Sex Rites

by Brandon Fox

  Erik cuffed his partner’s arm. “We know what’s aching, minx, and it isn’t your stomach.”

  “Ander’s right,” Thane said. “And besides, he’s not an initiate. We can’t let him learn of the art until we’re sure of him. Sex will have to wait, at least when Dannel’s around.”

  Skorri moaned, wrapping his arms around himself and rolling onto his side. “Ohhh! My stomach!”

  Thane laughed and picked up a stick to prod the logs in the fire. Embers flew into the black sky. It was going to be a long journey.

  THREE days of hard riding brought them to a pass between two crags that speared the sky like a bull’s horns. The mountains were unlike anything Thane had seen before, jagged shards of red and brown rock forming a forest of spears. He rode in front of the others as they approached the pass, drawn by the mystery ahead.

  Dannel’s description of the hierophants’ sorcery had yielded more questions than answers. The hierophants claimed to possess ancient secrets and guarded them jealously, but much of their knowledge had been lost when fire had swept their temple’s library many generations past. Annual pilgrimages to the Aerehoth Gate were more than a ritual; they were expeditions to recover lost powers. According to Dannel, the attempts mostly met with failure.

  The smell of water flavored the air as Thane neared the pass. His horse smelled it too and scrambled up the steep path with renewed energy. They reached the crest, and cool air washed over them like balm.

  A valley spread before him like rolling green waves, shocking after days of arid rock. Springs gushed from fissures in the barrier wall separating forest from desert, streaming in rivulets to a glittering lake. Brilliantly feathered birds soared above pines and cedars. Their caws and songs filled the air. Thane stared in wonder as the others caught up.

  “The Valley of the Gate,” Dannel said as he reached Thane’s side. “Only hierophants and guardians have seen it, for as long as anyone remembers. We’re at the heart of the Forbidden Lands.” He wiped his forehead on a sleeve, streaking dirt in the sweat. “The guardians take care of orchards and gardens each year during the pilgrimage, but mostly it’s wild.”

  Skorri reached the crest and whooped. “Water! Last one in has to groom the horses!” A moment later he was racing down the slope toward the verdant forest.

  Thane gave chase, galloping through pines and orchards, intoxicated by the fragrant air. He reached the lake at the same time as Skorri. They jumped from their saddles and peeled off their shirts while running to the water’s edge. Excited shouts from behind spurred them on. They paused briefly on the soft pine needles lining the beach to pull off boots and pants, then raced into the lake.

  Thane dived, long and shallow, as soon as he was thigh deep. The lake’s waters were clear as a sheet of ice and nearly as cold. He came up gasping, his skin tingling.

  Dannel’s laughter carried easily across the water. “I tried to warn you,” he said. He pointed to the waterfalls cascading down the barrier wall. “The water comes from under the ground. It’s a stranger to the sun.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Thane called back as he treaded water. “Diving in is still the best—” He yelped as Skorri came up from beneath and grabbed his legs. He went under, sputtering bubbles as a frisky hand groped him beneath the water.

  Though Skorri had the advantage of surprise and was slippery as an eel, Thane managed to get a hold on him before running out of air. He kicked to the surface with the squirming assailant squeezed against his chest. His muscular body was shockingly warm compared to the frigid water. They both took deep breaths when they broke the surface; then Skorri twisted around and licked the tip of Thane’s nose.

  “Let me go, Thane. I want to help Erik wash.”

  Laughing, Thane released him and watched as he swam off to attack his partner.

  Ander and Dannel had reached the lake last and were wading into the water side by side. It was hard to say which of them was the more beguiling.

  Despite his stubborn refusal to attempt intimacy, Dannel wasn’t shy about his body and had no reason for modesty. His lean build served to emphasize broad shoulders and a pendulous cock, and his innocent features would have inspired any artist. Ander’s kindness toward him during the journey had produced a gratitude that was almost painful to behold. It was plain he had been starved in spirit, even while his body was being honed to deadly perfection.

  Thane reached shallow water and waded to where Ander and Dannel were standing in thigh-deep water. Shouts and splashes from nearby marked an encounter combining equal parts wrestling, bathing, and foreplay.

  Ander nodded toward the rowdy pair. “Doesn’t look like the water has cooled Skorri off any.”

  Thane snorted and looked at the playful lovers a few yards away. They were totally immersed in the excitement of the moment, enjoying the water and each other’s strenuous grappling with wild abandon. Both were hard, their erections waving as they laughed and tumbled in shallow water.

  Thane glanced at Dannel, who had turned to look at Skorri and Erik as well. He seemed transfixed. A blush was spreading across his face and chest, and his lips were parted as if he had frozen midspeech. His engorged cock speared up like a smooth horn of pale ivory. It was as long as Thane’s and nearly as thick but looked even larger on Dannel’s slim frame. Ander was watching their new companion with wide eyes, obviously impressed.

  “Lively, aren’t they?” Thane said.

  Dannel jumped and turned away from the frolicking pair. He put a hand over his genitals but couldn’t completely cover the erection. He looked terrified.

  “There’s nothing you need to hide,” Thane said. “You know us better than that.”

  Dannel turned aside, shielding himself with both hands. “Stay away,” he said, his voice anguished. “I can’t help it, leave me alone!”

  Ander moved closer and held his hands out, palms up, in a placating gesture. “Let us help, Dannel. You can trust us. We only want—”

  “Got you!” Skorri whooped as he grabbed Ander around the waist in a wet bear hug. Ander staggered, arms flailing, as Skorri tried to topple him. In two short steps, he stumbled into Dannel. His outstretched hand brushed the startled guardian’s hip.

  Dannel jumped back and shouted, a cry half ecstasy and half despair. His cock fountained, splattering Ander and Skorri with hot come. He tried to cover his cock again, his body swaying as his knees started to buckle, but couldn’t conceal the copious ejaculation. Semen squeezed out between his fingers and smeared his flat belly.

  Vertigo swept Thane at the moment of Dannel’s sudden climax, as if he had jumped off a cliff and his stomach hadn’t caught up with his body. An intense surge of desire left him achingly hard.

  Dannel groaned, his slimy hands pressed over his genitals, and knelt in the cold water. Shimmering waves of distorting light seemed to radiate away from him like ripples when a stone drops into still water. Humiliation burned on his face.

  “What happened?” Ander asked. He was blinking, dazed, his cock thrusting up from his crotch.

  Dannel turned away. He looked like he wanted to sink beneath the water and never be seen again.

  Thane tried to clear the hot lust that still clouded his mind. Amazement at what had transpired soon prevailed over his body’s demands. He knelt in the water even though Dannel cringed at his presence.

  “Are you all right?” Thane asked. “All I could sense was pleasure. Was it different for you?”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “No.” Thane’s voice was firm. “You’ve got to tell me what happened. Magic was involved. Strong magic. Is this why you can’t make love?”

  Dannel met Thane’s gaze. His eyes brimmed with tears. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” he said, his voice anguished. “We feel desire as much as anyone. But nobody can touch us when the need burns hot. If they do….” His voice caught, and he looked down again, his face blazing.

  “Everyone in Skarn knows about this, don’t they?” Thane asked softly. “
Is that why you wanted to talk with travelers?”

  “They think it’s a joke,” Dannel said bitterly. “Everyone laughs, taunts us. They don’t care how it makes us feel.”

  “But being touched only makes you come if you’re hard? Does touching you anywhere make it happen?”

  Dannel shook his head, sullen eyes downcast. “Only between the waist and knees. Skin has to touch skin. The hierophants curse us enough to steal love, no more.”

  Thane put an arm around Dannel’s shoulders. He shivered, looking surprised and panicked, but Thane held him tight. “It’s all right. What was done to you isn’t your fault. Let us try to help.” He still trembled, but Thane felt the tension start to leave his body.

  “Do you really think you can?”

  “I don’t know yet. There are secrets to learn, but we’re in the right place to find them.”

  Skorri approached, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was an accident. I didn’t know—”

  “I didn’t want you to know,” Dannel said. He stood and touched Skorri’s hand. “You didn’t laugh. Thank you.”

  Skorri beamed, his sunny disposition quickly returning. “Your seed hit me from seven feet away! I haven’t seen anybody come that hard since Erik and Ander—”

  Erik came up behind his partner and tousled his hair. “Save the stories,” the hunter suggested. “He has enough on his mind right now.”

  “We all do,” Thane said. “This place has power. You can almost touch the kei even without using the art. It’s time to find out why.”

  THE Valley of the Gate carved a broad crescent through the landscape. The crescent’s outer edge, separating the valley from desert, was a daunting crown of sawtooth peaks. The inside curve was smooth rock like the soaring wall of a fortified city. It loomed over them as they rode out of the forest and entered a broad stone courtyard at the cliff’s base. Wilderness yielded unexpectedly to imperial majesty.

  The Aerehoth Gate was huge. Two columns like obelisks were carved from living rock, twin pylons rising at least eighty feet above the courtyard. Two crosspieces shaped like flattened pyramids, the lower of the two inverted like a reflection, connected them at the top.

  Clear water poured from holes at the base of each column and flowed away in channels that fanned out like the sun’s rays. Two hundred feet of rock on each side of the Gate had been chiseled smooth and then carved with densely packed symbols. Stylized birds, plants, people, snakes, and a myriad of other pictures were mingled with curlicues, geometric shapes, and elongated faces of indeterminate sex. A huge passage lined with basalt blocks, filling the space framed by the Gate, led straight into the cliff.

  Cool wind blew from the cavernous opening as they approached. Thane felt a deep rumble, too low to be heard as a sound. His horse whinnied, and he patted its neck to calm it. He shared the animal’s sentiment; the sense of implacable power emanating from the portal was fearsome. They came to a halt twenty feet from the yawning opening.

  “I’ve never been inside,” Dannel said. Resentment colored his voice. “The hierophants spend most of their time in there during the pilgrimage, but we’re forbidden to enter. They say we’re not strong enough to face what lies beyond.”

  Thane looked at the Aerehoth Gate thoughtfully, craning his neck to peer into shadowed vaults high overhead. “How do you know it’s dangerous if you’ve never gone in?”

  Dannel reddened. “They warned us often enough. And even some of the hierophants die when they go inside. At least, some who enter never come out. We’re never told what happened to them.”

  Thane extended a hand as if grasping for a message hidden in the cool breeze. He frowned, concentrating, then shook his head. “If there’s a cantrip here, I can’t sense it. Power and strangeness, yes. But not a trap. I’ll try going in.”

  “Wait!” Ander said. “Let me go first.”

  “Or one of us,” Erik said. “There’s no reason—”

  Thane raised a hand. “If there’s a cantrip inside, I’m more likely to sense it than any of you. Trust me.” He nudged his horse forward, approaching the rectangle of darkness with more trepidation than he allowed his friends to see. Dannel looked sick with worry but didn’t try to stop him.

  Crossing from sunlight into the shadowed passage was like stepping into the chill of early winter. Damp air smelled like a storm was brewing. The sense of hidden power blossomed, making his hackles rise. Nothing happened, so he waved for his friends to follow. The clatter of horses’ hooves on the stone floor echoed in the darkness.

  “It’s like a cave,” Ander said. “I don’t like caves.”

  “It only seems that way because of the darkness,” Thane replied. He halted his horse and felt again for tremors in the kei. If there was a trap waiting to spring, it was undetectable. “I think we can risk a telos light,” he said.

  He twisted around in his saddle to face Ander. “Want to help?” Ander was almost lost in the darkness, but he felt a surge of gratitude through their bond. His partner yearned to feel needed, and Thane welcomed any chance to bolster his confidence.

  They leaned toward each other and clasped hands. A tingling sensation flowed between them as Ander concentrated on sharing his anima. Thane accepted the energy and let it flow through his body. Ander’s essence, fresh and permeated with lusty eagerness, lifted his spirits.

  Releasing Ander and raising his right hand overhead, Thane let the energy flow through his arm and coalesce inside his clenched fist as his mind wove the spell to hold it. In a matter of seconds, golden light seeped through his fingers. He opened his hand to reveal a radiant globe the size of a walnut floating in midair. Green streaks pulsed through the golden orb in time with his heartbeat. Its light revealed intricate geometrical mosaics covering the floor, partially concealed by dust. He started forward again, the telos light trailing along overhead as if connected to him by an invisible tether.

  The corridor maintained its original dimensions as they went deeper, as high and wide as the Aerehoth Gate. Soon the telos light revealed the same mysterious glyphs as were displayed outside. The carvings inside the gallery were smaller than those outside and vividly colored. The ancient symbols extended as far as they could see as the gallery penetrated deeper through solid rock.

  Thane felt like they were riding through a vast painting. He turned to Dannel. “Do you know what any of this means? It looks like writing, but I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Dannel looked away from the telos light, which he had been watching with open fascination. “It’s true. I knew you were a mage, I believed it, but seeing it with my own eyes is different somehow.”

  “The writing,” Thane prodded. “Can you read it?”

  Dannel shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen it before. The hierophants’ library at the temple has thousands of scrolls and parchments. We’re forbidden to touch them. But sometimes they forget and leave something out where you can look at it. Anybody can see what some of the pictures are, but I don’t know what they mean.”

  “Another puzzle to solve,” Thane said as he urged his horse forward. Soon the floor began descending at a gentle slope. The low thrum grew louder, filling their ears and vibrating in their bones. Though there was still no sign of danger, Thane’s heart raced and a sense of pressure filled his head.

  Ander moved up to ride beside him. “Is it wise to move this fast?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “You feel it too, don’t you? We’re near something.”

  Ander shivered, sending a tremor of apprehension through their bond. “I’m new to the art, but I know there are strange things in the kei. I’ve never felt such power. I feel like an ant surrounded by elephants.”

  “At least the elephants aren’t looking for us. Perhaps we’re beneath the notice of whatever dwells here.”

  “Something ahead,” Erik warned. He had the keenest eyes of all the initiates and always kept a careful lookout.

  Thane peered down the lofty gallery, straining to
see beyond the pool of light shed by the telos sphere. At first he saw only blackness. Then, faintly, a deep red glow emerged from the darkness. It pulsed slowly, seeming to resonate with the deep rumble that filled the stone realm.

  His throat dry, Thane reached up and snatched the telos light out of the air. It vanished when his fingers closed around it. The corridor plunged into darkness.

  The distant red glow grew more distinct, and in moments Thane saw what Erik had spotted. The glyphs covering the walls were glowing as well. A rainbow of faint colors and twisting shapes seemed to swim around him. A sense of order and purpose permeated the ethereal writing, but it was alien and disorienting.

  Thane moved ahead, using the red pulsations as a guide. He rode slowly, as if in a dream. The enigmatic symbols almost seemed to make sense; he felt for a pattern and strained to hear the concealed message. Time blurred and stretched. While his mind still danced with the illuminated symbols soaring around them, they reached an arch separating the gallery from a vast circular chamber.

  Heat rippled across them, like passing through a sheet of water, as they left the corridor and entered the next room. The thrum of power became a physical presence, a pressure against the skin like wind. The source stood before them.

  The chamber they had entered was round, with a high ceiling shaped like a shallow inverted bowl. In the center, a hundred feet distant, a stone cube thirty feet high rested atop a dais. Its surface was inlaid with glyphs formed from precious metals, and it was encrusted with sparkling jewels that gleamed from within. A circular opening filled the side of the cube facing the door, and the opening seemed bottomless. It held a black void broken only by a vibrant red spot throbbing like the heart of some unearthly beast.

  Thane dismounted and faintly heard the others do the same. He couldn’t look away from the opening in the stone block; it drew him like a lodestone drew a compass. Walking forward as if in a trance, he felt himself become more attuned to the force emanating from the object. Voices filled his mind, songs and chants in a tongue that seemed hauntingly familiar. He moved closer.