But I would crawl to my bed rather than have her assist me there!
It had grated on him, deeply, to find himself in the position of being unable to help himself. And then to have her appear and retrieve him from the results of his own folly—a subordinate, an employee, a woman—oh, it was ignominious! He gnashed his teeth as he extracted himself from the embrace of his chair, stopping often to pant with exertion.
To have du Mond discover me in such a case would be bad enough—but her! Why, two months ago she did not even believe in the power of Magick, and now she gives me lectures about how to conduct myself! The cheek! I, who rescued her from abject poverty, from that hovel of a boarding-house, from ruin! And she sits on my footstool, in my private chambers, in my home and dares to tell me that she will dose me like a sick puppy if I do not voluntarily take some vile potion that quack Pao has made up!
Still, his conscience whispered, she was right, and so was Pao. The opiates were affecting his judgment; he would not have attempted tonight's exercise if they had not been affecting his reason. And Pao's potion, vile as it was, had certainly revived him....
But that was not the point!
He clung to the back of the chair for a moment, then got a hand on the wall behind it. Using the wall as a prop, he worked his way over to the bed, still stopping at frequent intervals to rest. The bed had never looked so inviting; the covers were turned down, and all he needed to do was to fall into it once he finally reached it. He untied the belt holding his velvet Working robe to his body, writhed out of it, and dropped the long robe halfway along the wall for the Salamanders to pick up later. He could have trousers and shirt off in a trice, and today he had been in too much of a hurry to bother with anything else.
Working that damned tail through the Tight places in the seats of my clothing takes twice as long as everything else. Thank heavens this is no clime for long underwear!
It was with a groan of relief that he reached the bed, and lunged for it, landing half in it and half out of it.
No matter; that was close enough.
He rolled himself onto the mattress, and with a growl of frustration, clawed the clothing from his body, ripping seams and popping buttons as he did so. It was not the first time he had done such a thing, and it would probably not be the last. The Salamanders could see it was mended, or he could buy new. He certainly didn't lack for the means to do so. Though everything else was falling down about his ears, his finances were prospering, especially with the Panama-Pacific International Exposition in the offing.
Naked now, he scrabbled the covers up over himself, and lay with his eyes closed. His head spun, but fortunately not in a way that made him sick to his stomach.
"Why don't you make me another dose of Pao's damned medicine?" he said, knowing he would be obeyed by the Salamander still waiting for orders. "You watched her do it, didn't you?"
"I did," the Salamander replied. He heard the dry ticking of bits of herb falling into the cup, then water pouring.
"I suppose you went and got her, didn't you?" he asked the Salamander.
"It is my duty to serve you," it replied calmly. "That was the best way to serve you at the time."
Trust the thing to tell him that!
"You have trusted her with everything else," the creature continued, and once again, he heard water trickling. "Why not this? She is worthy of trust. And she was not revolted by your appearance."
"Oh, she was revolted; she is just good at putting the proper face on things. She'd have to be; she grew up going to academic parties. If there was ever a hotbed of machination and deception, it is a sherry-reception given by a Noted Professor. I had rather swim with crocodiles; at least my reputation would survive." He opened his eyes as he felt the warmth of the Salamander near him, and saw the cup floating within grasping distance. He was pleased that his hand did not shake quite so much this time as he reached for it.
The medicine was just as appalling the second time, which probably meant that the Salamander had gotten it right.
For the first time since I was changed, I had a woman in my room—and I couldn't even touch her. His body's needs hadn't changed, and they reminded him urgently that Rose Hawkins was a most attractive, if annoying, woman. What woman could look on me as I am and not be revolted? I could not pay a courtesan enough to serve me. Even the lowest, vilest woman in the meanest crib in the Barbary Coast would refuse to serve me. Good God, kissing me would be like kissing an Alsatian! And as for lovemaking—He winced away from the thought. No healthy, sane woman would find him anything other than repugnant.
Although he did look mostly human from about the nipples to the knees.
Except for the tail, of course... but no one would ever look farther than his face and his hands.
The fur of his head and neck thinned and vanished altogether once it reached the middle of his chest, although his skin was paler now than it had been before. The fur did not resume until about the middle of the thigh, until it was a wolf's pelt again from the knee downward. He could not wear shoes anymore; his feet were more paw-like than his hands; he wore soft moccasins and slippers when he wore anything on his feet. The one place his torso was not bare was a ridge of hair that ran down his spine to the tail which had sprouted just above his buttocks.
A charming sight, that. Sure to inspire passion in any red-blooded woman. Sure to inspire her to think of her pet spaniel, of course.
And of course, Rose had treated him exactly as any normal woman would, provided that woman had the ability to take what he had become in with a measure of composure. She had treated him like a puppy.
At least she didn't scratch my ears and tell me to be a good boy. He put the empty cup down, and curled up on his side. Not surprisingly, the "curled" position was more comfortable and felt more natural than lying on his back.
That damned tail again.
The Salamander was mercifully quiet. "Put out the lights," he ordered, and the light visible through his closed eyelids vanished.
That led to another thought—the behavior of the Salamander, in fetching Rose, presumably the moment she had reached her rooms. What had gotten into the creature? It wasn't supposed to act on its own initiative!
At least, he had never come across any references to Elementals that did. But then again, his relationship with his Elementals was not coercive in nature; perhaps they had never acted on their own initiative with other Masters because those coercions prevented such actions.
But why had the Salamander brought Rose? Why not du Mond?
They don't like du Mond, not any of them, but that isn't the answer. One of their primary functions is to guard me from danger. Could they see A Mond as a danger now? That was always possible; this particular Salamander had been warning him away from du Mond for some time now.
But again: why bring Rose here? Why not do the simple things they could do? They could have left him where he was, brought blankets and restoratives to help him regain his strength. Why bring Rose in at all?
The door below him opened and closed again, and he heard du Mond's steps coming up the stairs. The one good thing about this change was the alteration in his hearing ability: it had quadrupled. Not a pin dropped in this house without him knowing.