Completely deserted wastelands are usually safe.
Keyword "usually."
Ugh.
Stupid magic traps.
"Hm. Maybe. I don't know. Just be careful when you're rearranging my head, if you're not careful enough I could lose my magic."
"Magic exists in structures in the brain. Anything that makes me less intelligent or creative or anything like that could fuck up the structures until they can't hold magic any more."
James breathes a sigh of relief. That should be work-aroundable. Normally the people he transforms end up a little more simple, but instead she just needs to be intelligent and creative for him. Still, he should make sure he hasn't messed any of that up, otherwise this would have been a very annoying interruption and all for nothing. "Have I affected your magic at all, yet? As long as you can tell without using your magic. Actually, don't use your magic without my permission unless I say otherwise." She was supposed to please him, and she clearly wanted to, and was already calling her Master, but he still had not reason not to be extra cautious. If he needed her power to defend himself he should have enough time to tell her so. He could always release this stricture once he was very sure of her loyalty and service.
"I don't think it would have, but I can't tell without trying to use magic."
"I can...hm. I dunno. I can do lots of stuff, but I don't know enough about this plane to know what's safe."
"Hmm, something small...I could do a divination, those are generally safe. But a null result wouldn't be conclusive, those can fail for other reasons."
Her magic seems like it could be very interesting. Clearly complicated, but interesting. He considers asking her what kinds of things she could divinate for, but honestly he can ask that later more at his leisure and right now a result would be better than not a result. "Let's try something a little more conclusive then. Can you, say, levitate something? Or change something into something else? Something so we can be sure."
"Hm, I suppose it can wait until we get there, then." There's so much to ask and they have to run first and this is going to make things rather difficult. And clearly her purported intelligence and cleverness are hardly being pointed in his direction at the moment, and he should easily be able to fix that. But first things first. "Is there anything else you wanted to ask, then?" He turns another corner. They should be there soon.
James grins, smug and superior. "Technology. Lots and lots of technology. Maybe where you're from, you use magic to make up the difference, or something, but here we just have technology, and lots of it. I don't know how it all works, necessarily, but it, and many other things, are purchasable." More or less as he expected from her primitive and strange manner of dress, but wherever she's from is clearly not as advanced as here is.
She considers possible responses, and settles on an impressed little "Oh!" and sitting back in her seat, apparently satisfied.
She figures out how to operate the door and gets out and waits for further instruction.
"Incredible. Perfect." And something he can't even do, besides. He's not entirely sure what else she can do but he's going to find out ever so soon. She'll be tripping over herself to tell him, even. "Let's get us both changed, you first, since we're not going to have access to a changing room until I can make another one somewhere. Something to make sure you're more than just obedient, and we'll keep all of your intelligence and creativity intact to make sure the magic still works" He heads down into the basement to get to his safe and secret changing room, making sure Elodea is trailing behind, already thinking through what he's going to do to her in his mind.
"Of course, sir," she says, following behind. "--But you seem stressed, and in my experience artists do their best work when they're...relaxed." She comes up behind him and places her hands on his shoulders, kneading in a way that would be a simple massage and not erotic at all, except that she is a thousand years old and can play the human body like a delicately-tuned piano.
James opens his mouth to protest about how they might not have enough time, and then closes it when her touch feels so incredibly good. And hot. "Maybe just five minutes," he says, leaning into her hands to let her do her work, relaxing and feeling his cock get harder. He hasn't planned on fucking her so quickly, but maybe a quickie wouldn't hurt. They should have a little bit of time, he's pretty sure. Her hands feel amazing.
She presses a few exquisite nibbles to the side of his neck, before smoothly sliding around front and removing his shirt with more improbably delightful finger-strokes.
James is very used to having girls do such things to him, concentrating on his pleasure, allowing him to relax and enjoy them fully and properly. Still, none have anywhere near the skill Elodea has, to arouse and delight him this much without having even touched his cock yet, which is already starting to strain against his pants. If he were able to think particularly well at the moment he would be wondering in amazement about what they teach girls where she's from, and how she came to have so very much skill. Instead, his thoughts are instead much closer to "fuck this is amazing" and "holy shit how did I get so lucky with my new slave", in various minor variations. More than used to this kind of personalized attention, primed to fully expect her to take care of his every need, he almost thoughtlessly lifts his arms, letting her pull off his shirt, relaxing into and sighing gently at her touches.
Convenient.
Hmmm where are the most erogenous spots on his upper torso, time to find out.