lost family. Instead of suspicion and hostility, she received warmth and compassion. Instead of a sentence of death, she received life – and what was more, she received her name back. She _was_ part of the clan. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't care as she embraced the clan members, starting with another hug for Nadezhda, her own grandmother.

**********

With a somewhat jaunty step, Grandmother stepped into the office, feeling incredibly relaxed and relieved after her trip. True, the train trip and flight had been fatiguing, but the gifts she'd received had filled her with such joy that she barely remembered the journey. Under Grandmother's arm was the tome from her mother, from Marusya, a precious connection to her long-dead mother.

Across the office, Anya sat at her desk, looking bored as she sorted mail. "Oh, good," she said, not sounding at all like she'd missed Grandmother, "you're back."

"Yes, and it was a good trip. Tell me, what did I miss?" Grandmother asked.

"Not much," Anya answered as she rose from her desk. "Just the usual. Some unhappy male customers, bills, one of the pumps burned out, so we've got the Twister down while Jenny repairs it. Normal stuff."

"Nothing ... unusual between you and Selena?" Grandmother asked carefully.

Anya scowled. "Well, she was a little pushy at times. Mostly with the magic changes." She shook her head. "It's like she doesn't trust me." She shrugged off the concern. "Well, I've got to get ready to go. We're going to spend an afternoon and evening on the Riviera," she announced as if it was as routine as going shopping at the mall.

"You and Greg?"

"Oh, please!" Anya snorted derisively. "He's being a pissed-off baby right now, angry because I don't spend enough time with him, and then he has the nerve to go out dancing with Trish, the new girl!" She shook her head. "No, I'm going with someone fun. Oksana."

"Anya, you know Greg would never cheat on you."

"You sound like Vicky and Liz now, defending him when he screws up. Well, I'm not buying it. Gotta run. Bye." She waved her fingers and vanished, leaving Grandmother sitting in the office, absolutely stunned.

**********

Janet and Shelly sat nervously in their apartment, Janet on the sofa and Shelly in a wing chair nearby. They glanced at each other nervously, and then at the clock, repeating this ritual every couple of minutes.

"Only a few more minutes," Janet said nervously.

"Have you got any idea of what you want?" Shelly asked softly. She didn't trust herself to sit next to Janet, because she knew she'd want to hug and cuddle with Janet, and then the change would inevitably happen.

"I think so. You?"

"I'm not sure. I could probably go either way," Shelly admitted.

"I ... I want to stay like I am," Janet blurted out suddenly.

"What?"

"I want to stay like I am, so we can have a relationship!"

"Why? Why not change back, and let me stay?" Shelly asked, confused by Janet's desire.

"Because ... lots of people know me – Mack – as gay. If I suddenly became straight, it might cause ... issues. If I stay, then I'll get to start over. And I'll be able to be with you."

"That sort of makes sense. Assuming that I didn't want to stay, too."

"Do you?"

"I ... I ...." Shelly thought a moment. "Yeah. I know that Selena said that my relationships with my friends and family would change if I stayed female. I ... I don't care. You're too important to me."

Janet sighed. "I can. My dad – he hates the fact that I'm gay, but I'm not sure he'll be more understanding if I'm a lesbian. He, and several others, cut me out of their wills. Mom, well, she tries, but she just can't understand. But if I'm Janet, maybe, hopefully, that'll be better, and I'll have family that will actually talk to me."

"I didn't know." Shelly looked thoughtful for a moment. "You realize that if we both stay, we'll need to have sperm donors if we want children."

"Yeah. I considered that." Her face lit up. "What if we stored 'samples' from our male selves, so we could impregnate each other?"

Shelly started to perk up, but then paused. "I think Selena said that reality would change completely, so we wouldn't have been men to give the samples."

"Oh, yeah," Janet began, but she stopped, a surprised look on her face. "I think it's starting," she said softly as tingling began to spread through her body. She glanced at Shelly, and saw that she, too, was wide-eyed and surprised.

In a few minutes, it was over. Stan sat in the wing chair, his clothing having changed with him, while Mack sat nervously on the sofa. Mack glanced uneasily at Stan, not knowing how Stan would react knowing all that he did.

Stan smiled. "I guess we should get some sleep. We do have an important meeting tomorrow."

Mack started, and then a smile crept over his face. "Yes, I guess we do."

"But first, we have to stop by the bank so we can make withdrawals," Stan continued.

"Both of us?"

"Because," Stan said with a smile, "if we're going to change so we can be girlfriends ...,"

"More than girlfriends?" Mack asked hopefully.

"More than girlfriends," Stan corrected himself with a smile, "then we both need passes. And don't worry; I can help out with your pass, since your finances are a little tighter than mine."

"You're going to be good to me, aren't you?" Mack teased.

"Not once we've changed," Stan laughed. "I'll want to be a bit ... naughty."

"In bed?"

Stan blushed, giving Mack his answer.

The two slowly rose from their seats. For a moment, they were unsure of just what to do – handshake, hug, or nothing. But finally, Stan gave Mack a 'guy hug'. "We'll talk more at breakfast, okay?"

There wasn't much more to talk about at breakfast. Instead, they joked about whether Janet was going to be a high-maintenance girlfriend or not, whether her shopping habits were going to drive Stan nuts, and a variety of other lighthearted topics.

An hour and a half later, after a stop at two banks, they arrived at Bikini Beach. As they got out of the car, Stan glanced across the roof at Mack. "Nervous?"

"Would it surprise you if I said that I actually wasn't?" Mack laughed.

"So am I. Are you sure this is the way you want to go?"

"I'm sure," Mack answered firmly.

Selena was at the ticket booth; she smiled and directed the two into the office, pausing to hang a 'back in 5 minutes' sign before she left. Inside the office, the guys were surprised to see Grandmother in her chair; she'd been absent for quite a while, and they'd had to deal with Anya and Selena. They far preferred to deal with Selena.

"Now," Grandmother began in a warm, friendly tone, "I understand that you two have been talking a lot about what you want to do now."

"Yes, ma'am," Stan said nervously. He wasn't quite sure how he should deal with Grandmother.

"Oh, don't be nervous," Grandmother said with a smile. She rolled her eyes skyward. "Where are my manners?" Turning to the guys, she continued, "Would you care for something to drink? Iced tea? Soft drinks? Juice?"

Stan shook his head. "No thank you," he said. Mack likewise turned down the offer.

"Okay then," Grandmother said as she guided the men to the casual area and sat down in one of the wing chairs, "You two have something to talk to me about, right?"

Stan glanced at Mack, and then nodded. "After Anya changed us, we ... found our lives a little ... complicated."

"Mostly about what happens when we changed back," Mack added quickly.

"But you've talked about it?" The guys both nodded. "This is a one-way change. It's not possible to reverse it once a person buys a lifetime pass," Grandmother cautioned. "Are you sure you've thought this through?"

"Ma'am," Stan said, his voice firm with conviction, "we've thought and talked about almost nothing else for the last week."

"And your decision?"

Stan's mouth dropped open for a moment. "Don't you have some magic thing that you already know?" he stammered.

"Well, I didn't want to be a show-off," Grandmother admitted with a grin.

"I'm going to change back to Janet," Mack said, a tiny squeak of nervousness in his voice.

"You're sure?"

Mack nodded. "I like being Janet. And maybe I can repair some family relationships if I'm changed."

"That's not guaranteed at all," Grandmother cautioned.

"It can't be worse than it is right now," Mack complained bitterly. "I'm an outcast to my family," he said, "and to almost all my high school friends, just because I admitted who I am."

"Okay. I'm pretty satisfied that you've given this proper consideration. Stan?"

Stan glanced at Mack, and then nodded. "I'm sure. When we were girls, it was ... magical. I want to keep that."

Grandmother nodded. "You should be happy to know that I've also done some magic checking, and I know there's no reason for me to _not_ sell both of you passes." She stood. "Shall we?" She gestured to her desk.

Once the paperwork was done, Grandmother looked at the two soon-to-be lovebirds. "I know you both want children. If you'd like, I can 'freeze' some of each of your sperm out of the reality change, so you _would_ be able to be inseminated by each other's former male self."

Stan and Mack's eyes lit up at that revelation. "You can do that? Will that ... cost extra?"

"Since we messed up a bit with you, consider it part of the service. Now I know it's going to be embarrassing, but ...." She handed cups to both men. "If you take samples before you shower, they'll be preserved, and I'll get them to a cryo-freeze facility I know to safeguard them." She smiled. "And don't worry – I can put a little something extra on you so that your, um, samples are of significant quantity and quality for future use."

Stan and Mack were both beet-red at Grandmother's comments, but also delighted that she'd thought of doing this favor for them. They took the cups and, still red-faced, walked to the shower room.

Twenty minutes later, Janet and Shelly bounced happily out of the locker room, huge grin on their faces, and holding hands, to where Grandmother waited. "Well?" Grandmother asked.

With a broad grin, Janet wrapped her arms around Shelly, pulling her toward her and into a very passionate kiss. When they broke apart, both nearly breathless, Janet grinned. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm in love with the most beautiful woman in the world," Shelly said with a silly grin on her face.

"That's my line," Janet teased. Then she kissed Shelly again, longer, and with even more passion.

Later in the day, in the office, Selena and Grandmother watched her scrying ball as the two lovers kissed yet again. "I think they'll be happy together," Grandmother said with a contented smile.

"What? No certainty? You don't know?" Selena asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, yes, I do know," Grandmother admitted sheepishly, "but I wasn't going to tell you. If you want to know, do your own scrying."

**********

"And that's what happened," Grandmother said, picking up her iced tea and taking a sip. "Nadezhda said that we can keep her from turning, but we have to make sure that our love and friendship distract her from her anger."

Greg shook his head sadly. "That's going to be hard," he said. "She ... she's been so cold toward me. She's canceled at least a dozen dates at the last minute, and always so she could do something with Oksana. She accused me of hitting on Trish, the new girl. And ..."

Grandmother placed her hand gently on his arm. "I know what she did to you. I know how embarrassed, and hurt, you must feel." She sighed. "But we still have to love her."

"I ... I wanted," Greg began, "I wanted to propose to her," he finally said. "But now ...." He shook his head. "I'm not sure. She's not the same girl I fell in love with. I ... I don't know her anymore. I ... I couldn't marry her the way she is now." His face bore a determined, resolute frown, even though Grandmother could read the turmoil of angst behind the façade.

"I knew you had bought a ring," Grandmother said sadly, "before all this started. And I'm hoping that you won't have to return it."

"I don't know if I can do it," he said. "Not after what she's done to me."

"Greg," Grandmother said firmly, causing him to look up at her. "You loved her, but you're confused by what she's going through. If you still love her, even a little bit, you need to be strong, and to fight for her. You need to help keep the darkness away from her. You need to hang on to that love you feel."

"I'll try," Greg said. "I guess."

"Do, or do not. There is no try."

Greg let out a tiny chuckle at Grandmother's words. "I ... I want to fight for her. She means more to me than anything."

"Then fight. Don't let her ever forget that you love her, no matter what. Don't let that sweet girl inside this shell of confusion get away."

Greg scooted a few inches closer, and then wrapped his arms around the old woman. "Thank you, Grandmother," he said softly.

Grandmother embraced him, offering him what comfort and succor she could. "Call me Innochka," she said softly. "When we're alone."

Greg's eyes widened, and he pulled back so he could see Grandmother's face, to see if she was pulling his leg.

"My ... grandmother, the matron who banished me but let me live, gave me my name back."

Greg embraced her again. "That sounds wonderful." He paused again, and asked, "Does Anya know?"

"No," Grandmother said sadly. "And I'm not going to tell her, at least not until this is all over. So please don't tell anyone else."

"I won't, Gr ..." Greg stopped and smiled. "Innochka. What does it mean, anyway?"

"It means 'innocent'," Grandmother said with a smile. "What I hope for my granddaughter as well."

**********

So ends the tale of Stan and Mack
The tale of the Temptation of Anya continues in Part 3