"You are still almost exactly nine feet tall," Cait says, rerolling the measuring tape and hopping off the chair she'd climbed onto to reach my head. There had been some concern that I would continue to grow. Neither of us can figure out why, if I had taken the troll's height, I'm only nine feet as opposed to the troll's twelve.
I'm largely ignoring her moving around me, though. I'm distracted by a sheaf of papers, the results of an analysis Script on myself, in one hand and a sandwich in the other. I've found that about five full meals a day keeps me running without issue. It's a lot of food, and I'll probably need to do something about it eventually, but it's workable for the moment.
"Have you figured out what happened yet?" Cait asked, apparently tired of being ignored.
I sigh through my nose and swallow, "I don't know enough about medicine to know everything that's happened to me. I know my bones and muscles are extremely dense, and no longer even remotely human. Probably a lot of other things that I don't know enough to spot. My theory is that somewhere in the back of my head, a troll's size was an essential contributor to its strength. So when I focused on the trait I wanted, I got everything that I thought made it up, too."
I start to sit, then stop myself. In addition to being nine feet tall I weigh considerably more than any of Cait's chair's load tolerance. I've already broken three without thinking, and Cait has promised me that if I break another she won't feed me any more until I replace them.
On an unrelated note, the floors of Cait's book shop are quite comfortable.
"So you got huge," Cait said, looking at me, hands on her hips.
"So I got huge," I agree. "So when are you going to answer my question?"
"What question?" Cait actually sounds like she has no idea what I'm talking about, in spite of the fact that I've already repeated the question three times in the last several days it's taken my arm to heal.
"Why did a Sidhe of the Tuatha De Denan want to know where you are so badly they'd try to scramble my brains to find out? And why were they so sure that I'm an agent of yours?"
"To be fair, you're human and have nothing that would make them hesitate. A Sidhe would try to enslave you to get a bucket of water. Humans have very little value to them," Cait points out. "So what's your next step?"
I glare at her. The expression might have lost some of its impact from the sandwich in my mouth, though. "You're not going to answer the question, are you?" I grumble.
Cait smiles at me. Stretching onto her toes, she bumps my forehead with hers before rubbing her cheek against mine, "No, Kitten, not yet. Hopefully not ever." She finishes quietly enough that if I hadn't enhanced my hearing I wouldn't have heard it. After a moment, during which my glare never falters even if I do keep eating, she sighs, "I know I fucked up Kitten, and I will make it up to you, I promise. Does the why of it really matter, though? You're not going back to Britain, and you killed the only one who knew your name or had seen you. It won't come up again. Let the past lie, please." Cait's gaze goes vague and distant, and she shudders crossing her arms, clutching at herself. I reach forward to touch her shoulder, worried. But she shook off whatever memory had consumed her and is back to normal in an instant. "Now, what's your next move?"
I sigh, but give up. It's hard to stay mad at Cait after everything she's done for me, and even more so with how she treats me. I can still manage irritated, though, so I glare at her again, an expression she meets with continued feline indifference. "I'm looking into things with supernatural beauty."
Cait raises a single eyebrow, "Beauty?"
I blush hard, and shrug. "Well, it looks like totally eliminating the physical alterations from this would reduce the effect massively. Especially because the size was an integral part of the strength in my mind when the trait was taken, separating them would be... difficult, and at best only fix this situation. So the best way to regain, and maintain, a mostly human appearance going forward, is to get something that will actively counteract negative mutations," I explain, not looking at Cait. "Given that reliable descriptions of most things with some form of enhanced appearance change to match the standard of beauty of the time, there must be some form of active effect on their appearance. Hopefully, that will work against negative alterations to my shape and appearance."
"And you want to feel pretty for once," Cait adds.
"And I want to feel pretty." Whatever, I'm still a girl, I'm allowed to be vain, even if I never have been before. Especially if it also helps me towards my goals, "At least, even if this doesn't work like I hope it will, I'll still look good however I end up. Unlike..." I wave to my body, currently 'dressed' in a bed sheet tunic.
"So what are you looking at?" Cait settles herself into my lap, sprawling like a cat and looking up at me.
I roll my eyes, but can't stop my smile, "You're enjoying this size difference way too much. The obvious choices are devils and fallen angels. But both tend towards the lush seductress look, which is very much not my preferred style. So I looked at other supernatural beauties. Dryads are more my preferred body type, the athletic kind of sexy. But..."
"But you have a lot of dryad friends, and they've helped you a lot," Cait finishes.
"That, and I'm kind of worried with what happened after the sacrifice. I don't really want the small spirits to turn on me. I know they're a lot more accepting of killing for necessity, especially if you only take what you need. But still."
"So no dryads," the cat fae prompts me along.
"So no dryads," I agree, "so I started looking at other things with a similar body plan, and found..." I try to reach where I've left the books on the floor but can't quite reach, and can't really move with Cait sprawled on me. "Do you mind?" I look down at her.
"Nope." She doesn't move an inch.
"Fine," I sigh, "I need to get some telekinesis. I found sirens, like the Greek monsters that tried to get Odysseus. Granted, most of their ability to influence people came from their voices, but they are described as having entrancing beauty as well. I'm working off the assumption that they have to make some concessions to aerodynamics so they can't be..." I made a gesture out from my chest.
"Too in the way?" Cait offers. I nod, my blush still hasn't faded. "So Greece?"
"Yup. Don't suppose you'll give me a ride this time?" I poke her in the stomach.
She bats my hand away and pops to her feet heading for the faerie trode. "You coming?" she calls over her shoulder.
Cats.
###
Siren's aren't hard to find, their location is pretty clearly spelled out in the Odyssey. Also, unnaturally beautiful, winged, and bird-footed women hanging out on sea cliffs singing, are hard to miss. That being said, getting close enough to kill them is harder, especially for me. Or rather, getting close to them with my mind intact. My enhanced hearing means that Odysseus' solution for his crew of waxed cotton isn't really going to cut it for me.
Fortunately, modern technology has my back. Earplugs crafted to specifically fit my ear's internal geometry blocks almost everything, battery-powered noise-canceling headphones take care of the rest, and inscribing both with a Script for silence will hopefully be overkill.
Aeaea is a beautiful island, largely green, with sheer stone cliffs leading to hidden beaches protected by sunken rocks. Summer would be the perfect time to be here, but the Mediterranean climate makes it pretty nice even in early autumn. The air is warm and the water looks blue and inviting. Those beaches are also where the Sirens like to hang out, sunning themselves on the sand and watching for ships to tempt to their doom. Coming at them from the sea, while easy in the sense that they would come to you, is also deeply stupid. You don't sneak up on somebody from in front of them.
Which is why I'm slowly climbing down one of the cliffs towards where a flock of Sirens are lounging, trying not to be noticed. I'm not here, I'm not here, I chant to myself, straining more than I really should be climbing down this cliff. Then again, I am significantly heavier than I was the last time I tried climbing something. Sure, I'm stronger too, but strength to weight ratios are far more important in climbing than just how much you can lift. Hopefully this will fix that issue too.
Down on the beach, one of the Sirens glances around curiously, like they'd just heard something. I press myself to the cliff face, I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm horribly exposed clinging to the light colored stone. I'm pretty much depending on them not looking up to get the drop on them.
After a moment the Siren shrugs and turns back to the important business of getting as much sun as she can.
I let out a breath and keep climbing, wincing slightly as it feels like something inside of me catches against something else, and pulls painfully. The feeling fades after a moment or two, though, and I keep going.
I'm not here, I'm not here.
I drop onto the sand silently and start to creep in the Siren's direction. It's a little odd moving around not hearing anything. I've gotten used to my new senses with Ku's help, and now I feel the absence of my sonar-worthy hearing far more than I would have my normal hearing.
I'm not here...
Somehow, I manage to creep up right behind them without the Sirens noticing anything. They're really very pretty, I'm happy to see. Sleek athletic curves that go well with broad wings they have spread to catch as much of the warm sun as they can. Their lack of clothes also display everything, and I'm also happy to see that I was right about the... volume of their assets. The bird feet are a little off-putting, but hardly a deal breaker. Not something I'll be acquiring, but hardly the worst catch I've seen attached to supernatural beauty.
Their hair is intense, with colors that, while not natural on humans, aren't as overdone as some supernaturals I've seen. The hair also goes well with their eyes, all gorgeous jewel tones...
They're looking right at me...
How long have I been standing here admiring them?
Fuck.
They look like they are saying something, but my various auditory precautions seem to be working. The looks on their faces might be confused with something seductive, but with my various sensory enhancements I've gotten rather good at telling what people are feeling, and they smell pissed.
Getting angrier by the moment, too.
Fuck it, stealth is screwed. Maybe I can get one of them before they take off, though. I lunge forward, the next test knife smoothly drawn from my improvised belt. The Sirens open their mouths unnaturally wide, and mid-lunge I'm swatted away from them by the hand of an angry god.
My knife goes flying and I hit the ground a few feet back. My entire front side feels bruised, much like when I'd taken the stray devil's ribbit of doom. I pull myself to my feet as quickly as I can, the bruising already fading.
Note to self, they can do more than entrance with their voices.
This is turning out to be much harder than I thought it would be, and in a different way too. I figured that if I was going to be spotted, it would be while I was still on the cliff.
The Sirens have taken to the air and are hovering over the beach, their beauty marred by the snarling expressions and mouths full of very pointy teeth. We stare at each other for a long moment. I spot my knife out of the corner of my eye and lunge for it.
I short-stop myself as the sand in front of me explodes upwards from some sonic assault. The Sirens are circling me now, flinging pulses of sound at me from out of my reach. I really need to get myself some ranged options. In desperation, I grab a loose stone and fling it at one of the flying women as hard as I can. Which is a good bit harder than I'm expecting, I'm still getting used to my new strength. The stone misses what I'm aiming at, center mass, but punches a hole clean through the wing it hit instead.
The Siren plummets to the sand, and like it was a signal, the Sirens completely lose it. They dive at me swinging their taloned feet forward, coming after me like I'm a mouse or something, sending me into frantic dodges. I dive left, roll to my feet and immediately fall backwards, again narrowly avoiding talons, one of which could easily wrap around my head. I have to abort the roll as one further away nearly hits me with another sound blast.
In spite of the continual close calls, and the few times that they catch me, drawing deep gouges that ooze blood for a few moments before slowly pulling themselves shut or leaving bruises that fade even faster, I'm smiling. This is much more like the kind of fight I'm trained for. Really, they never should have come within arms reach of me.
Finally getting my feet under me, I slip the next dive bomb, my hand snapping out and grabbing the Siren by the ankle. A quick jerk downwards sends the bird-woman face first into the sand. The unnatural angle of her head tells me that her neck isn't up to taking her own momentum.
They come at me faster then, but I've hit my stride. I slip between a set of grasping talons, ignoring the lines of blood drawn across my chest and back, and throw my first punch in a fight with my new strength. I can feel her rib cage snapping like popcorn as my fist impacts her chest, with my muscle and her dive behind it.
I backhand another out of the air as she tries to take me from behind. I pivot around a third, duck under her wings, and send her into the beach with a hammer fist. A stomp on her wing makes sure she isn't going anywhere.
I turn just in time to take a pair of fisted talons to the face. The blow knocks me on my ass and breaks my nose. My return to my feet is somewhat slower this time, and not just because I take a moment to straighten my nose. Wait... do I even need to do that any more? I'm pretty sure that troll regeneration will set bones somehow, but at the moment I can't remember.
The Siren that's just gotten me is diving for me again, an ugly look on her otherwise pretty face. I manage to slip between her talons and catch her around her middle into a classic hip throw. I fall backwards into an ugly, but effective, modified arm bar on her wing that snaps it like a twig. The pain of the broken wing stuns her long enough for me to straddle her and begin a ground and pound. I get in two punches which she manages to mostly avoid by jerking her head to one side then the other, before she opens her mouth, and something hits me in the face.
It feels like every capillary in my face pops at once and the blow knocks me upright just in time for another Siren to snatch me off her flock mate. This time I scream as talons as long as my hand dig into both shoulders and pull me off the ground.
I try to reach up and break a leg or something to get her to let me go, but I feel something catch and pull inside my torso and I can't lift my arms enough to do anything. Instead, I'm slowly pulled into the air, jerked higher one wing beat at a time. Each wing beat also sends a burning lance of pain through me everywhere the bird woman's talons are driven into me.
Finally, the siren reaches the height she wants and dives, again taking me with her. Even through the haze of pain, what it's doing is pretty obvious. She's going to let me go and pull up at the last moment, cratering me into the beach. I have no idea how I can stop her, so instead I try to reach for the Siren's legs again. This time nothing catches and I get her by the ankles. So when she tries to let go of me, she comes along for the ride anyway.
I hit the ground hard enough to white out for a moment. Even half unconscious, I struggle to regain my feet, trying not to scream again as I pull myself off the siren's talons. If I look like I'm down for the count, or even sufficiently weakened, they'll either kill me or grab their wounded and flee. Either would be bad. My vision begins to clear as I gain my feet, which makes standing much easier. My headphones have been lost somewhere in the fight, but my ear plugs are still in place. The Sirens aren't really trying for anything as subtle as mesmerism anymore anyway.
The Siren that pulled me into the air had hit the ground in front of me and had broken like a bag of dry twigs when she did. I turn and glare up at the remaining flock. They hover there in the air, staring at me with hate, but they aren't diving anymore.
Which is fair. I just dropped five of them and I'm still standing, the wounds in my shoulders visibly closing. I'm careful not to show how my stomach is attempting to digest my spine.
We stare each other down for several minutes, before they turn and fly away. I'd say fled, but they don't really give off that impression, more like I've proven that I'm not worth the effort. They do leave me what I came for, though.
I retrieve my knife and move back over to the Siren that I'd been snatched off of. This is harder than the trolls had been. She looks remarkably human, aside from the wings, feet, and coloration. Her expression of pain is something that could have been on a human face.
I don't hesitate though. This is what I've committed to, what I've been driving for. I can't afford to stumble on this path or I'll never make it to the end. The knife goes into the Siren's chest, and immediately I feel the change. Much faster than having to wait for the troll to give up and die.
My body pulls inwards, less like I'm losing mass, and more like I'm being compacted. Hopefully I'll actually lose enough weight to sit in a chair again.
I really miss chairs.
Moments after it starts, the changes end. I'm swimming in the improvised clothing that Cait had found for me, so I've definitely shrunk. How much I'm not sure, but I'm definitely still bigger than I used to be, though.
I also have a chest! Not huge by any means, which is good, I don't want huge, but decently sized! Noticeable! Even if they are still on the small side.
Also, I'm even hungrier now with all the healing.
My stomach roars.
A lot hungrier. I'd be amazed if I have any blood sugar left the way my head is beginning to pound.
That had been a hard fight. Much harder than I thought it would be. I hadn't expected their voices to be such effective weapons. Physical impacts, shattering rock explosively. If my hearing protection wasn't as complete as it was, I have no doubt that they could have done a lot more.
I glance over to where the Siren that I winged is trying to sneak up on me. I do, do a lot of singing for my Scripts, and I had just noted the need for a ranged option. The last Siren snarls, then purses her lips. I fling myself to the side, but the skin on my rib cage is still ripped open. A moment later I'm on my feet and lunging for her.
With her injured wing dragging behind her and her bird feet not suited to movement on the ground, she doesn't really have much chance of evading me.