Fall of Light by Nina Kiriki Hoffman

made this one different. I hold it, and think about the effect I want to achieve, and then I apply it.” She thought about pale, crystal green eyes. When she had the image clear, she closed her right eye and brushed the brush over the lid. She opened her eye and stared at herself: one violet eye, one pale green one. The effect was spookier than she expected. The green eye looked wicked, somehow, as though it saw too much. Her color sense was a little off, too. She closed her violet eye and looked at the world with the green one; suddenly the utilitarian, beige-colored bathroom had secret sparkling diamonds hidden in its corners, and strange patterns in its wallpaper. “Whoa.”
    â€œMy god!” said Lauren. “That’s amazing. Amazing!”
    â€œIt’s peculiar,” Opal said. She held out the brush. “This thing is charged right now. What you should do is think of something simple. The more complicated and extreme you make it, the faster the charge gets used up, and if you run out of charge, you can get stuck that way.”
    â€œThis’ll work for me ?” Lauren took the brush gingerly.
    Opal nodded. “Once I put the power in the tool and tell the tool how to work, anybody can use it, if they know what they’re doing. Think about the change you want, then brush it into being.”
    Lauren held the brush up as though it were a magic wand or a conductor’s baton. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them. She brushed her cheeks. The shape of her face changed, became thinner. Her jawline softened. She brushed her lips. They also thinned.
    She was unrecognizable.
    â€œOh, God,” she whispered. “Unreal.” She set the brush down and placed her hands on her cheeks, pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “Oh, God,” she repeated. “It feels like it looks. Oh, God!”
    Her eyes were still large and dark, wide in their astonishment. “How—”
    Opal stood back, her arms crossed over her chest.
    Lauren swallowed. “How long does it last?”
    Opal touched Lauren’s cheek and thought about it. “I guess about two hours. It’s hard to tell. You can change back with the brush, too. You don’t want to try this too often. I can’t put too much into the brush—I need to save power for my own work.”
    â€œIs this what made Corvus strange?”
    â€œI don’t think so. I only change the outer layer, what the light falls on. It shouldn’t go any deeper. Do you feel like someone else?”
    Lauren stared at her new self. “I think I’m myself inside, but if I went on looking like this for a while, I’d feel different. Wearing this face, I’m not so sure of myself or what signals I’m sending. This is so strange.”
    Opal checked her watch again. Nearly three. “I’ve got to get some sleep or I might mess up tomorrow.”
    â€œOh. Oh, yes, sorry. Thanks, Opal. This is unbelievable.”
    â€œYou might want to practice undoing it before you leave, so I can help if anything goes wrong.”
    Lauren nodded. She picked up the brush, held it, thought, then stroked the brush gently over her cheeks and mouth. Her face filled out, generous, sensuous, arresting, and Opal felt a twist in her chest again. Though she hadn’t made any choices about Lauren’s changes, her power had worked them, and now she was engaged, like it or not. A warm affection welled up in her, a longing to protect Lauren and help her, spend time with her in any capacity Lauren allowed.
    She felt stupid. Why hadn’t she foreseen this outcome?
    Maybe it was for the best.
    â€œI look like myself again, right?” Lauren asked. She patted her cheek. “I did all right?”
    â€œYou did great.”
    â€œDo you need this for your eye?” Lauren held out the brush to her.
    â€œNo,” said Opal. “I wonder.” She closed both her eyes and thought her other eye