Power of the Lost

by Cebelius

  "You are out of your ever-lovin' mind if you think anything like that's going to happen while we're in here," Terry said, speaking up from the corner in which he'd set down his pack. "This is a dungeon, not a date."

  "Well, whether Shy gets what she wants or not, I have two really good reasons for wanting a wall, if Mila doesn't mind."

  The now thoroughly bemused tiger woman's ears flickered Laina's way, and then she looked. The minotress flexed her immense chest as she gave Terry a pointed look. Shy snickered and covered her mouth, though Mila heard her say sotto voce, "Those are good reasons."

  Mila looked back in time to see Terry cover his face and mutter, "If you wouldn't mind, Mila. I would very much appreciate a wall."

  Several minutes later, there was what amounted to a room set up, and Laina disappeared into it with Terry in tow and Shy just behind her.

  Accepting one of the camp chairs, Mila sat with Marcus and her brother and the two spoke in low tones, all of them doing their level best to ignore the admittedly purely utilitarian sounds of a minotress being milked. They discussed the riddles, then speculated on what they might find once they opened the hatch that would lead them into the next part of the Labyrinth.

  As usual Yuri did most of the talking, though he asked Mila questions related to the magic they'd encountered thus far to try and extrapolate what might happen next. Marcus as usual sat quietly and listened, injecting an occasional comment when called for. Mila could see that he was both excited and uncertain, and after a while she asked him, "What do you want out of this place, Marcus? You never even told us you wanted to come here."

  "No point," he said with a heavy shrug. "The Labyrinth appears or it doesn't."

  "So what do you want?" Yuri asked, and both siblings gave Marcus their full attention.

  The minotaur scowled, a rare expression for him, then said, "Ariadne is the tauren matron. More than any other Power, she watches over my people. If you fail, I need to be ready for what comes next. We both know Vlad doesn't support our ancestral arrangement."

  Yuri nodded. "What do you plan to do then?"

  Marcus shrugged heavily and said, "Ask for advice. We are in too deep now that he's here. I don't know what to do anymore."

  Neither sibling needed to ask who 'he' was. Both nodded, and Yuri lowered his voice a bit more as he said, "I think it will work out, provided we can actually get home. The biggest problem now is the distance. We did not even get fifty miles down the road before we were mobbed. Having him with us makes moving difficult."

  "Ariadne can solve that," Marcus said. The big man's eyes brightened a bit as he said, "The Labyrinth can appear anywhere. That'll be the favor I ask. She can take us home."

  "Is that how it works?" Mila asked. "Everyone who reaches her can ask a boon?"

  Marcus frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged and said, "I don't think I can remember any stories where more than one person survived."

  The two tigers blinked at him, then glanced uneasily at each other. Mila looked back at the big man and said, "You did not think that would be good to tell us before we got here?"

  Marcus shook his head and said, "A dragon, a jungle full of hostiles who-knows-where in the world, or this."

  Yuri sighed and nodded as he said, "It does seem that travel with a template gets complicated."

  He cast Mila a sly glance as he asked, "Speaking of which, am I about to get one of the most problematic brother-in-law's in history?"

  Mila's ears pinned themselves back. "Yuri!"

  Marcus snorted, and his eyes were practically twinkling as he looked at Mila, his face going through contortions as he tried not to grin.

  "We talked about this," Mila said in a near whine as her gaze flickering from one to the other and back again. "You are just bringing it up again to embarrass me! We do not know what would happen. It is too much to risk!"

  Yuri's sly smile broadened and he winked at his sister as he said, "Yes, we did talk about this. And the last time we talked, I was the one speaking of risk, and my sister was insisting she was not interested in the first place. Now she talks of risk, and I have nothing much to say. It seems to me the topic has changed enough to have another conversation, yes?"

  Mila's tail lashed, then stilled. "We both know you need me to stay free. This is no longer just about making you chieftain. Vlad must go, and once he is gone you will need someone to replace him. Only I can ..."

  She trailed off as Yuri shook his head. His eyes flickered to the wall that hid the others from view as he lowered his voice until only the three of them could hear, and said, "She would never accept you as a replacement for Vlad. You cannot use that as an excuse. I would never want that for you anyway. But ... if Terry joined our family through you ..."

  Yuri trailed off as he spread his hands. Mila glared at him even as the insides of her ears grew hot at recent memories. She hissed, "He is already family. The only kind of family that matters. We spilled blood together. We saved him, and he saved us."

  "You know there is still a closer bond, if only one. We could do no better than him, Mila. If you are interested, so much the better. Once Vlad is dealt with, she will come. We cannot provide her with a replacement, and in truth we do not want her influence in the first place. Terry Mack might be the key to getting her out of the Steppes for good!"

  "I cannot believe my brother is trying to push me off on a template," Mila hissed, more venom than she intended in her words. That she was not as opposed as she would have been a week ago was not the point ... but it did embarrass her. She felt compelled to argue, even though in doing so she avoided the real issue, the uncertainty. She did not know what would happen to her if she lay with a template. She did not know, could not know, how she would change.

  But those were personal concerns, and they were selfish. Yuri was talking about the fate of her people, and so she spoke of that instead.

  "Are you forgetting that Euryale is no longer with us?" Mila asked, glancing back toward the wall she had erected. The murmur of conversation came from there now, too low to make out anything meaningful. Mila returned attention to her own argument as she met Yuri's gaze. "If we arrive home without her, we have no proof that Vlad meant to destroy us. We will be banished! Terry Mack without the Madsee is ... not going to be enough. You know that. Perhaps if he had time to master the Rod it would be different, but we do not have that time."

  "He was enough to handle a dragon," Asturial said, speaking up for the first time. All three adventurers turned their eyes to her, and she shifted and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Prada's ruby red face flexed and moved naturally, but it glinted oddly in the light from Mila's staff.

  "I am ... unlikely to make headway with him, no matter what I do. I see that now. I gambled everything on him, and I lost. Still, I need friends, protection, and if I cannot get it from Terrence Mack, perhaps I can get it from you. I no longer have my body, but I am still a powerful caster. I can help you oppose this shaman in exchange for a place to recuperate, to restore myself."

  Mila said, "The shaman is not the real problem, though he is a problem. The real problem is who is backing him. And before you ask, we cannot say. To speak her name is to draw her attention, and above all we do not want her attention."

  "Describe her," Asturial said. "I am well-versed when it comes to the powerful creatures of Celestine."

  Yuri and Mila exchanged a glance, and then Mila said, "She finds it very offensive if she is called the penultimate magical power on Celestine."

  Asturial's eyes widened slightly and her lips parted. "Ahh. Old Second-Best. Say no more. If she's involved, that is indeed a problem. I am powerful, but in a magical contest with her I would be sorely outmatched. Nevertheless ... you know my position. I am confident we can come to an arrangement if my help is needed."

  Yuri nodded and said, "Vlad has been her agent on the Steppes for over a century. Even Marcus' people defer to him, and they number in the hundreds of thousands. Our own people are few in number, and
we cannot afford a war amongst our own. With Euryale, we were confident we would be able to catch Vlad by surprise, expose him, and destroy him all at once. Without her we have few options, and even those who want my ascension would be forced to oppose me."

  "Well, we will speak more of this later, should the need arise. I am desperate, and I need allies."

  "You could still get into Terry's good graces," Mila said. "It is painfully obvious what he desires from you."

  The dragon's golden eyes practically glowed in the soft green light of Mila's staff as Asturial said, "Mila Kolenko, do not patronize me. I begged him. I bared my throat to him, and he refused me. There is nothing else I can give to him that I have not already offered. We have enough riddles here in this wretched place. Do not try to disguise his loathing of me as some noble thing. He is vengeful and will not forgive. There is nothing noble in that."

  Mila caught Yuri's warning glance, but something in her broke loose as she caught the indisputable edge of haughty disdain in Asturial's words. She lowered her voice and hissed, "Apologize."

  The dragon's ruby facsimile of a face froze for a moment, then she tilted her head and asked, "For what?"

  Yuri rolled his eyes and, in a quiet murmur, said, "Everything. For Florence, for the lives you took. For being — forgive this — a stuck-up, demanding, arrogant, entitled bitch."

  Prada's voice sounded in the relative quiet. "The Kolenkos are both correct, Asturial. You are what my husband calls a sociopath. It means, among other things, that you care nothing for others, only yourself. He believes, and is likely correct absent the present context, that if you obtain power from him it will benefit no one but you, and that quite possibly it will harm those he loves ... something you have already threatened on multiple occasions."

  "Now that you have joined the conversation, slime, perhaps you can answer me how you managed to obtain his blessing then?" Asturial asked. "I am well-versed in the creatures that come from your plane. You are no more sympathetic to the plights of mortals than I."

  "That was true," Prada readily admitted. "But with me, the only constant is change. I can learn and grow. I listened. I learned. And I demonstrated my devotion to the man who is now my husband with my own free will. Do you understand?"

  Mila blinked, and one of the lingering questions in her mind abruptly resolved itself as she breathed, "The geas."

  Asturial tilted her head, and for a long moment said nothing. Finally she opened her ruby lips and said, speaking as though uncertain of the words, "So the reason that he refused to enslave me was ... so that I could atone?"

  As she glanced around Mila, Yuri, and even Marcus nodded slowly at her. After a moment, Prada said simply, "Duh. I discussed you with Shy and Laina, and we all agreed you were hopeless without help. That is the reason I let this come out; I would have silenced Mila otherwise. I am glad that we were not the only ones impatient for your comprehension. While we are busy giving you hints, here is another: Do not reveal that we told you anything of this. If you do, your chance truly will be gone forever. And, if you can manage it you ... stiff-backed cranky has-been, make an effort to actually be less of a douche. You would be amazed how far 'please,' 'thank you,' and genuine apology for mistakes will go."

  Prada paused, then said it again with emphasis.

  "Amazed. I know you can do it, Asturial. I know you can change your ways. In all honesty I think you're already on your way."

  "It will make no difference. These are tiny things," Asturial protested.

  "YOU are a tiny thing," Prada shot back. "Tiny things matter to tiny people, dragon. What did he say when you thanked him for the face I am providing at his behest?"

  Asturial hesitated a moment, then spoke. "He said, 'You're welcome. I mean that.'"

  "And he did."

  Prada's words hung unchallenged in the air.

  The dragon seemed thunderstruck, and Mila had real hope that Asturial had her revelation.

  For herself, she knew without question that Terry Mack was a good man. For so many reasons. He didn't just pretend. He believed that the people around him mattered. All of them.

  "Terry Mack is my brother," Marcus rumbled. "When I needed him, he came for me. He didn't have to. No one would have thought less of him, but he came for me anyway. He bound his life to mine without a thought, and saved me."

  The big man cast a meaningful glance at Mila as he added, "And he ain't into men."

  Yuri let out a strangled sound, then started cackling. Prada laughed as well, a merry, musical sound as she chortled, "No, he's really not! More's the pity!"

  Mila didn't try to suppress her grin, and she found even more joy in the moment when she noticed that even Asturial was smiling. The dragon's smile had more to it though, and Mila was amazed at how detailed a face Prada was giving her.

  Conversation turned after that, and though Asturial did not join, she remained and listened with the air of a woman concentrating hard on what she was listening to.

  Perhaps she is finally invested in learning how to live with the little folk. That would really be something. A dragon with a heart.

  Eventually though, she caught herself yawning and said, "I am for my blankets. Sleep well."

  She was bid a good night and, since hers was the light, the others made similar noises about turning in behind her. All save Marcus, who would stand the first watch.

  With no better ideas on where to sleep, Mila unrolled her bedding a few feet from the wall she had erected for Terry and his women and laid down before dowsing her staff. She was accustomed to sleeping in high-stress environments, and expected to drop off quickly.

  She didn't.

  23

  Awkward Night

  Mila's thoughts wandered as she lay in the darkness, and she was unsurprised when those thoughts settled on Terry Mack, just on the other side of the wall she had raised.

  She thought of the way he had felt when she had leaned into him in Monsoon. The way his shivering had eased at her touch. He had felt so warm to her, so solid despite the fear she knew almost consumed him then, and it had been surprisingly easy for her to fall asleep next to him.

  Her lips twisted as she tried to suppress a smirk at the way he'd looked when she had been restored from stone. Images of his expression slipped through her mind. Euryale had slashed his chest, and he'd been both bleeding and covered in the evidence of his sexual congress with the gorgon. He had been bemused, a bit embarrassed, but resolute and full of purpose. He had subordinated his fear for the sake of others. He had not only saved Marcus, her brother, and herself, but Euryale as well.

  He was the real thing, a genuine hero.

  Even if I did not know he could ... entertain me, could anyone fault me for how I feel?

  Not that he didn't have his problems. Mila knew that being on Celestine had strained Terry Mack to the breaking point more than once. But he had never broken. His courage and compassion had mastered Euryale. His clever resourcefulness had overcome Volai. His willingness to fight and, yes, blind luck, had helped him defeat the behemoth. Last but not least, his iron resolve had allowed him not only to master a powerful magical staff, but use that staff to destroy a brainiac-infested dragon. His accomplishments in so short a time were beyond remarkable. They were the stuff of legends.

  Did she want him? Yes. She did.

  But there were so many problems with moving forward. He had a harem — one she would have to join — and she wasn't sure she wanted that. The thought of having to share a mate with other females was one she'd never considered, and did not relish. She wasn't sure the others already in his harem would accept her even if she could bury her own misgivings. Then there was the possibility that congress with Terry Mack would not just give her power, but might actually turn her into some sort of monster.

  It was so much easier when I thought of him as a curiosity, a strange man with useful talents. I wish I could still feel that way.

  She heard a soft sound that banished her grander thoughts. It was co
mpletely dark, and the entire room was stone. Sounds were magnified, and Mila's hearing had always been good. Her ears switched back and forth, then focused as she heard the sound again. This time she recognized it as a breathy, feminine sigh.

  Terry's voice was soft, but still distinct.

  "Shy, now is not the time."

  His voice had an edge to it, and Mila found herself holding her breath to listen.

  Shy didn't say anything. Whatever Shy hadn't said seemed to have been convincing though, because a few moments later Shy made another sound, one of pleased satisfaction. Afterward, for long moments, Mila listened to the subtle shift of one set of hips on another, the sound of heavy breathing, of strangled moans and gasps.

  Mila wanted to be irritated. She wanted to roll over and go to sleep. She wanted to call out and embarrass the two lovers.

  As though anything I could say would embarrass Shy.

  The dryad's name was a contradiction of her character at the very least. She did little to hide her emotions from anyone, and it had been obvious to Mila that Terry's response to her earlier that day had lingered in her mind.

  I can understand wanting to get back in good graces, but sex? HERE? With Laina watching? If I can hear them, there is no way she cannot. Why is she not stopping this?

  The sounds coming from just on the other side of that stone wall were just loud enough to hear. It was maddening. If they were just a bit more quiet, Mila would have been able to ignore them. If they'd been a bit louder, maybe someone else would call them out on it. Granted that wasn't likely to be Marcus, who currently stood watch. The minotaur never called anyone out on anything that didn't bear on life or death situations. He was very much live and let live.

  Mila wanted to say something, but instead she curled up onto her side, her tail twisting slowly under her blankets as heat built up inside her. She remembered the way Terry's hands had felt, and a wash of sensation flooded through her. Her lips parted and she started panting quietly, her ears straining to catch all those sounds she told herself she didn't want to hear.