by Regina Watts
Odile said with a scoff, “I didn’t know spirit-thieves had names.”
“This one introduced itself when it tried to seduce me against my lady’s cause—that time you brought me to serve the wadjita.”
Odile looked as though she had difficulty understanding this piece of information for a few seconds, but Indra’s dark face managed to pale a tone or two.
“I always thought there was something strange about her,” said the gentler durrow, looking at her companion with distress. “Was she a traitor, Rorke? Did she know that the beast was staying with her?”
“It appeared to me in its true form, unfettered by any disguise…she knew.”
“And she has since vacated her shop,” added Valeria tersely, looking between the two durrow. “The thing she serves knew it was better if they flee. I would wager a guess that where we find it, we will also find its protector…or its pet, more like.”
Groaning, Odile ran her hand over her forehead and looked up at the ceiling. “Now I just feel guilty—like all this time I’ve been abetting this conspiracy against the Materna’s life.”
“You haven’t intentionally,” Valeria said, her voice as tranquil and matter-of-fact as the one she used in the throne room. “But, regardless of your intention, you are right to be concerned. It would be very easy for my vizier, mistress of the courts as much as the royal guard, to claim that you were willfully embroiled in the scheme and responsible for the escalating attempts on my life.”
All the more annoyed to hear that, the elder of the two durrow looked at me as though to tell me to talk some sense into my mistress, the woman whom many in the city seemed to revere as a goddess. In response to her look, I spread my hands helplessly. Odile rolled her bright eyes and said, “I understand there’s a risk here, but the fact of the matter is that we didn’t do anything. Unless you’re admitting your own courts are rigged against the people who have to defend themselves in it, I don’t see why we should be punished just because we brought Burningsoul to Kyrie as part of a fair, previously-arranged deal that had nothing to do with your assassins.”
Offering a glance toward her hand—as though contemplating her ring beneath the finger guards—Valeria removed her gauntlets. As observed, the guard’s armor was too big for her, and it allowed an excess of space within. She had therefore not worried about removing her bangles, her necklace, or the earrings that swayed within the veil of her hair.
Wordlessly striding to a nearby table, she began one at a time to divest herself of every piece of jewelry she had on her. Everything but that ring. When she at last set the hefty necklace I had picked for her atop the pile, Odile’s eyes glowed golden with Oppenhir’s thirst. She looked questioningly at the Materna, who waved to the precious plunder and said, “I will give all this to you, plus promise you more riches than this, if you will take us to the spirit-thieves’ den and assist us in the slaying of the sorcerer, Al-listux.”
Exhaling low as Indra came to her side to investigate the priceless jewels with her, Odile shared a glance with her friend and said, “Sorcerer, huh…”
“Wounded,” I assured them. “Very badly wounded—missing a hand.”
Odile’s lower lip ground into her teeth. She lifted a lesser ring from the pile and examined its brilliant diamond in their home’s candlelight while Indra asked, “Does he have any other spirit-thieves still with him?”
“We don’t know.” As I confessed this, Odile set the ring back down, still gazing at the pile of gleaming money. “He’s powerful enough without help, in truth—all the more reason why the two of you would be a great boon to us, if only you would consent to help.”
“If only we would consent to risk our lives, more like…” Snorting, closing her eyes, Odile sighed up at the ceiling and then looked at her feet—consulting the gods of heaven and underworld alike as to a graceful way out. Seeing there was not, the elder adventurer shook her head and said, “Fine. We’ll do it.”
At my noise of joy, she ignored me and continued, “It’s not every bloom the Materna herself comes to visit, after all…certainly not every bloom that she asks you for help. Roserpine would fill my bed with serpents and spiders if I turned you down, Madame.”
“The Dark Lady is sure to reward you for carrying out such a selfless risk.” Once she had spoken these words out loud, Valeria’s face seemed to change. The tension in it dissipated just the slightest bit. It made me realize that since I had known her she had been forever distant, her lovely features tinged with fear—dark acceptance that she might at any moment meet her fate at the tip of a poisoned dart or dagger in the back. That haughtiness I had seen in her? Fear was what it truly was. Separation from the world, in anticipation of her death.
But now all that began to lift. Much as my face had surely changed when we stepped together outside the Palace walls, her tense brow soothed and the strain of her jaw began to vanish. “Roserpine willing,” she said softly, “when all this is over, I’ll be able to live in peace again, and so will the city I love.”
It had not yet occurred to me how impacted El’ryh was by the Materna’s constant close calls—but as we, a small party of four, soon made the long journey up the coiling ramp out of the city, I wondered how much of the vaguely antagonistic culture I sensed on my arrival had to do with the grim possibility that any boom the citizens might awaken to some of the worst news imaginable. Skythorn had, in my time, received its share of terrorist assaults, and though they did not occur often, they rattled the entire citizenry. For these attacks to have continued for a time so long (as many as four years before my arrival, I had been told once by Valeria), El’ryh had been existing under a cloud of great oppression.
“We should have bought a cart,” lamented Odile as we approached the gates of the city. “Or left tomorrow at bloom’s first light…what a time to set out on a journey!”
“It couldn’t wait,” Valeria answered. “The longer we wait, the more likely I am to be found out and prevented from leaving at all.”
I feared that might still have been a problem. As we approached the guards, it became apparent that the dark staff was less friendly than those who worked during bloom. Neither Indra nor Odile knew the one who finally called us up from the line, and she looked sternly between the four of us before focusing in on Valeria in her guard costume. “Name?”
“Fiore Cobalt,” answered the Materna. “I am accompanying Indra and Odile here, along with their slave, on a mission from the Materna.”
The guard did arch a thick brow at that, looking between us again and saying, “These two, sent by the Materna? On what?”
“A scouting mission, with the intention of hunting down the latest assassin who made an attempt upon our lady’s life.”
The guard looked all the harder at Valeria upon hearing this. “Is that so? Then why isn’t an entire detail of guards and professional scouts, being sent out to look? Why send the rabble? I’ve half a mind to suspect you lot are responsible for any incident tonight, coming across as suspicious as you do.”
“What, exactly, makes us suspicious?”
“Aside from how bizarre it would be for the Materna—or anyone from the Palace, for that matter—to employ the help of freelancers to chase down an assassin, you know as well as I do that you ought to have written orders clarifying the nature of your task. So, where are they?”
With an annoyed glance at me—perhaps because now she understood a little better my restriction without one of the Palace’s treasured passes—Valeria said, “Ah, I have it here, just a moment,” and removed her gauntlet as though to take a scroll from her sleeve.
Instead, she let the guard see the ring.
The impatient woman almost didn’t notice it at first, on the verge of tapping her foot as she was. When she did see it, however, her eyes grew wide. That gaze snapped from the glowing indigo gem to Valeria’s face and took in more clearly the aristocratic bearings of her features. The soldiers opened her mouth, appalled at herself, but Valeria quickly said wi
th respect to the other guards still checking people in and out of the city, “No need to say anything.”
“Of course,” said the flustered guard, still too shocked to fully formulate her thoughts. “Of course—this looks to be in order, uh, fine, that’s just fine. Go on then.”
“Have a good night,” said Valeria, nodding to the guard while Indra and Odile passed the woman smugly by. I stepped over the gate after them, another cool wave of bliss sweeping across me to think that I had just perhaps permanently escaped El’ryh—but only on its other side did I realize Valeria had not followed me.
I turned to find her looking at the earth; glancing back over her shoulder at the city. Her confession, that she had never before been out of the city, struck me in the heart somehow. What a powerful moment this must have been for her—powerful, and frightening.
At last, her expression growing firm with purpose, she stepped outside of El’ryh and closed the short distance between us.
“I love you,” I whispered to her gently, moved by her growth—her true power. Her eyes flickered toward me; her head lowered. With respect to our companions and the guards nearby, she said nothing, but her hand did brush mine on her way past me.
And then, we walked. Indra held the magical lantern ahead of us, its golden light allegedly the reason why our journey had been so peaceful the first time. Despite this, Odile insisted on taking up the rear so as to keep the Materna from traveling with her back uncovered. We marched in this column formation unbroken, forced occasionally to press against the side of a narrow cavern to permit the passage of a latecomer into the city gates. By the time we emerged into the more open network of caves and tunnels that made passage possible throughout the Nightlands, however, we saw no other travelers, and Valeria had slowed significantly beneath the weight of her armor and the indolent lifestyle that left her unaccustomed to military marches. Three hours turned into four into five. Eventually she began to slow us down, and proceeding along our journey was bound to do more harm than good without giving her rest.
“Perhaps we’d ought to stop for the dark,” I suggested when we approached the source of a dripping I had noticed for some time. In the distance, a natural fountain gushed from the wall and into a small subterranean creek. It curled off through a distant tunnel to disappear into the stones, and the sight and sound were so refreshing to all of us that it was quickly agreed we had ought to spend the night and prepare for a well-rested altercation with the spirit-thief. Valeria drank greedily from the cold crystal tap, gasping to lift her head away and wipe her damp lips against the back of her hand. Indra and Odile preferred the wineskins brought with them, saving their swigs until our small camp was sorted out.
The women had brought only two bedrolls, having only two to their name; however, blankets had been packed to serve as impromptu extensions. After a quick meal of travel rations, mostly consisting of salted lizard meat and those thick hardtack biscuits meant to last on the trail, we organized ourselves into pairs. With Indra and Odile in one bedroll and Valeria with me in the other, we all reclined upon the ground and struggled for the least wink of sleep.
At least, Valeria and I struggled. Indra and Odile both fell to girlish snoring in an instant, their arms wrapped around one another in an almost sisterly manner, Indra already twitching with the promise of future fidgeting sure to annoy her friend. Valeria looked over at them before whispering to me, “How can they feel so comfortable? I’m afraid to fall asleep, lest some hideous beast come out of the dark.”
“That lantern of theirs is enchanted,” I told her. “Enough to keep us safe from any boorish monster that may happen by.”
“And spirit-thieves?”
“That, I don’t know…but you have me. I’m as good as any magic lantern, or better.”
“I suppose,” said Valeria, laughing lightly. Abruptly squirming beneath the covers quite a bit herself, she soon slid her golden dress up over her head and set it carefully aside. “Hold me, Burningsoul,” she begged, turning to rest her backside against my lap when I shifted over to do so.
The shape of her body! There has never been anything more natural to me than caressing the slopes of Valeria’s body. I only realized I was doing so when she shuddered, goosebumps rising along her flesh while my fingertips trailed over her ribs and around the plane of her stomach. Her sighs were sweet as a ripe berry while I teased her, my mouth brushing the ridge of her ear. With a glance at the sleeping guides, she soon looked back at me in invitation. Her legs parted beneath the blanket.
My caresses lowered. Her mouth opened with a gasp of pleasure as my touch traversed areas that seemed more sensitive upon Valeria than upon any other woman. As I toyed between her silken thighs, my free hand slid beneath her to caress her breast. I rolled a dusky nipple between my fingers and she arched back against me, whimpering while I covertly fondled her beside our sleeping companions.
Her heart raced beneath my hand. Those slender fingers I loved so terribly trailed back over me, dancing down my thigh and between us. Soon they found my desire for her, renewed since our intimacy in the baths, and while they wrapped around this column the breath was stolen from my lungs. My tongue lashed the long ridge of her beautiful ear and, while she worked her hand, I caressed between her legs and felt her tension increase in my arms almost constantly.
I was on the verge of almost begging her to do something about it for the sake of my sanity—to permit me the favor of quiet, tightly-bound coitus, like two snakes coiled into one—when I realized that Indra and Odile were no longer snoring. I glanced up from quietly panting Valeria to see our companions watched, embracing, their hands moving beneath the blankets in a clearly sensual exploration.
“Maybe we ought to put the bedrolls together,” advised Odile, producing a slight jump of surprise from Valeria, then an eager lifting of her head at the thought. “We’ll stay much warmer if we’re all together.”
“That seems like a pleasant suggestion,” agreed the Materna, breathless while I had particular success stimulating a certain nerve of hers. Smiling, Odile kissed Indra upon her sighing lips, then drew her upright to gain her help in moving the bedroll.
It had been my previous observation that Valeria was a splendid lover, enthusiastic and responsive in all ways that counted when she was in my arms—but as responsive as she was when we were alone, she was even moreso when we performed in front of someone else. Whether slaves, courtiers or the other members of our small traveling party, the simple act of being seen astride my cock left her not just wetter, but more awash in the actual receipt of pleasure than at any other time. The moans that wracked her body were soul-deep. Seeing my tongue plunge into Odile’s mouth as she bent for a kiss, or my fingers explore Indra’s body to coax an orgasm out of her, only seemed to increase Valeria’s joy. Each time, her body tightened around mine in a vise grip while she worked up and down my length.
For my own part, I had already seen Indra and Odile exchange many a fine-to-observe kiss or caress, but as both turned their attentions upon my mistress, I thrilled to think I had never seen a thing so beautiful in all my life. While she rode me, the two adventurers kissed her ears and tweaked her nipples, sometimes letting their caresses slide down to toy with the gem crowning her holy valley. She moaned while they tickled that sensitive nub, her body flooding all the more, her mouth gasping open for passionate kisses from both. All the while I explored her curves, gripped her hips and rear, caressed her back: soon her pace grew wild and she exploded with delight, my name echoing on her lips until she fell from me and demanded, “Oh, yes, yes— Now let me watch them have their turns, oh, Burningsoul…but save your seed for me.”
And so the pattern continued, me laying Indra down in the bedroll to take her from atop while Odile, incensed by the sight of Valeria’s masturbation to the scene, lowered her head to kiss and suckle my lady’s feminine valley. During the course of these operations, Indra and the Materna exchanged kiss on kiss, and I ached to burst but reminded myself I could not. The
sheer desire within me to obey Valeria’s every command made it doable, though not necessarily easy. It was more difficult still when at last it was Odile’s turn—especially because she wanted it so roughly, presenting herself upon her hands and knees and forever demanding, “Oh, more! Sweet Roserpine, more, more, take me like the beast you are, human—oh, yes! That’s it, hard, hard, just like that—”
When Odile was wracked by an orgasm, her hair in disarray and her bosom rapidly rising and falling with her panting, Indra held her and slowly caressed between her splayed, wet legs while they watched me take my mistress a second time. Valeria was wetter than ever—lewder, too, now offering herself to me upon her back, her legs splayed as she reached down and spread herself with the tips of her fingers. The quivering pink flesh within appeared wetter than I had ever seen it.
My manhood leapt in my hand as I aligned to the sweet cavern. While I plunged into her, she groaned with delight and glanced back with a shudder to see the two pairs of watchful eyes upon us. It was not long before my lady and I shared a powerful climax: one that rattled through the both of us and seemed to inspire one in Odile.
Then, beneath the weight of this pleasure, we collapsed in a heap. Odile and Indra fell asleep instantly, far more heavily than they had before, and I was certainly on the brink of exhaustion myself.
Valeria, though, was not so fast to sleep. Her warm, soft cheek rested upon my chest and her eyes, though heavily-lidded, still fixed into the distance. I enfolded her in my arms and softly asked, “Are you afraid?”
“Afraid—yes. Yes, I suppose I am.”