She made a big metal pot and filled it with conjured water. The Yellow Glamor, who had carried Weft, made a magic fire under the pot. Gale could have done it, but courtesy required her to leave it to the Glamor of Fire. She piled vegetables into the pot so that they would cook, and started in on making bread by a similar process.
Actually little of this was truly necessary, because Glamors could feed themselves, and perhaps did not even need to eat. As king and queen, they had had to eat regularly and often publicly, concealing their Glamor natures, and hadn't had occasion to experiment with fasting. They didn't dare experiment on the children. But probably they could last a long time, perhaps indefinitely, without food. Still, it seemed best to maintain the forms, and foster a communal attitude. Certainly the mortals needed food.
As evening came, all the Glamors and their companions returned. The women came to help with the preparations for the meal, and the men set about making a shelter suitable for a group of this size and diversity. Soon they had what resembled a wayside inn, with several rooms and a central plaza. There was a big round table and chairs for all who wanted them. Regardless, there were places for all twenty three physical members of the party, human, animal, and child.
Dinner was served. Gale and Symbol tended to three of the children while Voila slept contentedly in a sling Gale wore. The Red and Blue Glamors assumed rather sexy serving girl outfits and brought plates to the others, leaning far forward when serving the men. The Yellow Glamor assumed the form of whatever animal Glamor she was serving, bringing appropriate dishes: a huge twitching fly for the silver spider, a bucket of grain for the white goat, a salad of berries and buzzing insects for the gray bird, a pile of scorched rabbits for the brown dragon, and what looked like writhing sand for the orange sphinx. All of them had flagons of multi-colored wine and free access to assorted forms of bread.
The Glamors ate and drank, and as the meal progressed became tipsily convivial, though of course wine had no such effect on them. Several showed off for the children, who were fascinated. The Black Glamor, always the most formal entity, opened his mouth impossibly wide and issued a resounding burp that floated up and away as a small black cloud. The white goat grew several extra horns, extended his tongue until it wrapped around the largest one, and pulled it off, to be drawn into the mouth and chewed up. A big translucent fish swam over the head of the Translucent Glamor, darted down to snap at Warp's nose, missed, and swelled so much in disgust it finally exploded and disappeared. The children were thrilled.
Then the center of the table was cleared, and Futility got up on it, garbed in a dress with a low décolletage and high cut skirt. Gale brought out her hammer dulcimer and played a merry melody. Havoc produced his dragon scale to accompany her. Futility danced, at first sedately, then with increasing abandon, kicking her legs high. Glamors they might be, long experienced in sexual relations, but every man watched with full attention.
“She goes for the night to the one she's closest to when the music stops,” Havoc announced, waving his wine so that it almost slopped. Privately he signaled Gale when to stop, holding it for the right moment.
When the entertainment was beginning to pall, Havoc gave the signal, and both of them stopped the music. Futility flung herself right off the table at the closest human male, landing in the Translucent Glamor's lap. He stood, holding her, and carried her into his assigned chamber.
“Pawning her off on another Glamor?” Gale inquired as they cleaned up the remnants of the meal.
“With Translucent's agreement,” he said. “He lacks a woman at present, and she's shapely."
“That means you'll be after Symbol and me again."
“Affirmation."
She sighed. “It's a cross we'll just have to bear."
“Well, there's Ini."
“She's nighting with the Air Glamor, being of his Chroma."
“Then Aura."
“She's with the Green Glamor."
“Not with Augur?"
“He's with the Red Glamor, of course."
“Maybe I can catch Symbol briefly."
“As you did last time? She's occupied."
“Oh? With whom?"
“With the children, while we relate.” She took his hand, and guided him to a private spot she had located in the day while seeking a suitable site for human wastes. She had made a bower and lined it with fresh straw, shielded from general view.
“Oh, Gale,” he said, dropping the banter as they made love. “I would give up the crown and Glamor status, just to spend forever with you."
“I know it. I feel the same."
“Maybe once all this is done."
“It will never all be done."
Now he sighed. “But it becomes bearable, with you."
She clasped him closely, sharing his emotion. “When we were children, we wondered whether we understood love. In retrospect, I think we did."
“Agreement. I never loved you more than then, and want never to love you less."
They lay for a while, clasped. “Have we climaxed yet?” she asked rhetorically.
“Do we have to?"
“It's customary, when we're as close as this.” For he was throbbing inside her, and she was stroking him externally and internally. As Glamors they had control, and could climax many times in rapid succession, or go through the motions without climaxing at all. Normally they took turns: one would climax, while the other shared the sensation telepathically. That enabled them to get the most from it.
“But then we'll have to separate and resume normal life."
“We'll have to do so soon regardless. Voila is getting restive.” She was in constant mental touch with their daughter.
“Then so it must be. Your turn."
She moved immediately into her climax, milking his hard member, kissing his mouth and face, caressing his flanks, her mind and passion completely open to him so that he could follow her appreciation of him. Her culmination was normally longer and less intense than his, more of a superlative loving than a release, and she knew he enjoyed it as much as his own. By similar token she enjoyed his urgent jetting; telepathy enabled her to truly appreciate the male response. But this time she slowly drew his essence from him, cherishing it, and then they sank into the declining rapture of the aftermath. It didn't matter, ultimately, how they did it, as long as they were together.
“Now we have the physical capacity to extend it indefinitely,” he said. “But not the situation."
She knew it. Their dreams of endless rapture were futile, but she wouldn't have it otherwise.
Then Voila's summoning became more urgent, and they had to end it. But it had been wonderful taking this brief time together.
“Agreement,” he said as they separated and prepared to return.
“Do try to give Symbol more time,” she said. “She loves you."
“Sex I can share. You preempted my love."
“Apology,” she said, kissing him with as much passion as others might have before the climax.
Then they returned to the camp and resumed family duties.
Next day Havoc and the male human Glamors took Ini and Futility to the region marked on the tapestry. They joked that it was to be one big sexual liaison, and perhaps there would be some of that, but their underlying purpose was serious. The truth was that Ini's passion was knowledge, and Futility's was dancing, but both could handle sex, and sex with a Glamor was something special. So they would not be loath, but there was plenty else to do.
Augur and Aura, watched by the Red and Blue Glamors, went out to explore the nearest Red and Blue Chroma zones, to ascertain whether they were the same as those on Charm. If they were, then the two of them would have their magic power back, in those zones.
Gale and Symbol explored the camp area in detail with the children, while the Yellow Glamor faded out of sight, watching. The children were Glamors, but this was an alien planet, and the young ones were likely to be the most vulnerable to mischief. In general, the gua
rdian Glamors stayed invisible, so that possible predators would not know of their presence until committed. It was deemed best not only to avoid trouble, but to discover danger that might lurk for the unwary.
The animal Glamors continued the wider exploration of the planet. None of them knew exactly what they might find, so they were checking everything.
Gale paid special attention to the mosses and lichen, her constituency. They were of different varieties than those of Charm, but essentially similar; she related to them well. She was sure Havoc was relating similarly to the trees.
The children, too, were relating. Warp was fascinated by fungus, Weft was eager to wade in a stagnant pool surely thick with bacteria, and Flame was sniffing for viruses. Gale wasn't worried about any of them getting ill; they were proof against that, both because they were Glamors, and because of their specialties. So it didn't hurt to let them explore in the manner they preferred.
But Glamors or not, they were young children. At mid morning Gale called a temporary halt. “Time for snack and rest,” she announced. “Get out of all that dirt, clean off, and gather around me."
“Awww,” the three chorused. Voila was too young to make a similar protest, but she looked as if she wanted to.
They snacked on puddings and milk, then settled on the straw that Symbol gathered and spread. But they were rebellious; they didn't want to nap, though they needed it.
“I'll show an illusion,” Symbol said.
That got their attention; they loved the illusion shows. In a moment it formed in the center of their circle, a three dimensional animation of a children's story.
The inevitable announcer came on. “This is the story of the little ifrit,” he said. “An ifrit is one of the demonic beings, related to the afreets, the djinni, and the jann. They can dissolve into smoke, jump instantly to a far place, and reform as a solid human being, animal or object. Some become thunderstorms, others sexy maidens.” As he spoke a storm appeared in the background, rumbling ominously, followed by a shapely young woman in harem clothing.
The children were now hidden, covered by the illusion, but Gale knew they were smiling. Even at a year and a half, they liked violence and sex, because these always led quickly to dramatic complications in stories.
The Little Ifrit, it turned out, was lonely. His name was Ifor, and he appeared as a towheaded little boy in shorts. The bigger ifrits refused to play with him, because he could not jump as far as they could, or form as big a man shape, and he didn't like doing evil mischief. They became animated scimitars and menaced passing mortal folk; Ifor was sorry for the threatened folk. They became giant squishy pies and hurled themselves into the faces of housewives carrying laundry; Ifor wanted to help the poor women clean it off. The larger female ifrits liked to assume the forms of lovely nude young human women and lead mortal men into attempted liaisons. Then they would dissipate in smoke, laughing. Ifor hated that kind of teasing. So he was walking by himself.
Then he heard something. It was someone crying, a mortal child by the sound of it. He fuzzed into a cloud and scudded rapidly toward the sound. Yes, it was a little human mortal girl, about six years old. She was sitting under a spreading umbrella tree and bawling.
Ifor floated near, checking the situation. The cause of the girl's misery was soon apparent: she held a decapitated doll. Some cruel boy, or maybe an ifrit, had torn the head off it. Obviously it was her only possession, and she was heartbroken.
Soon Ifor was crying too, which was a very un-ifrit thing to do. He couldn't help it; he felt the girl's sorrow. He wanted to help, but wasn't sure how. He looked for the missing head, but all he found was a thin trail of sawdust stuffing. The neck of the doll had leaked as she carried it. The head must have been destroyed.
Then Ifor had an idea. It wasn't a great idea, because he wasn't big enough for that, but it was credible considering his size. He formed himself into a doll just like the one the girl carried. But he didn't know what the head was supposed to look like. So after a moment's consideration, he copied the head of the girl herself, with her pert nose, blue eyes, and flouncing yellow curls. It was a cute head, and would do for the doll. Then he laid himself down before the girl and waited.
After a time she ran low on tears and looked about. She saw the doll. Her mouth dropped open. Then she dropped the corpse of the old doll and picked up the new one. “You are lovely!” she exclaimed. “I love you.” Forthwith she took the new doll home with her, much cheered.
It turned out she was a fourth, with three big brothers. “What's this Blondie's got?” one demanded. He snatched the doll away from her. “She must have stolen it."
Blondie resumed crying. The boys smiled, satisfied. Now it was apparent what had happened to the old doll. The mean brothers had ruined it, just to make Blondie cry.
Ifor acted before he thought. Had he been bigger he might have had more restraint. He twisted in the boy's grasp, put his face to the boy's thumb, and bit.
“Ow!” the boy cried, dropping the doll.
Now the other boys were interested. “What kind of doll is that?” one asked.
“Who cares? Step on it."
A boy raised his foot to do that, but Ifor quickly scrambled out of the way.
“It's alive!” another brother exclaimed, amazed.
“A living doll!” The oldest brother turned on Blondie. “Where'd you get this, you little girl dog?"
Gale had to smile. They had rendered the term into a child-appropriate form.
“I just found her,” Blondie said. “She was lying in the dirt in front of me."
“A likely story! Now tell the truth, or I'll twist your head off like I twisted the doll's."
There was confirmation. As the brute boy reached for the girl, Ifor knew he had to stop this immediately, whatever it took. So he marshaled his magic and swelled into a big crude shape.
“I am the ghost of the doll you killed!” he roared in the boy's face. “And if you ever make Blondie cry again, I'll twist your head off and dump it in the soup. Then I'll turn the rest of you into another doll for your brothers to rip apart. A girl doll!"
That did it. The boys fled, thoroughly cowed.
Ifor shrank back into doll form. “I'm sorry you had to see that,” he said. “But those boys are just too mean."
Blondie picked him up. “That's okay. I love to see them scared. But I guess you're not really a doll."
“Agreement."
“So I can't keep you."
“Apology.” He felt very bad about it.
“What are you, really?"
“I'm an ifrit."
“An ifrit! But they're big bad scary evil demons!"
“Most are,” he agreed, ashamed. “I'm too little to qualify."
“I'm little too!” she said. “Maybe we can be friends."
He had never thought of that. “Let's try it and see what happens."
So they introduced each other. “I'm Blondie Baby Girl."
“I'm Ifor Ifrit."
“Could you really twist off Big Brother's head?"
“Negation,” he confessed. “I'm not solid enough in the big scary form."
“But he doesn't know that.” She tittered. “Let's not tell him."
So they were friends, and it worked. Blondie had a companion instead of a doll, and Ifor had a companion too. Every so often he made an appearance in the boys’ bedroom to terrorize them again, so they would not get cocky. He discovered that he could indeed be a big bad scary evil demon when there was good reason for it.
The years passed, and both Ifor and Blondie grew older apace. In time he became a full-grown ifrit, and she became a beautiful woman, so of course they fell in love.
The announcer reappeared. “But that's another story. Tune in for that when you are grown.” He faded out and the illusion ended.
“Yuck!” Warp cried. “With a girl?"
“What's wrong with a girl?” Weft demanded dangerously. She was verbally precocious, and could talk circles around her br
other when she chose to, which was usually.
Symbol glanced at Gale. “Maybe it's time to resume exploration?"
Gale agreed. Usually the children fell asleep during the illusion shows, but this one had caught their attention, though surely for the wrong reasons. They weren't going to nap now. That was bound to result in early crankiness, but it couldn't be helped.
They got moving again. They were following a nonChroma corridor between a Brown Chroma zone and a Silver Chroma zone. On Charm, Brown was the magic of golems and silver the magic of electricity, but there was no certainty that the same held true here on Counter Charm. Theoretically any Chroma could enable any kind of magic, and the alignments might differ here. That was one reason to stay out of Chroma until they had a better notion of the potentials.
“Pause,” Symbol murmured.
Gale and the children stopped. They looked where Symbol was looking. Something was moving on the Brown side. It looked like a low-lying cloud, one of the kind they had seen scattered around. This one came to the edge of the Chroma zone and shrank. It drew into itself, getting much smaller, and a brown blob formed. This was a new phenomenon, and it interested the children as much as it did the adults.
Soon the cloud had disappeared into the blob. Then the blob rolled into the nonChroma zone, right ahead of the human party. It went down a slight incline—then rolled up a slight incline to the other side. It reached the Silver Chroma side and entered it.
Gale exchanged a glance with Symbol. This was curious indeed.
But it wasn't over. The brown blob paused at the edge of the Silver zone. It fuzzed, and vapor rose from it. The vapor expanded while the blob shrank. It was turning back into a cloud!
They watched, fascinated, as a brown cloud the size it had started spread into the Silver zone. But it did not float away. It remained in place, slowly fading. The brown lightened, and then turned silver. The thing had changed Chroma affiliations!
“Ifrit!” Weft cried.
And that was as good a term as any. A smoky thing that could coalesce to a smaller solid when it needed to, and return to the diffuse form later.