Her desperation turned into helpless screams as the lights coalesced within her chest cavity, moving in a lazy figure eight and filling her with agony. Soft hands held her wrists down against satin pillows, preventing her from clawing at her flesh. Still, the starlight found her, seeping into her like sand into the bottom of an hourglass until full, Bym screamed her agony at the blanket of stars above, and the atrium’s roof cracked and splintered.
The priestesses dragged Bym away as shards of clear stone rained down from above like billions of falling stars. They plummeted to the stone floor with dull thuds, leaving their marks like tiny meteors where they fell. As the final bits and pieces of rough stone settled, an icy wind rushed in to play with the dust.
The thundering roar as the ceiling had fallen had brought in its wake the sounds of rushing feet. He stood perplexed for a mere breath before taking charge. Unlike the others, he hadn’t fled at Yeva’s command.
Drem, his black robes billowing, lifted his hands and spoke words of power. He vibrated with it as it coursed through him with renewed strength. Moments before, his power had been but a trickle, collected and saved until needed. Each generation of Umbra sorcerers had controlled less and less as the Solis grew stronger, but finally the Goddess had embraced the Umbra, and her embrace had rebirthed their magic. Throwing his hands out, Drem drew all of the power into himself that he could hold until he burned with it. Then, with the force of his will, he made the shards rise, fuse, and reform until the atrium was as it had been. He stood shaking with what his new magic had allowed him to accomplish and felt Yeva’s eyes on him. His years of study had not been wasted, nor had the generations of knowledge been in vain that had been passed on before. The Goddess had returned the Umbra’s magic.
Closing his eyes, he felt its resurgence in his brethren. It was like the world took a breath and lived once more, but it was no longer the Solis’ world. Long ago, the Umbra had been cast out, feared and despised, reviled as half demonic spawn, bred of the deepest reaches of the mountains. The lies had been fed to the goddesses over the centuries. Now, through her own observations, she had seen the Umbra for what they were and the Solis barbarians for what they were.
Drem knelt on the once pristine floor, now marked and scarred by the thick shards which had fallen. The marred surface was a field of stars beneath them, but out of reach, pulled to safety by her priestesses, was their Goddess, a woman who he himself had questioned and believed to have been a boy. Fate had forgiven him for his ignorance and given him a second chance to serve her, and now with magic flowing back into their world, he would be able to protect her.
Yeva’s hands shook where they touched Bym. “It wasn’t controlled and measured. It was violent and wild.”
Drem didn’t respond, waiting instead for her to continue. Her observation was needless. They’d all felt the avalanche of unbridled power as it had poured into their world.
“When it happens next, will it bring down the ceiling or the entire fortress?” Her fear was clear to all of them since they too felt it.
Drem said, “Teach her to control her emotions. Teach her to meditate and find peace.”
Aya, one of the priestesses, gazed up at him in absolute befuddlement.
However, Vitaliana hissed a response. “Meditation? Meditation? Do you hear yourself, or are you drunk with the power which now flows through all of us? Were you not here, spying from the shadows? Did you not see?” Anger created sparks in the air around her head.
Fearing her sister priestess’ hair might catch fire, Aya said, “We were joined in meditation. Her thoughts and emotions are tumultuous. After what she has endured, the meditation suggested to us in the ancient texts might not be… appropriate.”
“Then, find what will be beneficial to her,” Drem snapped.
Perri’s hand shot out and slapped him hard across the face. “You will not raise your voice in our presence. Go. Now.”
Knowing any words of apology to be futile, he prostrated himself with his forehead to the stone floor before rising and leaving. He’d only ever angered Perri to such an extent at one other time in his life. He’d been a small boy at the time, full of his own importance and determined to prove himself. He and three other acolytes had ventured into the forbidden tunnels to defeat the goblins and earn their places amongst the Umbra warriors. Only two of them had come back. Now, Perri had the same fear in her eyes, fear of losing him to his own pride and the warring factions which would soon bombard their stronghold.
He pressed his back to the stairwell and closed his eyes, feeling the amplified hum of power coursing through him. His mother had been right to slap sense into him then, and she was right to do it now. His Goddess didn’t need a brash and cocky power-drunk sorcerer to battle her goblins. She needed him to be calculating, decisive, and intuitive. This wasn’t some boyish adventure. It was the fate of the Umbra and their world.
As the Umbra priestesses and priests of the Temporal Locum felt magic’s resurgence and prostrated themselves throughout their mountain fortresses, so too did the goblins sense the world’s awakening power. The starshine found them in their remote crags and crevices where long ago they had made their homes, and the goblins howled with rage.
Chapter Ten
Her breath came in desperate gasps as if she ran a race in which her legs refused to move. Her own screams of frustration woke her.
“Bym, Bym, it’s alright. You’re safe. Hush, now. That’s right,” Perri comforted while helping her to sit up against the plush bed pillows.
“Here. You look as though you could use a cool drink,” Vitaliana said.
Bym took the cup from her and sniffed its contents.
Vitaliana raised an auburn eyebrow at her, the only thing which hinted at her coloring. She and the other priestesses of the Temporal Locum had slicked their hair back into tight buns and covered their heads with scarves.
Bringing the cup to her lips, she drank. The cool fruit juice eased her raw throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She heard a male clearing his throat and noticed Guto. Nervously, but with fearful conviction, he said, “The priestesses of the Goddess are not servants. I am. Should she need anything, I am the one who is honored to provide it.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Vitaliana threw her hands up in the air. “She just woke up after hours of fitful sleep, and you want to argue over which of us provides her with a cup of drink? Are you the ass she rode in on?”
Bym covered her eyes and chuckled. Then, she edged her aching body out of bed.
“Please, allow me! I’ll get you whatever it is you’d like,” Guto vowed.
“I’d like to visit the lavatory.”
Vitaliana stared pointedly at Guto with her lips puckered and made a grandiose gesture for him to take over.
Guto’s transformation into a beet began at his ears and worked its way toward his nose from his throat. “Uh…. This way.” Beneath the hem of his black robes, she could see his boots. They made no sound when he walked. He gestured toward a room, bowed his head, and moved to stand near the wall.
“Nice,” Bym said in appreciation.
The toilet was of a similar design to the one which had been in the cell she’d previously occupied. However, this one was in an enclosed private corner. The other side of the bathroom contained a large sunken tub which appeared to be heated by coals. Soon, her gown laid over a padded bench, and she dipped her toes into warm water upon whose surface lavender blooms floated. Sinking beneath the surface, she dipped her head back to wet her hair before recalling that she had none.
“I have no hair,” she whined.
“Please, forgive me. I had no idea you were a woman,” Guto sorrowfully apologized.
“Great. I looked like a man even with short hair.” Her sardonic tone wasn’t wasted on him.
Frustrated, he asked, “Wasn’t that your plan? How is it fair of you to be angry with me for being tricked?” He strode into the room, hands fisted but hidde
n in his robes, and glared down at her with his kohl-lined eyes.
“You’re right. I’m really good at disguises and costumery.”
Somewhat mollified, the heat in his eyes dissipated. Bym closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. He said, “If you have a headache, I can call Iago for you.”
With a deep sigh, she admitted, “No, I just need a few strong cups of coffee to wake up.”
“We don’t have coffee, but I can make you some strong tea.”
Sitting up, she stared at Guto with desperate hope. “Strong black tea? Really? You have no idea how badly I need it, and how much I want it.”
All thoughts had fled his mind. He stood transfixed, staring at Bym’s wet chest, rounded breasts, and pert, pink nipples. His mouth went dry. Noticing his behavior, Bym checked to see if her tits had disappeared or if she’d grown a third. Seeing a sprig of lavender stuck to her arm, she plucked it off and dropped it in the water. Then, she noticed the front of Guto’s robes. The impressive appendage she’d seen in the men’s pool had taken notice of her.
“Guto?”
“Uh?”
She covered her chest with her arms, and the man looked as if he might cry. “My tea?”
“Oh!” Turning a darker shade of beet, he turned, stumbled, and practically ran.
As soon as his back was turned, a genuine smile graced her lips. Her beautiful hair was gone, sacrificed for her survival, but she still had attractive assets. When the Umbra warrior parading as her servant reappeared, he placed a tray with a steaming cup of tea within her reach. She took a grateful sip, closed her eyes, and muttered, “Yes.”
“Is it to your liking?”
“Yes, I need this every morning.”
“It’s a drink for common warriors. Wouldn’t you prefer sweetened juice?”
“Maybe at lunch but not to wake up.” After finishing it, she smiled to herself at the prospect of torturing Guto, and slowly rose from the tub. Guto was transfixed by the beads of water sliding down her skin, and he made her feel more powerful than had the starshine. “May I have a towel?” He spread one at the tub’s base and offered her his hand. As she stepped out, he blanketed her with a second sheet and drew her body flush against his. His male member was stone between them. “Guto!”
“Shut up.” He stared down into her eyes, and his smoldered. “Just because I am your personal guard and servant doesn’t make me any less of a man. Display yourself like this to me again, and I’ll part those soft white thighs and show you how desirable I find you, hair or no hair.” He was trying to intimidate her into behaving properly, but it wasn’t working.
The juncture of her thighs warmed, and her womanly core melted. The turmoil, fear, uncertainty, and horrors she’d witnessed wheedled at her, and in that moment, she didn’t want to be strong, wielding a blade, fighting goblins, or navigating an unfamiliar and highly religious political climate. She wanted to be a woman being held by a man. “What if that’s what I want? What if I want you to hold me and make love to me?”
Gruffly, he asked, “What if you’re simply toying with my desire for you?”
Bym moved her arm to the back of his neck and stared up into his eyes. Then, she eased her lips closer to his, lifting up on her toes until they touched. Her soft kiss was met with a desperately powerful response. Guto took control with masterful seduction, delving between her lips with his tongue. She slid her free hand between them and into his robes, rubbing and squeezing his length. He clutched her ass, and just as she thought he might lower his pants and impale her on his glorious pike, he grunted, and his length jerked in her hand, spent.
Guto rested his face on her bald head. “Goddess, I never knew. So much better than I’d fantasized.”
So, that was it? They were done? Wasn’t he going to part her thighs or something?
He moved his hands to her outer arms gently rubbing them as he kissed her forehead. Suddenly, Bym realized that his earlier sexual bravado had been for show. He’d just had his first-ever intimate experience with her. What was she supposed to do to make him feel special? At an utter loss for words, she asked the question she truly wanted to know. “Will you hold me tonight while I sleep?”
“Yes, Bym. I’ll hold you for an eternity.”
The eight females who had taken control of her life couldn’t seem to decide between mothering her, instructing her, or worshipping her, and after several hours of it, Bym couldn’t take any more. She managed to keep all ungracious comments to herself, but her frustration manifested itself in other ways. Lightning cracked, and rain froze as it fell adding to the piles of snow surrounding the mountain. She stood clutching her fists and staring out of the windows of her lofty, opulent rooms.
“Let us again attempt to meditate. Accepting your powers is the only way for time, weather, and the seasons to balance,” Yeva gently reasoned.
The wall of windows shook as a result of Bym’s inner turmoil. Meditation wasn’t working. She was no closer to finding inner peace than she’d been the first five times they’d tried to meditate. “I need some time alone before I bring the roof down again.”
Yeva bowed her head, silently agreeing to give her some space.
Leaving the grand room, she made her way into the anteroom in which several Umbra warriors loitered. Aside from the four males who operated the archaic elevator, she recognized Drem, Captain Arwel, and Hopcyn. They eyed her like the last slice of pizza in the box.
“Where do you wish to go?” Guto asked from behind her.
Bym almost jumped out of her skin. He had been following her everywhere like a ninja puppy. “Away. I don’t know.”
Too agitated to be able to handle being lowered in the wooden box, she went to the stairs and placed a red slippered foot on the first step, beginning her descent. The red silk gown she wore trailed behind her. She caught herself counting steps, turning on a landing, and counting another set. Then, she arrived on the floor beneath hers. Four Umbra manned the lift here as well. Moving around the dividing wall, she expected to see a space similar to her own, but it was far more masculine. Weapons lined the nearest wall, bookcases lined the farthest, and a few males who looked vaguely familiar sat warming themselves around a brazier at the room’s center.
“Are you needing something, Goddess?” a slow, drawling voice asked.
Two hounds lifted their heads, whined, and thumped their tails against the stone flooring.
“Just to clear my thoughts. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She started backing out of the room.
“You aren’t intruding.” He beckoned her forward.
Slowly and with a rustling of fabric, she moved closer and took the seat which Guto held out for her. Bending, she held her hand out to be sniffed, but the dog turned pleading eyes to his master for permission. At his nod, Bym became the recipient of exuberant canine affection. Genuine laughter bubbled out of her while petting heads and scratching behind ears. “Is this one Sausage?”
“No, that’s Potatoes. This one is Sausage.”
Bym couldn’t tell the hounds apart. “You named them after dinner?”
Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “At least, they have names. I don’t call simply call them dogs like a certain someone in the room with a decided lack of creativity.”
“Okay. Yes. Donkey needs a better name. I guess with how uncertain everything was, I was afraid to give her one.”
The man leaned forward. He and the others weren’t wearing their masks. It made them far more approachable and less intimidating.
Hopcyn asked, “Are your rooms to your liking?”
“The rooms are beautiful.”
Grinning and with mischief in his eyes, Hopcyn said, “Not that I don’t welcome your company, but why are you down here with us rather than up there in the company of your priestesses?” He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling for emphasis.
Bym stood with a rustle of fabric and paced the room. She wandered over to a bookcase and looked at titles written in a language she didn’
t know. It startled her almost as much as the goblins first had. She could speak to and understand these people, perhaps by magical means or from the snake pendant which had seeped into her being, but she couldn’t read?
“Bym, what has caused you such an upset?” Guto asked.
“I’m so out of place here that I can’t even read,” she gestured forlornly at the shelved books.
“Ah, shit. Come here.” He seized her wrist in a gentle grasp and dragged her along with him into a bathroom with several stalls, one of which was occupied. He reached inside an uninhabited one and pulled out a sheaf of papers, much like a folded newspaper but tied with string in pamphlet form. He thrust it into her hand, and although the font was odd, she was able to read.
“Grain prices rise by four coppers due to fluctuating conditions,” she read. A brief article followed. Confused, she looked up at him and then made a face at a plop of sound which came from the occupied stall.
“Is that a female?” a horrified male asked.
“We’re leaving. You can shit in peace. Come on,” Guto said.
Holding her breath, Bym clutched his hand and jogged along with him from the communal bathroom. Once they were out of earshot, she burst into laughter.
Guto pointed at the books on the shelves. “You can’t read those because they’re ancient texts.” He rolled his eyes at her.
Hopcyn said, “If you want to learn, I can teach you.”
“You’re not the only one who can,” the hound master drawled.
“Of course, I’m not, but aren’t you busy, Gethim?” Hopcyn asked.
“Nope.”
Sensing his master’s mood, Sausage growled at Hopcyn.
“Would you care for a lesson now?” Hopcyn asked while ignoring Gethim and his hound.
“Thank you, but I’m sick of sitting still. I’m tired of trying to meditate. I wanted to go for a walk, explore the fortress or something, but everyone looks at me like I can fix everything.” She stabbed her finger at the notice in the paper. With their world’s time being out of sync, everything was being affected. A loud crack of thunder made the dogs whine.
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