bare-breasted.”
That would do it, he agreed. I have gotten used to Eris in bare human form, but new breasts would catch me unprepared. I thought she appeared rather suddenly.
Meanwhile Meryl was disrobing and packing her clothing. She spread her wings and lifted from the ground. “I will track you,” she called as she sailed up into the sky.
“Agreed,” Wenda called back as she put her feet on the petals. The bike moved smoothly forward.
Actually I do admire her form, Jumper thought.
“But it doesn’t freak you out.”
Correct. My natural form provides me some objectivity about human things.
Castle Roogna was a reasonable distance away, but Wenda was sure they would make good progress. She loved traveling like this: swiftly and smoothly, and with compatible company. If only she didn’t have these foolish notions. Like resenting what a princess did with a friend.
You could have seduced me too, if you had tried, Jumper thought. But I’m glad you didn’t try. I’d rather just be your friend.
And just like that, her trace of jealousy dissipated. She had forgotten that his new telepathy meant that he was reading her thoughts. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Welcome.
They did make good progress, but did not quite reach Castle Roogna before the day expired. Wenda consulted with her Companions, and they agreed to camp for the night.
Wenda pulled her bike into the camp. Meryl dropped down from the sky. Jumper jumped out of Wenda’s hair, becoming giant-spider sized.
“Eeeeek!!” Meryl screamed, managing five E’s and two exclamation points. She was evidently upset. “A big hairy spider!”
“It’s just Jumper,” Wenda told her. “In giant-spider form. So we can see him, and not step on him.”
“I’m afraid he’ll eat me!”
It seemed it would take a while for Meryl to get used to Jumper in this form. “Maybe you’d better assume manform,” Wenda suggested.
Jumper became a man. And promptly freaked out.
“Maybe you’d better put your clothing on,” Wenda suggested to Meryl.
“What about him?” the mermaid demanded. “Now he’s a big hairy bare man.”
“I will dress him,” Wenda said, quickly unpacking Jumper’s clothing.
Soon both Companions were clothed and able to relate to each other. Form and clothing made all the difference.
They went to the shelter. There were two human beds and a pile of hay. But there were three of them.
“I don’t need a bed,” Jumper said. “I can resume spider form.”
But Meryl was already trying to stifle a burgeoning eeek. She wasn’t ready to share lodging with a giant spider.
“I still don’t need a bed,” Jumper said. “I’ll sleep on the hay in human form.”
That seemed to be a reasonable compromise. Already Wenda was coming to appreciate the complications of having Companions.
They washed in the local lake, taking turns so that neither Jumper nor Meryl would freak out. They harvested pies and milkweed pods for supper.
Then there was a whirring as a small bird flew in and landed. “Cheep!” he exclaimed, seeing them.
“We were here first,” Meryl informed the bird. “Go perch on a branch.”
But the bird refused to settle. He stood on the ground and continued cheeping at them. What did he want?
“The gift of tongues,” Jumper said. “You gave it to me, Wenda, and it made all the difference. Can you get some for him, so he can tell us what’s on his mind?”
Wenda hurried into the forest. She quickly found a clump of the tonguelike plants, and harvested a small one. She brought it back and offered it to the bird.
The bird took it into his beak. “Thank you, woodwife,” he said. “That’s what I need.”
“Who are you, and what is your business here?” she asked.
“I am Dipper Swimming Bird. I fly, run, and swim. The Good Magician sent me to join your party.”
“He sent you!” Wenda exclaimed, surprised. “Why?”
“I asked him how I could get meaning in my life. He told me to become one of your