"Hey, Lemma?" Iason asked.

"What's up?" I replied, grateful for the break from the monotony of walking through the hills. The unending, sparse, rocky, endless, barren, stony, infinite, lifeless--look, point is, I had had a lot of time over the past several days to come up with synonyms for how fucking empty these hills were and how long they went on, and on, and on, and...

"Are you sure this is the way to the next book?"

"Gee, I dunno, do you think maybe after leading us to book after book I have some idea what I'm doing at this point?"

"Right, I know, just... are you sure sure?"

I sighed. "Do you think I'd be walking us through these stupid boring hills if I wasn't?"

"Yeah, true," said Iason.

"Ha! Not a question! I win!"

"Huh?"

"What, you think you can challenge me so quickly after your defeat?"

Comprehension dawned on Iason's face. "Oh! I get it!"

"Ha! I win again!"

"We're nearly there," interrupted Iola.

I rounded on her. "How do you know that?"

"How do you think?" she asked.

"I don't know, seeing as I'm the one with the book-sensing powers. That's why I asked!"

A slow smile spread across Iola's features. "I win," she said.

Why that cheating little--

"We are nearly there, though," she repeated, "right?"

"Are we still playing the game?" I asked warily.

"No," Iola assured me.

"Ha! I win! And yes, we are, and I'm still waiting for you to tell me how you know."

Iola pointed. "There's a fishing village just over that hill. That's usually where we find the books, around people."

"Okay, so then how'd you know the village was there?"

"Same way Iason did," Iola said, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed. "We know it's there because we grew up here. That village is our home town."

Iardanos, apparently, that was the name of the town. A little fishing village nestled between two hills and the sea, exactly the kind of place I normally hate.

But not today.

Oh, it was small and boring and stank of fish, don't get me wrong. But it had something no other village in the world had, something which I planned to exploit mercilessly for my amusement: Iason and Iola's mother.

More importantly, Iason and Iola's mother's doubtlessly vast supply of incredibly embarrassing stories about them as children. I was practically cackling with glee as we descended on their house, while the two of them trudged along behind me, completely aware of the horrors they were about to experience.

I was surprised by how little their house was. I guess I just assumed that, what with the expensive armor and the virtually priceless sword, they'd be rich. And I guess they sort of were--but after spending everything on swords and armor, there apparently wasn't much left for house. It was a pretty typical peasant hut, to be honest--but it was clean, and the straw mats on the floor were fresh.

A woman sat in the corner, winding flax on a spindle. She looked like someone had crossed a middle-aged version of Iason with a dumpling, just an utterly adorable little round old woman who could not possibly be anyone other than his mother.

"Hello," she said calmly. "Welcome home, children. Who's your friend?"

Iason and Iola glanced at each other. Something was wrong. I couldn't be sure, but I guessed (correctly, of course) that that wasn't the reaction they were expecting after years of absence.

"Mother, are you feeling all right?" asked Iola awkwardly.

"Oh, quite all right dear," she said. "It's good to have you home, but as you can see I'm quite busy."

Again they gave each other that look. "Um," said Iason, "you could maybe take a break for a minute so we could say hello?"

"Oh my no," their mother replied. Just like that--spaced out, almost monotone, shocked words but that same strange calm voice. "Work before play, always, children."

Iason and Iola were starting to look very worried. I decided to pull out the heavy guns. "Hello," I said. "I'm Lemma, your daughter-in-law."

"Oh?" she replied. "So Iason married? That's lovely. I'm pleased to meet you, Lemma."

Wow. Nothing? "So, uh, Mother..." I began.

"Please," she said, "call me Ianthe."

Ianthe, Iason, and Iola from the village of Iardanos. Methinks I detect a pattern. "Right, um, Ianthe. I'd love to hear about Iason's childhood. Do you have any stories?" What parent could resist the opportunity to tell embarrassing stories about their children to their children's significant others? As far as I could tell, that was literally the only fun part of the entire parental thing!

"Not now, dear. There's much work to do before the sun goes down."

Wow.

The three of us huddled outside the hut. "What the hell was that, Lemma?" Iason demanded.

"Just trying to get a reaction out of her," I said. "Didn't work, obviously."

"Yeah," he agreed. "What's going on here? That is not our mother!"

"Maybe she's angry at us for being gone so long?" Iola asked.

"Nah, Dad was gone for seven years when we were kids, hunting the tree-drake, remember? She threw him a party when he got home!"

"True," said Iola. "Maybe one of the neighbors knows?"

We checked the neighboring huts, but it was all the same: women weaving or spinning, taking care of children or making food. There was no trace of the men--asking the women resulted in vague comments about them being out to sea or off hunting. Which, okay, fishing village, but what was causing every woman to be the one to stay at home and every man to head off? The Sea People weren't like the Tin Islanders, with their weird notions of "men's work" and "women's work." The Sea People had woman warriors and sailors and hunters, one was standing right next to me! 

"Yes, I noticed that too," said Iola, gesturing at the hut we'd just left. "Iona here was a fisherwoman when I was last home. Now she's weaving like all the others. It's like the Tin Islands followed us here."

I shuddered. "Don't say that! Never say that!"

Iason looked down at the docks. "Maybe the shrine?"

Iola nodded. "Iakona might know something," she agreed.

They explained who that was on the way down to the shore: something like a cross between village elder and priest, he led the ceremonies to worship the gods, settled disputes, that sort of thing. It seemed as likely a lead as any.

We found him in the one stone building I'd seen in the entire town, a simple raised stone platform a few feet across, with a roof held up by pillars, and an altar in the middle, where a man was kneeling and praying.

"Iakon?" Iason asked, but the man didn't answer, just kept chanting.

"Iakon," Iola repeated more firmly, but he held up a hand and kept right on chanting.

Finally, after several minutes of this, he stood and turned toward us. He was a tall man, nearly as tall as Iason, and had similar dark, curly hair, with touches of gray at the temples. His face was still unlined, however, and clean shaven. He wasn't as built or as bronzed as Iason, but you could definitely tell they came from the same place. "Iola," he said. "Iason. And you are..?"

"Lemma," I said through clenched teeth, biting back the growing urge to set someone on fire.

"Well, if Iola and Iason think you're a good person, I'm sure you must be, so our village is happy to have you."

"Er," said Iason.

"Well..." said Iola.

Iakon looked back and forth between them. "You are a good person, aren't you?"

I glared at the other two. "Of course I am! I'm always good."

"Good," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish the prayers for the safe return of the fishing boats. There's much work to do before the sun goes down."

We had another huddle outside the shrine. "He said the same thing mother did," Iola said. "About the sun going down."

"Right," Iason. "Word for word exact. That's weird."

"I say we set him on fire and see what he knows."

They stared at me.

"What?" I asked. "You know how much I like setting people on fire!"

"Sure," said Iason, "but usually you at least think they're the bad guy before you do!"

"Wait, is this a book thing?" asked Iola. "Do you sense he has it or something?"

"Not exactly," I admitted. "I just really want to set stuff on fire. Maybe the boats!" I concentrated, feeling the heat build up in my hand.

"Lemma, no!" Iason insisted, grabbing my arm. "We've talked about this, you can't just going around burning random things!"

"Why not?" I asked. "The whole village is obviously cursed or something, it'd be doing them a favor!"

"I doubt they'd see it that way," said Iola. "Besides, we need you to locate the book. It's too much of a coincidence that the town has become so strange and there's a book here."

"Right," said Iason. "So where is it? You can track them all the way down to a single house now, right?"

"Questions, questions!" I snapped. "Enough questions!" I whirled on Iason and hurled a fireball straight into his chest.

All three of us froze while the fireball sputtered against his dragonscale breastplate and fizzled away. Iason looked at me like he was a puppy whose smaller, cuter puppy I'd just kicked.

It made me even angrier, and that was weird. "Something's... wrong." I said slowly.

"Yes, that would be why we've spent the day investigating," Iola responded.

"No, I mean... wronger!" It was so infuriating that they didn't get it. Everything around me was wrong, and all I wanted was to burn it clean.

"I don't understand," said Iason.

"Of course you don't!" I snapped. "You never do! I'm saying that whatever's going on here is starting to affect me, too!"

"Are you sure?" asked Iola. "Your behavior is rather... different."

"Arrrgghh!" I groaned. "Yes, you stupid, useless lumps! It's gotta be the same thing, it's screwing up everything! Look, forget it, just get out of my way. I'll burn the whole village and pick the book out of the ashes."

"Lemma, no!" Iason repeated. "You're not yourself, you need to stop this now."

"Or what?" I snarled.

He drew his sword. "I'm not going to let you burn my home," he replied.

"Oh, that is it!" I raised my hands, gathering magical force. "This has been a long time coming!"

Then my head hurt, and I was on the ground. I looked up to see Iola standing over me, and then the last thing I remember is thinking, That bitch hit me!

And then, darkness.

I woke up alone, with a headache. It was dark; I must have been out for hours.

I sat up slowly, but I didn't seem to be dizzy or anything; Iola must not have done any real damage. I was glad.

Okay, that's odd. Why am I not mad with her?

I stood up and went outside. It was a cloudless, moonless night, bursting with stars. I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. I wasn't angry at all; in fact, I felt incredibly relaxed. This was definitely whatever weird magic was affecting the village. The villagers probably all felt like this all the time.

I wondered if they realized how lucky they were, and I couldn't be sure if it was me thinking that, or magic. It was in my head, twisting my feelings, and I couldn't be angry about it. I couldn't want to be angry about it. All I could want--all it would let me want--was to give in to it, to let it do whatever it wanted to me.

And that thought was unbearably hot.

I started walking. I'd denied it for so long, pretended it wasn't true, but I couldn't anymore. The spell wouldn't let me. Just like the dragon had told me, I wanted this. I loved this. And while I might once have lied to myself, told myself I was going after the books because I had a mission to collect them, the truth was I wanted whoever was casting this spell to do more. I wanted him--and I hoped it was a him, but in the end it wouldn't really matter--to control me, to change me, to use me. I wanted him to own my mind and body. I wanted him to take them, to take me.

I found him in a grotto a few hundred yards down the shore from the docks. He had the book, of course, and he was studying it by the light of a little driftwood fire.

"Hello," I said.

He jumped and scrambled back. "Stay away!" he warned. Not exactly the reaction a girl wants from a prospective master.

"Please don't make me go." Begging. Me, begging. It was amazing.

He hesitated. "Are you..? You mean you're... normal?"

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," I said huskily. "Whatever you make me be."

"Okay, so you're just as horny as all the others, but still. No trace of aggression or defiance..." He seemed to come to a decision. "Come here."

I hesitated, and to my disappointment found that I could. Whatever the magic was doing, it wasn't making me obey him. Still, I walked over to him.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, showing me the book.

I nodded. "Magical Contracts and Geas," I said. "Volume Nine."

"I thought you might. You're Lemurian, aren't you?"

I nodded again.

"Is that why the spell seems to be having a reverse effect on you? Some kind of protective magic gone awry?"

I blinked. "Reverse effect?"

"Yes," he said. "Everyone else, it seems to have turned them into good, hardworking folk during the day, and wild, wicked wantons every night. But you're... you are good, aren't you?"

That was why I was so angry earlier! Once the spell took effect, it turned me into some kind of evil version of myself! "I'll be a good girl," I agreed. "Especially if you make me be one."

"That's the goal," he said, and I shivered. "Help me," he continued. "Help me figure out what went wrong, and how to fix it so they're good all the time."

I smiled and took the book. "Geas aren't exactly my strong suit," I admitted. "But..." Flipping through the book, I found what we needed and helped him put together the spell.

The spell that was going to make me his slave, helplessly obedient to his will. I knew, intellectually, that it was a bad idea. Somewhere deep inside me, there had to be a part of me that was screaming at me to stop, to resist, to fight back. But I couldn't hear her. All I could hear was his voice, in my imagination, ordering me to strip, to kneel, to suck and fuck. Once this spell I was helping him cast was complete, I would have no choice but to obey.

I didn't really have any choice now. I was a good girl, and that meant listening, helping, obeying, while I got wetter and wetter as I closed the trap around myself.

And then it was done. "Once you cast this," I said, trembling, "and I agree to it, I'll be completely under your control. I won't be able to even think for myself. You'll own me, body, mind, and soul."

He nodded.

"You'll be able to use me however you want," I went on. "No matter what it is, I'll do it. Annnything at all."

"Lemma," he said slowly. "Are you implying something?"

"I'm saying I'll be your good girl. Your slave. Your sexual plaything." I should be frustrated that he wasn't getting it, but it was so hot that I couldn't be.

"Oh!" he said. "Oh, I... hadn't thought of that." He paused a moment, and then... cast the spell. "Do you agree to obey?" he asked when it was fully formed.

"Yes," I breathed, barely able to contain my excitement. I felt the magic in the air around us, felt it sink into me... and then nothing. I didn't feel any different at all.

"Come here and... uh, I don't know, kiss me, I suppose?" he said.

Without thinking about it, I flowed into his arms and kissed him passionately. I had no say, no control. "Oh, fuck yes," I said, and kissed him again.

"Kneel," he commanded, and I did, automatically. It was incredible. I'd finally admitted what I really wanted, and now I had it: for what I wanted to stop mattering. 

He pulled his cock out, and I whimpered at the sight of it. I ached to show my new master what a good little cocksucker I was. I could feel my cunt dripping at the thought of being ordered to suck, of yet another helpless act of obedience.

Finally, finally, after an eternal few seconds, he said those three beautiful words that I longed to hear: "Suck my cock."

Hands behind my back--he hadn't ordered me to touch!--I leaned forward, eyes locked on his the whole time. Slowly I slid my lips down around him and flicked my tongue over the bulb.

"Ohh," he groaned, grabbing the crown of my head. "Good girl!"

The words echoed in my head. I was a good girl, a good obedient girl, a good obedient cocksucking girl. I redoubled my efforts, sucking his cock with every ounce of skill I had.

It wasn't long before he ordered me to stop and strip. He laid me out on my back on the cold, dirty grotto floor, and I loved it. As he knelt between my spread legs, it didn't matter that he'd barely touched me. I couldn't say no, and that was enough to make me dripping and ready, aching with need, whatever tiny shreds of my will might have been left melting and flowing out of my pussy.

I came the moment he entered me, and as I shuddered and clutched at him I screamed his name: "Master!"

I came again when he did. Afterwards, he held me possessively and explained what he'd been trying to accomplish. Then Master took me again, and we both came again, before we finally fell asleep.

I woke up to find sunlight streaming into the mouth of the grotto. I groaned and extricated myself from his arms, careful not to wake him. I dressed, and then, after a moment's hesitation, I grabbed the book as well.

I bubbled with rage as I stormed my way back to town. It was fucking obvious what happened: I was the good Lemma, all the best bits: fire and rule-breaking and anger and confidence. But at night I turned into... okay, not the bad bits, I don't have bad bits, but the... less good bits. The bits that held me back. Most importantly, the bit that the dragon had forced me to admit to, the bit that liked when idiot amateur enchanters with only one spell book got me in their clutches.

Urrgghh! I should've burned that asshole's face off the minute I woke up!

But I couldn't. The geas my evi-- my other side had agreed to was still holding. I was his, much as I hated it.

"Lemma!" Iason called, running over to me. "When you weren't in the hut this morning, we thought--"

"Yeah," I snapped. "Where were you last night?"

"We saw mom leaving, so we followed her. She went up into the hills with the rest of the town, and..." Iason shuddered.

"It was not, in hindsight, a good plan," said Iola.

"Quit dodging around! What happened!?" Gods, were they always this annoying?

"...the whole town stripped down, lit a bonfire, got drunk, and..." Iason trailed off.

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, I get it, you saw your mom at an orgy. Oooh, so gross. Will you focus or do I have to set you on fire again?"

"So you're still under the spell, clearly," said Iola. "I see you found the book, did you learn anything to help us break the spell?"

"Obviously not, or I would have already broken it!"

"So none of us found out anything useful? Last night was for nothing?" Iason looked stricken. Good. He fucking deserved it.

"I didn't say that," I said. "I figured out what's happening." Ugh, I can't believe I can't just burn everyone, but I need these fuckers because of this stupid geas! "Someone fucked up a geas. They were trying to get people to be good, but this shit-for-brains didn't tell them about the geas first, just tried to trick them into agreeing to it. It doesn't work that way, even a first-year student wizard knows that. They agreed to the geas, so it worked, but they didn't agree to the geas, so it didn't."

"Oh!" Iason punched his left hand with his right fist. "Of course! It made everyone good during the day and evil at night!"

Iola nodded. "During the day the villagers are dutiful, obedient, conventional, and then at night they're wild, uninhibited, and self-indulgent."

"Okay," said Iason, "but then why isn't Lemma good during the day?"

"I AM GOOD!" I exploded, very nearly literally. As it was, I scorched the ground for a good three feet around me, forcing Iason to jump back.

Iason turned to Iola. "If this is the good Lemma, I think we're lucky we missed the bad one."

"I think the village is lucky," Iola replied. "To still be here."

"I think the world is lucky," Iason corrected.

"Shut up!" I could feel the sparks fizzing in my hair, the wind rising around me. Somebody was going to burn, and soon.

"Wait," said Iola slowly. "Why did people change jobs? All the men fish and hunt now, all the women doing domestic stuff..."

"...because they're doing what they're told," Iason said, just as slowly. "Because the sea god is a god, and the hearth goddess is a goddess, and they're so obedient and dutiful now that they can't think straight!"

"And Lemma started acting weird..."

"Right after she told Iakona she'd be good!" Iason finished.

"Finally! I've been waiting all damn day for you to figure it out!"

"You already knew? You could have just told us," said Iason.

"No, she couldn't have," said Iola. "Could you?" she asked me. "After all... you're under his control right now, aren't you?"

"Ahh, there we go," I said with a grin. "You've got the whole deal, and now you're going to try to kill my master and set me free. But I'll kill you first!" I released all the pent-up angry magic I'd been holding in for, like, minutes, a massive wave of surging, white-hot energy.

Iason caught it on his sword, which sucked it up hungrily.

"Fuck," I said. "That was impressive." Which just made me angrier. I struck at him with another bolt of flame, and another, and he just kept intercepting them with his sword. Still, he was slowly moving back while I advanced. I had him on the run!

And I had a surprise waiting for the right moment. A lightning spell, even if his sword absorbed the magic, would still flow along the sword like, well, lightning on a big pointy iron stick. It wouldn't be able to absorb all of it before some got into Iason, and that should throw him off enough for me to blast a fiery hole through his skull. I just had to wait for the right moment, get him into a pattern of using the sword, because if he caught it on its armor it wouldn't be anywhere near as effective.

That was it, back him up, get him into position, and... now..!

Iola hit me on the back of the head, again, and my lightning bolt crackled up into the sky.

For the second night in a row, I woke up in Iola and Iason's mother's hut. But this time, I wasn't alone: all of them were here too, fast asleep.

And I wasn't peacefully relaxed and devoid of anger, and I wasn't consumed with murderous rage. I also wasn't anybody's slave. I was just... me, again.

I grinned triumphantly. It had worked. Good Lemma had been just as bound by the geas as Good Girl Lemma, but Good Lemma was mad about it, and pushed back. She'd realized--I'd realized--that I couldn't tell Iola and Iason that Iakona was behind it all, but if I took the book, they'd ask questions. And if they asked the right ones... well, as soon as I knew for sure they were going after him, I'd have to stop them.

But Good Lemma was too angry to be strategic, and fell for the same damn trick twice. I'd been pretty sure Good Me wasn't as good a fighter as normal me, and they outnumbered me; it was a gamble, but it worked. And then, presumably, they found Iakona and stuck the sharp end in the squishy bits. He hadn't known to write the geas down, so the only source it had was him. Once he died, the whole town was freed.

I looked down at the sleeping Iason and Iola and prepared two very small lightning spells. I wasn't going to kill them--they didn't deserve that!--but there was no way they were getting away with clonking me on the head twice. They were definitely getting punished.

Kzzap!