"Cherry, don't you ever craft anything?"
Cherry blinked in surprise. Amarantha was not acting extraordinarily grateful. She had fixed Lebaton, and made it easier for Amarantha to converse with him and with Hermes. "No. Why should I? I haven't the patience for it. I never spend more that a couple of minutes on any one activity if I can find another activity to do."
Amarantha's eyes flickered and narrowed in thought. Still disgruntled at other failures, Cherry made a deliberate attempt to read her mind, suspecting that if Amarantha were concentrating on a single subject, she might have more success. She only caught a strongly hopeful 'wings,' that was continuous (although the type of wing changed too often for her to sense it,) and a few self-mocking 'obsession's. "Except for bringing me back to life."
Cherry smelled manipulation. She was not a complete idiot at politics; she just hated the lies and the manipulation, but she was skilled at detecting them and avoiding becoming entangled by them. Amarantha collapsed her legs (not entirely deliberately,) and sat on the ice, staring up at her with solidly hazel eyes and doodling in loose snow with one forefinger.
"Thank you," she added after a moment of thought, and looked down.
Feeling slightly confused and foolish, Cherry wondered if, maybe, she was becoming paranoid. No, remember the sly, foxy look, she chid herself. Cherry liked foxes. She cocked her head to one side uncomfortably. "Er . . . you're welcome." She scowled. "Raloz would have made me absolutely miserable if I'd left your body in the middle of this desert."
Amarantha's shoulders shook. After a moment, she looked up with twinkling, poison green eyes and a smile which made her chin seem even more pointed. "And what would you do to me if, while you were in the same room moreover, I were to inform Raloz that you loved him?"
Cherry choked.
Amarantha sniggered. "Don't worry. I won't. You could do with a little more humility, you know. I'll have to think of some way to embarrass you sufficiently. I just had the thought that I probably should warn you. Your personality needs improvement."
Cherry growled. "I advise against taking it upon yourself to adjust me! My humility is perfect for me."
Amarantha grimaced. "So think of some other aspect of yourself that you are dissatisfied with. I'm an artist. It's the strongest part of my own personality. I have to craft things over a period of time. Even if I get impatient with something, I come back to it. No matter how you feel about it, you were originally one of my creations, and I put a lot of time and effort into your development. Now, I'm coming back to you again. And I'm asking your opinion instead of sitting down with pencil and paper."
Cherry quivered with indignation. "All right, Amarantha . . . make me an artist, too," she jeered.
The hazel eyes widened. "Oh, but that's easy! An artist and a crafter. We shall start this instant. I'll keep reminding you to lean towards more patience until we're finished with your first lesson." She grinned. Cherry sat down across from her.
"O.K., teacher. Teach."
"By experimentation."
"What?"
Amarantha adjusted her position until her spine was perfectly straight and she seemed to be almost looking Cherry in the eye. "We shall proceed by having you craft something already created, under my direction if necessary."
Wings, Cherry remembered. "You? Amano and Oblivion, Amarantha, all you had to do was ask."
She smiled shyly in return. "But I wanted to make certain neither of us became distracted and left me with legs I didn't know how to use."
Cherry shook her head. "Your methods weren't appreciated. What do you want of me?"
"I only spoke the truth," Amarantha pointed out. "Let's start with wings. Mind, I have veto power. I had something of a cross between an albatross's wing and a hummingbird's wing in mind." Cherry nodded, raising her hand to gesture. "Stop!" shouted Amarantha.
"What?" Cherry jerked her hand to her chest, then lowered it to her knee. "Why?"
"Have you thought it over yet?" she demanded. "How will they be crossed, what shape, what size? How will they be attached to my body? Were you just going to think 'albatross,' and 'hummingbird,' and 'Amy,' and hope?" She frowned, shaking her head with a mentor's dismay, making Cherry feel three years old again, only worse, because she had not yet developed an immunity to the sting of passive punishment. "That is very bad planning, Cherry. When I'm done with you, you'll be able to beat Kolano at chess and Dylara playing by her rules. I want to see your ideas before you actually do anything to me. Draw them in the snow."
Cherry frowned back at Amarantha. She looked at the snow and drew a rough bird with her first finger. Above it, she saw the words in upside down English: 'Cherry gave Amy wings.' Cherry snorted, then redrew the wing portion below the bird. That was the typical folded wing. However, unfolded it was much longer. With an albatross, incredibly longer; it had a wingspan sixteen times its body length. An excellent soarer, the albatross barely needed to move to stay aloft. That was the part Amarantha wanted. She would also like the hummingbird's ability to beat her wings quickly, (although the air resistance was such that she would never be able to achieve the four to five thousand wing flaps per minute of an actual hummingbird,) and to fly backwards and upside down. Amarantha's wings should be the same shape as a hummingbird's, only elongated, and attached to Amarantha's body along a short, highly muscled edge, so that it could either move in rapid figure infinity patterns or hold themselves impeccably still. Cherry sketched a rough Amarantha and added hummingbird's wings, then began imitating Amarantha's annoying lecturing mode, pointing authoritatively at her illustrations.
"I'll grow the wings from you, out of your substance, so it will be your natural form, all right? You're too skinny . . . you'll have to grow shorter. The wings will be forty English feet apiece, so they'll be triply jointed here, and here, and here. That way they'll fold up at an angle and not stick out much. They'll go up from your body, then curve around and forward, overlapping themselves, until they're by your feet and a little in front, then they'll curve back again, overlapping and reaching above your head, then bend and fall straight down, although you'll have to be careful about letting the tips drag. See? There's also the added benefit that they can cover your entire body in layers. That way, they'll keep you warm the next time you're subject to exposure. They'll be furred, like an angel's wings, because you're deongrah, which is closer to mammalian than avian."
Amarantha smiled softly. "Grey fur?"
Cherry startled herself. "Um . . . no. I'm terrible with colors." Amarantha looked guilty. Wondering why, Cherry probed at her mind and found the usual whirl of thoughts that whizzed by too quickly to catch. Every time she seemed about to succeed, there would be a sudden surge in activity at highly irregular intervals. This was only augmented by a bit of electricity which fed itself. One of the flows of electricity she had used to bring Amarantha back to life had mutated somehow. Trying to figure out how, she discovered yet another thing which she could not do. This started her on a mental rant against all the unfair impossibilities in her life. "Colors," she muttered resentfully, thinking of the revenge she would take when she found who was responsible for that. Then she shook her head, realizing why Amarantha looked guilty, and wondered what a good punishment would be. "The fur will be blond or brown or both, the way you are already." She scuffed a depiction out, resketching it at several angles. This was much more fun than the drawing lessons her Uncle Jasper had forced her to take, centuries ago, but the lessons had come in useful from time to time. She was making Amarantha happy, which would incline her toward making Cherry happy with lots of ideas. "The fur will be long, but it won't grow beyond a certain length, and each individual follicle will be attached to several muscles, so you'll use the hair for altering direction. Is that enough planning to effect a change? Please, Amarantha, don't make me wait until I've decided everything, or I'll lose track."
Cherry caught that thought, even though she had not been looking for it. 'Do you think I can make you do anything?' She also saw, by Amarantha's eyes, that she knew what Cherry knew. "I bet I could, actually. At least, I could prevent you from doing anything to me. There are ways and ways. But probably it would be best for both of our patience's if you give me the wings right now." She swayed rhythmically, to a short beat, with excitement.
"Great!" Cherry brushed one hand across Amarantha's forehead, causing a temporary attachment to the ground so she wouldn't get dehydrated, and watched her shrink six inches while growing forty feet. Amarantha moved the flatly serpentine extensions with a look of awe.
"Wings . . ." She folded them awkwardly, then unfolded them and made little whirlwinds by beating them together behind her, as she stretched her neck. Cherry decided to add a couple more bones to Amarantha's neck, maybe even seven more, and let her turn her head all the way around. She sketched a quick note in the snow. "I . . . I . . . Can I fly now?" she demanded, feeling the point where another pair of shoulder blades, just below the first met the first upward joint.
"Start practicing!" Cherry encouraged.
"Thank you!" She stumbled to her feet, and nearly fell again as her weakness overcame her, but a couple of wing beats, and her balance was well. Amarantha beamed brilliantly, folding her wings at different angles, making a circle with them over her head, running and flapping and making leaps, extending her usual span by ten times just allowing the wind to pick her up.
While Amarantha played, Cherry drew. Starting from the top down, she redrew Amarantha's head, her brain, her skull structure, her eyes, and her ears. She was just finishing all the ideas with the nose when Amarantha sat down in front of her again, eyes sparkling, but not entirely satisfied.
"Well . . ." Amarantha began.
"Is that artistic enough for you?" Cherry demanded.
"Oh, yes, you look like you thought about it at least a little. These wings . . ."
"What else do you want changed?" she interrupted, and Amarantha looked startled.
"Else? Well . . . everything? Let me think . . . I had some ideas once, but I was so busy in college, and since then, things have been changing rather rapidly . . ."
"Do you want to be pretty? That's traditional, isn't it?"
"No!"
Cherry stared at Amarantha. The shock seemed genuine. She poked at her mind and found only the usual whirlwind of thoughts emanating. "You're a human who doesn't want to be physically attractive."
"I'd really rather not. I'd rather be ugly than pretty." Amarantha's eyes searched anxiously.
"All right . . . what ideas did you have?" she asked carefully, wondering if she was going to have her invalid bolt again.
"Oh . . . this and that." She jumped to her feet, stumbled a few steps along the snow, and collapsed again, drawing her wings close around her. "It's cold," she exclaimed. "Why is it cold?" Cherry walked over to her and tried to read her thoughts on her face. "Nines," she murmured, "lots of nines. Seven fingers and two thumbs on either side of the hand make nine. Two wings, and four arms, and two legs, and a prehensile tail make nine. A hand for each arm and leg makes two thirds of nine."
"How about nine bones for your neck and a tongue nine units long?" Cherry suggested, deciding that the current madness was not suicidal.
"It is nine units long. It just depends on the units."
Cherry shrugged. "All right. For extra limbs, we redesign the spine."
"Very good," she whispered, and curled up on herself. "The knees must bend backwards and side to side. Nine digits to each hands. Two opposable thumbs and a prehensile tail and thumb. Skull extended down the neck so the brain can be moved a bit lower, so I can have a spinning mechanism in my head. Two spinnerettes, like a spiders, make thick cord that is either sticky or not sticky. They can be used as horns, too. They're triply pronged. Can you remember all that?"
"Easily." Cherry drew pictures rapidly. "I know anatomy, Amy. It comes of all those shape changes."
"Very good. A scientist. Scientists must be artists . . . they both need . . . an imagination . . ." She yawned. Cherry reached out to feel her pulse again, then supplied another surge of artificial warmth. Amarantha startled out of a dream and looked around. "What happened?"
"You're just trying to freeze to death again."
"I was not! Is that what Jenny said? I'll . . ." Amarantha blinked and looked around the white plain. "Oh! I'm sorry. I think . . . I must have been ever so slightly distracted."
Cherry smiled. "We were talking about changing your shape. Now, let's see one of the hands you have now." She grabbed Amarantha's wrist. Amarantha snatched it back. Cherry frowned. "All right, you look at it. Tell me what you think." She cautiously raised one hand, ready to make the gesture that would enforce the change.
Amarantha stared at her hand briefly, then glanced quizzically at Cherry. "I have long life, heart, and head lines in braided pattern, and a fine structure of lines crossing each. I forget what that means, other than I'll lead a relatively eventful life."
Cherry scowled. "Look again. Longer, this time." Amarantha studied it for a long time without blinking, and Cherry began to grow impatient. She finally adjusted the membrane of Amarantha's eyes to need more water. Then she closed her eyes briefly to rest them, and Cherry made a different gesture. When Amarantha looked again, she had an extra thumb on the other side of her hand along with three additional fingers before her little finger. The palm itself was much wider. Amarantha blinked again, staring harder. She wiggled her fingers. Two of the new ones would not cooperate much. "Same with your other hand, and your feet?" Cherry inquired slyly.
"Yes!" Amarantha exclaimed in wonder.
She waved her hand, and it was so. This was more fun than drawing in the snow. Cherry moved the wings higher and added another pair of arms below them. She let the major joints all be as mobile as shoulders. She adjusted the brain so that it could deal with all the new muscles easily, then moved it lower, drawing the entire skull along the neck a few inches. Then she doubled the number of neck bones, so that the head could turn itself nearly entirely around. In creating the thread-making mechanism and triply-pronged spinnerettes, Cherry had the bright idea of making those horns extremely sharp and ever so slightly venomous. Amarantha herself would be immune to this particular poison.
"Retractable claws?" Amarantha suggested shyly.
"Fine!" said Cherry, and put retractable claws on each finger and thumb, and arranged so the spinnerette-horns went in and out at least a little. She created a monkey's tail at the base of Amarantha's spine, which lashed and curled experimentally. Amarantha waved and moved all these new elements of her body in wonder. Cherry fixed her eyesight. Amarantha blinked, trying to move a hand to her face, then shook her head rapidly until her glasses fell off. She lifted her left arms and stared at them, releasing and retracting eighteen brown claws with a nicely wicked sparkle at the points. Amarantha beamed. Cherry beamed. "Anything else you want?" she asked.
"Oh! Um . . . yes, but I can't think . . . that prehensile tongue you mentioned might come in useful for it . . . oh, yes! Stretch my mouth and nose into a deer's nose. I don't really care which species. Lengthen my jaw the width of . . . oh . . . three more canines behind each of the first four, and if it's not too much trouble, grow back my wisdom teeth. They were taken from me."
Cherry flicked her fingers at Amarantha's skull, and there was a long muzzle with a soft, curly brown pelt. When she spoke, a slightly carnivoristic aspect came upon her. Cherry assumed that was what Amarantha intended. "Pretty good. You are definitely no longer human."
"If I ever was," she inserted hurriedly. Then Amarantha smiled benignly. "You were one of my creations. Now, I'm the first one of yours." She cast a swift glance over Antarctica. "Cherry, I'm really kind of cold. Can we go home now?"
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