make sure the child is his.'
And I thought, of course. Of course. No other man can touch me.
Of course.
And I knew exactly what I had to do.
8
Cherry
The plans of the gods, the twists of fate – don't hope to understand. Just say this: that sometimes there's the sense that here the gods are focused, here is a moment, a person, a place where they can feed. Such a place or event may bring joy or sorrow or it may signify nothing at all to man or halfman. But when those of us who understand feel that sense of things coming together, then there is a taste of fate… yes, yes… even Odin will lick his lips at the thought.
I always knew she was right at the centre of things.
I can smell it around Signy. I can smell it around Siggy, even though he is an unbeliever. The gods, creations of Ragnor, he says! Bits of metal and mixtures of creatures! What difference does it make if your machines are flesh and blood or plastic and steel rods? Destiny is made of the flesh of moments and the breath of centuries. What technician in Ragnor can manufacture a single extra second of time? Or take it away?
That is a thing for the gods and I am their priestess.
'Cherry, can I leave here?' she said.
'Yes, yes. But not with me,' I said.
Shapes are easy. You just have to have more than one and you see at once how to take them off and put them on. All magic is like that; something given that you can never understand until you get it and then you see that there's nothing to understand at all. You have your gifts. Sight. Touch. Hearing. The feelings of sex. The gods gave you all these things. And they gave you a boy-shape or a girl-shape to wear. They gave me a girl, a cat, a bird and a nut.
The giving of shapes – or the loaning of them – now, that is hard. I had to write the runes and talk to the Givers, the gods themselves. I know how to call on the Cunning One, the god of fire and tricks, the giver of shapes. I spoke to him in the way we speak; he accepted the runes and allowed my request.
If I had known what she planned I would not have asked. 'Of course!' she cried. And she wore – me. My bird to get her out of her prison – my Signy flying on my fast wings, while I sat at home in her girl. She took my girl tucked away where shapes fit, deep inside, waiting to be taken out and swell and grip the flesh and make it theirs. All the time, I, obedient Cherry, lay on her bed, sat in her wheelchair, used her mouth to eat. I spoke with Conor and forbade him to sleep with me, as she had instructed. She, my Signy, wearing my cat – she wove her way north and made her way into his house, and there she dressed herself in my finest finery- in me, in my girl. As me she knocked softly on her brother's door…
9
Siggy
I heard the soft knocking and I was afraid.
'Who's there?'
No answer. But again, a soft knock. I thought, who gets in the front door in silence and then knocks on my bedroom door?
I crept out of bed and slid a gun from under my pillow. I was two steps over the carpet when…
'Siggy…'
It had to be trouble. I pulled on some pants and opened the door. She stood there, pale as the moon, anxious, not her usual self at all.
I said, 'What's happened?' It felt dangerous. Why had she come so quietly, so late – in secret, it seemed to me?
'Siggy.'
She stood and smiled at me, a little, odd smile. I made to go to her and take her through to the kitchen, but she leaned against me.
'You're trembling,' I said. There were tears in her eyes. She only shook her head and smiled at me.
'Cherry? What is it? What's happened?'
I sat down with her on the bed. She wiped her eye with the back of a finger and touched it on my face.
'You are beautiful,' she whispered.
I laughed. Me, beautiful! Then I went cold. I thought, she's teasing me.
'What do you want?' I asked her. My voice sounded hard.
'Poor Sigs, what have they done to you?'
I just shook my head. I didn't understand. She wasn't herself at all. This wasn't like Cherry.
She leaned forward and put her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. I held her very gently. I felt so tender! I felt, if I squeezed I could break her in half. I could feel her heart and my heart thumping – bang bang bang! She must have too, because she looked up and laughed. I didn't know what to do. She seemed so strange to me.
She put her head back down, laid her hand on my leg and stroked up, right up close. She kissed my neck…
… and I thought… ahhhh…
I waited a while. I didn't want to make any mistakes. Only a few years ago she had been a girl but now she was grown up. Her life moved so fast, you see? She was more cat than human, her life moved at a cat's speed. She was grown more than enough for this. My heart was going so hard I thought it'd scare her off. Was this what she wanted? It had been so long since I'd had a girl. No one could want me now, even an animal wouldn't want me now. But her hand was stroking me and she could feel me swelling up with her touch.
'That feels good,' she said. I lowered a hand and touched the side of her breast and she sighed, so gently she sighed. I wanted to be sure this was what she wanted. I wanted her to say, yes, sleep with me, do it to me. I wanted to be sure she wasn't just doing this because she pitied me. I wanted her to tell me she wanted me.
She kissed the hollow of my neck and smelled my skin. I did the same to her. Then suddenly I was in a hurry and I held her breast and touched her nipple.
'Mmmm.' She sighed and leaned back. I leaned above her and began to pull her dress up… slowly, gently, because I felt as if we were in a spell… as if she was dreaming and that I might wake her if I was too rough. But I had to try very hard to concentrate and not be rough.
'Siggy, Siggy,' she murmured. She moaned a little. I saw her eyes open and I watched her watching me watch her as we kissed, and then they shut suddenly. She stiffened under me and I thought, shit, she's waking up! But she was wide awake all the time, because she pushed her hand down my pants and began to pull at me.
I said, '…Yes?'
'Yes,' she said. 'Yes!' She laughed. I pulled up her dress and smelled her skin and…
10
And what kind of a coupling is that? Twin to twin, brother to sister, one not knowing who the other is. Or was it a threesome – human to human to halfman, and a shape that was a present from a god of tricks? Cherry, part human, part cat, part bird, part god – she was in there somewhere. The shape-changer, the mad crippled girl and the boy with the broken face.
As Cherry had predicted, the smell of destiny in the little room attracted those who feed off fate. Had anyone
