Two Pieces of Tarnished Silver by Unknown Page A

deliberately, Korm withdrew his slender blade from its scabbard. “And if you don’t, we’re going to have to kill you.”
    Juval threw back its medusa head in a wicked laugh. “You do remind me of him, Korm Calladan. Curious and confident to the point of recklessness. You came here, to a world I command to face off with a creature older than your race’s eldest empire. And you come in the company of a lout and an addict, wielding nothing but an unmagicked blade.”
    “I object!” said Korm. “Aebos is far from a lout.”
    “Even in the face of certain death you remain jovial. Just like him. But Durvin Gest never returned from his final adventure. By now he must be centuries dead.”
    Behind Juval, the burning manor exploded in a bright conflagration. As the fire cloud lifted, it left behind no sign that the home had ever been there at all. Korm suspected a similar transformation was now taking place in the ship’s dining room on the other side of the lens.
    “I no longer believe in exceptional humans,” said Juval. “The age of the human is over. The form has expired its appeal. I thought a shapechanger would cure the ennui of my imprisonment, and in truth I will miss it. But I find myself limited to only forms I have inhabited before. A shapechanger will come again. In ten years’ time I can even demand one from Iranez, or again Nex’s waters will fall still.
    “But I may never get another chance at a cyclops.”
    The medusa fell slack and slumped to the ground, its cheek slamming into the edge of a step with a dull thud. While the body itself remained motionless, the details of its appearance undulated and rippled. The brown linen garment lost definition and melded with the body beneath, which grew increasingly gaunt and malnourished. Its serpentine scales smoothed even as the tendrils of its hair withdrew into the skull. The feminine face sagged until it resembled the early outlines of a hollow-eyed bust. Its vacuous mouth hung crooked and low. It was no longer a medusa.
    “I think I understand now why Durvin Gest might have chosen Juval as a companion.”
    It was no longer Juval. Korm turned to Aebos to shout a warning, only to realize that he was too late. His friend was down on one knee, bent over and struggling to steel himself against some unseen assault. As the swordsman rushed to his side, Aebos slackened his shoulders and sighed. Korm placed his hand upon his companion’s arm. Aebos turned to him.
    “They say that the cyclopes can see the future,” the demon said in Aebos’s voice. An unseen chorus echoed the words. “I wonder if your cyclops ever saw himself with his hands around the throat of his most trusted ally?”
    Juval grabbed for Korm, a wicked smile upon its face, murder in its single eye. Korm rolled along the outside of Juval’s attack in a move that always confounded Aebos in their many sparring sessions. But the cyclops was no longer Aebos, and Juval seemed prepared for his dodge. It spun to meet Korm’s movement, swinging its forearm in a clothesline strike that swept Korm off his feet and put him on his back upon the ground.
    Juval looked down at the swordsman and opened its mouth for some further insult, only to double over at the waist, clutching its arms to its stomach. Korm saw anger and confusion on his friend’s face. “The form of the cyclops,” Juval muttered with difficulty, “it burns! The pain is intolerable!”
    Juval fell to both knees and moaned. Korm scrambled away from the demon and got to his feet. It crushed him to see Aebos in so much pain, but he reminded himself that the demon was not Aebos at all. Creeg had said that Juval pushed aside the spirits of the forms it inhabited, so the best he could hope for at the moment was that whatever plagued Juval so terribly had no effect upon his friend. Juval clawed at its stomach, trying to tear a hole in Aebos’s leather armor to get at the source of the pain within. From between the demon’s outstretched