appearance might be, but he retained his memories intact. Sure enough, in the very back they found racks of clothing: the majority intended to be worn by the wizard, but also some items that had been maintained for guests, or left behind by previous visitors. The women's attire would require some minor modifications, but Cocoa and Mamakitty would be well garbed. As for the rest of them, while Taj found himself lamenting the absence of style, there was enough that would be suitable.
The notion of donning artificial skin caused them more grief than the finding of it. As she slipped into traveling pants and jerkin, Mamakitty writhed as if being subjected to a soapy bath.
'This is too tight.'
'It's all too tight.' Oskar was having trouble with the belt he had chosen until he thought to think of it as a leash on his pants instead of his collar. That narrow band of leather still encircled his neck. The idea of removing it was still somehow—obscene. 'If it was loose enough to be comfortable, it would all fall off.' Gingerly, he placed a loose velvet cap on his head, forgetting that there was no longer any need to be concerned about objects pressing down on his ears now that they protruded from the side of his head instead of the top. He found they no longer rotated very well, either.
'I don't see what you're all so aggravated about.' Hunkering ponderously down before a tall antique mirror, Samm admired the cloak and hood he had cleverly improvised from a huge blanket. 'I am enjoying this.'
'Why should it aggravate you?' Mamakitty wrestled awkward new body parts into constricting silk. 'You're used to shedding old skins in favor of new. We're not.'
'You will find that the habit grows on you. Personally, I feel quite refreshed.' Pulling the makeshift hood over his head, the giant resembled a marble sculpture that had somehow broken free from a castle portico.
'Weapons?' Making a face, Cezer gave one last desultory tug on the bottom of his shirt. Oskar thought the cat-man looked quite fine. He, on the other hand, felt as disheveled as he had in his wiry gray fur. That was just the way things were, he sighed. Some creatures were destined to look sleek and handsome no matter their circumstances. Then there were those like himself to whom the term
He put the thought aside. They were not going to a fancy dress ball. 'Over this way,' he told them.
An offshoot of the storeroom, the wizard's armory was small, befitting Evyndd's reliance on abilities that did not require the application of muscle. But there was enough gear to outfit them all, albeit not always to their individual tastes. Cezer immediately laid claim to a bejeweled, high-pommeled sword that had been a gift to the sorcerer from a grateful client. Cocoa settled for a similarly well-decorated rapier and matching stiletto, while Mamakitty was content with a far less flashy sword. Satisfied with the leavings, Oskar struggled to buckle on the remaining blade. He was still having trouble learning how to use fingers.
They had to cajole Taj to carry any weapon at all. 'I'm a singer and a thinker, not a fighter,' he kept protesting. In vain, it turned out, as Oskar and Mamakitty outfitted him with a brace of small throwing knives. As for Samm, spears and swords looked like toothpicks in his massive hands, and might have proven as effective.
'These are too small.' He laid them aside. 'I will improvise something suitable for my size and appropriate to my nature.' But with the tiny armory all but gleaned, there was little left to choose from. 'I have an idea,' he announced cryptically. Exiting the storeroom, he left them to proceed with the next step in their search.
Though they examined every corner, even searching behind the tall wooden vessel from which emanated threatening scratching sounds, they found nothing that looked like a suitable vessel for the capturing and holding of color.
'Would we even know one if we saw it?' A weary Cocoa wiped sweat from her forehead and proceeded to lick the moisture from the back of her hand, lamenting the much reduced reach of her new tongue. 'We're nothing but a wizard's pets, and have little of his knowledge.'
'I should have paid more attention to the things he was doing and slept less.' Mouth set, Mamakitty rested hands on hips and surveyed the chamber. 'We'll just have to find something appropriate to store this color in after we've collected it.'
'Then that's how we'll deal with it. The next thing we have to do is choose a leader.' Pausing in the doorway that led back to the rest of the house, Cezer struck an aristocratic pose, head up, one hand on the pommel of his magnificent jeweled sword, ears pointed as far forward as he could force them. 'I hereby nominate myself. Who votes for me?' When not one hand or voice was raised in support, his expression changed to an irritated pout. For a moment, he thought about spraying the lot of them, but somehow that no longer seemed an appropriate response. 'All right, then—if not me, who? Who is better qualified as a fighter?'
'Better in this instance to ask who is better qualified as a thinker?' Turning, Mamakitty indicated the scruffy individual standing by her side. 'I propose that we confer the distinction on Oskar.'
'Him? The living doorstop? The dust mop that eats?' Cezer almost broke out laughing. 'You can't be serious! Who ever heard of a leader of a desperate adventure named 'Oskar'?'
'Why not you, Mamakitty?' proffered Cocoa shyly.
'Because I can be too impatient,' the older woman replied. 'I suspect there will be times ahead of us when calm and reflection are more important than sheer brain power. Oskar is by far the most even-tempered of us all. The most mellow, if you will.'
'Also the ugliest,' Cezer put in, 'though I don't see that as a qualification.'
Glaring at the younger male, Mamakitty concluded, 'I cast my vote for Oskar.'
'If you think he's the right one—' Cocoa shrugged. 'Very well. I'll vote for him as well.'
'Thank you—I think.' Running fingers through his thick, undisciplined patch of remaining fur, Oskar came to a decision and tossed the cap aside. Though light enough, even the slight weight on his head irritated him. So his scalp would get wet—he had never minded it before. 'If this is what you all want'—Cezer held his tongue—'then I will do the best I am able. What say you in this matter, Taj?'
'I don't care.' The singer was not happy. 'We're probably all going to die anyway, so what difference does it make who leads us?'
'Thanks for that vote of confidence.' Gazing past the slim-bodied cynic, Oskar squinted. 'Where's Samm? His opinion counts in this as much as anyone's.'
'He said he was going to try and find something to arm himself with,' Cocoa reminded them. 'I wonder if he's had any luck?'
Still miffed by his rejection, Cezer snorted derisively. 'Probably trying to figure out how to make a dirk out of a fork. His kind aren't too bright, you know.'
They located the giant behind the house, by the guest stables. Cowl pushed back to expose his bald head, he proudly displayed his handiwork. The impressive appliance he had fashioned for himself consisted of a single massive granite wedge wrenched from the foundation of the stable. A hole ran through the center of the wedge- shaped stone. Using the tough leather straps of old unicorn tack, the man-mountain had fastened the block securely to a thick pole chosen from a pile of cut logs stored by the side of the stable. Water dripped from the imposing apparatus. Several such soakings, Mamakitty knew, would cause the leather straps to tighten even more securely around the rock.
'That's quite an axe,' she told the giant admiringly. 'It suits you.'
Cezer could still not quite bring himself to compliment his newly limbed companion. 'Simple is as simple does,' he sniffed. 'There's no elegance in it.'
Samm hefted the immense adze in both hands. 'I did not fashion it for beauty, meower of meticulous complaints.'
Mamakitty stepped in before Cezer could respond. 'That's enough, you two. We're likely to have to fight some of this Horde, and maybe an evil necromancer or two. Save your belligerence for that.' She turned to Oskar. 'Time to go.'
'Go?' A baffled Oskar scratched absently at his hip. 'Go where?'
'Yes, where!' Cezer snickered gleefully. 'Lead on, O stalwart and intrepid leader! I hereby knight thee Oskar the Oaf. Lead us—if you can even pick a direction!' Leaning forward, he lowered his voice to an acerbic whisper. 'Why not use your great oversize nose, and simply smell us a path? You always were good at ferreting out the most remarkable stinks.'
'Though rude as always, Cezer has a point.' Looking ravishing (to another human, at least) in her riding pants, boots, and long-sleeved tunic, Cocoa eyed Mamakitty questioningly as they returned to the house. 'Do we even have an idea where to go to find this color we're supposed to bring back?'
