Have you been working out?

I looked at my hands. The impression from gripping the bar had already faded. I folded them on the table and watched Mr. Morton. He reached out and touched the metal pretzel. He snatched his hand back as he felt the heat that had been generated by the sudden distortion of the metal. It wasn't that hot, and he touched it again and then picked it up and put it on top of a pile of papers on his desk.

I expected Morton to look at me after my little demonstration. I expected to see awe, wonder, respect, or fear. What I saw was a childlike joy and smug satisfaction, like a little boy who had just proven to a disbelieving friend that Santa Claus was real, after all. I tried to keep a neutral expression, to be cool and nonchalant, but Morton's joy was contagious and I broke into a grin.

"Thank you," he said.

"My pleasure," I answered.

Bambi said to Morton, with a tone that said she had just figured something out, "You're a Fan."

"I am," he confessed. I thought I understood, but Bambi, as usual, had more insight than I did. "I have been all my life. I go to all the Cons I can, and I've always considered myself a True Believer. Now I have been shown that faith is no longer necessary. Now...", he glanced at his new paperweight and then he looked at me, "... I have proof. All the proof I need."

"If," he said, changing the subject, "If my basic design is acceptable, I would like to discuss accessories. You have already decided that a cape would be impractical. How about a mask?"

"Also unnecessary," Bambi said, looking at me. I shrugged. Morton was now an ally whose loyalty would only become more solid the more he knew about my abilities. I watched his eyes go wide and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead as I mentally erased my school makeup and substituted the face of the Dragon.

Although I reverted to my normal appearance after a few seconds, Morton's chalk-white complexion took a little longer to return to fade. While we waited for his composure to return, Bambi said, "You've made the teeth bigger."

"Yes," I said. "Do you like it?"

"I do indeed. But let's see what Mr. Morton thinks."

Morton swallowed largely, twice, before he could speak. "Most, ah, impressive," he said. "The, ah, teeth are, ah, large."

"You don't think they're too big?" I asked.

"No, no. They are, perfect. Is that a skin effect? It looks so, ah, three dimensional."

"It's like a temporary tattoo," I told him. "I can't wear makeup or it spoils the effect. So I use my ability to change my skin to make it look like I have on makeup. The Dragon is something from a movie that scared me when I was younger."

"I think I remember that one," he said, "British production, as I recall. Can't remember the title, though. Well, no mask. How about shoes?" He picked a box up from under his desk and sat it on the table.

I checked the label and saw they were my size. I opened the box and took out a pair of black running shoes with crepe soles and Velcro straps instead of laces. When I tried them on, they fit perfectly and I said so.

"Excellent!" Morton said. "Laces would be a hazard and the crepe won't squeak on smooth floors. The suit will have feet, so you won't need socks. With the gloves you will be fully protected except for your head. How about a hood, or a cowl? Your blonde hair will be visible otherwise."

"That's a good idea," Bambi said. I nodded. My hair was one of the things I couldn't change, the other was my nails. I had no control over dead cells.

"I can make it loose," Morton continued, "so it won't muss your hair. You will be able to pull it over your head, but it won't obstruct your vision."

"Great!" I said. "Too bad I won't have pockets. I can see needing to carry things."

"Yes, I thought of that. How about a fanny-pack? I can make you a matching belt with a pouch that you could wear however was most convenient. I could also make a larger backpack for those times when you needed to carry equipment. I can see you wanting a climbing rope and a grappling hook."

Morton had clearly put some thought into this. Unless I developed the ability to fly, a rope would be a useful thing to have. He started me thinking about other items of equipment that would be handy.

He saw me nodding and said, "Very well. I'll get started on this right away. The suit will be the hard part. The rest will take no time at all. I should still have everything by Friday afternoon."

On the way home, Bambi said, "You surprised me, bending that metal bar. Have you been working out?"

"It surprised me too. Yeah, Jim helps me with the weights. I'm able to press almost three times my body weight. Or at least I was. I think I'm getting stronger."

"Does that bother you? You had a strange look there for a second when you made Mr. Morton his paperweight."

"I'm not sure that 'bothered' is the right word. It makes me uneasy to find out how strong I'm getting. It makes me wonder where it will all end. What am I becoming?"

"That is a question that every girl your age asks herself."

"Good. I'm glad something about all this is still normal. You know, I almost made a slip today in Gym. I forgot myself for a second and came out of a somersault too quickly. The next thing I knew I was six feet in the air."

"What did you do?"

"I flopped on the mat and faked a leg cramp. I don't think anyone noticed, but it started me wondering how I can explore my limits if I have to keep covering up like that."