Jack L. Chalker Changewinds 3 War of the Maelstrom

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less pleasant and a lot harder to take, I fear, but this is the sort of person
needed to stand up to the challenges ahead.''
It was late afternoon when Sam finally woke, after the best sleep she could
remember having in a very long time. Her old memories, her complete self, was
back, but she didn't think about that past too much because it wasn't all that
pleasant. In fact, it was almost an alien past, really; she could hardly
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believe how fucked up in the head she'd been all her life.
A fragment of a Golden Oldie song from that past rumbled through her mind,
though, and she found herself humming it.
You cm't please everyone, so you gotta please yourself.
Not, however, that she was particularly thrilled with the situation as it now
stood. Now that she finally felt comforta-
bly at peace with herself, she wanted to go out and pick up her life and do
things and see things and enjoy that life. but her changed attitude towards
herself hadn't changed the situation at all.
She was still a fugitive, still lined up for a battle she didn't really know
much about or what was expected of her or how to fight it, and she was still
pregnant to boot and none of that had changed.
Oddly, it was the pregnancy that dominated her thoughts.
She preferred to think that she got knocked up that first time, when it was
her own will and choice, and that this was no rapist's child, but it didn't
really matter. The kid was still a kid no matter what the father had been.
The crazy thing was, in spite of it all, she liked the idea that she was going
to have a baby- She wanted mat child
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 67
more than she had ever wanted anything in her whole life, but it stuck her
between a rock and a hard place. If she didn't go into this fully, if she
didn't face down this Storm Princess and beat her at her own game, then the
child had very little future and she even less of one. She wasn't scared for
herself, but what if it came down to victory or the child? That slimy, homed
bastard always knew the weak points in anybody's armor, and it was a real
concern.
But everybody had weak points. Even this guy Klittichorn must have them, or he
wouldn't have had to take so long and be so sneaky to get to this point. Maybe
the trick wasn't to dwell on the weak points but just try and cover them as
much as you could and instead concentrate on your strengths. Or maybe use the
weakness the child inside gave her incentive to win, a motivation to dominate
those forces that threatened
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0-%20War%20of%20the%20Maelstrom.txt her. Frankly, she wanted to take on her
opposite number right now. one on one, and get it over with, but that wasn't
the way things worked.
Damn it, I need a gynecologist, not a green-robed sorcerer, she though sourly.
Etanalon was different she was kind of a shrink, and she certainly was at
least as effective as any of the shrinks back home. She just didn't make any
bones about working voodoo and doing it with mirrors, that was all. This was
different.
She sighed, pulled on the old dress, and wandered into the main house. Baths
were few and far between here, but at least breakfast was still breakfast.
"I wish you would join with us," she heard Crim saying, presumably to
Etanalon. She walked into the living room and saw the two of them sitting
there, talking.
"At the moment no," the sorceress responded. "I have retired from all that.
Someone else must save the world once in a while. I'm tired and pretty welt
disgusted with the affairs of kings and back-room magicians. Grotag had a
meeting just the other day to press for a united front against Boolean, who he
is convinced is the really dangerous one. Many of the others who are still
sane enough to care agree with him." She broke off the line of conversation
and turned to Sam. "Well, hello! How are you feeling?"
"All right, I guess," Sam replied. "Not as ready to take on the world as
yesterday, and maybe a little over-tired, I
68 fack L Chalker dunno. At least now I know that the reason I been feelin' so
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weak and washed out lately is the kid. Any chance of getting something to eat?
I'll fix it if you tell me where all the stuff is."
Etanalon chuckled. "No need. Sit there in the chair and just think of what
you're most in the mood to eat."
Sam sat, and it wasn't hard to come up with a vision of breakfast, even if it
was late in the afternoon. Lots of hot cakes, melted butter, real sausages,
maybe with some fruit and powdered sugar, with a pitcher of orange juice,
fresh squeezed. It had been a long, long time since she'd had a real breakfast
like that.
Suddenly, in front of her, was a stand-alone tray with dishes containing just
exactly what she'd dreamed of. It was a startling appearance, and she jumped,
almost spoiling it by knocking it over. "Hey!" she shouted in surprise.
"Relax," Etanalon told her. "There are several advantages to being a
sorceress. No shopping, cooking, cleaning, dusting
unless you want to. Go ahead it's real. You bite it. it doesn't bite you."
Sam stared at it for a moment, though. In all the time she'd been in Akahlar,
she'd seen demonic spells and mystic po-
tions and strange and magical creatures, but she had never until this moment
truly seen flat-out magic. The smell of the
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