Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

turned his back on Argent, and looked thoughtfully at Count Roderik. 'This glamour spell that's going to make me look like Viktor; can it be removed easily when the job's finished?'
    'Of course,' said Roderik. 'But now, my dear fellow, we are in something of a hurry. It will take us at least a week's hard travelling to reach Castle Midnight, and the rituals are due to begin shortly after that.
    I'm afraid we must insist on knowing your answer now.'
    Ten thousand ducats . . . maybe more ... a chance to start over again . . . a role that could be a real challenge . . . there's got to be a catch but I don't give a damn.
    'I'm your man,' said Jordan. 'We can leave as soon as I've brought fresh provisions.'
    'We already have everything you'll need,' said Argent. 'Roderik, start the spell. We've wasted enough time in this filthy hole.'
    'Wait just a minute,' said Jordan quickly. 'You want to cast the glamour spell right here and now? Where everyone can see us?'
    'No one will see us in this light,' said Roderik, 'and the sooner you get used to moving and acting like Prince Viktor, the better. The spell is quick and quite painless, I assure you. There's nothing at all to worry about.'
    Jordanlooked suspiciously at Roderik. There's nothing to worry about was the kind of thing the travelling dentist said as he knelt on your chest and poked his pliers into your mouth. But he couldn't argue. He'd agreed to take on the role, and the spell was a necessary part of it. He'd just thought he'd get a bit more warning . . .
    Roderik tookJordan's silence for assent, and raised his left hand. He frowned, and muttered something under his breath.Jordanstrained his ears to try and catch the quiet words, but the few he caught were in a language he didn't recognise. They sounded harsh and grating and somehow . . . disturbing, andJordan suddenly wondered if perhaps he'd made a mistake after all. Count Roderik fell silent, and made a sharp, twisting motion with his left hand.Jordangasped, startled, as his skin suddenly began to itch and creep.
    His face twitched convul-sively. He started to lift his hands to his face, and found he couldn't. His whole body had locked solidly in place. He couldn't even blink his eyes. He struggled furiously, to no avail, and then his anger gave way to panic as the first changes began. His bones creaked and groaned. His flesh shuddered, rising and falling like a series of ripples on the surface of a pond. He tried to move or run or scream, and couldn't. His panic rose another notch when he found his breathing was becoming increasingly shallow. Sweat poured off him. His vertebrae popped one after the other as his back stretched, giving him an extra two inches in height. His fingers tingled painfully as his hands grew long and slender. New cords of muscle crawled along his chest and arms and back. His legs grew thick and sturdy. His face trembled as his features lost definition and then grew firm again in a new shape. And as suddenly as it had begun, the paralysis was gone, and his flesh grew still again.
    Jordanswayed on his feet, and Sir Gawaine was quickly there at his side.Jordanclung to the knight's arm as his head slowly cleared, and his harsh breathing gradually returned to normal. He finally straightened up, and let go of Gawaine's arm. He gave Gawaine a quick grateful nod, and then stared in something like horror at his hands. He lifted them up before his face and looked at them, turning them back and forth before him. They weren't his hands. The length and shape and shade were wrong. But the fingers flexed obediently at his command, and he could feel the cool of the evening moving over them. He lowered his hands and looked down at his body. His clothes no longer fitted him. He was taller now, and his arms and legs were longer. His shirt was tightly stretched across his new chest and shoulders, and his belt hung loosely about his flatter stomach.Jordanfelt a brief surge of vertigo as his mind refused to accept the new body it found itself in, and then the feeling died away as he brought it under control.
    Jordanwas used to being different people at different times. He was an actor. He looked at Count Roderik, who bowed formally.
    'Your highness. Would you like to see a mirror?'
    Jordannodded dumbly. Argent produced a small handmirror from a pocket in his cloak, and handed it to Jordan.
    The face in the glass was traditionally handsome, in a dark, saturnine way. The jet-black hair was thick and wavy, and