Chapter 2

Sound carries oddly in a forest, and I had to correct my bearing a couple of times. Still, I was running impossibly fast - like, easily fifty miles an hour - so it didn't even take me a minute to get there, especially since I was running above any foliage that would impede movement. The scene of battle was just as unbelievable as the rest of ... well, everything.

A pair of gigantic, winged owl-headed bears - colloquially known as, yes, you guessed it, owlbears, though the wings were a surprise - were trying to get at an archer, a literal gods-bedamned satyr! With furred goat legs, curling ram-horns jutting out openly above his forehead, and a devilish, rakish grin on his face as he outmaneuvered the owlbears yet again, picking a path that by all rights should be impassable. It would have been for him too, if the plants didn't bend out of his way. There was no such courtesy displayed for the owlbears, truly intimidating gigantic specimen, I noted with heart pounding in my chest, who displayed atrocious manners, screeching loudly and trampling the vegetation to make their way through, since the trees were too thick for them to spread their wings - as they acquired more arrows to add to that patented-pincushion look. Really, it's all the rage!

I didn't shout to announce my presence. I mean really, I'm a kensai, not a paladin. No compunctions about striking from behind, however nice and lovey-dovey I may otherwise be. Again, the sudden realization of what I was would have had the old me falling all over his feet in surprise, especially when moving at hazardous speeds. The new me? The trajectory calculations were perfect, and I came to a halt just behind the monstrosities as they stopped to claw at and shake a thick trunk and bring down the pest who'd climbed the tree and stood just out of their reach. I released my ki focus into Sister in a willful instant, breathing fire, speed, the cold might of order, lightning and thunder into her, before going all righteous on the poor, towering, benighted monstrosities.

Thank goodness for my instincts, which allowed me to dodge the gouts of blood. Every last stroke - and I was like a hummingbird on steroids - struck true and deep, guided and reinforced by ki rather than brute strength I didn't really have. For all that, those beasts were tough, built like mountains on the small side - mobile hills, let us say. I managed to totally slaughter one, but got only one deep thrust against the second before it turned to face me with a roar, no longer flatfooted - I had turned visible on the first blow, of course. It mattered not at all - I had absolutely no trouble dodging its swipes, following when it attempted to build up some distance and make use of its much greater reach, Sister reshaping herself in mid-blow, lengthening considerably to allow me greater reach and leverage, extending into a longspear and stinging it deeply. Another hummingbird frenzy stick and poke dance, and the second one fell with a really loud crash. The rain of arrows from above struck naught but a corpse. If that's what combat is all about, perhaps I don't have that much to fear, I mused - in very sincere and prayerful hope-mode. I didn't really need - or want - the <It won't always be this easy> warning from darling Sis.

I felt like I should be breathing hard, wiping sweat away, drained by the exertion - but this new me was made of tougher and considerably hardier stuff, if only because of the magical belt. I was fresh as a daisy, bright eyed, bushy-tailed (if not literally, thank goodness) and neutral scented. It struck me that I couldn't wear perfume with the necklace on, and I bit my lower lip hard to keep from laughing at the incongruous realization. With a small flourish, I put Sis away in my belt, as she shrunk to wand-size, and turned to look at the ... being ... I'd presumably rescued. For all I knew, he could have managed perfectly well on his own. I didn't have to wait for long.

He slithered down the tree like he was making love to it, somehow obscenely. It was difficult to estimate, but I guessed he was six feet or a bit more - over a head taller than the new shorter me, by half a foot or so. I felt a brief surge of resentment - couldn't I get some height to go with all the kick-ass?

He was also disgustingly good looking. I mean, the jacket and glinting mithril mail shirt he wore below it could not hide the absolutely incredible musculature, the sort professional bodybuilders would stare at in green envy. Oh, not just because he was obscenely muscular, more built than any of them - it was that those light brown marble-carved glutes and pectorals looked so good on him. And yes, everything about him, from wicked smile and warm eyes to every last fluid step, screamed perversion, was absolutely flooded with sexual innuendo that was obscenely overt. I didn't find males attractive, but I couldn't keep from staring at that ass, the incredibly solid chest, the oh so thick arms. It was quite the spectacle, and it kept me dumb, cheeks slightly flushed and a bit warm all over, tingles in my tummy and places lower.

His voice was just as warm as my innards were becoming, almost dripping with honey as he leaned down and kissed my hand, luscious lips so thick, hot and soft, "Gracious lady, my most sincere regard! That might just be the finest display of martial skill I've seen in centuries!"

The hot touch of his skin against mine was like a shock of electricity, enough of one to allow me to regain the power of speech and a measure of composure. Since he was using knightly-type language, I responded in similar flowery fashion, "It was my great pleasure to be of aid, siree. You flatter overmuch," I shrugged, "those beasts required little skill to dispatch."

"I beg to differ," he looked down at me with a quirky smile, "for her Fey Majesty posted a significant reward for their death, and sent her personal huntmaster when none claimed it for a full month," he gave me a courtly bow that had me biting my lower lip, hard, to keep from flaming into a full body blush. "Many assayed an attempt, I assure you! Herself owes us both a boon," he wriggled his eyebrows at me, laughing eyes somehow telling me that I'd already joined his conspiracy to convince her Fey Majesty that we'd both done the deed and were owed a reward.

It could hardly be a coincidence that I met a guide to what was presumably the nymph queen the Mission Impossible note referred to first thing. I was all too obviously being railroaded. It wasn't like I had a good alternative, though the idea of spending much time in this satyr's presence made me nervous ... and made my sex clench in anticipation. It was humiliating, the way this body was betraying me by reacting to this avatar of masculinity. Perhaps my mind too, the same way it had flooded me with knowledge. The thought that my mind was not my fully my own made me shudder for a moment, as if my veins were filled with ice-cold water.

"I'd be pleased to claim the reward," I responded coolly, making it quite clear that sharing was out of the question. That was my opening bargaining position, at least.

"Of course, we require proof of our achievement," he stuck to his guns. "If you would keep watch, I will handle that. Claws, teeth and valuable pelt rugs. Arrows and a spear point make it so much easier to repair damage than axes, swords and spell fire," he nodded appreciatively at me and I tried hard to avoid blushing, managing not to lower my eyes by dint of pure iron will. Damn, on Earth the guy would have been kidnapped and press-ganged into Hollywood or a modelling contract in minutes, his smile was a dangerous weapon. Possibly porn, if the rest was up to snuff. I blinked several times to make that image go away.

"Of course," I said shortly, trying to get a better hold of those damned hormones. I hadn't been this horny as a guy, it was ridiculous. If this was what a satyr did to me, would a nymph make me lose all inhibitions?

Keeping watch meant not looking at him, which was a bit of a relief. I only snuck a few glances now and then to check on his activity and ogle his ass. The skinning business looked very disgusting.

"Their meat is rather vile," the satyr commented when he caught my eye, which made me realize that we'd somehow failed to introduce ourselves, except for his imparting that he was this fey queen's huntmaster, or huntsman ... or should that be huntsfey? I suddenly counted myself extremely fortunate that one of my powers was the ability to speak any language. The thought of appearing in a strange world without being able to communicate was absolutely shuddersome.

He'd obviously come prepared, soaking some sort of odiferous, viscous mixture into the pelts, presumably a preservative, and folded the huge expanses into squares that he dropped into an otherwise empty bag of holding.

"Now I must bathe, lest we attract more predators on our way to claim our reward," he announced rather than asked, and I wasn't inclined to argue. He was spattered with blood, coated up to his elbows, it was quite offputting. If I'd been a sorceress or a wizardess, I could have cleaned the mess with a minor cantrip, I sniffed in regret. Having real magic at my fingertips would have been incredibly cool. My ki abilities were somewhat limited and distinctly unshowy, well, other than in that wushu kung-fu way.

I did manage to introduce myself on the way to water, marvelling at how he moved so easily through the dense growth, "I am Aynara Keynan."

Of course, he had to be a ranger, and that was one of their mystical abilities. It allowed him to keep up with me, as I chose not to display my ability to walk on air.

"And I am Indomyr, fair lady, the Fey Queen's Huntmaster."

That was an obvious invitation to tell him more about myself, which I chose to politely ignore. We didn't quite run, but reaching a bathing facility required almost an hour's quick-march, and left me quietly impressed with our endurance. The old me would have keeled over after twenty minutes at a tenth of the speed, and that long only because of stubborn pride.

"Tell me of your queen," I asked, and was soon regaled with stories of her beauty, generosity and might. Her Fey Majesty was a nymph, as I'd more than half expected, and guarded a doorway to the First World, the realm of the fey, in the very same forest where Fafnheir supposedly lurked. Another non-coincidence, most likely, and it meant that I'd somehow been drawn into Golarion, the forest of Grungir in the far cold north of the Avistan continent. That I was tasked with gathering a mirror shard meant that there were more than just the one, and that I was to meet the other questors in Absalom, the city in the center of the world. Of course, reassembling this mirror was probably the only way for something very powerful to escape a prison - and either kill us or reward us. Naturally, there would be great forces arrayed against the effort, trying to persuade us that it would unleash a great evil, as its cultists supported our efforts clandestinely. That's how all the good stories went.

I was still pondering possible ramifications and trying to decide what I should actually do when we reached the bathing pool, a lovely natural place that seemed to sparkle with purity and beauty. I was a city girl ... okay, I'd been a city boy, but I could appreciate the beauty of nature without loving it. It struck me with painful suddenness, the aching loss of modern conveniences. I let the little oasis distract me from melancholy, looking at the healthy green moss spread on dark weathered stone, trees shading the small clearing, listening to the sound of water cascading down a small fall echoing against the chirping of birds and buzzing of insects, enjoying the fragrance of the place. This forest was incredibly vital and alive and the water looked inviting.