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     The next morning brought another change, this time into the weirdest anamorphism hehad yet seen on this world. He seemed to recognize the longer fur, and thepattern of color that ranged down her back. Her face was somewhat elongated buther mouth didn't match what he expected. She had a big bushy tail that cascadedout from under the covers. He put his hand on her paw. He could feel someimpressive nails. They were like little scimitars. He wondered if she was goingto awake with a craving.     She stretched a little, opening her mouth in a yawn. Sure enough, she didn't havemuch in the way of teeth, but a remarkably long tongue snaked out and back induring her stretch. Jon-Tom was fairly certain he knew what she was. Like theolingo, perhaps it was something that had disappeared from this world in histime, or else he hadn't had the chance to encounter one. She opened her eyesand smiled, albeit clumsily, up at his inquisitive face. "Morning! So what am Itoday?" As she asked, she was holding up her paws. She clenched them andreleased them, observing her long claws. They weren't retractable, but theyseemed suitable as weapons. The fur was a little too long for feline, and alittle too course for canine.  She gaveup her inspection and looked to her husband.

      "Well mate of mine, what did I turn into?" He kissed her furry cheek and rubbed her long nose. "WellSybeele, I can't say for certain, but it seems to me that you've become ananteater. You're about the same size and shape as a pangolin, which I amintimately familiar with." She lashed out with her tongue, which flicked him inthe face. "Intimately familiar with a what?" He had to describe the animal toher, both as it was on his world (which he had never known existed), to the onehere. That involved telling her about the whorehouse that he had bought, andhow he had saved a kingdom. That kept the conversation going right throughbreakfast.  "Jon-Tom, sometimes it's hard to believe you. I mean, I know you're truthful and all, butthe stories seem surreal. If I wasn't changing into so many different creaturesevery other day, I would be tempted to call you a liar. Like this, "she said,using herself as a demonstration. "What, under the clouds above, is ananteater? Are you telling me there is something out there that only eats bugs?"He was ready to point out that she had managed breakfast, but it seemedimpolitic. "Every creature evolved to survive. Some did that by living oninsects. On Earth, they use their incredibly long tongue to harvest them, andtheir tough claws to rip open nests. You have evolved past that, or rather thespecies here has. I say it's an interesting change. Do you want to try it

out?"

   She knew what he meant. She was strangely unsettled by the form. Or maybe it was herstomach. Regular food didn't seem to be agreeing with her. But the hell if shewas going to go foraging for ants. She'd go hungry for the next day if she hadto. "Jon-Tom darling; lets pass on this one, unless I'm feeling better tonight.Insects may be this form's favorite food, but I haven't the stomach to gogathering them up for a meal. Breakfast feels like lead. I think I'll stick towater until this form passes. As interesting as sex in this body might turn outto be, I'm not doing it feeling like crap." Her face was a little drawn.  He cupped her chin and kissed her nose. "Sybeele darling, you may do as youplease, but if you sit here and suffer all day, it's your own fault. You carrythe power to wake the dead." She mentally slapped herself. She did! In aninstant she felt fine. "OK, so I'm as stupid as you are sometimes. But I'mstill not eating ants. However, sex is back on if you like!" He kissed heragain. "Why don't we wait until tonight? Though..." She waited for him to finish.He didn't. "Though what?"

   He leaned back in his chair. "Well, you haven't mentioned my duty roster. Youknow, it might be easier if I know things a few days in advance at least. Forexample, I have scheduled an appointment with Huntchy tomorrow. I hope it's notgoing to interfere with anything else." She lowered her head to look straightdown her nose at him. "You have an appointment with Huntchy? I thought you gotthat out of the way yesterday." He pulled his feet out from under the table andpropped them up.  "I did. I think he needs new purpose. I don't see where he's that intelligent, but Ithink he goes to extremes to hide it. Graven says he's a genius. If so, he'swasting his talents as a drunken laborer. Tomorrow we will have it out, man tohorse. The winner gets what he wants. If I win, he quits drinking and goes backto using his brain. If he wins, he gets off scot free from anything he doesthat's against the law."  Sybeele sat there in bemused silence. Nothing could break that stubborn horse's will."My dear sir, what kind of contest are you two having? Huntchy would rather rotin hell than break his bad habits." Jon-Tom grabbed his glass of water from thetable and drank it down. He then set it down, upside down on the tablecloth."That stubborn fool has accepted my challenge to a drinking contest. The firstto drop loses." Her eyes went wide. "You're an idiot! I have all of your power!You'll never out drink him! He's a horse for god's sake!" Instead of speaking,he took his fork, screwed up his face in preparation for the pain, and stabbedit into his hand and withdrew it. Blood flowed out. Before she could scream, itstopped. The skin was whole and unbroken.

   "Dammit Jon-Tom, how did you do that? Eve told me I would get all of your excesspower!" He chuckled. "Yes dear, you did. And good riddance too. I still have myspell singing ability, I think, and a few things left over from being host to aunicorn. I can adjust certain, critical parts, as you should know, and I canheal, both myself and others. Everything else was just a disaster waiting tohappen." She was considering this. She had assumed that he was essentiallyhelpless without her, but it appeared that he wasn't anywhere close tofloundering. "Adjust certain parts? Oh I get it; like back home. But I didn'tknow you could do it now!  She was as forgetful as he was. "Ahem! What about the other night? You seemed prettyhappy that I could adjust myself then." She looked confused, then brightened."Oh yeah, I guess I kind of forgot. Call it the heat of the moment I guess. Thefact that you can do that will save me all sorts of trouble in the future." Hewas bemused by this. She had all that power and refused to use it. It had to belove that held her here, for the greatest magical power on this world meantnothing to her. He could understand. She was a mere nothing on his world;nothing more than a poor child that was about to be murdered for no goodreason. And he loved her very, very much. There was no doubt in his mind; heknew what love was all too well. He had a heart full of it. It was why he hadmade the deal with the town's nuisance horse.

   She was watching him think, hoping he wasn't mulling over too many details. She pokedhim into awareness. "Jon-Tom, maybe you have your healing talent, but I don't seehow that will help you in a drinking contest." He came to full clarity. "Aunicorn's horn has the power to detoxify poisons. I don't have a horn exactly,but it's part of the healing ability. Therefore, I can drink a leviathan underthe table and still win. It's sort of cheating, but Huntchy didn't ask anyquestions. And tomorrow, the magician's guild will be there to certify thedocument stating the terms of the deal. And before you ask, I intend to writeit with Huntchy present. That way he can't cry foul when it's over. But back tomy original complaint. I never know ahead of time what each day is supposed tobring. So what's on for today?"  She sighed. "To be honest, there is nothing on the roster for today. Nor tomorroweither. The three days after that will be full, with meetings with the wizards'guild, the farmers' guild and the swordsmen guild." He sat up, startled."There's a swordsmen guild?" She looked at him sharply. "Of

course. They teachall manner of combat to prospective fighters. You don't get a job as a personalprotector just by practicing with a toy sword on a mock up dummy." He wonderedto himself if this had somehow evolved into the assassins' guild. Four hundredyears was a long time. Then he dismissed the idea. It didn't matter right now.

   "Well, Mrs Merriweather, what would you like to do? Sex is on the top of my list, butwe seem to have all day and night to try it out. What say you and I go checkout the town together?" She suddenly got shy. "I'd love to, but it might seemimproper for you to be seen with what appears to be a different female everyother day." He grabbed her tail and pulled her onto his lap. "If everyone knowswho you are and that you change every other day, and that we are married, whothe hell cares? I don't wish to sound harsh, but I gave up giving a damn whatpeople think a long time ago. I'm way past caring what people think. Those whoaccept you are worthwhile, and those that don't can go f..." She put a clawedfinger to his lips.  "I get it. And I guess I agree. Besides, I'll be with you, so what more do I need?"She kissed him clumsily, got down and went to the bedroom to rummage up someclothing that would fit her new figure. It wasn't happening. Then sheremembered her new power. In a flash she had a wonderful outfit that was roomyenough to allow for a bushy tail. Jon-Tom dressed in his old favorites, and outthe door they went. The streets were busy but hardly crowded. There were someopen air vegetable markets that were surrounded by hares, rabbits, pikas andsquirrels. Farther along there was another open air market, selling fresh fish,clams and snails. It was busy selling to martins, fishers, otters and a fewsmaller felines. The next market was selling hand crafted items; thing madelocally by apprentices who earned money from their sale.

   Sybeele was drawn into this one by the allure of gold and sparkles. Indeed, the itemshere were all crafted by hand and paw, not like on his own world where most ofthe trinkets were made overseas by cheap labor. Here there were pieces ofjewelry, small snuff boxes, charm bracelets; even intricately crafted stilettodaggers and chain mail. None of it compared to what the chief guildsman couldproduce, but it was hard to tell from a simple look-over.   He was afraid that she was going to want something, but she was more interested indiscussing with the vender who had made which pieces. She picked up one,showing it to him proudly. "This was made by Saffrel. This is her apprenticemark on the bottom." He turned it over to see a small crocus punched into themetal. The piece itself was very nice, a small

silver urn decorated with vinesfor handles. A similar motif ran around the entire surface. Jon-Tom was verymuch impressed. The individual leaves looked like they had been plucked from aplant, miniaturized and silver plated.

   He found he was interested in buying it. The problem was, he didn't have anymoney, per se, in this time. If he had his power, he could make money out ofthin air. For that matter, if he had brought his duar with him, he could do italmost as easily. He sighed and put the item back down. The vender, a slimcoati dressed in a smart green tunic and brown shorts, noted his motions.   "My good Lord Mayor, do you not like this lovely little vessel? Your wife spoke toyou of its creator, a fine young craftsman, or should I say craftswoman?Saffrel is indeed a blooming flower of youth, thus she has chosen anappropriate mark for her wares. If the price is too high..." Jon-Tom shook hishead. "It's not that. I'm certain it's worth every penny." Sybeele nudged him,and at the same time pulled out a bag from her purse. "Might my Lord Mayor wishto spend some of his money, or does he wish to horde it all until his death? Ican think of no finer thing to purchase than this, and when she learns that itwas chosen by you, it will mean almost the world to her."

   Apparently he already had a fund to draw upon. It was something else that hadn't beenexplained to him. He had been hoping there was something though, otherwisepaying for tomorrow's drinking contest was going to prove dicey. With a smile,he handed over the coins, adding one extra, to be given to the artisan, andthey headed off down the street, Sybeele hanging lovingly off his arm. "Youhave good taste Jon-Tom," she said with appreciation. He leaned down and kissedher head. "I've got you, don't I?" A tongue snaked out and licked his cheek.  Jon-Tom found that he really liked this town. He had been in some that were prettybackwater in regards to health and cleanliness. Here, it turned out, they evenhad a subterranean sewer system that diverted water from the nearby river to rununder the town for washing away the nastiness. Everything flowed along adowngrade until it reached a receiving pond. Here the lowliest of theagricultural guild dredged the stuff into piles to air dry, after which it wasreturned to the field to start the process all over again. These guys wouldmake any hippy proud!

   Even now, there were street sweepers clearing off the debris into little grates setin the street. It was a bit like sweeping the dust under the rug. Weeds werepulled from cracks, and flower pots, enormous ones, were filled with tall,fragrant flowers. In Jon-Tom's mind, if he ever got the

chance to die, this iswhere he wanted to do it. It was simply a wonder that he had never heard more ofthis city. It was something spectacular, better even than Polastrindu. It waslike he pictured the old medieval castle-towns as a child, before he learnedthe truth about such places. He was proud to be their mayor.  The folk here seemed friendly enough, though he noticed he was getting a few covertlooks. Perhaps it was Sybeele. They knew than he was married to a human,otherwise he would have no children. But it seemed deeper than that. One oldfellow straightened matters out for him without ever being asked. He was old,slightly inebriated, and a jackdaw. His rasping, grating voice carried theentire length of the street. "Haw haw haw! This here human has challenged thegreat Huntchy to a drinking contest! What a great idiot we have been given tolord o'er us in our finest hour! I say everybody take's t'morrow off as aholiday, to watch the biggest defeat in the history of law and order."

   Jon-Tom bowed to the bird, wishing he could get his hands around his neck. "Oh mouthyone, you are correct in that there is to be a contest tomorrow. The winner getswhat he wants. If I win, he gives up drinking and starts using his brain. If hewins, he gets total freedom to do as he wishes. But you bring to light the factthat there is more here than meets the eye. Perhaps we should open betting onthis event."  The jackdaw jumped down, his head bobbing back and forth. "Betting? The good lordmayor wishes to place bets? What is his form of currency?" Jon-Tom made a bow."My power. I'll give every backer of Huntchy a free pass to escape the penaltyof the law for one month. However, should he lose, he will offer his servicesto the city for one month. You will do as you're told, without fail, for thattime period." The townsfolk gasped in dismay. They hardly expected him to win,so extending what amounted as a free ticket for a free-for-all wasdisheartening. If they only knew.  The jackdaw was soused, but not stupid. It was going to be a thousand pound horseversus a hundred and seventy pound human. He drew a wing across his chest andmade a drunken oath. "I Opplef, of the clan of Guttro, hereby pledge that Iwill put my backing to a horse any day." Jon-Tom smiled. "And I accept yourpledge, in front of these good people, who will forget not a word that has beensaid. I will see you tomorrow at Priccolo's place." He bowed to the crowd, whoparted as he and his wife continued their journey through town.

   Sybeele pulled him in tightly. "What are you trying to do, get every ne'er-do-well intoline? You realize that even some good, kind hearted citizen's will

bet againstyou. The odds favor the horse." He wrinkled is nose. "Odds smodds. A lessonlearned the hard way often sticks with a person. I don't care if anyone bets onme. This isn't about money, it's about wasted potential. Which leads me toanother subject. I may need your help, magically that is, if something I intendto try backfires. I've gotten so used to raw power that doing something withfinesse on the duar may prove difficult.  They continued their walk. Jon-Tom found his way to Priccolo's Bung and Barrel. Theowner, a short little muskrat, was all atwitter. "My Lord Mayor Sir! How couldyou schedule such a thing without consulting me? I hope you intend to pay forevery drop drank or spilt! I run a business here, not a flop house!" Jon-Tompulled out his money, and handed over the entire amount. "This should cover thecosts." Priccolo counted it out and blanched. "Sir, this is way too much!"Jon-Tom patted his back, bending over to do so.

   "Keep it all until this is over. Take from it what you need for an honest day's work.We'll settle up tomorrow after I teach Huntchy a lesson." The muskrat knew hisdrinkers, and those who couldn't hold their booze. "Lord Mayor Sir, I hate tosay this, but my money is on the horse. Most everyone's is. It's nothingpersonal, it's just that...wellllll...you're a human and all. He's got you, poundfor pound, nearly eight times the mass. They'll be burying you withoutembalming by the end of the day."  Jon-Tom sighed. "Here's the deal. Tomorrow, Huntchy and I sign an agreement. A wizardwill seal the pact. I'm adding a clause that anyone taking the horse's sidewill have to serve the town, in a capacity I chose, for thirty complete days.I'd like you to spread the word. And I'm going to give you some advice. Don'tbet, and if you're going to bet, bet on me. His four legs will drop far soonerthan my two. I guarantee it!" The owner looked him up and down. For somereason, the human's stance and surety rattled his resolve. "Ok my Lord Mayor,I'll refrain from betting. But if I lose sure money, it's coming out of yourpurse!"

   Jon-Tom walked out and turned down a side street, making his way to the wizards' guild,where he got the volunteer services of one a top performer. The spell wasn'tparticularly a hard one, but Jon-Tom wanted it done right. From there it wasback to his home. Sybeele fixed a meal for them, including using magic forherself for a big bowl of ants. He said nothing as she dug in. She had themcleaned up in no time. She belched daintily. "I hate to say it, and I reallymean this; those bugs were delicious! I'll be so glad to be back to metomorrow!" He laughed right up until her tongue came out and slid

into his ear.Then it was her turn to laugh.  That evening wasn't without incident. The first thing they found out was thatanteaters weren't encumbered by things like hymens. On the other hand, theyseemed to be ill suited for normal sexual contact. She was about ready to callthe whole thing off when it dawned on her, yet again, that she could modifythis body, even if she didn't have control over its species. With a thought, anaughty thought, she gave herself a proper human vagina. The rest of the nightwent fine, though on more than one occasion, Jon-Tom wished for a pair ofclippers to deal with her long, flowing fur. It was nice to look at, but hellto deal with in bed.

   It was also a good thing he still had his healing power. Those claws, meant fortearing open concrete-hard termite mounds, made mincemeat of his back. He putit on automatic just to keep up with the damage. At the rate they were going,he was going to run out of healing before tomorrow's contest. Then again, ifthat was the case, he would need to drink himself insensible just to deaden thepain!