//------------------------------//
// Chapter 43: Impermanence 
// Story: Child of Mine 
// by Starscribe 
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Fay's magic had reached far, transforming most of the internal space in the Lodge and leaving nothing of the objects there before behind. Her computer, mercifully, was spared, but this was the only good news. Their bedroom was right through the wall, and was completely transformed by the effects.

The world that Fay created was fully enclosed, blocking off the open ceiling and the hidden cameras she had known were up there watching. Like the stables, the spaces Fay's magic carved out seemed to have a distinct purpose. The new additions were centered around a bedroom, one that was big enough to swallow several of the lodge's other spaces. 

It looked like something right out of the richest royal estate, or maybe the palace of a dictator somewhere. Dark woods, elegant twisting spires of clear crystal, and gemstones set into the furniture. The new bedroom had an oversized crib in one corner, with blankets matching Fay's own colors. Vast front doors led to a hallway that melted awkwardly back into the faux wood barricades Edgar had used to divide the Lodge in sections.

"Everything's gone," Kara said, slumping down on the side of the oversized bed. She'd opened every gigantic dresser and cupboard. There were a handful of strange objects inside, but none of them were their belongings. No clothes, no pictures, no diary. Nothing had survived.

Kyle moved slowly, conscious of the shivering weight on her shoulders with every movement. Fay had cried for hours before she finally quieted down. Still, she refused to fall asleep, or be anywhere apart from Kyle anymore. There was no telling how long the baby would take to recover this time.

She can't think I wanted this to happen, can she? "I'm sorry, Kara. I didn't..." What could she even say? She had no more control over the baby than her grandfather or the wizard working for him.

Kara's eyes were bloodshot, and she looked on the edge of tears herself. But she didn't cry. For all they knew, her new biology might not even let her cry.

Is this where you turn against us too, Kara? You think this is Fay's fault? Kyle's mind raced through every potential defense she could think of, though needing to try felt absurd. Fay was a baby, she didn't know what she was doing! Just like with transforming Kara, it wasn't her fault. She'd been forced into it by one of Grandpa's people upsetting her.

Kyle needn't have bothered. "We can't let them keep doing this," Kara finally said. She flopped onto her back on the plush carpet, which was woven into the shape of a crystal-looking heart flanked with gold. Maybe that symbol meant something in the place Fay came from, but neither of them could know for sure. "You're tending to an atom bomb. While we're trying to carefully get to know her and ease her into accepting us, they're just throwing firecrackers into her face to see what happens."

She groaned, covering her face with one transparent hoof. "What the hell do we do now? Is everything Edgar does just gonna make things worse?"

Maybe. Kyle opened her wings, nudging gently at Fay with a hoof. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?" 

The little horse opened one eye, watching her. She closed it again a second later, her whole body shuddering. Maybe she was finally tired enough to get some sleep. 

"I'm sorry," Kyle said again. She'd lost track of how many times she'd said anything like it. There was no telling if the foal even understood the concept.

Kyle walked around Kara to the crib. Like everything in the space made of sturdy rock, it was perfectly sized for a pony, with sides raised high enough to prevent her from rolling out accidentally. Unlike the practical model Fay had recreated in the stables, this one was wrapped with golden metal. Maybe it was the real thing. Given what that might mean, Kyle hoped very much it wasn't.

At first Fay continued to cling to her back—but she'd been there long enough that she was finally wearing out. With a little coaxing, Kyle levitated her up and off, settling her into bed as gently as she could. The baby instantly reeled, wrapping her forelegs around one of the blankets. 

Kara kept her distance, her voice soft. "Do you think all this is from... where she's from?"

Kyle watched Fay for a few seconds in case she was about to start crying again. Only when her breathing shifted subtly into sleep did she finally turn for the door. The architecture wasn't all that different from Earth standard, all things considered. There was a light switch just like the stable, that covered some subtly glowing crystals with a metal shield. 

She hesitated by the door, settling it shut only when her sister had followed her out. "I can't think of any other explanation. If it was wild and different every time she did it, then maybe it might be... her imagination or whatever. But that's not how this is." 

She tapped one hoof against the wall, feeling the intricate molding, and the series of artistic cuts in the glass, so that light would shine partly through and made the wall seem to glow. "She's smart enough to make all this, makes me wish she was smart enough to change us back."

"Seems like things only go one way," Kara whispered. She walked out into the half-destroyed kitchen. The fridge was gone, but they still had a soda dispenser. The table had been sliced almost in half, and now lay on its side without most of its legs. "The more people poke Fay, the more of the world changes into the place she came from. She might be like... the beginning of the apocalypse."

"No." Kyle hesitated, her empty glass still under the fountain. Out here, the lights had been dimmed to simulate night—though she'd been underground for so long that she couldn't have said if it was night or not. The longer their grandfather kept them here, the more control over their perception of time he would have. "Not a chance. She just wanted to eat. Every time she does this, it's always because she's hurt somehow. Or she's scared, or just needs something. She could be blasting her magic out every day, and she doesn't."

Kara shrugged, sliding past Kyle to the glasses. She began adding sodas at random, until she'd produced a sugary mess.

"Do you think she's too dangerous to keep around, Kara?" She met her sister's eyes, feet away. "What if a magical genie showed up who would change us back, if we sacrificed the baby first?" The prospect wasn't as absurd as it sounded, given what had happened today. Despite all Grandpa's promises of gentleness with Fay, his people kept making things worse.

Kara took a long sip of the absurd concoction, draining it down her throat. Kyle half expected to see it trickling through her, but of course she couldn't. She wasn't being drained right now, so she wasn't transparent. She set the glass down a second later, banging it against the counter. "I want to say I'd do it," Kara said. "I should be able to say it. After everything she took from both of us."

She circled around to the empty hallway, looking back. "I flip that question backwards. What if we couldn't change back without killing her? Ultimately..." She held up her glassy, transparent leg, flexing it. It strained and squeaked under the pressure, obviously not meant to move. The more time passed the more of it seemed alive, though the effect hadn't yet made it to her knees. 

"I had more to lose than you did," she went on. "I was going places. I was gonna do some amazing things. But I don't think I could get to any of those places if I killed a baby."

She advanced, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I'm not saying this is true, Kyle. But you might have to face the fact that Fay really is dangerous to the whole world. Hurting her so we can get our old bodies back is selfish, and I wouldn't do it. But what if it was her or the world?"

"It won't come to that," Kyle said. She couldn't meet Kara's eyes anymore, even so. Just because she didn't want that to happen didn't mean it wouldn't. I'll ask Monday. They’re the expert.

A ringing sound echoed through the intact half of the housing area—a phone. Kyle barely even recognized the sound at first. They didn't exactly get many calls down here. She followed it into the little office space, where a landline sat beside the laptop computer, with oversized buttons and handles suited for the elderly and other movement impaired.

She pressed the speakerphone button to answer, given Kara was right beside her. "Yes?"

She shouldn't have been surprised to hear her grandfather's voice. "Kyle, is that you?" He barely waited for a response. "I just heard about what happened. I just wanted to make sure everyone is alright. How are you doing? Is your sister okay?"

"I'm fine," Kara answered, before Kyle could open her mouth. "I'm not sure how many more bombs I can survive, though. The people who work for you really like to kick the anthill."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Akiko assured me the process would be merely observational. There were not going to be any spells cast on the baby today. Was I lied to?"

"N-no," Kyle admitted. She wanted to throw Akiko under the bus after causing this. But nobody had been hurt, somehow. She probably didn't deserve that. "But she wasn't very good about taking the hint. Fay didn't like her magic, but she just kept going and going until she... exploded."

Edgar clicked his tongue, dissatisfied. "I'm told there were no injuries. The property was seriously damaged, but none of my people were harmed. Is the specimen unhurt as well?"

"Fay's fine," Kyle said. "Physically, anyway. If she keeps getting traumatized, I don't know if she'll tolerate being kept down here. I'm sure you have enough cameras to see what happened. I have no way of stopping her if she decides she wants to get out. I know we look the same, and I know I'm older—but her magic is so much more powerful than mine they're barely in the same zip code. I can't protect you."

"No one is asking you to," Grandpa said, not missing a beat. "You're children. You're enduring this process far better than most adults. Continue to cooperate with us, and we will maximize your chances of being returned to humanity. That is all we ask."

Cooperate. Kyle ground her teeth together, frustration building. "Fay isn't safe to test anymore," she said. "Please tell your wizard to run all her tests on me. The information might not be as good, but I'm not an atom bomb. I can control my magic. Leave the baby out of it."

There was another long pause, long enough that she began to wonder if Edgar had already hung up. Finally he said, "You're asking a lot from me, Kyle. Do I perform the dangerous magical experiments on the monster who attacked the people I care about, or my own grandson? I know your parents and I have never seen entirely eye-to-eye, but that doesn't change how much I care about all of you. I won't put you in danger."

"Blasting Fay puts us in even more danger," Kara added hastily. "This time she transformed your space into her space. What if she turned us into rocks? I'm already halfway there."

He was silent again—long enough that Kyle thought of something just as important. "Speaking of Mom and Dad, could you tell them to call us again tonight? It isn't great being stuck in here. I think we'd both feel better if we got the chance to see them. Even if... right after wild magic leveled the place isn't the best time to see them in person. A Skype chat would be great."

"I'll tell them," Grandpa said. "Promise. You two stay safe in there." The line went dead.