It was not immediately apparent to her that she was occupying another body. One moment she was falling, the suddenness of it allowing for no fear or surprise, and the next she was rising to her feet, blinking back vertigo. She swallowed dryly. Her hands felt huge and strong; she flexed them convulsively, staring, then let them fall by her sides. As Omni vanished, her eyes fixed on the prone heap of her own body, an expression of dizzy incomprehension passing over her face.
Somehow, she was a god. And a man.
She looked down at herself, suddenly aware of the new part of her between her legs, and resisted the urge to cross them. Perhaps it would be interesting, later, but for now it was just shocking and wrong. Her throat felt sour, and she worked to return her attention to her hands and arms, so much stronger than the female ones she worked constantly to hone. It was unfair, really, that men had such an advantage. Men, and gods.
I have all his power.
For now, the advantage was hers. The question, then, was what to do with it. Returning the artifact would be easy – she had only to teleport directly to the chimera’s room, now that she knew of it, and then to Versailles. Obviously there was much to do, before she did that. What doors would open to her, in this disguise! The Spanish God, and kin to the royal family...
But carefully, carefully. It would not do to run so rampant that Mallos would come searching for her as soon as Omni’s spell was over. What use would it be to open doors, if they were all barred and boarded up once she had found them? And more than that, it would be delicate work masquerading as the god without incurring his enmity forever. Because she would play the part, that was sure. The face of Mallos was as valuable to her as his divinity. The challenge would be moving through his world without drawing every eye.
A great challenge, indeed, and the first test presented itself in moments. Croe watched the cat streaking towards them, realization dawning that she had not considered the god’s familiar, in this equation. Her eyes narrowed. What if the creature was in her mind at that moment, and racing to intervene? But no; Sperantia clarified the point at once. A faint smile curled the corner of Mallos’ mouth.
“An experiment,” she answered dryly. Her voice sounded bizarre to her – rich and deep and heavy with an accent she’d never had. But at least it wasn’t her voice – Croe’s voice. That would have been difficult to explain. “I believe I am needed at the palace.” Mallos crossed his arms over his chest, inclining his head slightly, and prepared to teleport to the Core.
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