by Aaron Crash
The Princept felt the pull to kiss Beryl, and she knew the mermaid felt it too. Della didn’t give in to the temptation. She returned to business. “The Weeping Sea merfolk can’t expect to charge merchants to use the ocean. Your people will have to relent.”
“Or we make other trade deals,” Beryl said quietly. “That is my hope. We first make peace with King Velis IX, and then we can open negotiations with the Undergem Guild, who can represent not just the Sorrow Coast Kingdom, but all of Thera. There are merfolk families in the Scatter Islands and in the Green Sea, far to the east, who could benefit. We have pearls and gemstones and Knowing Lore of our own. This is my hope. Marrib has...different ideas. He thinks we can intimidate King Velis IX into a deal.”
Della realized they were still holding hands. She’d gotten so swept up in this woman, her strange perfume, and their discussion of current events, that she’d forgotten herself. Or maybe this was normal for the mermaids. Either way, she had to be very careful. Just last year she’d been trapped in a love spell.
The Princept gave Beryl’s hand a final squeeze, and then let go. “King Velis won’t be intimidated.”
“Then it might be a good thing I’m here,” Beryl said. Those green eyes never left Della’s.
The Princept smiled. “It is a good thing you are here, I think. A very good thing. The food is good. But will you miss the water?”
“I’ll always miss the water.” The mermaid’s eyes crinkled with her smile. “But the land has definite treasures all its own.”
Della felt the illicit thrill go through her. Here again was a moral dilemma presenting itself to her. Beryl Delphino had come to check on her daughter, but she’d also come as a delegate for her people. In either case sleeping with her would be a terrible idea.
Della would make sure there was no love magic interfering with her logic. She would protect herself. She wouldn’t give in to her temptations. However, after the summit? If Beryl stayed, there would be no reason for them not to explore their smiles, their touches, and their gazes.
That night, Della lay in her bed in the Princept’s Chamber. She’d drunk wine with Beryl, they’d talked more, and the wine had loosened their tongues a bit. Neither the Princept nor the Former Ocean Mother had said anything outrageous, but Della had let it slip she liked the touch of a woman. And Beryl agreed, saying that as a widow, she’d found comfort in the bodies of her surviving sister-wives. They missed their Borisib deeply, but the lovemaking offered them some solace.
Della imagined watching the stately woman being serviced by other pastel-haired mermaids, so many mouths, tongues, fingers, and sexes. So much passion and love and lust, all fueled by loss and pain. The Princept knew how loss could make sex more intense—she’d known death and tragedy in her time.
It wasn’t long before Della was rubbing herself, imagining a wet Beryl Delphino, having just orgasmed with her sister-wives, coming to Della. The mermaid would be on all fours above her, that long green hair sweeping down and that unique fragrance eclipsing all other smells. Beryl would kiss her lips, then kiss down her body, kiss her breasts, her belly, until the mermaid queen parted her legs to taste Della.
Beryl’s own sex would be above her—it would be hairless, and it would have its own taste and fragrance. What else would be different?
The Princept didn’t know. Just the idea of Congress of the Crow with the mermaid queen made her come. Her legs stiffened, thrust out, and her little oheesy pulsed fresh juice down her ass. Della rode the orgasm until the spasms faded, and then she smiled.
After the summit meeting, she’d have a new lover. Hopefully, if the Tree of Life were kind, it wouldn’t end in bloodshed. Hopefully, it would end in peace, love, and friendship. And maybe, just maybe, the dawn of a new age—the Age of Reunion.
Chapter Ten
TORIAH WELLDEEP STOOD at the counter in the feasting hall. Weeks ago, she’d heard about the summit, and here it was.
The wide little woman watched both contingents of the summit come into the feasting hall to eat a Tuesday night dinner. Big men from both sides had spent the afternoon touring the kitchen, making sure no one was trying to poison anyone. Actually, Tori had been the face of the kitchen because Francy Ballspferd was far too grumpy.
Tori didn’t much mind the dry overtoppers. The Sorrow Coast knights were big, and armored, and they had swords, spears, and axes, but they were at least human looking. Besides, she was getting used to the way humans smelled after spending so much time with Ymir and Jennybelle.
The merfolk? They were downright strange.
The women were pretty, granted, and most weren’t as difficult as Ribrib. The men? They were walking nightmares. They had legs, since the merfolk could shift their bottom halves, but they didn’t wear pants, just leather-and-kelp loincloths. They walked barefoot. They had a strange barb sticking out of the backs of their heels, and their toenails were hard yellow chitin. Their big webbed hands also had thick, long, cruel fingernails—very upsetting.
Their faces were worse. Their eyes were buggy and spaced too far apart. Huge dark green or dark blue beards fell from scaly faces. Instead of hair, they had three bony ridges, almost like fins, going across their scalps. Instead of noses, they had two rubbery slits. Instead of ears, they had anemone with pale worm-like tendrils growing and shrinking and reaching.
The mermen knights armored their top halves, and they had axes, which made Tori think of Ymir.
Tori made sure she was polite to everyone, both the humans and the merfolk, male and female. She didn’t get to meet either of the important men, neither King Velis IX nor Marrib Delphino. She saw them, though, and watched their testers eat. Tori was a bit insulted. No one was going to poison their food, not on her watch.
King Velis had a long moustache and tired eyes. He looked weary from his trip, but he also looked annoyed that he’d had to make it in the first place. It was clear he thought the merfolk were being unreasonable—they didn’t own the sea. Velis had long dark hair, going gray, and the ridiculously long moustache equally peppered.
As for Marrib, he was big chested, big armed, and big bearded. Tori had to check herself because that huge midnight-blue beard was positively dwarvish. She’d have to get Ymir to grow facial air. That might give her the Inconvenience all the time. Yes, that might be fun, but it would also be exhausting, and how would she get any work done? It was why she’d never tried their Amora Xoca.
Marrib wasn’t just the Ocean Father Divine, he was also a warrior. His ax didn’t look ornamental, not a bit. How he sat with it, the way he fiddled with it, you could tell he wouldn’t want to be without his ax even for a second.
The group sat at two separate tables, then left for the Imperial Palace and the Reception Room there.
Francy let Tori go early since the dwab had been working all day.
That was perfect. Tori hurried into the Librarium Citadel to meet up with her new friend Gatha. The she-orc was just coming out of the gate in the southeast wall, which led down to the Scrollery. She carried a big stack of books. Tori knew where she was taking them.
Perfect. Tori had waited weeks for an opportunity to help the librarian. However, Tori’s little scheme came with a high price tag. She’d have to tell Gatha why she’d been crying that night when they first became friends.
The redhead sidled up to the she-orc. “Gosh me underground, Gatha, can I help? You’ve got a pile of books there.”
Most were smaller volumes, bound in paper and put together with cheap glue. Gatha stopped to give Tori half the pile. Without a word, the she-orc walked out of the Librarium, giving the sky a rueful glance. So far there were clouds, but no rain. It was mid-November and every day was a gamble. “We must hurry. This damn place loves its rains. In the Blood Steppes, we go entire seasons without a drop. Any Gruul girl worth her salt has to learn to break open cacti to get moisture.”
“And it’s far drier underground,” Tori agreed. “Why, I had friends who’d get so thirsty they could hear streams th
rough the rock. So we’re not so different.”
Gatha grunted ambivalently. Was that a grunt of agreement? Or was it a choked laughter of derision? Tori made up her mind not to worry about it.
The two walked down the steps past the Unicorn’s Uht, which was a shocking name for a place like that. They kept on going and made a right at The Paradise Tree. Then they walked a twisty, turny alleyway that got narrower as they went. It ended at a door.
Gatha put her books under one arm, got a key out, and slipped it into the lock. She pushed open the portal. Inside were shelves, mostly empty, but some were full of books and scrolls. Near the back, though, there was an open space. And there was a whole second floor that wasn’t being used. It was a dusty place, full of wooden crates and some old broken furniture, but Tori could see them turning it into a kitchen. There was a big fireplace with a cookstove next to it. They might have to buy another rig, some pots, and pans, but then they’d be free to cook whenever they wanted. She’d also moved past the design stage for her machines and started the build. Her bedroom in the Zoo was kind of a mess because of her Knowing Lore work.
She had plans to turn the entire second floor into a factory to process xoca beans. Then they could sell them to The Paradise Tree. Ziziva didn’t make her candy at her shop—that was the storefront. She worked with local people in StormCry. Well, supposedly Nan Honeysweet did, but that piece of Knowing Lore didn’t have the gears for that. Tori couldn’t wait to get her hands on the automaton.
Tori hadn’t broached the subject of the second floor yet with Gatha. She did know about the book annex, but not why Gatha was bringing books there. Tori was reticent to ask because she knew Gatha was still wanting to know about those tears that one night.
The dwab took hold of her courage and started the conversation. “So, Gatha, my gal, how about I tell you about my tears, and you tell me about this bookshop. You’re opening a bookshop, right? You’re going to be selling...” Tori flipped over a cover, which had a hasty sketch of a naked woman on the front. She read the title. “Nymphs at their Frolic by Chalare Ximn.” She couldn’t help but be disgusted for a minute.
Gatha saw it. “Don’t let the title nor the author’s name fool you. That is actually one of the pen names of Stopher Lowemar, who was one of Willmur Swordwrite’s contemporaries. Lowemar wrote Of Sky and Sorrow.”
Tori felt embarrassed. Remembering authors and titles wasn’t easy for her. She’d much rather memorize design schematics. “Sure, Gatha, no offense. I’m not much for fiction, or those sexy books you like. But is this going to be a bookstore?”
“No.” Gatha started shelving the books they brought. “My pit master, Maezelith Bealheam, has said we have run out of room in the Librarium. She said I could start a special collection here, and she is not too happy about this annex.”
“Pit master?” Tori asked.
“Not pit master. Maezel is the head librarian.” Gatha chuckled. “I misspoke. In the fighting pits of Ssunash, there was a pit master I served. That was a long time ago, but it was critical to my life. So, no, this won’t be a bookstore. This will be part of the library.”
Tori handed books to the she-orc, one after another.
Gatha had a special place for each volume. “Maezel doesn’t agree that this trash—that’s what she calls it, anyway—belongs in the Librarium. She never has. She says Old Ironbound should only house exceptional literature that will survive a thousand years. I say Knowing Lore has helped us broaden what we should consider exceptional literature. These books were printed cheaply in Four Roads. This will revolutionize the way authors write and readers read. And this school will have copies set aside for generations to come.”
The Gruul girl turned to face Tori. “I was able to convince the owner of the property to donate this building, or at least the first floor, to the school. She agreed on a temporary basis, though I believe she’ll want rent eventually. We are still in discussions. There is a basement below, as well as the second floor above. I have considered perhaps turning this building into a small, quiet tavern, or a kaif shop, to pay for the space.”
An owner of the building might make things more complicated, but before Tori could ask, Gatha had those rose-colored eyes on her. “Now, you will tell me of those tears you shed.”
Tori inhaled and let out the breath. “It’s just a silly Morbuskor thing. You’ll think less of me, but we had a deal. And here we are. Bless my stone bits, I can’t believe I keep telling outsiders my story. Not that the secrets we keep are all about me.”
Gatha stood above her with her arms crossed.
The dwab felt like she was in trouble. “Fine, fine. It’s just...so...I’m ugly for a dwab. I don’t have a beard, and my body is big where it should be little, and little where it should be big. Like my waist, for instance—it pinches in when it should bulge out.”
The she-orc nodded. “I understand this. I had a friend with a withered leg, too small to allow her to fight. In some cases, the father will take such a child and dash its head on the ground. But my friend, Migdish, came from more caring parents. Happy parents.” Gatha got a faraway look in her eye. “She was like you, Tori. She was cheerful when others might have been sad.”
“Oh, I get sad,” Tori said with a little chuckle. She inhaled again. The place smelled like books, dusty and loved. The sea was close enough to perfume the place as well. They’d have to be careful to get some Flow magic in here, both to protect the library and also to stop the dampness from turning to mold.
Tori leaned up against a wooden shelf. Gatha loomed overhead. “I get sad, but I try to keep a good attitude. I’m a princess, a thane’s daughter, and I don’t have looks, but I have money.”
The she-orc’s laugh was as sharp as a dagger. “You are pretty, Toriah Welldeep. Maybe not to your own people, but to others you are. To think otherwise is stupid. I watched you and Ymir flirt for months last year. And you have him, don’t you? You can have him whenever you want.”
Was that a wistful smile on Gatha’s face?
The little woman was halfway done with this bad talk. She steeled herself to finish it. “That night you caught me crying? It was because I wanted him for myself. Us Morbuskor don’t share usually. We like our monogamy just fine. I can’t have that. I’ll never have that.” She wasn’t going to cry again. She shrugged and put a smile on her face. “But it’s nice. I have this thing—a secret dwab thing—and not something I should talk about. Ymir, his ladies, and I have an understanding. It’s fine. It’s good, even. So, that’s the mystery. It’s about love.” Her voice broke on that last word. Dumb voice, betraying her.
Gatha knelt down. She took Tori’s wrist in her big fingers. They were softer than Tori would’ve figured. The dwab had rough hands from all the work. At least there was something dwarvishly harsh about her.
The she-orc gazed into her eyes. “You are my sister in this. You understand how it is with me and that man. I saw him with the Sullied elf...I saw them together, their passion and fire. The animal in me, my rahgaht, came alive, and I watched them fuck. I made myself come. It was fine. Then? It all changed for me.” The Gruul shook her head. Her white hair swayed with the motion.
“Then you saw you couldn’t have him to yourself,” Tori said softly.
Gatha closed her eyes. Tori took a moment to study this big green-skinned woman, so alien and savage. Her jaw was so thick, and yet her face had a symmetry to it, a beauty that couldn’t be denied. Tori wondered at that—how could she think this woman was beautiful when she didn’t have a big bulbous nose, large ears, or a beard?
It was her strength and her sadness, together in this powerful woman, both seeking to own the she-orc’s heart. That was what made her beautiful. Gatha was this great contradiction—one of the best warriors at the school, but she preferred books to the battlefield. After all, the she-orc had chosen to come to Old Ironbound to work in the Librarium.
In her alchemy class, Tori had heard Kacky and Gluck talking, and those she-orcs had def
inite opinions about Gatha—none of them were very kind. They called her fucking igptoor. The dwab wasn’t sure what that was or why those other Gruul girls hated Gatha.
The she-orc librarian spoke softly. “Yes, part of me wanted Ymir for myself. Another part didn’t care about his harem. I grew up seeing the love and care there can be in a ptoor. That is what we call families where there is one man and many women. My friend Migdish was beloved by her ptoor. Me? I chose to be igptoor...a woman without a family. There is a reason for that. My own family hated me. My own mother hated me.”
Before she knew it, Tori found the she-orc in her arms. Gatha had her face pressed against the dwab’s breasts. Not knowing what to do, Tori stroked Gatha’s white hair, so soft and fine. Again, she was struck by how sensitive and soft the woman felt in her arms.
For a second, Tori expected Gatha to cry. She didn’t. She took in a big shuddery breath, though. She stood, frowning. “You are not ugly. And you have the love of Ymir and his princesses. You should be happy. I should be happy because I have achieved every goal I’ve ever set for myself. I have what I want. I should desire nothing more.”
Tori took one of those big, soft green hands in her own. “A miner needs a team, Gatha. You send some poor dwarf alone down a shaft, there’s a good chance he won’t come back alive. With a team? You can check your seams and your stacks. They have your back. No one has your back here.”
The she-orc turned away. Her rough voice grew rougher. “You speak of friends and family. Those fuckers broke my heart once. I will never, ever let that happen again. I’d rather die.”
Tori felt the tears come, and emotion choked her throat. She thought it was the saddest thing she’d ever heard. As deformed as the dwab was, her parents loved her, even if they had to suggest she leave the Ruby Stonehold. And even if her family had been cruel, Tori grew up with friends around, though most of the time it was out of pity. Gosh, even at Old Ironbound, Tori had befriended Ribrib, and no one much liked her. The other mermaids merely tolerated her because she was royalty.