by Eve Bradley
“Watch me,” Darrian challenged.
Valryn’s chest rose and fell in puffs of hostile anger.
“Three days, men. After that, I’m gone.”
He snapped as he thundered out of the library. The quaking fury marring Val’s face gave him only a small slinking satisfaction, and he swallowed hard before rounding the corner and punching the marble. Blood dripped down.
Catryn
The Djinn’s Haven, The Desert
The celebration was a giant circular gathering of Djinn gathered around a fire. The hub was filled to the brim with chaotic colors, celestial bodies, and hair that moved like flames and water. They shared a giant cauldron of stew made of fish and roots. It tasted earthy and somewhat savory, and it didn’t bloat her stomach like heavy meat and oily bread did. They ate with wooden spoons and bowls.
Cat watched Maru’s face as she downed the stew, her expression showing that she was more than impressed with their choice in recipe.
“Marrowroot, penculla, atrilopa…just to name a few. But I can see what they’re doing. Creating harmony in their bodies. The effects will be double in us,” she shared a rare smile. “I want to take a few plants with me back west. There’re some here I’ve never heard of. I want to study them. They could prove useful for us in the future.”
“Ask, then,” Catryn encouraged.
Catryn was distracted by the high-spirited movement all around them and the thunder of drums. Djinn danced before the fire, their vibrant skin blurring as if she were in a hazy dream. When a Djinn passed by and offered them a fermented drink she assumed to be ale, she took some for the two of them. The cups were crafted from clay, and the drink itself tasted like syrupy tea. Herbs clouded her senses, and the second she’d swallowed, she felt the tingle of inebriation.
“Wow, try this,” she jerked the cup out to Maru.
The woman downed the drink and then began to laugh crazily. Cat reached out a hand to cover her mouth.
“Don’t get me in trouble,” she snickered. But when her fingers latched over her mouth, Maru bit down softly, causing Cat to retract.
“Oh relax it was nothing,” Maru laid on her side on the ground, calm once again.
Streams of dark hair coiled around her, and some fell over her breast and side. She was wearing the robe that Sarth had given them, and Catryn couldn’t help but praise red as being her color. As she layed on her side, the robe even showed a small crease between her breasts.
She was quickly distracted by Sarth approaching and then plopping himself down beside them.
“Voca,” he smiled. His hands laid lazily on his inner thighs. “That’s what you’re drinking. Be careful, it’s strong.”
“Really?” Catryn teased.
The Djinn lived like primitive people, and aside from their celestial bodies, one might think them average. Like a tribe of people who branched away from the common way of life to live in nature. It reminded her somewhat of the Catharsan settlements, as they’d broken away from the rules of the kingdom and formed their own natural way of existing.
The rest of the world seemed eons away from them now. Still, she felt the pang of reality. This was not everything, as much as it was easy to drift into the otherness, they did not belong. But she would not leave until she got what she sought.
And she would do anything in her power to get it.
Catryn sipped upon the Voca and laid back on the mossy ground, staring up at the dark ceiling hundreds of feet above, clouded with smoke. She assumed the Djinn had ways of dissolving the smoke so that it didn’t suffocate them, but as she laid there digesting the Voca, she thought that maybe they didn’t...and maybe she and Maru would suffocate under the sand and never be heard from again.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Sarth tilted his head, and as he looked down at her, she noted how extremely handsome he was.
His electric blue hair swayed dreamily, his indigo eyes pierced her soul, and his muted blue skin seemed so soft and enticing. Oppositely, his tattoos and armbands made him look dangerous.
“Fear is sometimes good,” Cat said, rolling over to peer up into his eyes as he sat beside her. “Fear is the predecessor to bravery. Without fear, we cannot be brave.”
“This is true. But that is just balance. Everything must have an opposite,” he smiled, and his teeth were like gleaming white beacons.
“Just like humans are the balance to magical beings,” she sighed. “Don’t you think?”
Her head was cloudy, her vision spinning. She could only focus on his features. But his brow furrowed.
“That’s not how it works,” he said gruffly. “Doesn’t matter. We are what we are.”
“Why would the gods make it so that Djinn could only access their powers through human connection?” Catryn wondered aloud. “It seems counterproductive for you all...seeing as humans weren’t created till later on, right?”
“Oh, good question,” Maru came to lay beside Cat, peering up at Sarth intently.
“Well,” he smirked mischievously. “This was one of the changes the gods made when humans were made. Olyndrix came to this realm to plant his creations all over. Before leaving, he tied each ancient race to humanity in some way so that the magical races would not destroy his mortals as soon as he left. Time went on, and as you know, our numbers grew smaller as yours grew bigger.”
“Did you know the sea dragons?”
“Yes. Olyndrix made it so that they could only bear human children afterward,” Sarth explained, and seemed amused when Maru’s eyes widened and lips parted.
“What else is there?” Catryn became intrigued. “I mean…the ancient races? There are more?”
“Many,” he affirmed.
“Tell us, then.”
Sarth leaned back on his hands and bore a recalcitrant expression.
“You don’t deserve it yet.”
Catryn was hooked but lowered her gaze so that he didn’t notice her feelings. He was not going to give her anything unless she deserved it, and this is what she’d been waiting for. People gave her love and admiration just for existing...he knew what she was and didn’t care.
“How do we prove our worth?” Maru was overly serious, and Cat began to laugh and hid her face in her arms.
“Defeat Vulzon. Keep the Djinn safe,” he shrugged. “Maybe then.”
Catryn had known many men in her lifetime. But this indignant youth was something she had yet to bear. Was he sliding it in so casually, although this was a true desire of Aisha and the rest? She could only ponder the significance of the words.
“There must be something,” Maru pressed.
Sarth smiled lazily and shrugged.
“Dance with me. They expect it.”
Catryn saw Mela scowling from across the firelight and smoke, her red skin casting the illusion that she was a beautiful devil and this was hell. But when she looked back at Sarth, he was staring at her keenly. She took another giant swig of the Voca and forced it on Maru, who guzzled the rest. When Catryn stood she swayed a bit, and he steadied her.
“Told you it was strong.”
“And I’m a half-goddess apparently,” she rounded. “I’ll be fine. Her...on the other hand...”
Maru was giddy and smirked as if she were the only one who understood the humor in the situation. Her fingers reached out for Cat’s shoulder and hung there for support. The touch of her skin and warmth was out of place, and Cat flushed with how aware she was of Maru’s presence. The woman was tough as nails, and yet, beneath it all, there was a softness that Catryn wanted to explore. She had a sense that Maru never had the opportunity to explore that side of herself as well.
“I can help her if that’s the case,” Sarth smiled, quite pleased with himself. He leaned over Cat with mirthful challenge before turning his back and leading them towards the flames.
The bonfire was filled with a chaotic and colorful border of ecstatic Djinn. Catryn felt that here she didn’t stand out much, and as soon as Sarth pulled both of them into t
he throng, she could feel the happiness like a vibration in her skin.
Every ounce of her was high on the connection and dreaminess of their collectivism. She moved freely, twirling and moving whatever way her body felt. Maru danced as well, utterly carefree, but whether that was from the Voca or the haze of dancing bodies, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this was glorious, and she didn’t want to leave. It was almost as if they were worshiping something, and maybe they were. Maybe they were worshipping themselves.
Cat caught glimpses of Maru moving in the crowds. She saw flashes of blue and felt the warmth of Sarth’s muscled body near to hers. She fed off of every being near to her, until she was full of, lazy, savory, contentedness. Nothing else mattered, only the emotion of gleeful rhapsody. She left Sarth to dance near Maru, and grabbed her hands. Both of them were extremely drunk, falling and swaying like children who’d eaten too many sweets.
“What did they put in...” Maru gripped Cat’s hands as they twirled around.
“Be my guardian,” Catryn exclaimed. “I...I need you to always be with me.”
“You already have three gorgeous men to tend to you. You don’t need a woman.”
Catryn released her, and they stopped themselves, dazedly. She wasn’t in touch with her normal embarrassment, so she found that her fingers traced the hill of Maru’s high cheekbone.
“Cat...what are you doing?” Maru muttered confusedly, but she was unsteady and displayed a drunk smile.
“I’m sorry...” Catryn sighed, but as she dropped her hand Maru’s fingers found hers.
Maru’s face showed a touch of emotion beyond her usual stoniness. She was furtive and looked down, but then found a recklessness unlike her. Maru slipped her fingers through Cat’s and squeezed her hands. She was a little taller than Catryn and closed the space between them.
“What are you looking for?” Maru asked her, searching Cat’s eyes.
Catryn felt that her soul was bared before Maru, as if time had stopped and they were the only two to recognize it. The rest of the world flowed around them in swaths of color.
“You have three men who adore you,” Maru added. “Why do you want me?”
“Are we talking...about you being a Guardian?” Catryn couldn’t help but smirk. “Or something else?”
Maru was silent and looked down.
“Your silence betrays you,” Catryn said, and swallowed down the attraction pulsing in her stomach.
“I don’t know!” Maru snickered. “I know you like them all. You have them all. It’s strange to me. Why do you need another?”
“I don’t have them!” Catryn told her, a tinge of pain panging her heart. “And if it’s them you’re worried about…don’t be.”
“You know that can’t be. It is wrong,” Maru whispered, never meeting her gaze. She ignored what Catryn had said, and went straight for the core of her issue.
“Is it?” Catryn tilted her head, long red hair falling over her shoulder. “By whose standards?”
“All,” Maru retorted crisply. “All standards say so. A man and a woman are meant to...well, you know. The law in Evanona is strict on these things. No productive thing can come from the other.”
“But...you have the capacity...it is in you. How can you think...” Catryn felt the gods and goddesses' explanation of love and knew that beyond what humans thought or created, the fact that her body could sing with desire for a woman was obvious. The fact that it existed made it valid. Incorruptible. Why should it be wrong if it felt so right?
“Did you always know you were like this?” Maru challenged her, stance becoming nearly hostile. “Did you have women just like you had men? It may not matter to you. But I was never associated with it. I had to do my duties.”
“Just as I did mine!” Catryn snapped. “I did what I had to do to survive. I wasn’t out playing. I was making strategic choices in men. Building my clientele. Paying rent, paying for my own food. I was poor. You were wife to a man of high status. Don’t you dare look down on me or think I had it easier than you.”
“You could explore your sexuality, Cat. I could not. I had one man for eleven years. Before that, I...” Maru trailed off, anger narrowing her features. “It doesn’t matter. What the gods will is correct. And even if I like the way you look, it doesn’t mean I should feel any of this.”
Catryn exhaled hard and rolled her eyes.
“The gods will? Don't you think the gods and goddesses knew there would be those of different sexualities? They created humans to be as fucked up as they are. You are who you are. Don’t downplay your desires to satisfy a corrupt way of thinking.”
Maru shook her head, anguish piling up in her eyes.
“It’s wrong.”
“Is it?” Catryn frowned and took Maru’s hand. “Touch me and tell me that it’s wrong.”
Maru glanced around and grimaced coldly.
“I don’t want to touch you. You’re not mine,” she snapped.
“So? Do I own Darrian, Val, or Glend? No.” Catryn replied with a pressing tone.
“And that is wrong,” Maru sneered. “But, at least there is love.”
“There’s no love!” Catryn stormed. “I don’t believe in the word. From what I’ve seen in the world...there is no such thing. Only sex. And if you can make someone’s body react to yours, that’s as much as you can get. Men take and take and look for the next bite every single day. Women are supposed to be fearful and cling to what’s right? Men don’t have the same loyalties.”
Maru took Catryn’s chin in her hand, and she blinked slowly.
“You’re wrong, Peacequeen.”
Before Catryn nearly burst with want, Sarth approached them. He waved them to follow him, and they reluctantly moved. Maru went first, and Catryn followed after her. They both were bristling with irritation and, Cat couldn’t deny, desire. It was even stronger now, filling her bones with tingly lust. Unfortunately, she was incapable of giving Maru what she wanted, and perhaps what she wanted was for Catryn to sprout a cock and suddenly be male. But the fact was, that Catryn now knew that Maru felt the same...and that was enough for her in that moment.
They came ambling through a strange archway. It was etched with engravings above and around, and lanky vines fell over the entryway. As they shouldered through the entrance, they came into a dark, dimly lit space. Small posts of fire burned in brackets on the wall but illuminated everything enough to show walls of scrolls.
“These are historical accounts written by Greguene himself,” Sarth explained as they went towards the extensive walls of crumbling paper. It smelled of old parchment, the tang of woods and stains. She inhaled and felt that this was a hallowed space. Something about it caused her to feel urgent, like there would never be enough time to read it all, and how could she possibly be satisfied without reading every single one?
“You’re a proficient reader?” she asked Maru.
Maru shrugged.
“More or less.”
Cat went forward, robes swaying as she did, the clay tiles feeling weak under her feet.
“They’re labeled on each shelf. It tells of which age they pertain to. Or subject. Greguene had much to recount.”
“Why not share this with humans?” Catryn felt as if this were an injustice, knowing that the histories were written of but not nearly as in-depth as these must be. Athos had lost all its known history through decades of poor rulership, and even the meditation halls had been closed. The small kingdom had slipped into every form of degradation, and the rulers who did have some semblance of authority were corrupt and worked alongside the underground markets.
“He wanted us to protect his wisdom,” Sarth explained. “Wisdom that humans would do away with so quickly through war or for foolish retaliation. Humans are unstable. They aren’t capable of staying steady enough to take care of them.”
“What about the Citadel? The University must be strong enough,” Catryn tried to maintain a peaceful tone, but irritation scraped the edges of the airy s
pace.
“I could argue that history is useless. It’s determined to repeat itself,” he smiled as if he knew this from experience.
“Even if it did, knowing what happened and learning from past mistakes would be a nice option,” Maru muttered, voice slurred.
“And you’re here now. How did you come to be here? I didn’t know any humans were aware of Greguene’s tomb.”
“A man. His name is Kalif,” Catryn circled Sarth slowly, judging his reaction as she moved. “A general in the Yamarian army. He gave me a map leading me here.”
Sarth’s brows lowered, and he shrugged.
“No man would be able to know this.”
The dark room was chilled, and she crossed her arms, feeling the hairs on her neck prickling. Kalif. He’d never felt normal to her. But perhaps it was the strange withdrawn way he existed like he was above or outside of everyone else. Perhaps the Yamarian’s knew more than the Djinn thought. The Sultan had been ravingly arrogant.
Catryn and Maru stayed silent and moved towards the shelves. Cat’s fingers tripped over the ashy paper.
Accounts of wars. Accounts of Greguene’s personal experiences. Accounts of marriages and connections between holdfasts, kingdoms, and settlements. The pages bore a webbing of people and their lives, what kings progressed, and which were knocked aside. They rambled over uprisings and covert schemes. Everything that she read, albeit slowly, sunk into her head and made her view of the world vastly different. There was also accounts of Valryn’s family, and others like him, lineages of men born to serve as Guardians, all raised within the citadel’s walls.
“So much happens to humans in their short lives,” Sarth smirked, and when Catryn looked up she saw a depth of intrigue. She was still unfailingly drunk, and given that Maru was swaggering all over the library, she assumed her to be too. But Sarth was sharp, his keen blue eyes piercing her as if he knew things he shouldn’t. Could he tell who she’d been before? Did he judge her for her exploits as Maru had? It wasn’t her fault that she’d chosen what she had. At the time it had seemed like the only way to survive.