Free Cursed by the Sea God by Patrick Bowman

moment later her voice came
     again, no longer choked. “But how did you resist my charm?” Her voice went soft
     and sultry. “Such a muscular man, too.”
    His voice grew deeper. “Resist your charm? Perhaps . . . not entirely.” Then
     their voices went off into another room and I couldn’t hear them any
     longer.
    It seemed a long time before I heard anything further fromthe
     cottage. At last there were footsteps approaching the back door. I trotted out
     of the way as it opened and Lopex stepped out, Circe hanging on his arm. Her
     feet were bare, her toenails painted an eggshell blue. His sandals had been
     mis-laced.
    “So, Circe. Where are my men?”
    She turned her gaze up at him. “Are you sure we have to do this right now?
     Perhaps later, after we’ve had dinner, or . . .”
    He frowned impatiently. “Now.”
    She pouted. “Oh, very well. But you have to understand that it was for their
     own good. Most men are nearly pigs already, you know. Not you, of course, my
     lone wolf.” She reached up to stroke his ear but he shook her off.
    “For the last time: Where are they ?” His expression changed slowly as he
     looked down at us milling anxiously at his feet. He turned to her, his
     expression shocked. “Pigs? Are these my men?”
    Startled by his sudden anger, she said nothing. He grabbed her forearms and
     shook her savagely. “Speak, witch! Did you turn my men into pigs ?”
    She cringed. “Oh please, stop! It really was for their own good, don’t you see?
     I just know they’ll be happier, once they get used to it . . .”
    “Their own good? Pigs ?” he roared. “Turn them back at once!”
    Her hands fluttered nervously. “Yes, yes, certainly. Anything for you, of
     course. But please don’t shout, my sweet—it scares me.”
    He lowered his voice. “Turn them back now.” He stooped to snatch up one of the
     nearest, gripping it in both arms as it struggled. “This one first.”
    “Yes, my dear,” she said meekly. “Now, let me see.” She
     frowned, concentrating, then brushed its nose and ears with her hand and
     murmured something. The pig immediately began to grow and change shape, and
     Lopex put it down hastily. In a moment the pig was gone and a white-haired
     soldier called Adelphos was crouching on all fours in the dirt before them,
     naked buttocks high in the air.
    Circe took an involuntary step back. “Oh. Why . . . yes,” she said faintly, a
     blush creeping up her neck. “Yes. Of course. Do you know, I’ve never actually
     changed one back before? Let me see about some clothes.”
    Adelphos stood up easily before her and she reached out to brush both his
     shoulders with her fingertips, her mouth pursed. “There.” Now he stood before
     them in a simple chiton and leather sandals. “Your, um, armour is in the
     back storeroom. Through there, yes, that way.” She flapped her hand toward a
     door.
    Lopex led her around the yard, transforming us one by one. Once again, I didn’t
     feel the transition, but suddenly I was standing naked, my bare feet and hands
     in the muck of the yard, while she furnished me with clothes, including a pair
     of sandals like those she gave Adelphos. As a slave I wasn’t supposed to have
     them, but Lopex had given me some when he had made me healer, and Ury hadn’t
     thought to revoke them.
    “That’s it, men. Let’s go,” Lopex barked in his usual fashion, waving us
     toward the door.
    “Go?” she repeated, trailing behind him into the cottage. “Already? But . . . I
     thought perhaps . . .”
    “Not possible.” He shook his head, sounding gruff. “I’m
     responsible for these men. I must chart our route home, find provisions for
     them, ensure the wounded—”
    “Provisions?” she broke in eagerly. “Oh, but I can help you with all that! I do
     have powers, you know. And your course, I can help you chart a course home. I
     can even tell you of dangers, the dangers you will meet on the way.”
    Lopex paused. “I