WereWoman by Piers Anthony Page B

part of the Witchly protocol.
    We entered the gate and discovered a wooden cellar-type door at the base of the mountain. We opened it and descended into a gloomy storage room that smelled of decaying potatoes. Still not impressive. No one would be looking in here for anything. We turned a dark corner, found another rickety wooden door, opened that, and entered a dank tunnel. It curved, then opened out into an amazing brightly-lighted subterranean cave. We were on a ledge looking down into its central valley.
    The heart of the mountain was evidently hollow, and this was the inner sanctum. It was an amazing garden with all manner of exotic plants and trees, and a lake in the center. Animals abounded, with squirrels in the trees, deer grazing in the glades, birds in the air, and fish leaping in the water.
    â€œThis is paradise,” I murmured, awed.
    â€œSo it is labeled,” Nonce agreed. “The solar lenses direct the sunlight down here to make a very nice greenhouse.”
    â€œBut to what purpose, since there’s no indication that this is a tourist attraction? In fact this is perfectly hidden.”
    A Vampire lass approached us, as lithe and lovely as they all seemed to be. “I am Veera, caretaker of the day. How may I help you, honored visitors?”
    â€œWe are Phil Were and Nonce Witch, here to interview suspects in the recent murder of Vulcan Vamp,” I said. “We admit to being impressed by the setting.”
    â€œWe do enjoy it,” Veera said. “Perhaps before you meet the suspects, I should acquaint you with the nature of this retreat.”
    â€œPlease do. I had no idea that such a garden existed, and I am quite curious as to its purpose.”
    â€œAs you surely do know, we Vamps can assume the form of human-sized bats,” Veera said, shifting briefly to exactly that. “But we would be unable to fly, because of the square-cube law. That is, our mass is much greater than our wings can lift, at this size; only much smaller birds and real-life bats can fly naturally. So we require magic to increase our strength and decrease our weight, to make flight feasible. To gain that magic we must drink fresh blood.” She smiled. “Don’t worry; I am not going to bite you. We don’t prey on Supes. Or on normal humans, for that matter; it’s too dangerous. Instead we raise blood-rich animals, harvesting their blood carefully so as not to damage them. They are used to it, and really don’t mind; our bites are anesthetic and we give them treats. This is our hunting ground.”
    â€œAmazing,” I said. “But couldn’t you do it more efficiently with caged animals, the way commercial interests farm for eggs and meat?”
    â€œWe would never do that,” Veera said, making a brief expression of horror. “It is important that our animals be happy. It affects the taste and vigor of the blood.”
    â€œOr a preserve in some isolated region,” I said. “That would surely be much cheaper to maintain, with happy animals.”
    â€œNot necessarily, because we would not control the environment and would not get maximum growth. There could be poachers, too. Also, we would not be free to fly by day.”
    â€œYou don’t fly by day?”
    â€œOur bat forms are quite sensitive to direct sunlight; in fact it is rapidly lethal. It’s a side effect of the magic. So at times we turn off the sunlight here, and fly in the gloom. It’s highly refreshing. And that is how Vulcan was killed. There was a glitch in the timing of the cycle, and he was caught in the sunlight while flying over the lake. He died within minutes.” Veera shuddered. “It was horrible.”
    â€œHe was flying in the gloom, and suddenly the light came on?” Nonce asked, getting it straight.
    â€œExactly. That should never have happened. We discovered that someone had modified the computer program to make it malfunction, and he was the