The wind blew hard enough to push the two travelers around and kick up dust from the road. They were lucky to have even a dirt track. Azalea tried not to complain but kept stopping to shake the dust off her tan fur. Marcus used one such stop as an excuse to brush her down himself and force a grin from her. "I smell the sea; we're close."

She stretched and wagged her cute canine tail. "We'll need a cover for the cargo on the way back. Can't have it getting seasoned with road dirt." She glanced toward her backpack, where her spellbook was weighing her down. "Maybe magic would help."

"Or a tarp."

Azalea snorted. "I need excuses to practice."

Soon they skirted a hill and came to the seaside town of Scalebright. Unlike much of the forbidding, rocky coast of the continent, sand covered the grey rocks and people splashed in the water instead of only braving it in boats. Marcus walked on and said, "Might be a good place to learn to swim."

"You never learned?" she said. "How did I not know this by now? Though I do remember you struggling in that river last month."

Marcus counted on his clawtips. "Let's see. We fought a tiger made of fire, got caught in a rockslide, and banished the Razor Wind for another year --"

"The ritual should be good for two or three years. Still need to help the kingdom find a permanent fix."

"But we never had to do anything especially deadly in the water."

She said, "And now you've jinxed it."

He tilted his head. "Are... are jinxes a real thing, then?"

"I don't think so. I've mostly been lucky since meeting you."

They hiked down to the shore. The buildings here were made of that rough grey coastal stone, but with lots of terraces and bridges above the sandy streets. Humans and birdfolk shared the market district with the more aquatic species: otterfolk, a slow-ambling turtle monk, and even a sharkman running a sushi stand. The collie woman and wolf man would fit in well enough.

"This should be easy," Marcus said, looking for the actual fish market. His nose led the way. They ambled through a fountain plaza and found a dockside area where the latest catches were on display.

"Is that a Triple Spiralfish?" asked Azalea, pointing out a bizarre orange-spangled eel thing.

Marcus said, "Might need to bring in our friends for creature lore." The two of them were here as a side mission while the rest of their usual party did work that was probably more important. Namely, conniving their way into a crucial royal banquet.

Their own role was, fetching the fish for that banquet. And maybe the two of them weren't the best qualified for merchant work, but their smooth talker was needed elsewhere.

So Azalea put one elbow on the counter of a burly human fishmonger, only to realize at the last second that it was also his chopping block. She yipped and pulled her arm back, minus a few hairs. The man was just as startled; he'd barely turned his cleaver aside. They looked at each other for a moment and the collie woofed awkwardly. "We're looking for a literal ton of fish to be delivered to the capital in three weeks."

"Well now, I can do that, but salted or smoked? Won't get there intact otherwise."

Azalea's ears perked up again. "I have my ways." Icy preservation was a spell she'd just mastered and had been trying frequently on the way, creating trails of chilly fog and making them both feel stealthy. Marcus shivered.

The fishmonger talked price and quantity. The big order made him amenable on the cost. Finally he said, "All right. Come back after the festival."

"What festival?" asked Marcus.

"Ah, don't you smell it already? The Green Tide will be here by tomorrow. Settle in and enjoy the blessings of the sea's bounty and wisdom!"

Marcus was skeptical about the man as he waved that fish cleaver around with enthusiasm. "I think we'll get a room at the inn, then. There *is* an inn, right?"

"Sure! Try the Ice Drake down that road, or the Pilgrim's Rest if you're short on coin."

Marcus looked at Azalea and shrugged. Their finances were in good shape after an incident with some griffin parents who'd lost their eggs. "You're worth a little extra cash, right?"

"You won't get much for me." She took his arm and they left the fishmonger behind.

#

The Ice Drake Inn was a former warehouse, two stories tall, unimpressive on the outside but for the painted blue dragon. Inside, though, a cold breeze greeted them.

Azalea's ears perked up. "Enchantment! I want to ask how it's done here."

Marcus was glad for his fur. The human guests were wearing coats. He got them a room while she chatted with one of the employees. He asked the innkeeper, "What's the festival, anyway? I figured it'd be more crowded here."

The innkeeper shrugged. "I assumed you knew, since you're here. The ocean spirits bless the town every year. We're still setting up the decorations." He pointed to green streamers that someone was hanging on the walls.

"We're in town for fish. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, it should be fine if you don't mind the fishers taking a day or two off."

Marcus counted days, tapping his clawtips. "The timing should work."

"Great. I can get you a private room."

"Perfect."

#

Marcus and Azalea put their stuff down in an overpriced but comfortable cabin beside the inn. The kitchen had its own hut next door, so they got to smell fish roasting all evening. Marcus wandered off to explore the town while the collie looked for magic tutors, always collecting lessons here and there or selling minor spell-casting.

Scalebright was welcoming compared to other coastal towns that had greeted them with suspicion. There were certainly enough merchants eager for his coins. He browsed a tailor's shop and bought a silky outfit for Azalea inspired by the djinns of the Glass Sands. Maybe not suitable for combat, but he looked forward to seeing her in it.

They'd have trouble again soon enough. The business with the king's banquet involved tracking down a saboteur mage, which required posing as caterers in the palace. Marcus had gotten used to fighting in armor and figured he should practice an unarmored style he might need in the work ahead. Couldn't easily show up for a banquet wearing metal plates, after all, and his team might not be able to smuggle all their equipment in. He grinned. Maybe they'd just stash it in a fish pile.

With that thought in mind he sought out a fighter of some kind. There wasn't an adventurer guild around here, but from asking around he found that the best smith was a weapons specialist. Marcus went looking.

The smithy was its own cottage with a big yard holding the forge, a garden and training dummies. Marcus waved to the rabbit-man banging on a glowing blade. "I hear you know how to use these things and not just make 'em?"

The bunny stuck his work-in-progress back into the furnace. "That I do." He squinted up at Marcus for several seconds and said, "You do a lot of grim work, I bet, but I see hardly a scar on you, at least with these old eyes."

Marcus' tail wagged. "My fiancee's a bit of a healer and we have a few powerful friends." He explained wanting some techniques for unarmored fighting.

"Odd request, but for the right price I can take some time to show you tomorrow."

"Are you a veteran yourself?" asked Marcus. The smith had a notch in one ear and two patches of damaged, whitened fur where healing hadn't quite worked.

The bunny's ears bobbed. "Of war and independent work. I settled down after too close a shave."

They worked out a price for training, and Marcus left happy, feeling he'd made himself useful. He headed back to the inn and relaxed for the evening. When Azalea got back they talked about magic and fish and swords, and ended up dozing in bed together.

She woke him up. The collie had her muzzle on his chest and her eyes were half open. "Something feels different," she said. "Let's go."

He was bleary and there was no sound outside. "Where?"

"Not sure."

Reluctantly Marcus got dressed, leaning against a wall. The tiny window showed darkness. "It's the middle of the night."

She looked tired too, but excited by something. "I want my handsome bodyguard while I look around."

He couldn't say no, so he buckled his sword on in case of trouble. He let her lead the way.

Azalea looked around and held out one palm, making golden sparks dance above her claws. She turned slowly, then marched toward the beach. The village around them was silent and the moon was hidden. A million stars lit their way and shined in reflection on the sea.

The breeze shifted as the two of them approached the beach. Marcus gagged. "Seaweed?"

Azalea sniffed, then stuck her tongue out. "It's not that bad, but yeah. Must be the Green Tide they were talking about."

Nobody else was wandering around this late, but Marcus followed her down to the shore. Sand squished around his boots. "Is it *magical* seaweed?"

"I'm not sure," she said, casting her spark spell again. "Whatever I sensed was powerful enough to wake me."

Each wave brought in strands of slimy kelp in shades from emerald to red and brown but looking like a lawn on the sand. "Where does this stuff come from? It's plants, right?"

Azalea took a driftwood stick and poked the nearest glob. Her tail dusted the sand. "I think so, but I'd have to ask our druid for how it works underwater."

He crouched and studied it too, trying to make himself useful. "Little round bits between the leaves. Maybe those float."

"Could be. I'm not sensing magic to them... hmm." She plopped down cross-legged on the sand and took out her spellbook.

"I didn't even notice you'd brought that. Dark, though."

She mumbled a few words, concentrating, then touched his hand. It began to glow blue-green. "There, now you can help!"

Marcus snorted. He held up two colorful bits of seaweed and said, "Like a stained glass window. Pretty in a way."

She smiled. "Okay, but hold still."

He wrapped his arm around her neck to shine his glowing hand down on her lap. She leaned close and kept reading. "Need more practice to cast anything complex without the book. Think I know what to do, though." She focused on the open pages and began chanting.

He knew better than to interrupt her while casting; she tended to misfire. He waited to see what she had in mind. In a minute she created a faint wave of amber sparks that washed out in an arc in front of her, racing over the beach. The spell crawled out to the water, highlighting the waves...

And a group of vague shapes with glittering eyes, turning to watch them.

Marcus scrambled to his feet and drew his sword, stepping in front of Azalea. "What are those?"

She stood and called out, "Hello?"

The figures in the sea squeaked to each other in a high tone humans wouldn't hear, then made more rhythmic noises in unison. "Spell chanting?" said Azalea.

"Run!" he said, and dragged her along.

A wave of force struck him and flung him to the beach. He blacked out.

#

He woke with a headache and the sound of waves lapping his legs. He groaned, looking for Azalea. She'd landed beside him, her book crashing just above the tideline. Never mind that! He stumbled over to her and shook her.

The collie groaned. "Did we win?"

He rescued her spellbook, then his sword. The sun lurked just below the eastern horizon and nobody else was on the beach yet. "Whatever those things were, I don't see them. Are you hurt?"

"Just my pride. And... my tail?" She reached back to feel it and looked confused. It looked heavier, maybe waterlogged, and the fur was stained brown. She glanced at Marcus and said, "Yours too."

Marcus looked at his own wolf-tail. It wasn't just thicker; it felt flatter, maybe more muscular.

The collie wagged experimentally. Her tail now hung straight down like his, not curled. "Do you remember what happened?"

"A spell, I think. Like a wave that shot out from the critters offshore."

"That's about all I saw, too. We might have a problem."

Marcus said, "This is your department. What do we do?"

They conferred, then walked toward the town's temple. They followed the Earthshaker God here. But the round building of artfully cracked stones also had statues of dolphins reflecting the god's ocean aspect. Marcus and Azalea went in.

The priest on duty had just gotten up. Azalea coughed and her voice cracked as she said, "We've come to warn you. We got attacked by creatures in the water last night."

The human man raised one bushy white eyebrow. "You were swimming?"

"No, on the beach. And then something flung magic at us, and *this* happened." She hefted her tail and wobbled, off balance.

"You got wet?"

Marcus said, "No, we..." He got distracted as an acolyte arrived in a flowing blue toga. She was an otter, long-bodied and moving fluidly through the temple hall as she must do in water. Behind her flicked a heavy tail that he now recognized. He said, "We have otter tails!?"

The woman paused and double-taked. "So you do! Looks nice on you."

"But why?"

The priest coughed into one fist. "It seems that you've been visited by the Guardian Spirits of the Sea! You have looked upon them while they brought forth the Green Tide, and were cursed for your temerity."

Azalea's ears lay back. Marcus didn't want to point it out, but they looked smaller than they should. The collie said, "If we've displeased your gods, we didn't mean it. How do we atone and get this fixed?"

The otter woman started to speak, but the priest silenced her with a wave of one arm. "You must be ritually purified! You are fortunate indeed that you've come during the festival, so that you can do the necessary rites without traveling. How far away is the Conch Shrine, Marielle?"

"Oh!" said the acolyte. "One hundred miles out, and at least a hundred feet below water. Very hard to reach for most."

Marcus paced in agitation. "Then what do we need?"

She said, "Naturally the Unburnt Fish comes first."

The priest nodded. "You two shall eat of nought but raw fish and rice and seaweed, for a day and a night."

"With the sacred green spice," the otter added.

"Yes. And you must collect a pearl from the seabed. Then we will see if you've earned the spirits' forgiveness."

Marcus said, "We're not all that good at swimming."

Azalea peered at him, then went wide-eyed. "I think we might soon get much better."

He felt his muzzle, where she was looking, and found long whiskers growing in. His ears, too, tingled as they slowly shrank to a less wolfish size. "Then we'd better get this over with before it goes too far."

Azalea nodded and they hurried out. Marcus felt weird as he walked, the metronome weight of his tail swishing heavily and tickling him.

#

The festival was starting. People had set up more green and blue bunting and flags since last night. Now they were opening food stalls and games and new trinket stands celebrating the dubious harvest of green goop littering the beach.

Marcus looked at a fox-woman selling some local delicacy, then smelled it. "Seaweed and fish."

"Of course!" she said. "Fresh as can be." She pointed out rolled-up bundles of the stuff with rice in it, in various colors.

Azalea took out some coins. "We need two servings. Raw, I think. And some kind of green spice?"

The merchant said, "Oh, this?" She sold them two collections of the little fish rolls and some unappetizing grass-hued paste. "Thank you; enjoy!"

They walked away, sniffing dubiously at the food. "I like my food cooked," Marcus said.

Azalea tried hers first, then gave a weird deep squawk of pain.

"What is it?" said Marcus.

"Water!"

Marcus grabbed a mug of something from the nearest vendor and handed it to her, ignoring the protest. She chugged it and gasped. "Spicy!"

Marcus sheepishly paid the juice seller for two mugs, then reluctantly nibbled his meal. Dear gods was it hot! He drank right away and managed to finish off food and drink together. "This does seem like penance, all right."

A few onlookers were laughing at them. Marcus' ears burned. "All right. Swimming practice?"

Azalea ushered him out of sight down a less traveled street. "Your hands."

Even as he watched, skin was growing out between his fingers, webbing them together. The fur on his hands and wrists had darkened to brown. "It's not working?"

She was having similar problems. "Okay, still changing. I say we wait till we're done before even trying to swim. Less likely to look ridiculous that way."

He nodded and started back toward the inn. She followed and said, "Why are you walking like that?"

Felt like he was wiggling with every step. "It's this tail. If I think about it I'll fall over."

"It's distracting, yeah."

They hustled into their private cabin and sat down alone for the first time since they'd woken up. Marcus took a deep breath, still tasting the spicy fish. "Whew. Didn't expect to get introduced to magic curses in this village, or..."

His voice sounded off. He patted at his smooth, fuzzy throat, feeling like something was wrong there too.

The changing collie started to talk, coughed, and spoke in too deep and rumbling a voice. "Now what's going on? What, me too?"

Marcus felt a weird tingle along his chest and began to suspect what was up. "Hon, I don't think it's just our species."

She started to answer, then squeaked, hands covering her lap. "Oh gods. You sound like a girl, and..."

"Y-yeah." Marcus shivered, and his chest *bounced*, rapidly swelling heavier. The sight of Azalea trying to cover herself gave him a momentary twinge between his own legs, then a sense of mass pumping down from his middle to settle around his hips. Azalea and Marcus stared at each other as the changes finished, leaving them both ottery and confused.

"Why?" said Marcus, hefting a fairly impressive bust.

"These sea spirits really didn't want to be seen, huh? Now what do we do?"

He said, "We keep going. We have a known cure. You don't happen to know any spells for at least flipping sexes back, though?"

She buried her head in her hands. "It's not exactly a topic I've focused on. I have some notes in my book for something about harpies, if you really want to try something different."

"I don't want to get double-cursed. Let's just swim and find this pearl we need."

"And get some better clothes for that."

He looked down at his now very tight shirt. "We won't be changed long enough for that to matter." He grabbed his backpack, found it surprisingly heavy, and dug through it for clothes.

Azalea saw the red djinn outfit of billowy pants and tassel-studded top fall out of the pack. "What's that? Did you come prepared?"

"That was supposed to be a gift."

She grinned evilly.

Marcus said, "No, no, you're *not* getting me into that."

"It might fit you well!"

He was motivated enough to go outside quickly, leaving behind only his weapon and the contents of his pockets. Which were much harder to reach into, with how tight they were around his hips. Azalea was struggling with her own problems and settled for borrowing Marcus' usual shirt and leaving it untucked. Marcus put on his spare, which fit slightly better.

They walked out, each hoping that nobody in the bustling festival town would look at them. Their plan failed instantly when they walked through the marketplace on the way to the beach. Vendors called out, sounding friendlier than before, offering fish and clothes and bead necklaces and sea-god figurines. Marcus' ear linings burned.

Down at the beach, people were still gathering up the Green Tide. He said, "So, swimming. Think we suddenly know how?"

Azalea waded in waist-deep and splashed around ineffectively in the kelp-strewn shallows. Marcus joined her and got deep enough to feel how his new breasts tended to float. Reluctantly he waded deeper and sputtered, flailing around. The ex-collie wasn't faring much better. A wave splashed over them both. Now people were staring at them.

The acolyte in her toga arrived, watching too and suppressing a laugh. "Didn't your mother ever drag you into the water by your tail and make you learn?"

Azalea sputtered and shook seaweed out of her hair. "You! Of course not. You didn't forget we changed, did you?"

"Is that something that happens?" asked Marcus, worried.

"So I've heard."

The priestess said, "If you really need instruction, I can help." She whipped off her toga to go swimming; quick removal seemed to be a requirement for otter fashion. Underneath she had on just a silky white skirt and equally thin blouse. "Move your webby hands like this... um, sir? You're staring."

The otter was looking at Azalea, who'd frozen and now shook her head in confusion and tried to focus on swimming. "Right! Uh, what's next?"

They got a quick swim lesson, learning from a natural expert. She asked, "Are you looking for pearls already?"

Marcus asked, "Was that one each, or?"

"Just one should be fine. But they're not trivial to collect, you know. Do you two even know what an oyster looks like?"

"We saw some at the market. Could we just buy one of those?"

"Your ottucation is severely lacking." She rubbed her whiskers. "Hmm. You can try swimming around, but you're probably best off letting me scout out a likely hunting ground. If you give me till late afternoon I'll try to find a spot."

"We have to wait?" said Azalea.

"Do you normally wander around in an open field looking for a treasure that could be anywhere?"

"Once."

The acolyte taught them a bit longer, obviously worried they'd drown themselves if unsupervised. Marcus worried she was right, though maybe they were just being held to an otter skill standard.

He and Azalea agreed to let her do the pearl-hunting in some way that wouldn't anger the gods further.

Marcus waded up to the shore, feeling twice as heavy from the water, but his fur shed it surprisingly quickly. He watched Azalea plot up the beach too. Were those *abs* on her? He'd worked for his own set, and now this curse made him feel all soft and curvy.

Azalea said, "What now, if we're waiting for wading?" Waves washed around their ankles.

"I arranged for a fighting lesson to try doing without armor, but this wasn't what I had in mind."

"Still might be good practice."

They fetched Marcus' sword. He didn't want to admit it but the thing was hard to wield right now. Azalea saw him struggling and put one webbed hand on his shoulder, saying, "We'll fix this."

He nodded, tail twitching, and they went back to find the smith. Azalea obviously thought it was funny that the mighty fighter was a rabbit.

The smith squinted at her. "Can I help you?"

"We're here for a lesson. Uh... something strange happened last night, and --"

"Doesn't matter to me. Non-rabbits look alike, and I recognize that tacky shirt. So show me what you've got." He pointed to a straw dummy.

Marcus muttered, "What's wrong with my shirt?" He was about to object further, but Azalea grinned.

She said, "Can I borrow something a bit lighter?"

He had a good selection of weapons for practice, either padded or dulled. She picked a simple sword and stood in a fighting pose, then jabbed at her target and missed.

"Ooh, watch out for that one's tricky dodging. Try again."

Azalea managed to hit the inert scarecrow this time, but overcommitted and stumbled forward with the blow. Marcus said, "Don't put your full weight into every swing."

She tried again, with more enthusiasm than skill. Marcus called out her most obvious mistakes. The trainer chimed in, "Your girlfriend's got the right idea. Don't expose your back to the enemy."

"This is tough," Azalea said, breathing hard. "Maybe switch?"

"Already did that," Marcus muttered. He took the light blade she'd been using and tried not to make a fool of himself. He lacked the raw muscle he was used to. After a few practice moves he whipped the blade up to jab right in the dummy's throat. "Yield!"

"I recognize that move," Azalea said.

Marcus danced around the target, moving cautiously, jabbing and slashing. The moves weren't easy for him either, but in this lightweight outfit he could move and dodge with more speed to make up for the lack of armor.

The smith said, "Behind you!"

Marcus whirled, stumbled and crashed into the dummy. The rabbit continued, "Oof. Good technique but your balance is off."

"A bit," he admitted.

"You teaching your boyfriend? You're better than him."

He blushed, scratching one ear. "Yeah."

"Well, you could benefit too. With a figure like that you should be standing more like this..."

#

They came away from the lesson exhausted and puzzled. When they had a little privacy Azalea said, "That was fun, but I'm happy to stay out of melee."

"You got in a few good hits. It was fun to watch."

She smiled. "While we're waiting, want to learn a little about magic?"

"I've seen more of it this trip than I'd like." She looked disappointed, though, and Marcus went on. "But that's the curse kind. If you've got something super basic...?"

So they went back to their room and she tried to explain. She warned not to expect to cast anything in one lesson, but maybe he could at least learn more of the theory than he knew from watching her.

At some point in the lesson, they ended up with Marcus sitting on Azalea's lap. Neither of them paid much attention to it until they both noticed in mid lecture. "Um, sorry," said Marcus.

"When did...?"

"I'll just sit over there and --"

"No, wait." Azalea wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, making him squeak. She laughed. "Comfortable?"

"More than I want to admit."

"This is weird for me too. You feel so little!"

They sat quietly together for a little while, their whiskers tickling each other. Then there was a knock on the door.

Marcus hopped up, blushing, and answered it. The temple acolyte was here, looking pleased. "Found the perfect spot. Ready for a swim?"

Jarred out of studying and of other thoughts, Marcus nodded. "Let's find this thing."

They headed back through town. The priestess said, "How have you been doing?"

"Swimmingly," said Azalea.

Their guide paused and looked them over, then giggled. "Wait a minute. I *thought* there was something off about you two and your scent!" She stood tiptoe and grinned at Azalea, saying, "Feeling unusually big and strong and handsome today, miss? And how is your slinky boyfriend?"

Marcus said, "H-hey, she's taken."

That just made the acolyte grin wider. "Truly a dire fate for you both. Onward!"

They headed south from the stretch of beach where they'd been before, to outside most of town. The festival was far behind, though the breeze carried flute music. The guide said, "My friends and I located a good spot to find oysters. Not a lot around, this time of year, but there are some yellow tendril plants that the things anchor around. If you think you can go a hundred paces without drowning, head straight out from about here, and look for the plants."

Azalea said, "If we do need help, can you come drag us out before we drown?"

"In the name of the Spirits of the Sea, I will watch over you."

They waded in and tried swimming. The repeated waves to the face still bothered Marcus, but it helped to swim beneath the surface and only come up for air when he had to. Neither he nor Azalea had quite figured out how to lash their tails for greater speed, so it was a long and flailing trip out from shore. Azalea had some past swimming practice but proved to be little better at it than him.

They looked down through the water. Marcus was the first to spot a cluster of three unfamiliar yellow shrubs down there, seemingly held in place only by rocks. He surfaced for air, then got Azalea's attention. They dived down maybe twenty paces.

Neither of them could keep steady in the water. There'd been a suggestion of wearing weights but that just sounded like a way to drown faster. Marcus approached one of the plants and admired its golden fronds waving like corn stalks in the current. Nothing else there, though.

On their second trip up and down, Azalea pointed to another plant that had the grey shells of oysters clustered around it. Aha! She reached for them.

The plant tendrils wrapped around her leg. She yelped, letting out a bunch of bubbles. Marcus darted forward and knocked her away, snapping her free from the thing. She dashed for the surface and came up sputtering.

Marcus joined her and coughed. "What was that?!"

"It grabbed me!"

"Are you hurt?"

She awkwardly tried to float on her back to check. Marcus propped her up as waves bumped them up and down. Azalea's fur was sleek and he ran his claws along it, but there was no wound from whatever the plant monster had done. "Doesn't hurt," she said.

As they calmed down Azalea reasoned, "The acolyte saw these things. Would've warned us if they were venomous or something."

"Probably. Uh... maybe I should try to snag the oysters?"

"How chivalrous," she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

They splashed down again through the waves. Marcus tried throwing a rock at the plant and realized how useless that was. He picked up another one and brandished it like a club anyway. He feinted repeatedly with one arm and gauged when the plant would shoot out its feelers to snag him. A little closer... there! He lunged and swatted at the shells. They didn't come loose. Yellow tendrils grabbed his arm. He panicked and flailed but pulled loose, shuddering.

Azalea gestured to ask if he was all right. He shrugged and surfaced again, cursing. It didn't hurt, but it was creepy!

He descended and this time, used a stone to hammer the nearest shell. It took him several tries to avoid the grabby vines but one oyster snapped free, then another. He kicked them free and let Azalea capture them while he liberated a third.

At the surface he said, "Finally! I hate that thing. Can we skip checking the third plant?"

"Only if we actually got a pearl. I think we have to break them open?" She pried at one with her claws but only came away hurting one claw. "Ow."

They swam back to shore, noticing that the priestess had followed at a distance. She looked pleased. "Captured your wily prey, huh? Next step is to break them with rocks." She took one out from under her arm somehow and tossed it underhand.

Azalea and Marcus sat on the beach, trying to puzzle out the best way to dissect oysters. The acolyte stifled a giggle as they flailed at it. Eventually they pried one open and found... slimy white flesh that smelled weirdly nice. Marcus had no desire to eat it.

Azalea said, "I'll leave this stuff to the professional otters."

"Suit yourself!" said their guide, and she slurped the stuff down raw. Marcus' stomach churned.

They tried the second shell. "Come on, jackpot!" said Marcus. It split open, and -- aha! -- a tiny white ball rested there. "Shiny!"

Azalea peered closely and poked it with a clawtip. "Nice. So this is what we need?"

"It should be! Congratulations; you two have harvested the sea's bounty using the skills of an ocean creature. I'll go prepare the cure right away; come find me at sunset. Mind giving me the pearl? Oh, and you should try your luck on the third one."

Azalea handed the treasure over while Marcus broke open the third oyster. "No luck."

"Still a prize!" said the priestess, who slurped down the meat again. He shuddered.

#

"So we have a little time," Marcus said. In the distance people were still partying.

"I'm just glad we've got a fix for this. Assuming it works."

"What now?"

"Want another magic lesson?" she asked, but with a sparkle in her eyes.

He blushed. "Just like the last one?"

"Mm-hm."

"Sure."

#

They went back to the temple, where the head priest and his acolyte had prepared a bubbling goblet. "Are you prepared?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Marcus, still flustered.

The priest clasped his hands and said, "There is also the confession of truth. To please the spirits, you should speak true words to one you care about."

Marcus blinked. "Am I supposed to say aloud that I love my rudder-butt friend here?"

Azalea kissed him, tilting him way back in her arms. It was kind of nice. "Yeah, you too."

The priest said, "Oh. I assumed you two hadn't told each other that yet. That's done then. What else." He handed over the pearl and said, "Now, balance this upon your nose."

Marcus peered skeptically at him but tried to do it. His nose was a weird water-snorkel snout he wasn't used to, and he cursed and dropped the pearl twice. "Worried I'll crack this thing. Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Your turn!" said the acolyte, giving it to Azalea to balance.

Azalea folded her arms. "Now wait a minute. How does this fit into the ritual? What's the theory here?"

"Naturally, you're trying to restore the balance of... um..."

The human priest jumped in. "The balance of souls, represented by the use of a pearl which is the sea's bounty, and... help me out here."

"And it's shiny, representing the light of divinity upon the snoot of the mortal world."

Azalea smacked her forehead. "Have you been putting us on this whole time?"

"Maybe a little."

Marcus groaned. "Do your sea gods approve of pranking random travelers?"

The priest said, "Yes. They saw fit to bless you for catching them at work by chance, and warned us in a dream that you'd be coming to us for help."

"*Can* you actually change us back? I don't want to be stuck like this!"

"We just felt you'd benefit from getting to enjoy the sea and the otter experience. If you're ready I can throw off the blessing right now."

The priestess said, "But hey, the festival is still going on! Why not wait another day? This isn't all bad, is it?" She gestured to her own whiskers and tail.

Marcus fidgeted, touching his own heavy tail. He hadn't mastered swimming with this thing, and he'd been remarkably good at diving even with no experience. Then there'd been the battle lesson. Trying to fight with a different body was good practice for dealing with any magical problems they might have later. And he kind of wanted to see Azalea wield a sword again.

Azalea said, "If we wait a day, I can get Marcus here to try on that red genie outfit."

He sputtered. "That's all that's on your mind?"

"No, we still have to deal with the fish delivery. And I want to see if my magic is any different like this. And I want to swim more."

The priest said, "We'll be waiting when you've had enough."

Marcus and Azalea walked out, still ottery but reassured. Down at the beach they saw people setting up a game "in honor of the spirits"; something involving a high net and knocking a ball around. "Want to try?" asked Marcus.

"It's a good idea to appease these spirits. Then we can have another go at the spicy fish rolls."

Their schedule was booked solid, and Marcus was pretty sure he'd enjoy it all.