comprehend, but I only use it as a last resort."
"Let's assume we've reached that point."
She sighed, and she closed her eyes and held up her hands, palms facing each other and slightly bent, as she arranged her fingers in a complex yet chaotic pattern. In the space between, the air shimmered and warped, and a glowing sign appeared. Whorls and curves around a central dot composed its appearance, but Differel could discern no pattern. In fact, it seemed to be the very opposite of a pattern, as if the nature of absolute and utter chaos could itself be a kind of orderly arrangement, just one no human mind could comprehend. The only thing she found inexplicable was that it was yellow instead of orange.
"I swear," the Princess intoned, "by the Yellow Sign, emblem of Lost Carcosa, on the shore of Lake Hali, in the Hyades, under the eye of Aldebaran; in the name of the Phantom of Truth and the Pallid Mask; witnessed by Hastur, Lord Of All; that I shall abide by the rules I have set forth for this, our game. If I lie: may my soul be consigned to eternal torment in the cloudy depths of dread Demhe."
She opened her eyes and dropped her hands. The sign lingered for a moment in the air, then wavered and faded away. Differel felt glad. While it remained, it had seemed as if the whole universe had grown dark, as the sign felt like a tear in the very fabric of existence. With its passing she shuddered, relieved, as if having witnessed the hairsbreadth escape of the world from Doomsday.
"Does that satisfy you, Cousin?" Her tone of voice suggested she would not accept any answer other than yes. Differel nodded, trying to get control of her haggard breathing. If the Princess had been willing to invoke Armageddon to prove her sincerity, she wasn't going to challenge it.
The Princess grinned and clapped her hands. "Ooooo, this'll be so much fun! So, this is what you do: go to the stables."
She waited for the Carcosan to say more, but she only grinned. "And what then?"
"Oh, you'll figure it out! But if you don't, or if you can't do what's needed, I win! But, I do need to make one minor change before we start." She snapped her fingers.
She felt her bosom grow warm. She raised her hands to her breasts out of reflex and felt something odd. Looking down, she jumped: they were now at least four cup sizes bigger. They didn't sag, either, but sat firm and erect like those of an anime bimbo.
"Bloody hell!"
"Don't worry, they'll revert to normal when the hour is up, though let me know if you wanna keep 'em! But you'll need them to win the game."
"Very well. Speaking of reverting, restore my people."
The Princess shook her head. "Nope, I'll need 'em, to provide obstacles for you to overcome. But when the hour's up, as I promised, win or lose, they'll be back to normal with no memory of what they did."
"I understand."
"Good. If that's all, then let the games begin! Your hour starts now. Good luck, Cousin!" She vanished with a giggle, to be replaced by a phantom stop watch beginning a sixty-minute countdown.
She looked around, wondering what to do. "Oh, bother." Obviously, she had to get out of the house, but how? There was only one--
The sound of the kick panel being opened startled her. She whirled and watched as someone pushed a box of files out of the way. She glanced at the guns in the case, but decided against arming herself. She wouldn't shoot her own people, and in their present state she doubted they would feel threatened by the sight of a weapon. If only one or two got in, maybe three, she figured she could subdue them, but if it was an entire horde she was doomed. She couldn't fight them all in the close confines of the safe's interior.
Fortunately only one person emerged; naked except for a single sock on the left foot, her same height and build, with a slightly larger bosom (before her 'enhancement'), an identical face, but with blue eyes, no glasses, and a brassy blonde short-cut. It turned out to be Magdalene Ingrid King, codenamed Miss Primary, her best, most experienced double, and manager of the Caerleon Order.
Maggie glanced at her as she stepped through stooped over, then straightened up. "Thank God I found you!" She started towards her. "I--Jesus Christ! What happened to you?" She stared at her in bug-eyed shock, her mouth twisted into a sneer of disgust.
Differel couldn't help looking down at herself. "What, the clothes or the Bristols?"
Recovering, Maggie stepped up to her. "Frankly, both, but the former I can figure out myself."
"They're a gift from the Princess in Orange."
"Is she behind all this?!"
"I'm afraid so. She and I are engaged in a game. I have to find out the cause of all this and correct it in one hour, or I become her plaything forever." She circled her breasts with a finger. "She gave me these to fix whatever the bloody hell is wrong. I also imagine you're my partner."
"What?"
"I asked for help. I was going to request Team Girl, but she said she sent them away so they wouldn't interfere. Instead it looks like she sent you. What do you remember?"
Maggie scratched her head. "Not much. I was going over some reports with Sharona, when I blanked out. I seem to recall snatches of an orgy, then chasing after you. When I snapped back to reality, I was outside your office with a bunch of other people trying to break in. I figured you needed help, whatever was happening, so I snuck off and went through the access panel in Intelligence."
"Good, because I could use your assistance."
"I don't know that I'd be any good under the circumstances."
"Giles would probably have been a better choice, but other than him, you are the best trained in unarmed combat."
"If you say so, but wouldn't a gun be better?"
She gave her a level stare. "Could you shoot one of our colleagues?"
She flashed a sheepish smile. "Stupid question; sorry. One hour, huh? Where do we begin? How can we find out what happened?"
"The Princess already told me where I need to go: to the stables. What I need to do when I get there, however; all she said was, I'd know when I arrived."
"Fat lot of good that'll do us. Still, I guess it's a start. But how do we get out of the house? The office is blocked off, and it won't be long before they remember they can get in through here. When they find us gone, they'll fan out to look for us. Even if we can evade them inside, once outside they'll spot us for sure, and then they'll be after us like a pack of hounds!"
Differel picked a spotlight equipped with a high intensity discharge lamp from the equipment locker and flicked the switch to make sure it worked. "I know a way out that no one else knows about. If we can make it, they won't know where we went and they won't be able to follow." She glanced at the phantom clock. "But we have to leave now. We have only fifty-five minutes left, and it'll take time to reach our destination, plus we'll have to come nearly all the way back."
"I beg your pardon?"
She shook her head as she walked to the panel. "No time to explain. Just follow me, everything will become clear."
"If you say so."
From "A Little Hospitality"
Differel Van Helsing paused at a bend in the corniche road and looked west out over the valley behind her. The sun would set behind the mountains in another hour, making it too dark to travel, even considering the well-marked trail, though night would not fall for another hour after that. She had to find a place to camp, as unwelcome as that prospect felt. Hitching the pack higher up her shoulders, she pressed on.
It was her fourth night in the Dreamlands. It had taken her a week to travel from the town of Ulthar to her mansion in the city-state of Celephais. Once she had had a chance to clean up, change clothes, and have a bite to eat, she contacted the embassy for the island nation of Punica to inquire as to the whereabouts of her husband. Victor Edward Plunkett served as plenipotentiary ambassador to the Kingdom of Ooth-Nargai, of which Celephais was the capital, but he spent about half of his time on his estate in the Mark of Elissa, a group of a dozen islands over which he held seisin as a marquess. Unfortunately, he was absent from both places; Elishat, the Queen of the city-state of Karchedon w
hich ruled Punica, had sent him on a secret diplomatic mission and he wasn't expected to return for a fortnight, ten days at the earliest.
The road made a sharp turn into a tributary valley and terminated at the foot of a path that ran up the steep slope alongside a cascading stream. Looking ahead, she saw it led to a ridgeway high above. Though the path looked rugged, she figured the track on the ridgeline would be fairly straight and level. She paused again, but that time looked straight up. She could just barely make out a tiny dot in the cloudless azure sky. It was her faithful Wakiya, Eleanor d'Aquitaine. She smiled; Eleanor had become bound to her by an empathic link and followed her everywhere, soaring on thermals and currents in lazy, miles-wide circles, but never more than five minutes away in a dive. Looking down, she eyed the path, sighed, and planted her makila to steady herself as she started up.
She had spent her first full day in Celephais dealing with the concerns of her knighthood, her rank of lord marshal, and her position as heir presumptive to the throne of Ooth-Nargai, and the second occupied with the maintenance and financial matters of her mansion. Come the third, however, she had nothing to do and considered taking a walking tour. Fortunately, Kuranes, the king of Ooth-Nargai, needed to have some important decrees and missives delivered to various places along the Naraxa River, and she agreed to