“Odd, though. You don’t look like you have a transformation spell on you. Or any kind of spell, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a transformation, but I think I’d recognize it. Must be some kind I’m not familiar with.”

The Mural and the Cabinet

part 3 of 21

by Trismegistus Shandy

Thanks to Lucario and Maplestrip for feedback on story ideas, and to Yuki Kitsune for beta reading the manuscript.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Devi woke early, while everyone else was still asleep. It was natural enough; he’d gotten a few hours of sleep early on, before going through the portal and coming here. He got up and figured out how to turn on the lamp — it didn’t have a switch, exactly, but there were magic symbols painted on it and you touched one of them to make it light up.

He needed to pee, and something felt weird about that too, but he wasn’t letting himself think about it. His pajama pants fell down as soon as he stood up, and he pulled them up and held them up with his hand for now instead of twisting and tucking in the waistband like before. Syuna had shown him where the bathroom was before he went to bed, and he was surprised they had indoor plumbing, though he realized he shouldn’t have been when they had cars and trains and stuff. He turned on the light in the bathroom and stepped in.

There was a mirror on the wall. It was the first time he’d seen his new appearance.

“I look like a little girl,” he said disgustedly. His hair was black now, and his face was round and cute like a four or five year old. And his eyes were brown now, and his skin darker... he looked like Zindla’s little sister. Last night, Tyemba had remarked that he looked like a Zyuneban, which apparently was the race or ethnic group that Zindla’s family belonged to. But they said his name was more like a Stasa name, with “Plata” shared by everyone in his family, instead of something like “Amanda-lan” to say that his mother was Amanda. Well, he could figure that out after he peed.

He stood in front of the toilet and let go of the waistband of his pajama pants so they dropped, and fumbled at his crotch so he could aim.

Nothing there.

He looked down, pulling up his loose pajama shirt to get a better view, then, with a feeling of dread, turned around and looked at himself in the mirror.

“I don’t just look like a girl,” he said. “I am a girl. That must be the worst portal ever!”

He knew what girls looked like because he and Amy used to take baths together when they were little, before their parents got weird about it and told them boys and girls weren’t supposed to see each other naked. He knew how girls peed, too. He sat down and relaxed and after a few seconds, pee came splattering out. The toilet paper was kind of rough and yellowish, not white and soft like the stuff back home. He couldn’t figure out how to flush the toilet at first, finally finding a chain above eye level he needed to pull. The sink was easier, with a knob like he was used to from back home, but it only gave cold water.

He found some books on the shelf in the living room. None of them looked like kids' books, but he picked out one that didn’t look too hard and started reading. It was harder than it looked, with lots of words he didn’t know, and kind of boring. He had put it away and started looking for something else to read when Pasyala came downstairs to cook breakfast.

“I found something out,” he said shyly.

“Oh?”

“I don’t just look like a girl... the portal turned me into a girl.”

“That’s odd. I wonder why? Perhaps the wizard will know.” She pulled some ingredients out of the cabinets and started cooking. “On the bright side, you’ll be able to share Zindla’s bed, instead of sleeping on the sofa as long as you stay with us.”

“I guess.”

Zindla was the next one up, and was unsurprised to hear that Devi was a girl in fact. When Tyemba got up, he had some good news.

“Oh, I suppose it will wear off in a few days. Those transformation spells never last long.”

“Yay!” Devi cried.

“Odd, though. You don’t look like you have a transformation spell on you. Or any kind of spell, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a transformation, but I think I’d recognize it. Must be some kind I’m not familiar with.”

“You can see when people have spells on them?”

“Sure — didn’t I tell you last night I’m a wizard?”

“I must have been too sleepy to remember. Sorry. But can you figure out how the portal works by yourself?”

“I’m not that powerful or that knowledgeable. I can see magic, and often figure out what it does if it’s not too complicated, but I can’t cast my own spells. Pasyala’s a wizard, too, a low-power one like me.”

“What about Zindla and Syuna?”

“Nope,” Zindla said, looking morose. “I was born three days too early. And Mother was off by a whole month.”

That didn’t make sense to Devi, so he asked: “Why does it matter when you’re born?”

“Because that determines if you’re a wizard or not,” Syuna said. “If you’re born on the summer or winter solstice, you’re a wizard. The closer to the exact moment of the solstice you’re born, the more powerful you’ll be. Tyemba and I tried to time it so Zindla would be born on the winter solstice, but I went into labor too early.”

“So I have to marry a wizard if I want to keep the shop going,” Zindla said.

“Sorry,” Devi said. Zindla didn’t look old enough to get married, but Devi supposed she meant when she was older.

“What are we going to do about clothes?” Syuna wondered. “You can’t go around in those oversized things all the time, and we don’t have anything that fits you... I suppose I’ll go see my sister or brother and see if I can borrow some of their daughters' old clothes and see if they fit you.”

So after breakfast, Syuna went out while Tyemba manned the store. Zindla stayed upstairs to keep Devi company until she got back; they talked about the differences between their worlds, and Devi asked some questions about the book he’d read a little of that morning, much of which he didn’t understand.

After a couple of hours, Syuna came back with several child-sized robes, gowns, undergarments, and pairs of socks and shoes. She had Devi try them on, and the best fit was a blue-green gown that was supposed to be worn with a white under-robe over the panties, and a matching pair of blue-green slippers, which were a little big on Devi, so he had to be careful how he walked. Neither the panties nor the robes had elastic or zippers or anything, but tied up with strings, and the panties were fluffy with something like accordion folds. When you stood or sat with your legs together, the folds closed up, but if you sat on the toilet with your legs spread, they would easily separate so you didn’t have to take them off to pee. Devi didn’t like the girly clothes, but supposed he didn’t have a right to complain, since he was a girl until the spell wore off.

Once he was dressed, they went downstairs. Zindla and Syuna took over the store, and Tyemba took Devi by the hand and led him through the front door of the shop and into the street.

Devi was excited to be seeing the larger world for the first time. There were more pedestrians and fewer cars than Devi remembered seeing when his family had gone to downtown Atlanta a couple of times. And the cars were weird, bigger than the ones he was used to, and made of wood, with intricate designs painted or carved on their sides. There was no engine noise from the cars, but plenty of noise from the large wheels rattling on the cobblestone streets, and people talking and sometimes shouting. The buildings weren’t that tall around here, two to three stories for the most part, sometimes flush together and sometimes with narrow alleys between them. Further off, he could see some taller buildings. They had ornamentation carved on their fronts like some of the older buildings in Atlanta.

They didn’t walk far, only to the next street corner, which seemed to be a bus stop. And the bus was the weirdest thing Devi had seen yet: its sides were open, and there were hardly any seats, and instead of seatbelts there were poles and bars you were supposed to hang onto, like in the MARTA train Devi had ridden when his family went downtown to see The Nutcracker. There were little stairs that a man lowered to the street whenever it stopped, so it wasn’t hard for Devi to climb up into it.

“Hold tight onto the pole with both hands,” Tyemba advised, and Devi nodded. Tyemba and Devi took hold of the same pole.

“I know. I’m not as little as I look, remember.”

“Yes, of course.”

Devi thought the bus wasn’t going very fast compared to cars back home, but it felt fast because it was open and the wind was blowing past his face every time it moved. They got off and waited for another bus a few streets later, then rode that one a lot longer, getting off in a neighborhood with taller buildings — still not huge skyscrapers, though, just five to ten stories high. Tyemba took his hand again and led him down a side-street and into the front lobby of what seemed to be an office building. They went into an elevator and Tyemba said to the woman sitting in a chair in the corner, “Sixth floor, please.” The woman nodded and made a couple of gestures; the door closed, and Devi felt a little heavier, like the elevator was moving, — but she hadn’t pushed a button or anything. And there wasn’t a light-up indicator saying what floor they were on or anything, like in the elevators back home.

A little later they stopped and the door opened again. Tyemba led him down a hall to an office with a glass window in the door; there was a wooden sign hanging outside that said:

Masu-lan Nidlaya — Talismans analyzed, repaired, or made to order

“Let me do the talking, at first,” Tyemba said. “Don’t speak unless Nidlaya asks you a question, all right?”

“All right.”

Tyemba opened the door and led him into the office. There was a young woman sitting at a desk, lighter-skinned than Tyemba and his family, with light brown hair, who stood up and said: “Tyemba, how are you? I’ll let Nidlaya know you are here.” But before she did that, she said to Devi, “And who are you, you precious little thing?” Tyemba cleared his throat, and Devi glared at her.

“She’s lost far from home,” Tyemba said. “I hope Nidlaya can help us return her to her parents.”

“Oh, poor thing! I’ll be right back.” She went through a door behind her desk, saying something Devi couldn’t quite hear, then coming back and sitting down to work on some papers.

They’d been speaking a different language from what Zindla and her family spoke at home. Devi could understand it just as well.

Just a minute or two later a man came out. He was older than Tyemba or Devi’s parents, but younger than Pasyala, and he looked like them, with the same skin and hair colors. “Tyemba,” he said, “come on back. Shmisi said something about a lost child?” He looked perplexed.

“Yes, I’ll explain...” Tyemba took Devi’s hand again, which Devi was starting to resent, and led him into the back room.

The room was half filled by a large table with various little bits of something scattered on it, and tools, and papers weighted down by other tools. It was surrounded by shelves filled with miscellaneous statues, pieces of jewelry, carved wooden boxes, and so forth, like the second aisle in Tyemba and Syuna’s shop, plus bottles and jars of various liquids, powders, and other things. Nidlaya gestured to a couple of chairs and sat down in another, across the table from the others. Devi climbed into one of the chairs, his feet dangling a few inches off the floor.

Tyemba explained what had happened last night and what Devi had told them. “Have you ever heard of a talisman like that,” he asked finally, “something that opens a portal to a far-off place or even another world?”

“Vague rumors, but nothing reliable,” said Nidlaya. “I’ll come out to the shop and take another look at the cabinet, though. I think I remember it; you had me look at it not long after you bought it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and you couldn’t identify its enchantment then. But now, maybe with the clues from Devi’s story, you can find out more...?”

“I hope so. Devi, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Sure.”

“Tyemba says you were a boy before you came through this portal, right?”

“Yes, and I was ten years old, not four or five or however old I am now. And I had whiter skin and brown hair, and blue eyes, and my face didn’t look anything like this.”

Nidlaya asked him a lot of questions about his bedroom, the mural on the wall, the house, what he knew about the previous owner, and so forth. Then he asked more general questions about Devi’s world. This went on for so long that Devi got hungry, but not long after that, Shmisi came in with a big platter of bread, cheese, smoked ham, and raisins. Everyone ate with their bare hands, instead of with spoons like at supper last night or breakfast this morning. After they ate, the questions went on for some time longer, and then Nidlaya got up from his chair.

“I’m going to touch you with some different things,” he said, “and see if I can figure out the spell on you.”

“All right,” Devi said. Nidlaya opened a couple of jars and got some dried flowers out of them, then touched each of them to Devi’s cheek or the back of his hand, and did the same with a couple of jewels. Finally he put both hands on his shoulders, closed his eyes, and stood there for a minute or two. Then he let go, opened his eyes, and shook his head.

“That’s odd,” he said. “I’d doubt your story if Tyemba hadn’t told me about you. There’s no transformation spell on you, no spell at all that I can see.”

“I’ll take her to a spellbreaker on the way home,” Tyemba said, “to make sure.”

“Hmm...” Nidlaya looked thoughtful, then said, “Devi, what about if you go sit in the outer office with Shmisi for a few minutes. I need to talk to Tyemba alone for a bit.”

“All right,” Devi said, and went, feeling left out.

It is no longer a spoiler at this point to say that Zindla's world is the setting of my novel The Bailiff and the Mermaid, though I think neither this novel nor that have any spoilers for the other. This one is set about a century later than The Bailiff and the Mermaid.

If you want to read the whole novel (51,700 words) right now without waiting for the serialization, you can find it in my ebook collection, Unforgotten and Other Stories. It's available from Smashwords in epub format and Amazon in Kindle format. (Smashwords pays its authors better royalties than Amazon.)

You can find my earlier ebook novels and short fiction collection here: