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“Where’s your whiskey?” she asked in a bright tone, then scooted behind the screen to fetch it. Handing it to me, she clinked her glass against mine. “To the new improved you!”
I joined her in the toast, grateful for the change of subject. I savored the whiskey and studied myself in the mirror to get my new appearance firmly in my head. Wouldn’t want to accidentally blur it by thinking of myself in an old way.
“Will it last forever?”
“It should, unless I change it. Things that are close to me, that are constantly in my attention, are much more likely to persist. It’s harder to make something I’m not around last in any permanent way. But then, I haven’t gotten to experiment with it much.”
Rogue could do it—those chamber pots, I suddenly recalled. Maybe he had bespelled those.
“Hmm.” Starling sipped at her glass, looking at my hair enviously.
“Why? You want me to change your hair, too?”
“Yes!” She pounced, sloshing her wine. “Can you? Would you? Even if it only lasts until you ride away, it would be worth it.”
I loved it—I acquired magical abilities and I was using them for makeovers. Clive would have been disgusted by the girly behavior. My mom would have been the first in line. My heart throbbed, thinking of her now. How long had I been gone? And Isabel, what had become of her? It killed me that she might think I’d abandoned her. A quiet tide of grief surged under the enamel shell of my careful control.
“Can you picture the kind of hair you want—if you don’t mind me looking at the image in your head?”
Starling nodded eagerly and folded her hands around her wineglass, closing her eyes as if in prayer. She looked so studious, so serious. We all prayed for our heart’s desire. It was a mistake to think that had to be something profound and huge. Very few people really thought of world peace first, in my experience.
I touched my fingertips to her temples as a courtesy, flashed on the night I’d touched Rogue this way and crushed the thought. I dipped lightly into Starling’s mind, bright with restless ideas and longings. There on top was the image of the little neighbor girl, long-limbed and ethereal. Attached to it were various sorrows of not belonging, not being good enough. Of failure. I focused on the way the hair looked, like gold embroidery floss, sunlight in spider silk, and carefully stripped away the negative feelings. She didn’t need any more of that.
It was easy to find the spark for it—Starling fed me that in spades.
I waited.
“Okay, look and see if it’s right.”
Starling’s eyes popped open. I expected her to whirl around, perhaps squealing, to admire herself in the mirror. Instead she blinked at me, took a breath and cautiously turned, peeking over her shoulder at her reflection. Tears welled up in her dark eyes, threatening to spill over.
“Is it right?” I asked her. “I changed it very slightly, so it wouldn’t look like a little girl’s hair so much.”
Starling nodded. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.
“Do you want to change your eyes, too? Though I think this combination looks great—my mom always said she thought the brown-eyed blondes had the prettiest coloring.”
Starling shook her head. Nodded. Then laughed and gulped down the rest of her wine. The golden hair shimmered softly around her face, brushing her shoulders in a thick paintbrush fringe. Her lightly tanned skin and freckles took on a warmer glow.
“It’s perfect,” she repeated, not noticing how I flinched at the word. “I’m going to savor every moment of it. It’s the first time I’ve been pleased to look in the mirror. Now, what do I owe you?”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Can it just be a gift?” I tried.
Starling looked horrified. Not the best option.
“Yes, of course,” she said, “but…”
“Never mind,” I hastened to reassure her to her obvious relief. She’d been prepared to pay whatever it took when she asked me for the favor, though. And here I didn’t know what to ask for. A big part of me still quailed at asking for anything. I thought back to the banquet. “What do you propose?”
“A month of service. After I’m legal.”
“That seems like a lot for an overnight hairdo.” I wasn’t going to ask what “being legal” meant or how long it would take.
She looked again and blew herself a kiss. “I don’t care if it’s gone in the morning when you ride away. Do you agree?”
“Yes. But I don’t think it’ll happen like that.” I took a moment to survey myself in the green gown. It seemed to fit nicely, though a bit loose over the hips. Rehab and fat camp, all in one brutal engagement. “Of course, I can’t see what happens after I’ve left a place, but I’m pretty sure it’ll just gradually revert back to what you’re used to. Especially if that’s what you’re expecting.”
