Cameron To Candy

When the King's speech had concluded, Greg didn’t think about himself, or Paddlewick trade routes, defensive changes, or his own livelihood. No, he thought about Cameron, stuck as Candy, who would have just gotten a harem full of people like her smacked in her face with that speech.

So he went home, more determined than ever to help. He had been preparing to help for weeks, just in his own slow, meandering sort of way. On the little table by the wall sat the notes he had gathered about de-transformation possibilities, all the half-baked thoughts and desperate scraps he had gathered because he couldn’t stand doing nothing were there. They included Mage Guild referrals, folk stories, and a note about Bellefemme clothing glamour specialists. Another was about divine petitions. There was a line in his own sloppy handwriting that just read “ask the gods directly” that had been underlined twice. Greg picked the notes up and spread them across the table. Okay, he thought, easiest starting point, the wishing well.

The next day, while Candy was at her self-defense class in the Capital, he made his way down and tossed a copper into the wishing well, then listened for something amazing. He had hoped for a glow, or a booming disembodied voice, or at least a ripple that meant whatever powered the well took notice. Even a polite little water splash would have done. Instead, the coin hit the water with a soft bloop, sank out of sight, and left the surface looking exactly as still as it had seconds earlier.

He stayed there a while longer anyway, leaning over the stone rim with both hands and watching the dark water as if it might decide to activate given enough time. He drummed his fingers a few times and when nothing happened he finally straightened, shrugged to himself and thought, “Well, that’s not what I was hopin’ for.”

Still, he decided that silence was not necessarily bad news. Mystic things probably took a bit, he reasoned, and for all he knew the answer was already on its way. Hells, maybe Cameron had turned back that very second¹He hadn't. and Greg would get home to find a message waiting on his mirror telling him as much²He wouldn't.. Maybe Cam would somehow know it was him that got him turned back, and the message would be full of weeping and grovelled thank yous. Like, thank you, thank you! I don't have to get spanked by Marcus anymore! You're the best guy ever Greg! He grinned at the thought. Sure, it wasn’t the likeliest outcome, and Greg knew that, but he preferred to stay positive and keep on keeping on.

And a wicked thought occurred to him. It would be hilarious if Candy was in public when she turned back into Cameron, still in a full dress and corset! Oh, oh! What if he was at the women’s defence class? Hahaha! They’d kick his arse! So with that in mind, he turned away from the well and headed home to check, laughing all the way.