are worth thirty times earnings. But, in every instance, there are somewhat fewer than are claimed. More women wear white on their wedding day than bleed on their wedding night...."
She looked at him. This was leading somewhere, but was it leading anywhere *this week*?
"... And more wear black at midnight than can cast the simplest spell. If someone claims sorcerer status, you ask how sorcerers behave."
"And how is that?"
"For the most part, they don't claim sorcerer status without good immediate reason. A man who claims to hold sorcerous power is a fool or a liar or, quite possibly, both. Magic owns some people; no one owns magic. Read the Old Testament. Did the prophets go around making things happen for their comfort or prestige? Not often. Their most frequent question was 'Why me?' So a mage. Meeting a sorcerer is possible this eve, meeting a sorceress is more likely, but magic requires neither. Look at your feet."
When she did, she saw them in worn leather sandals. Her companion was wearing sandals of a different sort, with bindings running up his bare calves. For that matter, his walking stick now had a metal spearhead; he was dressed in a dark cloak with the hilt of a sword sticking above his left shoulder. His hair now swept his shoulders and his beard covered the top part of his chest. His torso was covered by a sleeveless, coarse-woven, black tunic which fell to his knees.
She checked herself for other changes. Her hair was held by a clasp rather than a rubber band, and that clasp was in the middle of her back -- about where her bra clasp had been. The ends of the hair brushed her hips. Her dress, still green, was now little more than a cloth draped under one shoulder and clasped over the other. Her spring coat, once a much lighter shade of green, was now a heavy cloak the precise shade of her dress.
"Did you do that?"
"Magic did that," he answered. "This place is magical. Enjoy it!"
She shuddered for a moment. "This seems a good time for panic," she said. "Why aren't I panicking?"
"Much too late. Here we are." Several guards suddenly confronted them. They seemed nervous about Prof's weaponry, but they passed them through when he showed them a token.
A very narrow crack between two rocks cleaned them of any diseases as they passed through single-file. There were skulls on the rocks above them.
"Did you see those skulls?" she asked as they descended a steep slope. As they walked downward, the air around them grew warmer. The change was welcome. Her clothes were of thicker cloth, but they seemed to let more of the chill air in.
"Spammers, apparently. Curious. I wouldn't have thought spammers among the craniates. They must be more evolved in their anatomy than in their behavior."
There were several clusters of people in the valley. They were dressed in a wide variety of clothing, but no one else seemed to have been given primitive garb such as they had, and Susan suddenly doubted Prof's denial of any involvement with that transformation.
Understandably, the group didn't much notice their approach at first. Scattered over the field were several couples and a threesome variously engaged sexually. To their right one woman was announcing her approaching climax as her partner stroked steadily within her. Those standing, and even some of the participating pairs, gave this couple their full attention. Suddenly, the man's motions sped. His shout echoed her scream. He thrust arhythmically for a moment and collapsed over her. People deliberately turned aside to allow them some privacy.
Several of these spotted Prof.
The group turned towards them, looking puzzled -- if not particularly frightened -- by Prof's warlike attire. "I think that might be Uther," said one.
"It might," said Prof. Then he noticed two toddlers. "Keda!" he called. "Thomas!"